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#signs of healthy teeth
capturelifedental · 2 months
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7 Signs you have Healthy Teeth
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A healthy smile is more than just a cosmetic concern - it's a key indicator of overall health and wellbeing. 
At Capture Life Dental Care, we believe that a healthy smile is a vital part of living a happy and fulfilling life. But how do you know if you have healthy teeth? 
In this blog, we'll explore the top 7 signs that indicate you have healthy teeth, from strong enamel to fresh breath.
1. Strong Enamel
Healthy teeth have strong, durable enamel that resists decay and sensitivity. If your teeth are resistant to temperature changes and sugary snacks, it's a good sign that your enamel is strong. You can test your enamel by trying a cold drink or a sweet treat - if you don't experience any discomfort or pain, your enamel is likely in good shape.
2. Pink, Healthy Gums
Pink, healthy gums are a key indicator of healthy teeth. If your gums are pink, firm, and don't bleed when you brush or floss, it's a good sign that you're taking good care of your teeth. Healthy gums are essential for supporting your teeth and preventing gum disease.
3. Fresh Breath
Fresh breath is a sign of healthy teeth and gums. If you don't experience bad breath or a sour taste in your mouth, it's likely that your teeth and gums are healthy. Fresh breath is also a sign of good oral hygiene habits, such as regular brushing and flossing.
4. No Sensitivity
If your teeth are sensitive to hot or cold temperatures, it could be a sign of underlying problems such as tooth decay or gum recession. But if you don't experience any sensitivity, it's a good sign that your teeth are healthy and strong.
5. No Pain or Discomfort
Healthy teeth don't hurt or ache. If you don't experience any pain or discomfort when eating, drinking, or biting, it's a good sign that your teeth are healthy. Pain or discomfort can be a sign of underlying problems such as tooth decay, cracks, or gum disease.
6. Shiny, Clean Teeth
Shiny, clean teeth are a sign of good oral hygiene habits. If your teeth are free of plaque, tartar, and stains, it's a good sign that you're taking good care of your teeth. Shiny teeth are also a sign of healthy enamel and a balanced diet.
7. Regular Check-Ups
Finally, regular check-ups with your dentist are a sign of healthy teeth. If you're visiting your dentist regularly and receiving clean bills of health, it's a good sign that you're taking proactive steps to maintain your oral health.
Conclusion
In conclusion, healthy teeth are a key indicator of overall health and wellbeing. By looking out for these 7 signs, you can ensure that your teeth are strong, healthy, and functioning properly. 
At Capture Life Dental Care, we're dedicated to helping you achieve a healthy, happy smile. 
Contact us today to schedule a consultation and take the first step towards a healthier, happier you!
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shentheauthor · 3 months
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I love starting something new and just KNOWING that the story is going to destroy me, even though I’m going in blind
So anyway I started in stars and time today—
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coldgoldlazarus · 7 months
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NGL, on a much more minor and personal note, it does bother me that they had to divert so many resources into making those RWBY x Justice League movies that could have gone into the main show, and then WB still gave them the boot anyway.
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outeremissary · 8 months
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Still thinking about the conversation Harper and I had a few days ago in which we put together the list of BG3 party members who could conceivably have fangs and it was almost all of them. Everyone except Gale and Minsc. Nearly every single one. It's so funny to me. I committed to the DUrge fangs with the thought that they would be a Fun Little Supernatural Indicator of something weird with Kas but no. They don't even stand out. It's hilarious. Gale going "hey Kas elves don't usually have fangs right" and Kas responding "but Astarion does...?" "Astarion is a vampire" "Halsin does?" just down the line of madness until the subject is given up on
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watermelinoe · 2 years
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hoping new kitty's terrible breath is from dental disease that's still treatable
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sanchoyo · 2 years
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my dog turned 14 the other day!!! 14 years old in human years... I've had him since he was a pubby and hes 14... woaw....🥺
#i thought abt it too hard and im choked up now KJHSDKF MY SPECIAL LITTLE OLDMAN GUY.....MY BABY OLD. BENJBUTTON DOG. precious fuzzy man#he desperately needs a haircut i gotta call the vet tomorrow aaaugh ive been procrastinating abt it but hes SOO shaggy#i hate getting him cut in the winter bc i feel BAD if hes nakey bc its COLD outside. but i dont want him to be so shaggy he gets matted...#and his fur is curly fluffy so i dont wanna hurt him by trying to comb/brush it out yk?#aside from like using my fingers very gently#id say hes doing great for his age tho tbh#hes got mild cataracts and i think hes deaf but hes got 6 teeth which according to my vet is IMPRESSIVE for his age#and like hes healthy otherwise :") he luvs getting the good wet food now bc of the teeth situation#idk i know hes old and it makes me sad to think abt too much but hes doing ok according to the vet who i trust more than my own judgement#there rly isnt anything to be done abt him losing his hearing BUT hes so smart he picks up on hand signals so#he knows what gesture means walkies or food time :) or 'yes u can hop up on the couch with me' hand pat#my cat has started picking up on the hand signals too which is funny#guy whos nonverbal sometimes accidentally teached both their pets animal sign language <-#sanchoyorambles#anyway i wanna ask the vet to do another general checkup even tho he just had one a few months ago bc i am Paranoid JKDFHKJ#top 10 reasons i need to get a job asap . i am trying not to stress abt it but#aaaugh its been difficult and bad job hunting and the idea of calling ppl too late has paraylsed me with fear#i just gotta do it ;__; gun to my own head hollering atmyself to put the phone to my ear and hit call#holding myself hostage at this point bc being gentle is NOT fuckin working SDHFHSKJ#this time of year is always bad brain time tho i need to power thru the anxiety and various Episodes and Attacks#i Bleive in myself....
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ddarker-dreams · 7 months
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Better The Devil You Know.
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Yandere Chrollo x Reader.
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, discussions of past minor character death, and descriptions of anxiety. Word count: 2.6k.
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You awake to cold sheets and damp cheeks. 
It isn’t a peaceful transition into consciousness. You fight for each breath, a losing battle that swaddles your mind in thick fog. The vapors thin out as time drags along. It doesn’t dissipate in its entirety, preferring to linger and prolong your disorientation. 
You wipe at your face with your wrists, ignoring the sting accompanying the action. Hesitatingly, you appraise it in a ray of moonlight that snuck past the blinds. It’s clear, not crimson and thick. A normal product of a healthy body. You should feel relieved, you think. Every organ is as it should be. Your brain remains in your cranium, your lungs expand and contract, and your heart pumps, albeit at an alarming speed. 
It’s better than the chill of encroaching death. 
… 
You are alive, aren’t you? 
This question prompts an investigation. 
Nothing hurts. Your throat, maybe, but that’s a minor ache spurred from thirst. Your skin is warm and clammy. Peeling the comforter off, you squint, assessing your body’s condition. Weary eyes take in everything. Your socks, the lace trimming of your nightgown, its diaphanous midriff, then your chest. Everything appears in order.  
Would your incorporeal form accurately reflect your physical body? 
You shake your head. 
This can’t be heaven — no pantheon would be cruel enough to set the stage of your paradise with props from your captivity. 
It can’t be hell either. If it were, you wouldn’t be alone right now.
You blink.
You’re alone? 
Chrollo’s side of the bed is notably empty. He must’ve got up in a hurry, the sheets are in disarray. The adjoining restroom is dark and unoccupied, confirming he must be elsewhere. Your stomach churns. Determined to do away with this creeping anxiety, you get up, padding across the hardwood floor. 
The night gifts shivers and goosebumps. Wishing to ward off its unwanted advances, you wrap your arms around yourself. You pass through the door that connects to the common area. Although it’s dimly lit, you can tell he isn’t here. The attached balcony is similarly uninhabited. A quick foray into the study confirms your status; you’re truly by yourself. 
What should be a triumph or a relief delivers nothing but dread. 
You return to the common room to assess the situation. 
You’ve never been left alone before. Not without him telling you in advance, normally with a rough estimate of when he’ll return. There’s no way an important detail like that would slip your mind. At a loss, you dredge through your memories for some sign you may have missed. His voice pierces through your head like an arrow. You wince but ignore your body’s displeasure at anything associated with him. The unintelligible noises sharpen, forming consonants and vowels. 
The thrum of the air conditioner eases away. 
You’re left in absolute silence, until Chrollo’s voice fades away, replaced by another.
“... She was five or six, I think. Right around the age where you start losing baby teeth. There’d been this game she wanted and, y’know, kids aren’t rolling in cash. So she figured, what better way to pay for it than through the tooth fairy? I caught ‘er with my wrench, determined as anything, ready to speed up the process. It ended up being a little inside joke between us.”
Your lower lip trembles. 
“... That’s how she ended up getting identified. Her teeth, I mean. Wasn’t anything else left to go off of. I couldn’t wrap my brain around it. A whole life she lived, sometimes getting into trouble, but mostly helping others outta theirs. And to have that— all that— reduced to just… just a couple, couple fuckin’— teeth? What kinda joke is that?”
You fill a glass with water until it overflows.  
“Hey, tell me. Has that fucker ever mentioned ‘er? … Probably not, right? Probably never knew she existed in the first place.” 
Head thrown back, you gulp down the liquid, fighting the lump that longs to form in your throat. 
“Who knows? Maybe I’m the one in the wrong ‘ere. Hell, you don’t look much older than her yourself. I don’t— don’t wanna hurt ya. But…” 
Tears prick the corner of your eyes. 
“There’s no other way to hurt him.” 
Someone’s beside you.
You can hear their voice, though it sounds like it’s coming from miles away, carried over by the wind. Warmth sears your bare shoulders. You smell the faint aroma of sandalwood and amber. It’s distinct, this cologne that serves as an ill-omen better than any blackbird or cracked mirror. You couldn’t scrub it from your memory if you tried. That, or the scent of old books, leather, coffee, and red wine. 
You dig your nails into something — fabric, perhaps — but nothing grounds you. It’s like you’ve been transported outside of space and time. Existing, yet far from alive. Your stomach falls while your head floats away. Up, up, up, lifting you higher and higher. From this impossible vantage point, you sway, your limbs gleefully ignoring every attempt to regain control. 
And there it is again. Your name echoes throughout the atmosphere, beckoning you to acknowledge the sound’s source. 
Maybe you should.
Even if you’ll come to regret it. 
When you first met Chrollo, his eyes stood out the most, like the universe itself deemed them worthy of veneration. You found the gray depths captivating. The undertone varied, you never could ascertain if they were a cool or warm shade. All you knew was that once they found you, they boasted a vitality siphoned at the expense of your own. 
Presently, they can’t. Their unwitting host has been exsanguinated. 
“Where were—” You silence yourself, aghast by the implication. 
You’d sought him out. So desperate for an anchor, you would’ve latched onto the culprit behind your drowning. There’s no doubt he’d find some twisted satisfaction in the accidental admission. You shrink away, but the solid counter presses against your spine, halting your retreat. He doesn’t advance, you’d barely created any distance. 
“There’d been something that required my immediate attention,” Chrollo answers your unfinished question. There’s no thinly veiled derision or curiosity in his voice. You miss the familiarity. “Does anything hurt?” 
It’s then that you recall your predicament. 
You’re on the kitchen floor, surrounded by scintillating shards of glass. A pool of water gathers to your right. Chrollo’s bent down before you, wearing a heavy coat and a tint of pink on his nose. He must’ve come from outside. He stares unblinkingly, awaiting your verdict, which you deliver by shaking your head. There’s a dull ache in your tailbone but you keep that to yourself. It’s awkward enough that he found you in this state. 
You’re sitting on the floor with one leg extended and the other bent at the knee, allowing your short nightgown to ride up. The compromising position stokes your embarrassment. You shuffle around to maintain some dignity. In doing so, you forget the pointed glass strewn about. Before you make contact, you’re hoisted up. Chrollo foresees your struggle and holds you tight enough to thwart its success. 
“You’re alright,” he reassures, his sincere gentleness unbecoming. "Everything's alright."
He places you down on the closest couch and sits beside you. While you regain your bearings, he shrugs off his jacket, then drapes it around your trembling form. His scent and warmth flood your senses. You consider throwing it off out of spite, only to decide against it. You’d be the one to suffer the most. Chrollo remains unusually silent as you cocoon yourself in the thick wool jacket. It’s big on you, but not big enough to swallow you whole like you’d prefer. 
“Should I grab your propranolol?” 
Another head shake.
“Will you tell me what happened?” Foreseeing your tepid response, he adds, “Verbally?” 
You clear your throat as quietly as you can. “I got thirsty.” 
“Hm.” 
You both know he isn’t convinced. It’d be easy for him to poke and prod until you revealed everything — intentionally or not — but his lips remain in a thin line. You shuffle in your seat. The fabric brushes against your wrists, eliciting a sharp inhale. The burn is short-lived yet the memories associated with it rage on. 
“... Chrollo?” 
He blinks, likely unused to the sound of his name on your lips. “Yes, love?” 
“If that man killed me, would it have hurt you?” 
A shadow falls over his visage, like a waxing crescent transitioning to a new moon. When you shiver, it isn’t from the cold. Dark hair frames a far darker expression. His eyes narrow as if he’s trying to see you better, beyond your flesh, at the crux of your soul. You await whatever comes next, returning his stare with equal intensity. 
Finally, he slowly replies, “Yes, it would’ve.” 
“Then why was it so easy for you to kill his daughter?” You ask, the words weighing heavily upon you. “You might’ve liked her, if you’d gotten to know her.” 
The man revealed enough for you to feel like you knew her. Lana Ellis — a woman with an iron will, sharp tongue, and golden heart. She’d recently been hired to work as a waitress at a business that catered high-end events. Galas, celebrity birthdays and weddings, those sorts of things. It wasn’t going to be a permanent arrangement. Lana planned to ditch the gig after saving up tuition money, where she’d then aim for a doctorate in veterinary medicine. According to him, he’d squandered her college fund after the unexpected death of her mother; his childhood sweetheart. He said he’d never forgive himself or the Troupe. 
“She wasn’t s’posed to have been there,” he wheezed. “She never should’ve been there…!” 
Chrollo shuts his eyes. “What are you getting at, dear?” 
His words come out light, though they’re anything but. 
“She could’ve been me.” 
“Yet she wasn’t.” 
“But—!” Your voice cracks, so you take a deep breath and try again. “You… you deprive the world of people you could’ve come to like, be friends with, whatever! All for stuff you eventually do away with. How is that… how can you…” 
Righteous anger suits you. It's a sword and shield that requires no skill to wield, reaching for the instruments have become second nature. Their effectiveness doesn't matter so long as you can hold onto something.
“You don’t need to understand.” 
This isn't a parry or pivot, he's disarmed you.
“Huh?” 
“Yes… if anything, it’s best if you don’t,” he mutters, more to himself than you. His eyes find yours again. “I can’t make sense of your empathy any more than you can grasp my lack of it. If I could, you’d no longer be yourself. Your self-limiting, bleeding heart should remain as is. It’s the one part of you I’ll leave untouched.” 
You don’t know what you were expecting. 
You slump back into your seat. “... Don’t you think you’re overestimating yourself?” 
“Hardly,” he replies. Then, in a softer voice, “You torment yourself, love. This—” 
He rests his hand over your heart.
“—Hurts you more than anything I’ve ever done. Yet you believe it unthinkable I’d do away with such an inconvenience.” 
“So you’re a coward,” you mumble. The insult is uninspired but it suits your purposes. “You can’t handle it, so you took the easy way out.” 
“Rationalize it anyway you'd like.” 
Chrollo reaches for your forearm and coaxes it into view. His fingers brush along your wrists, where the man’s restraints left rope burn behind. The irritated skin is slowly recovering. The deeper wounds, those without a cure, will linger after the surface heals. They’re etched into your bones. 
“Isn’t going against your morals worse than having none?" Chrollo queries. “That girl’s father knew you had no involvement in his daughter’s death. You’re an unwilling third party, same as she was. And he was ready to hurt you regardless."
Your mouth feels dry. “He didn't hurt me—” 
Chrollo raises an eyebrow, causing head to flood your cheeks.
“—All... that... much. I don’t think he was going to...?” 
“No, not until he was intoxicated enough to stomach it,” Chrollo retorts. “We’ll never know for certain, darling. Thankfully, I interrupted before it could get to that point."
That point, that point, that point...
What could that man have done to you?
Chrollo appraises you like he's yet to decide on something.
After a moment passes, he leans in, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. Your muscles stiffen as he pulls you close. He exerts none of the force you know him to be capable of. The gesture's languid nature gives the impression you could wriggle free if you tried. You don't test this theory. Chrollo's mood seems pensive, not amorous, hence your hesitant compliance.
He speaks your name. Then, he asks, "What's really bothering you?"
Biting your lip, you turn your head away from him.
He doesn't relent. "You can tell me anything, you know."
If you weren't so utterly exhausted, you might've laughed.
"You wouldn't be my first choice for a heart-to-heart."
"How about your second?"
You look at him like he's just suggested the world is flat. He smiles softly, allowing you time to think.
It's weird.
This is weird.
The lack of verbal finesse, designed to extract any emotion or confession he desires. You're used to his cunning, his depravity, his unfiltered self. You've come to expect it, as one would the sunrise and sunset. Briefly, you search for it. The expedition is futile. His normal tells are gone.
Truly, you could almost forget the imbalanced nature of this dynamic and pretend it's normal.
It isn't, however.
So you'll need to keep your wits about you.
"Could... er..." you trail off, uncertain of the best parlance, "Will something like that... happen... again...?"
The claustrophobia of being shut in a trunk. Blindfolded, hands and feet bound, gagged by a rag. Terrified and sobbing. Unable to breathe, unable to scream.
You feel as small now as you did then.
The man told you his reasoning. It tugged on your heart. Wringed the organ for everything it was worth. He deserved justice. He deserved revenge. At that lone instance, the playing field was even. The immeasurable gap in strength between him and the Phantom Troupe's boss meant nothing if Chrollo wasn't physically present. There was a chance for this bereaved father to return the pain unfairly inflicted on him.
But why on you?
Why do you have to be cast into hell for the sins of another?
And why was it so tempting to forgive the devil's transgressions against you, if he provided salvation just this once?
You don't know when you began shaking, but you do know it won't be easy to stop.
"You must've been scared," he murmurs.
This observation makes your throat feel impossibly tight, as if a serpent coiled around your neck. His eyelashes flutter shut and he rests his forehead against yours. He contents himself on breathing in your air while you wrestle with the odd intimacy of it all; this simplicity untainted by needling or provocations.
"I never make the same mistake twice," Chrollo eventually says. "In light of recent events, I've made it clear that you are off limits. Those who still wish to try their luck, well..."
The air itself writhes like a malicious entity. The sensation is brief, but the impression lingers, chilling you on a primordial level. You're reminded that his control, while impressive, isn't flawless. Every surface can fissure, allowing the noxious contents contained within to break free. This concentration of ill-intent isn't even focused at you. To be on the receiving end must be to face the inevitably of death.
"... They can be made examples of too."
Curiosity nips at your heels, demanding satiation.
Your part your lips.
Then his eyes reopen. They're dull, lacking any illumination, like light itself felt the urge to flee.
It's an understandable sentiment.
For that reason, you decide some questions are better left unanswered.
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purple-babygirl · 7 months
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don't call me daddy
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader
Word count: 4,826
Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.
Warnings: Bucky is mean, a couple of insults, mistreatment of age regressed reader, crying, mentions of hot liquid getting on skin, crying, mentions of the r-word and the s-word, Bucky's PTSD & nightmares
A/N: so this is an idea I've had for forever and I finally mustered up enough courage to share it with you guys. Please enjoy and let me know what you think and if you have anything you'd like to suggest for the upcoming parts. I love you 💜
~
“This sounds stupid,” Bucky grumbled when Sam suggested the program.
“It's not stupid, Buck and it works!”
“If it worked for you doesn't mean it's gonna work for me, Sam. You have patience and it's in your nature to want to take care of people.”
“Says the one who looked out for Steve all his life!”
“Steve was one person and he was actually dumb, he wasn’t acting like he can't fucking feed himself!”
“They're not acting. They're age regressed.” Sam tried to remain calm.
“What does that even mean!”
“It means—”
“You know what? I don't care because I'm not doing it.” Bucky smiled before leaving Sam's house and going back to hide in his own.
But Sam was persistent. He was determined to get Bucky help that would actually help. So he suggested the program to Bucky's therapist and before Bucky could punch him, she was having him sign the contract.
“Sam, I don't wanna meet anyone. It's not gonna work anyway so let's just pick any of them.”
“They're not service dogs, Bucky!”
“Really? Because that's exactly what it sounds like they are to me.”
Sam glared at him, elbowing his side as a short lady with a kind smile approached them.
Bucky didn't pay her much attention. He didn't want to be here and he didn't care what she was reciting.
Only thing that caught his attention was when she asked him what age he would prefer so she could introduce him to a group of littles.
He was dreading this. It was stupid.
“…what are you looking for?” Bucky caught the end of her talk with Sam.
“I don't know, someone who can talk like they're not retarded,” he answered the lady rudely and she smiled in understanding when Sam apologized.
“They're not retarded. All of them are perfectly healthy and okay. They're age regressed,” she told Bucky and he rolled his eyes so hard he felt they might never return from the back of his head.
He hated those two words. Age regressed, what the fuck did that even mean?
“Maybe we can meet some of the littles who are not so young, like 6 year olds?” Sam suggested and she nodded, leading them to a building with long corridors and lots of doors.
Bucky could see adult women and men playing with dolls, sleeping with pacifiers and some of them even had other people feeding them.
What the hell was this place? Did they expect him to do that? With a person perfectly capable of handling his or her own self but chooses not to?! Was this the 21st century? Because he didn’t like it very much.
The lady led them inside her office and got a group of files out of some organized drawer. She'd barely laid them out on the table before Bucky was slamming his finger on one.
“We'll take this one,” he said, staring at the lady in disinterest.
“But you haven't even seen them,” Sam said between his teeth, kicking his leg under the table. He wished Bucky cared enough to do this right.
“I've seen enough. I pick this file and I wanna leave,” Bucky seethed back.
“This is Doll. She's one of the softest littles I've ever met and I think you've made a great choice, Mr. Barnes.”
“You call her Doll?”
“Yes, real names aren't revealed for the privacy of our littles unless they decide otherwise and she chose the name herself when she joined us.” The lady smiled kindly, making Bucky even madder.
“Whatever, let's get this over with. Tell her to come so we could leave.”
“Mr. Barnes, I have to admit your attitude towards this is very concerning and I fear I cannot risk the peace of our littles who confide in us to find them safe partners! Like I said she's one of the gentlest and I need to know you're going to treat her right before I even let you meet her!” The woman voiced her concerns and Bucky sighed.
He couldn't blow this now. He's come far enough with this whole process and if he went back to his therapist like that she was definitely going to get out her dreadful notebook.
He had to take this girl home tonight or else they would make him go through this same process over and over again.
“I'm sorry. I'm just a little confused, I guess.” Bucky scratched his beard.
“That's okay.” She smiled again, “most of our visitors are, but you can always ask.”
“Well— what is wrong with them?!” He exclaimed, gesturing with his hands in the air.
Sam kicked him again and glared.
“What? She said I could ask!”
“It's okay,” she told Sam with a chuckle.
“Nothing is wrong with them. Them regressing in age is their way to cope and relieve anxiety or deal with other mental illnesses such as traumatic experiences, or even just stress. It's a freer, calmer state of mind for them to return to when it's no longer easy for them to be big.”
Her calm, kind manner while explaining this made Bucky even angrier inside. This wasn’t normal and they should all stop acting like it was.
“So they're supposed to be helping me with my issues but they're dealing with their own issues?”
Like he originally thought, this was stupid.
“Yes, it's a mutual helping program.” The lady confirmed.
“Oh. And what's this Doll's issue?”
“Doll reverts to age regression as a coping mechanism for her depression and PTSD. She's been doing great lately actually!”
“Is she suddenly gonna go grownup or?” Bucky continued, involuntarily asking every question on his mind.
“No, like I said, Doll reverts to little space for the comfort and safety of it and while she can coax herself out of her headspace, she rarely ever chooses to.”
“But she can?”
“Yes. But I need to tell you, Mr. Barnes, that this is not why you're here.” She reminded, wanting to ensure the safety of self expression for the little one.
“I know.”
“I also need you to promise me to be a good caregiver for her. She's a sweet girl and I can guarantee she will be good for you.”
“I promise.” Bucky knew he was lying but he couldn’t care less about his honesty at the moment.
“And it’s never acceptable to make fun of her or try to force her into a more grownup headspace. That only makes it worse and her mind regresses further.”
“So what she becomes younger?!” He was trying so hard not to get frustrated, why make him!
“That's correct.” She nodded.
“How young?” Sam asked.
“The youngest she's ever been is 4.”
“Oh.” Great. Just great.
“She can still talk just fine,” she reassured them, knowing Bucky didn't want anyone who couldn't talk or seemed 'retarded'.
“Okay, good.” Bucky nodded, wanting to get out of the place as soon as possible.
“Would you like to meet Doll now or do you wanna take a look at the rest of the files?”
“I'll meet her.” Bucky stood up, hand already at the doorknob.
~
The meeting thing went relatively well and Bucky was surprised the girl wasn't intimidated by his frown or intense stare. She was mesmerized by the metal arm even.
He wasn't going to lie to himself, he still thought this whole thing was dumb but he needed to convince his therapist and everyone that he was okay again so they'd leave him alone.
She didn’t ask him any questions or have any conditions. She just stared at him with wide, sparkly eyes.
A minute later he heard the girl whisper her agreement to the short lady.
Apparently, she was big enough to make the decision to leave with a strange man she didn't know but not enough to properly dress herself or sleep without a damn toy.
Bucky was relieved anyway; glad she was idiotic enough to choose him so he wouldn't have to meet with any other 'littles'. And she wasn't ugly to look at either.
The old lady had a word with her privately before she was packing a bag and they were on their way to Bucky’s place.
~
“Where do I stay, daddy?”
Bucky hasn’t said a word to her since they’d left the institution. He made her carry her bag from the car to the elevator and from the elevator inside the apartment. He wasn’t going to be nobody’s maid.
She was physically capable and that didn’t need a professional to see it.
“I don’t know, figure it out.” Bucky shrugged, kicking his shoes off by the door and stepping inside.
She followed his lead and neatly placed her shoes at the corner by the door as well.
“Where do you want me to stay, daddy?” she asked politely, wanting to make him comfortable, seeing he was the owner of the house.
He was making her a little nervous.
This wasn’t his energy back at the institution and she tried her best not to get scared.
“I don't want you. I never did,” Bucky told her the minute she sat on his couch, throwing his keys on the wooden coffee table, “We're just gonna pretend your presence here is changing something and then I'm gonna return you.”
I don't want you.
She's definitely heard that before.
Return her. Like she was some sort of item. She wasn't what he wanted and it cracked her trained-to-love heart.
“Yes, daddy,” she replied brokenly, tears threatening to spill over the rims of her eyes.
Nothing was worse than feeling unwanted.
“Don't call me that.” Bucky snapped.
“B— But you're my daddy.” She was seriously confused now. Why would he pick her if he didn’t want this?
“I'm not your anything and stop acting so small, you look grown up enough to me.”
Why did he take her home if he didn’t like her and didn’t want to be her Daddy?
“I'm not acting.” Tears rolled down her cheeks and she felt more insecure than ever.
“Yeah, yeah, you're age regressed. Whatever, just don't call me that. I'm no one's daddy.” Bucky took his shirt off throwing it on the couch beside her, making her flinch.
“But what should I call you if not—”
“Call me Mr. Barnes, if you're so keen on being polite.” Bucky rolled his eyes.
“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She sniffled.
“And stop crying.” He huffed.
“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She quickly wiped at her face, holding the rest of her tears inside and forcing the lump in her throat further down.
Bucky muttered something under his breath before snatching his shirt and leaving to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him as she flinched again.
He didn't say she was a good girl for calling him what he wanted, or for stopping her crying when she was told to. He didn't like her and he wanted to return her.
What was she supposed to do until he sent her back? He didn't want her help even if they said he needed it.
Was it going to be like this for the next 3 months? How was she going to do all of the grown up stuff if Daddy Mr. Barnes didn't help her? How was she going to live? And why did she still care to try her best to be good for the harsh, blue-eyed man?
~
She didn’t know what to do so she sloppily changed her clothes by herself, putting her socks in the hamper to be washed like a good girl.
She washed her hands and feet by herself, unknowingly making Bucky think he was right all along about letting her do things on her own as she should.
That was until he put a hot cup of instant noodles before her for dinner though. He refused to help her eat and she accidentally spilled hot soup over her hand and the wooden table. It was chaos.
Bucky cursed out loud and she started crying in pain.
He had enough pity on her to drag her to the bathroom and put her hand under the cold water. If his hold on her arm hurt, she didn’t say anything.
“Keep it there, don’t you dare move.”
“Mr. Barnes, don’t leave,” she sniffled, eyes red and in pain.
“I’m not leaving you in the Sahara desert.” Bucky rolled his eyes, “I gotta go clean the mess you made.” He left her in the bathroom and she kept her hand under the water, not daring to move like she was told.
“How hard is it to eat fucking noodles! It’s not quantum physics!” Bucky muttered angrily as he wiped the soup off the table with a cloth.
“Fuck that age regression shit I am done!” He took their noodle cups to the kitchen and dumped both in the bin.
“What are you still doing in there! It’s not like you got burnt by lava!” Bucky shouted to her, walking to the bathroom.
“I— I— Mr. Barnes, you told me not to move.” She began crying again at his angry demeanor.
“For fuck’s sake,” Bucky groaned, “do you ever stop crying?!”
“I’m s-sorry.” She hiccupped. She didn’t know what to say or how to please him she just wanted him to stop glaring at her. She was scared.
“Get out of there and dry your hands,” Bucky told her, sitting on the couch with a sigh.
“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” Came her chocked whisper.
“Does it hurt?” Bucky asked when she came out of the bathroom, tears drying on her cheeks.
The question surprised her. Maybe he did care after all.
“Burns a little,” she told him, pointing to the back of her hand where the skin got burnt.
“I might have a cream here somewhere,” he said, trying his best to keep an unconcerned expression on.
She took a look around when Bucky stood up to look in the kitchen. It was a cozy place and she wasn’t too needy but she couldn’t help but wonder about where she was going to sleep.
There didn’t seem to be enough furniture in here.
“Try not to touch it and you should be fine in the morning,” Bucky instructed after applying the burns cream to the sensitive area of skin.
“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” She whispered before absentmindedly pecking Bucky’s cheek.
Bucky’s eyes widened at her guts. He certainly didn’t see that coming. It was her first night here how was she so bold!
His breath stuttered out of his lungs but he quickly recomposed himself.
Bucky’s jaw clenched and he gave her a dark stare.
“Do you have a death wish?”
“N— No.” She quickly shook her head.
“Did I give you permission to do that?”
“No.” She shook her head again, sort of knowing where this was going. She was going to get punished.
“Then why’d you do it?” Bucky sneered through his teeth.
“To th— thank Mr. Barnes.” He made her so nervous she could barely hear herself answer him.
Bucky hated her. She had no sense of boundaries. He hated the way she cried all the time. He hated the way she referred to him in third person.
He hated her.
“You already said that, didn’t you?”
She nodded.
“Don’t do it again.” Was all Bucky said and she was relieved.
“Yes, Mr. Barnes.”
Bucky scoffed and stood up to put the cream back where he found it.
~
Turned out, Bucky had no bed. He slept on the floor and he didn’t need one.
“But where do I sleep, Mr. Barnes?” She asked in a small voice.
“Anywhere that is not next to me,” Bucky replied, not even sparing her a glance.
“Can I sleep here?” she asked, patting the couch.
“Suit yourself.”
“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” She gave a shy smile.
“I didn’t make the damn couch. Just go to sleep.”
“Bad word again,” she whispered.
“What was that?” Bucky raised an eyebrow.
“Nothing.” She slammed a hand on her mouth.
“Repeat what you just said if you know what’s good for you.” Bucky glared.
“I— Mr. Barnes said a bad word,” she whispered shakily.
“Yeah, well, it’s my house! I’ll talk however I want!” Bucky raised his voice.
“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She nodded, not even thinking about arguing that he shouldn’t curse in front of a little.
“Go to sleep.”
“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She quickly plopped on the couch, covering herself with a blanket, and burying her face in a cushion.
Bucky almost chuckled; almost thought it was cute but he shook the smile off his face quickly and sighed, taking his shirt off and getting himself on the hard floor, easily falling asleep.
He always falls asleep so fast because nightmares usually wake him up few hours after; he be waiting for bed time all day.
She peeked from under the blanket when she heard Bucky snore, carefully tiptoeing to her bag to get her stuffie. She took one look at shirtless Bucky, her cheeks heating up, before sliding back under the covers on the couch.
Her Daddy that didn’t like to be called Daddy was beautiful.
~
It has started again. He’s chasing a person, he corners them to where they could not run anymore, his left hand wraps around their throat, they struggle and beg and then snap. He kills them.
Bucky startled awake, having a hard time taking his breath only to find her on the floor next to him.
Her eyes were full of worry and maybe even sympathy as she clutched a stuffed animal. Bucky didn’t like it.
“It’s okay, Daddy— Mr. Barnes. ‘T was just a bad dream.” She whispered, dropping her stuffie to wrap her short arms around Bucky.
He wouldn’t admit it but it felt nice to be held. Something inside him wanted to succumb to the gentleness of her gesture. But Bucky shut that down at once.
“Get off,” Bucky huffed tiredly as the girl clung to him and rubbed his sweaty back.
“But—”
“Get. Off.” He repeated, grinding his teeth and she reluctantly slipped off his lap and went back to her spot on the floor.
She stared at him as he panted and frowned for a second before leaving the room.
Bucky scoffed, rubbing a hand down his hot face. She probably went to cry in the bathroom again; such a crybaby.
Except she didn’t.
She returned with a relatively cool glass of water, only half full. She didn't want to be bad and spill.
“I got you water, Mr. Barnes.” She carefully got on her knees and offered him the cup.
“Stop saying my name so much.” Bucky snatched the cup out of her hand, gulping down the water without showing an ounce of gratitude.
She pouted, crawling to her bag to get him tissues because she didn’t see any around.
“So you do know how to act around liquids after all.” Bucky taunted, still not over the fact that she spilled soup over his table before taking the tissues from her to wipe his forehead.
“Do you want me to sing you a lullaby, Mr. Barnes? It helps me after bad dreams.” She suggested, desperately hoping he would let her help.
“Not all of us act like kids to flee our nightmares.”
“Mr. Barnes.” Her eyes filled with tears and it was the last thing Bucky wanted to deal with, “I’m not acting.”
She was hurt but he didn’t care. He said what he said.
“Get back on the couch, I wanna go to sleep.” Bucky dismissed, pushing the empty glass against the wall.
“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She whispered dejectedly, taking her friend and crawling back to the couch.
~
The same thing happened every night for another four nights. At this point she was really worried about the man she started singing lullabies anyway, not waiting for his permission.
“Hey, you!”
“Doll,” she corrected.
“Whatever! Shut up already. I told you I don’t need your stupid singing.” Bucky growled into his pillow.
He was lying. He hated admitting it but he was. Her voice was actually angelic. He never went back to sleep again after a nightmare but that changed when she ignored his wishes and started singing. Bucky could drift off again to her soft voice.
He could get more hours of nightmareless sleep because of her lullabies. But he was too stubborn to admit anything that came from her was working for him.
It must be a coincidence. He probably fell asleep again because he was exhausted from being mad at her all day.
“I know Mr. Barnes doesn’t need it. It’s for me.” She lied as well. She knew lying wasn’t good girl like but she was helping Mr. Barnes; it was for good reason.
~
“Mr. Barnes,” her small voice called to him but Bucky was ignoring her.
He was pretending he couldn’t hear her and continued staring at the TV because she talked too much for his liking.
“Mr. Barnes.” She ever so lightly touched Bucky’s arm.
“What!” he spit suddenly, making her jump.
“We— We need to go shopping. Mrs. Morrison will visit tomorrow.”
She knew the process and for some reason didn’t want to be taken away from Bucky.
If Mrs. Morrison came and saw the way the apartment was or the way Bucky treated Doll, she was definitely going to make her leave with her.
“What?!”
“It’s day five.” She reminded, tilting her head to the side.
“Yeah, so?” Bucky’s body fully turned to face her.
“Tomorrow’s visit day. We have to go shopping.”
“How do I know you’re not lying just to get me to buy you things?”
“I don’t lie, Mr. Barnes.” She assured him, looking hurt at even the suggestion.
“It’s in the papers,” she told him, referring to the contract he’s signed as well as the guide he was provided with her file before leaving the institution.
Bucky narrowed his eyes at her, but stood up to look at the papers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer in the kitchen a few days ago.
“Shit,” he muttered when he saw she wasn’t lying. He heard her whisper bad word but chose to ignore it.
There were scheduled visits listed with different time intervals between each visit for the next three months.
Bucky groaned, throwing the paper sheet back in the drawer and slamming it shut.
“Put your clothes on, we’re going fucking shopping.”
“Bad word.”
“Don’t even—” she ran to the bathroom to change before Bucky could get angrier.
What has Sam gotten him into?
~
“Why’s your hair so messy!” Bucky asked, shoving her out of his way to grab a jar of peanut butter and put in the cart.
“I don’t know how to do it on my own an’ Mr. Barnes kept telling me to hurry up.”
Her voice was so small and if Bucky wasn’t so infuriated by the situation he would’ve felt bad for how he spoke to her.
“You’d think you’d actually look decent enough after taking forever to get ready.” Bucky huffed.
She remained silent, looking down and closing in on herself.
“Do you eat this?” Bucky asked, waving a box of corn flakes in front of her.
“Yes, Mr. Barnes.”
Bucky nodded, throwing the box in the cart.
“Didn’t I tell you to stop saying my name so much?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Barn—” Bucky’s cold stare stopped the word on her tongue.
“Call me Bucky.”
He didn’t want her to call him Bucky. But if that Mrs. Morrison was visiting tomorrow she couldn’t know he made her speak to him formally.
“Bucky?”
“Bucky.”
“Yes, Bucky.” She smiled shyly, feeling one step closer to the man.
Bucky didn’t know his life would turn upside down so fast.
He never cared about grocery shopping because he didn’t need that much stuff and he mostly ate at restaurants or diners or bought take out. He mainly just had beer filling his fridge.
But with her tied to him now he was buying all kinds of food: fresh vegetables and fruits, juice boxes, snack bars and way too many Oreos. Not to mention the toiletries he had to pay for because aside from her tooth and hair brushes, she came with nothing.
“Bucky, can we please get this?” she asked, pointing to a stuffed white wolf.
“No, you already have one at home. I see it every night.”
“Please, Bucky, please. Pretty please,” she begged, giving puppy eyes and pressing her palms together even.
“Okay, fine, shut up. God!” Bucky grumpily put the toy in the cart and got them to the nearest cashier before she could pick anything else.
She was so happy and was going to cherish her new stuffie more than ever.
~
Bucky was pacing back and forth in the living room. He needed to find a way to convince her not to tell Mrs. Morrison or whatever her name was how he treated her.
He didn’t want her to know she had any type of power over him because of the situation.
Bucky definitely wasn’t going to say please, but he also knew he couldn’t scare her into saying what he wanted.
“Bucky, please go to bed. Wolfie can’t sleep.” She whined, hugging her newest stuffie to her heart.
Bucky gave her yet another hard glare. She made him so angry that sometimes he forgot how to function. She was so spoiled and oblivious.
“I won’t say anything to Mrs. Morrison,” she whispered.
“You think I care what you have to say?! They could take you right now for all I care!” Bucky replied angrily.
“I know…” she mumbled, “I don’t want them to.”
Her words left Bucky without a reply. He was confused. She didn’t want to leave? Why not? Bucky hasn’t said one kind word to her since she’s been entrusted to him.
Was she some type of masochist?
“I wanna stay with Bucky. Sing him lullabies and eat noodles with him,” she said, her voice soft and heavy with sleep, before her eyes shut as she drifted off.
Her words put Bucky at ease for now and he got on the floor to finally try to get some sleep. He tried to ignore the way they affected him though.
~
“Bucky,” she called gently.
“Hmm.”
“I need to shower,” came her timid whisper.
“Do you see me using the bathroom?! Help yourself.” Bucky huffed, stirring the sugar in his mug.
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?!” he snapped, throwing the spoon in the sink.
“I need Bucky’s help.” Her face was on fire with embarrassment of having to say this out loud.
“For fuck’s sake,” Bucky rolled his eyes, pushing his mug aside before grabbing her arm and pushing her to the bathroom.
She whimpered as they stood before the glass door of the shower.
“This, because you’re not stupid you’re just age regressed, opens the hot water.” Bucky pointed to the tap handle on the right. “This opens the cold water. And this—”
“Bucky, that’s not what I need help with.” She shook her head, biting down on her lip.
“What do you want from me then?!” Bucky had no patience and her bashfulness wasn’t helping.
She raised her arms up before whispering, “I need Bucky to gimme a shower.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Bad word.”
“Don’t start now! You don’t know how to shower?!”
She shook her head, pouting as her eyes got teary again, “not when little.”
“This is bullshit. I didn’t even wanna do this. Damn you, Sam Wilson!” Bucky said, walking out of the bathroom angrily as she trailed behind him like the lost puppy she was.
“Bad word.”
“Stop!” Bucky boomed and she put her hands behind her back timidly.
“Please, Bucky,” she begged, getting hold of his hand.
“No! On my dead body!”
~
“Stand straight or I swear I’m gonna leave you here and go!”
“Yes, Bucky,” she giggled, the water trickling down her spine tickling her.
“Now what?” He huffed, trying not to stare at her naked chest.
“Now, this.” She held up the bottle of conditioner for him and Bucky sighed before taking it and squeezing some on his hand.
He was about to smooth it down her scalp when she moved away.
“No, no! This goes on the ends or else it gives you dandruff,” She said and Bucky would’ve facepalmed so hard if it wasn’t for the slippery matter covering his palms.
This was going to be long.
~
She was fast asleep on Bucky’s couch after her shower, so peaceful and without a care in the world.
Bucky envied her as he got in place on the floor. He really wished he had enough flexibility in him to accept help and care from someone.
But no, he didn't need her. He didn't need any of this. He just had to go through tomorrow and the rest will figure itself out.
Yeah, yeah just tomorrow for now, Bucky thought as he drifted off.
part II
~
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705 notes · View notes
mediumgayitalian · 6 months
Text
Will would like to say, at risk of perjuring himself, that he did not intend to fall asleep.
Like, he wanted to.
And he did.
But it was not his original intent.
His original intent was to stabilize his patients (success), climb out the back window of the infirmary (success), stick the landing (failure is good for growth), meet Nico behind the Big House (success), and shadow travel to his cabin without throwing up (fifty percent is a pass). The secondary intent was to sprawl on his boyfriend’s lap, taking up as much space as possible in his massive, against-camp-regulations bed (how it is possible to be Dionysus’ nepo baby without actually being a child of Dionysus, Will shall never know), turn off his brain, and watch him play video games for a while.
The issue is that Nico is so comfortable.
Yeah, he’s bony. And yeah, sometimes he gets really into the game and forgets that Will is there, elbowing him in the face as he cusses at the screen in what sounds like ancient Latin. And yeah, the sound of a CoD lobby is the opposite of a sleep-conductive environment. However.
However.
While he may spend hours of his week standing on tables, lecturing on healthy eating habits and regular circadian rhythms via sonnet, and enforcing said habits via taser (rip Leo Valdez, you would’ve loved watching Will taser people for stress relief, come back alive soon), Will is what his friends and family call a ‘big fat hypocrite’.
He wouldn’t know healthy habits if they painted themselves bright neon blue (the easiest colour for him to see), stood ten feet tall, dressed in Malvolio’s outfit from Twelfth Night, and roundhouse kicked him in the teeth his mother spent thousands of dollars on (braces suck). He has not slept through the night even once his whole life. Yesterday, his two meals were 1) twizzlers and 2) audacity. He once measured how much liquid he had in his system on any given time and then drank approximately two point seven litres of RedBull to become, by volume, one half percent caffeine. (His heart did indeed stop. But it started back up again when Jason shocked him, so it was fine. Plus, he wrote it all down, so in reality it was science.)
Also, his dumbfuck peers keep getting themselves maimed, and he was informed unfortunately by Chiron that he cannot strike and leave them to suffer. (Accusing him of violating his First Amendment Right To Petition got him nothing but stable duty.) As of ten minutes before Nico picked him up, he was on his thirty-ninth consecutive hour of being awake. Probably. (He’s reasonably certain that climbing a tree on Friday morning and belting himself to the trunk, Katniss Everdeen style, for a quick catnap was not a fever dream, but one can never be too certain.)
Regardless. Point is, Will had cute boys to cuddle and Thoughts to Think. He had no intention of falling asleep.
And, yet.
He wakes up warm — the perfect kind of warm, wherein you feel akin to a soupified caterpillar in a chrysalis — or like a croissant lovingly shaped by the hands of an elderly chef in Paris and baked with care in a regulated oven — or like a wonderfully blubbery elephant seal baking on a slick rock — or like a space rock hurtling through the —
“Morning, Sunshine,” murmurs a very familiar voice. Following the very gentle murmur is a very gentle smooch on the forehead. Will, still mostly asleep, thinks he would sign off his soul without a second thought to ensure it happens again. “Or evening, rather.”
“Has anyone ever offered you their soul?” Will asks, fuzzy and disoriented. He tries and fails to blink the grogginess away, but the world around him stays dark, and the hand in his hair remains where it is, and he is so, so sleepy.
“Not yet,” Nico says. Will can hear the amused smile in his voice. “Why?”
Will yawns. “No reason. Timizzit?”
“Late, tesoro. Past curfew.”
Will groans, knocking his head gently back into Nico’s hold.
Of course his dumb ass slept through the evening. Of course he now has to drag himself awake and walk, in the blistering, nose-numbing frost (it’s sixty degrees, Solace) across camp, dodging feral harpy attacks (Apollo kids have harpy immunity, William), and trudging into his sad, small, lonely bed (gods above you are your father’s son) where he will of course be fully awake by the time he gets there. God really does give his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers. (You’re an atheist, William Andrew.)
“Why me,” he laments, refusing to move from his boyfriend’s lap. Perhaps he will simply wither here, warm, satisfied, and more importantly away from little siblings who will not stop squabbling even when their long-suffering older brother looks longingly and pointedly at a bottle of cyanide.
Nico snorts. “Because the gods are punishing you for your crimes.”
“I have committed no crimes! This is unjust! Partisan! I am Hester Prynne and she is me —”
“Your mother is going to hell for teaching you literacy.”
“Defamation and libel!”
“Shut up, Will, gods —”
But he softens the blow of his words by leaning down, hands on either side of Will’s face, and kissing him like he’s trying to breathe him back to life. Or keep him quiet, honestly, but he smells like woodsmoke and citrus and old leather so Will doesn’t really mind. Even if he did, the chapped skin of Nico’s lips serves as a very good distraction, as does the brush of his thumb over Will’s cheekbone and the cool press of his ring against Will’s heated skin.
“Stay over,” he whispers, shifting his lips to Will’s chin, his jaw, his neck. He scratches his teeth lightly against Will’s adam’s apple and his hemoglobin briefly forget how important their job is. “You don’t have a shift tomorrow and everyone at camp owes you, like, twelve favours each.”
“That’s very convincing,” Will mumbles, unsure if he’s referring to Nico’s sound logic or the breath he blows on the shell of Will’s ear, which makes his arrector pili muscles go crazy. (He could make a more convincing case for the logic if all the blood had not abandoned his brain. Alas.)
“I’m a very convincing person.”
He slides a hand under Will’s shirt and his already very weak resolve pulls out a suitcase, packs its things, and abandons its family to pursue a career in competitive shoemaking. Or something. Nico’s hands are very very cold and it feels really really good for some reason and Will is just one man, okay. He may have been named after willpower but that does not mean he possesses any. And Nico is a convincing person. He out-stubborned Death.
“Okay,” he gasps out, arching into the nail Nico scratches over the intensely sensitive skin of his hip, “I’m staying, I’m staying, please take all your wiles and ship them out into the sea in a wine crate ala Danaë and her newborn.”
“…You are such a deeply strange person.”
“And yet you love me so.”
Nico presses his smile to Will’s forehead. “Indeed, I do.”
591 notes · View notes
almostempty · 2 months
Text
Maladaptive Coping Mechanisms
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader
Summary: Looking for an escape from a horrible day, you take a sexy stranger home from the bar. 
Warnings: drinking, smoking, smut, glorification of substance use as a coping mechanism, using sex to avoid processing emotions, PWP, like mostly just porn and emotions, spit, one (1) pussy slap, pussy pronouns, size kink, sort of pleasuredom!javi, AU unprotected sex has no risks bc i like it that way, piv sex, fingering, creampie,
Notes: cigarette vending machines were real, part 2 exists and if one single person asks for it i’ll post it 
please leave feedback! open to constructive criticism or delusional inspiration
Thanks: to @auteurdelabre , u know what u did 
WC: 6.7K
AO3: here
Part 2: here
Masterlist: Here
It’s not enough.
You feel the inescapable temptation racing like wildfire through your veins. Thick, hot air whips your hair into your face, and you laugh, throaty and as loud as a barking German Shepherd with saliva frothing against their teeth. The thought of jerking the wheel and rolling your car into oncoming traffic causes your fingers to twitch. The roar of the semi-truck you pass drowns out everything else, your music, the wind surging through the windows, and your violent intrusive thoughts. You decide not to opt for a head-on collision. Heading towards your side of town, you slow to a less reckless speed, immediately missing the road noise. 
The temptation still pounds in your head, unbearable. Something stronger. You need something stronger before you drive to his house and choke on the smoke while you burn it to the ground. 
But you’re free! You grin as you race directionless through the streets, the kind of grin that would unsettle a small child. The evening sun blinds you whenever you choose a street facing west, and you welcome the jarring obtrusion, the pain. But driving into the sun isn’t enough. 
You pull over at the first parking spot you can see, ripping off your seatbelt and twisting around to dig under your seat. Nails catch on the carpeting, but you only recognize some change, receipts, and a petrified french fry. The muscles in your shoulder could tear from the tendons for all you care as you contort yourself to check under the passenger seat before digging through every compartment you can fit your fingers into. 
A cigarette seems healthy in comparison to crashing your car or lighting your ex’s house on fire. You swore there was a forgotten pack of smokes under one of the seats in your car, stashed away in case of emotional emergencies months ago before you committed to quitting. Nate must have found them and tossed them. Of course, he could still keep making this day worse. Even after you’d walked out on him mid-rant about how it was somehow your fault that he’d become even more of a repulsive asshole during the months you’d spent apart. “Hope you’re happy with how you chose to use your last ‘second chance,’” you had spat at him, already halfway to the door. You imagined the look cemented on his face as you left. You hope to never imagine his face again. 
Dried tears sting the corners of your eyes. Rubbing at the raw skin burns. You stare at your red eyes in your rearview mirror, and you can see the flicker of your soul nearly snuffed out from the years of despair. Blood pounding in your ears, you roll your head on your shoulders, and popping and grinding noises in your neck add to the symphony of your pulse. Tipping back against the headrest, you refocus and take in your surroundings. A bar. A beacon in the fading golden hour as dusk overtakes her glow. 
Bars have cigarettes. A drink, or four, would help, too. You need to feel something else. Find something strong enough to break through the numbness of anger and embarrassment. Something to override your loquacious internal monologue. It’s not enough.
Your demons materialize on your shoulders, prepared to fight your morality. The neon beer signs in the window sing a siren song. Temptation wins in the first round, she’s a seductress not to be outclassed. 
The gravel crunches under your feet as you cross the parking lot, kicking up little clouds of dust in your wake. Inside, you swerve between the pool tables, crossing the dimly lit space in a beeline to the cigarette vending machine for a new pack and matches before lasering in on an empty stool at the bar. Tunnel vision. 
Cold beer soothes the burn in your throat from the tequila shot you slammed before you even settled your full weight on the barstool. The liquid waterfalls down your throat until the bottle runs dry. The surly bartender replaces it with another, and her eyes flick from yours to the empty shot glass and back. 
“I’ll just stick to beer for now,” you answer. A barely perceptible snicker yanks your attention to your right. He’s smirking to himself, trying to hide it with a swig from his bottle. Your scowl softens by a hair as you rake your eyes down his profile. Strong features, sparkling dark eyes, well-groomed, and an open collar that teases you with a glimpse of the skin of his chest. His look piques your interest. But that smug curl of his lip raises your hackles as you return to your mission: a neurochemical intervention. Maybe he knows where you could procure a lobotomy if nicotine and booze don’t help. 
You slam the second beer, signaling for another. Your head weighs heavily on your shoulders, but you can start to feel the warmth of the alcohol blooming within your chest. A welcome warmth despite the suffocatingly thick air in the bar. You feel the layer of sweat coating your torso. The skin bared on your thighs sticks to the vinyl stool, but you don’t care about being warm and sticky. Your assignment is simple. Get the liquor to your brain before you recruit Smug Mustache and Silent Barkeep to your crew. She can drive; he can be the lookout. Accomplice to arson shouldn’t be a hard sell.
You smile to yourself at the thought. 
The tiny muscles in your face start to relax, and the line between your brows softens. The racing thoughts get quieter, and you can process your environment more easily. The clack of the billiard balls on the pool table, the rock ballad barely audible over the buzz of the patrons. A variety of mostly bald or bearded men occupy different seats, and women with brassy hair and loud laughs hold all the secrets. You and the man seated next to you don’t quite fit the demographic, but nobody seems bothered. 
You slide a cigarette out of your pack, and before you tuck it between your lips, the man next to you pushes the amber-colored ashtray he’d been hoarding towards you and offers you a light. 
Leaning towards him, you’re hit with an intoxicating rush of spicy aftershave, leather, and tobacco. You seize the opportunity to take in his features head-on, inhaling deeply while he unabashedly sweeps his dark eyes over you in turn. Sinfully dark, they flick back up to yours. He drags his thumb across his bottom lip, and you’re entranced momentarily by the need to feel that plush lip between your teeth. 
Sex. 
That could work. Ease the restlessness and the deepening impulse to scream. Maybe that’s the third ingredient to your impulsive master plan. 
“Thanks,” you exhale, breaking the heady silence. The rush of nicotine entwined with alcohol begins to replace the rage in your veins. Vengeful racing thoughts are replaced with a mantra. A dull pounding in the back of your skull. More. You smile. More. More. He tracks your mouth as you press the cold glass bottle to your lips. You swallow and swallow. He raises one eyebrow, head cocked, as you drain the bottle. 
“I’d offer to buy you a drink, but I’m not sure you’d taste it at this rate,” he teases in a voice thick as molasses. 
You consider your frenzied rate of consumption. Might be time to slow down. 
“Maybe you could convince me to savor it,” you challenge. He nods and orders. He studies your lips as you take another drag from your cigarette. More. He doesn’t shy from holding your gaze. Not when you smile or when you look him up and down again. You usually aren’t so forward. The cocktail of substances and the emotional hangover from your failed reconciliation emboldens you. But, one tiny crack fractures, and for a brief moment, you’re gone. 
Your eyes lose focus. Disconnected from your body, the bar, and reality. He watches with amusement. He knows that look. He wears it often. 
Your thoughts flash and crack like a lightning storm. Nate’s face. Livid, red, and sputtering foul insults at you. Enraged that you’re drinking, smoking, and desperate to whore yourself out to the first man you see. Worse. You don’t care. Nate wasted your time and shattered your goodwill. You want to be set free. Erase him and his pathetic voice altogether. 
You take another sip and another drag, hoping one of them will detach his grubby claws from your conscience. You blink, and the horrifying hallucination is gone. 
“Drinking to forget, cariño?” the man you’d been staring past interrupts your thoughts. His tone is genuine. But why? Is that his schtick? Offering to fix broken women with a well-timed light and teasing glance?
“Something like that,” you muse, taking another drag. You hadn’t realized how close you were sat until now. It’s intimate. Smoke curls in a delicate dance between you, alluring as it winds and flares. You feel drawn to him, connected by chance. Something new to focus on. To study. He watches you with such intensity you note. Unwavering. Too sober and too shiny to be a regular old barfly. It’s not a bar full of singles. He’s out of place. Maybe he got lost along a warpath like you. Good. More.
He’s still watching. Waiting for you to elaborate? You let your knee slide forward until it’s pressing into his firm thigh. “Just trying to feel something,” you answer honestly. 
“Mm,” he takes another swig, and you watch his neck in slow motion as he swallows. 
“And you?” 
“Same goal, I guess,” he confirms. His hand drags slowly down his thigh and slides onto your knee. Your mouth parts at the contact of his palm. A new fire rips through your veins, but it’s not rage. More. 
“Would you say it’s working?” you gesture to the bottles coated in beads of condensation on the bar top. 
“No.” He stares at you openly. His carnivorous mouth splits into a grin. 
His boldness makes a giggle bubble up in your throat. You tilt your head back with a laugh. Your hair slides behind your shoulders, exposing the delicate flesh of your neck.
“No,” you repeat in agreement. You match his physicality and grasp his own thigh firmly with your hand, studying his face for any hint of a response. “It’s not enough,” you add, dragging your hand further up his leg. Slowly. 
“You’re looking for more, cariño?” he dares with cloying charm. Yes! More!
You might've rolled your eyes at the whole situation if you weren’t so many drinks in with a sinister desire for escapism. You’ve barely spoken to each other, engaged in an elite-level erotic staring competition instead. 
The best you could do was exchange names. 
“Javier Peña,” you repeated back to him. Deciding if you liked the way it sounded on your tongue. You wet your lips. 
“Just Javi is fine,” he counters while leaving enough cash on the bar to cover both your tabs with a generous tip. 
“Smooth, Just Javi,” you bait, looking at the cash and back to him. He flashes a wolfish smile back. It makes you want to fuck him right here on the bar. More, you scream at him with your eyes. 
He removes the nearly finished cigarette between your much smaller fingers, takes the last drag, and stubs it out in the ashtray. 
If you weren’t so aroused by everything about him, you’d chastise him for trying to get you out of here so quickly. But you feel it rolling off of him, too. It feels like taking a narcotic. Time is syrupy and slow. You feel your smile sticking longer than you meant, your eyes linger hotly, and you squeeze his upper arm harder than intended. It’s an addictive rush to feel your desire reciprocated. And with such urgency. You take in his height and broad frame now that you stand face to face. He stills. Observant. You don’t need any more time to decide what you want. You need to feel him and only him as soon as possible. 
“Let’s go. Now,” you order as you lead him out of the dingy establishment into the clear night. 
You expect him to cage you against the cool metal of his pickup, but he’s a suave gentleman opening the passenger door for you instead. Fine. You slide across the bench seat just as he’s turning the key in the ignition, pressing your curves into the side of his firm body. Restless and grabby, your fingers dance over him, unsure where to start when he grips your chin in his large palm and tilts your face towards his. 
Rage flashes behind your eyes at his interruption. Never far from the surface, ready to lash out.
“Be good for me, cariño,” he says sternly. 
“Oh, I’ll be so good,” you purr, dragging your hand down his chest towards the bulge in his too-tight jeans and batting your lashes before he grabs your hand. 
You huff, indignant. Rolling your eyes. 
 “I’d like to give you my full attention.”
“You can have mine.” 
“No.” 
“Who put you in charge?” you spit out with a fierceness. 
He laughs, harsh and mean. You flush with irritation, recoiling like his grip suddenly burned. What is this? You thought you were reading everything right; you’re in his truck, ready and wanting. Frustrating man. You need something to ease your anger, or you’ll spit venom. 
He leans into your ear like he has a secret despite the privacy of the cab of his truck. Dragging his voice over broken glass and gravel, he murmurs, “You want to feel something?” his hand is suddenly wedged between your legs. “You want more?” He squeezes tight, pressing his fingers against the seam of your denim shorts, and you choke back a moan. His spiced scent fills your nose. You feel his smile against your ear. Your head spins. Yes. You need it now. No games. Your nails dig marks into his wrist, pleading. 
“You get to touch, but I don’t? What is this, Javier? Afraid you won’t last?” You jeer at him. 
His hot laugh fans down your neck. Your body betrays your mind in search of friction. Shamelessly, your hips roll against his hand. 
“Such a sharp tongue,” he tuts at you, pulling back to look into your eyes, “for such a needy pussy,” he pulls his hand away. You fight to still your body and level his stare, feeling the heat of anger and lust in your face. He lists his demands. 
Be good for me. Until we get home. 
Simple. 
Then I will give you what you need. 
Bold. 
Something different washes over you, but you keep pushing at him. 
“And what do I need, Javi?” 
“Need to be stuffed full of this cock until you forget what ‘more’ means.” 
Soaked. Your traitorous pussy floods your already ruined panties. But you can’t shut yourself up. You have to push him harder. 
“Awfully confident, Javi. Hope you aren’t the type to oversell and underdeliver–” Your snide remark is cut off when he covers your hand with his and presses it into the hard bulge in his jeans. 
“Does it feel like an oversell?”
You barely hear him over the sound of your heartbeat pulsing in your ears. No, it most definitely does not feel like an oversell; you refuse to admit it out loud. He grazes the edges of his teeth down tender skin. At the slope where your neck meets your shoulder, he snaps you back into reality with a sharp bite. A small gasp escapes you that he definitely doesn’t miss. 
You catch the smirk. Cocky bastard. 
“Now,” he demands your attention, “you’ll be good for me all the way home.”
It’s definitely not a question, but he stares like he’s waiting for a response. 
You fold your hands in your lap begrudgingly and nod. But something in your chest blooms brightly. The dance for dominance does exhilarate you. He grips your upper thigh like he’s the only thing holding you to the earth. Like you might fly out the window if he lets go. Or, like you might crawl into his lap, sink down onto his cock, and cause you both to launch through the windshield when he crashes into a ditch. 
His fingers tease under the edge of your shorts, white-hot flesh against flesh. You’re wired.
You direct him to your place. It’s close, and you’ve no patience. He doesn’t argue. 
..
You lead him into your home. He doesn’t take you ferociously against the back of the door. Infuriating. You behaved all the way home. He’s a curious juxtaposition of lewd and polite. Restrained, he takes his shoes off at the door and asks for a glass of water. Like he’s your neighbor invited over for tea. But, you can feel the carnality radiating off him as he watches to see if you’ll show good manners. More.
“That’s good, cariño,” he praises, soft and raspy, taking the icy glass from your hand. “Show me your room,” he instructs. How is it your turf, but he’s still in charge? You glare at him briefly before you acquiesce and traipse down your hallway to your bedroom. 
He places the glass of water on your nightstand, still full, and turns to assess you. You furrow your brows. Was the water some kind of test? Whatever. You behaved in the car. You behaved all the way to your bedroom. You’re nearly dizzy with need. Every breath feels like a lifetime.
His golden skin glows in the lamplight. You’d describe it as angelic if he wasn’t driving you mad. Morbid desire crawls under your skin, itchy and tense. He gestures for you to sit on your bed, and you do. If he insists on leading, you’ll follow. 
You fold your hands in your lap again as if awaiting his next command. He cradles your cheek in his palm, and you look up through your lashes. You are not the saint of patience; your fingers twitch with the urge to tear his clothes into shreds. Why is he taking his time? Your mind is racing for a snarky comment when he interrupts your thoughts like he could hear them. 
His touch is so gentle. Patient. Like he’s experienced in domesticating rabid animals. 
“Shhh, I know,” his voice is earnest. Not teasing. Not mocking. 
It catches you off guard. Grounding you. Strange. 
His expression seems to slip into something unguarded as well. A moment of understanding. You see him. Something is building in the distance in your mind. Like the shore is receding before a tidal wave hits. But it’s too quiet without the waves breaking on the rocks. More.
“Make me feel something, Javier,” you reply. 
It hangs delicately in the air. You aren’t provoking or begging. It’s a genuine expression of your desire to run from your internal state.
“I intend to,” he confirms with confidence. Like that’s the permission he was waiting for, the wait is over. Your lips connect. He kisses you with a bright and burning passion. Plush lips and wet tongues slide together expertly. Sharp little nips pull whiny melodies out of you. Your hands tug and pull at his hair, shoulders, and shirt. It’s not enough to just have his mouth. 
“More,” you demand into his tongue. 
“So needy,” he condescends, and you feel your cheeks warm. 
He peels off your shirt, and his hands fly to exposed breasts.
“No bra?” he tuts as if he didn’t put that together while ogling you at the bar. You shake your head in response as he kneads at your soft skin. “Of course not.” He pinches at your nipples with precision, pleasure bridging on pain coursing through your body. You feel your chest arch towards him for relief, deep moans falling from your mouth. You want him to consume you. He looks like he might. 
..
Javi hums at the way your body responds to him. Pliant but strong. You move into his touch, seeking intensity. He increases pressure and maps out your body. 
He lets all his thoughts be filled with you. Your warm skin and soft vanilla scent are hidden until his nose trails behind your ear. You freely let all the sounds and breath spill from your mouth as he caresses you reverently. He wants to know how many sounds you can make. 
You were a delightful surprise, crashing into the bar next to him. He recognized the look in your eyes. He’s going to give you what you need. Because you want it. And because he wants to drown himself in it. He feels drawn to you somehow. 
..
Despite how good it feels to have his hands and mouth on your body, your neglected clit aches for attention. He continues on, almost obliviously, and you reach a fever pitch that splits your eyes wide open. Possessed by one word. More. 
Your fingers come to life and work rapidly, yanking at his belt and the button on his jeans before slipping a hand in to feel. You’re struck with a surge of delight as your hand skates over his hot flesh and coarse hair. A hedonic sense of imminent victory unfurls in your core. 
“No underwear?” you tut back at him. 
“Nope,” you swear he winked at you as he said it. 
He pulls you up to stand, stripping the rest of both of your clothes off quickly. You push him back a step to get a better look at his now fully naked form. 
“Shit.” “Fuck.”
You mutter over each other at the same time. Like you’ve been compelled, you reach for him, needing to immediately taste and touch him everywhere. You knew he was a gem in that dive bar, but in front of you in your bedroom, you realize: he’s fucking gorgeous. 
Of course, he won’t allow you to touch him. Nasty man with his beautiful body and devilish disposition. He scoops you up like the petulant child you are about to become and drops you onto your back in the middle of your bed with ease. You bounce against the mattress. 
He catches the sour pout on your face as he settles himself between your legs. 
“No need to think now, princesa,” he kisses just inside your left knee, “that’s my job now.” His mustache tickles the soft skin of your inner thighs, but it’s the spark in his dark eyes that makes you squirm. You groan in frustration at being deprived of the freedom to touch him once again, but you remain malleable. 
“I need you to lay back and spread these legs for me.” 
You comply. Parting your legs wider as his hands slide towards your center. Your eyes are locked on his, and his eyes are locked on your glistening folds in front of his face. 
“Fuck, cariño, yes, just like that.” 
You curse your body for needing to blink. Enraptured with the look on his face, you don’t want to see anything else. Floating and lightheaded, nobody has ever seen you like this. Seen the truth in your eyes so easily. Seen your blaring evidence of need pooling and dripping. And still looked at you the way he does. Desperate to be touched, you are grounded in the present. No other conscious thoughts. More. 
He pulls at the skin on the top of your thighs, nowhere near close enough for your liking, but fully exposing your achy clit and fluttering entrance to his eyes. You’ve needed his touch since you left the bar, or maybe since you first felt his husky voice frazzle your brain. 
He stares and stares as you watch impatiently. 
“Such a gorgeous pussy,” he says to himself before he hovers closer and blows a stream of cool air over your swollen folds. 
You could slap him for that or scream, but what comes out is a breathy “fuck,” and you clench your fists in an attempt to remain composed through this macabre sexual torture. You feel like he’s been down there for an eternity. And still, he’s given you no relief. 
You brace for another stream of air, but instead, you watch agape as a glob of spit falls in slow motion from his lips to your clit. The barely there sensation snaps something in your mind as his saliva flows downward. 
“You just gonna look, or you gonna touch any time soon?” you goad. 
Javi’s eyes shoot to yours, narrowed. You’ve interrupted a private conversation. Vague and meaningless threats start flowing from your mouth, and you shift to reach for him when an abrupt slap to your pussy jolts your nervous system. 
Before your brain and mouth can comment on his audacity, your body betrays you. You feel the patchy flush on your chest burning and the gush of lubrication in anticipation. He clocks both signs. 
“Cariño,” he coos at you darkly. “I told you,” head shaking with disappointment, “no need to think.” He looks back down, “Now look, she’s crying for me, and I haven’t even had a taste yet.” 
Your head sinks into your pillows with an exasperated sigh. How can torture feel exquisite? Wretched man. 
“No. You don’t take your eyes off me,” the edge in his tone suggests you don’t want to disobey. 
You find the strength to tilt your head back towards him. And it’s just in time to watch as he runs two fingers up and down your glossy folds. He ghosts around your clit, avoiding what you need most until he’s satisfied with his coated fingers. He plunges them both into your eagerly awaiting hole, petting at your velvety walls. An animalistic noise that must come from you fills the room in competition with the slick, wet sounds of his fingers. 
“That’s right. Keep those pretty eyes on me while I play with your pussy.” Javi looks down to watch for himself. “You look so good swallowing my fingers,” he rasps thickly. Your walls clench and constrict around his fingers as his voice carves out a home in your mind. 
Your room is cool, thanks to the hum of your window AC unit, but your body runs hot. You’ve never had a man in your bed who was this good with his words before. It forces you to stay focused. Present and aware of every sensation. Your ex was too insecure to be vocal. Other partners lacked tact or creativity. None of them ever took charge like this or took their time. You feel your chest heaving and see the wide smile break across his face. Your skin tingles as a sheen of sweat breaks out.
Javi takes his time experimenting with the ways your body responds. He speeds up and slows down, changes pressure and patterns, tapping and tracing, petting and prodding. It’s like the nine extra settings you don’t need your vibrator to have, but better. It’s not careless. You watch, like he instructed. He seems studious, observing how you respond, scanning your face and body. Microexpressions on his face calculating and plotting. 
You flex, tense, and writhe as much as you dare, trying to maintain some control over your body. Your eyebrows are pinched, and your hips are tight as you strain. 
Javier can tell. Do you not trust him? He needs you to give in to him. 
“Let me take you there, cariño,” he urges. “Can feel she wants it; just relax for me, breathe.” 
“Fuck,” you confirm with a whisper and do your best to let go of some of the rigid tension. He maintains a steady rhythm for you to focus on. He slowly builds in intensity, and he continues to murmur encouragement to you. Breathe. There you go. Easy. 
You slowly melt into it and let him puppet your mind and body. Building and building. Breathing and breathing. Allowed to be out of control. That does it. Your climax crashes violently against your loose frame. Yes, cariño, just like that, fuck. Contracting muscles in your core pull your chest forward. Jerking and spasming, you raise with stuttering gasps. You aren’t sure if you should laugh or be embarrassed as you pant, feeling like he just performed an exorcism on you. His expression settles you. Pleased with an edge of ravenous. 
He slides his fingers from you and sits up, looming tall and strong on his knees over your damp, limp body. Your eyes are glued to his weeping cock, softly bobbing at your eye level. Saliva pools in your mouth, craving the weight of it sliding over your tongue. You swallow and blink. Recalibrating your senses and figuring out what he just said to you. 
He runs his fingers back through your overly sensitive folds to get your attention. Your entire body twitches, wrenching your attention to his face. He already has you at his mercy. 
“Close your mouth, baby,” he commands. You weren’t aware it had been hanging open and snap it shut. He laughs gently at your stupor. Enamored. Then he’s running his slick coated fingers over your lips like a debauched lipgloss. Your mouth parts to question him, and he slides them onto your tongue before a word gets out. 
“Good,” he praises, “suck.” You do. And as he drags his fingers out he replaces them with his tongue. He sucks and nips at your lips, tasting everything. The bright flavor of your arousal, the lingering beer from the bar, the smoky tobacco, and the gum you tried to sneak on your way out of the bar. It’s a potent concoction, and it fuels his thirst. You run your tongue along his neck and commit the flavor of his sweat-salted skin to memory. 
You can feel the rumbly groans filling his chest, and you’re back to needing more. Clawing at his skin and tugging at his hair. One of your soft hands finds his throbbing cock, and wrapping your fingers around it causes you to exchange throaty moans. You slip your thumb around the head, coating it in precome and using it to glide your full fist down his shaft. It’s stupid how big his cock is, and part of you is loathe to admit it. You just know he’s already aware, but a mindless so big slips out of your mouth anyway. You feel him smile against you. 
“Y’think so?” he breathes against your neck. 
You roll your eyes at him and tease, “Don’t be trite, Javi.” You tug firmly at his length. “I’m sure all the ladies you pick up in shitty dive bars fawn over your pretty cock.” 
A distant look flickers across his face before he flashes a sly grin at you. 
“Y’think it’s pretty?” Is that all he heard? 
“Oh my god,” you groan in feigned annoyance at him. 
He looks down to watch your hand stroke him and decides that is a pretty sight. 
You hope he was right in the cab of his truck. That when he fills you up, you’ll forget how to think. He pulls back from your greedy little grasp. I know, I know. He says with the marks he leaves along your skin. 
“You think she’s ready for me?” he asks as he adjusts to line up with you. You’re too entranced to respond. He slides himself through your folds, and you whimper at the pressure. He’s still waiting for an answer. He pauses and stares at your face. He gives your clit a playful swat with the weight of his cock. 
You blink back up to him, “huh?” 
“You think she’s ready to take me?” he repeats. 
“Yes, Javi, m’ready.” 
He gives you a disapproving look, for god knows why. And shifts further away from you. You feel your face shift into a pout. 
”I think she can give me a couple more first.” 
Something in you loosens, and you realize you’re defenseless. Willing.
This time, he doesn’t toy with you. He strikes swiftly. Overwhelming your senses when his fingers slide back inside of you and the hot furnace of his mouth envelopes your no longer neglected clit. He brings you over the edge rapidly with the combination of his curling fingers and the firm pressure of the flat of his tongue. 
He praises you adoringly, but he doesn’t let up. That’s it. Dámelo. Breathe. You can take it. Another. Know she wants it. Like that. Taking you further than you thought you could go. Again and again. You’re blind and boneless, a sticky mess. He could watch you like this for hours. Writhing against his fingers as his other arm wraps over your belly, holding you in place. 
“What’d you say?” he asks as you come down from another flood of endorphins. You weren’t aware you could form words. You blink dazedly before you can figure it out. 
“Please, Javi, please,” you repeat. You don’t know what you’re begging for anymore. 
His lips are pressed to your sweaty forehead. When he pulls back, a mischievous grin spreads across his face. You’re trying to think of what you were trying to communicate, but it’s hazy. 
“Doing so good for me, cariño, you deserve it now.” 
You can only nod and whisper another “please.” He slides the head of his cock through your dripping, sensitive folds. That’s what you wanted. More.
“Yes,” you chant, “please, oh god, yes, Javi, please, fuck.” You exercise the full extent of your current vocabulary in quick succession. 
“Beautiful, cariño,” his words drip over you like honey. 
“Yes, Javi, please,” you continue your chant. 
Slowly. Painfully slowly, he begins to feed his cock into you, eyes rapidly flipping between studying the expressions crossing your face and the view of your pussy stretching around him. 
“Oh god, oh,” you repeat mindlessly as he works his way inside of you. 
“Fuck” he exhales and locks his eyes on your face before pushing the rest of the way in. When your eyes widen, and your jaw falls slack, he knows the image will be seared into his memory. 
“Yes, Javi, fuck–” your mantra is cut off with a deep moan as he grinds his hips into yours. You're so full. You run your hands down his back, trying to force him closer. Trying to merge solid bodies into liquid pleasure. Transform physical vessels into the intangible. More.
He begins to slide in and out, never leaving the clutch of your warm walls all the way. His pace steadily increases, along with the intensity of the snap of his hips once he’s as deep as possible inside of you. He folds your knees towards your chest and thrusts with fervor, captivated by the way your tits bounce. 
A cacophony of lewd noises bounces off the walls in your room. Your shared panting, the rocking bedframe, the wet slip of his cock sawing into you, the skin-to-skin slap of his heavy balls bouncing against your ass, it’s all a debased symphony together. 
A delirious giggle pours from you as the realization strikes. He was right, no need to think; all you need is to feel how perfectly he fills you up. He’s not thrown by your fit of laughter. You think he knows. His mouth is moving, though. He’s speaking to you. You focus with all the effort you can muster. 
“Again, cariño. You’re going to come on my cock for me,” he breathes like he’s the one ready to beg. You obey. It takes the slightest touch, swirling your fingers around your sensitive nerves. Watching the tense expression on his face. The weight of his body fucking you into your mattress. You’re clenching around him like you could pull him any deeper.
“Fuck, that’s right,” he drops his mouth to your salty neck, “so well-behaved for me.” 
You preen at that. Breathing each other's air. 
“These legs still work?” he asks, swatting at your thighs. 
“A little,” you shrug. 
“Good.” He sits up, pulling your chest into his, breathing with you for a minute as you wrap your legs around him and settle on his lap. “Not done with you yet,” he growls into your hair. You think about the moment at the bar earlier, when he lit your cigarette for you. You hoped he’d be good. You didn’t think he’d be this good. 
“Yes, Javi,” you agree as if you know what’s next. He shifts, and you let him arrange your body as he pleases. It’s blissful. Not having to think. He maneuvers you like a doll, but you know you aren’t an object to him. Not with the way he gently rolls you onto your belly, arranging a pillow under your head. You rest your cheek against it and peer dreamily at him. He lifts your hips, propping you up on your knees, and pauses for a second to admire the way your pussy glistens readily for him. The way your smooth back arches in presentation just for him. But it’s the expression on your face, the insatiable more in your eyes, that gives him purpose. 
He kneels behind you and sinks in easily, a groan ripping through his throat as you push your hips back into him with more energy than he expected. You moan loudly in response, attempting to muffle it into the pillow. 
“Oh my god, Javi,” you rasp at him. “How can you possibly get any deeper?” you ask incredulously. 
“How are you still talking, cariño?” he taunts, picking up an unyielding and brutal pace. 
“M’not” you decide, “no thoughts.” 
“Fuck” you both echo as he hits a new angle. 
“Please, don’t stop,” you beg openly, “just like that, Javi, holy shit.” He slips one hand underneath you to play with your swollen clit. 
“Yes,” you begin chanting again. But you want him to come. You need it. You slide your own hand under his to replace it. Reaching further to feel the way you’re stretched around him. You wish you could see it. The feeling alone turns your brain to mush. 
“Javi?” you plead for his attention. You could sob with the intensity building in your core. 
“Yes?” he asks without slowing down. 
“Need you to come,” you whine into the pillow your face rocks into. 
“Yes, cariño,” he consents. 
“No, now. I need you to fill me up, please; I need to feel it,” you beg like you were invented for him in a dream. So perfect. 
“I know,” he asserts, “gonna stuff you full,” and that sends you. 
“Fuck, Javi, yes, I need it,” you sob out as your muscles flex and contract around him once more. 
He grips your spineless frame and tugs your back into his chest. You might be drooling as your head rolls into his shoulder. You register a hand squeezing at your tits as he gives you what you want. A few more harsh thrusts and he’s filling you up. You can feel his cock flexing and straining to give you everything he’s got. Javier’s rough breaths reverberate through your blissfully quiet mind. It’s enough. 
He lowers you back to your pillow, still on your knees, and he slides out of you with a soft groan. You echo it, feeling immediately emptier without him.
You stretch across the bed to fish for your cigarettes in your pile of discarded belongings from earlier or maybe a lifetime ago. 
He accepts one when you offer and, in turn, offers you the water he asked for earlier. You gratefully accept. You ask if the water trick works on all the women he picks up in dive bars. He argues that it’s not really a trick if the sex happens before you drink it, and you share a real belly laugh at that, realizing he’s right. You finish your cigarettes in a calm silence next to each other. Your mind is quiet. You let out a satisfied little sigh. 
He gets up and starts pulling on his jeans. Reality hits you like a brick smashing into your skull. Leaving blood and bone fragments across your pillow. Substances and sex are temporary. Distractions, not solutions. A fleeting release to quell your demons. The ones that reappear back on your shoulders, cackling with glee over the chaos. Your mind is back in action racing. You drag your hands down your face. Holding your eyes shut tightly. You wait, holding your breath. Listening for the sound of your front door opening and closing any second. 
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yoonieper · 1 month
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For the Birds— Part 4 | JJK
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I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.
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♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (feat. Yuri) 
♡ Genre: angst, smut, future fluff!
♡ Rated: R for Regret
♡ Series Warnings: Lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation!
♡ Chapter Warnings: panic attack, lots of bad self-deprecating thoughts, repressed Jungkook makes an appearance once again, masturbation (m + f), use protection (!!!), public sex, oral (m + f receiving), koo is a bj virgin, fingering, unprotected sex (be smart!)
♡ Word Count: 37.9k
♡ Summary: As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.
♡ Now Playing: Liquor by Chris Brown— see masterlist for playlist! 
♡ Betas: Thank you so much to @illyrian-book-lover and @mellowladyanchor for reading this part for me! If you’re interested in betaing a future part, dm me! If you're interested in becoming a permanent beta for this series please first click here and refer to 'details about the job' section for more details and dm for any questions you might have! Betas get early access to chapters, so if you're free to help out and can't wait for next chapter, consider joining the team!!!
♡ Author’s Note: I started this thinking it was going to be one of the shortest chapters but 😀 Hehehehehe anyway, get cozy, get some snacks, maybe something nice and warm to drink as well, and enjoy my friends!
No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much : D
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It was still too early for him; the sun was barely peeking over the skyline. Businesses were just beginning to flip their signs to open, the sounds of the city were growing louder by the minute— only a soft murmur in the restful city background, and daily menus were just now beginning to be set outside for the few passersby who were walking the streets this early morning. 
It was in these initial hours on the first day of November that Min Yoongi arrived at his office. He had an iced Americano firmly grasped in his hand despite the chilly temperature outside. He always preferred the drink in its cooler state, no matter the weather, to quickly wake him up in the morning. It worked enough to get him here, but never as much as he needed it to.
He yawned as the elevator slowly rode up to the floor his office resided on. He still had a few hours before his first appointment, but Yoongi always came early to do menial tasks like office bills or general prep work for appointments. He didn’t have too much to do today, but some important documents he’d been putting off were calling his name.
His eyes lazily drifted over to Secretary Kim’s desk, as they always did, ready to say a brisk “good morning” before heading into his office until the time neared his first appointment.  
Yoongi was so out of it this morning. He and Heran were up all night with their little Bora. They both figured more of her baby teeth were coming in and that’s what’s been making their daughter so fussy these days. Heran especially had been a little worried after their third all-nighter, but Yoongi was quick to notice the little bumps in her gums upon further inspection, indicating she was likely just teething. It had been a rough few nights, last night especially, but eventually he was able to get her to fall asleep in his arms after he let his wife go back to bed.  
He languidly glanced over at Secretary Kim ready to wave, but her wide eyes quickly caught his attention as she discreetly pointed toward the waiting area. He wasn’t expecting anyone this early but lo and behold was the man he hadn’t seen in seven months.
His big, round eyes were instantly recognizable as they stared up at him when he noticed Yoongi standing there. This was certainly unexpected. He definitely didn’t have Jeon Jungkook booked today.
“Mr. Jeon! What a surprise!” Yoongi smiled as he walked over to him. 
Jungkook stood up, and Yoongi took particular interest in the way he shakily shifted his weight from one side to the other. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days and Yoongi could immediately tell something was wrong. 
“Hi— I’m sorry for barging in so suddenly like this…” Yoongi could hear the strain in his voice. 
“No issue at all, my door is always open.” He smiled but Yoongi hoped he got the point. His door was always open, no matter what the issue might be.
“I— I um… I wanted to talk to you— and… I can come back later if you’re busy, but—” Jungkook seemed fidgety and could hardly look at the doctor, the floor seeming to hold his attention more than Yoongi’s concerned gaze. 
Alarm bells were going off in his head. Normally he didn’t take walk-ins like this, but when the circumstances seemed dire, like in today's case, someone’s well-being was always more important than anything else. Something clearly wasn’t right with him, and he still had a few more hours until his first appointment anyway. No harm in this at all.
Yoongi glanced over to his secretary and they both shared the same worried expression before he guided Jungkook toward the door to his office. 
It had been seven months since he’d seen him, but Yoongi could instantly tell Jungkook seemed different. As he turned on the lights in his office that fact became more clear. Since the time that they had last seen each other, Jungkook evidently looked more tired, the dark circles around his eyes were prominent, but he did a good job of hiding it in the way his hair had grown to hang lowly over his eyes. Yoongi also thought he seemed paler, like he hadn’t seen the sun in weeks, and he could have sworn his round face had grown more gaunt as well. 
Yoongi had hoped that the couple’s absence after their last session meant that good things had come between them. Despite only having one session, he thought that maybe the glaring problems of their relationship had become apparent, and now that they were in the open, they had found themselves on a path to a happy and healthy relationship.
Yoongi wished this meeting had been a reunion of sorts, that Jungkook was coming to visit just to thank him for the session, or to simply catch up, or even just coming to ask for more advice in the long journey of building up their relationship. Any sort of sign, really, to indicate that they were working on the distressing issues in their marriage and that progress had been made in the seven months since they last saw each other.
Unfortunately, Jungkook’s appearance alone was enough to show his optimism had been in vain. And to make matters even more concerning, as soon as Yoongi shut the door behind them, he watched Jungkook haphazardly stumble over and collapse on the couch.
Yoongi hurriedly joined him by his side, his worry soaring to even greater heights seeing Jungkook desperately tangle his fingers through his hair. His grip on the strands was so firm that Yoongi feared he’d pull out the tresses threaded in his grasp. Sitting this close now, he could smell that Jungkook had been drinking, probably excessively too. It wasn’t looking good; time had not been kind to him. If anything, things seemed worse.
His soft whimpers slowly began to fill the growing silence. 
“Jungkook…?” Yoongi asked gently as he placed a hand on his back. 
“I’m s—sorry… so sorry. I should have called befo—before I came, I’m so sorry.” If it wasn’t already evident in his voice, Yoongi could see his hands in his hair were shaking.
“Like I said before, my door is always open. Did something happen?” Yoongi was trying to be calm, but the memories of their last session came flooding back in a rush and his mind raced with the possibilities of what had made him so frantic.
The question just seemed to make things worse, and like in their last session, Yoongi feared Jungkook was on the verge of another panic attack. Jungkook’s sobs became louder and his breathing grew more shallow with each breath he took.  
“Deep breaths, take your time,” Yoongi reassured, gently rubbing circles on his back. Jungkook quickly seemed to listen and tried his best to focus on the doctor’s words.
“Yuri— I—” Jungkook finally released the death grip on his hair and leaned back on the couch, letting his tears flow down his cheeks. 
“I cheated on my wife last night.” It was like he had practiced saying this with how clear it was despite the shakiness in his voice. The statement seemed to linger in the air as Yoongi processed his words. He tried not to show his immediate shock at the statement. From what he could remember from the last time he spoke with Jungkook, this was a pretty big deal, which could explain the distress. 
“I wish I was coming here to— to tell you how bad I felt about doing it, but—” Jungkook’s lip started to quiver. “I was up all night and I couldn’t stop thinking about it— I should feel bad, I want to feel bad, but…” More tears rolled down his cheeks.
“It just felt so good.” 
The confession made it all too real as he looked at the doctor. It made him feel even more like a monster.
Jungkook had spent the night trying to make himself feel bad about his time with you. He’d wandered around the apartment looking at all the pictures littered on the tables and walls of him and Yuri, hoping that would spark fond feelings of their relationship. 
If someone visiting their apartment saw the plethora of photos they have sprinkled around the place, it would seem like the couple shared many memories together. But just like their entire relationship, it was merely an illusion. 
When they first moved in Yuri had taken on the majority of the work decorating their apartment. She had an eye for interior design. Aside from modeling, she was quite passionate and knowledgeable about the subject— it’s what she originally went to school for before she was scouted and modeling became her main priority. 
The place mainly reflected her taste, but she’d ask Jungkook his opinions occasionally on some of her ideas, and he was pretty easy-going, so he just let her have her fun. He also knew how much she enjoyed it, it was one of the things he’d learned on their honeymoon when she confessed her ambition to open her own business someday. It was important to her, and it honestly warmed his heart to see how passionate she was decorating their new home together.
Right before they officially moved in, Yuri had signed them up for a bunch of photo shoots to help fill in the relatively empty picture frames around the apartment. The only memories they had were of their wedding, honeymoon, and a couple of pictures from their dates before they were engaged. Memories, yes, but certainly not enough for a couple who decided to take a leap of faith and get married so young. 
Professional photoshoots with the photographer she shot with regularly were a weekly occurrence for about a month. Jungkook had cherished this time since he was still trying to process how uncomfortable things had become after they came back from their honeymoon. That was really the only time they would speak to each other and things weren’t awkward. 
Jungkook had hoped that just being in the apartment would remind him of his marriage and ignite the shame that he had just committed a horrible sin, one that could have gotten him killed a couple of centuries ago. And yet, as Jungkook stood there trying to reminisce about all of their fond memories, he was also trying his best to ignore the way his length pleaded for you all over again.
Pathetic… more than that really.
He’d finally grabbed a beer out of the fridge at some point, hoping at the very least he could stop thinking about you and maybe try and get some sleep before he needed to go to work in the morning. The beer didn’t help, it never did. Rather it made his guilt, or his lack thereof, echo even louder. 
Jungkook had looked to Dr. Min with the hope that he would be a voice of reason, a slap to the face to make him feel the mortification he should right now. 
Jungkook stared at the doctor, just waiting for the look of disgust he was hoping for. He wanted someone to tell him how insane he sounded, how much of a terrible person he was for it. Instead, he couldn’t read the look on the doctor’s face as the words started to process in his mind. It made him that much more anxious. He wanted an immediate reaction, he wanted Dr. Min to scream at him if he had to, but instead, he just looked off in the distance as he never once stopped his gentle massage across his back.
“What makes you say that?” Dr. Min finally asked after the silence started to linger for a little too long.
“I didn’t know— know it could feel that good.” Jungkook’s body instantly reacted to the mention of last night— this morning really. It hadn’t been that long. It was all so clear and got even more so the more he tried not to think about it.
“And what makes you say that?” Dr. Min repeated with a gentle smile on his face.
Jungkook was being vague. Yoongi had a feeling this was a common occurrence, but those details truly mattered right now. 
“You don’t have to get explicit, it's just— If I’m recounting correctly, I know the last time we spoke you mentioned that you didn’t have much experience besides Yuri. What was it like then, stepping outside of your relationship?” Yoongi clarified, noticing Jungkook seemed a little confused. 
Jungkook turned away as his mind traveled back to early this morning… you, your lips, your hands, your skirt bunched around your waist. 
“She touched me.” The words just slipped out of his mouth without much thought. “No one ever did that before.” At least the way you had. As delusional as it was, for a split second he felt wanted, like someone actually craved him as badly as he did for them. It was nonsense, Jungkook just happened to be blessed that night by your unwavering kindness even to someone as pathetic as him in a moment of weakness. But still, he knew something felt different about last night.  
Yoongi hummed, remembering that the topic had come up in their session. 
“To be honest… Now that I think about it, I never really enjoyed it that much beforehand.” Jungkook stared off into the distance, coming to a revelation that he was aware of but never fully articulated until now.
“Sex?” Yoongi put it bluntly, making Jungkook’s face flush slightly.
He shyly nodded.
“I thought I did. I liked it when she just acknowledged my existence, it would make my day. I wanted anything from her really, but I think when it came to being intimate it just made me feel…” A word bounced around in his head, a sour word he knew spoke true to his feelings whenever he was with Yuri, yet it never materialized enough to explain to the doctor. After a while Jungkook just sighed and gave up, deciding to continue. “I think I just wanted her close. I wanted Yuri to want me, and I feel like that’s when I felt it the most. I craved it so much that I bet I seemed pathetic, but even then, I don’t think I really enjoyed it— not in the same way at least.” Jungkook struggled to fully articulate what he was trying to say, and just hoped Dr. Min could get the picture.
Yuri never touched him like that. She hardly touched him at all. Jungkook had always craved affection, but he’d never known how much he would truly enjoy it until now.
“I’m hopeless, aren’t I…?” This would normally have been a moment he would have tried to laugh at, but his heart hurt so much, he went back to crying. 
Why didn’t he feel guilty?
“Jungkook, look… Can I be honest with you for a second?” Yoongi eventually said. He seemed serious. 
Jungkook looked over at the doctor, ready for the slap to the face he came for. 
“I’m trying to look at this situation as objectively as I can. It’s been a while since we talked and I never really got Yuri’s side when I wanted to speak to you both one-on-one. As much as I probably shouldn’t, I think this is a situation where I need to take my therapist hat off and approach this like I’m just your friend giving you my two cents. Can I do that?” Yoongi asked before he continued. 
Jungkook steadily nodded.
Yoongi took a deep breath and one good look at Jungkook before continuing. “You don’t look good.” His words were blunt, but he had a look of genuine concern on his face. 
Jungkook’s eyes widened, not at all expecting that to be what he was going to say.
“You look like shit if I’m being honest.” Yoongi reiterated, wanting to be even more straightforward. As hurtful as it might sound, it was the truth. He didn’t even know Jungkook that well and he could clearly see the last few months had not been kind to him. It might have been different if he had no inclination as to why that might be the case, but considering what they’ve discussed so far, plus the fact that he’d briefly met his wife, he already knew a problem he could help advise on. Hopefully a bit of no-nonsense advice might set him on the right path. 
“I’ve seen all types of couples come in through those doors, and many more before I got my own office. I’ve helped couples rekindle their relationships that were in horrendous conditions.  Some were just minor issues that they needed help mediating and talking through. Others… I’ll be honest and say I’m surprised they even worked out. No relationship is perfect, but as long as there’s love, there’s hope. You and Yuri are a special case. You both never had those feelings at any point of your relationship that I could help remind you of.” 
Yoongi had spent some time after Jungkook’s last session contemplating the best advice he could give to a couple who had never properly loved each other. Helping them was basically asking them to build a relationship from scratch, a mission Jungkook seemed dead set on doing, and it might have been possible if their relationship didn’t hold such animosity. 
The way Yuri acted in the one session he met her in was honestly unacceptable. Her words were said out of spite, not out of hurt, or even in hopes of betterment— she just wanted to make it hurt as much as possible. Hostile relationships weren’t a foreign subject to him, but it was clear by Jungkook’s panic attack that what he saw probably didn’t even scratch the surface of their relationship behind closed doors.
Yoongi would help anyone who came through his doors, but when he suspected someone was causing more harm than good, and not even trying to make things work, there was little he could do. Being even more honest with himself, he didn’t want to help them. Toxic relationships aren’t good for anyone’s well-being, and it went against the very reason he became a therapist to encourage Jungkook to “stick it out” and hope things get better. 
This wasn’t even just toxic… 
Jungkook looked like he got hit by a bus, and then it backed up, ran over him again, backed up, and just kept repeating the cycle to make sure they got him. He did not look good, and although he didn’t know Jungkook all that well and there could be many things in his life that might be causing his mental break, he could never forget his face as Yuri spewed those harsh words at him.
What he did know was that she certainly wasn’t helping.
“You and Yuri… I don’t think your relationship is healthy to continue— not now at the very least. I think you need some time to regain your footing before even entertaining the idea of having healthy discussions about your relationship. I never thought I’d say this, but I think the affair could be a good thing for you in some way. Hopefully it might get you to think more about your relationship with your wife and could aid in the overall discussion on whether it should continue.” It was certainly strange hearing that out of the doctor’s mouth. Never in a million years did Jungkook expect that when he came over.
“The fact that you’re telling me you didn’t really enjoy sex in general until last night, that you only wanted it as a way to get close to Yuri… I mean, I hope you know that’s not good.” Yoongi laid it out plainly, hoping he would see the issue. 
Jungkook stared down at the ground, seemingly lost in thought. “But it’s all my fault…” 
“Jungkook—”
“It’s my fault, everything is. If I was better— fuck, and here I am cheating on her— I— I—” The tears started spilling past his eyes, and Yoongi could tell Jungkook was seconds away from a breakdown. 
His hands quickly tangled in his hair, but even with the dark locks in the way Yoongi could still see the way they shook. His breathing grew more shallow, and it was obvious he wasn’t listening to him anymore.
Yoongi quickly leaned over and wrapped an arm around him.
“Take deep breaths for me.” Yoongi softly instructed, but things got worse before they got better. 
He wasn’t entirely surprised this was happening, Jungkook seemed off since the moment he first said hello. Things had since escalated, but he feared this attack had started long before he stepped back into his office.
Jungkook seemed panicked realizing that this was happening again. He was almost hyperventilating at this point, but Yoongi was there just like the last time. Jungkook looked at him for help with tears in his eyes and Yoongi made sure he held his gaze as he started taking calm, deep breaths, hoping Jungkook would mirror him.
It was bad, really bad actually. Yoongi was starting to worry Jungkook might pass out, but eventually he was able to catch his breath enough so he could participate in the breathing exercises. 
“I’m— I’m so sorry— I’m so—so sorry!” Yoongi was shocked Jungkook was able to talk at all, but unsurprised that he was back to apologizing for something he didn’t need too. 
This, this is exactly why Yoongi truly believed their relationship was beyond saving at this point. This wasn’t just a rough patch, and even the word toxic didn’t feel like it was enough either. Abuse— emotional abuse— Jungkook was showing similar symptoms to those he’s treated who came from situations where their partner was verbally abusive, degrading them every day to the point they saw little value in themselves anymore. But this was a huge accusation, one Yoongi didn’t want to share with Jungkook just yet. He didn’t know Yuri or the situation enough to throw that term at her, but Yoongi just knew this relationship was not good for Jungkook in the slightest.
He eventually managed to calm Jungkook down enough to repeat the phrase he told him last time while he went to get him some water.
“It’s okay not to be okay.” Cleverly handpicked from the title of the popular Netflix show many of his patients were familiar with. 
Jungkook had calmed down for the most part. They both sat in silence— Jungkook’s soft whines occasionally filled the space along with the crinkling of the water bottle he held tightly in his grasp. It honestly hurt to watch him like this. It’s not like he knew the guy all that well, but Yoongi was always quick to get attached to anyone he looked after… and something about Jungkook reminded him of a stray puppy he found on the street. It was sick and injured, and Yoongi wanted nothing more than to take it home and nurse it back to health. Now, Jungkook wasn’t a stray puppy by any means, but from the meetings they shared he held the same innocence and fragility you might look at a puppy with. He was so broken, young, and had so much going for him still.
It wasn’t even Jungkook’s fault that he ended up in this situation, a crazy expectation was placed on him at a young age in a world that seemed so foreign to the doctor. Yoongi might not understand it, but he couldn’t just sit back and watch Jungkook essentially give up and spiral further and further into a hole he might not eventually be able to pull himself out of.
“You don’t have to answer this if you’re not comfortable; I’m just curious… Who was it with?” The question seemed to linger in the air for a long time. At first, Yoongi thought Jungkook just wasn’t in a talking mood anymore, or maybe he needed to clarify, but eventually he answered.
“She works at Golden Tech… we stayed late last night working on things and…” Jungkook trailed off, letting the silence speak louder than he could.
Yoongi nodded his head, getting the picture. “Was it just a spur of the moment thing or…?” he continued.
Jungkook was quiet for a little while, but eventually, he shook his head as a few tears trickled down his cheeks.
“No… yes… maybe…? I had been thinking about her for a while and… it had been so long since Yuri and I… you know…? We had a fight that morning because of it and… I don’t know, I think I had a breakdown. She was there for me and so warm and—” Jungkook had to stop himself abruptly knowing how strange that sounded. It made him think back to his time with you in his office. His face flushed at the recollection, and Yoongi smiled at him.
“It’s alright. She sounds nice if she was there for you like that. How long have you thought about this?” 
“It’s been years— probably since she started working at the company.” Jungkook felt himself getting choked up at the shame of it all. “It got worse as time went on and I saw more of her— it’s one of the reasons I booked Yuri and I for therapy back then— she was in my head too much.”  
Interesting.
“Do you have feelings for her?” Another blunt question from the doctor that Jungkook was certainly unprepared for. What he said was so off the wall that it warranted a spit-take like he was in some sitcom. He was left completely unable to process the words that spilled from Dr. Min’s mouth. The question honestly warranted an even more dramatic response. 
“W-What?!” Jungkook stared at the doctor.
“You heard me.” Yoongi was both joking and incredibly serious. Feelings would change the whole story.
“It’s not like that,” Jungkook stated confidently. “I was just desperate, and I’m very married. It was just a mistake, a fluke.” He echoed your words from last night. You were right after all.
“A fluke? But didn’t you come in here saying you couldn’t stop thinking about it?” Yoongi pointed out.
Jungkook suddenly got very quiet.
“Okay Jungkook, I’m going to need you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say— you can do that, right?” Yoongi put his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder to get him to look him in the eye. He hated eye contact, it just made him flustered, but he would do anything to ensure Jungkook was paying attention.
“In all my years as a couples therapist I never thought I’d say this, but I think taking some time apart from Yuri to go out and live your own life might be the best option to go from here. I think you’re not in the right headspace yet to have a productive conversation with her about the issues in your relationship— I think you could use some time apart to clear your head and get your thoughts in order.”
Blunt, the doctor wasn’t beating around the bush at all.
“You need to take some time for yourself and make sure you’re okay before prioritizing your relationship. You’re still so young, you got married really young— I feel like it’s hard to even have those conversations with Yuri when you might not even be sure what you want in the first place. That’s not your fault, but you deserve to take some time for yourself to figure it out.” 
Yoongi was still working on how to navigate his own marriage and he specialized in the field. Managing a relationship with the newly added challenge of parenthood was a territory he’d only covered with clients in the past, but experiencing it personally was a completely different story. Even he was still learning to deal with the big change in him and his wife’s life. He couldn’t imagine going through all the challenges of marriage when he was twenty-six, let alone twenty-two. That certainly would have spelled disaster. 
“I think these issues run deeper than what I could help you with in couples therapy, and honestly Jungkook, I recommend taking some time to evaluate if your relationship is something you want to continue. I don’t know what happens behind closed doors, so I don’t want to overstep, but I’m seeing a lot of red flags in the way Yuri treats you. No relationship should have you feeling like this, and at the very least, I think some time apart will help you get some perspective and communicate this to her.” 
Jungkook continued to stare at him with wide eyes, and Yoongi just hoped he was listening.
“Removing yourself entirely I think should be the first step— focusing on yourself, doing the things you like, and spending time with people who make you feel happy and appreciated would be good for you. It would hopefully help get you back on your feet. However, I know this situation is still complicated.” 
“You should tell Yuri what happened last night, your feelings about it, why it happened, etcetera… I know it will be hard, and I can’t tell you what her reaction to this might be, but it’s in the past now, and honesty is the least you can offer her at this point.” Despite his mixed feelings toward Yuri, he still didn’t condone cheating. He’d been on the other side of that story before, and going behind someone’s back and lying might honestly be worse than the act itself.   
“It will give her the chance to make her own decision about the future of your relationship. If she doesn’t end things right then and there and doesn’t mention it already, you should say that you need a little space. You can say this was my idea if you have to. But for your sake Jungkook, and for the sake of your relationship, I think you should take a step back so you can have the opportunity to learn and explore exactly what you want moving forward.” This seemed like the only path Jungkook could take at this point. He didn’t know how Yuri would react to this considering they never truly had a relationship, but if she still wanted to work things out, Jungkook needed some time away from her to hopefully give him a chance to be in a better mental state. Then maybe they could have a proper conversation about the future of their relationship.   
Yoongi had only turned away for a second during his closing statement, but it was enough that when he looked back, Jungkook’s eyes had fluttered closed, and he looked like he was about three seconds away from dozing off. 
“Jungkook, did you hear me?” Yoongi shook him lightly, making Jungkook jolt awake.
“Yes— sorry! Sorry, sorry— fuck, I’m so sorry!” Jungkook was apologizing once again, and Yoongi already felt bad. 
“I just, sorry— I hardly slept last night or the night before… I’m running on three hours of sleep from two days ago.” Jungkook tried to laugh it off as he rubbed his tired eyes, but having this moment of calm after everything that’s happened was enough for the need to sleep to overwhelm him. 
Yoongi softly rubbed his back again. “You know that’s not good, right?”
“I know, and I have this big meeting later— I’m doomed.” In that instant, the haziness of sleep had clouded his brain. He couldn’t think straight, and he had to present at the meeting later along with you… Jungkook didn’t notice Yoongi’s concerned gaze as he tried to wake himself up. 
“You did hear me earlier, right?” Yoongi asked again.
“I did…” He wasn’t lying. His eyes might have closed at some point, but he was taking in every word the entire time.
“What will you do next then?”
“I don’t know.” It was a lot. Too much was happening and he was too tired to really think about what he should do right now.
Yoongi nodded. “It’s a lot, I understand. I just want to make sure you’ll think about what I said.”
Jungkook looked over and Yoongi could see how quickly his eyes had grown red.  He looked like he could pass out at any moment. 
“I will.”
Yoongi watched Jungkook rub his eyes before he tried to open them up. It looked like it was taking everything in him to keep them open. “Jungkook, maybe you should take a nap before you head out again.” Yoongi suddenly said.
Jungkook blinked a couple of times before turning toward the doctor. “Huh?”
“You can sleep on the couch. I don’t have my first appointment till 12:30, so you can stay here until then.” It was a generous offer, and one he wouldn’t normally make, but he felt it was necessary given Jungkook’s condition. 
“That’s really nice of you, but I have work I need to—” 
“Mmm, you don’t think your work will be affected if you haven’t slept right in the last 48 hours?” Yoongi interrupted. 
Jungkook was about to say something, but the more he thought about it and his eyes continued to sting, the more he knew the doctor was right. Truth be told, Jungkook doesn't sleep much these days anyway. He was busy as it was, but almost any time he got in bed, his head would be swimming with so many thoughts it took forever to fall asleep. However, even then, these last two days had definitely taken a toll on him. If it was any other day, he would have insisted he needed to get back to work, but really, he just had to be there for the meeting later; any other work could be handled at a different point if need be. The doctor was right as well— how could he get anything done like this? Even walking seemed like an impossible task.
“You’d really let me stay?” Jungkook’s voice was soft, but Yoongi noticed he sounded surprised.
“Of course. Rest up.” Yoongi gave him a slight smile before standing up. “I’ll just be over at my desk doing a little work. I won’t be loud.” 
Jungkook stared up at Dr. Min with tears in his eyes. He could hardly believe anyone was being this nice to him, let alone after he admitted to cheating on his wife. The doctor didn’t notice, or if he did, he didn’t say anything as he moved over to his desk.
Jungkook quickly whipped out his phone, and after a bit of scrolling, found the person he needed to call. All it took was a few rings for him to answer.
“Hyung…” Jungkook was groggy and hoarse from all the crying. Just the thought of sleep alone was enough to wear him down even more.
“Jungkook? Where are you?” Jimin’s concerned voice was heard on the other end.
“Doesn’t matter— just… I wanted to tell you to let everyone know who might be looking for me, that I’m going to be a little late today.” 
“Late? What about the meeting later?” Jimin exclaimed, a little baffled. Of all the days to be late…
“I’ll be there. If Y/n asks—” There it was, the person he tried not to think about at all.
Jimin noticed the pause. “Jungkook?”
“Uh, if Y/n asks where I am, tell her I’ll be there an hour beforehand so we can do our final preparations.” Seeing you again… he was really not looking forward to seeing you again.
“Jungkook…”
He rubbed his sleepy eyes, but nothing he did made them any easier to keep open. “Yes?”
“What’s going on? Why are you going to be late?” Jimin was concerned. Despite the awkwardness that had settled between the pair, Jimin never once stopped worrying about him.
“I just— I didn’t get much sleep last night.” It wasn’t a lie necessarily, but he definitely wasn’t going to tell him the whole truth. He couldn’t tell Jimin just how awful he had become.
There was silence over the line for a little while. Maybe Jimin was expecting Jungkook to continue and elaborate further, but then realized that was all the information he was going to get out of him.
“I see… sleep well then, and try to get here as soon as you can. Things have been pretty hectic today.” Jimin pointed out.
Jungkook lazily chuckled. “They’re hectic everyday these days.” Q4s were always so busy.
Jimin laughed as well. “Alright, see you later then.”
“Bye, hyung.” And with that, Jungkook clicked off the call. 
He didn’t notice, but a warm smile had settled on Yoongi’s face. He didn’t have to know who he called, he could tell they were close.
“You seriously don’t mind me staying here? I’ve been told I snore…” Jungkook’s face flushed at the mention of it. Yuri would sometimes kick him awake if he got too loud.
“Sleep!” Yoongi called out as he started looking through his computer. 
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jungkook sheepishly take off his shoes before grabbing the blanket draped over the couch. He laid down, and it probably wasn’t even two minutes later that Yoongi knew he’d actually fallen asleep. He lightly chuckled to himself before getting started on the work he set out to do. It wasn’t much, but he did come early just to make sure he got it done so he wouldn’t get home too late.
To be honest, Yoongi hardly noticed Jungkook was even there at all. It just felt like the times he’d be working at home and Heran would be passed out on the couch with their daughter sleeping in her arms. But Jungkook wasn’t lying earlier; he did snore. It wasn’t anything too obnoxious, but occasionally Yoongi was reminded someone was in fact in the room with him. Even then, he hardly noticed— again, it was just like home.
Cute. 
Jungkook was truly out cold. Last night was overwhelming. First, the whole situation with you sent him spiraling, and then his quest to make himself feel bad about it proved to be a harder task than it should have been. 
No matter what good memory he recounted of him and Yuri last night, the thought of you on his desk was like a massive tidal wave that washed any attempts he made to remember his wife back to sea. In truth, he spent more of the night trying not to give into temptation than the thought of any guilt about his actions. He'd already betrayed Yuri enough; relieving the ache for some reason that was a line he couldn’t cross. 
These thoughts created a horrible cycle in his mind of “you just cheated on your wife” to then “but it just felt so good” to “but you know how disappointed Yuri would be if you do that” to “but it felt so fucking good” to “you’re an actual piece of shit, you deserve feeling like this.” It had his head spinning. 
He was tired and tried downing a beer so he could quickly pass out and he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. But then Yuri came home— 5:35am on the dot. 
She looked good, so good, even with most of the lights off. Yuri had changed from her off-the-shoulder, black, sweater dress into something more relaxing— a cozy black hoodie and gray sweatpants. Yuri was also carrying the tote she used for short excursions that weren’t overnight, but far enough to come back at a time like this— she had to go to and from Busan today. She must have been so tired, and he’d spent the night cheating on her.
Jungkook had been so out of it. He was drunk, very drunk, and he was so tired, but he just couldn’t fall asleep. Maybe he would have reacted better seeing her, but his whole body felt numb when she noticed he was sitting at the dining table. 
This would have been the time for him to get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness, but instead he just continued to sit there.
Yuri hurriedly walked over and despite how much the room was spinning, he could tell by her footsteps she was mad.
“Jungkook, are you drunk?!” She exclaimed, but the words were hazy in his mind. The question was redundant, all the empty beer bottles on the table would have given her the answer. 
“Yuri… I’msorry.” His words slurred. He bet he looked pathetic. He hasn’t gotten drunk in front of her that often. He never wanted her to see that side of him, or rather, how that other side might act if she did.
The silence lingered in the apartment for a little and maybe if the lights were on, she would have seen his lip quivering before she heard his sobs.
“I’m sorry.” His sad attempt at an apology rang in the air. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, sorry. I’m—”
“What is wrong with you?” She honestly sounded baffled. Through the haziness of it all, he recognized that she likely had no idea what he was talking about.
There were so many things he could be apologizing for, yesterday morning was a great example. Maybe that’s what she thought he was talking about. Or maybe it was the fact that he was drunk. There were just so many things, but cheating on her probably wasn’t where her immediate train of thought went.
“I’m sorry!” He just sobbed out, an apology not for cheating on her necessarily, but because he couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad about it.
Yuri had no idea what was going on, and it was so late. “Get yourself together, please. It’s too late for this and I’m too tired to try and understand you. I’m going to bed and you better figure this out before joining me.” Yuri just sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder once again before walking off toward their bedroom. The fact she even offered to share the bed was astonishing. He deserved less than the couch at this point.
With Yuri here, it made it all too real how badly he had betrayed her. They were meant to be playing the part of a happily married couple, they were meant to be a happily married couple, but he let his own selfish desires get in the way and now that dream was shattered. Why couldn’t he have just waited? All he ever wanted was to be a good husband to her and yet he couldn’t even bring himself to feel bad about the night he shared with you. He’d cheated and still couldn’t stop thinking with his dick for more than two seconds, instead overwhelmed by the way his whole body hadn’t stopped tingling since he helped you off his desk. He never deserved forgiveness. Horrible. He couldn’t go any lower than this. 
He was too drunk to remember when the shaking began, or when it got hard to breathe, but he knew he had to listen to your advice. He needed to talk to someone, now.
Jungkook had looked up when Dr. Min’s office opened, and he was at the door shortly after the secretary got there. She had given him those same sad eyes she did before he left the last time when she saw him stumble into the office.
“Dr. Min will be here shortly…” she had assured him. She could probably see how on edge he was.
To be honest, the whole night was a blur at this point. One minute he was at the dining table, the next he was calling Dae-Jung (who was kind enough to pick him up, despite the early hour and how his words slurred together on the phone), then he was in Dr. Min’s office. It felt like time was passing by without him. 
Jungkook never checked the time to know when he fell asleep, but when he felt the gentle touch of Dr. Min letting him know it was time to get up, he knew he hadn’t slept long enough. Just opening his eyes was a task that seemed too much to overcome. He needed eight hours, probably more at this point. He honestly felt worse after waking up than he did before he fell asleep. He hoped it was just the grogginess needing to wear off, but the sounds of amusement from the doctor he eventually realized was sitting on the table right in front of him, were not the best received.
“You might want to fix your hair.” Yoongi chuckled lightly, seeing the long strands sticking up in different directions.
Cute.
His head hurt, his eyes hurt, and he wanted to go back to sleep so badly. 
It certainly looked that way from Yoongi’s perspective as well. Jungkook had this grumpy look on his face as he steadily tried to sit up, and his eyes just barely fluttered open so he could see they were slightly red.
“Do you feel better?” Yoongi asked, and Jungkook quickly shook his head.
“I’m not surprised. You really need to get more sleep… If you can, you should take the rest of the day off after your meeting. Give yourself the day to try and get yourself back together.” He suggested. “Doctor’s orders.”
The thought was tempting. The main task he had to complete today was the meeting. Everything else, as far as he knew, could be handled later. But he already hadn’t shown up to work this morning, what would everyone think? What might they be saying right now? Just the thought of anyone thinking he was slacking off made the idea seem selfish. 
Jungkook didn’t say anything though, as he tried to muster up any energy he had regained to get up from the couch.
“Oh, and before I forget—” Suddenly Jungkook felt a small piece of paper in his hand. It took a minute for him to realize what it was, but it was similar to the one Yoongi gave him after his last session. 
“Please make sure to visit him this time. I may be a therapist as well, but I think he’d be much better to talk to about your individual needs.” Yoongi was almost pleading. 
Kim Namjoon. Right, he forgot to do that last time. 
“Talk to him please, but if you ever need someone else to just chat with unofficially, you can stop by the office at any time or call me if you need to. You have my work phone, but at the bottom of the note I wrote my personal number.” If Jungkook was a patient, this probably would have been crossing a line, but he hasn’t been an official client since his last session back in April.
This was all unofficial, and it would continue to stay that way until things improved enough that alarm bells wouldn’t go off anytime he saw Jungkook. For some reason, he doubted that would happen anytime soon, at least as long as he was with Yuri. 
Yoongi made Jungkook agree to book an appointment soon, and said he’d check up with Namjoon to make sure he fulfilled his promise. They also promised to talk again soon as Jungkook started fixing himself up before heading out.
He was still slightly hungover, but the water he drank earlier helped ease things a little, so the headache wasn’t as bad as what it could be considering how much he imbibed last night.
It wasn’t long before Jungkook was getting a text from his driver that he was outside. 11:43am— an hour and twenty until the meeting and less than twenty minutes till he promised to meet you. He had to hurry and pray the traffic wasn’t bad, he still had to head home to shower and change….
With a swift goodbye, Jungkook was slinging his suit jacket and coat on before heading downstairs.
•────•──────────•────•
The meeting went okay. It was mainly thanks to you though. You were a great presenter, and things all went relatively how you both had planned. But Jungkook could have done better— he hadn’t even needed to talk much, but maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the hangover, or the massive wall of anxiety he practically slammed into that made things so difficult.
Jungkook had given presentations before, many times actually, and while he was always a little nervous, most of it would go away the minute he got up there and he was able to say what he needed to say to get his point across. For some reason, his anxiety was almost crippling this time. 
Jungkook had hardly thought about the presentation. So much shit had been happening it had almost been an afterthought. But while he was practicing with you, he was not prepared for the jitters he got as time drew nearer for the executives to come in.
It was even worse when it was actually time. He stood up there with you and he couldn’t stop shaking. The eyes of the executives were too much. It felt like that nightmare all over again. It was like they knew what he did, how terrible and incapable he was, and how he deserved how shitty his life had turned out.
Somehow he was able to cover all the points he needed to, but the shakiness in his voice was embarrassing, and he nearly had a breakdown when he saw their confused expressions staring back at him. He felt bad, so bad actually, because he was ruining this for you.
And you… Jungkook didn’t know what to do seeing you again. As soon as he walked into the meeting room, he was filled with disgust, but also wanted nothing more than to pull you close once more. It was horrible. 
You looked so good too, you always did. Your light blue turtleneck was neatly tucked into your white skirt, your signature lipstick was back on display, and your hair was styled nicely as it always was. You were so polished, a completely different look to how he dropped you off last night. And you looked amazing either way in his opinion.
But things were awkward, very awkward as you started your preparations. And to make matters worse, you were mad at him, or at the very least it was obvious you didn’t want to be around him when he finally made it to the meeting room. He saw it for a split second after he walked through the door and you made eye contact. It was a silent moment when you both acknowledged the night before, a moment you both realized that last night had in fact happened— but you were far quicker to move on from it, choosing to stick to the promise made to put the whole thing behind you.
Last night was a mistake, a fluke. It shouldn’t have happened.
The doctor was right that things would be different if feelings were involved, but last night was nothing more than sex. He was horny, sad, and you just happened to be there…. If you both acknowledged it then it would become something, something more than it needed to be. He was married, you were his coworker, and that’s how it needed to stay. 
But still, for a moment he wanted to say something. He wanted it to be something, because as much as he knew he needed to try and push past this, last night was still on his mind. Dr. Min didn’t help either. He thought he would give him the slap in the face he needed, but his words stuck to him.
What he wanted? Why did it matter what he wanted? He was the one who needed to fix this, he was the one who messed up. But for some reason anytime he thought about it you would pop into his head. You had been just a taste of the things he hadn’t discovered, and like a veil finally being lifted from his eyes, he could finally see how immense the world he lived in was. But you were forbidden, a fruit he couldn’t have, one he shouldn’t want. All he had was a taste and he wanted more. He wanted you in all the ways possible and to explore a side of himself he didn’t know existed until he was with you that night. The only experience he had was with Yuri, and he barely explored his sexuality outside of his relationship— Yuri making up 95% of his sexual experience and 100% of his relationship experience. He knew he was an amateur going into his marriage, but he never knew sex could feel that good.
He wanted Yuri, he wanted his wife, he wanted to be her husband, but as much as he kept telling himself that, the doctor’s words were back in his head once again and that side he was ashamed of would come out. He wanted you, and it was worse this time— instead of his imagination fueling his fantasy, he had an actual memory to look back on. The more he thought about it, the more the doctor’s words rang in his head. 
Would the best thing for his and Yuri’s relationship really be a break from each other? How did that make sense at all? How would he ever fix the mess he made if he wasn’t with her? And then to tell her about the affair? That was just a straight ticket to divorce and failure. The amount of people that would be let down if they knew what he did… it just didn’t make sense.
He had to fix this. He had to fix this. Failure wasn’t an option. 
•────•──────────•────•
The next few days weren’t any better. Somehow, it got worse.
He thought things would be awkward for a little while, but eventually you both would fall back into your routine. He thought the memory of that night would fade, and you would just become his coworker again. That mistake, that fluke, it would be like it never happened. 
But it did, and he couldn’t forget it. It seemed to be the only thing he could think about these days: your lips, your hands, your body, how it felt to have you right there on his desk. 
It should have been a mistake, it should have been a fluke, Jungkook should have been trying his very hardest to push that night out of his mind, to pretend that it didn’t happen, but… 
Sometimes he’d think about it too much. His mind betrayed him first and then his body would follow soon after. It seemed to happen every time he was alone. In the shower, in his office, in the gym, there was even this one time you assisted some of the managers with a presentation and he nearly lost his mind trying to keep it together. He completely forgot how to act like a normal person around you. Anytime you were in the same vicinity, the awkward conversations you used to share had downgraded to just standing there and staring at you like an idiot. He didn’t know what to say around you, how to make things go back to the small, awkward, yet friendly conversations you both would share whenever you saw each other in these last few weeks since you’d been promoted.  
He was a mess, and his mind and thoughts were muddled by a growing need that just got worse as the days passed. Each time he’d plead for his body to listen to him, to forget about that night so he could focus on Yuri again. There were too many times he had to fight every force of nature to stop himself from giving in. Tears would stream down his face as he thought about you, Yuri, and tried his best not to reach down his pants and fix it. 
He never thought it could get any worse than what he went through during those ten months of torture, but in just a matter of days you had him more needy than he knew what to do with.
Yesterday, two days after he had you on his desk, he tried to get Yuri to help him, but he should have known better. Jungkook had been in the shower with tears in his eyes as he looked down and saw what thinking about you did to him. He was trying so hard to be good for Yuri. He’d already betrayed her once, and he didn’t want to do it again, but it hurt so much.
In desperation, he quickly got out of the shower and went to Yuri who was lying peacefully on their bed, scrolling through her phone. Jungkook had tried to be subtle as he got in beside her, his hair was still damp and all. He scooted close and wrapped his arms around her waist. As soon as he was close enough she could feel it, he knew she could. Tears immediately welled up in his eyes all over again when he noticed her confusion before her realization of what was happening. This wasn’t as innocent as pulling her close because he wanted to cuddle, no, his perverse intentions couldn’t have been more clear.
He felt like a monster.
“Jungk—”
“Help— help me— please…” He quietly sobbed into her shoulder. His hips felt like they had a mind of their own, and he started grinding into the flimsy fabric of her shorts.
It was a desperate plea so he could forget about you and finally move on. He wanted Yuri to make him remember that she was his wife, he was her husband, and you were nothing more than his coworker. He would have taken anything, really. He would have done anything to make him forget.
For a moment, she didn’t say anything, she let him have his fun. He was such a mess— his hand slowly ran under her tank top feeling her warm skin while he practically fucked her with their clothes still on. As more time passed, the more he lost himself in the pleasure. He didn’t need long at all; he just wanted it to stop hurting… anything to stop hurting.
His breathy sighs of pleasure filled the room in between the sound of the sheets shifting underneath him. There was a moment he thought Yuri would let him have this, after all, she still thought that it’d been ten months since he’d had the sweet bliss of release. But of course, he was too greedy.
“Yuri…” He sighed in hopes that would be enough to engage her, because even now he was picturing you on his desk. His hand came up to tug lightly on the waistband of her shorts. Two minutes tops and he could forget it all, get his priorities straight, and you were nothing to him again.
“Jungkook, stop! What the fuck are you doing?!” Yuri finally snapped as she turned around to face him. But even then, he still didn’t stop entirely. It was just enough to get him to slow down.
“Please— please— Yuri!” He cried because it hurt so much, and you just wouldn’t leave him alone.
Yuri was quick at gaining the upper hand, and she was on top of him just like that day. She had his hands pinned down and was sitting right where he needed her. 
“What is going on with you these days?!” She was disappointed, and he was too. She was right; what had gotten into him? Jungkook just sobbed because it still hurt.
“Help…” He begged like it meant anything. Maybe if he had told her right then and there about the affair she would have assisted. Maybe, or maybe not, but maybe that was what it would take for him to focus on her again. But just like the day this whole mess started, she seemed completely uninterested in helping him. 
“No.” She didn’t beat around the bush whatsoever, and maybe on a different occasion, he would have appreciated the honesty instead of leading him on to the point he was a whimpering mess underneath her. It just hurt too much.
Jungkook slightly shifted his hips— it was just enough to elicit a breathy moan from his lips and for the shame he felt all over to wash away in a second.
Yuri looked down at him questionably, he normally wasn’t like this at all.
“If you won’t help, then can I at least— can I fix this myself?” Jungkook looked up at her with pleading eyes. 
“Wha—”
“You’re probably tired. You’ve been really busy these days, and I’m sorry I bothered you, but—” Tears slipped down his cheeks as he subtly tried grinding into her a little harder. “I can’t wait. It hurts so much, Yuri— please can I fix this myself…” Jungkook never thought he’d reach this type of low.
First the affair, and now he was begging just because he couldn’t keep himself together long enough to wait until she needed him too. He couldn’t even imagine the disappointment she must be experiencing. Her eyes said as much before she even spoke.
“You can’t keep it together?” Her tone was low, and though Jungkook could sense she was mad, to his messed-up brain it was just more fuel to the fire of desire that was raging out of control at this point. It was hot.
He hurriedly shook his head.
“I feel like I might lose it just from you sitting on my lap.” He cried, tears streaming down his face because that wasn’t an exaggeration at all. He felt so bad. Why was he so pathetic? But at the same time, why couldn’t she see his desperation? He just wanted the chance to be with his wife, the person he should be with instead of his coworker in the middle of the night, at his job, right on the desk he worked on. 
Suddenly, Yuri chuckled as she looked down at him. She leaned down so her lips hovered over his cheek. He wished she didn’t have his hands pinned down so he could have tried to push her to meet his lips, but she kept moving up so her mouth was right by his ear.
This angle… Jungkook wished she was wearing one of those tank tops today. The view would have been amazing.
“You really can’t keep it together, huh?” Yuri said again, right into his ear, and he very well could have lost it right then and there. 
“No…” He sobbed.
Yuri pulled back slightly so she could look him in the eye. 
“I don’t know what’s going on with you Jungkook, or whatever has gotten into that thick skull of yours, but I’m going to need whatever it is out immediately. You operate on my time, you wait until I’m ready. The fact that you can’t do that is just pathetic. I don’t care if it’s been months, I don’t understand how you think begging will do anything— a good fucking husband would know how to wait.” Every syllable was filled with the disappointment and malice he knew he deserved.
His heart wrenched at every word.
“I just— I just didn’t want to make a mistake— I’m sorry.” Jungkook was bawling at this point, his voice shaking uncontrollably. His face was probably red and soaking wet from how much he was crying. But he was lying right through his teeth. He’d already made a mistake, a horrible, terrible one. She had every right to never forgive him if she ever found out. It had only been a few days since he had you on his desk, and even after he had gone to such lengths to quell the ache of the last ten months, in just two days, he was in an even worse state than before. 
“A mistake?” She laughed.
“You’re the mistake— agreeing to get married to you was the mistake. I don’t ask much from you, yet you just keep disappointing me. I don’t even know why I still try to do this.” Her grip on his wrists had tightened so much it was starting to hurt. With the look in her eyes, Jungkook felt numb at this point. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn’t speak. Even if he could utter an apology, it would never be enough for the pain he’s caused her. Every word was true. Yuri was always right.
“But nevertheless, here I am. I don’t want to fight with you today Jungkook. All I ask is that you’ll wait, and until then…” Yuri’s hand let go of his wrist and started tracing from his jaw, down to his neck, over the expanse of his sweater, and eventually settled on the waistband of his shorts. She roughly pulled it before letting go, the pain of the elastic slapping back to his burning skin made an uncontrollable moan leave his lips before he could stop it. His head was spinning, he couldn’t keep up with what was happening anymore, and it was almost overwhelming.
“Stay away from me.” Her voice had grown soft, sultry almost, as she stared at him.
Jungkook felt almost crazed as the tears kept spilling from his eyes, her words loudly echoing through his head, but he was still hard, and he didn’t know what hurt more at this point. He was shaking and had the intense urge to run away and hide from the world, but he wanted nothing more than for Yuri to touch him more. It was selfish and disgusting, he just couldn’t get any worse.
With a hand now free, Jungkook suddenly found the strength to change the position. But before he realized what he was doing, Yuri was underneath him.
“Don’t do that, please.” Jungkook sighed, the position making his body instantly react, but his heart hurt too much to even attempt anything again. “I’ll leave you alone, I just want to make you happy— I’ll do anything, I hope you know that, but just… don’t make this hard for me, please.” Jungkook begged through his teary gaze. 
“I’m sorry I want you all the time, but when you touch me like that… I’m weak, you said it yourself.” He tried to laugh through the pain, but he was starting to feel shaky again.
“I just want to be a good husband, but I’m bad at this, so… just…” He was starting to get so choked up that it was hard to speak. “Just… just… just…” Jungkook buried himself in her neck so she wouldn’t have to see how pathetic he was right now. 
In the moment he missed you and how you comforted him that night; your hands across his back, your gentle touches that made him feel warm all over. He didn’t deserve it— not then, not now… but he still missed it.
“Go easy on me, please.” He couldn’t believe he had the audacity to say this like they haven’t been married for nearly four years. He’d run out of chances at this point. He should know by now what she likes and doesn’t. Even though they hadn’t spent that much time together, Jungkook knew before he walked out of the bathroom that she wouldn’t like this, that she'd get upset, yet he still tried anyway, hoping she might put him out of his misery.
There was no hope for him at this point. How Yuri hadn’t given up on him entirely was astounding.
“Jungkook, get off of me and stop fucking crying, that shit gets annoying after the billionth time.” Yuri groaned, already feeling her neck starting to get soaked. 
He really missed you— even though he didn’t deserve it, but you made him feel so good. He wished he was back to that Tuesday, the day he cried in your arms and took you right there on his desk. He missed you so much.
Jungkook quickly got off of Yuri and the bed entirely. He hastily started making his way to the bathroom once again.
“You better stop that before you—” He didn’t slam the door in her face, but Jungkook was in too much of a rush to let her finish. 
With the outside world finally shut out, Jungkook turned on the light, and from where he was standing at the door, he could see himself in the mirror. He was a mess, he looked like shit. His face was red and puffy, his face stained with tears that just kept falling from his eyes, and because he wasn’t wearing any underwear, the prominent outline of the very reason he got himself into this situation was embarrassingly obvious.
Jungkook hated what he saw, so he quickly turned the lights back off. In the darkness, all he could picture was you once again. That night, your soft warmth, your sympathetic gaze. Why did you look at him like that? Why didn’t you see what Yuri did? But he didn’t want to think about that right now, how much his heart ached, or how his mind cried out to the void to end the pain because he was just making his wife miserable. No. Instead, the memory of you on his desk was too vivid. He could practically still feel you wrapped around him, your hands on his skin, your lips on his lips, he couldn’t forget it.  He didn’t want to.
Tears spilled from his eyes faster than his hand found its way into his shorts. He hesitated for only a second. Yuri was right outside, and this was so wrong. He’d just disappoint her even more than he already has. As shameful as it was, that hesitation only lasted for a second before he hurriedly had his fingers wrapped around his length as he steadily started pumping his needy cock. 
“I’m— so sorry!” Jungkook cried out as quietly as he could. Just one big disappointment. But you, your lips, your hands— fuck, your hands. Your fingers through his hair, your nails down his back, your hand around his cock. It never felt like that before. Jungkook didn’t know it could feel like that—  sex never felt like that. Not with his first, not with Yuri, but you… you… why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?
Jungkook hurriedly brought his hand over his mouth, the memories of when he used to do this returning all too quickly. He’d always wished Yuri would touch him, but that was selfish. The fact that she was even spending time with him should be enough. Yet you had touched him, and he didn’t even have to ask? You were strange, but as selfish as it might sound, he liked it.
Jungkook let himself slide down the door, the pleasure his hand was bringing made his knees weak. As much as he wanted to deny it, he wanted you again. He wished you were here right now to help ease the ache in both places. Would you, considering everything that had happened?
Jungkook hurriedly tried to shake those thoughts out of his head. No, you were back on his desk in his office. You noticed he was upset and came over to comfort him and make him feel better in any way you could. Your lips were on his, he was kissing you again and—
Fuck.
Jungkook briskly let go to quickly spit in his hand before hastily going back to fisting his length. Faster, he needed to make himself cum as fast as possible. The shakes were getting worse. He felt horrible, a failure, a disappointment, every flick just made him feel so fucking disgusted in himself, but it hurt too much to stop.
You on his desk, how it felt to have your hand wrapped around him, how it felt to be inside you—
There it is.
Jungkook let his mind reminisce in as much detail as he could remember. How it felt to finally be inside you, the sounds you made, how wet, tight, and warm you were— so fucking good. He wanted you again so badly, it should be criminal. He was married and he already messed up once, yet he couldn’t stop thinking about it— you on the desk, your fucking sweet pussy wrapped around his aching length. 
Close, he was getting close.
Jungkook brought his other hand up to tightly hold it against his mouth once more. His moans were getting too loud and he feared Yuri would hear. He tried to speed it up even more. All he needed was a little longer. 
You, your hands, your lips, your warmth, your bunched-up skirt, your thigh-highs, your panties, your red lipstick smearing across his face. Oh. So close. 
And then, at last, the feeling deep down inside growing and growing until he finally spilled inside of you—
Wait… what?
Jungkook’s eyes suddenly shot open, the haunting darkness of the bathroom now an unwelcoming sight. An immediate, deep, visceral sense of panic and dread sunk in as he racked his brain in hopes he was overreacting or misremembering. 
Jungkook had tried to push the memories of that night as far away as possible over the last few days, but now that he was thinking about it properly…
That day… you both hadn’t used protection.
It’s not like he walked around with condoms, he had no need, but…
Suddenly the ache that seemed deafening became just a muffled, dull, fuzzy noise in the background as this realization dawned on him. 
How? How did he not realize you hadn’t used protection? No matter how needy he was with Yuri, he was always so careful in the rare times they went all the way. How did he fucking forget?!
Jungkook suddenly had the urge to run into a wall and hoped he would never wake up again. This entire week had already turned out to be one horrible nightmare. But as if his life wasn’t shitty enough before, suddenly it took a whole new turn. 
The shaking came back and was worse than ever. He was at a point where he was sure he would scream his lungs out, but Yuri would hate the noise. Jungkook felt dazed, the realization was the quickest way to kill the mood, and the fastest he’d ever lost a boner. 
After a while, he somehow found the strength to stand up again and open the door to the bedroom. Yuri had turned off the lights here too. The only light coming in was from the few that were turned on in the hallway and Yuri’s phone playing some type of video. It also didn’t take long for him to see that she had fallen asleep.
For a split second, he was sad she wasn’t awake. He needed someone to talk to, even if that involved telling her about the affair. He felt like he was seconds away from losing his mind. He probably already had at this point. How could he fucking forget protection?!
Despite his shakiness, Jungkook went over to Yuri’s side— the right if you were facing the bed— and walked over to turn off her phone.
She had a makeup ASMR video playing. Those always helped her sleep and she said she could learn a few things from them while she was awake. As gently as he could, he also took out her headphones and set them on the nightstand. His hands had been shaking so badly that he could hardly pause the video for her.
But as Jungkook made his way to his side— the left— the weight of his actions became even more unbearable.
Jungkook lifted the covers and got in bed, laying face down on the pillow. The fabric was soaked by his tears in a matter of seconds. 
How could things just keep getting worse?
•────•──────────•────•
You knew it would be awkward when you came into work. It was inevitable, considering what things were like the last time you saw each other. However, for your sake and Jungkook’s, you tried your best to ignore what had transpired and move on with your life, but that was easier said than done. 
The minute Jungkook dropped you off and you made it back up to your apartment, you were stuck in place as soon as you closed the door behind you. Time felt like it stood still and nothing around you moved, like space itself had stopped in order to greet you with an agonizing silence. It was to taunt you and let the thoughts of what you had just done fester, quickly gnawing away at your sense of self and your very being, leaving you to question the type of person you thought you were for your entire life. You couldn’t move, trying to process everything that happened. This couldn’t be real, right? 
This was Jeon Jungkook we’re talking about— the Jeon Jungkook who was the son of the CEO at the company you work at.
You pinched your arm so many times you were sure it was going to bruise in your attempt to wake yourself up. You were probably still fast asleep in your cozy bed, stuck in a dream that just wouldn’t end. Your sexual frustration had somehow managed to manifest into you dreaming about your late night meet-up with your boss ending with you sleeping together. All would be fine in the morning except for the fact you’d have to look him in the eye, knowing what your brain had conjured up the night before. It was embarrassing, but that honestly made more sense than everything being real and this night actually happening. 
You were sure you’d wake up at any moment, but your arm started to hurt, and you knew standing here probably wouldn’t do anything. You finally found the strength to move from the entryway and head to your room to start getting ready for bed. You showered, then laid down staring at your ceiling, just waiting for your eyes to shoot open and you’d see it was Tuesday, October 31st, all over again. 
Nothing… nothing happened. 
While the seconds ticked away, your hope was drowned out as you let your mind reminisce about what had happened earlier. The minute you opened the door, you could just see it on his face. He had looked so sad, a pain behind his eyes that made any sense of composure you maintained in front of him come crumbling down. You felt like you had to fix it. Your heart had nearly pounded out of your chest when you got close, holding your coats and his scarf. You didn’t know what you were thinking, pulling him close the way you did, but then his hands were on your waist, and— You flipped over, feeling your face grow warm. 
But that didn’t help whatsoever, because it was like a floodgate had opened, and now you remembered how his lips felt against yours, his hurried hands across your burning skin, and most of all, how his… You spent nearly the entire night tossing and turning, bouncing back and forth between your guilt and shame for somehow getting yourself involved in this situation, to Jungkook and his stupid…
There was a scary part of you that was selfish, one that wished you had invited him upstairs. It had been so long since you’d been in the arms of another human being, that you forgot how much better the experience was. You’d never had sex like that before— it was desperate and emotional in a way you still couldn’t comprehend. The way Jungkook had held onto you, with tears streaming down his face, kept you close. You felt it in the way he kissed you, pleaded for you, the way he touched you. The way he touched you… it had been so long. 
Your tossing and turning had stopped at some point, your fight trying to get Jeon Jungkook out of your head had been lost, hard. The ache between your legs returned before you even realized, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop imagining the way his body felt against yours, his fingers inside you, or the slick glides of his cock through your wetness. 
It was just Jeon Jungkook no matter how hard you tried to close your eyes. You were too tired to fight against your hand traveling down into your shorts, and you nearly cried feeling how wet you were. It was a low moment, the entire night had been a low moment for you, but you let the thoughts fully consume you as your fingers glided between your soaked folds and settled on your clit, rubbing needy circles over the bud that was still a little sensitive from earlier. It was a horrible realization, but that just made your deluded self even more hot. It had been real.
You pictured him, you pictured the night you shared, you pictured the nights you didn’t share where he was just existing in your vicinity. You had no idea this part of you existed, the one where you thought Jeon Jungkook was so hot he could get you this riled up. You had known he was attractive, you had eyes, but the emotions had never let you see him like… that. The soft candle glow that had painted him so prettily, the way his sparkling eyes would look at you, how much you enjoyed the way he looked at you.
“Jungkook…” You whined with seemingly no shame. It was embarrassing, but you had never finished so fast with just your fingers. For a split second, as the bliss washed over you, you found yourself wishing he was here and questioning why of all people he had to be married. But as the high washed over you, all that was left in its wake was the starkness of shame. The guilt you felt as you tried bringing yourself back to earth. You had slept and now masturbated to a married man… Jungkook had a wife, and he was your boss. You thought you were better than this. 
Your eyes had filled with tears, and you spent the rest of the night crying your eyes out because what was wrong with you? You might have just ruined a family— your boss’s family, and who knows what might happen to you career-wise if someone were to find out.
You didn’t really sleep that night; you highly doubted you even got an hour before your alarm went off, and you had to get ready. That day was awful. As you expected yesterday, both Solmi and Taehyung didn’t come into work, probably too drunk from their night of fun to realize their alarms even went off. There was some part of you that was glad they weren’t here. You had been debating all night if you should tell your close friends about your night, but their absence was enough to remind you of your words to Jungkook last night.
It was a mistake, a fluke, it shouldn’t have happened, and you wouldn’t tell another soul so you both could easily pretend like nothing occurred that night. And seeing Jeon Jungkook again… 
Jimin had told you that Jungkook was going to be coming in late, and you couldn’t help the terror that spread throughout your body picturing why that might be. Your mind had drifted to the image of him on his knees begging his wife for a second chance, or maybe she’d kicked him out of the house, or maybe she was going to come after you for ruining their marriage. It felt like every scenario had run through your head by the time you had made it to the meeting room, waiting on him. 
You weren’t prepared at all when you glanced up from your computer at the sound of the door opening, for you to see him again. Your eyes met from across the room, and there was a second, a painful second where your minuscule amount of hope last night had just been a horny delusion that you could simply chastise your brain for making up later, died faster than you would have wanted. You could see it in the way his brows furrowed at you as soon as he met your eyes, that you knew last night had happened. 
He looked really good too… He was in a navy suit, missing a tie, instead a few buttons were undone, and his long hair messily fell around his face in a way that made him look ethereal. He looked like he had run his hands through it one too many times, yet somehow it just made him seem even more perfect. You swore you heard the pearly gates calling your name, the church bells sing, and… You wanted to scream. What were you thinking?! Immediately you decided to just try your best to ignore it, pushing him away was your only option in hoping things went back to normal— they needed to go back to normal. He had a wife, you had your career, you had to pretend it never happened. 
That’s how it needed to be after all. That day was a mistake; it shouldn’t have happened. The more you pretended it was that way, the easier it would be to move past this, the more you could forget, and the quicker things would go back to normal. But deep down, when you were alone, or you’d see him again— doing that was much harder than it needed to be. 
That night would come back to you in a flash. You’d wonder if he was doing okay, was he thinking about the night like you were, or were you just another girl he added to his roster of infidelity? You highly doubted it, just seeing the state he was in you didn’t think this was a normal occurrence, but who knows. There was some part of you that wanted to ask, however you had to keep your distance— at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. You knew it was a little rude to almost flat-out ignore him like that, but addressing it would create an even bigger issue. So mean, rude, standoffish Y/n it was then. 
You could still feel his eyes on you anytime you were near each other. Part of you wanted to say something, but for some reason, you could never find it in yourself to tell him to stop staring. You were still mad. This whole thing made you angry and you knew your friends could sense the tension. Everyone in the office could but they probably didn’t question why. They all still thought you hated him after all.
You did… didn’t… you…? It was confusing then and ten times more confusing now. Still though, you tried to keep to yourself and ignore what happened. You thought you were doing a good job of it until you got an email that Friday.
From Director Jeon Jungkook,
can we talk??
It was informal, nothing about work was mentioned, and it was all too familiar with the Jungkook you had met during your late-night rendezvous… meeting! Yes, you were only there for one reason that night, and it was to get things ready for the budget presentation. Maybe this was his attempt at trying to be more comfortable with you. He did say all the formalities felt weird considering you were the same age. That had to be it!
As much as you wanted to delude yourself, deep down you knew whatever he emailed you for had something to do with that night. 
You let him know you’d come over during your lunch break, resisting the urge to tell him you didn’t want to talk about it. But you figured it had to be at least somewhat important for him to reach out. It better be. What part of pretending nothing happened between you two did he not understand?
That’s how you found yourself making your way through the halls to Jeon Jungkook’s office. You tried to be as inconspicuous as you could, turning every corner with ease and looking around anytime you’d hear footsteps behind you. Just being in the same vicinity made you feel like someone would find out what you both did.  
Your brain had rationalized that being seen together would surely be the obvious sign to everyone that you fucked your boss a few days ago. It made no sense whatsoever, you knew that, but still, you made sure to be as stealthy as you could on your way over.
You hoped no one saw you, and you were especially grateful when you passed Secretary Yu’s desk and she wasn’t there either. If you could make this quick, no one would realize you were ever here. 
Staring at the door, you found your heart beating out of control at the thought of facing him again. You knew you weren’t ready for this, you probably would never be, but it was still so soon after it happened…
It took you a second, but eventually you found the strength to knock before pushing open the door.
You were greeted by a similar sight as last time. His office was almost completely dark. He had kept the lights off and closed the blinds so only a sliver of light was peering into the room through the cracks. You could only make out a vague outline, but as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you could finally make out Jungkook sitting at his desk. You could see his hands were in his hair, and the more closely you listened, the more you could hear his soft sniffles. Your first instinct was to run over to see what was going on, but you refrained as you steadily made your way over, only narrowly avoiding any furniture in the way. 
“Jungkook?” You called out, your heart nearly speeding out of your chest.
“Y/n…?” His voice sounded so strained.
“Yes, it’s me.” You tried to keep your tone flat, but it wavered slightly as you got closer.
With the confirmation it was you, Jungkook reached over to the lamp on his desk and finally turned on the light. You were shocked to see how disheveled he looked once the warm glow of the lamp hit his features. His hair looked like he had run his hands through it way too many times, his eyes were shot, his face was red, and tears stained his cheeks. 
Seeing him like this, it was hard to keep up your tough exterior. You quickly made your way over to his desk, keeping a notable distance between you two— standing behind the chairs sitting in front of his desk. You feared what might happen if you got any closer. 
“Um, you asked to speak with me.” This is how you’d usually talk whenever he’d call you to his office. Part of you was still holding onto the hope that this was just work related. 
You watched as a whole new wave of emotion seemingly hit Jungkook, fresh tears falling from his eyes as his hands returned to his hair. 
“I—um— I know we said we weren’t going to talk about that night, but… um—” Jungkook tried his best to be firm about this, but his whole world felt like it was coming down. He couldn’t sleep last night thinking about having this conversation with you, and now that you were here, it all felt too real.
“… I don’t remember using protection that night.” Jungkook was only able to meet your gaze for a second, long enough to see the look of shock on your face.
A whole new wave of guilt washed over him. This was all his fault.
“I know I didn’t have condoms with me, and unless you did and I didn’t realize you put one on, then…” Jungkook looked like he was pleading with you to tell him he forgot, that he was just so out of it he didn’t realize you had put one on some time in between. He had no reason to carry any with him personally. It’s not like he was expecting Yuri to fuck him in a place where he’d need to have them on him at all times— hell, they hardly used the condoms they kept at the apartment. Jungkook had never even managed to make it through a whole box without needing to replace them first because they’d expired. 
Still though, they were always so careful whenever they had sex. Jungkook spent the entire night mind-boggled at how he could have been so careless with you. And now, because he couldn’t control himself, there was a chance he might have ruined both of your lives. His own life was already shit, but now he might be bringing you down with him. He already had, but somehow the pit only grew deeper.
You sighed at the question— slightly relieved this was going to be easy to answer. 
“Don’t worry.” You remained apathetic, not exactly the emotional breakdown he expected considering the gravity of the situation. All night Jungkook had pictured that the minute he’d tell you, you would scream and curse at him for being so careless. It was almost uncanny how calm you were in comparison. You used the exact same tone whenever you’d talk to him about work, in the office when you had a quick question, or in front of the prying eyes of your nosy coworkers, like it was the most nonchalant thing ever. 
While your words were soothing, he couldn’t calm down quite yet.
“I’m on birth control, so as long as you’re clean we should be fine.” It took a minute for your words to register, but an immediate flush came to his cheeks. He completely forgot about birth control or that ever being a possibility of the invisible contraceptive he had prayed all night for. He felt even more embarrassed that he hadn’t considered you had some type of plan that night. Of course, you were smart, you wouldn’t let someone so pathetic ruin your life.
You watched his face, and you were honestly delighted to see a slight look of relief quickly settle over his soft, saddened features. You tried your best to hide it.
“Oh— I’m sorry. Of course you thought about it— good. We should be good then.” His voice was shaky, and while his words said one thing, he still seemed stressed for some reason as his hands were quickly back in his hair. 
Again, you had to resist the urge to ask him if he was ok. Distance, you had to keep this boundary up. You needed to get out of here.
“If you’re concerned about the other issue, I’ll make sure to pick up a morning-after pill or something on my way home just to ensure we’re fine,” you added, and he slowly nodded. Honestly, even if he hadn't said yes, you probably would have gone anyway just to be safe. You should have done it sooner, but you completely forgot about that detail while trying to push Tuesday out of your mind. 
“It’s up to you…” He mumbled, but he still seemed off. You had to get out of here.
“If that’s all then, I’ll be on my way sir—” You bowed, trying to be as polite as possible, before turning around and heading for the door.
“Wait!” You couldn’t even take two steps before he was calling you back. You visibly tensed up as you slowly turned around. You were greeted with his shiny brown eyes finally meeting your own for the first time since you walked in. Suddenly you felt your knees start getting weak. There was no reason for him to look at you like that.
“Don’t leave… that’s not all I wanted to say…” You could see in the way he looked at you that this was going to be the conversation you feared when you walked in. You resisted the urge to mention that you both agreed not to speak about it, but instead you just crossed your arms, ready to listen.
“I— um… I owe you a major apology…” He stumbled and his hands were back in his hair.
“That night— I don’t know what was wrong with me— it shouldn’t have happened, you were right.” He stopped for a second, and you wondered what he was trying to get at. What more was there to say? It really shouldn’t have happened.
“But…” Jungkook’s voice wavered as he looked up at you. “I’m even more sorry that despite how wrong I know it was I—” he took a deep breath “I can’t stop thinking about that night.” He truly felt bad. Here he was, trying his best to put his mistake behind him, yet all it did was fill his thoughts. Where was the guilt? Why wasn’t he so ashamed that just the thought of you was enough to remind him of what he’d done?
He saw your hard expression falter for a second, but it was back before he even realized. Jungkook felt like he was at his wits end. Everything was crashing down, and he didn’t have much to lose at this point. 
“And now all I can think about is…” tears quickly filled his eyes knowing what he was about to say “— how I want to do it again so, so badly… it had never felt that good before.” It was a sad, deep, dark confession that he hated as soon as it came out of his mouth. Admitting it was nice was one thing, but wanting to do it again was another.
Maybe you could excuse that night as a one-time thing— he was a mess, you both had some wine, and shit happened before you both could even realize. It was nonsense, Jungkook didn’t drink nearly enough to say he was acting against his own volition, and it wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision either. He had thought about having you against every surface in the office before anything actually happened. He’d wanted you nearly as long as you’d worked here.
Jungkook finally had to look away from you as his words settled in the air.
“Jungkook… you know what continuing, even just acknowledging what happened— you know what that would mean…?” You were honestly baffled and you hated the way your heart nearly beat out of your chest at the mention of it.
“Yes.” It was so quiet, and with the faint glow of his lamp you could see a new wave of tears start running down his cheeks. 
“That night— it was all my fault...” His voice was shaky just thinking about it. 
“I told you that I’m in an arranged marriage and that things are rough right now… it’s my fault, everything is my fault.” It certainly was.
“Despite the circumstances we got married in, we both agreed to try to make our relationship work, and I’ve just kept messing things up no matter how hard I tried to make her happy.” It’s been nearly four years and he could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d made her smile.
“She hates me, and I don’t blame her at all— I honestly deserve it and more.” He deserved far worse at this point.
“Why would your wife hate you?” You couldn’t help but ask, but you regretted it as soon as it left your mouth. The fact you had somehow found yourself in this situation proved that something wasn’t right. But the question had bounced around in your head for the past few days, wondering what might be splitting the couple to the point Jungkook sought you out for relief.
He looked at you for a split second. “I don’t know how to be a good husband. No matter what I do, I don’t know how to make her happy like I should.” He attested with a level of pain in his voice that you weren’t prepared for. 
“Jungkook…” You were speechless… a deep, unsettling, uneasy feeling spread throughout your body as you listened. You had zero insight into the situation, but despite everything, it felt wrong to hear him be so down on himself. It was heartbreaking to listen to.
“I don’t think you deserve to be hated—” You tried to console, but Jungkook stopped you before you could finish.
“No… she deserves a better husband— a different one— someone who can make her happy, and I should just… just disappear— I can’t do anything right.” He tried to laugh but it just came out like a pained sob. It wasn’t funny and he couldn’t even pretend to laugh at that anymore.
“Jungkook—”  You called out again, but he stopped you in your tracks. 
“I hope you believe me when I say that that night was the first time something like that happened.” His shiny eyes looked up at you again, and you could have broken down right then and there. The pain, you could see it so clearly.
“I despise cheating and the fact that— that— that night happened, I just—” He couldn’t be more disappointed in himself. He’d forever tainted his marriage, just like his parents had done.
Even if Yuri never found out, the fear of her somehow discovering what he did one day… the guilt would kill him. Their anniversary was coming up in a few months— how could he look her in the eyes and relive the moments of their wedding day knowing he betrayed their vows, her trust, knowing that she had every reason to leave him?
Maybe one day he could finally get his shit together and Yuri could love him the way he’d always dreamed, but that would all come crashing down one day when she somehow found out what he did. 
Jungkook at least thought he was above that. The one thing he knew he could promise Yuri was that he’d always be by her side, faithfully and earnestly, yet he’d found a way to fuck that up too.
There really was no happy ending for him, was there?
“I’m sorry— it shouldn’t have happened, and I feel horrible bringing you into my mess.”
You wanted to say that you were equally to blame, but Jungkook was faster.
“And— and I just… I’m sorry— we agreed to try and move on from this but I just can’t stop thinking about you and that night and—” It wasn’t even funny how much he thought about you. Right before you walked in, he had the lights off to hide his shame because even in the middle of what he thought was a crisis, all he could think about was you on his desk. And seeing you now standing in front of him…
“I’m sorry…” Jungkook just cried. He really didn’t have the words to describe how he felt right now. 
“I spoke to a therapist about it.” Jungkook could instantly see the slight panic on your face at the mention of him telling someone about this. “I took your advice from that night about talking to someone. I really wasn’t in a good place at all, and if I hadn’t, I think I might have gone crazy. He was supposed to help me and Yuri with the issues in our marriage, but he’s helped me with more than just my relationship. Don’t worry. Yuri won’t find out.” Jungkook had full trust that the doctor wouldn’t tell Yuri about the affair. Even though their conversation wasn’t protected by doctor-patient confidentiality, he still knew the doctor wouldn’t say anything. He was expecting that Jungkook was going to tell her on his own time. 
You were a little taken aback by the news, but your memory of that night was clear. You knew when you parted ways that he really didn’t seem okay. The fact that it was a therapist he confided in made you relax a little.
“I went to him for a slap on the face, but instead he said— he said I should consider stepping away from Yuri for a little while and take the time to try and figure out what I want in life. But I can’t— I want her, and I want to make our marriage work somehow.” Jungkook was in tears again. He didn’t want to give up on his marriage yet. He couldn’t give up, so many people were counting on him to make this work.
“But I can’t think straight. I’m always so frustrated and you’re always in my head— I know I could be better— it’s not an excuse, I should be better, but—” What was he even saying?
“That night was— it never felt that good before— you were there for me, and despite how much of a mess I was, you—” Why? The question had never run through his head until now, but what could have possibly been your reason for being there with him that night? You were too nice. His thoughts were running a million miles an hour. He honestly couldn’t think clearly anymore.
“And your clothes— I’m sorry about that, I’m so sorry— it had— it had been ten months since I last, you know… but that’s not an excuse. I’m sorry, I should have been better.” He should have been. Imagine how disappointed Yuri would be if she knew. 
“Ten months?” This conversation had gone all over the place, but you couldn’t hide your shock at this piece of news. You had just let him rant, not wanting to interrupt to give him the chance to get whatever he needed off his chest, but you just couldn’t hide your reaction. 
Ten months was certainly not normal, especially considering he was married and had no kids to take up his free time after work. Suddenly, things started making a little more sense.
“It’s my fault— it’s all my fault— I’m not a good husband, I should have been able to wait longer if I had to— or maybe she would have wanted me sooner if I was better.” If he was better he wouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place. 
There were some things that Jungkook said that made your skin crawl. It was possible his whole spiel could be some convoluted way into excusing what happened between you two, but then he said statements like that that would make alarm bells go off in your head. That certainly wasn’t right. 
“But I want to be better. I want to make things right, and I just feel like I can’t do that when all I can think about is—” Jungkook didn’t finish, instead letting a pained sigh say everything he couldn’t. 
“And I know it’s pathetic, but I wanted your help—” There it was, what’s been on his mind since that night. “Maybe you could tell me what I could do better— how to make her happy, what I’m lacking. And I just can’t stop thinking about you—” He looked up at you with those shiny, round eyes that made it so hard to say no.
And there it was, exactly what you feared when you walked in. 
So much was happening, so many emotions thrown at you that you were tempted to take a seat in the chair in front of you to sit down and process it all. You tried your best to remove all emotion from this, to look at this as objectively as you could, but with Jungkook right in front of you and hearing everything he said—
You knew something was wrong from the minute you walked into your first meeting together, but you could have never predicted just how bad things were. You had no idea what went on behind closed doors. Maybe things really might be as bad as Jungkook said, but the hurt, pain, and desperation he spoke with made the wall you tried putting up impossible to keep from crashing down.
It took you back to Mi-Sun once again. You remembered talking to her in class sometimes and how she would spin every inconvenience into her doing. She always emphasized how it was her fault the other girls would tease her as much as they did. You didn’t understand it then, but Jungkook’s admissions almost felt like a repeat of what happened all those years ago, and you knew how that story ended.
“It’s my fault.” She had said so aimlessly as she stared out the window you both sat by.
“How is it your fault?!” You’d questioned, maybe a little too harshly. You couldn’t believe her words, considering you knew she had never done anything wrong. The girls were rude, you had no idea why, but Mi-Sun had been their target since you both made it to high school. 
She should have known this, and it just made you angry. “They’re the problem, they have always been the problem. They’re rude just because they can be, and for some reason, no one is doing anything to stop it, and—”
“Y/n, just look at me!” You had turned to your friend, her eyes teary, and you should have seen it sooner. “It’s all my fault.” She softly cried before you pulled her into your arms. 
You didn’t see it then, and the way Jungkook spoke now made you feel like you were back in high school, in class, right by the window you both would always sit by as Mi-Sun stared out, the light shining in her eyes growing dimmer as each day passed. 
“Jungkook… you know what continuing would mean…” You looked at him worriedly.
You saw the tears run down his cheeks again as he slowly nodded his head. 
“If anyone were to find out about that night, we could maybe just say we had too much to drink, it was late, or you could even mention your breakdown. Doing anything more would truly turn this into cheating. We’d have no excuses at that point.” Your eyes were sad as you noticed his expression grow more pained.
“And since you’re still trying to make things work with your wife— I just don’t think that’s the smartest idea. If we leave things where they’re at now, it would give us our best chance of going back to normal and putting the whole thing behind us.” 
You could see the consequences coming from a mile away. You knew there would only be trouble going forward. You certainly weren’t a homewrecker by any means. You didn’t want to be the reason things came crashing down.
Jungkook steadily nodded.
“I probably look pathetic right now— I’m sorry, I don’t want you to think I’m forcing you or anything considering—” Jungkook was your boss… or well, technically your boss’s boss, but the dynamic was still a little strange. It was all strange. This whole situation was strange. 
But it felt like you were with Mi-Sun all over again. You didn’t see the signs then, but Jungkook was right in front of you. You had the chance to help someone in a way you couldn’t help your friend in high school. What might happen if you just walked away from this now? A repeat? Or maybe something even worse. 
“You don’t look pathetic, and I know you’re not forcing me… it’s just… things are going to get really complicated if we decide to do this.”
The vagueness of your statement was intentional— it’s not like you were saying no, because you weren’t. You really didn’t want to get involved in this, but seeing Jungkook so low… You didn’t think he was pathetic, however hearing him rant like this was just painful. Things weren’t right, and finding out your night together made him feel even the slightest bit better made you want to help him in any way you could. You hated seeing the dark cloud storming over him and his sad, tired gaze anytime you’d meet his eyes. It was difficult to watch, and as reckless as it was, you wanted to do anything to take away his pain just like you had wished you could’ve taken Mi-Sun’s pain away.
Jungkook visibly picked up on the fact that you didn’t outright say no, and part of you hated seeing the glimmer of hope in his eyes. This really was a bad idea to even entertain the idea of continuing, but at the same time, it was nice to see his gloom wash away, if only for a second. But that moment only lasted for a second before his expression suddenly changed into something darker, somehow even more disturbed.
“I promise I'll be good.” It was an odd choice of words that immediately caught you off guard. 
“I’ll stay in line, I won’t ask for anything in return. I’ll wait until you want me. I promise I’ll be good, I promise.” It was his last-ditch effort to convince you. He was almost pleading with you. You couldn’t help but look at him strangely, wondering what he meant by that.
“I’ll be good— I have to be good— I don’t want to disappoint you either.” Things had truly taken a turn. Jungkook's expression grew more pained by the second, the cloud that hovered around him stormed with a concerning ferocity. 
“I’ll be good— I promise— I promise I’ll wait.” Jungkook was slipping off an edge you didn’t see coming. The tears so easily slipped past his eyes, an uneasiness behind his desperate gaze. For some reason, you knew deep down this wasn’t coming from nowhere, especially after hearing his rant earlier…
“What do you mea—” But you couldn’t finish your sentence. The wave had already come crashing down over him, and you saw Jungkook fall to pieces first-hand. Even in the subtle light, you could see he was shaking.
“I’ll wait, I’ll wait if you want me to— as long as you need me to— I’ll be good— I promise!” He looked you in the eye, but for some reason you felt like he was looking right through you.
“I don’t want to disappoint you— I’ll be good— I have to be good— I have to— I’ll wait— I promise I’ll wait!” This had turned into a full-blown meltdown. You could see it in the look in his eyes. Something was on his mind, and it was tearing him apart. As much as you wanted to remain as neutral as possible, you couldn’t just stand there anymore and watch this. You quickly made your way around his desk so you were standing right beside him. His hands were back in his hair and his rambling had nearly turned incoherent.
In the low light you could see his hands trembling, and you quickly had to stop the tears from pouring out at that point. You couldn’t imagine what he must have gone through to make him so upset. If this was all a ruse then he deserved to be in Hollywood, but even suggesting that this might be a trick just felt beyond cruel. He was clearly struggling…
“Jungkook— please— please look at me.” You tried to remain calm, but your voice wavered in the middle.
“I’ll be good!” You could barely make his words out through the sobs. 
“Jungkook… please look at me…” You gently tapped him on the shoulder. You were a little calmer this time, and that finally had him turning to face you, breaking him out of his trance.
He was finally looking up at you with his big, round, sad eyes, and your heart nearly broke in two when you saw his lip quiver slightly. He seemed so innocent, yet so broken, and you just wanted to fix him somehow.
You brought your hand up to lightly cup his cheek— they were wet, so, so wet, and as you moved his hair out his face, you could feel the tips had grown damp. Tears steadily continued to pour onto your fingers, but you tried your best to wipe them away. You also didn’t miss the way he practically careened into your warmth.
Such a pretty boy shouldn’t cry like this.
“I’ll wait…” He muttered as he looked at you. This time you knew he was talking to you.
“What do you mean you’ll wait?” You asked gently as you continued to wipe the tears from his eyes.
“As long as you need me to… weeks, months, years. I’ll wait until you want me.” Something about the way he said this, the pain in his voice made it that much more heartbreaking. Weeks were already crazy, but months, years? For some reason, the strain in the way he said this along with what he mentioned earlier, made you think this went deeper than his breakdown.
“I’ll be good, I promise— I’ll wait— I can’t disappoint you too.” He sobbed into your hands. Too? No, this wouldn’t do.
“Jungkook, what do you want?” You asked, looking him directly in the eyes. Your question visibly confused him at first, which just made you feel bold enough to go a step further. You looked toward the door before looking back down at him. 
“Are you expecting anyone here any time soon?” 
Confusedly, he shook his head. “It’s lunch right now— Secretary Yu went out to get something to eat and I don’t have any appointments.”
At this news, you let go of his pretty face and grabbed the end of your skirt. It was tight, so you pulled it up slightly before taking a seat right on his lap. You paid close attention to the look on his face, and you saw the panic before you felt it. His confusion turned into worry as he looked down at where you were sitting. He knew you could feel it, a surprise you had not expected when you sat down. 
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll wait, I promise!” He seemed panicked as he looked at you. His hands hovered over your waist, too scared to push anything further.  He said he’d wait, but he was hard underneath you.
Jungkook’s thoughts had been filled with you even before you walked in. They always were whenever he was in his office these days, the memories returning so vividly as he’d stare at his desk where it happened. 
“I can wait, I promise!” He tried to defend, but his brain was already starting to get fuzzy just from having you on his lap. 
“Jungkook, what do you want?” You asked again, wrapping your arms around his neck. He was tense, but you felt him momentarily grab ahold of your waist and pull you a little closer. It would be so easy to kiss him like this.
“I…” His eyes struggled to meet your own. You were so close. He wanted to look and touch everywhere, but he had to think about you. 
“I want to be good— I promise I’ll wait—” He had tears in his eyes as he stared down at where your bodies met. 
“Mmm…. Is that so?” You looked down and you wondered what he meant about waiting. Clearly he needed something now, you could feel it right underneath you. 
Jungkook shakily nodded.
“Until you want me, I’ll wait.” For a second, you ran his proposed arrangement through your head. What kind of affair would that be? Not that you thought about it before, but who’s ever heard of an affair where the guy is at the beck and call of the person he’s cheating with?
It was even more reason to believe he really hadn’t done anything like this before. Something wasn’t right.
“But what do you want?” Again, you asked because you wanted to hear it, but you felt like he needed to say it to himself even more. You could almost see the fear in his eyes as your question lingered. You could feel him shaking underneath you, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about… or who.
“To be good…” His eyes only met yours for a second before they trailed down your body. His words were saying one thing, but his eyes were telling you another. Maybe you should help him out a little.
When you started getting closer, Jungkook thought you were going to kiss him. Maybe he wished you did, but what you ended up doing was even more unexpected. Your face grazed past his own and suddenly your lips were brushing against his neck. 
“Oh…” Jungkook felt his cheeks warm, and his hands were gripping your waist before he could stop them. 
You didn’t tease him for long, instead planting gentle, light, feathery kisses along his burning skin. His brain was shot the minute you stepped close, but like this, he was fighting so hard to stop himself from pulling you closer. You felt so good against him, so good, and it was already so hard.
“Y/n…” It came out like a whine and he didn’t mean it to. His eyes were watery, it hurt so much.
“Mhmm” Your voice was soft and—
“Y/n— I’ll wait— I promise, but I’m weak, and please— if you don’t want this… just please go easier on me.” Jungkook finally just cried. This was Yuri all over again. He didn’t want to disappoint you too, not another person. He didn’t need another person to hate him.
“But what about what you want?” You scooted closer, inches away from where he wanted you the most. He thought this would be the moment you’d get off, where you’d tell him to stop crying and scold his very existence. But you didn’t.
Your kisses slowed and you lingered on his skin for longer, lightly sucking spots you somehow discovered were sensitive. Jungkook gripped your hips hard, and he couldn’t stop himself from rutting up into you. It hurt so much, and Jungkook wanted nothing more than to touch you. This was just cruel.
“Y/n…” Jungkook cried, unable to stop the tears from spilling over.
You pulled back enough to see his face. You saw the tears and quickly leaned forward to kiss his cheek. He stared at you wide-eyed, still with that pained look on his face.
“Jungkook, you keep asking what I want, but I want to hear from you. What do you want?” You asked again, softly. You were pressing buttons he didn’t know he had. Why were you being so cruel?
A choked sob left his lips as he held onto your waist tightly. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t do this. 
Like you were sensing his struggle, you leaned in again and started planting languid kisses along his neck. He didn’t have much resilience anyway, paper-thin might even be an exaggeration with the way he was feeling. You were too close and he was too needy, the days of longing making it impossible to think straight, to resist like he knew he should.
“Y/n…” It came out as a moan as you subtly moved your hips against him. This was a warning, a warning that you clearly ignored because your pace grew faster with each glide of your hips.  Tears poured harder from his eyes.
“Do you want me to stop?” You asked when he still hadn’t said anything. 
Jungkook felt his body react faster than his mind did. His arms came up and tightly wrapped around your frame. The thought of you leaving when he felt like he was seconds away from exploding made him panic. 
You were pulled flush against his chest before you could even realize.
“I want you so bad— it hurts so much— please don’t leave me.” He sounded exasperated. He was shaking around you as you could feel the tears running down his face and hitting your cheek.
Shame washed over him as his words settled in the air. He was begging. How sad and pathetic he must have looked. He was all too sure that he’d already ruined things with you. 
You seemed to sense he was spiraling, so you were quick to press gentle kisses up his neck, across his jawline, and steadily made your way across his cheek to settle right beside his quivering lips. 
His sniffling grew quieter as you worked. Instead, soft moans that he was trying to hold back grew stifled and needier. When you made it to his lips, there was a moment of hesitation. But it was truly only for a moment as Jungkook didn’t allow for anymore, finally closing the distance between you.
It happened so fast, you both nearly bumped heads at the speed he moved, and you weren’t prepared for how vigorous his kiss was. Jungkook kissed you like his life depended on it, and in some sense, you feared it really did. 
You were quick getting into it though, matching his rhythm until your lips were moving together in sync. It just felt so right. 
That same warmth Jungkook felt deep down in his chest on that fateful night was back with an overwhelming force. He could have cried— scratch that, he was crying, but for an entirely different reason. 
Your lips were so soft, and with your arms wrapped around him… for a second, all the pain washed away. There was no one else in the world, no worries, it was just you and him together, alone in his office. This felt right in every way possible, and he couldn’t get you close enough. 
The kiss was wet, hot, and you were so needy your body felt like it might burst into flames within a split second. It was destructive and consumed you both so quickly that you had no chance of coming to your senses. This was a bad idea, but you’d think about that later. Instead, you eagerly ground down onto him, making him softly moan into your lips. 
His hands rested on your waist, and you could feel his fleeting attempts to touch you more, but it was like something was holding him back. You pulled away and he really was too pretty, your lipstick was all over his face, his lips shiny and stained red.
“Do you want this?” He suddenly asked, out of breath. For a second his question didn’t even register, because what?
“I don’t… I don’t want you to think I’m forcing you into this. I’ll wait, you could even walk away entirely if you aren’t comfortable doing this.” He spoke with round, sad eyes like he really was concerned. But you could still feel him throbbing underneath you. How he was this hard over a little teasing… you honestly worried for his pants at how well you could feel his aching length. 
“Jungkook…” You sighed, lifting your hand to move his messy bangs away from his eyes. You could see his face a little better and it hurt seeing how red it was, stained with tears, and a sad look behind his dark gaze. 
You leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to his cheek before moving your lips right by his ear. 
“Would I be in your lap otherwise?” So soft and sultry in his ear. And he moaned, not holding back at all, completely forgetting you both were still in a public setting. He could have cum just from that alone. But he didn’t care, he was seconds away from losing his mind if something didn’t happen soon.
And then you were back to peppering kisses along his neck, this time going full force at sucking at the skin. 
“Ahhh! Y/n— please!” He hissed, letting the tears fall from his eyes. He was going to explode, he was going to explode, please, please just touch him. 
Jungkook didn’t wait for you to progress things further. He couldn’t find it in himself to be patient. Instead, his hands quickly moved down your waist, the arch of your back, and settled onto the curve of your ass, groping and feeling with a hurried need. 
The motion made you gasp, easily allowing him to slip his tongue inside. It was completely unexpected, especially considering how timid he’d been acting so far, you definitely weren’t prepared. He was the one in control now. It was his tongue that was exploring every inch of your mouth fervently. It was hot and heavy, with a desperation you hadn’t felt since you were a teenager. Your hands cupped his cheeks before tightly tangling in his hair, somehow trying to pull him closer. It was this antsy, erupting feeling. You both hidden away from the world while you tried your best to contain yourselves in a public setting. You could feel his excitement through his suit pants which he tried to hide while pulling you closer at the same time. 
“Oh fuck.” He softly moaned into the kiss as your hands found their rightful place in his long, dark hair. You pulled and tugged on the strands, enjoying the soft whines of pleasure Jungkook let out underneath you. 
It was happening so fast, yet not fast enough. Any time you attempted to pull away, he held you closer in his arms. It was hard to keep up, but you weren’t prepared for the heat to consume you so quickly, you felt like you were doused in gasoline. It was insane, and you wanted so much more with each brush of his lips against yours.
You were so in the moment that you weren’t prepared for his hands to go lower, slipping under your skirt to hastily pull it up around your waist. For a moment, it didn’t even register until you began to feel the cold breeze against the newly exposed skin. It was at this that you finally pulled away. 
For a brief moment, Jungkook tried to stop you, but then you felt the building confidence quickly leave his body as he realized something was wrong. He stared up at you, the shininess in his eyes returning all too quickly.
“I—I’m sorry…” His voice was shaking.
“Don’t apologize—”
“I’ll wait, I’m sorry. I’m rushing things, I’m sorry…” It’s like he wasn’t listening all over again as he shakily tried to pull your skirt back down. 
It was then that you realized how this might have looked. 
“It’s not that— it’s just… I know it’s a little hard to forget, but we’re in public… in your office.” You pointed out, and you saw Jungkook’s face grow red as he looked around. It seemed like he really did forget where you were.
“I’m sorry—” He cried, letting go of you entirely. 
“No— we don’t need to stop. Going all the way might not be the best idea, especially in a room without a lock, but I was thinking we could do something a little quicker.” You smiled gently at him. Jungkook was visibly confused at this, so you took this as your cue to slip off his lap and onto your knees right in front of him. 
“Will this work for you?” You smiled up at him mischievously, hoping he got the picture. But for some reason he still was staring down at you with those round eyes that made him look so innocent and… confused?
“What are you doing?” His voice was so small. Your hand was resting on his lap, so close to where he wanted you, and just— why did you have to get off of him?
It was your turn to be confused. 
“You know…” You lightly laughed, thinking this might be some type of joke, but Jungkook still maintained the same perplexed gaze. It was then that your face dropped. Suddenly the possibility of him actually being confused ran through your head.
“You do know what a blowjob is, right?” You were a bit blunt, but honestly you were expecting him to laugh at you. A funny joke in the heat of the moment to make you smile, but instead of the giggle you were expecting, you suddenly watched him get flustered.
“Right…?” You asked again, growing weary. 
“Uh— I do— did? I didn’t think they were a real thing people actually do…” His voice just grew smaller as he looked down at you. He quickly got the picture that wasn’t normal.
You immediately had so many questions. You were the same age, yet….? How, how did this happen? Did someone tell him that? No guy would ever think that without some type of influence. That also meant he probably wasn’t the most experienced, as far as partners go, because you highly doubt people came into his life and never once tried sucking his dick or at least offered. The other day Jungkook did mention he’s only been with his wife, and an uneasy shudder ran through your body as you mentally started connecting the dots. 
“Um— Jungkook, if you’re not comfortable, we could—” 
“No, please! Please don’t stop— I… please…” He cried, grabbing onto your hand that was sitting in his lap, but immediately he was horrified in himself, realizing he was begging again. Yuri always hated that so much. 
“I mean— I mean…” His eyes grew watery. “It just hurts so much…” Jungkook wanted to fuck you on top of his desk again, he was only a moment away from picking you up and doing just that. 
“If you’re comfortable, I won’t stop.” You gave him a warm smile, careful not to frighten or overwhelm him, along with a gentle, reassuring squeeze to his thigh to keep him relatively calm.
Jungkook subtly, but not so subtly, tried to move himself closer to your hand. He was hardly paying attention, his mind completely enthralled with needing some type of relief. He’d take anything at this point.
“Jungkook?” You questioned when he still hadn’t responded.
“P-Please…!” He stammered out, seeing how close your hand was. Just a little closer and he could…
You looked down and noticed his efforts, making you chuckle. “Alright then, I’ll be quick. Just let me know when you’re close.”
Again, he wasn’t paying as much attention as he should, but suddenly his eyes went wide as you lightly began running your hands up his thighs. Jungkook moaned at the touch as you ran over the very obvious outline in his slacks. Anything at this point felt so intense. He just needed more.
You were quick to give him just that. As you reached up to start undoing his belt, he finally had to look away, knowing what was coming next. 
You went a little slow, not to just tease him, but to give him a chance to turn back if he got uncomfortable at any moment. You were too fascinated by how tiny his waist looked to notice his growing panic.
Jungkook wanted to scream when you started to unzip his pants— he wanted more, but he was terrified. As he felt you pull him out from his underwear, his eyes grew watery, not needing to look down to feel your gaze. You were staring at him. 
Things were different from the last time. While he had the blinds closed and the lights were low, he knew there was still more than enough light to see him. A wave of anxiety washed over him faster than a tsunami, the dread of your judgment completely taking him out of the moment. He’d only been with two people before. The fear of it not looking right or not being up to your standards was still very real and alive. Maybe that was the reason Yuri didn’t want him, and you have probably experienced so much better— you deserve so much better than anything he could give you— 
His thoughts were spiraling, but you were quick to step in once again, noticing he’d grown tense underneath you. 
You directed your attention to his length that you had firmly grasped in your hand. You marveled at being able to see it in its full glory unlike last time. It was pretty and practically had you drooling, leaving you more than excited to see how it feels in your mouth. It was firm in your grasp and it curved slightly towards the flaming red tip, and you had to stop yourself from moaning at the delicious vein running along the side. 
You stared, maybe for too long, at the way it bopped at the slightest movements and gently started leaking precum onto your hand, steadily dripping to create a small puddle that ran down your skin. Staring wasn’t the right thing to do considering how self-conscious he seemed ,and it took you way too long to look up and see his attention on the ceiling with wet streaks running down his cheeks.
“You’re so pretty, don’t you know that?” You smiled as you slowly started to pump his length. The action was enough to make Jungkook look down at you, moaning at your words, and fuck— The sight was enough to send him to a new dimension and back. You had moved closer so your face was right by where he needed you, and you were touching him so well—
“Y/n…” It was a hushed sob. Any louder and he was scared he’d scream. His tears were now streaming for an entirely different reason. It was quick and all these emotions were swirling around in his head. It was too much and he wanted you to stop it.
Your strokes were slow, but it really didn’t take much. It had been too long, too much running away and edging; he just wanted relief.
“Y/n—” He cried again, this time more desperate. He was shaking.   
You put him out of his misery only slightly as you used your thumb to rub over the slit and marveled at the way more precum continued to leak over your finger with each swipe.
“Oh— fuck.” He whined, shifting around so you’d touch him more. His hands were balled into tight fists as he watched you, knuckles turning white in the process. Part of him wanted to look away in shame, but you commanded his attention in a way that he couldn’t turn anywhere else. 
You met his shameful gaze as you looked up at him with glistening eyes, and Jungkook hated how much he wanted to ruin you all over again. Leave you a mess so his colleagues could see how horrible he was. 
Jungkook was on edge and you had barely touched him. You could tell he was growing antsy, so you finally moved so that you were mere centimeters away from his pleading cock. The sight alone could have made him cum. You, staring up at him with eager, excited eyes, and as he looked down at you, a guttural sound escaped his lips before he could catch it. 
There was only a moment of hesitation, a moment that dragged on for eternity. With your gaze, you were waiting to see if he had any doubts about continuing, but Jungkook held on with bated breath, giving no signs of wanting to stop. 
He was a little confused… no, that wasn’t right… anxious? He hardly had a clue what to expect. He knew what a blowjob was… kinda? He knew what they were from videos he saw when he was younger, but everyone always talked about how exaggerated they were. He had no idea what a real blow job was like and what to expect. How long had it been since the thought even crossed his mind? He couldn’t remember anymore.
Jungkook was in his head again, but the very sudden feeling of your tongue quickly swiping across the tip briskly jolted him back into the moment, making him nearly jump out of his chair. 
Oh.
He didn’t even realize he had said it out loud, and at a volume that was far too loud, until the soft sounds of your chuckles got his attention. 
“Can’t be too loud~” You smiled, and Jungkook felt his whole body set ablaze with an inferno he wasn’t prepared for in the slightest. 
“Just let me know when you’re close—” you reminded him once again. He wondered if you could tell he wouldn’t last long. You would be right. “Sit back, relax. I’ll take care of you.” You smiled. 
Jungkook had to take a moment to stare at you. Your eyes shone from his desk lamp, your lipstick had already started to smear across your lips from your heated activities earlier, and your hair grew more disheveled by the second. Your invitation to relax and let you essentially take care of him made shivers run up his spine, and he couldn’t nod for you to continue any faster. 
He listened to your advice and finally leaned back in his office chair, waiting for you to have your way with him. The moment he got more comfortable, you were back on him, his cock in hand as you leaned in once again to give a teasing lick to the tip. 
Ohhhhhh—
He didn’t mean to, but you were teasing him too much. You probably thought it was pathetic how he practically chased after your mouth when you pulled away. It wasn’t long before you were back though, slowly swirling your tongue around the tip, tasting the salty precum that continued to leak with each swipe of your tongue, while looking intently at his antsy reactions.
“Ahhhh! Please—” Jungkook had tears in his eyes as he pleaded for you. He felt like he was going to lose his mind. This, fuck— this—
He probably had imprints on his hands from his nails at how tightly he had balled up his fists. Jungkook looked down at you, not wanting to rush you or beg, but he felt like he was at his limit.
Finally, you put him out of his misery. It came unexpectedly. Your gentle licks turned into you engulfing the tip with your mouth. You were slow. You didn’t want to overwhelm him considering this was meant to be his first time.
“Oh, fu—” Jungkook quickly covered his mouth. His fist tightened to the point he could feel his nails digging into his skin. His tears finally spilled as the overwhelming pleasure washed over him as you tried to take more of him down. It was new, a euphoria he had never experienced before, seeing you on your knees pleasing him, taking him so well… it was too sinful to be allowed. And you just kept going, further and further down and—
“Wai—oh my go—” Jungkook tried to whisper, but he was way too loud. He was going to cum. It was like he was suddenly pushed to the edge. He knew he was close, but not that close. 
“Oh—” He moaned. Your mouth was so warm, wet, and inviting. It reminded him too much of the fleeting memory of what it felt like to be inside you. Jungkook quickly had to shut his eyes, focusing all his concentration on not having this end so soon after you just started. The embarrassment— he couldn’t do that to you. But—
“Fuck!”
You went as far as you could before steadily easing back and popping off him to see how he took it. You knew he had been shaking, but you weren’t prepared for his look of distress. 
“You ok?” You lightly chuckle, caressing his thigh— and, woah, were you in for a surprise feeling how firm they were. How much did this boy work out?
You watched as tears slipped from his eyes. “Umm-mm-m,” his voice was shaky as he finally opened his eyes to look at you.
“Can— can you go slow? I won’t make it two seconds otherwise…” He was quiet and sounded out of breath already. His round cheeks were flushed and he could barely look you in the eye.
“It’s all about you. Don’t worry about it too much. Like I told you, sit back and relax. You can let go whenever you’re ready.” You smiled. All you wanted him to do was relax and enjoy it. He seemed so tense, he always seemed so tense. You couldn’t imagine what he must be going through for him to practically be in pieces, always on the verge of tears any time you’d just look at him.
Even now… You finally noticed his tightly balled fist, and he just seemed so tense— too tense for someone who was about to get sucked off. You quickly wrapped one hand around his length again and used the other to grab one of his fists and place it on your head. 
You didn’t want him to think too much, so you quickly took him into your mouth again. He must have understood what you meant because his hand was suddenly in your hair, and electricity ran through your body at the satisfying moan he let out. It was loud, almost like it was meant for anyone to hear. For a moment, you forgot you were in his office in the middle of everyone’s lunch break. That anyone could walk in at any time if you weren’t careful. It seemed you weren’t the only one. 
The moment was short-lived. Jungkook quickly brought his hand back over his mouth to stop himself from making any more noise. The moan caught in his throat was muffled, but you could still sense the urgency in his tone without hearing him fully.  
Each time you bobbed your head up and down, his reactions fueled you to push further. Jungkook was trying to be subtle, you could tell, and it was almost cute how soft he was. Your hand wrapped around his length to stroke whatever your mouth couldn’t take. He whimpered underneath you each time your lips came down around him, and you picked up on the cute way he lightly gripped your hair with each movement you made. It was so subtle, careful not to squeeze too hard, but you could feel when he wanted more.
Jungkook couldn’t even comprehend the emotions flowing through his body, all new sensations that made every touch you gave him feel so intense. He was barely making it as it was, but this was so new, and he just couldn’t—
“Y/n— I’m close…” He sobbed. He felt worse when you stopped momentarily to look at him because you had barely started. You were only a few strokes in and he had tried his best to push past and enjoy it as long as possible, but it was already too much, and—
“I’m sorry…” He cried, that creeping embarrassment washing over him with vigor. He was prepared for you to say something demeaning. Mocking that he could hardly last, that he was a disappointment, that you regretted doing this with him. He was ready for the painful words he’d grown so used to lately, but they never came as you popped off him with a smile. 
“Let go whenever you’re ready.” Your eyes were warm, and for a second he felt all fuzzy inside because it was more compassion than he deserved. 
He felt his eyes grow watery, but right before you were about to finish him off, a sound Jungkook recognized too well filled the emptiness of his office. The blaring ring of the phone that sat on his desk made you both freeze. In an instant, the thin veil you both wore over your eyes, shielding you from the outside world, was ripped away. 
You and Jungkook just stared at each other. An intense fear came over the both of you, but in the moment, Jungkook knew he had to act. He hurriedly tried to pull himself together enough so he could answer the call. With a worried glance sent in your direction, Jungkook slowly picked up the phone.
“H-Hello?” His voice cracked, the strain from all the crying earlier taking its toll at the worst time possible.
“Oh— sir, are you ok?” It was Secretary Yu. 
“Yeah— I’m fine. Is something up?” Jungkook rushed her. With the reassurance it was just his secretary and not an executive, an uncontrollable anger started boiling over at something coming in the way of his relief…
“I’m sorry to interrupt you! I know you’re on your lunch break, but Director Lee is here to see you about a supposed emergency.” Her tone sounded like she felt bad, but Jungkook was more focused on what she said.
He looked down at you, staring wide-eyed at him, waiting for the news.
“Um— can you just tell him to come back later?” Jungkook threaded his fingers through his hair, stressed and unable to hide the annoyance in his voice any longer.
“He says it’s urgent.” She already had an answer, knowing her boss well.
“Fuck.” Jungkook groaned as quietly as he could. It was crude language for work, but his secretary was used to it by now, often on the receiving end of frustrated rants when censoring himself was the least of his concerns. 
“Can you give us—  me a few minutes?” A slip of the tongue, remembering he was technically the only one supposed to be in here. Luckily, she didn’t seem to notice. 
“Of course, just call back when you’re ready.” And with that, she hung up and the countdown began.
As soon as she was gone, Jungkook resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room. Of course the one day he wasn’t in here by himself, Director Lee just had to show up. It probably wasn’t even an actual emergency. He had a habit of doing this from time to time in order for an excuse to speak to Jungkook, and of course this “emergency” had to happen today.
Jungkook looked down at you and debated whether or not there was any conceivable possibility of finishing before Director Lee came in. He was already so close, just a little longer and he’d be putty in your hands.
“What’s going on?” You finally asked when he hadn’t said anything.
“Director Lee’s outside. He says it’s an emergency.” Jungkook felt like crying. He was so close. 
You looked around, panicked, because there was no way you looked presentable, and Jungkook looked more than a little disheveled with his shiny lips and your lipstick all over his face. Instead of thinking about it too much, you hurriedly got to your feet, knees a little shaky from being on them for so long, but that didn’t stop you as you quickly tried to help clean Jungkook up. 
He looked up at you with wide eyes as you used your fingers to wipe away the red stains littered all over his cheeks, lips, and neck. His eyes were glossy and you had to resist the urge to kiss that look off his face knowing that would just leave marks again, but you let your thumb lightly caress his cheek.
“I’m not going anywhere. I promise I’ll finish when he leaves.” You reassured him as you tried to help fix his ruffled hair, moving the strands back in place and out of his eyes. 
Jungkook’s heart hammered in his chest so hard he was almost sure you could hear it. His mind was a mess, and the affection just made him want you even more. He would give anything to have you bent over his desk right now. 
He looked presentable, at least enough so that in the dim light hopefully Director Lee wouldn’t question anything. You, though… Where were you going to hide? You looked around.
Your first instinct was to hide behind the blinds, but that would never work in a million years. There was really nowhere in his office you could hide without it being incredibly ridiculous except…
“You think I could fit under there?” You asked quickly, pointing to the spot underneath Jungkook’s desk. It would be a tight fit, but there weren’t any better options.
Jungkook moved out of the way, and with a little maneuvering as you tried your best to find the most comfortable position, you were able to slide underneath. In the meantime, Jungkook went through the painful process of trying to tuck himself back into his pants.
He had tears in his eyes as he struggled for a moment. It was so hard, he was so hard, that at this point trying to get himself back in was more than a task. And his touch… anything could have set him off, but he worked carefully so he wouldn’t end up making a mess in his hands. He couldn’t disappoint you. But it hurt. It hurt so much that at this point, he just had to make do with leaving his pants unzipped because no way in hell he would be able to get them closed. 
With you squished under his desk and he now looking normal enough for this short meeting, Jungkook took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves as he scooched closer to his desk. 
“You— you ok down there?” He asked quickly. 
“Yeah, just don’t be too long.” You called out. Jungkook spread his legs a little wider to give you more room.
It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but at least the view made up for it. 
“I’ll try and make this quick. I’m so sorry…” Jungkook sighed, evidently frustrated. Of all days, this had to happen when he had been so close… so fucking close. Director Lee better have an actual emergency. He had a habit of coming in and claiming “emergencies” when really, he just wanted to talk. Jungkook knew what he was doing, trying to get into his favor in hopes of getting into his dad’s good graces, hoping for a promotion soon or after Jungkook was meant to take over. 
It was annoying under normal circumstances, but if he was trying to do the same thing now… Jungkook took a few deep breaths to calm himself before finally picking up the phone again. 
“Hey… yeah, you can send him in, but please tell him I’m busy and to make it quick.” You intently listened to his words and while Jungkook had tried to stay calm, you could still clearly hear the agitation in his voice.
It was cute. Maybe a little hot too? You shook the thought out of your head, not liking it at all. 
With bated breath, you listened to the sound of the door creek open and the hurried clicks of dress shoes slowly coming closer to the desk. Director Lee was alright in your opinion. He was one of the executives in marketing, but you weren’t sure exactly what he did. He was fine at his job, but he would talk for hours about the most obscure thing. You hadn’t really talked to him much, just seen him at the few meetings you’d attended so far as another executive, but hopefully—
“Head Director Jeon!” Director Lee’s cheerful voice rang out. Jungkook had tried to make himself look busy, quickly shaking his computer awake and mindlessly scrolling over some random document he had open before his breakdown. 
Jungkook almost rose to his feet on instinct, ready to greet him with a polite bow, but luckily he caught himself before the situation ended less than favorable. Instead, he kept himself busy before finally meeting Director Lee’s eyes. 
“Director Lee! I’m sorry for the wait.” Jungkook tried to smile as the man himself came over, bowing quickly before taking a seat on one of the chairs in front of his desk. 
Great. That likely meant this wouldn’t take only two seconds. Jungkook just hoped that wasn’t the case, nor did he notice the lack of greeting.
“I’m sorry to bother you when you’re busy, but there were just a few questions I had from marketing for you.” Director Lee smiled, and Jungkook let out a sigh of relief knowing this was actually about work. 
You were somewhat listening. You picked up on a few things you’d hear marketing discuss in the meetings you attended, but most of it went over your head. You honestly had hoped that this was only going to be a few questions, but you were always wrong. 
At some point, Jungkook briefly mentioned wanting to travel. They had been discussing something about the EU branch located in Germany, leading to Director Lee talking about the time he took his family there when he was on a business trip. Jungkook had quickly mentioned his desire to travel more, and then suddenly he was being handed Director Lee’s phone to look through all the pictures of the Lee family during their trips to all these faraway places. 
Although Jungkook did a good job at remaining calm in front of Director Lee, you could see the way his leg bounced restlessly as he listened to the director talk about the time his family went to Budapest from your position underneath the desk. You wanted to calm him down a little and without thinking too deeply, you placed a reassuring hand on his thigh, gently running your hand along it, letting him know you were still here. 
You hadn’t been paying too much attention to their conversation. After all, it wasn’t meant to be one you were a part of, and you tried your best to give them a little privacy. But right in that moment, you noticed the way Jungkook stopped talking momentarily about business trips as your hand trailed up his leg, before slowly dragging back into the conversation. 
Oh. You liked that a little too much.
Your reassurance was only meant to be quick, a very brief reminder that you were here, but you kept going, your hand going up further, up his thigh to where his open zipper laid. For a brief moment, you considered stopping. Director Lee was right there, but as you started pulling your hand away, suddenly another was wrapped around your wrist stopping your movements. 
It took a moment to realize it was Jungkook. You stared for a while, his tight grip fleeting as he lightly placed your hand back on his thigh, all while he continued on with Director Lee. It was just enough to give you the confidence to go further. Luckily Jungkook made it easy for you.
You were a little too eager slipping into his pants, pulling him out ever so gently, and feeling him in your grasp again. Jungkook immediately had his hand around your wrist the minute your fingers brushed against him. 
It was a warning, a fleeting one, one you could tell even he wasn’t sure about. For a moment you were sure his hand was trying to pull you closer. 
You had some common sense— you had no intention of getting him so riled up that Director Lee would walk around the desk to see you cramped underneath Jungkook’s desk playing with his cock. As much as you’d love to watch him squirm while he tried his best to remain composed, you also wanted to walk out of here with a job. You knew your limits.
You were subtle at first, You watched and listened intently as your thumb lightly traced over the tip. You got another instant reaction, his hand quickly tightening around your wrist, and you heard his voice waver slightly. 
Your efforts were slow and controlled. You didn’t want him to scream, but you did want him to feel it. Slow light touches grazed up his skin, so delicate, as you made sure he’d never forget you were here. It was nice, as he returned faint squeezes around your wrist. 
“You and your wife should come with us one day!” Director Lee bellowed out with a hearty laugh after Jungkook faintly wished he could have been there for that experience. The conversation had moved to Alaska and the Northern Lights now… you had no idea how they got on that topic. You were startled slightly by the sudden outburst. Your hand slipped and suddenly his fingers were laced in your hair and underneath the laughter, your ears instantly locked onto a subtle moan. 
Jungkook was quick to cover it with a cough that Director Lee seemingly didn’t notice. At this point, you feared you had gone a little too far accidently. You were going to call it quits until Director Lee left, but as your grip loosened, suddenly his hand was on your wrist again stopping you in your tracks. 
He didn’t want you to stop, and you wanted to please him. 
You pushed past your hesitation, instead deciding to get even more bold. You leaned forward enough to the point you were face to face with his weeping cock once again. You took it in your hand and lightly ran your tongue along the tip. You were instantly rewarded with his hand lacing into your hair, and you wished you could have seen his face. 
You listened to the way his breathing grew heavier with each swipe of your tongue. You also noticed the subtle way he’d try to keep your head down longer any time you came up. As wrong as it might be, it was hot, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, so was he. 
He was painfully hot, so hot you once again found yourself wondering how you didn’t notice sooner. You honestly probably didn’t want to, your hatred blinding you from both his suffering and anguish as well as his… nice composition. That wasn’t entirely true… you knew that he was conventionally attractive, maybe a little more so than most, but looks meant nothing when he was being petty to you. Now that you were exposed to the cracks in his façade, you could push past your turbulent history and acknowledge the fact you understood the stares he received when he’d walk around the office and the swooning no matter his questionable leadership. You got it more than anyone now that you’d gotten a glimpse behind his sad gaze. 
Unfortunately, you understood it too much. Watching him try not to fall apart in front of the director made the ache between your legs apparent, and you wanted nothing more than to take him right there in his office. But this wasn’t about you; it was about him. You wanted that sad look behind his eyes to disappear, even just for a second. But later tonight you just might need to revisit an old friend you kept in your bottom drawer. A reunion was more than necessary at this point.
Curse him.
•────•──────────•────•
Jungkook should have stopped you, he knew that. This was embarrassing, the highest level of inappropriate he could have achieved, but he felt like he’d reached such a breaking point that he simply didn’t care. All he could think about was the orgasm that he was on the verge of having before you were interrupted. The minute you had your hand on him he never wanted it to leave. 
At this point, he was this close to screaming at Director Lee to leave. But he rambled on and on about all the excursions he took his family on whenever he got some time off. Jungkook tried his best to smile and nod along whenever he made eye contact, but the minute you had your tongue running along him, he could barely keep it together. 
Jungkook wondered how Director Lee hadn’t noticed. He wasn’t doing a good job hiding that something was up. Jungkook was struggling to keep his eyes open as your lips wrapped around him with the subtle flicks of your hand. At this point, Director Lee probably thought he had some type of cold by how much he had to cough to stop himself from moaning out for you to make him cum. 
He felt delirious, like he was looking over the precipice of a high-rise and the world around him started to spin as he tried to make out the ground down below. He was so close. So close to finally getting the release he’d been craving for days. So close, but of fucking course Director Lee just had to come into his office now.
“I’m sure Ms. Han would love Barcelona!” For some reason, Director Lee had already started planning out a trip that Yuri and him were meant to join with his family. Jungkook practically had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying that the last thing he wanted to think about was Yuri when he had you underneath his desk pleasing him so well. He didn’t want to think of anything; no work, no business, he just wanted to cum… why was that so hard?!
“I’m sure she—she—she… would.” Your tongue had licked right over the slit and he was horrible at pretending he wasn’t on the verge of losing it. You felt so good.
Your efforts weren’t enough to get him to cum yet, something he felt was intentional. But the longer he had to stare at Director Lee’s face, the more he was starting to care less and less about the world around him. He just wanted—
Please.
“It’s honestly beautiful— I went there when I was fifteen. It was a high school trip I’m pretty sure, and—” Blah blah blah, if he wasn’t out of his face in the next two minutes…
He didn’t want to hear about this trip. Spending any time with Director Lee outside of a work context felt like a nightmare. Jungkook knew that he’d probably end up spending less time with Yuri than Director Lee, talking his head off about some random thing he’s convinced they have in common. It maybe wouldn’t be so bad if Jungkook didn’t know his type as well as he did. It was all an attempt at trying to fast-track a promotion. Director Lee probably didn’t care about him at all, or the things they had in common, and would actually hate for Yuri and him to be there on his family trip. This conversation was pointless.
“And we’d have to go hiking across the… sights are so beautiful… the pictures I took were—”
“O-oohhh-oh…” It was a quiet, hushed moan and Jungkook quickly had to blink away the tears that had started to settle in his eyes at the strain of keeping it together. You had finally taken the whole tip and Jungkook was just getting worse and worse at covering up his moans. The cough that followed was a little slow, and he probably sounded in as much pain as he felt.
He wanted to see you, wanted to touch you.
“Head Director Jeon, are you ok?” Director Lee feigned concerned. He always insisted on calling him his full title instead of the more casual “Director Jeon” that everyone else used and he preferred. He would even choose the awkward “Mr. Jeon,” despite it making him feel weird since he was younger than the majority of the staff he worked with, over the full title. He hated people using it for no other reason than it always just felt like just an attempt to get in his good graces.
“Fine— just…” deep breaths… “The cold’s started to get to me slightly…” Jungkook tried to laugh, but his eyes were getting watery. He probably looked like a mess. He wanted you to make him into an even bigger one than he already was. 
“Oh! If you’re sick, I know a great tea recipe that would—” Jungkook couldn’t pay attention any longer than two seconds. He couldn’t stop imagining what might happen the minute Director Lee left, what you might do, and the blissful release afterward. He just wanted you, please, please, please…
He couldn’t do this anymore.
“— Director Lee, I’m sorry to interrupt, but—” it hurts so much “but I’m pretty busy today…” Jungkook tried to be nice, but he really was worried what he might do if Director Lee wasn’t out the door in the next five seconds.
Director Lee looked shocked for a second. He wasn’t expecting that. Usually Jungkook would always put up with his bullshit even though he despised the mooching, but today any longer and Jungkook would seriously cause a scene. 
Jungkook attempted to put on the best, most apologetic smile he could muster as the Director processed his words. 
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry. Your secretary mentioned you were busy before I came in.” Jungkook nearly jumped for joy when Director Lee finally got up from the chair in front of him. 
Director Lee bowed politely and Jungkook once again had to resist the urge to get up and bear him a respectful farewell, but that was out of the question right now. Instead, Jungkook bowed his head slightly, hoping the director wouldn’t think too much of it.
“I’ll be in contact about how things go at the US branch,” Director Lee mentioned and Jungkook had nearly forgotten that he had first come in with an actual reason. Aside from discussing some things about marketing, Director Lee had wanted to go over some information before he left for the US branch tomorrow, and that’s how they ended up talking about travel. It was then when Director Lee mentioned how his family just came back from London and he was flying out again.
Jungkook only nodded, nervous that if he spoke at this point the only thing that would come out was an embarrassing plea for you to make him cum. But to his delight, Jungkook watched Director Lee make his way to the door. You must have heard him leaving because the minute the sounds of his footsteps echoed off the marble floors, you quickly kicked it up five notches, finally putting Jungkook out of his misery and taking him down your throat again. 
Jungkook’s eyes fluttered closed as he took it all in. Your mouth brought so many new sensations, he was having trouble keeping up. It felt good, and deep down he selfishly relished in it all. 
“Have a good day, Head Director Jeon.” Director Lee bowed and Jungkook wanted to scream at him to leave, but instead he sent another pained smile and a slight wave his way. 
When he heard the door close, Jungkook let his head fall to his desk. Silent besides the now obvious sounds of you shifting underneath the desk. It hurt so much, he just wanted to—
“Please, please, please make me cum!” A hushed sob escaped as the tears finally spilled from his eyes. He was shameless and his ears felt hot with embarrassment, but for a moment he didn’t care, he just wanted to cum. 
He felt you gently tap his leg and he finally remembered that you were cramped down there. He quickly rolled his chair back, giving you the opportunity to climb out from under the desk. He watched with hungry eyes as you stretched your tense limbs. Even fully clothed, just watching your body move under your blouse was more than enough to make him lose his mind. 
Get it together, Jeon. But he couldn’t, he wanted you so badly— his watery eyes stared as you moved back into a comfortable position between his legs. 
“Please— please— I’m so close.” He cried. 
You looked at him with those kind eyes and gave him a warm smile that tingled more than just his heart. 
“I got you, just let go when you’re ready.” You didn’t even give him a chance to answer before you took him in completely. Jungkook couldn’t stop the moan that fell his lips at the warmth and wetness your mouth provided. It was amazing, you were amazing, you always were. Your pace was quick this time, sensing his urgency. It was probably only a few seconds before that growing feeling returned, this time with no plans of stopping. 
“C-close!” Jungkook hurried out, but he feared you couldn’t understand him with how mangled it came out.
Jungkook let one hand tangle in your hair, needing to grab ahold of something, while the other came over his mouth to stop himself from screaming. For a second, he worried if he was doing this right, was he embarrassing himself right now? Did you hate him? Did you resent him for pulling you into this? This was all so new, he didn’t want to mess things up, but he couldn’t think clearly and hardly had the capacity to care right now.
Jungkook finally found the strength to look down, the sight of you taking him so well caused sparks to run through his body, making it impossible to delay the inevitable.
“Your mouth!” It came out a little louder than he wanted it to, but it was meant to be a warning. He was close, and if you didn’t move away soon then… He thought you’d move off of him, maybe finish him off by hand, but instead you sped up your pace despite his warning. For a second, Yuri flashed in his head, and the sheer utter fear of disappointing you like he’d done to her so many times came crashing down like a wave in a storm. 
As he sped toward the edge, he tried his best to delay it until you could get off of him. Yuri would hate the mess and he feared your reaction— no, he had to last just a little longer—
“Y/n, I’m serious, I’m—” His efforts were fruitless. The tears in his eyes finally spilled over; the pleasure and the guilt grew overwhelming. His body was on fire, and the sheer relief of having you this close made the end come all too quickly.
Jungkook kept his hand clamped over his mouth, but his attempt was futile as moans still slipped from his lips. They were muffled, nonsensical, and sounded as pained as he felt, the blinding hot release spreading throughout his entire body and ultimately into your mouth. Tears ran down his cheeks, his grip in your hair growing tighter as you steadily worked him through his orgasm.
“Fu—oh—go—fuck.” There weren’t words to describe how good he felt.
He could feel his release paint your mouth, a horrible mix of shame and something else he didn’t want to admit bubbling in the depths of his mind. His whole body shook, even after what felt like an endless stream of his release filled your mouth. Wave after wave of tears just kept coming because finally… fucking finally.
He momentarily forgot where you both were and who he was. It just felt so good to forget. It was the freedom he craved when he was alone sometimes. But this was wrong, he knew it was.
As the wave started to die down, instead of a graceful landing, he practically crashed with how quickly new tears started spilling from his eyes. His muffled moans turned into sobs and he couldn’t bear to look down at you. He didn’t want to see your disappointment. You were already so kind, and he just had to go and ruin it because he couldn’t wait until you had moved off of him. 
“Jungkook, you ok?” Your voice was laced with concern as he felt your hand running along his thigh.
“I’m sorry!” Jungkook just sobbed. His face was wet, and his hair was soaked with tears and sweat. He knew he looked like a mess.
There was a moment of silence while you tried to rack your brain for what he was talking about. “Why are you sorry?” You were so gentle, hating how upset he seemed. 
“I tried to— I tried to wait— I’m so sorry!” He choked out, trying to be quiet as Secretary Yu was right outside, but the shame that crept over his body made it hard to stay in control.
You looked notably shocked.
“I told you that you could cum whenever you were ready,” you chuckled, rubbing his leg gently. 
“That’s not— your mouth… I came inside— I’m sorry.” Jungkook finally looked down and you could see just how distraught he seemed, the wetness around his eyes more than heartbreaking. Finding a little strength, you finally rose to your feet. Your knees were achy, but you persevered so you could face him a little better. 
You took the initiative and brought your finger up to his chin so he’d look at you. His eyes were shiny, red, and filled with a sadness you couldn’t quite comprehend. This wasn’t how this was meant to end.
“You don’t need to apologize for something I wanted.” You gently rubbed your thumb along his wet cheek. Your cheeks burned from the confession, but you were glad you said it when you saw the tension fall from his soft features. 
“H-huh?” 
“Maybe I should have asked, but I thought it was best to avoid any mess.” Might he have preferred it more if he painted your face? The image in your mind made your face even hotter, not exactly against the idea if you didn’t have to worry about walking out in front of your coworkers.
“I thought I messed up already… made you disappointed, that you— you’d hate me too.” Just the word hate made his eyes watery all over again. He’d heard it too many times from Yuri, and he was sure it wouldn’t be long before he heard it from you too.
It was then you realized what he was referring to, that he thought somehow cumming in your mouth was a mistake he made? It was crazy and reaffirmed that Jungkook was telling the truth when he said it was his first time having someone go down on him. But that was the least of your worries, instead, the harsh words he’d expected as retribution stood out to you more than anything. The truth of the reasoning behind his sad eyes, why his dimpled smile never appeared anymore, and the sense of what might be happening behind closed doors grew more terrifying the more he spoke to you. 
“Just wanted you to feel good— I can’t hate you for that.” You smiled, and you were a little shocked when you suddenly felt his hands on your waist pull you closer.
“Did it feel good?” You giggled at the affection, but your face was burning. This isn’t what you expected from him. 
Instead of answering, Jungkook tugged you down onto his lap and wrapped his arms around your frame, pulling you into a tight embrace. 
“Thank you…” He shakily sighed. You couldn’t truly understand the relief you brought him. It was his gratitude for everything— for being here with him, for putting up with his pathetic desperation, for making the thoughts that clouded his mind dissipate for only a second, and the list could go on really. You seriously were as amazing as he imagined. 
“I didn’t know… it just— it felt so good, thank you… thank you.” He sweetly mumbled into your blouse. You would have never pictured Jungkook as the affectionate type, and your body and mind were struggling to keep up. You tried your best to ignore the way your heart was nearly beating out of your chest, instead choosing to just be there for him. If this is what he wanted, you’d happily oblige, doing whatever it took to make him feel better— to fix him. 
“No need to thank me— if anything, thank you.” You laughed. You were just as guilty as Jungkook. All you could think about since Tuesday was Jungkook’s body pressed against yours in a heat of emotion. You thought giving him the cold shoulder would be enough to forget it all, but you were so easily pulled back in. You hated it, right now you wanted to avoid the consequences, but you couldn’t stop the growing warmth spreading through your body seeing him feel a little better. 
You expected him to laugh along with you, but Jungkook’s gaze just held onto yours before his eyes started traveling down to where your bodies met. You were a little confused at first, but once his eyes met yours again, you realized you knew that look all too well. 
Oh?
You watched with curious eyes as he started leaning in, curious what he might do considering how timid he was earlier. Maybe it was because he was still riding the high you gave him only minutes ago, but this time he easily pulled you in to meet his lips. 
He was so gentle, he always was. You quickly realized you liked the way his kisses felt, the way he held you close. You didn’t hate it; you couldn’t hate this at all. The soft moment was over quickly though, as his hands started running along your body, instantly making the simmering flame reignite inside you. Your hands quickly found a place running through his long, damp hair, pulling him closer because the last thing you wanted right now was to be away from him. 
All of a sudden, Jungkook wrapped his hands around you and hoisted you up onto the desk. He was standing between your legs, much like the position you found yourselves in a few days ago. Then his lips were on your neck, light, but more than enough for a soft moan to leave your lips before you could stop yourself. Your body was hot, and the urge to pull him closer was growing painful at this point.
“I want to make you feel good too,” Jungkook softly whispered against your skin. Dangerous, the words were so dangerous, and you wondered if he noticed the way your legs wrapped around his waist tighter, wanting to make that very wish come true.
“You’ve been so good to me— it feels so unfair, like I'm being too selfish. You’ve made me feel so good, you should too.” This is certainly not what you were expecting out of this interaction. You had imagined that since Jungkook was cheating on his wife with you, this was all going to be about the indulgence he couldn’t get from his wife.  You were just the method he’d use to get himself off. It’s not like you entirely hated the idea of him using you for relief, you were here to help him after all, though anytime you’d think about it as an affair it made you sick. But you never thought there was anything in it for you. 
Jungkook’s warm hands sliding up your thigh took you out of your thoughts, steadily pushing up your skirt in the process. When he held you like this, it was easy to forget where you were. 
You placed your hand on his, stopping him from pushing it any further. You noticed his eyes glance down, and suddenly panic spread across his features as he quickly grew noticeably flustered.
“Oh— was I being too pushy? I’m sor—” You quickly shushed him, not wanting him to overthink it.
“It’s just— we’re still in your office in the middle of a work day,” you pointed out. It was easy to forget that in the heat of emotions. Plus, Jungkook had the blinds closed, the lamp on his desk the only lighting for the room. But the glimmer of sunshine slipping in from underneath the blinds was the sole indication that it was, in fact, the middle of the afternoon on a perfect, cloudless, sunny day.
Jungkook looked over at the windows as well, and you noticed the way his face flushed. It seemed he had forgotten as well. 
“Ohhhh, right.” Jungkook shyly mumbled, clearly a little disappointed. “I’m sor—”
“Don’t apologize. I honestly want to take you up on the offer— just not here where someone might walk in again.” At the mere mention of Jungkook touching you, your body remembered how his fingers felt inside you that night. Despite his clear lack of experience being on the receiving end of pleasure, Jungkook somehow knew how to touch you in a way that made you see stars. 
Jungkook pulled you a little closer. “I know a place— uh, only if you’re interested.” He quickly added, always so polite. 
You gave him a look that told him to keep going. 
“It’s a storage closet for most of the cleaning supplies and sometimes additional things for the office. Only the janitors use the room, but they hardly go in there since it’s not really a janitor's closet. They mainly use it for restocks of their supplies. Plus, no one can come in without the required access,” Jungkook explained, and it sounded perfectly like what you needed. 
“I’m assuming that means you have access then?” You looked down at the lanyard he had sitting on his desk. 
“I’m the only one aside from the janitors.” He shyly smiled.
You thought about it for a second before hopping off the desk. “Alright then, sounds like a plan. I have a meeting to get to and some work to do— but are you free at four?” You asked, trying your best to smooth down your hair and clothes.
Jungkook moved out of the way slightly, and from the corner of your eye, you could feel his gaze scanning over your body. You couldn’t stop the smirk spreading across your face.
“Uhhhh…” For a second, you wondered if waiting until four was too big of an ask. 
“I can wait— yeah— four’s ok.” There was a shakiness to his words that made it seem like he didn’t entirely believe himself. He really was too cute.
You focused on trying to get yourself back to normal, working on your hair with only your hands as best you could. Jungkook helped you get the smeared lipstick off your face, and you helped him with a similar problem along with taming his hair and fixing his shirt so it didn’t look like you’d been tugging on it for the last half hour. 
In the end, you were able to get yourself to look somewhat decent. You realized way too late that Jungkook had a mirror in his office and you were able to address the details that he might not have seen. Jungkook looked good too. Well, he always did, but maybe you might say he looked even better than when you first walked in?
He had this cute, dopey grin on his face, and the way you had messed up his hair made the soft curls cascade around his face in a way that made him look incredibly ethereal. He had what some might call a ‘glow,’ and it didn’t take much speculation to figure out what it might have been from.
A swell of pride filled your chest, along with a bit of relief knowing you were able to make him feel better, even if only for a short amount of time. 
Your goodbye was brief. You knew your coworkers, Taehyung and Solmi especially, would be looking for you by now.
“See you at four,” you mentioned as you took one last look in the mirror. Jungkook had told you where the closet was, and he was sitting on his desk looking at you while you finished getting ready.
“Mhmmm” He lulled. “Can’t wait~” It was a shy admission that made this cute, boyish grin appear on his face.
You had to get out of here.
“Alright then, don't forget to eat lunch!” By the look on his face at your words, you knew he probably hadn’t even thought about it. 
“Don’t forget… you’re on your lunch break after all.” You reaffirmed, knowing there was a chance he’d still forget even after your reminder. 
“I won’t… see you later.” That same dopey smile appeared on his face and you had to physically tear yourself away so you could finally leave. Curse him and that face of his.
You were finally able to leave. You hastily sped past Secretary Yu, and in the corner of your eye, you caught her confusion at your sudden departure. You could only hope she hadn’t heard anything. You don’t know how long she was there…
•────•──────────•────•
Maybe you should have just taken Jungkook up on his offer to take you right there on his desk again. You had underestimated your own ability to wait. Jungkook had riled you up too much. Watching him lose himself from your mouth, with his eager need to reciprocate, made you excited. 
You hated it. You hated this. Just like that night, you had left his office feeling good, but once you made it back to your desk, those feelings of guilt and shame came back all over again. You had to remind yourself a couple of times that this was a married man you were messing with. He had a wife, and you were jeopardizing any chance of their relationship ever improving. The thought of being a homewrecker, the other woman, made your skin crawl. You hated it.
This was wrong, and that was all you should be feeling as the weight of your actions started to sink in. You hated it even more because you were excited, painfully so, as you watched the time tick down.
Jungkook certainly didn’t help either. It seemed his eyes were on you any chance they’d get. The strange thing was you saw more of him today than you usually do. Jungkook liked to spend his days holed up in his office, aside from the meetings he was required to attend and oversee, but today things were different. 
Jungkook was everywhere you turned, that same dopey look still on his face, and he always seemed to be staring at you. You wanted to scream at him because he couldn’t make it any more obvious, but you couldn’t because you liked his hungry gaze. It just fueled your thoughts about what might happen at four.
You were uncomfortably hot despite the freezing temperature outside. You were angry, you were way too horny, and as much as you should have been running away when the time finally struck four, you couldn’t have been happier. 
Jungkook had texted you about an hour ago (you both had quickly exchanged numbers right before you left) that he was going to go about five minutes or so early to let you in and asked for you to wait a little while just in case anyone saw anything. Just like a few hours prior, you walked through the halls looking over your shoulder, closely analyzing to make sure no one was following or even seeing you in the hallway. It was more stressful than it should have been, but eventually, you made it to where Jungkook had instructed. 
Storage Closet. Okay, this was it.
*Knock knock,* you paused for a second, and then followed it up with an additional two knocks. It had also been his idea to add a special, secret password just in case. You thought it was a little much, but he looked so cute while he came up with the code, so you let him have his fun. 
It took a second, and you were a little scared that for some reason this wasn’t the right door, or that maybe Jungkook might not be there yet and you came too early. But right as your anxiety soared through the roof, a small crack opened in the doorway. 
Lo and behold, peaking right through the door were the big, round, bewildered eyes of the man you were hoping for. You let out a sigh of relief as he opened the door further, revealing that it was just him in here like he promised. You looked around once more before going inside. 
Jungkook had kept the lights off, but as he shut the door behind you, he finally turned on the dim light and you were able to see the space a little better. It was pretty much exactly what you expected. There were mainly shelves lined with cleaning supplies and the occasional surplus of office supplies, like a huge stack of printer paper that you quickly made note of to ask Jungkook about later because you were always running out in the copy room. Besides that, there were a couple of tables you were confused what they were for, but some lined the space where the shelves ended, and there was also one that sat right in the center of the room. The room wasn’t that big, smaller than Jungkook’s office, but not by much. It definitely wasn’t cramped, and you let out a sigh of relief knowing it wasn’t grimy like you had feared. Instead, it matched the rest of the modern sleekness of the office outside. It really was perfect. 
You finally turned around to face Jungkook. He hadn’t said anything yet, but with the telling look in his eyes, he didn’t need to. You had only just noticed that Jungkook had gotten rid of his suit jacket, now just adorning his white button-up carefully tucked into his blue slacks with the sleeves rolled up. It all came together with a black belt with a shiny, gold buckle that glinted in the low light. You could only imagine how much it cost knowing the type of money he had. He looked good, too good. It’s like he had a long day at work, casting aside his jacket for a little more breathing room, and was now standing right in front of you. He looked casual, but classy in a way that made you squeeze your thighs together because, wow. With this look, you could even catch a glimpse of the tattoos that you had seen the other day. It was too much. You were too weak, and you just needed this man now. 
“Sooooo…” you began, the silence starting to grow a little awkward.  
Jungkook honestly didn’t know what to say. He was too busy drinking you in. The minute you left his office, he instantly regretted not asking if you had time to slip away to the storage room a little sooner. He was riding a high he didn’t know how to come down from. You had blown his mind. Sex had never felt that good, and you taking the initiative had been something he struggled to comprehend all day. It just made him even more eager to please you. You had been so nice, nicer than what he deserved, and he just wanted to make you feel even a sliver of what you gave him. He highly doubted it could compare, but anything to show you how grateful he was to have you here with him. 
Jungkook had struggled to keep it together since the moment you left. His eyes found you easily as he was pulled out of his office far more often than usual. It was nice to see you, but it just made this moment that much harder to wait for. Now that you were in front of him…
Jungkook barely noticed you had spoken. Instead, his gaze fixated on your long legs, your sheer black stockings coming up all the way to meet your short, black pencil skirt. Your outfit was completed nicely with a red blouse and pointed stilettos, making you even more alluring. You had also done a bit more fixing up since you left his office. Your red lipstick was back to perfection and your hair was neatly styled back the way it was when you initially walked into his office.
He didn’t have the confidence to say it earlier, and he was honestly a little ashamed that it was even a thought in his head, but he liked the way you looked after he was done with you. Something about ruining your neatness made his length ache in a way he didn’t quite understand. It was embarrassing, and he knew he should be ashamed, but for some reason today, he just didn’t know how to act. 
Jungkook’s feet acted faster than his mouth could. He was never the best with words anyway. Slowly, he approached you, and instinctively you moved back until your legs hit one of the tables that lined the walls. Jungkook was quick to close the gap, pulling you into another tight embrace that made it so easy to bury into your warmth. For a second he just took it in, loving how you felt in his arms, and you smelled so good too.
“Fuck.” He lightly moaned into your shirt, embarrassed at how easy it was to rile him up. It didn’t take much from Yuri, nor did it take a lot from you either. Maybe he was easy. Yuri has mentioned before how easy he was to please. Jungkook never knew exactly what that meant. He was just trying to be a good husband. It felt wrong to demand anything more than what Yuri offered… but maybe she was right.
However, he didn’t want to think about that now. You made it so easy to forget about his marriage when normally the only thing he could focus on was how much of a failure he was, how he was making Yuri miserable, and how he could make her happy only if he was a little better. Instead, it felt like the rest of the world melted away anytime he was in your presence. It might sound horrible, but he enjoyed the silence for once. 
“Jungkook?” You finally questioned after he held onto you a little too long.
“Oh right, I’m sorry.” His face burned, worried you might think he was weird. He separated from you and went back over towards the door, where he held up his hand to the light switch.
“Not a lot of people come down this hallway. No one should bother us, but just in case, it might be better to keep the lights off so no one suspects we’re in here,” Jungkook added. It was both a legitimate reason and also an excuse to turn the lights off again. The lights were dim, but not dim enough, and the thought of you seeing him, disappointing you like he had done to Yuri so many times… he couldn’t do that. It would be easier this way.
“Oh? Smart thinking, sir.” 
Jungkook quickly flipped the lights off, the only light now coming in was from underneath the door. Both of you could hardly see each other, but Jungkook was used to the dark. His eyes adjusted quickly to see a vague outline of your form standing by the desk.
“Mmmmm… What did I say about being so formal with me?” His tone was low, teasing almost, and when his hand grazed your arm, you practically jumped in surprise. It made you shiver when you realized he was so close.
“No Sir, no Mr. Jeon, no Director Jeon, no Head Director Jeon. It’s just Jungkook when we’re alone like this,” Jungkook mumbled slowly. He hated it, especially from you. It felt weird anytime anyone was formal with him, but he especially couldn’t stand the honorifics when you were both literally the same age. It felt wrong and fake, and that’s not what he wanted to be like with you.
“I got you. I’m sorry, Jungkook.” You made sure to emphasize his name since apparently he liked hearing it.
He did. He really did for some reason. Taking him out of the moment slightly, he had to stop himself from giggling at you trying to make him out in the dark, your squinting all too adorable. It made the horrible need to have you consume him in seconds.
Jungkook had his arms around you again, this time to lift you onto the table. He was gentle, like he always was, and he kept in close proximity. Having you this close again made his brain all fuzzy. Jungkook moved even closer and pulled you back into his arms. 
“I missed you…” he sighed, an embarrassing confession but one that was true nonetheless. He couldn’t stop thinking about you since you’d left, and it felt so good to have you here.
You didn’t want to admit it either, but it felt so good to have him here as well. You sighed in relief as you pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
It was a moment of softness that neither of you were really prepared for. It was nice though; you couldn’t deny it. He gave great hugs, so warm and inviting. There was an unexpected sweet smell in the air around him. You could tell his cologne was expensive, it was soft and delicate, just like the wine he gifted you on Tuesday. You felt like you could get drunk from his very presence, and that just made the ache even worse.
“Jungkook, please—” you rushed out, and he was quick to respond. Jungkook pulled you close, finally closing the agonizing distance between you two. You both had run out of patience to be soft and you were too needy to take it slow, instead going straight in with hurried and desperate kisses.
Your lips chased after each other. Any moment apart felt like an eternity, and when his hands came up and gently tugged on your blouse, the room grew hot quickly. You both knew at the end of the day, as much as you wanted to savor this moment, you were still in the middle of the workday. This had to be quick. 
Jungkook let his hand roam down your sides, touching and squeezing anything he could grab. Your blouse came first. He anxiously toyed with the few buttons it had and you both made quick work of undoing them until you could feel the chill air of the storage room on your chest. It made you remember what you had on underneath, and you cursed to yourself slightly when you realized it wasn’t anything cute, just a regular, plain black bra. But you found some relief in the fact that it was dark in here. You could still barely see Jungkook even after a few minutes had passed. However, Jungkook must have superhuman eyes because you felt him pull back for a second, and you thought you could see him staring because of the faint outline cast onto him from the light underneath the door. 
And he was staring. How could he not? You took his breath away every time he saw you. You were too kind for doing this, and deep down he knew that it was likely because of how pitiful he looked. It was probably the only reason any of this was happening. You gave him the same look that everyone else did. Dr. Min, Jimin, Dae-Jung… he’d seen it too many times. He hated it. He hated the pity. They just didn’t understand, you didn’t either apparently, that he deserved everything he got. 
To try and rid himself of his darkening thoughts, he quickly kissed you once again as his hand trailed up your thigh to push your short skirt up. It pleased him more than anything when he felt your soft skin, letting him know you were wearing thigh-highs once again.
Jungkook groaned into the kiss, a burning desire returning all too quickly. No, no— this was about you. As much as he might want to have you, he was being too greedy. Even though Yuri wasn’t here, he could hear her words filled with disappointment at him for being so selfish. You already fucked him a few days ago, and despite his pathetic begging, you gave him his first blowjob. It had been all about him so far, and you’d given more than he ever deserved. If he could only stop thinking with his dick for five seconds, maybe he could make you feel even a quarter of what you gave him—
Tears pricked his eyes with just the feeling of having you so close as your hands ran over his shirt—
“Wanna make you feel good…” Jungkook said, far too shakily. His hand snaked in between your bodies, his eager fingers shocked to meet the wetness of your panties.
“Please, Jungkook, please,” you cried out as quietly as you could. You couldn’t take it anymore. He quickly learned he wasn’t like Yuri; begging worked far too well on him. 
Jungkook stepped out from between your legs to give himself a little more room. But right before you could complain at the distance, Jungkook put a reassuring grip on your waist and his other hand traced the expanse of your covered thighs ever so lightly. Your breath was shaky the closer he grew to where you wanted— no, needed him, as his fingers lightly ran over your stockings, your body going into overdrive anytime he’d inch a little closer. 
“Fuck—” you whined, enjoying the light teasing, but you wanted more. You had no idea what he was doing, but every touch felt so sensitive. He finally pushed past your skirt and played with the hem of your stockings, pulling them back and letting them snap lightly back into place. 
You both moaned. 
“You’re so hot, I—” Jungkook groaned, but didn’t finish what he was going to say because something about that seemed to have set him off. He buried his face in your neck, quickly planting desperate kisses along your skin as his hand finally made their way to your panties once more, rubbing the soaked fabric. 
The way you practically yelped when you felt his fingers running over your slit was a little embarrassing. The way he made you feel didn’t make any sense. Jungkook knew just the way to touch you that had you practically bucking into his hand as he finally settled his fingers on your clit. Despite his lack of experience in other subjects, Jungkook certainly knew how to touch the little bud the right way, though he already proved that to you the last time.
You gripped the table hard as waves of pleasure traversed your whole body, stimulating an eagerness you hadn’t felt in a while. It reminded you of college, being on your own for the first time in your life, and how that freedom came with a need to explore. It was good. You both didn’t know each other’s bodies yet, but you still found ways to make each other feel good and forget about the countless deadlines that loomed over you. 
Jungkook gave you that rush all over again. A youthful rush that you only thought was possible to feel before you hit your second decade. 
He must have noticed your growing frustration because his fingers finally pulled the soaked fabric to the side, and you were able to feel him without any barrier in the way. You were absolutely soaked, embarrassingly so. Over the buzzing of the AC in the background, the squelches of his fingers running through your drenched folds filled the room and made your cheeks burn.
In the dark all your senses were heightened. You felt Jungkook’s body on yours and his soft sighs of pleasure right in your ear as he rubbed himself lightly against your thigh. In the heat of it, you could tell he was holding himself back, how he wanted more but seemed keen on his promise to make you feel good this time. 
Your body grew hotter by the second and the moment his fingers settled on your clit once again, drawing fast, teasing circles, while you struggled not to scream out loud. You quickly had to wrap your hands around his shoulders to stop yourself from crying out for any unlucky coworker who happened to be walking by to hear.
Even though the closet was slightly secluded in a hallway not many usually walked through, it certainly wasn’t far from where they did. You could even hear them in the far distance, the sounds of murmured voices growing louder before fading off, or the hurried clicking of heels through the tiled halls. They would definitely hear if you weren’t quiet.
But Jungkook was making that almost an impossible task by the way he was touching you. And you only wanted more.
“Jungkook!” His name tumbled from your lips far too loudly, your mind a little fuzzy, but you just needed him.
Suddenly, you felt a soft kiss on your cheek and then another one on your neck, a little slower this time in pulling away. 
“Can I taste you?” Jungkook lightly moaned in your ear, so gentle and soft in the way he asked. Tingles spread through your whole body and a whole new wave of arousal soaked his fingers. 
It was criminal how pretty he sounded. 
“Please,” you whined as quietly as you could, tears pricking your eyes. You’d never been so turned on before. The shame at the realization that this was happening at your workplace filled you for a second, but Jungkook pulling his hand away and lightly running over your thigh quickly brought you back. 
You groaned as you watched his faint outline move back between your legs and drop down to his knees. You could see the faint glimmer of his eyes as he bent down, his eager, yet innocent expression a deadly combination in such a compromising position like this one. But his innocence proved to be merely a facade. Jungkook quickly placed your legs over his shoulders, wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold them in place, and tugged you closer to the edge of the table. He was close enough that you could feel his shaky breath against your soaked folds. A shudder ran through your body. Maybe it was good you couldn’t really see him. You already knew you enjoyed the sight of him on his knees too much.
Suddenly, you felt light kisses trailing up your thigh, getting closer and closer to where you wanted him. “Want to make you feel good,” Jungkook softly sighed. “Just want to make someone feel good.” It was quiet, and you only just picked it up before Jungkook buried himself between your thighs.
You were certainly unprepared. Your mind was too fuzzy, all you knew was you needed to feel him. But your assumption about his lack of experience was once again proved to be incorrect.
Jungkook instantly got to work pleasing your body, planting soft kisses along the expanse of your inner thighs, growing closer until you whined when he kissed between your soaked folds. You had to swallow back a moan when you felt his tongue licking run up your slit. He was eager and didn't hold back once he found your clit. You groaned, feeling the tentative patterns he drew around the bud, skilled, knowing exactly what to do to have you seeing stars already.
“Fuck.” You wanted to scream, cry out, do something. The fact you couldn’t, turned you on in a way that confused you, but also frustrated you to no end. 
Your hand raked through his hair, moving him closer and making sure he didn’t pull away anytime soon. You knew you could cum from this if he kept at it long enough. You never knew how much a little foreplay could rile you up, but for some reason you found yourself close to the edge already, even though he’d barely started. 
Jungkook really didn’t need to do too much to affect you, but he was such an eager boy, desperate to please, and he wanted to give you the full experience despite the dwindling time you had before someone would start questioning where you both were. 
Jungkook pulled away slightly and replaced his tongue with enthusiastic fingers, going back to pumping you with two, and tears pricked your eyes when he managed to fit in a third. 
“Oh! Fu-oh,” you cried, and Jungkook couldn’t help but think the sounds you made were the hottest thing he’d ever heard.
Yuri wasn’t loud— Jungkook never knew how to take it, whether that meant he was doing a good job or not or if she was just on the quieter side. The only reason why he didn’t go crazy thinking it must be because he was terrible was because it was the only regular aspect of their sex lives. But with you, he decided he preferred the cute way you tried your best to keep quiet, but occasionally when he’d touch you just right, you’d make these adorable squeaks.
Your hand had found its way into his hair again, and with the way you held him close, you were practically fucking yourself against his tongue. You were a little rough, your grip tight, but he liked the way it stung. Your desperation was affecting him and he just wanted to make you feel good. He liked the way you were using him. It felt good to be used, needed, wanted, even if it was just for a second. 
He was sloppy, not bothering to try and keep things classy. His mouth was practically covered in your arousal, but he loved it. You tasted amazing. Seeing you like this was amazing. Even though it was dark, he could see the way your eyebrows were furrowed by the faint glow coming through the cracks in the door. You were breathtaking. It made the strain in his slacks worsen, seeing you turn into a mess the longer he kept going. He was hardly keeping it together as it was. You probably felt it before he even dropped to his knees. He was hard, but he had to keep it together. This was about you, only you. 
What would Yuri say if she knew how riled up he was getting even after you already gave him so much? She would be disappointed and so would you. He’s been so selfish. He just had to make you feel good—
Jungkook hoped you wouldn’t notice, but he was crying again. One tear fell, then two, then they just wouldn’t stop. 
Jungkook groaned into your pussy, a mix of frustration and delight. You were so good, he had to be good for you too. And that seemed to be what it took to get you to start hurdling off the edge.
“Koo— Jungkook— fuck— fuck— close.” Your feeble attempts at being quiet were all in vain as your desperation grew for sweet release. 
Jungkook was somehow able to make sense of your whimpering and quickly picked up the pace. He hastily switched back to using his mouth and wanted more than anything for you to finish on his tongue. 
He was back with his skilled tongue, and your sensitivity brought you to the edge all too quickly. Jungkook focused on your bundle of nerves again, going from tracing to sucking to the point that you were a writhing mess in his arms. Your thighs tightened around his face, your grip in his hair growing tighter, making him groan out, the pleasure and pain a combination that made the ache somehow even worse. You were shaking in his grasp, your hushed whines growing more incoherent, and oh— he wanted to see you cum. 
He felt like he could cum all over again. Embarrassing.
It wasn’t long after that Jungkook watched with eager eyes as you fell apart on his tongue. Wave after wave of pleasure kept hitting you. Jungkook helped you ride it out, easing up a bit, but staying close. You felt like you were riding on cloud nine, and for a second you even forgot where you were. The little closet disappeared, the company building disappeared, maybe the whole world vanished, leaving your mind in a state of bliss. It was just you and Jungkook and the overwhelming blissful end he gave you.
It took more than a moment for you to recover, your ragged breathing filling the space as you tried to pull yourself together. Jungkook eventually pulled away when you started to whine from the overstimulation.
It had never felt like that before. You could only imagine what type of pleasure he’d bring you under better conditions. This was going to be a problem. This was going to have to end one day, and you couldn’t get too attached.
After some time, Jungkook shakily rose to his feet. His body felt like it was on fire. You had nearly made him cum as he watched you reach your peak, it was too hot seeing you like that. Normally someone who’s always so put together and neat, you looked like a complete mess, and it just reaffirmed his earlier concern that, in fact, he enjoyed seeing you like that.
Horrible, wasn’t it?
Jungkook could hardly look away, his body screaming out to have you. The thought of walking out when he felt like this was unbearable, but this was about you, this needed to be about you. He didn’t want to disapp—
Then all of a sudden, your hands were on his shoulders, pulling him closer in an instant. He was back between your legs, and before he could question it any further, you were pulling him in for a fervent kiss. 
You seemed not to care that he was still covered in your juices and Jungkook had to fight back the urge to buck into you like a wild animal at the thought. Yuri hated when he tried to kiss her afterward, she hated kissing him anyways.
He settled into it, one hand on your waist, the other lightly cupping your cheek. As much as he was trying to control himself, you made it impossible with the way your hands raked over his body, the thread of self-control he tried to maintain for your sake quickly withered away. With each second, he grew closer, to the point you were pressed right against each other. You could certainly feel it now, the way his body pleaded for yours. Jungkook had to quickly pull away, his eyes growing watery all over again. 
“Wait!” He cried. He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to at all. He could see your confusion in the darkness.
“This was about you— I promised— I—” It hurt so badly. He wanted you so badly.
You relaxed at his words. 
“Well, I want you, so—” You started to rationalize, but Jungkook wasn’t having it.
“But—”
Instead of going back and forth and letting this turn into a long discussion, you decided to take action instead. Your hands found their way to his belt and quickly started to undo the strap. His breath was heavy as the buckle jingled when you finally managed to get it undone, and you didn’t give him any time to process before you went for his pants next and reached in to pull him out.
Jungkook groaned into your shoulder, feeling your hand wrap around his length. You lightly ran your hand down to the base and then back up, tracing your thumb along his leaky tip.
“Oh— oh— oh!” You were making it so hard for him. It was cruel. “I’ll wait, I’ll…I’ll…” The words were for himself more than you. He needed to keep himself in line, he had to.
“Mmmm, you certainly don’t feel like you want to wait,” you chuckled breathlessly. It was only meant to be a light tease, but you felt him shaking. His soft sniffles let you know he was actually crying.
“I’m sorry…” he sobbed. He felt like he had disappointed you. His body had betrayed him in a way that made Yuri scream at him anytime he tried to pull her close afterward. He wasn’t in control, he should be better than this, she’d always say. 
“Jungkook, didn't you hear me earlier? I said I wanted you.” Instead of the degradation he was expecting, the softness of your voice as you pulled him a little closer melted him in your grasp. You couldn’t even imagine the things he’d been told that would make him think this way.
You couldn’t really see it, but Jungkook was staring at you wide-eyed. For some reason, he was having issues processing your words. They just didn’t make sense. He had already taken too much, hadn’t he? But the simple thought of you wanting more had him subtly moving his cock within your grip.  
“Do you want to do this?” You asked when you noticed his movement. 
Despite your confession earlier, Jungkook found it hard to admit how much he wanted to fuck you. You took it upon yourself to help him, bringing his tip to your soaked folds and letting it run through your arousal. 
“Fuck— Y/n!” he whined. It instantly got a reaction from him, his need soaring beyond all reason. He couldn’t think straight anymore, and all he could focus on was the thought of finally slipping inside you again, just like he’d been imagining over the last few days.
“Do you want this?” You repeated, still so soft. Not a demand that he had to fulfill, but a genuine question asking if he wanted more from this. 
For a second, he didn’t answer, the sound of his breathing growing more labored as you ran his cock up and down your slick. He couldn’t answer. You felt so good and he was trying his best to get back in control, to not be so weak as Yuri would always say, but you made it so hard. 
He wanted to fuck you, and he probably would have pushed into you right then and there if suddenly he didn’t remember something.
“I— I still don’t have any condoms with me,” Jungkook cried, tears slipping down his cheeks as he fell into your shoulder. Fuck— how was he going to walk away from this?
“We don’t need one— I’m still on the pill, remember?” You pulled him away so you could look him in the eye. “If you’re ok with it, we could continue, but if you’re not comfortable doing that again, that’s completely fine.” You smiled, and there was genuine concern behind your gaze.
Jungkook normally wasn’t the risky type when it came to sex. He barely had sex enough for a habit like that to even be established, but with Yuri he was always so careful. She would never forgive him for even taking the chance of getting her pregnant, and he didn’t want it either. Not when he was like this, clinging to life by only a few short strands. With Yuri, he made sure things were right no matter his desperation, but with you… Once was risky enough, the heat of emotions causing protection to completely slip his mind. He had remembered this time, but after hearing your reassurance, his usual caution was thrown to the wind and all he could care about was feeling you.
In a haste, Jungkook took it upon himself to finally guide his cock into your warmth, moving your hand out of the way while he grabbed his length and finally slipped it into your slick hole. He watched your expression intently as it turned from surprise into bliss, pleasure overtaking your features, and you just looked so pretty. It made his desperation worse as your tight warmth enveloped him. You were so wet; he slipped in so easily, like you needed him just as badly as he needed you. 
Jungkook had to fight back the urge to sob. After so many days of playing your night together over and over in his head, his imagination could never compare to how good you felt in real life. Despite his earlier indulgence, Jungkook had to fight tooth and nail to deter himself from filling you up right away. You had had to deal with that once already, he couldn’t disappoint you— not again. The fact that you were even doing this with him was gracious enough. He couldn’t keep putting you through his failures.
Jungkook tried to slow his breathing down while he waited for you to get adjusted and for himself to calm down enough to move without instantly blowing his load. Even now, you were making it difficult in the way you were squeezing around him, and he already knew he wouldn’t last very long no matter how hard he tried.
You noticed he was tense and planted a few kisses across his cheeks, but Jungkook pushed your face so your lips would finally meet his again, engaging in another passionate kiss that only made you squeeze somehow even tighter around him.
Jungkook broke the kiss and let out something between a groan and a whine. “Fuck— fuck— I—” He wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t just going to cum right then and there. Embarrassing.
“I’m sorry— so sorry.” He cried. “I don’t think I’ll make it very long…” You would probably want nothing to do with him after this.
You went back to kissing his cheeks. “Don’t stress, ok? Fuck me how you want to, don’t hold back for me.” Your warm smile could be seen even in the darkness. You looked like an angel…
Your words set a fire inside him. Fuck me how you want to— you were far too nice for someone as pathetic as he was. But as shameful as it was, he enjoyed your sympathy.
Jungkook didn’t hold back anymore and finally started moving his hips. You both moaned, but quickly realized the volume of your mistake, pulling each other into another kiss instead. You both swallowed each other's cries amidst the sounds of clothes ruffling, and the wet, slick sound of his quickening pace pumping into your heat. The table you were sitting on started to creak with his hurried struggle to properly feel you again.
Jungkook rolled his hips in a way that made your toes curl and had you struggling to keep quiet. He was good, settling into a nice, rhythmic roll after a few desperate thrusts in the beginning. His size filled you up in all the right places, a satisfying stretch that you could more than just grow used to. 
It wasn’t long before you both had turned into a tangled mess of limbs trying to feel each other. Jungkook had buried himself in your shoulder. Kissing you grew impossible. Instead, he cried out as silently as he could into your skin. 
He managed to delay his release for longer than he had expected, but the rush still came on quicker than he would have liked. 
“Close!” He whined as quietly as he could before picking up the pace. He couldn’t last much longer with the way you were squeezing around him. It was all too much, and before he could even try and hold it back any longer, his hips stilled and he filled you up with everything he could give.
Jungkook quickly pulled you into a kiss as his hand made its way between your bodies, and his fingers hastily found your clit again. He started making hurried motions around the bud until you were clinging onto his shoulders while your next orgasm surged through your body. You both were out of breath as the heat of the moment began to simmer down. It was the first moment he was finally able to think clearly again. There was one half of him that looked at you with the utmost admiration, someone far too kind to be messing with him. He never thought he could get enough of you. Then there was the other half…
The post-bliss clarity made him look at the situation as it truly was. He was cheating. This had truly turned into cheating. He’d betrayed Yuri’s trust, and there was nothing he could ever do to regain it. He didn't deserve to. But as horrible as it was, Jungkook found himself wanting to do it with you all over again, to have you in his arms so the world would melt away and he could just indulge. 
But unfortunately, the other half looked at you with the same shame and disgust he held for himself. All you were now was a reminder of how horrible of a person he’d become, and he couldn’t stand it.  
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teopatra · 11 months
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What makes you pretty? Pick a pile/card (PAC)
Teehee happy libra ♎️ season, the prettiest season
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Top left: mulatto // bottom left: justa (@justuh-IG)
Top right: crystal westbrooks // bottom right: chan (@trapezoidmouth-IG)
“On October 3rd, he asked me what day it is…”🤭
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Latto🖤🤍 (top left)
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🖤keywords: glam, mixed , clean cut, dark feminine, vixen, sports illustrated
🤍I checked on Latto’s chart and her sun is 0° Capricorn and she has a lot of Sagittarius, Capricorn, and Aquarius influence. what makes you pretty off first glance is the size or shape of your bum bum lol it’s very plump and your skin and lips are soft looking. This makes people want to touch you and if you happen to attract people who are coarser with you or [TW] stalker-y then that’s why. The shade of your complexion also makes you pretty also.
🖤 You are probably considered getting work done to some part of your body or you could have already gotten work done; if not, then this is your sign. Whether the work you seek to get done to your body is cosmetic or not, you want to improve your body for your mental or physical health. You like to stay healthy and focus on beauty a lot.
🤍 you have very stern, strong, and structured features like a very nice smile, nice teeth, white teeth, or dimples. You may have a square shaped face or a heart shaped face with a small forehead or widows peak.
🖤 dark hair probably looks best on your but diff hair shades suit you and you can really pull off any color. If you like to wear your hair down it’s very feminine and gives me typical cheerleader trope with flowy or bouncy hair. If you wear your hair up it accentuates your ears, neck, and shoulders
🤍 what makes you even prettier than most not to compare but you’re a chamelon. With the theme of Lotto this is fitting because her stage name USED to be Mulatto but the term is technically derogatory, but the meaning is a mixed race person. Even tho I’ve mentioned multiple or specific races in other piles, n this group the mixing of energies makes you able to pull off multiple aesthetics. You’re definitely ambiguous and most of you are mixed, but not all of you. For those of you who are full breed you probably have a feature that isn’t likened to your race for example if you’re black you may have really fine or straight hair maybe even a very loose curl pattern. I’m even getting some of you are bald maybe you are diagnosed from alopecia (at first I said suffer from alopecia, but I changed it bc although this is a disease that is hard to deal with , I don’t want to use the word suffer bc you are so inspiring and influential to others despite the hardship you endure with this health challenge. Stay strong loves you’re very beautiful.)
🖤 what makes you pretty is your ability to control your emotions and think rationally. Being focused and goal oriented are traits that can make you prettier bc people can see that you take yourself seriously. You are able to make something out of nothing and even n the toughest situations you know what to do. Your resourcefulness makes you pretty bc it shows your wit and survival skills. You’re an innovative person in the way you maneuver thru life and you don’t rely on others to make things happen for you
🤍 what makes you pretty is how sought after you are. A lot of people demand your presence and want to be around you; most finding you to be attractive, but even if they aren’t looking to seek you romantically, a lot of them want to work with you just to have a reason to be around you. In matters of a classroom environment, others may want you to be their partner or study with them. Being around you gives others confidence and makes them feel important bc of how pretty you are. It sounds shallow only to a small minded person bc your beauty is of God’s craft. Your features are sharp yet symmetrical, making you a model of many facets.
🖤 your jaw line makes you pretty which makes me think of mercurial energy like people watch your mouth when you talk or people love your teeth and if you see people looking at your mouth during a conversation that’s why lol don’t feel awkward about it. People hang onto your every word lol you may have an accent and even tho you’re pretty you speak sternly and alot of times you tend to be sarcastic and people may find this intimidating bc they can’t tell if you’re serious or playing. they don’t know when to laugh lmao you make people feel awkward bc you have queen energy that’s like when she says jump I’m supposed to jump but idk how high to jump and I don’t want to look stupid lol. People are not afriad of you bc they feel comfortable in your energy but their afraid of how you may perceive them. People can’t help but compare themselves to you but in a good way, like if you wear a bow in your hair then when someone goes to the mall and sees sowmthing similar to what you wore like that bow they’ll get it just bc it reminds them of you and how pretty it looked when you wore it. You have that “effect”.. idk if I’m supposed to use affect or effect lol
🤍 but that’s another reason why people find you pretty bc even tho you take life seriously you don’t take YOURSELF too seriously. You’re effortlessly pretty like yea you like to dress cute and look put together, but honestly you don’t try too too hard. You’re a very simple girl but you’re about your business. It may make you sad sometimes that you may make jokes but you have dad humor so it goes over a lot of peoples heads lol. You’re especially pretty to people a lot older than you bc of your maturity and wisdom and those a lot younger than you bc you give them cougar energy even tho you’re not that old ( you could be), but to them if they were to have a crush on an “older” (than them) women you would be that gworl.
Xoxo
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Justa 💕 (bottom left)
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💕keywords: shapes, coquette, dainty, fairy, girly, (divine) feminine, pink, fresh, spring, winter
💕 pretty Justa is a libra sun and she is Indonesian and black. But what makes you pretty is your charm, wit, and feminine energy. When you’re pretty but not intimidating yet alluring n a way that draws people in bc you’re down to earth it hypnotizes people. You probably are clumsy or may move kind of fast, you’re the type to stubble or drop something when you’re walking out the door but don’t get it twisted you’re ALWAYS prepared. You are a triple threat (song, dance, AND act model as well) and that makes you pretty bc your talents are your hobbies and your favorite things so you shine.
💕 you’re just a girl (no pun intended) and this makes you even prettier bc to men you’re like a damsel in distress and you may or may not realize this but you attract the same gender as well even if those people aren’t normally attracted to their own gender, but it’s something about you like siren energy that gets people lost in your eyes. You have a seductive quality without trying but it’s the way the tone of your voice rises and falls. Your voice probably doesn’t match your face and that makes you pretty too bc it’s a shock factor and makes people hooked to your every word.
💕 you have no problem tapping into your dark feminine energy it’s giving me Xtina and old school 90s video vixens who are just hot for existing. Everyone wants to look like you but they can’t seem to do it quite like you bc of the features you possess esp if you’re mixed with multiple things and if you aren’t I’m hearing it’s your eyes, you probably have cute little eye bags not the scary dark ones lol but the plump ones like a baby that give you an innocent quality. How can you be so innocent, fresh, and young looking, yet sexy and seductive at the same time.
💕 you combat your sexiness by wearing girly girly stuff like coquette theme and you don’t show too much skin for the most part you’re actually modest but you give a little tease like an off the shoulder shirt revealing your collar bone or a deep plunge revealing your cleavage and bust line, or a skirt with a slit or cam micro mini revealing thigh (tbh you prob love short skirts but wear tights or leggings under) . What makes you pretty is that people would take your Instagram pictures to their cosmetologist, esthetician, or surgeon as reference. I’m getting even trans or boys who want to identify as women want to look like you bc you’re the epitome of pretty but not mainstream pretty. You have an exotic look that was probably too sexy for mainstream media, pop culture, and magazines. Some of you either have dark features OR the opposite like striking blonde hair and blue eyes and if not you could potentially look great with the opposite like if you have dark hair you’d look just as pretty with highlights or colored contacts.
💕 it’s almost scary the type of pretty you are bc people can’t help but stare at you to the point it’s rude but the way you look people have never witnessed before. Have you ever seen a gorgeous person n public randomly and it gave you a boost of energy or confidence like wow I’m n the same room as that person we must have sowmthing n common. What also makes you pretty are your mannerisms, if you’re a clutz while you’re rushing out the door, once you get yourself together I’m seeing you being very calm and controlled almost too controlled which is another reason they stare bc they can’t tell if you’re real even tho it’s quite obvious you aren’t a mannequin lol but you aren’t seen on your phone too much n public, when you’re alone you take lots of selfies and that makes you pretty bc of the self archives you have. You may do your own photo shoots n private for your socials and it’s like you have an arsenal. You probably wear a lot of black and or white with accents of pink or blue. You dramatize doll makeup with lash extensions or loads or mascara, lip plumper, and blush to make you seem flushed or embarrassed.
💕the mannerisms you posses that make you pretty are your ability to stand up straight and very still for long periods of time bc most likely you’re very focused on your surroundings taking n the ambience while others are taking you in as well. This gives me high priestess vibes bc you’re able to bask n the moment and be very present and understand the spiritual significance of the moment in time you’re in. People can see this wisdom and innate understanding when they look at you bc they see your gears moving.
💕 you look like a little doll but people don’t feel the urge to possess you or dominate you, men ofc would love to have you like a little girl would love to have a pretty doll on her shelf, but you have strong Yang energy or feminine energy that makes a man want to be balanced with you. You make men straighten up or fix their hair or clothes, you can make the manliest man blush or have sweaty palms and even stumble over his words bc there’s a depth to your eyes yet looking into them is almost like looking into the eyes of a porcelain doll. You’re often very hard to read and this makes you pretty bc nowadays a lot of girls can give off pick me energy and have no mystery to them. You aren’t overly mysterious but there’s more to you that meets the eye and it’s apparent that you’re talented in the arts whether it be that you’re a great vocalist, maybe even a poet or public speaker.
💕 it makes you pretty that you’re very involved whether that be n the community or taking your hobbies serious as in professionally. If you’ve considered going to art or fashion school or moving to a major city that’s known for music or fashion then do that bc it’s a part of your destiny. I’m seeing that wearing half up half down is very pretty on you. Your hair may be very straight and hard to curl I seen you have tried to curl it but it takes lots of products and afterwards your hair just feels heavy and greasy and all you wanna do is wash it and start over with a fresh flowy blowout. If you’re considering dying your natural hair maybe try weave alternatives first like a wig or tape ins. Esp if you’re into theatre and acting skits, don’t change your look too drastically bc with todays resources you can get a nice makeover without it being permanent.
💕 I’m skipping around about here n this group but back to community involvement, this makes you pretty bc it shows you’re not selfish like most pretty people are assumed to be. You don’t just have a maternal nature but you also have a leadership quality that allows people to trust you, you’re almost like an angel to people bc not only are you pretty but you’re sweet as molasses. You have a strong personality and this makes you pretty bc it shows that you know what you want and where you’re headed, you’re a one (wo)man band who doesn’t mind involving others along for the ride. You may have not been Regina George popular but you’re popular n the way that everyone knows you and they don’t mind indulging n a quick chat with you every few passings. You’re really pretty in jeans and boots. Esp winter and fall apparel like a winter American girl dollie lol
Xoxo
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Crystal 💙 (top right)
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💙 keywords: passionate, resourceful, loved, loving, gentle, flower child, bohemian
💙 she is mixed with black, Native American, Mexican, creole, and some Asian descent. She is a Pisces sun but I mistook her for a cancer. When I looked at her chart she had a LOT of fire energy which I was slightly surprised by because on her social media she doesn’t usually talk or SAY much she’s more of a re-poster.
💙 it’s pretty when you try to tan or go outside in the sun bc for some reason your face may not tan much or stay tan for long but the rest of your body including your neck stays darker than your face
💙 if your hair is big that is bold and makes you stand out even if you’re introverted or shy and you may always wonder why people talk to you when you may not feel mentally prepared to engage in conversation but your hair draws people in if you were ever wondering. The thickness or length of your hair makes people want to get a closer look bc of the contrast from your hair color and pale face. Browns and blondes can look the best on you whereas darker colors like black hair and dark browns can make you looked washed out.
💙 you may not wear a lot of makeup which makes you extremely pretty bc you probably indulge in a lot of skincare or maybe you wear makeup that looks so natural as if you’re not wearing any like a boy beat makeup look that isn’t full coverage but accentuates your natural beauty features, try to only wear mascara, lip gloss and stain, and blush. There’s almost no color match for your skin youd have to mix at least 2 or more shades to get your right skin match bc you have different undertones esp once you go out in the sun. This could be due to you being multiple ethnicities.
💙 your mouth is pretty expect people probably never see your teeth bc don’t smile with them and you could be shy about showing your teeth or being overly expressive. Having too many emotions in public can make you feel embarrassed which is cute to others bc it makes you come off as mysterious. You remind me of tangled how her hair is always in your face, your hair is like a curtain shielding and protecting you from the outside world but ofc that only makes people more curious
💙 I feel like tones of chestnut brown like Ariana grande brown hair tone or auburn and reds suit you, also maybe thinner or natural brows. Try mascara instead of lashes and if you don’t wear either mascara could elevate your natural beauty and maybe even brown eyeliner instead of black. Your hair could be prettier up and off of your shoulders and out of your face either like a messy bun/updo or a pineapple style.
💙 you look pretty when you show your legs or arms and people pay attention to your hands as well they’re very dainty and maternal as if you give good massages or people daydream of you playing n their hair 😆.. try a French manicure or a clear polish and if you don’t do polish do not bite your nails start carrying around a nail file instead and give your nails a square or almond shape. You look pretty n neutrals like browns and beiges. Gold jewelry also accentuates your beauty but necklaces instead of earrings. The type of pretty you are is you’re extremely naturally beautiful but accessories take away from that and it clashes. For the most part if you already don’t do too much n that aspect then this is confirmation.
💙 side note this isn’t about physical feature but it’s makes you more attractive that you aren’t seen around large groups unless it’s for family. I see you probably are a loner who likes to eat at restaurants alone and read or scroll on your phone and you enjoy your own company. This makes you pretty bc it gives off self assurance and that you aren’t caught up in the joneses of clout chasing and trying to be seen amongst the cool crowds, instead you walk alone and people-watch. Although you’re reserved, around the right folks you’re deff goofy and that makes you pretty bc since you’re so quiet for the most part you’re seen having fun giggling at those around you which makes you down to earth and trustworthy. Girl you’re fine asf and you prob like vintage or thrift shopping. I see a very old Hollywood when you dress up but mix and match in your daily dress like a soccer jersey that’s from the little boys section or that you tied n the back with a rubber band and some sports shorts and maybe doc margins, vans, or ballet flats. You’re so girly and cutesy, but dress like a tomboy sometimes even tho you aren’t and people know this bc you’ll carry around a dainty purse and probably rock shades when you’re out bc you have something with your eyes like astigmatism lol it reminds me of how Ariana Grande is always squinting bc she can’t see LOL that makes you pretty tho xoxo
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Chantel💟@trapezoidmouth (bottom right)
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💟 keywords: soft, dainty, warm tones, pastels, versatile, round and petite features but feminine and curvy physique, sparkly, sensual
💟 Chan is a Sagittarius sun, I’m not sure her chart details but she has a very curvy yet petite frame and a small shaped face which is typically attributed with the planet mercury.
💟 you could have a way with words and thing things that you say and or the way you say them makes people laugh. You’re witty, yet down to earth so you know how to crack a GOOD joke, even if you’re not trying to. Due to your dry humor, sacrastic tone, social ques, and emotional intelligence you have a personality and intellect that people don’t come across everyday. You’re like a fictional sitcom character with a really good script. From a pretty lady like yourself …
💟 you’re a doll to where people want to dress you. You may not know this but in the traditional old fashioned way that women would be spotted by industry talent agencies bc they wanted to see that particular person in their clothing brand or representing their label is because of look that person had. You are very editorial and a fantasy/traditional Victoria’s Secret vibes to those wanting to dress you but not in a trendy way rather a trendsetting way. For example when new Bratz would have edgy and over the top outfits that you didn’t see everyday and you’re prob the person that experiments with clothing and have always done so by putting together pieces in a cool way which breaks the mold and makes others more comfortable with being quirky in their dressing instead of waiting for mainstream media to give the “ok” with particles looks first. Just as much as people love to see you wear the most high fashion they imagine what you’d look like nude as well.
💟 I see you having a defined back or an arched back or even back dimples. If you have wide hips or love handles this makes you pretty bc it gives the child bearing appearance that makes you seem more maternal. Being more maternal means you’re caring and people can see this in your eyes as well. Your eyes could be intimidating and I feel like you don’t mske a lot of eye contact with people in person. People are not offended by this bc you give off the energy that you’re always busy doing something or too busy for the convo. Most people would find this rude, but with you people are happy to just be in your presence or even be seen within feet or you bc you’re so gorgeous.
💟 if you have an uneven skin tone or discoloration (vitiligo, tan, sun spots, freckles, hyperpigmentation) it’s very pretty and some people may try to hyper focus in on how many hues you have or compare and contrast the different shades of your skin tone. The people who get close enough to you to analyze you (as they always do you may just not notice it) try to inspect small things about you that they could remember later to help them visualize you after you leave bc people crush on you hard . People could notice when you get goosebumps and that turns them on bc that very human nature makes you feel more personified even tho to people you are a fantasy or a fictional character in the flesh
💟 Jessica rabbit, Lola bunny, and Betty boop are all vibes you remind people of due to the pure innocent nature of the feminine needing masculine energy to counterbalance.. men view them as fragile and weak to where they could overtake them or almost pick them up and take them away and even tho you may be dainty or petite, people wouldn’t dare harm you bc they assume that there are lots of strong masculine figures in your life bc your demeanor exudes that. And even if that isn’t the case, there is a masculine ancestor or spirit guide who is fighting for you on the spiritual plane to protect you. Even tho you a divine feminine, your masculine and feminine qualities are balanced.
💟 aside from your face and body frame, your limbs particularly make you pretty, it’s the way they move when you talk or walk, like water. (Tyla) you’re prettiest in clothing that accentuate your body no matter your frame as long as the skin is covered for example a body con, or long sleeve, or a skims type dress, or all black leggings and title neck with long riding boots and cute accessories. Obvi you’re hot no pun intended (from being clothed head to toe LOL jk) in anything you wear but you’re most attractive n that style bc it accentuates your limbs. Particularly your hands are slender and men could imagine what your hand would look like with a wedding ring. If men grab your feet when you’re chatting with your crush on the couch it’s bc you have cute toes. Your teeth are pretty and white, but continue to take care of your gum health and whiten your teeth more to charm men.
💟 long wavy hair is pretty on you if you haven’t tried it I would suggest that in maybe extensions or a wig BUT if you want to do something different try curly and super short and if you’re thinking abo it chopping your hair off then this is a sign, the pixie length with your dainty facial features would eat downnnn. As far as makeup peach tones, browns, and golds will bring out your complexions and undertones in your skin. Also I see wavy hairstyles are pretty on you as well
Xoxo
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Ps this is a LATE libra ♎️ season post 🤭 oopsie happy Scorpio ♏️ season xoxo 💋
———————————————————Tip Jar 🍪
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kareblog · 1 year
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Teethhealing - Pro+
When it comes to keeping your Fawn Cane Corso healthy, there are a few basics that you should keep in mind. For one, make sure the temperature inside their home is kept between 68 Fahrenheit to c (or 20-25 Celsius). This will help them regulate their body temperature and ensure they’re comfortable at all times. Additionally, you should be brushing and flossing their teeth at least once a week to prevent decay and gum disease. It’s also important to take them for regular check-ups with the vet, and if they require a wisdom teeth extraction or other dental surgery make sure it is carried out promptly by an experienced veterinarian. Finally, as a freelancer it is important to stay on top of your pet’s health so that you are not met with any unexpected medical bills. Be sure to check in with your vet regularly and keep an eye out for any warning signs of illness or discomfort. With the right care, your Fawn Cane Corso will remain happy and healthy for years to come. For more information, you can visit the Teet healing website.
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millysastroblog · 2 years
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Short Bodystrology Observation
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Disclamer: Not everything I describe here has to resonate with your physical appearance. These are just random observations that I have noticed not facts 😉( for further informations and predictions look at natal ASC) Thanks 😘!
💚Whichever house Saturn sits in your natal chart can indicate what tends to be our smaller, thinner or tinier body part:
💚Saturn in the 12th house can give someone smaller feet. 💚Saturn in the 10th : smaller teeth or teet that look very strong and healthy. 💚Saturn in the 3rd house can have skinny and smaller hands. 💚Saturn in the 4th can give a female smaller breasts and a boney chest.
💚Saturn Dominatns in general are prone to be skinier, thiner and having a defined boned strucutre.
💚7th house in natal chart could show how our butts look based on sigs and planet’s:
💚Cancer in the 7th= soft, jiggly, nice, paler butt. 💚Jupiter in the 7th = big butt, round, lots of fat tissue, excessive skin. 💚Scorpio in the 7th= sexy and attractive butt, darker butt . 💚Saturn in the 7th= smaller butt, strong muscles in butt, defined, less skin tissue.
💚Whatever Jupiter aspects and sits in can enhance certain features on our physical body:
💚Jupiter aspecting Asc can make your head bigger and rounder. 💚Jupiter in the 4th: bigger boobs and chest. 💚Jupiter in the 2nd: louder and stronger voice, bigger neck and shoulders. 💚Mars aspecting Jupiter: athlectic body, strong and defined muscles. 💚Jupiter in the 10th: strong, big kness and bones.
💚8th house sign could indicate what body part looks the most attractive and sexy :
💚Aquarius in the 8th attractive long legs. 💚Libra in the 8th house beautiful butts. 💚Leo in the 8th nice backs. 💚Taurus in the 8th attractive shoulders, necks. 💚Sagittarius in the 8th, sexy hips and thighs (maybe even butts).
💚2nd house represents how our nose,eyes,lips and cheeks(overall all face)looks:
💚Aphrodite in the 2nd/ Lilith in the 2nd/ Venus in the 2nd house have beautiful plump lips. 💚Jupiter in the 2nd can give a brighter; wider smiles and bigger cheeks. 💚Venus in the 2nd tend to have beautiful voices and soft facial features . 💚Mars in the 2nd house on the other hand possess a harder, stronger, and outstanding facial features.
•~Milly~•
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7s3ven · 7 months
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ALL I WANTED WAS YOU. luke (pjo)
( master list ) - soulmate au
IN WHICH… Two opposites fall in love and where one sees an anchor, the other sees jail bars. And eventually, the pair must ask themselves, is this really worth destroying ourselves over?
“All I wanted was you.”
Warnings : Implied sex, spoilers, angst, a bit of gore
A/N : this fic is my Roman Empire
Ever since Luke had discovered the concept of soulmates, he had hated it. Why not let people decide who they wanted to love? Most people didn’t follow the laws of fated partners anymore, but those who did always ended up hurt.
Luke still had yet to meet his. He often stared into the mirror, his gaze trailing over his soulmate mark below his ear that looked more like a tattoo in his opinion. He was never interested in it before, even going as far as to try and harshly scrub it off. But ever since he arrived at Camp Half-Blood, he had been staring at it nonstop.
It stung and burned sometimes, probably a good sign to most but a bad one to Luke. It meant that your soulmate was close.
Stumbling into them was inevitable but Luke did all he could to avoid them, whoever they were. And then finally, the day Luke dreaded arrived. It was a new Aphrodite girl who shared Luke’s tattoo. His heart sank as soon as he spotted it adorning her neck.
Was it the commitment that scared him? Probably. Luke had never witnessed a healthy relationship, something that was impossible when you were a demigod surrounded by unfaithful deities.
And yet, Luke continued to hide from both her and from the soulmate connection. The more he ducked under heavy vegetation for cover, the more he noticed about her. How she loved to dive into the lake to collect perfect pearls. And how she always wore the same necklace her younger sibling had given to her the day of her arrival.
Luke found himself admiring her and while his brain tried to say no, his heart gravitated towards her. In a short span of time, Y/N had successfully captured him within her charming spell. It’s not like she was trying to anyway.
Weeks later, Luke finally had the courage to approach her. He started off with small talk and if Y/N felt the same stinging sensation in her mark as Luke, she didn’t comment on it. It felt like months until they finally acknowledged they were soulmates and while Y/N was overjoyed, Luke had to take a step back.
He resorted to standing in front of the lake, skipping smooth stones along the surface of the water.
“Luke?” A voice called out. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. He could instantly tell when his heart skipped a beat.
“Y/N. Hey.” He quietly greeted her, skipping another pebble into the water.
“Are you okay?” She questioned, stepping closer to Luke who wanted nothing more than to be away from her. She was a sweet girl but Luke felt suffocated in her affectionate presence.
“I’m okay.” He skilfully lied through his teeth, causing Y/N to smile.
“I was just making sure. You were in a rush to get away from sword training, which is usually your favourite.”
Luke could smell her soft floral perfume now. It engulfed him, making it hard to breathe. Or was it his imagination? Nevertheless, Y/N noticed his furrowed brows.
“Are you sure everything’s alright, Luke?” She gently questioned, hesitantly wrapping her arms around his torso. Luke went stiff for a second before he forced himself to relax. Y/N’s perfectly manicured nails dipped under his shirt and trailed across his back. It should have felt calming but instead it felt like sharp claws dragging across his skin, slitting his flesh open and letting blood ooze out.
Luke didn’t know he was holding his breath until Y/N pulled away. If she acknowledged his strange behaviour, she still said nothing. That was what she always did. No matter how Luke acted, she remained silent, not wanting to ruin the fragile relationship they had. If it was even considered that.
It was clear in that moment that Luke struggled with abandonment while Y/N suffered from getting attached too easily. Luke swallowed his protest as Y/N drew out the already long hug, not wanting to upset her.
When Y/N finally pulled away, Luke held her hands in his. They were soft with lotion and yet Luke could feel rust beginning to set into the cold handcuffs that bound him to her.
“People say I feel like sandpaper.” Y/N uttered as Luke enjoyed the feeling of her warm hands against his, even if it was for a minute before his dread kicked in as it always did. “So I make my hands gentle with lotion.”
Luke silently nodded before he let go of Y/N’s fingers.
“I’ll see you at dinner.” He put on a fake smile just for her and Y/N slipped away, giggling under her breath. It gave Luke a moment to catch his breath. And then the thoughts came. The dark, impulsive ideas that swirled around in his mind until he could only focus on them.
She’ll be happy if I leave.
She’ll find someone else.
She won’t agree to come with me… will she?
Even if Y/N was willing to follow him into hell, Luke wouldn’t let her. He didn’t want her to throw away her life as well simply to please him.
Luke had always been told he had to learn not to run away so he stayed put, knowing it would only increase the risk of Y/N becoming more attached to him. Thus making his acts of betrayal harder to swallow.
Evening came and the sun dipped below the bright green hills. Luke arrived late to dinner, already finding a plate of steaming food sitting next to Chris. There was the small outline of a heart next to his food and Luke already knew what that meant. Y/N had taken the liberty of her time to care for a boy who couldn’t care for her back.
Nevertheless, Luke sat next to his friend and ate in silence. Occasionally, his gaze would flicker to Y/N, who was already staring at him like a hawk.
Luke should have blushed. Anyone else would have if a gorgeous girl was looking at them like that. But he saw another thing behind those loving eyes, something monstrous and obsessive. Something no other camper noticed except for him.
Y/N’s pretty tinted lips curved into a happy smile and while outsiders to their complicated relationship saw a joyful girl, Luke saw the one person keeping him chained to camp. He would have left Annabeth without hesitation if he had to but something about Y/N kept him grounded and held him back.
It would only be a few more days until Luke’s master plan created chaos between the gods and their children, giving Luke the perfect opportunity to slip away. At least, it should have been the perfect chance if it weren’t for Y/N. No matter what Luke did, his mind couldn’t fathom the thought of leaving her behind.
He suspected it was the soulmate connect.
Luke had barely finished his dinner before he suddenly stood up and walked over to Y/N, who was chatting with her siblings. He tapped her shoulder, immediately gaining her full attention. She stared up at him with doe eyes and slightly pouted lips, causing Luke’s heart to jolt.
“Follow me.” Luke quietly uttered, not wanting to freak Y/N out with the infamous words we need to talk.
Y/N trailed after him like a lost puppy as he led her to his empty cabin. He shut the door behind him, locking it for good measures. He wanted to give Y/N something warm to remember him by instead of only recalling his cold and distant nature.
So he kissed her. And she, to nobody’s surprise, swiftly kissed back. Y/N took careful steps towards Luke’s bed, her lips still locked with his. The back of her legs hit his mattress and she fell onto it, bouncing slightly as the springs loudly squeaked.
“Are you sure?” She murmured. She wasn’t stupid. Y/N could see Luke adjusting his pants and unzipping them when he thought she wasn’t looking. Luke nodded his bed as he cupped her face in his large hands, trying to memorise her beautiful features before he left.
Luke pressed his lips to Y/N’s once more. Unlike her usually warm body, her lips were cold and unwelcoming like the jail bars that enclosed Luke. But he pushed on, relentless as he tried to chase every teenage thing he had missed in one night.
His first kiss.
His first time.
His first love whom he was starting to grow feelings for, and that scared him.
Every sound and whisper Y/N made drove Luke mad. This time, as her hands touched his back, he could feel her nails dig into his skin, scratching neat lines down.
Y/N fell asleep before him. The other kids had yet to return from dinner, as there was a campfire happening now, so Luke quickly washed himself off in the shower reserved for camp counsellors. He dampened a cloth, running it over Y/N’s body as she peacefully tossed and turned, mistaking a pillow for Luke and snuggling into it.
Luke watched with a sort of fondness before he snapped himself back to reality. He grabbed a glass of water that he had already prepared and, with a quick gesture, dropped a few sleeping pills into the cooled liquid.
He sat Y/N up and carefully tipped the cup against her mouth, watching as she swallowed every last drop while she was still unconscious. Her body drooped in his arms, the pills taking effect immediately.
Luke held her for a few seconds, enjoying the peaceful silence that now fell upon the cabin.
“Sorry, Y/N.” He muttered as he brought her back to the Aphrodite cabin and tucked her into bed, hoping she would still be asleep by the time he left.
As Luke predicted, the camp fell into chaos. The cabins took sides as Annabeth, Percy, and Grover had yet to return. It was like a battlefield, every person for themselves. Luke watched the discord unfold, knowing he was at the sole heart of it.
Y/N was still asleep by the time Percy arrived back at camp, which concerned most of her siblings. She had been moved to the infirmary and the Apollo kids brushed her case off as a small overdose that she’d recover from eventually.
“You knew Clarisse didn't steal the bolt… You did.” Percy’s eyes widened. This was the moment Luke had been working towards. For Percy to finally realize who as a friend and who was an enemy. His reaction to all this would determine what Percy was to Luke. “You worked with Ares to plant it on me so when the shoes you gave me pulled me down into Tartarus, the bolt would be delivered right to Kronos.
“I didn’t think you’d give ‘em to Grover to wear.” Luke sighed, “I am your friend. Percy, none of this was meant to betray you. The Gods are my enemies.”
“You…” Percy couldn’t choke out another word as he stumbled back, unable to belief his first friend at camp had been the mastermind behind all this.
“I’m here to recruit.” Luke grinned in a way that unsettled Percy.
“I don't wanna fight.” Luke muttered, “This is what I wanted to show you. This... is our way out. Way out of what? Camp. And their control.” Behind Luke, a portal appeared. “Backbiter can open secret doors. We can stay on the run as long as it takes.”
“Stop saying we.” Percy snapped. He wanted no part in Luke’s little game with Kronos.
“It's the word Zeus fears the most. The gods want us to fight for them, worship them, fear them. And they couldn't care less what we want. They're bad parents, Percy. And they've gotten away with it for far too long.”
Luke had a point there but Percy still wildly shook his head. “No. This isn't you. This is Kronos. He got to you.”
“No, he opened my eyes to the truth. A golden age. That's what they called it when he ruled. We're gonna help Kronos bring the Golden Age back. Stealing the bolt and the helm was easy. For what comes next... we're gonna need all the help we can get.”
Their swords clashed against one another, sparks flying everywhere.
Percy panted as he spoke, “Our parents aren't perfect, but they're trying their best. I met your dad. But he...“
At the mentioning of Hermes, there was a new type of anger flashing in Luke’s eyes. He grunted as he swung his weapon at Percy. “You did get better.” He heaved.
The portal thrummed again, reminding Luke that he didn’t have much time left. “Last chance.” He warned Percy.
The blond boy didn’t respond. He blocked one of Luke’s blows, accidentally cutting the brunette’s cheek. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Percy was quick to apologise as if it were a simple sparring session.
Luke was ready to swing back at Percy harder until he heard the sound of twigs snapping. Annabeth revealed herself as she took off her invisible cap.
“Annabeth?” Luke whispered, furrowing his eyebrows. The anger in his gaze was suddenly replaced with remorse and sadness.
Annabeth hesitatingly lifted up her dagger. “I heard everything.”
Luke was about to step into the portal before he heard the sound of Y/N’s voice in the distance. In a desperate, and probably stupid, attempt at making the most of his few moments left, Luke opened another portal and jumped into it.
He immediately crashed into Y/N who held him up by his shoulders.
“Is it true?” She wailed.
Luke could only stare at the ground as his soulmate mark burnt with such intensity that it made him want to shout. “I’m sorry.” Was all he could muster up. Y/N’s emotional sobs racked her body until she let out a small gasp and wiped away her tears.
“I’ll come with you.” She uttered, “You don’t have to be alone. We can leave now!” Y/N grasped Luke’s wrist, tugging him forward. He remained still and unmoving.
“I can’t let you do that for me.” He said. “I won’t let you leave everything you’ve ever known behind for me.”
“But…” Y/N’s bottom lip trembled, “I want to… you have no idea what I would do for you.” Y/N almost pleaded, wanting to prove her complete devotion to Luke.
“I know. You would have walked to the ends of the earth. You would have walked off a cliff. You would have jumped into a pool of fire all for me.”
The tears running down Y/N’s cheeks made Luke feel pity for her. His sympathy towards her soon rotted into apathy as he spoke again. “That’s the problem. You’re willing to loose yourself to find me when I didn’t even know how to find myself. Let alone find another.”
Y/N quietly sniffed.
“The issue isn’t that I don’t know how much you love me… it’s that you love me too much.” Luke told Y/N the words he hadn’t been brave enough to say before.
But Y/N was not willing to back down. “Maybe if you knew how to love me, I wouldn’t have to make up for it with an abundance of myself.” She snapped.
“Maybe you‘re right.” Luke mumbled, unable to look her in the eyes as his ego deflated and he felt weak, like he was a new camper all over again. “Maybe I don’t know how to let you love me and maybe you love me too much and I love you too less.”
Luke slowly stepped away from Y/N. She reached out for him, hoping to grasp him before he slipped away. And she ran after him until he disappeared, his once calming presence slipping away and becoming one with the air.
Y/N kneeled to the ground as she cried. Her heart practically shattered in her chest, feeling like a million needles stabbing into her skin. Her tears felt like poison, stinging the flushed apples of her cheeks until her skin ran raw.
Luke tried to ignore the pang in his heart but with every step, it grew until every breath he took was accompanied by a sharp jab. He lightly wheezed as he clawed his way through the trees, away from camp and away from every good thing in his life.
The rejection of a soulmate always hurt the most, both physically and mentally. As Luke said, the people who followed the rules of soulmates always ended up wounded.
Y/N walked away with a newfound awareness about her identity. That her hugs were more suffocating than comforting and no matter how pretty they are, her hands will always resemble cruel talons when grabbing things. Her ‘I love you’s are always said with her finger on the trigger of a gun and her careful kisses leave sore bruises instead of delicate lipstick stains.
Luke emerged from the portal, away from camp and his friends and family, with a newfound sense. His desire for intimacy is more like a repulsion and with every new door he opens, his hands will always tremble on the handle. No matter how pretty the walls are inside, he would always find himself standing next to the fire exit, ready to flee the first chance he gets.
To love a ghost without pouring some of your own essence into their empty and weary bones is an impossible request.
Y/N eventually came to the upsetting conclusion that she should have stayed away from Luke while Luke wished he had found more reasons to stay.
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slutforsilverfoxes · 10 months
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Breaking Free
[A/N: I’m driving home for my externship (and Thanksgiving!) so you know what that means- too much time on the road to daydream 🙃 Pls enjoy Gibbs being an infuriating slut]
Pairing: Jethro Gibbs x female reader
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You repeatedly pat your boyfriend’s arm, pointing to his left at a sign that’s sure to snag you the win of your road trip competition. It’s become an annual tradition to pass the time by finding the most outrageous billboards on your way to Thanksgiving with your parents and Jethro’s father in Pennsylvania.
“That’s gotta be the best one,” you say confidently. “It even has a handcuff reference for you!”
The large sign promises that if you’re Shackled by LUST? then Jesus can FREE you.
Jethro grunts by way of acknowledgment then poses, “You scream oh my god a lot when I’m inside you- d’ya think that counts?”
“Not, like, a lot a lot,” you protest ever so eloquently, incensed by the smirk blooming on his face and his clever avoidance of admitting defeat.
Clearly your darling boyfriend takes that as a challenge.
The hand resting on your denim clad thigh begins creeping higher and you cut your eyes over to Jethro to find his focus is still dutifully on the expanse of highway ahead. “Whatcha doin’ there, Jay?”
“Driving,” he answers easily, hand moving higher yet. The corner of his lips visible to you arches upward when he meets the cool metal of the button on your jeans, but his smile falters when he fumbles to get it open. “Little help here?”
Raising one eyebrow, you counter, “You wanna prove a point, you put in the work, mister.”
He huffs out a breath, then twists his wrist and finally succeeds in popping the button open with a triumphant laugh. Jethro doesn’t even bother to try with the zipper after that; he simply shoves his hand into your pants so the zipper gets forced down its track.
You gasp when his fingers slide through your folds, and Jethro produces a quiet growl in the back of his throat when he finds you already wet for him. That sound alone has you moaning out a low, “Oh my god,” and your boyfriend outright laughs at you while his middle finger circles your clit. “That was only once- oh fuck, oh my god- okay, twice, you jerk,” you feebly defend yourself.
Jethro sinks two fingers knuckle deep into your pussy with an amused hum, and you slap your palm against the roof of the truck while crying out a third iteration of the deity-invoking phrase. “I can’t- oh fuck me- stand you sometimes,” you bite out, lifting your hips to help Jethro’s fingers slip in and out of you with ease.
“Good thing you’re sitting then,” he fires back, chancing a glance away from the road to smirk at you.
You draw your bottom lip between your teeth in a feeble attempt to muffle your cries, but Jethro brushes his palm over your clit while curling his fingers and another breathy, “Oh my god,” slips out of your traitorous mouth.
“That’s it, baby,” your boyfriend praises you, no longer bothering to mask his delight. “Free yourself from those shackles.”
A laugh punches out of you that morphs into a wanton moan when he curls his fingers again, and your cries rise higher and higher in pitch until you’re clenching around Jethro’s fingers, calling out a litany of curses with a healthy dose of his name mixed in. You drop back into the seat, boneless, with a final, “Oh my god.”
Jethro slips his slick-coated fingers out of your still throbbing cunt and points out your window to another billboard flying by, then runs his sinful tongue along his fingers, groaning at your taste. “I’m always right,” he asserts with a content hum, “and I win.”
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LJG tags 🖤 @ilovemark1951 @doctorwhofan24
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