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lalunanymph · 1 year ago

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꒰ nanami is forced to put his sweet wife back in her place (under him) ꒱

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── fem!reader, wife!reader, ceo!reader, lifestyle dom!nanami, househusband!nanami, brat taming, hair pulling, overstimulation, sir kink, restraints, finger gagging, nipple play, use of vibrators, chair bondage, reader gets spanked, fear of cheating, unprotected s[e]x, collaring, oral s[e]x, kento mentions divorce playfully, nanami slaps his c*ck on reader's face and tongue, degradation, pet names (baby, little slut, love, darling, good girl), aftercare

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── 5k+ words because of mappa’s horniness they made him so big and beefy what did you expect me to do

“Fuck, baby, that’s a good girl.”

Your husband’s scratchy moan is followed by a tug to your hair. He’s got your locks in his firm, veiny grip, using it to guide your mouth up and down his flushed cock like you were nothing but a human fleshlight made just for him.

The kitchen clock ticks and you’re on your knees, still in your office blazer and figure-hugging skirt.

It was usually customary for you to greet your husband like this—like he’s pure treasure and deserves your devotion on these marbled tiles.

They were the same ones you bought with your twelve-month bonus, right when the company you spearheaded burst into the tech scene and started raking in the billions.

Through it all, Nanami Kento was with you, building your home while you changed the world.

More than anything, he was the rock which kept you from falling apart.

But, if they could see you now… how your mouth was slicked with a mixture of cum and spit and your eyes were woozy with bliss, they couldn’t tell that you were the same woman who once fired three directors on account of an embezzlement accusation.

He pulled you off his flushed tip, those chiselled cheeks dusted with pink. Reacting like this, he was nothing more than an enamoured husband adoring his wife on her knees. But, you had been bad to him today, and bad girls didn’t deserve what they wanted. They needed to be put back in their place.

Nanami tugged you up higher, enough to have you balancing on the slivers of your shins. His mouth found yours, insistent and hot with his lustful intention.

“Do you want your collar, baby?” His mouth was a stroke away from yours, warm breath caressing your tongue.

You nodded, not trusting your voice to break. The planes of your husband’s defined chest shook in a soft laugh as he let go of your hair—for now.

“Go and grab it, sweetheart. I'll wait for you.”

You did as he said, standing up on shaky legs that were riddled with pins and needles. He steadied you, looking ridiculously handsome even with his half-chub out and tiny pink apron still on. Nanami was just a man who could make even a trash bag work.

You stumbled into the bedroom, going straight for a drawer that was shut tightly. Using the key next to your perfume stand, you unlocked it, removing a smooth, dark leather strap with the words ‘Kento’s girl’ embedded into it with diamonds.

You heard your husband come back into the room, his body pressed behind yours as he took the collar from your shaking hands. Pushing your hair aside, he fastened it around your neck with a kiss to your earlobe.

“Shall we go back to what we were doing earlier?”

You slid back into your knees in response, shuffling to face him again. Those dark eyes appraised you with pride, tinged with an even darker possession.

“Always so pretty for me,” he hummed. “Aren’t you, my little slut?”

A dirty thrill shot down your spine, and you parted your mouth open on instinct. “Yes, Sir.”

Kento chuckled, giving his hard-hard cock a few pumps before nursing it back into your mouth. You sucked on the tip, tasting his musk and salt. Hollowing your cheeks, you took him deeper, till he hit the back of your throat, and whatever else you couldn’t fit, you fisted around the base of his cock to work it up and down.

Your husband hissed out a curse, and wound your hair back into his tight grip, watching you suck him off with barely concealed wonder. “Doing so good for me, love,” he murmured, a sharp tug on the nape of your neck making you wince and your pussy flood your red lace thong. “And to think you were just mouthing off to me earlier.”

You squirmed on your knees, needing to touch between your legs to ease the flame of desire only your husband could burn.

Kento used his sheer strength to pull you off his cock, and as if still punishing you, he slapped the tip of his fat dick onto your cheeks, coaxing your mouth open so he could do the same thing on your tongue. You didn’t complain, glad to be used as a stress reliever for your husband.

Pre-cum smeared your cheeks and spit was glossing your chin when you took him back down your throat again, this time with more urgency.

Kento was breathing deeper, his half-hooded eyes almost closing from your talented mouth. No one could suck cock as well as his wife could, and he would stand firm in that.

Your sheer hunger and eagerness blew everyone else out of the water, the devotion only you showed him shaping his unshakable love for you.

It's just too bad you had unintentionally insulted him where it hurt the most.

“Do you think you’re forgiven because I let you suck my cock?”

Before you could answer, you were wrenched off his dick, pushed back into your knees. Your cry of indignation was stopped when he shoved two thick fingers down your throat, gagging you with a wet choke.

You worked hard to please him—to apologise to him because you didn’t mean those words; they were just a product of a stressful day.

It’s not like you understand what the fuck I’m going through, Kento. You’re just a househusband who spends all day cleaning!

Careful, those dark eyes had narrowed at you. Do you want to repeat that, darling?

I said—

But, he never gave you a chance to finish.

As if remembering your painful words, Kento grunted, bringing you to your feet just so he could spread you face down, ass up onto your huge makeup counter. The mirror reflected back your desperate stare into your husband’s impassive face, his collar searing through your skin.

“Kento—“

Rough hands from days of labour pushed your skirt up, tugging your thong unceremoniously down your cheeks where the fabric burned against your sensitive skin. “Ah—!”

The first spank landed on your left globe, leaving a stinging pain on the tender flesh. He didn’t stop there—Kento viciously spanked your right cheek, then back to your left, alternating between them until you swore they were glowing hot like dying embers.

You were wincing and crying out softly, hair stuck to your temple and cheeks with sweat. The woman in the mirror had tears in her eyes, and her husband barely pay attention to her—just like how she had messed up and thought lowly of him for a split, disastrous second.

“I don’t know what you’re going through? Did you forget I used to be a salaryman, too, darling?”

His tone dripped with sardonic anger. Another spank, this time on your lower back. The tears broke down your face.

“I’m going to drill into that pretty head who owns you so you don’t mouth back to him. A househusband?” This hit was personal, right on your prickling left cheek. “Is that all you see me as? Do you think of me that lowly?”

Frustrated, Kento yanked your hair back at the same time he plunged two thick fingers into your glistening pussy.

“Oh—Kento!”

Your cry fell from your lax mouth, your eyes snapping close in ecstasy while he finger-fucked you roughly, tugging on your hair to deliver sharp prickles of torture down your spine.

The pain mixed with the pleasure till you couldn’t tell which one was which, your body spiraling closer and closer into delirium.

“Kento!” You sobbed, sure to have woken up the neighbors if your bedroom was soundproofed. “Oh, oh, ah—f-fuck, K-Kento, I-I—“

His forefinger was hitting that softest spot inside of you, and you ached to touch your clit to throw yourself down the agonizing high.

Without thinking it through, one hand drifted in between your thighs, and you managed about three shaky circles on your sensitive bud with your middle finger when Kento noticed and yanked your hand away. Your soft cry was muffled when he pushed your face into the hard word, breathing unsteadily.

“Who said you could touch yourself? Did I say you were given permission to?”

“N-No—“

But, Kento refused to listen to your excuses. “You’re misbehaving more and more tonight. I think I need to teach you an even bigger lesson.”

You could barely cry out a complaint when he manhandled you into his arms, bringing you back into the kitchen. Plopping you down onto the huge dining chair, he left you stewing in your thoughts, tense as to what he had next up his sleeve.

Nanami returned not a minute later with a pair of arm binders and leg cuffs, and your eyes widened when he immediately took your hands, placing them in the restrictive loop behind the chair. He worked on your legs next, fastening them to the wooden stems, while you continued to pathetically bleat apologies that rained on his deaf ears.

Once you were secured, Nanami took you in.

Everything about you was softness and seduction, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was the luckiest bastard alive. I love her, Kento’s eyes shone when you blinked up at him, all innocent and cute like you weren’t exposed in such a lewd way. I love her so very much.

“K-Ken,” you whined, shifting in your seat. The gesture unintentionally hiked your skirt further up your plush thighs.

As much as he loved you, Nanami had to put you back in your place—get you to respect him, even as his cock is raging to sink into your tight heat.

He tapped your cheek, a stern look emblazoned on his handsome face. “That is not what you’re allowed to call me.” His big hand wrapped around your neck, digging into your pulse point—restricting the breath from going down your airways. Asserting his point.

“Sir!” You managed to choke out. “S-Sir—”

Your wheeze turned into a cough when he let you go, your watery eyes looking up at him filled with nothing but remorse.

Nanami toyed with the idea of letting you go once the regret settled in, but the other half of him—that darker impulse which bludgeoned his Jujutsu years with bloodshed and violence—reared its head. It was the same sickly thrill he got whenever he beat up a curse and managed to squeeze in no more than an hour of overtime to get back home to you.

For your credit, you always let him exact his pent-up rage onto your willing body—never bending or breaking your resolve.

Even when he walks back into the bedroom to retrieve your most hated G-spot vibrator, or when he sank it almost lovingly into your waiting pussy, you could never hate your husband—even if he drove you half mad.

Nanami stared at his phone screen, connecting the vibrator to the app it came with. You could tell he was completely focused on breaking you, his eyes never straying when he adjusted the settings.

Soon, a pleasant hum goes off in between your thighs, and you toss your head back, a dulcet whimper leaving your lips and saturating the air with your pure neediness. Your husband doesn’t react beyond crossing his arms over his hulking chest, studying you with those intense darkened eyes you could go insane for.

The vibrator notch constantly rubbed on your G-spot, leaving your clit throbbing with abject neglect. You almost didn’t notice your husband pushing off the sleeves of your blazer, unbuttoning the crisp white dress shirt he had ironed this morning to expose the rise of your heaving tits covered in the red lacy bra he loved so much on you.

“You wore this today?” He fingered the lacy strap, and you hiccuped a stuttering y-yes. Your husband chuckled, easing down the cups so your nipples sprung forward, ready to be teased and touched. Kento hunched down next to you, his entirely bigger build almost draping across your lap as he ran his tongue over the rise of your plush flesh, growing closer and closer to your stiffening nipples. But, he never gave you what you wanted.

Everytime his tongue so much as grazed your areola, he would pull back, leaving you keening with disappointment. Your thighs were starting to shake, the constant pressure on such a susceptible spot slowly making you lose your mind. Without the stimulation Kento was selfishly withholding, you were sure you would be strung along for hours until he decided to show you mercy.

As it was, your husband was a stubborn man once he put his mind to something. You could barely think past the haze of your blurry thoughts, your mind filled with cotton when finally—finally—Kento sucked on your nipples. It was soft at first, barely any stimulation, but once he had a hit of you, Kento couldn’t stop. He suckled on your tits roughly, tonguing them harsh enough to make those sensitive buds throb.

Then, he bit down on them, eliciting a soft cry past your swollen lips. Your hips had basically taken on a life of their own, undulating minutely to the cruel game Kento played on your body.

Once you were on the precipice, needing just a bit more stimulation to topple over the edge, Kento pulled back. He stopped the vibrator with one tap on the screen, and you came crashing back down—body slumped against the chair.

“Sir,” you sobbed, unable to hold back those fat tears from chasing down your cheeks.

Nanami barely gave you time to adjust to the cresting sensations. He stood back up to his full height, toying with his phone and sliding his thumb pad across the screen. The same motions were replicated within the vibrator between your legs—the alternating softness and sudden vigorous overstimulation wrecking your body into dividing sensations.

You didn’t know whether to flinch or lean into the pleasure—whether to cry or to moan.

All you could do was let out a stream of weak Sir, please, oh—Sir, past your lax mouth, your body jerking like a puppet caught in the web of his control.

If it wasn’t enough to torture you, Kento wanted to tease you, too. He continuously pinched your hard nipples, flicking them up and down with the tip of his thumb to get them all perky and desperate for him.

He even knelt in between your thighs, looking up at you with those melting dark eyes while his thumb gently rubbed on your twitching clit. Your husband was doing everything in his power to get you to fold for him, and you were so close to putting aside your ego just to beg him to fuck you.

“S-Sir,” you sniffled.

Kento glanced up at you, noticing the tears beading your lash line. He swiped his thumb under one bulging tear, wiping it away.

In contrast to his filthy actions, his words were soft and sweet. “What do you want, darling?” he added, “Do you want to cum?”

You gave him a shaky nod.

“Do you think you deserve to cum?”

Disappointment curdled in your belly at his simple question. Kento was giving you a chance to apologise, and you could either take the high road and beg for his forgiveness, or let your bigheadedness keep you unsatisfied.

“I don’t,” you whispered, ducking your head in defeat. Kento hated to admit how a carnal wave of satisfaction curled right in his chest from your admission. “I was mean to you. Y-you did so much for me—” you lifted your hips, as if to alleviate the tense pleasure. “—I-I’m so sorry, Sir.”

His big hand smoothed down your belly, settling on your hip. He leaned forward, kissing your forehead tenderly. Instead of accepting your apology, he smeared your tears away with patient lips, trailing down kisses to your neck, his tongue running across the collar which held his claim on you.

“You’re forgiven, sweet girl,” your husband murmured, standing up to switch off the vibrator. You sagged back into the seat with a teary hiccup, peeling your glossy eyes on him so pathetically, his heart couldn’t help but squeeze. “Come on—let’s get you cleaned up.”

Kento removed your bindings, careful to help you stand up on your trembling legs. He held you close to his chest, rubbing those big, warm hands up and down your back to soothe your shuddering sobs. “There, there. You’re alright, baby. You’re fine.” He lifted you into his arms, careful to tuck your head on his shoulder as he carefully made his way back to the bedroom with you.

There, Nanami reverted back to his loving, devoted self—removing your blazer, dress shirt, and pencil skirt with reverence. He lifted your leg onto his shoulder, kissing your ankles before easing off your stockings smoothly. Once you were naked in front of him, it was his turn to undress.

Kento shed off the pink apron, removed his sweatpants and then his fitted cotton shirt, exposing his shredded torso lined with numerous thin, pale white scars. There was once he was afraid of showing them to you—his past bare for your fingers to trace. But, you loved kissing each and every mark left from wounds he could not explain to you. And Nanami was grateful.

He counted himself one of the luckiest sorcerers to make it out alive of that world and into a semi-normal one. He had a wife, a home, a decent car, plenty of time to unwind and relax—in short, he was living the dream he once saw as unattainable. And it was all thanks to you.

“Come here, baby.” Kento gathered you into his arms, careful to not put too much pressure on your sore butt. He traced your features, kissed your eyelids and cheeks until you stopped quietly sobbing, all wrung out and lying exhaustively on his chest. “Good girl—just take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”

His voice was a deep, enticing baritone, inciting goosebumps on your arms and putting your guard down. Your eyes slipped closed and you inhaled unsteadily, fingers digging into his shoulders.

“One of my executives found out her husband was cheating on her and she completely lost it at work today.”

Kento stopped stroking your shoulder. “What?”

You nodded, keeping your face buried in his chest to avoid meeting his eyes. “He was a… a stay-at-home husband, too. She trusted him with the nanny and—and that woman knew her kids inside and out. I was so disgusted. I… I thought that—”

“You thought that I would do the same thing to you?”

Nanami wasn’t an idiot. It wasn’t hard for him to piece two and two together—for him to see what was truly haunting you.

A minute of hesitation passed, and then, he felt you nod again.

Nanami’s shoulders relaxed, and he tightened his grip on your tinier body. “I love you so much, Y/N. You know that, right? You’re the best part of my life. I’m so grateful you chose to marry me.”

His sincerity stopped you up short. You peeked from past your curtain of hair, finding him smiling gently at you.

Perching half of your body up, you folded your arms on his chest, looking deeply into his eyes for the absolute truth. “If you ever fall out of love with me, Kento, please tell me. I won’t put up a fight if you want to leave me. Just don’t sneak around behind my back with someone else.”

How serious you looked, and those words… those words you spouted completely broke his heart. Kento’s expression fell, and he shook his head fiercely.

“You don’t get it, do you?”

With barely any grace, he rolled you onto the bed, spreading your thighs around his waist. His hips drove against yours, cock sheathing in one fluid motion into your waiting pussy. The both of you cursed and cried out at the same time, heads thrown back and desire coursing freely in this bedroom.

Nanami’s pace was brutal yet loving, his cock trying to bully into you what he had been desperately trying to show for the past few years you’ve both been blissfully married.

He loves you—he would do anything to make you happy because your happiness was his own.

“Nghh—Sir,” you whined, holding onto his biceps for dear life, trying hard not to fall around his cock without his permission. “Oh—oh, Kento, more, more—please, don’t stop—!”

He wasn’t planning to. If he could make you believe with his actions, Kento would keep at it until you finally accepted what he’d been feeling for all these years.

He smudged endless kisses onto your cheeks, nose and lips, each time tasting your desperation a bit more.

“Sir, can I please touch myself?”

How sweet—you were waiting for his permission. In answer, Nanami plucked your hand from your side, placing it right in between your legs, implicitly telling you to pleasure yourself while he ruined your world.

The both of you were hanging right on a thread, and the very second he felt your walls starting to melt around him, Kento pulled you in for a deep kiss, one which felt like it could break every resolve in your body. You became putty for him, dissolving into the kiss and his arms.

You broke the second you felt his hot cum paint your walls, every fibre of your soul screaming out your husband’s name. “Kento,” you whimpered in between sloppy kisses, your bodies slippery with sweat. “Kento—”

Nanami caught you the second you sagged into his arms. With his ludicrous strength and yet, his gentleness, he easily rolled you against his chest, letting you catch your breath on top of him. His lips found your temple and hair, large palms methodically massaging your sore muscles. He gripped your ass, squeezing fondly and unhurriedly, content to enjoy this moment with you.

When you had finally stilled and your breathing returned to normal, Kento whispered: “I love you, darling. You know that, right?”

Even with your raging insecurities, you couldn’t deny how sincere and sweet he sounded.

“I love you, too, Kento.”

Seriously now, he added: “And I won’t ever cheat on you because you’d take my car away first.”

You grinned, knowing that Nanami Kento was a man of his word and would never back down from it without a fight.

a/n: mappa made him so damn fuckable in the last ep as reparations for what they’re gonna do to him next im so sick

©️ lalunanymph, 2023

#nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x you #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #🦢 writes

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gojonanami · 1 year ago

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"IF YOU WANT, I CAN COME INSIDE?" - SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: nobara spots gojo with a sorcerer she's never seen before and of course hijinks ensue. aka hearing gojo's english va (kaiji tang) say the above line in apothecary diaries and i lost my mind. ✴︎ contents: just fluff, gojo being a dumbass, lots of playful knocking gojo down a peg, nobara being an absolute menace, innuendo, implication of sex ✴︎ wc: 713

NK: get over here now. [sends GPS location]

MF: Why?

NK: don’t question it. Just get over here.

YI: on our way.

“What is this—“ and Nobara pulls them back, shushing them, as they hide behind the side of one of the residential suites of Jujutsu Tech, designated for staff or visiting sorcerers, “Kugisaki—“

“Look at who that idiot is talking with—“

“Wow, she’s hot — who’s that?” Yuji blinks, tilting his head, “is she Gojo-sensei’s—“

“Can’t be she’s out of his league—“ Nobara scoffs, still peeking out, “do either of you know—“

Megumi answers, saying your name, “she’s a sorcerer - she’s been away on an overseas mission for a bit,” he shrugs at their curiosity, “I’ve worked with her before — I think that’s where she stays usually when she’s at Jujutsu Tech,”

“She must be pretty strong then, I think the only other person who I know who went overseas for a mission was Gojo-sensei,” Yuji scratches his head, squinting his eyes and straining to hear, “what are they talking about?”

“C’mon, one kiss?” Satoru pouts, his arms crossed to stop himself from reaching out, “it’s been so long and I can’t even touch you,”

“Your students are watching us — you’re the one who didn’t bother to tell them you’re married,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “is this how you want to introduce me?”

And he’s leaning even closer, smirking, warm breath against your ear, “if you want, I can come inside,” and you flush at his inneundo, gaping at him, before you shove him playfully, but he catches you by the wrist, pulling you closer.

“Toru—“ and he presses his lips to yours, smiling, as you melt into his touch.

“Let them watch, I need to welcome my wife back,” and he’s kissing you more insistently, arms sliding behind you to press you to him, your palm resting against his chest.

“EHHHHH?” Yuji and Nobara watch, jaws on the ground, as Megumi plugs his ears, shaking his head.

“Can you two be any louder?” He grumbles, as you and Gojo turn to look at them.

“Megumi!” You grin, walking over, “it’s good to see you — how are the boys?”

He cracks a small smile, “The demon dogs are fine — they liked the treats you got them, thank you,” the two of you talk as Gojo makes his way over as well, hands behind his head as Nobara and Yuji stare at him.

“How do you know her so well?” Yuji points at Megumi.

“Well, her and Gojo kinda helped look after me,” he looks away crossing his arms, as you hide your smile — poorly, as given by Megumi’s slight glare.

“Hey what’s the deal?” Nobara glares, still focused on Gojo, “how’d you bag her? Did you lie? Did you suddenly grow a personality? Did you bribe her?”

Gojo scoffs, laughing, head thrown back, “I just won her over with my infinite charm, of course!”

“Wore me down is more like it, Toru,” you elbow him lightly, “wore me down to the point that I’d marry him,” you roll your eyes, as the pair of students stare at you.

“YOU’RE MARRIED?” they shout at Gojo, pointing, who only rubs the back of his head, smiling.

“Did I…forget to mention that?” He tugs his chain out from under his uniform, a platinum ring attached to it, “I don’t wear my ring because I don’t want it getting messed up from my cursed energy,”

The three of them start bickering as you and Megumi stand, watching, “so this is what it’s like when you’re with them, huh?”

Megumi sighs, “Pretty much,” and you give a soft smile.

“No wonder you’ve seemed happier lately,” you give a small laugh at his bewildered expression before Satoru is wrapping his arms around you.

“Sweetheart, my students are being so mean to me,” and you scoff, rubbing his head.

“I’m 100% sure you deserve it,” and he’s pouting again, but leans into his touch, “come on, let’s have dinner together,” you grab his arm, “It was nice to meet you guys. Let me know if Satoru ever gives you any trouble.”

“Huh? I’m not trouble,” he grumbles, as you kiss his cheek, before he’s leaning close again, lips brushing against your ear, “can I make good on my offer now?”

“…after dinner.”

✴︎ a/n: just a short little thing i wrote before i post on friday :). could not resist writing this quick little thing last night before bed :).

#gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru fanfiction #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jjk fluff #satoru gojo fluff #gojo fluff #gojo x y/n #sab [mlist]

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months ago

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Icy III

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Teen!Reader

Summary: He watches your match

He sits up in the box with Laporta, stretched out on the foldout chair like it's his personal throne.

He's wearing a new suit, freshly ironed and tailored to fit his body perfectly. His hair has been cut and styled to give that almost effortless look about him.

"Trust fund, I reckon," Patri says from your warm up circle," That guy that's up there with Laporta."

"No way," Pina disagrees," That's new money, not old. Probably a hedge fun manager."

"Or some kind of oil and gas giant," Mapi laughs.

"None," You say," Real estate at first then tech and then big pharma over in the states."

"What made you guess that?" Mapi asks and you stubbornly kick the ball away.

"I didn't. Laporta's not going to get money out of him anyway. The wife is the one that invests in sports but only ones she gets good profits out of. Two NFL teams, a Formula One team. She owns a tennis stadium in Paris. Big investor in the Olympics."

"Oh come on," Patri complains," There's no way you just know that off the top of your head."

"It doesn't matter. If Laporta wants money he should talk to the wife."

You can feel his gaze on you throughout the match.

It's a team at the bottom of the table and you're so technical that they can't get close but you can still feel the weight of his stare on you at all times.

'You carry the weight of our family'.

He's told you that many times.

'If you cannot exceed expectations then we have no use for you'.

He's told you that too, something you remember as you cross the ball into Pina, who taps it in easily.

You celebrate together, hugging and you feel Ingrid's familiar presence behind you as she gives you her customary kiss on the head.

You look up at him in the crowd, just out of reflex but you can't see much.

He's still splayed out like he's a king on a throne, looking down at you like you're a peasant in the street, fighting with someone else for just a scrap of bread.

That's his idea of entertainment, like holding up a magnifying glass towards an ant hill in the middle of a sunny day.

You feel small under his gaze, dipping your head in submission as you walk back into your position.

You assist in the next three goals.

Alexia.

Aitana.

Even Keira.

You're good at that. You've perfected the art of assisting.

Mapi's even joked before that you're going for the record of assists from one person this season.

Alexia says she's going to make you be more selfish and shoot more but you don't think you really need to do that, not when Caro can do it instead of you.

This is one of the rare matches where Caro's being rotated so gets no minutes. You fill her place though, like you always do, setting up goals and carrying the ball down the wing.

Barcelona win, of course, and you drift back to Ingrid and Mapi like you normally do.

Mapi grins at you, arm thrown over your shoulder and a frown on her face as you go rigid under her.

Laporta is on the pitch with him, stuttering over his words and hurrying to keep up.

He stops in front of you.

"Y/n."

Your head drops automatically, thoroughly chastised as you step out from under Mapi's arms.

His hand clamps down on your shoulder and you can tell how this is going to go before he even opens his mouth.

"Of course we're very proud of her," His honeyed tone tells Laporta," We've wanted nothing but the best for her."

For them, you correct in your head.

"She's always had such a passion for football. We love watching her play."

He's never seen you play in his life.

"We-We're very happy to have her here!" Laporta tells him," She's a real talent. You're produced quite the footballer."

He laughs, waving away the compliments as his hand feels like a shackle around you. "You're too kind. Sports has never quite been my thing. I'll have to talk to the wife about what we were talking about, I'm sure you'll understand."

"Of course! Of course! Take all the time you need!"

He will. You know he will.

He'll discuss with her and they'll write up a contract if it's really something they're interested, about what they pay in and what they get out of it.

She's always been better at the sports side of it, despite her background in real estate. She knows how to talk people around in circles. How to get through the little boy's club that every sport has. She'll get what she wants if Barcelona is even something she's interested in.

You hope it isn't.

"I'll leave you alone with your daughter," Laporta says and you want to call after him.

You want to tell him not to leave with your father.

Barcelona was supposed to be yours. You were supposed to be safe here.

You can't control when they summon you in Norway but if you're in Barcelona, they're not supposed to be able to get to you. You're not meant to be subject to their whims in Barcelona.

You want to go home. You want to go home with Mapi and Ingrid and curl up in your bed with Toast and not move for a week.

His casual hand on your shoulder grows heavy in an instant, nails digging in to your skin through your shirt and you have to keep the smile on your face to keep up appearances for the cameras you know are on you.

His lips graze your ear as he whispers to you," If you ever blindside me like this again then I promise you won't like what happens next."

"Sorry, Father," You say back.

"You better be. I didn't like sitting up there with potential business partners to see my own daughter down there like a football hooligan."

"Sorry."

"I'm better than that and I raised you to be better than that too."

You resist the urge to tell him that he didn't raise you at all.

Your wrist twinges, the phantom injury flaring up like it always did when you're nervous.

You throat bobs, already closing up as you fight back tears.

"I'm sorry."

"Apologies mean nothing." His voice is harsh in your ear and you find a point ahead of you to stare at so you don't cry.

If there's something that he hates more than apologies, it's tears so you stubbornly don't let even one fall.

"Who's this, y/n?" Ingrid asks, clearing her throat and you flick your eyes to her.

"My-"

Your father says his name, sticking his hand out and he's back to playing the role of proud father. "And you are?"

"Ingrid Engen. I play with y/n on the Norwegian team too."

"Ah! Yes. I think she's mentioned you before!" He's lying.

He didn't even know you played on the national team.

"And I'm Mapi. She lives with me and Ingrid."

"I can't thank you enough," Your father says," She can be quite a handful sometimes." He laughs but no one laughs with him.

"I think she's delightful," Ingrid says," Very helpful. Very studious. She's the best in her class."

The smile on his face is real now, like it always is when he hears about your academics.

He started in real estate and then moved to investing in technology and pharmaceuticals. He and your mother are scarily intelligent and it might be the only thing they passed onto you.

"We expect nothing less of her," He says," I'm sure everyone at the party will be glad to hear it."

Your breath stutters in your chest. "The party?"

"Yes! The party! I must have forgotten to tell you! We're having a little get together with a few potential business partners. We'll have to get you a dress."

"I don't need to go."

"Don't be silly!" His hand tightens on your shoulder and you know that this isn't a discussion. "There's some people I should introduce you too."

Your head drops again, the fight leaving your body.

"Do you want us to go?" Ingrid asks, ever polite though you feel like without her and Mapi there you won't survive. "So you two can have dinner?"

Your father is laughing again, finally releasing you and you take several quick steps to duck behind Mapi.

"I've got a flight to catch. Meetings to get to. Far more important things."

He can't see you anymore, not with your head bowed and pressed against Mapi's back and you finally let the tears fall.

Ingrid watches your father leave, down the tunnel and escorted to the player's exit by the staff that seem to be falling over themselves to make him happy.

"Y/n," She says, coaxing you out from your hiding spot," Oh, sweetheart...Are you okay?"

You look at her, bottom lip trembling as the tears run down your cheeks.

"Ingrid," You say, sounding small and wounded like an animal," I want to go home."

Ingrid nods as Mapi tucks you under her arm.

"Let's go home."

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 20 days ago

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🎉 Thank You for 10k+ Followers!! 🎉

A big thank you goes out to @cozymochi for this beautiful celebratory commissioned artwork for this major milestone ✨ It really captures the scope of all the content that had been put out in the last 4+ years—both in terms of official Twst materials and on this blog! I think it’s very fitting that we hit this milestone in the month of Halloween too (I just held off on posting this til the month after); it’s Twst’s biggest holiday of the year, so it’s twice the cause for celebration!!

A lot has happened over the course of my time in this fandom. I’ve written many things of course, but I’ve also had many other exciting opportunities! I’ve been interviewed for a paper, met many cool people from all over the world, attended Twst meetups + events, collaborated with other talented creators, received kind gifts, contributed to various fandom projects, and finished telling the origins of my Twst OC. This blog has been with me through a lot of major changes and difficult hurdles in my life too—it’s really been an anchor for me, a comforting and safe space for me to be creative or analytical whenever I want to be.

When I first started this blog as a very casual hobby in summer of 2020, I never even considered that it would balloon to this extent. It still doesn’t feel totally real to me 😭 I don’t usually fixate on numbers (they make me anxious), but looking back on it, 10k is a LOT, and 4 years is a long time. To put that in perspective, if we were in Twisted Wonderland for 4 years then all of the students we’ve come to know and love would have graduated by now. That’s crazy to me. We’ve come so far as a group.

I feel that a large part of fandom is the community that comes with it. I would have found it so challenging to stick with Twst had I not had so many great people keeping me engaged with it. I’d now like to take a moment to thank those folks. Keeping in line with the idea of “4 years”, think of these as little messages scrawled in a yearbook. I also have a blog event planned to celebrate! More on that later.

Please note that I’ve used pseudonyms for most of the following people, as I’d like to respect their privacy (I’m very private myself) + not all of them are comfortable with being explicitly named or tagged to a large crowd. You’ll know who you are if you see yourself on here.

Without further ado:

MSS — Thank you for being the first Twst space I felt truly a part of. It’s still the place I consider my fandom “home” beyond this blog.

April — Thank you for making MSS as a place for us to share! We’re tsunderes in solidarity.

Drinking Knight — The banners wouldn’t exist without your help. Thanks for getting the ball rolling on those; I’d like to think that I’m a little more confident in designing new ones myself now, but you were the start of it all. Your endless enthusiasm for the most insane otome boys, drinks, and bullying (positive) others is truly an inspiration.

Q. Opinionated — Can’t count the number of times you ran tech support for me 💀 Thanks so much for being patient and willing to laugh at a stupid situation. I WILL grip you (escape is not an option) 🤲

Dad with his Printer — Why are you so cheeky My unofficial proofreader and fact checker. Still treasure the teeny J word and coffin magnets you sent, and, even more valuable than those, the bad dad jokes/puns advice and wisdom you give. Wishing you luck on your art adventure.

A. Cider — An unexpected friend I met very late into the fandom and happened to run into irl by total coincidence. Funny how life works. Your shitposts are great, and I appreciate having a like-minded person to talk with about the J words and story critiques. I’d also like to thank you for the many little doodles you’ve made; I know you’re very busy and have a wife to tend to at home but I appreciate that you still make time for friends.

Hana — Extroverted pink-haired magical girl representation. Your bubbly love for Disney, Diasomnia, singing, and (yes) angst lights up the entire room. Maybe you’re not too confident with yourself are right now, but I know you’ll find your way.

Swan — For being quick on the uptake and giving me the heads up about various things! We may not talk much one-on-one, but I’m thinking of you and enjoy seeing you pitch into the conversation. You’re still banned for L*ona posting though/j

Ly — My secret French twin/j Thanks for being my cultural + equine advisor and a voice of (salty) reason. Never shut up about your hyperfixations! You’re a real one.

Oys — Enabler + encourager of my Yan!Sil delusions. Sorry for making your blood pressure spike every time we talk about our food takes. But hey, at least we get a good laugh out of it :))

Mac and Bean — For being my inspirations. Bean, you have such atmospheric writing. I hope my writing style can be just as magical as yours. Mac, it was your blog that first got me into starting my own Twst writing. You never stop being so, so funny also I blame you 120% for the L*ona rot.

Peaches and Cream — To my local Twst friends, thanks for keeping me company even through the hard times. Peaches, happy to be your local Twst dealer anytime. Cream, thanks for hooking me up with new books.

Salt and Flora — I don’t know where you vanished to, but the sea brought you back to me on its tides. I’m so happy we could meet again. Salt, you’re so talented at crochet and design work; get your coin 😂 Flora, you’re the sweetest person ever. Literally cottagecore personified, even in your art.

Piano — We don’t always see eye to eye, but thank you for being my serial debater and showing me new perspectives. Your open-minded theories and analyses are such fun. And, of course, it’s always hilarious to think about how we accidentally (?) swapped oshis 🤡 You’re a star.

The Anklebiter — For having the most unhinged jokes and ideas. Seriously, THE most unhinged. I never do any of the crazy things you suggest but I’m always really entertained from just hearing them.

Te, Mi, and Ro — Thanks for organizing local events and giving me an excuse to touch grass. It’s a lot of hard work and you guys manage to pull it off every time! Mi, I was flattered to have you reach out to me to help a little with the Tweel cupsleeve event. Happy to help anytime! Te, I remember you were cosplaying as Kalim when we first met and I kept thinking about how perfectly suited you are for the role. You were very friendly and made such an effort to include everyone in the event even when I was Idia-ing in the corner. To this day, you continue to spontaneously introduce me to new people 😂 Thanks for getting me put of my comfort zone. Ro, I didn’t think we’d meet again like this. Small world! You’re learning and improving the big events. Here’s hoping to many more!

Vic — For being Ace Trappola when very few others would. It’s refreshing to have someone tell it like it is. I wish I could be as bold and as honest as you are sometimes. You have such a big heart when it comes to the characters you love; it makes me want to adore them like you do too 🫶

Kana — For being so sweet and patient. You helped me through so many rough patches and have also contributed a lot to the look of the blog. It’s so fun gushing with you about magical girls and pretty boys, sharing our favorite shows and movies… I feel as though I’ve made a lifelong friend.

Zari — Thank you for charms and art book, big fan of your stuff 😭 So honored to have worked with you on projects too. I hope to see a lot more of your Yuu and other OCs around, I love following them ^^

Lala — You understand, encourage, and validate my weird tastes in fictional men 💕 Really admire your sense of fashion and stylish nails too. Whenever I have my shrimp apron on, I think of you.

Arisu — No longer in the Twst fandom but integral in the earliest days. Wherever you are now, I wish you nothing but happiness.

P-san — You’re a lifesaver!! Thank you so much for helping me find cute little outfits and accessories for my plushies… They are forever grateful to be properly clothed.

V, Fa, Fe, Ray, Rea, Sonny, Glimmer Group, and Incognito Crew — Thanks for being so supportive of my hyperfixation on Disney villain anime boys, even if you guys have NO clue what I’m rambling about half of the time. To V specifically 🫵 I am NOT a cat boy kisser

Mango — I didn’t know I wanted you in my life until you showed up uninvited one day and chewed your way into my heart.

Azul Ashengrotto — For being the character that first convinced me into giving this game a shot. The Little Mermaid was something I always held so dear to me, so it almost seems like destiny that you’d be the one to drag me down into Twst. You’ll always hold a special place in my heart for that, even if my feelings have changed since then.

Rook Hunt — For being there when I needed to laugh a little. It’s scary to glance over my shoulder sometimes, but you make it easier to smile as I look back.

Rollo Flamme — For letting me know that having negative feelings is normal and human, even if we don’t always cope with them in the healthiest of ways. Let’s reflect and be better together!

Leona Kingscholar — For showing me that change and personal growth is, in fact, possible. Th-This doesn’t mean I like you or anything though, so get off your high horse—

Jade Leech — For taking my hand and guiding me back on the path when I got lost in the dark. Whatever crimes you may commit in your free time, I forgive you/j

Miss Raven Crowley — The little black bird who could, the blog muse. I made you on a whim and look at where you are now… You went from a background character to the main character of your own story. So proud of you, my child 😭

Asset compilers, fan artists, fanfic writers, fan translators, cosplayers, merch makers, editors, plushie pic takers, video essayists, theorizers, etc. — You’re all so important to keeping the fandom alive, especially during periods of official content drought. It wouldn’t be feasible for me to list out all of the content creators I enjoy (chjsbsksks and it honestly might be awkward since I haven’t directly interacted with most of them), but I hope that this message still reaches you and finds you well. Keep doing your thing; I love seeing the work you put out ^^

Anyone and everyone that I’ve ever commissioned and/or received fan works from — I appreciate that you took time and energy out of your day to create something for me. There’s so much talent in the Twst fandom and I’m honored that you would dedicate some of that to a silly little birb.

You, the Readers — For supporting this blog and and what I do here! You’re an important part of my journey too.

Thank you!! Here’s to a future unknown and a page unwritten.

- The Writing Raven

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #milestone #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #Raven Crowley #not my work #Leona Kingscholar #Jade Leech #commissioned art #Azul Ashengrotto #Rook Hunt

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sugurufic · 9 months ago

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Nanami-Sensei (Nanami X F!Reader)

Summary: Your husband isn't that much of a grump, it seems. Especially when it comes to his favourite people; you and your "children".

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: reader is very motherly and is mentioned to be sunshine-y, other than that it's just fluff

masterlist

“Nanamin!” Yuji’s voice rang out in the empty classroom, bringing a smile to your face. Your husband let out an exhausted sigh, but the little smile on his face told you otherwise. Yuji was Haibara with pink hair, his sunny personality almost contagious. You figured your husband has a type of people he lets close - and it's most definitely the sunshine people, like yourself.

“What is it, Itadori-kun?” Kento asks in his deadpan.

“I saw these in the market and thought you might like them!” the pink haired boy said, holding up a small paper bag. “I bought some for you too, Nanami-san,”

“Thank you, Yuji,” You say, scooting over on the bench. “Why don’t you sit with us for a while?”

The boy’s eyes sparkle with delight as he accepts your offer, sitting beside you with his hands on the desk. Nanami’s brow is relaxed, and you know he enjoys spending time with Yuji as much as you do. “Nanami-san, won’t you open this?”

The bag smelled amazing, and the little box had some of your favourite doughnuts. You gave one to your husband, one to Yuji and took one for yourself. “How did you know I liked them?” you ask, a bright smile on your face.

Yuji swallows his bite quickly, then says, “Nanamin mentioned it yesterday when we were taking a break after exorcising a curse. We stopped by this shop to get doughnuts,” Yuji says, making Nanami look down quickly.

“Well, why don’t you come home with us?” You offer. “I’ll make us some spicy ramen. Then we can have the rest of the doughnuts for dessert.”

“We can pick some mochi up on our way home too,” Nanami says.

Yuji’s eyes sparkle, he is so full of life - your heart cries out for him - why did fate choose him to be Sukuna’s vessel? Why couldn’t he have been a normal child? You decide not to dwell on these questions, putting your best smile instead, hugging the young boy from his shoulders. He couldn’t yet spend time with his friends, and you wanted to keep his cheerful self for as long as he can. “Don’t think about it too much, Yuji.” You said. “We can watch a movie together.”

“Human Earthworm 4?” He says in a soft voice.

“Itadori-kun, it’s time for you to watch something else,” Nanami sighs.

“We can pick the movie later,” you intervene. “What do you say, Yuji? It will be a nice break for you to leave Jujutsu Tech for a bit,”

“Gojo-Sensei -” Yuji starts.

“He won’t say anything,” You assure him.

“Okay, Nanami-san!” He says, the bright smile returning to his face. “I’ll go see Gojo-Sensei once, then we can go!”

Yuji runs at an alarming speed, leaving you with a chuckle. “Isn’t he a lovely child?” you murmur to your husband.

“Indeed,” He says with a sigh, caressing your hand with his thumb. “He might be your son with how much energy and joy he has,”

“Well, he wouldn’t be just my son then.” You say with a coy smile. “And I think, that you might just have a type of favourite people,”

“People who are similar to you, my love,” He agrees. “But you will always be my favourite of them all.”

“I better be,” you giggle. “I am your wife, after all.”

It is adorable the way your husband has taken the child under his wing, acting as his mentor and protector - it makes you wonder how he would be with your own kids, loving and protecting them from the world. It makes you long for a normal life, where you could raise your kids without the permanent threat over them. The world you belong to is too dangerous for children.

“Nanamin! Nanami-san!” Yuji’s cheerful voice is back again, saving you from the dark thoughts forming in your head. He has a bright smile on his face and a backpack with him, ready to leave. “I’m ready!”

“Let’s go then,” You get up from your place, and wrap one hand around your husband’s hand and the other one hold’s Yuji’s arm. “A warm dinner is waiting for us back home,”

Nanami settles, with a sigh as Yuji begins to play Human Earthworm 4 on the television, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed between the two of you. You cannot help but think of Yuji as your child, even though you are too young to be his parents. He’s wonderful company to have around - helping you lift up your spirits with his contagious laugh and in general helping you in the kitchen as your husband took the laundry. Yuji is so animated, excitedly filling you in with the previous parts of the movie, doughnut box on his lap.

Hidden from Yuji’s eyes, Nanami has a rare, charming smile on his face as he watches the two suns of his life get close to each other. How you tousle the boy’s pink hair as if he’s your younger self, indulging in his gossip about everyone from school, about how his Gojo-Sensei has been teaching him, about how he misses Megumi and Nobora and wishes he can talk to them again.

Your eyes meet his behind Yuji, and you share a smile, a smile reserved for you two only. Yuji stills for a bit as the movie progresses and you take that time to set up the guest room for him - comforters, pillows, and toiletries. You know that inviting Sukuna’s vessel over to your home is dangerous, and you wonder why the King of Curses had to pick this sunshine in human-form of a child as his vessel.

“Nanami-san,” Yuji whispers, tiptoeing into the guest room. “Nanamin has fallen asleep,”

“Oh?” You say with a grin. “I told him he should take a nap, but my husband just never listens. Come on, let’s get him a blanket.”

“Don’t you want to wake him up?” Yuji asks, confused. Wouldn’t it be better if he got into bed to sleep?

“He didn’t sleep last night,” You admit, fetching an extra blanket from the guest room’s closet. “He got up early to see you,”

Yuji’s face turns as pink as his hair, beginning to apologise, but you stop him. “My husband cares deeply for you, Yuji. Even though he doesn’t show it.” You say. “And I absolutely stand with him on the matter.”

“Nanami-san,” Yuji bows deeply in front of you, muttering words of gratitude and thanks and apologies for being a bother.

“Yuji, you’re just a child,” You say. “Don’t bother yourself with these worries. Now, let’s get a blanket for your Nanamin before he wakes up from the chill.”

You tuck your husband in on the sofa for the night, kissing his forehead before getting ready for bed. You’re in the kitchen getting some water when Yuji follows you too, sitting on the counter.

“Nanami-san, how did you and Nanamin meet?” He quietly asks, a rare moment of stillness from him.

“Oh, we met at Jujutsu Tech,” you say. “I made friends with Kento’s friend, and then we hung out together…” You are lost in thought of your youth, with Yu, Kento and your senpais. Suddenly, it’s Haibara Yu in front of you, telling you how he loves to eat, and would love a woman who loves to eat. You’re with Kento, comforting him after Haibara’s death, hugging him close as he cries on your shoulder. You’re with Shoko as she is told of Geto’s defection, and how he killed 112 villagers, including his parents. You’re the one Gojo reaches out to when Tsumiki gets her first period, panicking because he doesn’t know what to do as Megumi freaks out.

Then you’re back with Kento, as he tells you he is leaving the Jujutsu sorcery, because he cannot take it anymore. You’re right there with him, applying for a job in the corporate world because you fear if you stay a sorcerer too long, you might join Geto. No wonder they couldn’t catch him for years - you had helped him hide. No matter how much Kento believed in protecting the youth, protecting the defenceless, he couldn’t hate Geto, because he understood.

You are brought back to the present, at the sound of Yuji calling your name, and smile at him. “I was new there, and Haibara made friends with me,” You continue. “He wasn’t too different from you, so full of life. He was friends with Kento, and I started being friends with him too. Gojo would always pick on him for being an introvert, and I'd always tease him too. Then we joined corporate, and got even closer… and well, here we are.”

“Did Nanamin ask you out?” He asks, excitement returning to his eyes again.

“He did,” you say, recalling the big bouquet you had at your desk on a random Tuesday morning, signed by Kento. “He had to be thrown a lot of signs before he realised that I like him too.”

“He seems so closed off,” Yuji notes.

“He takes time to understand,” you admit. “All that toughness but he is a softie,” getting too lost in your thoughts, you decide it’s time to make some calming tea. You set the water to boil while Yuji brings out two cups while you mix up your tea and some herbs with a sugar cube.

“What do you love the most about him, Nanami-san?” Yuji asks.

You pour out the tea into the cups, taking a long sip before answering, “His heart,” you cannot help but smile at the thought of your husband. “He’s so kind, so patient. He’s just so… I love him,” you say with a delighted sigh. “He’s perfect,”

“I wish I can be like Nanamin,” Yuji says.

“You already are a great young man,” You are quick to reassure him. “Don’t change too much, Yuji.”

There’s a quiet knock on the door, and you quickly shift into high alert mode. Being a Jujutsu sorcerer came with his problems - namely enemies showing up unannounced. You reach for your cursed tool as you get to the door, looking at the door camera, relaxing and then panicking on seeing Ino Takuma. You quickly open the door with minimal noise and signal your finger to your mouth.

You give him a once over to see if he is injured, worry laced over your face. Once sure that he seems okay, you escort him back into the kitchen, locking the door after him. Ino smiles seeing a sleeping Nanami, his grin only widening on seeing Yuji. “Itadori,” he greets in a whisper.

“Yo! Ino-senpai,” Yuji 's eyes widened, his boy-ish face making your heart ache with love for him. He’s just a boy, thrust into the middle of everything.

You set the kettle to the stove again, as Ino helps himself to some cookies from the shelf. Now with a hot cup of tea in each pair of hands, you tiptoe to the guest room, careful to not disturb your husband’s slumber. Heavens know that he deserves it.

“Takuma-chan, what brings you here tonight?” You ask, sitting on the only chair in the room while Ino and Yuji sit on the bed.

“I was fighting a curse, it seemed a bit stronger than grade 2.” He says. “It was close by. I didn’t have the strength to return home and stopped by.”

Yuji’s curious eyes fly between the two of you, wondering if he will ever feel free enough to show up uninvited. “Takuma was Kento’s first student,” you tell a confused Yuji. “He was there when my boyfriend turned to my fiancé.”

Your mind flies back to a happier time, about three years ago when Kento and you had planned a date to a fancy place but you two dragged Ino with you, he’d just successfully completed his solo first mission and you wanted to celebrate. But the restaurant didn’t know that - and hence you got a surprise pastry with a ring box on it, with your first ever child witnessing your pure joy.

“Nanami was not very delighted by me being there,” Ino notes.

“Tch, Takuma-chan I thought you knew him better,” You pout.

“He always acts like a grump,” Ino says, making you and Yuji chuckle.

Your first child with your latest, you think, smiling at the two of them. Your husband does have a specific type for people who he lets get close to him - people like you - who are insufferable sunshine, pushing into his grumpy space with your bright smiles and twinkling eyes that he can't help but want to protect.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #nanami fluff

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beedok · 1 month ago

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Please Help A Family

This isn't something I've done before, so I may not be the best at it, but I want to help raise awareness for a family who's efforts to get by I have followed for some months here.

Mohammed Alanqer is a tech worker from Gaza who has been doing his best to gather funds for his family so that they can get by with the ever rising price of goods and the hope to eventually get to safety. His gofundme has been thoroughly vetted by multiple sources.

During the last year of fear and bombardment his wife and three children were joined by baby Amir. Four growing children who need nutrition that is increasingly difficult to find in Gaza.

He and his wife Enas Majed have done their best to protect their children, but disease has become all but impossible to avoid. The children have suffered through measles and Adam is in need of medical care for viral hepatitis.

Another truly admirable thing about Mohammed is that, despite the dangers that come with finding internet access and electricity in Gaza and the exhaustion that he must feel living under such stress, and despite tumblr's repeatedly closing his accounts, again and again he has used his platform to help uplift voices of others in Gaza as well.

So, please, follow one of his blogs on tumblr, @nourasbasha or @famousturtlebanana , to help spread his voice.

And, if you can, please donate to his gofundme:

If you do donate, and send me proof, I'll draw you a free sketch.

#palestine #fundraiser #gaza #war on gaza #artists for palestine

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zweetpea · 4 months ago

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so please imagine if you will…

CW: Babies

Imagine You and Gojo as teens. Him being a total player and you being his “innocent” chaotic junior by a year.

Imagine you’ve got a bit of a rivalry going on. Him with all his... stuff... and you with... let's say with a Nullifying cursed Technique.

Imagine you guys grew up together. You always had an edge on him in a fight up until he unlocked his reversed curse technique during his second year at Jujustu Tech.

Imagine that somewhere in your studies you and Gojo had a heart to heart about your futures. It's late... maybe you guys are pulling an all-nighter. He reveals in a moment of what he perceived as weakness his insecurities being the next head of the Gojo clan brought him. How he didn't feel like he'd ever fall in love. How he knew felt like the higher ups would push an arranged marriage onto him. How he was scared that he wouldn't be a good husband or father. And his biggest fear that any child he did bring into this world would have to face the same hardships he did only without the six eyes to back it up. How he felt guilty for taking that opportunity away from them.

Imagine shifting his head onto your lap in that moment and proposing a deal to him. If you both were single by the time you hit 25 you'd marry each other. That way he wouldn't have to worry about whether or not he'd be a good partner. Or how strong his kids could be. Or what kind of woman the higher ups would try to force him to be with.

Imagine after that day he never went on another date for a decade. waiting for the day you'd get married and he could finally have babies with you to keep the Gojo legacy alive.

Imagine him sabotaging any dates you get over the next decade. Being jealous and possessive of you in front of any guys who might find you attractive. (In his mind it's all of them)

Imagine him never telling you any of this You probably already know

Imagine after a while you move away to pursue a career somewhere else because of how clingy and obsessive Gojo has gotten. Completely forgetting about the promise you made and coincidentally not being able to pursue a real relationship because of being a sorcerer.

Imagine on your 25th birthday you get a text from a random number asking you a bunch of strange questions. "Red velvet's still your favorite cake flavor right?" "Is royal blue and rose gold tacky?" "Is rose gold still your favorite color?" "Out of these options which dress is your favorite?" They're all very short cocktail wedding dressed.

Imagine obviously ignoring this stalker. Going about your day. Maybe getting a few drinks with some friends after their work days were over. And when you uber home a bit tipsy you find someone waiting for you in your living room.

"Sweetheart! You're home! And you're wasted!" Gojo held you and kissed your temple. "Come on let's get you cleaned up and get you to bed."

"Gojo? I'm not drunk I'm just a bit buzzed. How and why are you here?"

"Come on, babe. Call me Satoru! I'm here to celebrate your birthday and our engagement!"

"Huh?"

Imagine how sweet he could be as he picks you up in a princess carry and takes you to the bathroom. Carefully getting you cleaned up and reminding you about your deal, and of course asking if you got his texts. You merely laugh and kiss his cheek.

Imagine how the next morning you wake up and roll over in bed only to come face to chest with him.

"How'd you get in my bed?" You'd smile at him.

"I carried my lovely wife here last night, after she got drunk off her ass."

"I thought I told you to sleep on the couch."

"I was lonely." He'd whine and press his cheek against the top of your head.

Imagine how he'd take care of most of the wedding preparations. (except the dress cause ain't no way you bout to look like some hooker barbie on your big day) And him giving you his mother's wedding ring. Just the two of you and a few close friends having a small, intimate ceremony.

Imagine "Forgetting" to tell the higher ups about the union so they call him in to have a meeting with him telling him that they've selected a woman to be his wife. He laughs in their faces as he pulls out his phone and pulls up a photo of you pregnant with his baby.

Imagine his smirk when they all start to freak out and protest. And oh boy...

Imagine how that smirk falls when one of them suggests that the baby isn't his...

Imagine him coming home all bloody. His smile as wide as ever as he informs you that "It's not mine" or his rather. And how you just hand him some new clothes and push him towards the shower.

Imagine how thrilled he is when he finally gets to hold his baby in his arms. The silent vindication he feels seeing as the baby looks exactly like him.

"I spend 12 hours squeezing you out of my body and you have the audacity to look like your father. You really are a Gojo."

Just please Imagine it all for me if you will

704 notes · View notes

evansbby · 2 years ago

Text

⭒✮▹𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: older husband!Ari Levinson x naive wife!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: daddy!kink, smutt, dd/lg vibes, pregnancy!kink, breeding!kink, housewife!kink, lactation!kink, size difference, age gap, innocence!kink, naive reader, 18+ only, minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Ari finally comes home to his very pregnant wife.

𝐀/𝐍: I’m just surprised I didn’t write this sooner tbh. Enjoy!

“Honey, I’m home!”

Your husband’s booming voice echoes around the house, sending thrills up and down your spine. You feel a huge smile plaster itself on your face – despite the fact that you’ve been married to him for almost a year now, you still feel giddy like a little girl every time you hear him come home. You carefully set down the casserole that has just finished cooking, impatiently shaking your oven mitts off before making a beeline to the front door and launching yourself at your big, beefy husband.

“Ari!” You hug him hard, pressing your nose into his hard chest that smells so deliciously like him. Like fresh soap and his manly musk with a hint of salty seawater. Just him. And you can’t help but breath him in, trying your best to climb up his body and wrap your legs around his waist, which is obviously a hard task considering how big your belly has gotten. “Missed you so much,” you mumble against his solid body, loving the feel of his warm arms enveloping you into his embrace. You wish he’d hug you harder, completely crush your body against his like how he used to. Till you can’t breathe but in the best possible way.

But of course, he’s ten times more mindful of you now. Pregnancy and all.

“Baby,” Ari breathes, burying his nose in your hair and nuzzling the top of your head. He presses a bunch of kisses against your hairline, one hand already on your belly (its favourite place to be, as of late), stroking it softly while his other hand meanders down to your ass (his other favourite part of your body). “Mm, I missed you too, sweet girl. Missed your little body against me like this.”

He cups your face, tipping it upwards and lifting you slightly so he can plant a kiss to your lips. He was just so damn tall and big – kissing was a bit of a problem unless he bent down or picked you up. You didn’t mind, though. You loved how much bigger he was than you, how strong and beefy and muscular he looked.

And Ari’s genes were strong enough that he’d passed them down to his unborn children too. You were about eight months along with Ari’s twins in your belly. Both boys. Both bigger than average according to your last scan. And both extremely active and strong just like their daddy – you knew because of all the somersaults and kicks they were subjecting you to day after day. But it was worth it. Ari said that you were the always the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on, but pregnancy just made you glow differently. And he’d get that fire in his eyes every time he looked at your belly growing his babies, and it made you feel so powerful, so sexy, so wonderful.

You’d only been married to Ari for a month before you’d found out you were pregnant. You’d met him less than a year ago, this business tycoon who’d swept you off your innocent feet. He was handsome, charming and respectful, and he’d proposed to you after only a few weeks. You’d said yes, of course. And he’d made it clear that he wanted a big family, a cute little housewife (you) who took care of him and his children. You were all too happy to oblige, because you wanted all those things too.

“How are my boys?” Ari whispers, cupping your belly with his huge palm. God, he was just so big – built strong like a wrestler yet also lithe and athletic. Not to mention so goddamned handsome! You couldn’t believe your luck. Some of your friends had told you that you were too young for a man like Ari. You were only fresh out of college and he was almost double your age and the CEO of one of the biggest tech companies in the country. That didn’t matter to you, though. You liked being his little baby, having him dote over you and spoil you (which he had done since the day he met you, and continued to do till this day).

And so what if he babied you all the time and made all your decisions for you? You liked giving up the control, and Ari was just so smart and level-headed, it just made sense to allow him to take over every aspect of your life.

“Your boys have been extra rowdy today.” You giggle as your husband continues to press kisses all over your face and neck, his long hair tickling you as he does so. “They keep kicking me like they want to come out already. How am I supposed to tell them they’re not due for another month?”

Ari smirks, easily picking you up with one arm like you’re a little baby yourself. His other hand is still splayed over your swollen stomach. He’d grown addicted to cupping your belly ever since the day you told him you were pregnant. It was a problem in the early days, when none of your friends and family knew yet your husband kept stroking your belly in front of them, a cocky look on his handsome face that all but gave everything away.

“I can’t wait till they come, but I also want to keep you pregnant just a little bit longer.” Ari murmurs, carrying you into the living room. He gives your ass a loud slap, the action making you yelp and clutch his muscular bicep as he grins. “You’re so sexy like this, baby. Have I ever told you that?”

“Only about a gazillion times,” you roll your eyes, but this earns you another hard slap on the ass and a warning look from your husband. You squeal, “Ari! That hurt!”

“You know not to roll your eyes at me, honey. I may have married you and knocked you up but you’re still my little baby.” Ari pats your bum and gives it a soft squeeze before kissing your cheek to make you smile. “And I’ve told you to call me daddy, princess.”

“Oh yeah, sorry daddy!”

“That’s okay, baby.”

You’d called Ari “daddy” during sex ever since he took your virginity on your first date almost a year ago. It just fit him; he took care of you so good and he was just so big and strong and dominant. Ari was really into it, always coaxing you to call him daddy – even outside the bedroom. And he’d always look so extremely smug when you’d inevitably slip and accidentally call him daddy in front of your friends and family.

But especially now that the two of you were married and lived in Ari’s big suburban mansion, he just went crazy every time he’d come home to you in your checkered apron, pregnant with his babies and calling him daddy. He’d told you once that it was his idea of heaven on Earth, and you were the one who’d given it to him.

“You have no idea how hot you look right now, baby.” Ari tells you as he takes a seat on his armchair and sets you on his lap. You’re still dwarfed by his huge size even when he’s sitting down with you on top of him, holding you securely on his knee like you’re his little baby. His gaze grows dark as he watches your breasts bounce slightly as he sits down, pink tongue peeking out to lick his lips hungrily. “I couldn’t concentrate at work, all I could think about was my baby wife, round with my children and taking care of my house in your cute little dress.”

You glance down at your dress, it’s one of many that Ari had bought for you. He had said that baby wives only ever wore dresses around the house so it was easier for their daddies to fuck them. You had absolutely no problem with that, seeing as you loved wearing the cute dresses he bought for you, and you also loved it whenever he’d slip his hand up the cotton material, or bent you over a random piece of furniture around the house and fucked the living daylights out of you.

Ari was a loving and doting husband, but sometimes he would get extremely rugged and rough with you. He’d tell you that you were his wife and it was your duty to bend over for him whenever he pleased. Sometimes, he’d watch you with lust-filled eyes while you did the housework around the house. And all he had to do was snap his fingers and you’d come running over to him.

He’d either push you down to your knees and make you suck him off till he was satisfied, or he’d bend you over the arm of the couch and fuck you fast and hard, calling you his cute little baby housewife, telling you how all your holes belonged to him only, because he was your husband and he owned you. And you’d whimper and mewl and wail and cry while he had his way with you, till he’d fill you up with his cum and then pull you upright, straighten your dress, slap your ass and send you back to your housework.

No wonder he knocked you up so quickly.

“Honey? You still here?” Ari bounces you on his lap and you blink before smiling up at him.

“Oh. Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Why would you need to think, baby? Daddy does all the thinking, remember? You just look pretty.” Ari bounces you on his lap again, making you giggle while his eyes once more zero in on your breasts. They’re so much bigger now that you’re pregnant, and Ari has been paying more attention to them than usual. In fact, your pregnant body in general has him incensed and feral. He’s always grabbing at you and pawing at you, squeezing and groping and stroking your every curve like he can’t get enough.

He reaches past you to grab the cold bottle of beer which you’d already set out for him on the coffee table. You watch him as he takes a deep swig, admiring how handsome he is. He’s got a defined jawline covered with his thick beard that makes him look more manly and virile than ever. A gorgeous sloped nose with a cute bump on it that you love to kiss, and high cheekbones smattered with freckles. He sports a golden tan almost all year round, as well as a wonderfully beefy, sun-kissed body that you can’t get enough of.

Even now, you slip your hand up and down his hard stomach, feeling his hairy, toned abs through his cotton shirt that’s stretched taught over them. God, he really was the hottest man alive. All the women that worked for him were crazy about him, including his secretary. But Ari had told you not to worry, that you were the love of his life and he’d waited forty years to find you, and he’d wait forty more to find you again.

“Dinner’s all ready for you.” You say, pressing a kiss to his cheek because he looks so deliciously handsome and you can’t help it. “I made all your favourites, daddy. I think I’m getting better at cooking now.”

You’d struggled with cooking at the beginning of your marriage. You knew Ari expected you to be a good little housewife, but cooking was never your strongest suit. Ari hadn’t minded though, always finding it adorable when you’d sheepishly serve him burnt food that was borderline inedible. And then he’d order a takeaway and you’d both eat in front of the TV, and he’d lick the pizza sauce off the corner of your mouth before pulling you into his lap to make out.

But you’d wanted to be a good housewife for him, after all, Ari worked so hard to provide for you and he bought you whatever you wanted. He didn’t expect you to slave away in the kitchen, of course, but you figured he deserved a good homecooked meal once in a while. And so, you sifted through various cookbooks and online recipes and YouTube videos until you’d finally been able to cook something half decent. And Ari had been so proud of you when you’d served him a roasted chicken and mashed potatoes, and making you husband proud was all you really wanted to do.

Back in the present, Ari playfully chucks you under your chin, “You’re an amazing cook, sweetheart. I can’t wait to eat dinner. But I won’t lie, baby, right now I’m hungry for something else.”

His eyes go down to your chest again, and you smile demurely as thrills shoot down to your core. Ari’s big hands cup your breasts, squeezing them lewdly before tweaking your hard nipples through the thin material of your dress. You never really wore bras inside the house, and Ari was not one to complain about that. He grins wickedly when two wet spots appear on the fabric covering your nipples.

You’d started lactating recently, and Ari had been nothing short of thrilled about that. “Baby wives feed their daddies their mommy milk,” he’d told you, and of course, he was always right. You were scared at first, having him drink from you. But he’d been so ravenous, so hungry for your milk and the intimacy that came with doing something like that. How could you possibly say no?

Now, Ari fed from you all the time. It was almost a daily occurrence which almost always ended in mind-blowing sex.

Ari holds you close to him as he kisses down your neck, his hands slipping up your arms to push the straps of your dress down. Your breasts are painful and heavy as he frees them from the dress, your nipples already hard as glass but you still hiss as the cool air hits them, making them even more erect, if that was possible.

“Poor baby,” Ari coos, tweaking your nipple casually while you squirm in his arms, whimpering like a baby who needs to be tended to. That only incenses Ari more, and he gives your erect nipple a couple of flicks, making you gasp as he laughs wickedly. “Look at your sexy tits, all sore and heavy. They must really hurt, huh baby?”

You pout and nod, grabbing his forearm desperately, “Y-Yeah, they do. Daddy, plea–”

“My poor baby,” Ari continues, squeezing and groping to his heart’s content as droplets of your milk begin to leak. Your husband licks his lips, spreading the liquid all over your sore breasts, making you hornier than ever but he only smirks. “Bet you’ve been waiting all day for daddy to come home and breastfeed from you, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, please!” You whimper, jutting your chest out till your heavy breasts are almost smothering his face. And all he does is laugh, giving your nipple another hard pinch while you feel the tears of frustration well in your eyes. He reduced you to tears so easily, but it was only because you craved him so badly and didn’t like it when things didn’t go your way. He often teased you about this, calling you a needy, spoiled baby who lacked any type of patience.

Ari gives your nipple a light flick with is tongue, his blue eyes shining wickedly as your breath hitches. But then he lets out a feral growl, completely enveloping your nipple between his lips and sucking down hard. You whimper again, grabbing his hair and holding his head close to your breast as he begins to drink your milk, groaning, biting and licking at your nipple like a starved man.

“God, you have such sexy tits, baby.” He mumbles against your breasts, burying his face into them as he continues to suckle. He grabs your other tit and gives it a rough squeeze, kneading the soft flesh with his expert fingers. “And your mommy milk tastes so good.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy!” You manage to get out through all the different sensations you’re feeling. He’s still bouncing you up and down on his lap, his hard dick poking against your butt like a steel rod through his pants. Plus, his mouth working against your nipple is making you see stars, and you feel pleasure mixed with the relief from him draining the milk from your breast.

“Good girl with good manners,” Ari grunts approvingly, his voice slightly muffled as he lewdly takes your whole breast into his mouth (as much of it that fits) giving it a hearty suck while rocking you against him as he dry-humps his dick up into your clothed core. “Just like how daddy trained you to be. Fuck, baby. I bet none of my friends’ wives are as obedient and cute as you, huh?”

“N-No!” you agree with a yelp when he gives your ass a firm slap before grabbing a handful of your ass-cheek from under your dress and giving it a lewd jiggle. “D-Daddy, need you so bad!” You try to grab his hard dick out from the waistband of his pants but he easily slaps your hands away, making you pout and whine as he continues to suck your breasts.

“Let daddy have his meal first.” Ari scolds, slapping your butt again, harder this time, before focusing his attention to your other breast. He suckles you sweetly at first, before growing greedy once your milk starts flowing into his mouth. Incensed, he moans against your breast, grabbing your hips and repositioning you on top of him. He bounces you up and down straight on top of his crotch while he feeds from you, and you moan wantonly as your body begins to work itself up.

“B-But daddy, I waited all – ah! – I waited all day for you!” You pout, trying to grind down against your husband but he holds you in place, always wanting to control your pleasure and never letting you seek it out by yourself unless you had his permission.

Ari releases your nipple with a pop before grinning wolfishly down at you, a thoughtful look on his face as his hand splays itself on your belly once more. “Well, you were a good, patient baby today, weren’t you?”

“I was, I was!” He slips his hand down under your dress, quickly settling it between your legs while your breath hitches and eyes cloud over with lust and want. And all it takes is for his pointer finger to press down on your swollen, panty-covered clit and you’re cumming. You squeak and clutch on to his muscular forearms as you orgasm, your other hand going down to hold his hand in place between your legs as you hump and ride against it. Your panties are completely soaked through and your entire body is buzzing with sensitivity as you pant his name.

Ari looks extremely smug as he watches you orgasm in his lap, leaving a sizable pool of your wetness on his clothed leg. Casually, he tweaks your nipple, his blue eyes trained on your face as you gasp in response, your body twitching in his arms.

“You’re so sensitive now, baby. I bet I could make you cum without even touching you.” Ari says, looking proud and smug at the same time.

“S-Sorry,” you shoot him a sheepish look once you’ve come down from your high, “can’t help it sometimes, daddy. Specially since I can’t ever touch myself when you’re not here.”

That was one of Ari’s firm rules that you had to follow. At the beginning of your marriage, Ari made it clear that baby wives like you had to follow all the rules that your husband set. That included not speaking to other men without his permission, always doing what he said, always telling him where you were, and of course, never touching yourself without his permission – certainly never when you were alone in the house.

“Dumb babies like you don’t know how to touch yourself.” Ari answers, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he slips his hand out from between your legs, licking his fingers lewdly. “That’s why you need daddy to tend to you all the time. Now tell me, baby, how would you like to be fucked tonight?”

In next to no time at all, your big, beefy husband has you on all fours on your king-sized bed upstairs. A feral energy had overtaken him when you’d shyly voiced your desires to be fucked as hard as possible. Pregnancy made you so horny and feral for him, and in the early days he only ever allowed you on top, because he was so much bigger than you and so scared of hurting you. But soon, he’d learned to be rough in a way that had you both feeling satisfied without ever really causing you any harm.

And so, Ari had wasted no time in carrying you up the stairs, laying you down on the bed and slapping your ass as you scrambled to get on your hands and knees for him. And he’d slapped your ass once, twice, three times, and you knew he was mesmerised by how it jiggled.

“You’re so fucking hot like this, baby.” Ari murmurs, spanking you again like he can’t get enough. “Kept thinking of you like this while I was at work, bent over like a little whore in front of me.”

“Please put it in, Ari!”

“Patience, sweetheart.” He chuckles, running a hand up your spine and sending shivers all throughout your body. He presses his dick against your naked backside, and he feels so hot and pulsating. He’d torn your dress off the moment he’d entered the bedroom, and his own clothes had quickly followed suit. And now you were at the mercy of one big, horny, muscular, beefy man. A caveman, by the looks of how feral he was getting behind you. It’s like seeing your pregnant, naked body just flipped a switch in him, and his own patience was riding thin along with yours as he continues to rut against you.

With one quick thrust, Ari drives his huge dick inside you. You cry out in pain because he’s so big, and you’ll never get used to just how big he is. He’s more than twice the size of you and so incredibly well hung, and all you can do is brace yourself and take it, your whole body jerking forward from the force of his thrust. You’d have gone face first into the mattress had he not anticipated that and grabbed on to your hips tightly.

“Oh, fuck, baby, such a tight fucking hole you got. Daddy barely fits inside.” Ari’s fingers are clutching your hips so tightly, you know it’ll leave a bruise. And he’s rough from the get go, although you know he’s holding back because you’re pregnant. “God, fuck, sweetheart. You got such a good and tight fuckin’ snatch, so perfect for my dick, fuck!”

“H-Harder, daddy!” You cry, rutting back against him as your breasts bounce up and down from the sheer force of his thrusts. But your request earns you a swift smack to your bum.

“Take it how daddy gives it to you, baby.” Ari sneers, the alpha male inside of him taking complete control as his hips increase their pace. It feels like he’s ripping your insides with his hard dick but you feel so goddamn full and so good that you don’t even care, even as he continuously rains slap after slap down on your ass. “God, fuck, such a good little baby wife. Obedient as shit, aren’t you? Daddy’s little baby, gonna give me a bunch of babies, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yeah, gonna have your babies, daddy!” You agree, sounding delirious and very much like an airhead who’s only capable of repeating what her daddy is saying to her but he’s reduced you to this state through his sheer hard fucking and you don’t even care. You want it harder, want him slamming into you till you can’t catch your breath and you pass out. But you know he wouldn’t, you can tell by how he’s got one arm now wrapped protectively around your belly, as if he needs to keep it there to remind himself not to lose control like how he often does during sex.

You remember a couple of times when Ari had gone completely feral, fucking you like you were an animal. Relentless and unforgiving, leaving you with bruises and bumps as he’d had his way with you again and again. But the dark side of you had enjoyed being a cumdump for him, despite the fact that you’d cried from the pain and overwhelming pleasure. And Ari had taken you into his arms afterwards, telling you how sorry he was, how he’d be careful with you in the future, how he got too riled up and how he couldn’t help but take you roughly when he saw how sweet and innocent you looked. And then he’d always be so sweet with his aftercare, and run you a bath and dote on you and hug you till you fell asleep in his arms, smelling like rose scented bubble bath.

“Want me to knock you up again, sweetheart?” Ari asks you back in the present, fucking you so hard you’re seeing stars. His fat dick is hitting all the right spots inside you, making you arch your back as he keeps thrusting into you, hips going into jackhammer mode. “Because I will knock you up again, baby. Soon as you give me my boys, I’ll have you on your back and filled to the brim with my fucking cum so you get knocked up again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? Wouldn’t you? Fuck!”

“YES, YES, YES!” You scream at the top of your lungs, the pressure building up inside you till that invisible coil snaps and you cum so hard, you’re seeing stars. You collapse underneath Ari, and he has to hold you up as he continues to fuck you. But him describing how he’s going to knock you up again was enough for you to squirt all over his dick, your slippery walls squeezing his hard, fat cock that doesn’t stop its relentless assault inside you.

“Fuck yeah, baby, squeeze my fuckin’ dick!” Ari groans, using your limp body as a literal hole for his dick as he grabs your hips and makes you shake your ass on his dick, “Fuck yeah, baby couldn’t help but cum from the thought of getting knocked up by daddy, huh? Well, you gotta give me another one, honey. One orgasm isn’t enough for my baby girl.”

He pulls you up to your knees so your back is against his chest. And your body is completely limp and void of energy since orgasming had taken everything out of you, and you’re not even sure you can cum again like how he wants you to. But your beefy husband holds you up against him nevertheless, one big hand wrapping around your throat while the other cups your heavy breast and squeezes, and this whole time his hips don’t stop moving inside you. His fat dick driving in and out of you at different, varied paces. Slow so you can feel every ridge and vein, and then fast till his hips are a blur and you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You best fucking believe I’m always going to keep you pregnant from now on.” Ari growls in your ear, squeezing your tits together as he paws at you like a feral caveman, his fingers pressing against your throat and cutting off your air supply just enough for your vision to blur and it all feels so deliciously good and you’re long past the point of even being coherent as you wail and scream for him.

You can feel him losing himself, getting rougher and rougher. You know your husband too well, you know he’s turning himself on more and more at the idea of impregnating you again. His lips latch onto your neck, sucking and biting while his hands squeeze your breasts so hard it hurts, and you feel your milk dribble down your nipples.

Ari sees it too, and you swear you can feel his dick get even harder inside you. In a nanosecond, he’s manhandled you into a different position. Now, he’s sitting on the bed with you on top of him, and he’s bouncing you up and down on his dick. And oh my fucking God, it’s so much deeper this way! You can feel your puffy clit grind against his trimmed pubic hairs as he does all the work, his muscular arms wrapping around you, not caring at all that your pregnant belly is in the way as he continues to fuck up into you.

“Can’t let your mommy milk go to waste, can we?” Ari grins, grabbing your tit and latching his mouth on it immediately, sucking down so hard that you see stars. He lets go with a pop, “Guess I didn’t get all of it, huh, baby?”

You hold his head in place, carding your fingers through his brown waves as he continues to drink your milk like a ravenous beast, like he can’t get enough of it. Switching from one nipple to the other, giving both your breasts equal attention as he drains the milk from them.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re breastfeeding daddy, baby.” Ari tells you, his voice muffled as he keeps his face buried in your breasts. And all the while he’s bouncing you up and down on his dick, and you can feel your second orgasm start to build up – and he hasn’t even cum once yet! You wonder how he remains so calm, so casual enough to have a conversation with you during sex. Meanwhile you’re a dishevelled mess on top of him, head lolling to the side as you’ve already gone dumb from all his ministrations.

“God, fuck, gonna keep you pregnant at all times now, sweetheart.” Ari declares, getting feral again as his hand splays out on your belly. “I want at least five more kids, baby. You gonna give daddy five more babies?”

“Y-Yeah! Yeah, I will!”

“That’s a good fuckin’ girl. A good fucking baby wife. I’m so glad I found you, baby. I love you so fucking much.” He kisses you, pulling you by the hair till you’re flush against him, his hips fucking up into you at a blurring pace that makes you feel like he’ll rip you in half any second now.

“And all the other guys will be so fucking jealous that they don’t have a cute little knocked up baby wife who does whatever they ask. Fuck! Tell me you’re my cute little baby wife!” He pinches your nipple harshly before going back to your belly, rubbing it with his huge hand as he clutches you so close on top of him.

“ ‘m your cute little b-baby wife!” You moan, finally finding the energy to desperately ride him, up and down and backwards and forwards, grinding against the thick steel rod that is his dick as it jams up your poor, abused fuckhole.

“Damn right you are. And I’m your daddy who knocked you the fuck up. And I’ll do it again and again, because you’re my fucking property and I can do whatever the fuck I want with you! You got that? Fuck!”

“Yeah, oh fuck, yeah, daddy, you own me! Wanna have more of your babies! Want you to keep me pregnant all the time!” You blabber incoherently.

“And you’re gonna obey me, and be a good little mommy to all our children, aren’t you?” He smacks your ass hard, once, twice, three times till your ass is sure to be raw and all the while you nod and agree with him, “A good little mommy who does what she’s told to do, and spreads her legs every time daddy wants to knock her up again, you got that?”

“Yes!”

“Fuck, sweetheart. Can’t wait to come home to you taking care of our little ones. Five of ‘em, with another one on the way. Fuck, can’t fuckin’ wait for that.” Ari grunts, his thrusts growing deeper and hitting your spot so deliciously and making you mewl, as well as his words and promises of keeping you pregnant which have you turned on beyond belief.

The pressure in your lower belly builds up higher and higher, more intense till you almost can’t stand it. And it feels so deliciously good, your pleasure mounting higher and higher as Ari continues to fuck you throw it all, holding you close and coaxing you, telling you to cum again for daddy, giving you permission to let go and cover his fat dick in your cream. And you obey, and you cum so hard, marvelling at how much of it squirts out of you.

Like a broken faucet, squirt after squirt of your cum covers his cock, and you sob and clutch at Ari’s hairy chest, burying your face in his hard chest as you cum so hard you almost faint. “Oh daddy, daddy, daddy!” you whimper like a broken record, like a baby who’s collapsed and needs to be held by her big, strong daddy.

“That’s a good baby,” Ari coos, stroking your hair like you’re his good little girl and the pride in his voice makes you sag with relief and euphoria, and his thrusts grow sloppy as he continues to ride you through your orgasm. His fat balls slapping against your pussy, and you know his load will be big because he’s held off so long.

“Fuck, baby.” Ari lets out a guttural groan before he cums, emptying himself inside of you as spurt after spurt of his hot cum sears you from the inside out. Brands you as his as your greedy pussy squelches and swallows his seed like it’s your job. And Ari looks so proud, holding you so close to him till it hurts, like he doesn’t want a single drop of his cum wasted as he fills you up like you’re his personal cumdump. “God-fucking-dammit, your greedy little snatch is squeezing me so good, baby. Best fuckin’ pussy I ever had, taking all my daddy cum like a good little girl. Fuck, take it, take all of it!”

And you do, taking every drop of his thick ropes of cum till you feel so full, stuffed to the brim with his heavy load as you fall down, completely spent and breathing hard, on your back on the bed.

You’re completely sapped of all energy, and again you marvel at how Ari seems perfectly fine, as if he hadn’t just emptied the world’s biggest load inside of you after a long session of unbridled, hot, rough sex. But your husband seems more interested in your body in its post orgasmic glow, rubbing you all over as you rest from the fucking you’ve just received, marvelling at his cum as it drips out of your pussy.

“Looks like your baby pussy couldn’t keep it all in, honey.” Ari swipes a finger up your slit and it comes up covered in his cum. Your mouth drops open in the shape of an o, which works out in your husband’s favour as he feeds you the thick cum. Globs of it, again and again, swiping up from your pussy before he brings his finger to your lips and allows you to suckle it off him. And it’s all you can do in your weakened, post-fucked state, suckle his fingers like a baby as your daddy feeds you his cum.

“Th-Thank you, daddy.” You murmur weakly, not forgetting your manners as Ari smiles down at you smugly. Finally tearing his gaze away from your body, he lies down next to you and gathers you into his arms for a cuddle. Kissing the top of your head and all over your face as he holds you close to him, till you can feel his heartbeat in sync with your own.

“You’re welcome, baby. I love you so much.” Ari answers, looking like the happiest man in the world. And it’s such a powerful feeling, knowing it’s you who has made him feel this way.

“Love you too, daddy.” You say tiredly, cuddling close and burying your face into his hairy chest as you breathe in his intoxicating post-sex musk. “Can’t wait to give you more babies. Can’t wait for our boys to come. I’ll be the best mommy to your babies, I promise.”

Ari chuckles, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as he gazes at you with eyes filled with adoration. His hand goes down to cup your belly, and he squeezes you so close to him, you feel you might suffocate. But in the best way.

“I know you will, baby. I know you’ll take care of my children, but right now I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

“Okay, daddy.”

He runs you a strawberry scented bubble bath, carrying you to the bathroom and getting into the tub with you. Gently scrubbing you clean and massaging your sore muscles and sensitive skin while you lie on top of him in the bath, content and barely conscious from the incredible session of fucking you’ve just received. Smiling faintly as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, promising you the world and more, his words painting the perfect life which lays in store for you in the future, as well as the perfect life you’re currently living now – all because of him.

THE END! This is my ultimate fantasy and i have no clue why i never wrote it before now! pLEASE PELASE let me know what you think! thank you very very much! love you all!

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers #dark ari levinson #ari levinson fanfiction #steve rogers x reader

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buckyalpine · 1 year ago

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I'm just throwing out an idea while attending to my garden of boundless wips but just imagine the compound getting attacked and the one area that's the most damaged is the lab. Hackers want to steal all the Stark technology and they stop at nothing, waiting for the team to leave before they destroy the building, blowing the structure till it crumbles. The only one still remaining in the building is the lab tech.

The jet nears the compound; Tony and Steve are already suited up again while Sam adjusts his wings, Nat and Clint armed and ready to go.

Everyone but Bucky.

"Tony was anyone still in the building?" His face is filled with horror, staring at the smoke emitting from the areas that were hit, his heart hammering against his chest.

"My lab tech, y/n, she was still working when we left" Tony ran a hand over his face and the color drains from Bucky's cheeks.

"WHERE IS SHE" Bucky does everything in his power not to lose control, snapping back into soldier mode and strapping his weapons, shoving past Steve so he can jump out first as they near the compound.

"Barnes its okay, we'll find her" Tony reassures him but he can't hide the confusion on his face because why on earth was Bucky this concerned over his lab assistant. They had never spoken a word to each other, in fact he didn't even realize Bucky knew you existed.

"She's pregnant!" Bucky had never sounded so scared in his life, pulling himself together to keep from breaking down.

"What-when-how-how do you know" Tony had never felt more confused in his life while the others all whip their heads around, shocked at what he'd just said.

"That's my wife"

The jet doors open and Bucky is the first one out, sprinting through smoke and flames till he gets to the worst part of what's left, debris and rubble scattered over the floor. Bodies hit the floor as he takes out anyone that he sees without a second guess. He frantically searches, holding back his emotions till he spots the broken glasses first. Dust and crumbles cement cover your unconscious form, blood dripping from you forehead and he doesn't pause to try and wake you up himself.

She's in his arms and he's rushing to the med wing while the rest of the team trail behind him, seeing as he's already killed anyone that broke in. Once your taken in, all he can do is wait, pacing up and down the hall till he's given the all clear to see you. He sits by your bed, desperately holding onto your hand, Steve being the first to check on his best friend while the the others quietly enter after.

No one breathes a word till you finally open your eyes, giving you and Bucky privacy till you're ready to see the others. He's tucked into bed with you as they enter, his arm wrapped around your tummy, rubbing soft circles with his metal hand. You weren't showing much yet, seeing as it was still early on.

"Okay, spill, when did you marry my lab tech" Tony playfully teased while Bucky blushed, hugging you closer.

"Last year" He admitted, while Steve smirked, coming over to check on you.

"Doing okay sweetheart?" The blonde asked, plopping down on a chair beside your bed, smiling when you nodded, "How's my godchild"

"You knew?" Sam wacked Steve's shoulder only to be met with a snicker from both soldiers.

"Who do you think was the bestman" The captain smiled proudly while you giggled, giving Tony a sheepish smile.

"I was gonna tell you Mr. Stark"

"When, did you think I wouldn't notice a little super soldier running around the lab?" He cocked an eyebrow with a smile.

"You knew?" Sam repeated, still deeply offended while Steve shook his head, kissing your forehead before getting up so you could get some rest. The rest of the team followed after, deciding to bombard the two of you with questions after you'd slept.

"YOU KNEW?"

"Give it a rest Sam"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Almighty Captain, Never lies, Sir Honest A Lot, YOU KNEW?"

"Sam"

"YOU KNEW?!"

I'm sorry, this wasn't the most organized drabble, just an idea I wanted to toss out into the world.

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terastalungrad · 20 days ago

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I'm reading Life in Code by Ellen Ullman, writings on tech and philosophy.

I love the chapter "Is Sadie the Cat a Trick?", where Ullman talks of the 19 years she had with her cat Sadie, and - while reflecting on Artificially Intelligence - wonders whether the relationship between them was an illusion.

Was Sadie merely behaving according to her "programming"? Was Ullman merely imagining sentience?

Ullman considers various aspects of her relationship with Sadie. First, companionship. Second, familiarity:

[H]er coming to meet me at the door (even when her bowl was full, so it was not in the hope of getting dinner). There was mutual recognition of ritual: I knew the time of day when she moved to her favourite chair to take the sun, so I anticipated it and raised the shade. She knew I wrote in the morning, and, before I got to the desk, she was lying on her pillow by the heater, which had not yet been turned on. If it were just warmth she'd wanted, she could have stayed in bed with Elliot, who was living with me by then. Instead, she decided she would wait for me by a cold heater.

I love this paragraph very much. This reflection on the familiar behaviour of a pet, ostensibly to work out if there's a difference between a pet and sufficiently advanced AI. But also, it seems to me that this is an investigation into love itself.

Did Ullman's cat love her? Do any of our pets love us?

Instinctively, we think "yes". Ullman has applied a programmer's mind - and a philosopher's mind - to the question:

Companionship, familiarity, expectation, mutual recognition, bodily comfort: if this is not a definition of love between aging creatures, I don't know what is.

I'm away from home for a few days, with gigs in London and Birmingham. I always miss my wife when I'm away, and this essay hasn't helped at all thank you.

It makes me think of our own rituals. Sometimes - not often - I'm awake before Elanor. I know what time her alarm will go off, so I join her in bed a minute before, so she wakes up gently to a cuddle before the cold brutality of the alarm. When I'm working in the study, Elanor will sometimes open the door a crack, and wait to be invited in.

This is the difference between love and programming. Last time I was away, Elanor defrosted the freezer - an accomplishment of immense bravery and determination. She didn't tell me this, but when I came home she challenged me to work out what chore she'd done while I was away - knowing that, letting me discover this action by opening the freezer would be the best possible way for me to find out she'd done this.

How did Elanor know this? We've been together 20 years this month. Perhaps she reflected on the fact that I'm delighted by surprise, and by playfulness. Maybe she thought about the way I like stories - and that investigating the house, searching for new jobs completed, would give me the thrill of an adventure. It's possible she considered my love of novelty and shared experiences - and came up with this way of presenting her accomplishment according to these principles; these techniques for controlling the reveal.

All of this *could* be true. That Elanor consciously processed, analysed the data. Her understanding of me. Maybe, perhaps, possibly.

But I think she just knew.

Familiarity. Expectation. Recognition. Love between aging creatures!

People are so excited that generative AI can produce ugly pictures and bland copy. But I don't think it would curl up in front of a cold heater in an empty study.

Because any relationship with a program is an illusion. It isn't love. Because love isn't defrosting the freezer. Love is defrosting the freezer while your partner's away, anticipating their response, looking forward to their joy.

#Ellen Ullman #cats #artificial intelligence #love

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futureplayboibunnie · 1 year ago

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Aphrodesiacs Pt.6

Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader

You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

i’m back i’m back i’m back!

NSFW 18+ as always

It was the same old story, same old Miguel falling in the continuous spiral of something that he has long past an issue. The further this continued, it felt like another mistake living deep in chest. But he knew that this was objectively the right thing to do. Miguel blocked your number and broke his phone.

His stance remained firm and exhausted in same old boyishly endearing Miguel fashion, Peter B was standing next to him or something, saying whatever remark or sly jab at Miguel’s signature silent brooding. He wasn’t paying attention, words fell on deaf ears and he seemed even more disinterested in everything that was being uttered to him. It was like phasing out was a pitiful second instinct. All he seemed concentrated on was you, your tender sighs and sweet lips he could practically feel wet as you breathed over the phone. You were very brazen that night, it was surprising and refreshing in equal tandem. He would shut your vulgar mouth with his cock instead, he’d slap your cheeks raw with it and then slap his tip against your tongue until you’re begging him to just shove it in.

“Miguel? Buddy, you listening? Are you high or something?” Peter snapped his fingers in front of Miguel’s unappeased and unkind face to drag him away from something he never thought he would be: unfocused.

“Stop bothering me. I’m busy.” He huffed in response, his body language radiating stress. He was trying to occupy himself with working on some new tech but he couldn’t get that right either. If anything, Miguel needed to be bothered. Peter looked unimpressed and continued to be a pest warmly, in true Peter quips.

“Well it’s not my fault you’re acting all floozy and whistful into the horizon. When was the last time you even left here man?” Peter groans and grabs his cheeks like a mother would do to a small child, inspecting him gratuituously.

“Peter. Come on stop it.” Miguel grumbled lowly, not wantingto snap at him at the fullest terrifying extent he knew himself to be capable of. Peter squeezed his cheeks harder.

“You’re so damn pale…you’re like a vampire.” Peter chuckled at the inside joke that everyone actually believed that Miguel was a vampire ninja, he felt himself lighten up a little at that but he chose not to show it. Peter gasps in faux horror. “That beautiful warm golden honey glow is fading away with every second you’re here in your batcave.”

Miguel didn’t know what to say, the only time he’s ever left HQ is to go home and when he couldn’t sleep, which was always, he came back. Failing himself and everyone around him miserably. His mood strayed at the thought, but it was true. He wasn’t doing any good here, he wasn’t doing any good for you but he couldn’t tell Peter that. No one knew what was happening to him, only you, Jess and Lyla.

“Listen man, you need to get out of here. And it just so happens you know a guy who is throwing a cookout at their place back on their dimension. I.E: me.” Peter crossed his arms and looked terribly impressed with himself and Miguel just raised an eyebrow already tired of his neverending theatrics.

“No.” He said simply but firmly.

“Yes.”

“No.” He said more firmly this time.

“Yes.”

“Why?” Miguel snapped his gaze back at him, looking slightly agited but Peter wasn’t the only one with balls, he groaned out frustratedly at his candor.

“The Mysterio anomaly last week took 20 years off my already fantastic life and I need a break from it, so do you man. Plus my wife is way more unkind and insistent than me so she’ll be back to pull you by the ear so consider me a friendly warning.” Peter looked irked as he tapped his foot, waiting for a response that deserved a punch in the gut.

Miguel was in a state of bewildered shock, all he could let out was an eye twitch. He was so frustrated with you, with all of this that his nerve endings were on the outskirts of thoroughly cooked and fried with boundless anger. Every day his patience was stretching and every day was starting to feel like a losing battle but he had to keep reminding himself: it’s for the best, it’s for your own good. He absolutely deplored thinking it let alone repeating it but at this point he was too far gone to not give up now. All he needed was for you to stay away from him. God knows what you’d do to each other. Peter was right though, Miguel had the same routine: HQ, fail to sleep, HQ, avoid. Was it so wrong puncturing the rhythm of this soulless cycle? If he can’t be around you he might as well distract himself im more carefree ways, and he might not even get the opportunity ever again.

Miguel let out a short agitated huff and let out a pitiful yet stern “Fine.”

“I’m so convincing, it’s actually the only thing I have in my repertoire nowadays.” Peter beamed lightly, full of himself as always.

“Wait. I have one condition.” Miguel cut him off, his face mixing between frustration and anxiety.

“Okay?” Peter said hesitantly.

“Y/N can’t be there.” Miguel gaze was peneterating right through Peter, staring daggers into his face at the mere mention of your name. When he said your name he felt his mouth drawl back some drool, even saying your name had him salivating.

“What why?” Peter looked visibly confused at something so seemingly random. “I mean that’s gonna be quite difficult because her and my wife are actually the ones that are cooking for us sooo….No can do.”

Miguel looked like he got hit in the face with a brick, he was vacant and blank yet his eyes were slowly creasing, wincing at Peter for a split second and then groaning out in frustration, he almost sounded like a pained animal. God, this sweet torture.

“Lie to her. Make something up and get her to not go.” Miguel snarled poisonously, his true ferocity only showing just a fraction as it gleamed over twice in his eyes, Peter noticed it and decided not to press him further

“Okay.” Peter said hesitantly, attempting to sound cordial but he couldn't help but still be confused. This was all supposed to be for fun, he didn't want to randomly exclude people for no apparent reason. He couldn't argue with Miguel on it anyway, once his mind was set on something, Peter knew it was nearly impossible to knock it down.

Miguel's mouth went dry, his lips curled down into a crooked frown when he realized what he was about to walk into. Swimming was so pointless. Why the hell was he being coaxed into entertaining such petty things? He couldn't remember the last time he had relaxed or done something remotely fun, he used to think that working on new tech was 'fun', but now it was just a distraction to suck him out of the void of desperation. Avoiding it would be even more suspicious this time though, no one had properly seen much of him recently, and part of him wanted to see how everyone was doing. How everyone was doing without him. The thought shook him up. At least you won't be there to make him feel worse or lose any form of self-control. He was hoping it would be a breather from all this torment. It would go either one of two ways: fine or the absolute fucking worst. As always he would prepare for the worst.

Miguel arrived with a grimace he was trying to conceal, his weak smile when greeting Peter at the door was absolutely endearing and he hated it. He just had to remain calm for a few hours, show his face briefly, light conversation preferably about work and not leisure, he didn't need to grin he just had to bear it. Peter's house was in a quaint little suburb, Miguel threw his jacket in the bathroom and followed Peter when he led him to the back garden he was surprised to see that the pool was big and deep. Multiple Spideys were wilding out in it, having fun for once, not burdened by the consistent pressure to be a hero...like Miguel would put on them.

He frowned. And then his heart pulsated erratically.

Shit.

Of course.

Lord above save him.

Miguel's eyes scanned wildly around and then his gaze landed on you. His living breathing torment. You. Sprawled out on a sunbed, stomach down, kicking your feet as you drank in the golden sun, liquid rays pouring on every inch of your bikini-clad skin. God, it barely covered anything. Your back dipped and the curve of your ass was on full display. Miguel's face dropped into a mindless gawk, eyes wide and mouth agape, he swallowed when he saw what MJ was doing. She was rubbing your back down with sunscreen or tanning oil or whatever, he stood there looking like a complete idiot as he stared at you. You looked so blissed out, letting your eyes flutter as a lazy smile painted your face.

This was awful.

He was lying.

This was perfect. So damn perfect. A wet dream was written out in front of his eyes

His eyes then snapped to Peter, and an anxious yet irritated glare pierced right through him. “Why is she here?” Miguel gritted through clenched teeth. Peter just elbowed him playfully.

“Get your talons out of your ass and have fun man. Does it really matter? Wait did you...You and her-? Oh, you did that's why.” Peter chided, elbowing him in the bicep as if he uncovered the truth of ali of his schemes. “Hey man, I'm not judging you.”

Peter walked away chuckling and Miguel's gawk became even more apparent when you opened your eyes and they directly met his. When you saw him, you were sure you could've finished right then and there, eyes gleaming and wide and lips instinctively wetting. Why did he have to be so insanely hot? It's cruel and inhumane. He was wearing a grey compression shirt that fit him so damn tight and some black swimming shorts that made his thighs look beefy as fuck. You didn't even think he'd come, but obviously, Peter had to lure the snake away. You hadn't talked to him since you spoke on the phone and even then you promised you would go back to avoiding each other. He was just keeping that promise no matter how much it pained him. Especially in that tiny little bikini. The gaze you shared felt like it had been going on for hours, Miguel shook his head and grunted before turning his back to leave. This was a huge mistake. You looked so incredible it was making him lose it.

“Oh, it looks like Miguel got here.” MJ teased but you didn't even care enough to listen, you panted heavily and loosened out of her hold and rolled onto the floor and scrambled yourself up and practically rushed inside.

Pathetic and desperate didn't even begin to cover it at this point.

Miguel went into the bathroom to get his jacket, mumbling with a stern look on his face, that little v forming in between his eyebrows whenever he furrowed his brows. He quickly glanced in the mirror and took a minute to contemplate his purpose, he was sweating and the hair on his body stood to attention, it was the moment before being struck by lightning but a thousand times worse. He raked his hands through his hair, rubbed his eyes, and went to leave. When he opened them you were at the doorway. Getting closer to him. And then you closed the door behind you and leaned on it. Miguel just took and deep breath and sighed once your scorching gazes connected again. You could feel your bones going limp as he practically stared a hole into your face

He could see every dip and curve of your body, the thin fabric of your bikini covered so little but he already knew what was under it. He wanted to feel it. He needed to feel it. You had this confused aloof look on your face, a pretty pink stain on your lips and cheeks, eyes sparking with a sincere desperation that you couldn't hide when you were this close.

“Thanks for getting rid of the restriction on my watch, that was very philanthropic of you.” Your lips curved into a jagged scowl as you quipped sarcastically, and you crossed your arms like you were in a huff but Miguel wasn't thinking clearly.

“Thought we said we go back to avoiding each other.” Miguel raised an eyebrow at you. You were shining under the dim bathroom lights, the tanning oil that MJ put on you causing your skin to gleam and shimmer, your scent and skin were driving him crazy but he had to hold it together. It was all he had left.

You paused, taking yourself off the door and taking a few small steps closer to him.

“You know as much as I do that I wouldn't have been able to do that.” You whisper, blinking up at him.

“Don't give me that look.” Miguel averted his gaze elsewhere to the pale walls of the bathroom but like a magnet, his eyes always drew back to you. He was staring at your lips. Sweet yet cunning. Mesmerisingly calculating.

“Does it make me a bad person that I want to see you break?” You smiled slyly at him, half joking half not.

“Today's not that day.” He smirked, almost teasing you. It was like a second instinct, to butter you up and then leave you on edge. Miguel brushed passed you and you scoffed at his reply.

“Ouch.” You giggled dryly. “Fine. Let's manage then.” You rolled your eyes and he just let out a neutral 'hmm."

Miguel's hand went to the door handle and he tried to pry it open, not thinking anything of it initially but the handle wouldn't budge. He cocked an eyebrow, confused at his lack of strength. Then he tried again. It still wouldn't move.

“Ugh, what's taking so long? Open the door.” You groaned before turning around to see that he physically couldn't open the door. It was stuck.

"No. No. This can't be happening.” He mumbled with a strain under his breath, his eyes shot open and a confused look washed over his face, then it turned to anger. White hot anger.

“Move.” You grunted and then elbowed him to the side, the small brush of skin was enough to send sparks alighting under both of you. Ignoring it as per usual, you pulled on the handle, your grip tightened and even with all vour might it still wouldn't fucking open.

"Oh my fucking God.” Miguel buried his head in his hands and paced around as you continued to try and pry the door open, groaning and failing miserably.

“We're stuck in here.”

IM BACK FROM VACAY MORE CHAPTERS V SOON!

taglist (giggles): @thel0velykey190 @scaleniusrm @drefear @imkikibtw @tbeanie3 @spxctorsslxt @saturnknows @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @mafer383 @i-feel-violated @crowleysthings @avatar-lover @l3laze @wyvernnest @rowboatweeb @schniti-is-in-the-house @defnot-bri @awkward-d3rs3-dramer @hasai69 @unnisumi @irongardenermaker @d1lf-loverrr @iamv1n @ro99se @nxrdamp @mrssabinecallas @jesmynsjoys @spiderman2099sgf @xiylio @leahnicole1219 @reine-sans @tallmanlover @neverlandlostchild @axerrri @frieschan @plzfeedmebread @rorel1a @z0mbiekat @rey26 @stunkbiggu @leshiestybebe @honeycovered-bandaids @leviathans-fish @hearttjason @brittney69 @thyroidissues @4imhry @pinkliquor @realalpacorn @wonylvxz @dr-skazka @simoniithehomii @aisyakirmann @deezisnotreal @synamonthy @bread6069 @iite-cool @thedevax

#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

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yoonieper · 3 months ago

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For the Birds— Part 5 | JJK

I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (feat. Yuri)

♡ Genre: angst, smut, future fluff!, this chapter is pretty much pWITHp (can be read alone)~

♡ Rated: T for Tension

♡ 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: spicyyyy, Jk is a bit of a dick, Y/n stands up for herself, major tension, emotions are flowing, slightly subby Jungkook makes a bit of an appearance, thigh riding (m ;D), masturbation (f), public(ish) sex, hand job, protected sex (be smart friends <3)

♡ Word Count: 17.5k

♡ Summary: As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.

♡ Now Playing: Somebody Else by Maxine Ashley— see masterlist for playlist!

♡ Beta: Thank you so much to @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: Sorry for the delay friends! The end of last month was a bit hectic for me and then I got sick delaying me even more :') This might happen a lot more often where the schedule I have on the masterlist might diverge from when I can actually get the chapter out because college has started for me once again, so things in my life might get in the way a little more often of editing and ultimately publishing 😭 Thank you all so much for waiting, your patience, and I hope you all enjoy this different type of chapter :D Anyway, this is The Office Sexcapades Part 1 ;)

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much : D

previous chapter « main masterlist ✩ series masterlist » coming 9/15

After you and Jungkook parted ways, you thought things had finally changed between you two. Maybe not entirely, but you wanted to believe you had turned over a new leaf in your relationship. You thought you had extinguished, or at least simmered, the animosity you felt for each other and something strange but new had started to take its place. You honestly didn’t mind it.

You had left the storage room with a dopey smile plastered on your face and a weird pep in your step as you made your way back to your desk. The man you hated only a month ago had managed to send you to another dimension and you still hadn’t come back yet. You felt high in the best way possible and there was some part of you that didn’t want to leave his side when you both agreed you probably had been gone too long. You even gave him a hug before you left the room, Jungkook mumbling a sweet “thank you” into your hair before you pulled away to leave.

It was all still a bit weird, but you wanted to think that this was all the confirmation you needed that things had truly changed between you two. Was it complicated? Yes, this shift was the result of an affair, which wasn’t a solid foundation whatsoever, but the change in your relationship wasn’t entirely bad. At least you didn’t hate each other anymore.

However, you were in for a shock when you came into work on Monday.

THUNK

The first thing you were greeted with was Director Son being back (yay!). However, before you could even process his return, he was setting a mountain of paperwork on your desk. The size of the stack was far beyond a reasonable workload. It was so tall, even your coworkers could easily see it through the window of your office without needing to crane their necks over their computer screens.

After you paid your respects and welcomed Director Son back, you finally asked what the pile of paperwork on your desk was all about because it just had to be a joke or a prank. You were ready for someone to jump out with a phone in hand laughing hysterically at the face you made that was now recorded for everyone to see.

“Beats me, I just got back today. All I know is that it comes straight from Director Jeon,” he had sighed in sympathy. You scanned the faces of the rest of the team who were standing outside your office. No one was stifling a laugh, trying their absolute hardest to make this as believable as possible. Instead, they sent you worried glances and sympathetic looks as they quietly gasped at the outrageous amount of paperwork.

When Taehyung arrived at the office, he came up to you during the chaos of it all. “Woah? What did you do to piss him off this time?” He chuckled lightly, but you could hear the undertone of concern.

For a second, you tried to rack your brain to see if you could remember if Jungkook had mentioned he would be sending you a lot of work on Monday, anything he said that could have possibly rationalized this. You came up with nothing.

The details from Friday had been ingrained into your memory at the highest definition. You were practically still experiencing it first hand— every sight, sound, touch, and taste from that day. The chance of you forgetting him telling you about a workload of this magnitude was next to none. The moments you spent with him especially were vibrant; the clarity was irrefutably against the possibility of it simply having slipped your mind. At no point on Friday had he mentioned anything to you about work, or even sent you a text over the weekend to let you know what you’d find on your desk on Monday. He’d completely blindsided you.

Knowing Jeon Jungkook, there was only one reason he would assign you this much work without warning. Mr. Jeon Jungkook, Head Director Jeon, Director Jeon, or what he had urged you to call him so casually, Jungkook, was pissed off, and there was no doubt in your mind that his anger was directed at you.

As Taehyung waited for your answer, you had to stop yourself from instantly bursting into tears. It was not just because you knew you would be stuck at the office all night because of how much work you had to do, but also because after everything you shared together, he was suddenly being a dick to you… again?

Why? What could you have possibly done to him to make him hate you again with so much vigor that he would assign you this mountain of paperwork in the middle of the chaos of Q4? Had Friday meant nothing after all? Were you just another hole he used to take out his sexual frustration from his marriage? Had those sad, round, sweet eyes and pleas been nothing but a lure to get you to agree to the affair? In any normal situation, you would have never gone along with it in a billion years. Maybe he had seen right through your guise and did whatever was necessary to get his dick wet. Maybe he was through with you, the allure was gone, the fantasy was broken, and he wanted nothing more than to punish you for your stupidity and believing his silly act. Or maybe it wasn’t so complicated. Maybe it was simply your fault for thinking things had changed between you two.

You had to resist marching straight to his office to give him a piece of your mind, but you didn’t have the energy, time, or desire to create a scene. Instead, you took a few deep breaths, headed to the bathroom to quickly dry your watery eyes, and marched out ready to tackle the workload.

It took you all night and well into the early morning hours to get everything done. It was tedious, detailed, and you knew Jungkook purposely gave it to you in paper form to make it that much more challenging to complete. In your peripheral vision throughout the night, you saw your coworkers say their goodbyes before leaving for their lives outside the office. You even saw Jungkook himself, normally someone who stayed far beyond a reasonable time, pass by and head down the hall to the elevators before you were even halfway done.

The office had turned dark and your eyes were strained from staring at your computer screen and the tiny font on the papers for far too long, but you saw him. You heard the sound of his fancy dress shoes clicking against the tile first, and even though you tried not to look up, you noticed him pass by through the window. You heard his pace slow down, probably just wanting to see you and relish in your suffering. You felt his eyes linger on your form, but you didn’t dare make eye contact. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. You kept your eyes on your work as his footsteps faded into the distance. You truly felt done with him.

Over the next few days, Jungkook would hardly look at you during the rare occasions you’d be near each other. It wasn’t like you had grown close anyway, but whenever you were in the same room you’d normally make a little small talk to ease the tension. But now Jungkook wouldn’t even spare a glance in your direction. He was avoiding you like the plague, so you did the same.

Also, even though it wasn’t as much as Monday, Jungkook kept choosing to be a dick to you and personally assigned you more work than reasonable every day. You had no time to confront him, but you didn’t want to anyway. For whatever reason, he wanted to be mean and avoid you instead of having some type of adult conversation. You couldn’t deal with people like that. It made it easy to want nothing more than to forget Jeon Jungkook even existed.

Maybe you really had been fooled. Jungkook had played you for the sap you were and manipulated you into sleeping with him. But as angry as you were, you couldn't find yourself able to believe that. Even though you were avoiding him, you still paid close attention anytime you were in the same room. The dark cloud continuously storming over him that you had noticed before raged with even more ferocity, still following him around no matter where he was or who he was with. The blank look behind his eyes grew worse with each day that passed. You were honestly confused how no one else had noticed.

Things hadn’t changed. If anything, they might have only gotten worse than before. You tried your best to restrain your emotions instead of immediately believing the first theory your mind conjured up. Maybe you just wanted to believe that he hadn’t used you, but you truly wanted to hope there had been more to Jungkook’s vulnerability than just a front he used to get to you.

It took a while, but eventually you settled on the most likely outcome and assumed that he was taking whatever feelings he had about the affair out on you for some reason. You had no idea why you had to suffer for a choice he made twice despite your warnings, but it just proved to you that at the end of the day, he really was a dick.

Whatever the reason, you really just didn’t want to deal with him anymore. What happened happened. It was in the past, you couldn’t take it back now, and he had to realize that. You didn’t mind pretending nothing happened because right now you just wanted to forget it all— forget Jeon Jungkook, forget last week, and honestly, fuck him.

•────•──────────•────•

Jungkook was a horrible person. The certainty of that truth became painfully obvious as the days passed. He knew how he was treating you wasn’t right, yet he was still awful to you anyway. He just couldn’t be any more pathetic.

Ironically, Jungkook wasn’t even mad at you. Far from it actually— he wanted you so much that it was the very thought of you that pissed him off far beyond a concerning degree. He made an executive decision that despite what he said to you in his office, he needed to listen to his conscience and stop the affair before things got worse. How was he ever going to make things right with Yuri if he was sleeping with you? It didn’t make any sense and he knew that. He knew he needed to end this here and now. After you left, Jungkook had sat in the darkness of the storage room crying over the thought that he was making things worse for him and Yuri and he was a terrible husband. But despite everything, he still couldn’t bring himself to regret doing it. He was just awful, horrible, and truly pathetic.

Jungkook was so eager to fix things with Yuri, but when has an affair ever been the answer or led to anything good? How was he ever going to repair their relationship if he was spending his time fucking you on the side? He would just look like the biggest hypocrite of the century.

Jungkook didn’t hate you per se, but he hated the failure that you represented. It was cruel, he was cruel, after everything you did for him, to repay you with an unreasonable amount of work in an already busy time. It just wasn’t fair to you. You probably hated him now. And he almost wanted that to be true. It was just another way to ensure he would stay away from you and get back to what should be his priority: the marriage he was fucking up.

Jungkook had hoped it would be easy to move on if he kept you away. The stars even aligned to allow him the opportunity to focus on his wife and put the affair in the past. Yuri had come home early one evening when Jungkook had happened to be home as well. They talked and even shared a meal by candlelight together that their chef had prepared. Sure, things were a little awkward and they only really spoke about work. Anytime Jungkook tried to bring up another topic, Yuri seemed disinterested. However, they did briefly discuss the upcoming annual holiday celebration that their families always held together and shared which of their favorite dishes they were looking forward to having, which was nice.

It was good, though. At the very least, she was tolerating his presence, and that was better than the disdain she usually had in her eyes whenever she looked at him.

Jungkook went to bed in better spirits than he had been over the past few days. He was able to easily fall asleep, though he would have preferred doing so with Yuri in his arms. He knew not to try it and ruin their good evening. He slept through the night and would have likely missed his alarm if Yuri hadn’t woken him up. His tired eyes strained to see her straddled over his lap. The sun had barely come up, but he could see the look in her eyes as she stared down at him. It made him hot in an instant.

“Touch me.” She had whispered right in his ear. It was a command, one that ignited a flame all too quickly. He felt wanted, maybe even needed, as he hastily flipped her onto her back while he began eating her out.

He was truly a horrible person. The whole time he pleasured Yuri, all he could think about was you in the storage room. The way you gripped his hair and all the pretty sounds you made with each swipe of his tongue. He missed you…

But Yuri was also so pretty, she always was, and when he finally brought her over the edge, his cock pleaded for her in his shorts. It had been so long, but he knew better than to push it. And he was right as always. The minute he got off her, she went to shower and he left him stuck alone in their room.

He missed the way you pulled him close after you finished. How you reached into his pants, touched him, and pleaded for more. He missed how you felt around him, how you held him in your arms while he cried. He really missed you. Jungkook had to fight every urge in his body to stop himself from reaching into his shorts for relief.

He wanted to be good for Yuri. He had to be. He kept telling himself that, but like the hypocrite he was, he finally went to the store to pick up condoms on his way to work. It wasn’t because he was preparing for when Yuri would let him go all the way, no, they were for you. He put them in one of his drawers in his desk, hidden underneath some papers, but not too out of reach in case of emergency. You probably didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, but he got the condoms anyway.

As much as Jungkook had tried to push you away, he never stopped wanting you. Each time you’d pass each other, which was rare because he made sure to avoid you, you grabbed his attention. He thought his feelings would pass, but as the days went by, they only got more intense. His body ached to have you all over again, and as much as he wanted to tough it out, wait for Yuri, and hopefully put the affair behind him, he was weak. So weak, that despite all of his intentions, he texted you to meet him at the storage room again with the emoji you had both discussed beforehand.

Jungkook [1:32pm]: 📦 3:15

He’d been shy about it. He spent days fighting between his urge to text you and to also resist the temptation and focus on Yuri. Like she always said though, he was weak, and ultimately caved despite his efforts.

He worried he would come off as needy and desperate, especially because of how he’d treated you, but it wasn’t far from the truth. What if he was texting too soon? What was too soon? You probably hated him, what was he thinking?!

He didn’t think you’d show up. Part of him didn’t want you to, hoping his efforts had paid off and you were done with him. But the other half of him was relieved when he heard your two knocks followed by another two knocks.

A wave of guilt hit him the minute he opened the door and saw you looked less than pleased to see him. He knew he deserved it. He deserved you never even looking in his direction again, but somehow here you were. You hadn’t deserved any of his anger. Your presence both infuriated him and calmed his spiked nerves. It wasn’t fair to you. He was cruel.

“What?” You barked. You were mad. You had every right to be.

Jungkook felt the tears start welling up in his eyes at his conflicted emotions. He felt bad, despite his resentment of you. He truly felt bad because he knew you didn’t deserve his anger. It was he who begged to have you again despite all his concerns. This situation you both found yourself in now was all his fault.

“Did you just bring me here to give me more work? I don’t have much time thanks to you.” You were angry, but he could still hear the hurt in your voice. He hurt you. He couldn’t stop hurting anyone who got near him…

Jungkook just stared at you with an almost dazed expression. He seemed out of it, even more so than normal. Maybe any other day you would have actually been concerned, but you didn’t want to see him, not now, or really ever again. You just came because apparently he was finally willing to speak to you again, so you thought it would be the perfect time to end whatever was happening between you two. Not that anything really even had begun in the first place. It should have ended after the first time. It should have never even started. This was a huge mistake that you knew would follow you for the rest of your lifetime.

He didn’t say anything back, just continued to stare at you. You couldn’t see him very well, but you were getting tired of his silence. Part of you thought agreeing to his request to meet would give you some concrete answers as to why he might be upset at you. What could you have possibly done to make him so mad when you hadn’t spoken since the last time you were in this room together? It seemed all he wanted to do was stare at you in confusion, and you really didn’t have time for that.

“Director Jeo— Jungkook, look, I don’t really want to be around you, so if you don’t have anything to say then—” You were ready to turn around, leave, and be done with this situation, done with him, but of course just as you were reaching for the door, you felt a hand on your wrist stopping you in your tracks.

“Don’t— Don’t you see how hard I’m trying to do that?!” His voice was shaky, but you could still hear the agitation. You finally turned around and at this angle you could see the shininess in his eyes.

Jungkook suddenly had your back against the wall, his arms by your side, effectively caging you in. However, he maintained enough distance between you two to stop short of being intimidating. If you wanted to, you could easily push past him.

“I’m trying to keep you as far away as possible, but you’re making it so—,” he buried his head in your shoulder, “—so fucking hard.” There was a bite to his words, an edge that told you he really was angry with you.

Fuck him.

“I want to be a good husband— I want to be good to my wife. I don’t want to betray her any more than I already have, but—” One of his hands came down to settle on your waist. So softly, he was always so gentle. You hated the way your body tingled at his touch.

“You’re making this so hard—” It felt wrong, but having you in front of him felt right all at the same time. He needed you, painfully so.

“Look at me.” Your words were harsh as you roughly grabbed his hair and pulled him off of your shoulder. Jungkook was certainly not prepared for your aggression, and how it embarrassingly went straight to his achy length. His cheeks burned as he stared down at you.

“I get you have shit going on, but what you’re not going to do is have the issues in your life interfere with my career. You’re making my life hell, and do you know how that makes me look in front of my team?” You finally released all the pent-up rage you’ve felt through the years working for him and you enjoyed the shocked look on his face as he processed your words. He needed to hear them.

“And you have the nerve to call me back in here after the bullshit you’ve put me through? You made me think things had changed, but you’re still just as petty as you’ve always been. You’re actually ridiculous.” Your anger was justified, so justified that Jungkook was tempted to just break down and cry. You were right and even worse, it was pathetic how he started to feel the strain of his pants growing tighter at the same time. Just a sad, sad human being.

Your hand then rose, and Jungkook watched as you sadistically toyed with the collar of his shirt before running your fingers down the line of his buttons, playing and pulling them lightly. Your finger finally made it to where he had his shirt tucked into his pants, then to his belt buckle, and then you suddenly cupped his growing bulge.

“Fuck!” He was way too loud, but he truly wasn’t expecting that. Tears immediately fell from his eyes, a chaotic storm of emotions swirled around in his head. He felt guilty, he was also frustrated, but more than anything, he just wanted you to touch him. As embarrassing and shameful as it was, he rocked into your hand, wanting more friction so badly. Your grip tightened, squeezing him so he felt your anger in the most pleasurable sense possible, along with the pain he more than deserved.

“I’m sorry!” he cried, tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Don’t apologize. You know you meant what you did. If you want this to continue, you’re not going to pull that shit and try and act like nothing happened. You’re the one who begged for my help. If you’re done with this, just fucking say it. Got it?” you spat. Gone was the unconditional sweetness you’d shown him until this point despite how horribly he had treated you over the years. He had almost thought it wasn’t possible to make you mad, how it was the only way you tolerated him at all, but that clearly wasn’t the case. He fucked up and he took in every word you spat at him.

Jungkook hurriedly nodded.

“As for this…” You squeezed him once again, making Jungkook silently cry out. He wasn’t sure if it was out of pleasure or pain at this point. “If you want to get off so badly, you’re going to have to work for it.” You eventually said, moving your hand away, making Jungkook whine at the loss of contact.

You then propped your leg up against the wall and pulled him a little closer by his waist so he was gliding right across your thigh. Jungkook moaned at the sensation and pushed you further into the wall. He was embarrassed how easily you riled him up and his cheeks burned at the intimate position. What were you doing?

“Y/n…” he groaned, confused as to what this was, but you were quick to guide him. Your hands returned to his waist and you pulled him forward before pushing him back and bringing him closer again.

Oh.

It was an odd position, but one you quickly figured out he didn’t hate. You wished you could see his expression better, but the darkness didn’t hide everything. With your hands as a guide, you pushed and pulled him in a steady rhythm. His rugged breathing grew more labored and the whines he tried his best to suppress grew more pained and filled with need.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” you chuckled darkly.

“What are you doing— oh!” he hurried out, but was cut off by a groan as you started to speed up the pace a little.

“Mmm, you know exactly what I’m doing. You loved getting off on my thigh when we were together before. Isn’t this what you wanted after all? Isn’t that the only reason you called me in here?” If you could see his face, you would have seen how badly his cheeks were burning. His eyes were watery all over again at the accusation and the compromising position.

It was true; it was all true. He didn’t bring you here to apologize. That would be a lie. Even though he knew how wrong it was, he still wasn’t sorry. He needed to push you away, he just had to, because if not—

“Oh!” You sped up the pace just a little more and a moan embarrassingly slipped from his lips at the change. He was so weak.

“Say it. Why did you ask me to come here?” You had to repeat your question to let him know that it wasn’t rhetorical. You wanted an answer.

He stumbled like it was a hard question to answer, but he knew the answer exactly. It was just the shame of it all that made it hard to tell you.

“Say it or I’ll leave,” you almost cooed, teasing as you lifted your thigh up a little further, making him cry out. You knew what you were doing. He wanted you so badly, he didn’t want you to go.

“I bought condoms— I have one in my back pocket,” He hurried out even faster— embarrassed, ashamed, and mortified at how it looked. But there was no further elaboration needed. He only brought you here to use them. He was horrible, selfish… the list went on, really.

You chuckled lightly to yourself. “Thank you for being honest, but not today—”

“But—” Jungkook rushed out, and pushed into your thigh a little faster all on his own. He didn’t want you to leave, he really didn’t.

“But nothing. Like I said, if you want anything you’re going to have to get yourself off just like this. You wanted to be mean, so we’re not fucking today and I’m not letting you touch me. This is the most you’re getting, so take it or leave it.”

The familiar hostility was different with you than it was with Yuri. He’d found himself in this same situation more often than not, but with Yuri, it came with an overwhelming dread that he wasn’t good enough for her. But with you… Maybe he had issues— no, he definitely did— but all he could focus on was that you had given him a way out. You didn’t curse his very existence and tell him to stay as far away from him as possible. You didn’t scream or yell. You were calm and slightly sultry in the way you spoke. You were mad at him, just like Yuri had been, but he didn’t understand why you didn’t scream at him too. You had more than every reason to. Your punishment was cruel, but it was far kinder than what he deserved.

It didn’t make sense, but in the haze of it all, all he could focus on was his desire to have you. For once, he didn’t want to think. He was always in his head too much these days.

Jungkook didn’t realize you were expecting an answer, but you didn’t need one as he responded by hurrying his pace across your thigh, a light moan falling from his lips as he finally relaxed and let go.

“Please—” he groaned into your shoulder. “I’ll take anything.” It was desperate and sad, more than sad, but he didn’t have the energy anymore to even try and pretend he wasn’t at his wits end.

Jungkook didn’t see the way that you smiled at his words. Instead, all he felt was the way you gently pulled him off of your shoulder and lightly pressed a kiss on his damp cheek. The affection made him whine, wanting to meet your lips more than anything, to drown in you like he had been thinking of doing ever since you left the storage room last time. But you gave him no such relief as you pulled away and slowly lowered your thigh down.

Jungkook felt like he was seconds away from crying. He had agreed to play your game, so why were you pulling away? It didn’t make any sense, and as soon as you moved away he felt himself start to lose it at the thought of needing to take care of the problem you had caused all on his own.

However, that wasn’t your plan. Instead, in the darkness, you brought your hand up to gently tuck his hair behind his ears. You wanted to see him better. Even if you were furious with him, he was still such a pretty boy.

Jungkook wasn’t touched much, that much was obvious, so a gesture so soft went straight down to his pleading cock that was already straining in his pants. He pushed you further into the wall, his hands on your waist eager to feel and touch you. He wanted to fuck you just like this, against the wall, as you stared into each other’s eyes. The sounds he knew you would make, he wanted you—

“Mmmm, don’t get too eager,” you quickly reminded him.

“I’ll be good.” He had to be.

“You better be. Just because I’m letting you do this doesn’t mean I’m not still mad at you.” Your voice was soft and calm, almost infuriatingly so.

“Likewise.” His tone was pained, but gritty and challenging, as if you didn’t hold all the power in the situation and could easily walk away whenever you pleased. But he was being honest— he was mad, just maybe not directly at you. But seeing you lit a fire underneath him so hot that just being here with you could melt him in seconds. Nothing about your effect on him had changed or would change. Maybe he’d eventually grow stronger to resist you again like he had over the last few years, but right now he was spiraling and he knew that. Just for a second, he wanted relief.

You definitely weren’t expecting the attitude, but you had said you didn’t want him to lie. You tried your best to ignore the way your heart reacted knowing without a doubt now that he was mad at you. Did you feel hurt? Pain? Maybe something else entirely?

Whatever it was, you did your best not to show it and the darkness of the storage room offered further aid to conceal your wavering emotions. If he wanted to be like that, so could you.

Instead of responding with something sassy, you grabbed his hand and squinting your way through the darkness, you were able to guide him over to a table— the same table he snatched your soul on nearly a week ago. How things had changed so quickly, or rather, maybe nothing had changed at all. You could just see everything for what it was now.

You hopped up on the table and before Jungkook could question it, you pulled him close so he was nestled between your legs and the distance between you almost disappeared. You lightly ran your hands down his sides, basking in his soft sighs as your hands settled on his waist.

“And what could I have possibly done to you to make you so upset at me?” you chuckled darkly. You knew the answer, but you just wanted to hear him say it.

You didn’t hesitate to move him so he was straddled over your thigh. It was ironic really, his words said one thing but he was so quick to submit to you. Jungkook groaned, not even needing your help to get things started as he steadily moved himself across your thigh.

The darkness didn’t help whatsoever with seeing what you knew would be such a glorious sight, but with the light peeking in from underneath the door, you could still make out the faint outline of his sharp features and his disgruntled expression. Your admiration was interrupted when you suddenly felt his hand lightly cup your cheek and he brought you close to rest his forehead against yours.

“You exist.”

You could barely hear him. It was so delicate, hardly over a whisper, but the way his voice wavered made his pain obvious. Deep down, you knew that probably wasn’t a lie or an exaggeration to get under your skin. It was clear he meant what he said, but instead of storming out like you probably should have, a wave of conflicting emotions hit you all at once and kept you in your place.

It quickly made you remember the very reason you found yourself in this position in the first place. Jungkook wasn’t ok, and whatever he was battling with was eating him up inside and clearly winning. It was awful to watch and you couldn’t imagine what he must be going through. As hurtful as his words sounded, you found you couldn’t pull away from his soft touch.

You let him kiss you. You had no desire to stop him anyway. He did it so well. His kisses reminded you of a fire— at times a fireplace you would sit and enjoy with a good book, and other times it was ash, the aftermath of a warzone when all that was left was destruction. This time, however, the fire was a blazing fury of passion, still burning brightly, but the aftermath seemed inevitable. While it was clear he wasn’t nearly as mad at you as you were at him, you could feel the anger he kept subdued in the way he hurriedly pulled you close. If the situation had been different, you would have thought it was a little hot.

You finally snapped yourself out of your daze and pulled away.

“What did I say about touching?” you reminded him, and it was almost startling how quickly he dropped his hand.

“Sorry— I’ll be good—” he mumbled as his attention turned from your face down to where your bodies met. Jungkook’s face burned. As much as his body was pleading for more, he couldn’t deny he somewhat enjoyed this punishment. The position was a little embarrassing, but as your hands started pulling and pushing him, he couldn’t say he hated the way you were handling him. It reminded him of the times that Yuri would sit in his lap and pin him down. A punishment that only made the ache worse in every possible way. Just the thought of it made Jungkook chase a little faster into the feeling of it all and pull you a little closer.

“Oh— fuck.” Jungkook practically whined at the quickening pace. The friction was good and he really didn’t need much of it to get off. Yuri had given him less in the past and he had made it work. It didn’t take very long for him to become putty in your hands. He had already been on edge before you even got here, so now—

“Y/n, please— can I— fuck—” Jungkook was struggling. He needed to be good, but he also wanted more. This position made him think back to the last time you both were in this storage room, how good it felt to be inside you— how good it would feel to do it again. It was painful how much he wanted to.

Somehow, you were able to understand his pleas. “I told you this is all you’re getting.” You were stern, but not in the same way Yuri would have been. As angry as he was at the situation, his punishment was deserved— in fact, he deserved worse. The fact you were letting him do anything at all was a testament to how kind and forgiving you were. The realization just made him feel even worse. And he couldn’t stop begging for more…

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook was quiet after that, instead doing his best to silently get as far as he could. The whole situation made his insides feel like a flurry of butterflies, which had more than a small effect on his cock. Wound up from Yuri’s lack of affection, wound up from thinking of you despite how hard he tried not to, and wound up from the sweet, sweet pleasure from your thigh— it was enough to quickly turn him into a mess. You seemed to notice that he was starting to struggle.

You stopped helping him, instead letting your hands fall behind you as you watched him struggle in the dark. Maybe he’d grown tired, or maybe he was too caught up in thinking about what it felt like to be inside you, but he just needed more.

“Fuck, I don’t think I can… I’m close, but— Y/n, please—” he cried, his eyes watery. It wasn’t enough and he was honestly terrified you’d leave him at any moment. He knew Yuri would have by now. She always hated his begging and you probably did too. You probably hated him completely. He was pathetic.

Before he could embarrass himself any further, you took it upon yourself to put him out of his misery. You brought his face closer, pressing a languid kiss right on his lips. It was messy— Jungkook being so eager at the slightest touch, but it was nice. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were enjoying seeing him like this a little too much. So eager that he’d do anything, even ride your thigh, for the opportunity to get off. It was cute, and saying it was a little hot as well would be an understatement.

As your kisses trailed down his neck, you bathed in his soft sighs of pleasure and tiny moans and pleas for more.

“Oh— oh—” he whined. It felt too good.

You didn’t plan to go any further. You thought you could be content with just watching him get off and call it a day so he could learn not to pull that shit again, but your limitation was turning into a punishment for you as well. Here in his arms, it was so easy to remember what he did to you the last time you both found yourselves in the storage room. How nice his fingers had felt inside you, the skilled work of his tongue, and you had been daydreaming about the orgasm he gave you since the minute you parted ways.

Your body was hot, and unbeknownst to Jungkook, who was trying his very best to keep his hands down, you made quick work of pulling your skirt up and pulling your drenched panties to the side. He didn’t notice something had changed until you moaned into the kiss, sending a whole new wave of need over his entire body.

Jungkook instantly pulled away and from the soft glow of the light creeping in from underneath the door, he saw your hooded eyes before turning his gaze downward and seeing what was happening between your legs. It was dark, and even though Jungkook had pretty good eyesight, it was still difficult to see the way your free hand had slipped between your legs. It was easy to hear, however. You had to be soaked…

The thought alone nearly made him rut into you until he came, but instead, he quickly tried to compose himself and groaned lightly before looking back into your eyes. Your gaze was haunting in the way he knew it would follow him despite how much he wanted it to go away. The way the light reflected off your shining eyes, the slight smile on your face as you peered into his bewildered gaze— confused, yet eager for more.

“You like what you see?” you lightly chuckled, teasing. Oh, the ache.

“I—I could help you,” he stammered, begging. He would do anything. This was a curse disguised as a blessing.

“Mmm, you’d really want that? I thought you said my existence bothered you,” you laughed breathlessly. You were pleasing yourself well; he could see it from the look on your face.

Jungkook wanted to blurt out that he didn’t mean it like that, but he couldn’t. That would be a lie. Nothing you did had ever bothered him besides the very fact that you existed. You made his life complicated, and he knew that wasn’t necessarily your fault. It was more on him than you, but—

You laughed again when he didn’t respond.

“Just sit there and be a good boy. Watching you is nice. Don’t cum until I finish,” you sighed so sweetly. The nickname was unexpected, but well-received apparently with how he suddenly discovered the newfound energy to speed up his pace. He could see the vague outline of your hand speeding up between your legs, seemingly trying to match his pace, and he wished he hadn’t turned off the lights. You looked so pretty like this, even in the dark… imagine…

Jungkook was a mess, a ferocious battle occurring in his head the longer he watched. He wanted nothing more than to be good for you. He didn’t want to disappoint you, he had to be good. But there was also a side of him that wanted to push your hand aside, help you out, and serve you in the very way he knew he should. If Yuri could see him now, she would be more than disappointed, letting you take care of yourself when that was meant to be his job. Your wish to pleasure yourself was harder not to interfere with than he could have thought.

He had already struggled before when the friction was nice, but not enough. And sitting here now, watching you and hearing your soft sighs and moans, made the ache so painful he needed to slow himself down in order to obey you. He had to be good. He couldn’t let you down too.

He just couldn’t stop himself from helping out a little, though— an occasional kiss when your whines pleaded for a little more, or moving his lips downward to lightly suck across your delicate skin. Jungkook was worried you’d stop him since he wasn't entirely following your orders, but you never did. Maybe you were too out of it to notice, or too out of it to care, or maybe you even liked his little touches. It was a little silly to think about.

It wasn’t long, though, before he started to notice some of the signs he recognized from the last time that you both were here that you were close. Your whines grew more desperate and hurried and it made him chase into you faster. He wanted to finish you off and make you make a mess all over his fingers. He wanted to ruin you.

“Y/n…” It was just your name, but it was his last-ditch attempt at asking you to let him help you. What he was met with wasn’t the rejection that he was expecting, or even something drastic like you grabbing his hand to replace your own. No, instead you pulled him into a hurried kiss. You both were chasing the euphoria of pleasure too blindly to care about remaining civil. It was messy, and Jungkook found himself enjoying the chaos of it all: tongues exploring every nook they could, teeth occasionally clashing, wet, hot need and desperation in the way you moved your mouth against his.

It wasn’t any surprise that as your whines grew more needy, so did his own desperation. He had to stop himself from speeding up and finishing too quickly. Instead, he kept his pace as steady as he could while he watched your pleasure unfold right before his eyes, the way your hand sped up and the look on your face growing more pained by the minute—

“Oh—oh—Ju—“ You didn’t get to finish your sentence, and he wished you had, but the sight of you was even better than he could have imagined. With the way your mouth fell open and your eyes fluttered closed as you worked yourself through your orgasm, Jungkook nearly came right along with you. It was honestly a miracle he didn’t. He hadn’t needed much, but it was far more than he required to have him hurtling toward the edge. It took everything in him to stop himself from giving in. He wanted to be good for you— he had to be.

As you steadily came down, Jungkook tried his best to slow himself down. He watched you, wide-eyed, waiting for your next order, thinking maybe you had changed your mind and wanted to leave.

“Okay… You can finish now,” you whispered, clearly out of breath. Jungkook’s body didn’t allow for a moment of hesitation as he immediately got back to work. Now with your permission, he felt crazed as he pulled you into another messy kiss, his body working faster than his mind so that he could hardly keep up. He pressed into you firmly, the unsteadiness of the table apparent with how it squeaked with each move he made. He was close— so, so close.

“Where? Where should I—” Jungkook hurried, realizing any moment might spell disaster. He was hoping for some type of direction from you, his mind so out of it that he couldn’t think up a reasonable solution other than to ruin his pants.

“Figure it out yourself,” you sighed, your eyes finally back on him, and Jungkook couldn’t help but whine realizing he was dealing with an even bigger emergency than he had thought only seconds ago.

For a second, he just continued as is, gliding across your thigh with no intention of stopping at any point. But finally, finally, he remembered the condom in his back pocket. Right!

Jungkook probably looked like a mess straining to reach in his back pocket while he also tried to keep his pace up and kiss you any chance he could. It was a struggle and many times he considered giving up, but finally he was able to pull it out and slam it on the table beside you.

Pants— now somehow he just needs to get his pants off…

Jungkook wanted to be good, but he was losing it. He hopped off your thigh and lifted you off the table to flip you around, your hands gripping the table firmly while your ass was pressed right where he was desperate to feel you. Jungkook had to practically tear himself away from your warmth to somehow get his belt loose, a horrendous struggle of need as he kept pressing into you, making it that much more difficult to take it off.

It was a vicious cycle of Jungkook making a little progress with his belt before the need to feel you became too great and he would consider giving up altogether, before thinking about the consequences and trying his hardest to get his belt loose and his zipper down.

Jungkook was nearing failure. He was only seconds away from giving in when finally his belt came undone and he could pull himself out, desperate to feel you. Jungkook should have pulled away so he could put the condom on, but instead he found himself pushing your skirt up and sliding between your thighs, rubbing himself along the soaked fabric of your panties, bringing himself closer to his breaking point. The condom was in his hand, ready to be opened so he could finally, finally have you, and then—

“Fuccccck!” Jungkook cried into your shoulder, tears slipping down his cheeks as his orgasm washed over him in a flush. It was humiliating and the embarrassment immediately made his cheeks burn as he steadily rocked into you, each wave washing away his problems before bringing new ones to the surface. It had happened so fast… and as nice as it felt, he couldn't help but feel ashamed that this was happening all over again.

It didn’t take long after the heat of his emotions died down to discover the mess he made on the table. The streak of light pouring in was enough to see where it glistened. Jungkook quickly turned on the lights, feeling relieved that by some miracle nothing had gotten on your clothes. It was also lucky that you happened to be in a supply closet so you had easy access to paper towels to clean things up.

Honestly, Jungkook was expecting you to leave, but you stayed and watched him try to straighten himself out while you simultaneously tried to fix yourself. You weren’t wearing bright lipstick today, so luckily it wasn’t smeared everywhere. And while things had gotten a little wild, your hair wasn’t in too bad of a condition and was relatively easy to smooth out.

Neither of you said a word, just working in silence until finally the time came for you both to leave. You gave him a slight smile before opening the door, which was more than he deserved, to be honest.

After you left, the guilt washed over him all over again. He had said he wouldn’t do this again, but—

As much as he was beating himself up about it, he knew deep down that he would eventually seek you out again.

•────•──────────•────•

“Hyung, I told you I can’t,” Jungkook groaned as he stared at his dinner, which was surely cold by now.

“All I heard was a no. You didn’t give me a legitimate reason why you couldn’t come with me,” Jimin pointed out, making Jungkook sigh for the billionth time.

Jimin had called him at an hour far too late for any type of decent conversation. Jungkook had gotten home late and had been staring despondently at Yuri’s empty chair and uneaten dinner for the last twenty minutes. His mood was down and his eyes had grown watery the longer he let his mind wander, when suddenly his phone rang.

Jimin had called to invite him to a concert that was happening in Itaewon that he was convinced Jungkook needed to go to.

“Hyung, I’m busy! Everyone’s busy right now!” It came off far more charged than he intended.

“That didn't stop you in the past! We used to have a billion things to do for work, but you’d always drag me out with you to concerts like this, saying the experience would be worth it,” Jimin reminisced.

“That was a very different time. I have a billion more responsibilities now. I don’t have time to just go out anymore,” Jungkook grumbled.

“But all you ever do is go to work and then go home. I think it would be good for you to get out of your routine and do something different for a change. I mean, when was the last time we hung out outside of the office?”

Jungkook wanted to have a rebuttal. It was on the tip of his tongue, but silence hung in the air as he tried to think about it. He couldn’t remember the last time…

“That’s because I’m busy. I’ve been trying to tell you this over and over, but you’re not listening,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, wondering why they were still having this conversation. A “no” should have been the end of it.

“I am listening. I just thought this would be something you’d want to go to. If you weren’t playing, you used any of your free time to try and be at a concert like this,” Jimin recounted.

Normally, an invitation to an indie concert was like cheese in a mouse trap for Jungkook. No matter the obstacle, Jungkook would try and go. There was even one time Jungkook had been sick in bed all week, but he had tickets to a concert where one of his favorite bands was playing. Jungkook hadn’t yet fully recovered, but he pushed through and still managed to attend. He always spoke fondly of the memory, even though his fever returned afterwards from pushing himself so hard, causing him to be bedridden for another week.

“I told you that that was a different time. I don’t understand why we need to keep going in circles around this,” Jungkook groaned once again. His patience was being tested. It was hard enough being at home alone right now and the last thing he needed was for Jimin to try and drag him out, adding more to his already full plate.

“And I told you it’s because you haven’t yet given me a legitimate reason why you can’t go,” Jimin retorted. And the cycle continued.

Jungkook had to stop himself from saying something he knew he shouldn’t, taking a couple of deep breaths before continuing.

“I don’t want to go, okay! Listen to me carefully, I. do. not. want. to. go. to. this. concert. with. you.” Jungkook made sure to articulate each word carefully. It seemed like his attempt to calm down wasn’t enough as it sounded far meaner than he wanted.

For the first time, the line was silent.

“Jungkook, I’m just trying to help you. I don’t think it’s healthy that all you ever do is go to work and go home. I thought this would be a fun thing for us to do together, a change in your routine you really might need.” Jungkook could hear the hurt in Jimin’s voice, but it didn’t quell his growing anger.

“I do not want to go! Leave me alone! We’ve been talking for forty minutes now about this stupid fucking concert after I’ve explicitly told you no several times!” Jungkook finally snapped.

“Jungkook—” Jimin tried to reply. But he had enough and hung up the phone.

Jungkook sighed and tried to return to his dinner. The call had no reason to go on for as long as it did. All Jimin had to do was take no for an answer and there would be no hard feelings. So why did he just have to keep pushing? To help? The last thing that would help him was forcing him to go somewhere he didn’t want to. Sure, in the past Jungkook would have appreciated the offer. It had normally been Jungkook dragging Jimin to concerts instead of the other way around. College-aged Jungkook would have never believed Jimin was the one who was trying to get him to go to a concert of all things.

Suddenly, in the darkness of the apartment, Jungkook found himself staring into the abyss, realizing how much he had changed. He had to change. No one was the same person they were in college. He had ten times more responsibilities than he had then. He had a wife, he was director of an entire department… he had no time for anything. College Jungkook had been a very different person and Jimin had to accept that.

But still, the longer he looked into the abyss, his eyes grew more watery. Had he really changed that much?

From his seat in the dining area he could see out into the living room where the guitar Jimin had gifted him still sat on the wall. Not once had he gotten the opportunity to play it and he didn’t think he ever would. He had more things to think about other than just himself now. He didn’t want to make Yuri unhappy. He didn’t want to make anyone unhappy. Yet why was that the only thing he seemed to do these days? Jimin was just trying to be nice. Jungkook used to love going to concerts, so of course Jimin would try to invite him. He didn’t want to be mean, so why had he been so mean to him?

His dinner became the last thing on his mind as tears quickly filled his eyes and spilled onto his cheeks. Pathetic, pathetic, you’re so pathetic.

A cry filled the silence of the apartment and Jungkook desperately wished Jimin were here with him.

•────•──────────•────•

Yuri had done it again.

Despite how much Jungkook insisted and pleaded, she went against his wishes no matter how much he asked her not to. For some reason, Yuri loved making his life difficult.

Had he truly been so horrible that a simple ask wasn’t even worth considering? That might have been it— he’d been nothing but horrible to her. Maybe she had stopped caring about anything he had to say now. He wouldn’t blame her…

But was it so wrong to ask her not to lead him on if she didn’t want to do anything further with him? Was it really that much of an unreasonable ask? Not once— but twice in one day Jungkook had found his face flushed, thinking he could finally make love to his wife properly, but then she’d abruptly pull away, degrade him for being so “needy,” then storm off, leaving Jungkook a helpless mess as he cried. Was it so bad that he just wanted a little bit of space for the time being?

Maybe it was. He was her husband so they should be close, but a little break couldn’t be too bad? Why did she always make it so hard when it didn’t need to be? One minute she was cold, wanting him as far away as possible, and the next she’d lure Jungkook to the point of relaxation, ready to love her, before ripping it away abruptly.

Jungkook had simply invited her to join him on the couch and cuddle. His intentions had been pure, but not even five minutes after she sat down, Yuri was on him not even five minutes after she sat down. He’d gone along with it, trying his best not to disappoint her, but he’d pushed too far when he pulled on the waistband of her shorts and that had been enough to set her off.

What made it worse was that he knew by now that if he hadn’t been spending his time with you, venting his frustration, that he surely would have ruined things even earlier by now. It was almost a miracle Yuri hadn’t suspected anything considering how jumpy he had been before he broke down in his office in front of you. Though it didn’t even help that much— if anything, his time with you only made him want to be with Yuri in the same way even more.

Maybe it was his guilt— or rather, the lack of guilt he felt about the affair that made him desperate to make up for it in some shape or form. He had been sneaking away with you to the storage room for some time now and not once had he ever regretted it. If anything, any time he made his way there he was excited, knowing he’d feel sweet bliss in the moment.

Once it was over though, he felt nothing. It was frightening. When he was with you it was the only time he could chase any type of feeling. He didn’t know what it was exactly, but it felt better than feeling nothing. Alone with you in the storage room, the world around him drowned out so easily. It was only for a few minutes, but it was enough.

The next day, Jungkook did the only thing he knew how to do these days and texted you. He never understood why you answered each and every time. He hoped that the first experience would have been enough to dissuade you, but at the same time he was thankful to you for being with him, even though he didn’t show it. Your relationship was complicated, sour, maybe even a little toxic considering the circumstances it was founded in.

“Why— why— why?!” Jungkook cried as quietly as he could as he held onto you. You both had gotten into another heated argument. Most of the time you would try not to talk to each other aside from Jungkook’s occasional check-ins that it was ok to proceed when he wanted more. This time though, with Yuri on his mind and emotions all over the place, Jungkook couldn’t help but spout a few words as soon as you walked in the room. It seemed he was taking all the bottled-up anger he shielded from Yuri and directing it onto you.

Basically, he’d questioned why you kept doing this to him. They were the words he wanted to say to Yuri, but he meant them all the same to you too. He was trying to be a decent husband and you were pulling him down further into the hole of irredeemability. Yuri already hated him. He wanted to make it work, he had to make it work. So many people were counting on him to be a good husband. How was he ever going to win her heart if you existed? Why, why were you doing this to him?!

As expected, you didn’t take his ranting very well. Jungkook was basically questioning the very nature of your existence and for some reason he thought that your presence was simply enough to force him into doing the wrong thing. It was outrageous, he knew that, and he hated what he said the minute the words left his mouth, but instead of apologizing and admitting he wasn’t having a good day, he doubled down. It was awful. He wanted you to leave. He wanted you to stay even more despite his harsh words. For some reason, you chose the latter. He didn’t understand why, but it didn’t take much time until he had you pinned against one of the shelves.

A flurry of anger, lust, and a need that spread faster than a wildfire. You both had hardly engaged in any foreplay before he hurriedly stuffed his cock inside of you. Immediately, he burst into tears— his building emotions overflowing and spilling from his eyes. He didn’t know whether they were angry tears or sad tears. He didn’t know why he cried all the time these days. It was so bad.

“Why are you doing this to me?!” Jungkook sobbed into your shoulder, thrusting harder as he grew close.

“Fu—fuck you,” you spat back at him.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Am I not good enough?” he questioned sadly. He didn’t need you to answer, he already knew what you would say. If Jungkook was good enough, he wouldn’t be here right now. He would be in his wife’s arms instead. He would be happy, she would be happy if he was good enough.

“Fuck you, Jungkook, fuck y—“ you cursed at him as your profanity morphed into a whine. His punishing pace never faltered.

“Shut up— please.” Not now, not when all he could picture was his wife’s disappointed face.

Jungkook switched up his pace to long, languid strokes. The tears kept spilling from his eyes. He always got extra sappy when he was close; Yuri pointed it out all the time.

“Why does she hate me so much? Why am I never good enough for her? Why—” He was upset, yet he knew he had no right to be. He was the one making her miserable. Things would be so much easier if he was just a little better.

You didn’t say anything back and he was glad you didn’t. Any judgment would have been enough to send him off the edge. Instead, you just listened silently to his saddened cries as he fucked all of his frustration into you.

Your feelings for Jungkook were complicated, but the sex was good. Very good, actually. The passion was so explosive whenever you were in a room together alone. Sometimes that passion manifested as anger, other times it was lust, and sometimes it was both, like in this case.

It was clear Jungkook was struggling, and as much as your instincts were telling you to stay far away from him, you feared what would happen if you didn’t keep coming back. Each time the sex got better despite Jungkook seeming visibly worse. He was literally having a breakdown right now and it wasn’t even the first time it had happened.

You tried your best to keep your emotions under control, not wanting to set him off in any way, but he was harsh towards you, and even harsher towards himself.

“Just want her to— why can’t— fuck— why doesn’t she want me?!”

You didn’t want to pry, but his pleas already had a picture of his wife forming in your mind.

“I— I told you— told you to please go easy on me until you’re ready, but you— you don’t want to listen to me. You never do.” His voice was hoarse and pained. These were deep, dark thoughts that he didn’t even know he had until they left his mouth. He felt sick when they did.

All you could see were the faint labels on the boxes in front of you, but for a moment you were tempted to turn around and look at him. He sounded so sad.

“Yuri— please—” he cried, holding you a little tighter.

You could only imagine he was thinking about his wife at that moment. It was a strange experience hearing another woman’s name come out of his mouth while he was inside of you. Initially, you just wanted to turn around and slap him and tell him that you were right here, but you had to remind yourself that it was his wife after all— of course that’s who he was thinking about.

“Please— please— please— oh-pl—” He was close. Really, really close.

Jungkook’s sobs morphed into pained whines the closer he grew to the end. His thrusts grew sloppier with each moan and you helped out a little by tightening yourself around him, something you had learned was a catalyst to quickly finishing him off. The first time, you were a little too eager when he put it inside of you and he probably didn't even last a minute longer after that. And just like back then, the moment you squeezed around him he was practically putty in your hands.

After a couple of more thrusts, he stilled inside you completely before pumping the condom full of his cum. He had nearly forgotten to put it on earlier— the heat of the moment making him act a little too hastily. His grip on your waist tightened, and for a moment it sounded like he had stopped crying. For a second, you wanted to believe that you had given him a little relief from whatever hell he seemed to be going through.

Jungkook didn’t move for a while. Instead, he stayed close, thrusting lightly as he sobbed into your shoulder, mumbling things you couldn’t even make out anymore. You didn’t stop him, nor did you say anything. You just let him cry.

Things seemed to be particularly bad today. You had tried your best to piece it all together from the random words he slipped out. You knew it had to do with Yuri and something that she had done to him, but he never got more specific than that. Seeing how poorly he was reacting, you could only imagine how terrible it was.

He was shaking. You could feel the trembling of the hand he had on your waist, and even though he’d grown quiet, you could feel your blouse dampening with each second that passed.

You felt the urge to ask him if he was ok again, even though you already knew the answer. You were about to ask, when suddenly Jungkook pulled away. You hadn’t been prepared for the coolness of the room without his warmth.

You vaguely saw his silhouette move around in the darkness. You figured he was throwing away the condom, but then you watched him go over to the same table he’d often taken you on to grab the box of tissues you had pulled out of storage. You heard him blow his nose before you faintly saw him wipe his eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

“I’m sorry— sorry— I— ummm…” Jungkook took a deep breath, his voice wavering a little too much, nearly cracking in the process. “You can hop up on the table.”

You tried not to look too shocked despite the fact that he probably couldn’t see you anyway. You honestly hadn’t expected him to still be in the mood for that today, seeing how upset he was. But no matter how heated the moments could get between you two, Jungkook was always nice enough to help you out afterward in more desperate times like this when you didn’t finish along with him.

“You sure? You don’t really seem like you’re doing ok,” you asked hesitantly, walking over to him.

“Yeah, I want to be useful for something.” He almost sounded like he was about to burst into tears again.

“We don’t have to if you don’t—”

“I do— I want to… please—” He didn’t even let you finish before he grabbed your hand and pulled you close. You had the consuming urge to pull him into a hug or kiss his cheeks to make him feel better, or at least get a smile out of him. You resisted though, and jumped up on the table before letting your heels fall to the floor. You had nearly stabbed him in the back one time, so now you always made it a point to take them off whenever you were in this position.

You watched with curious eyes as he dropped to his knees right in front of you. You could still see the shininess in his eyes as he looked up at you. What could he have possibly done to make Yuri so upset? You had every reason to be upset at him, yet you still couldn’t find it in you to hold onto any ill feelings or hatred. Things were just complicated at the moment.

Jungkook proceeded to be sweet to you like he always was, leaving soft gentle kisses across your skin before you had to grip onto his hair as he sent you to another dimension once again.

•────•──────────•────•

“Y/n, what’s been going on between you and Director Jeon?” Solmi asked you out of the blue one day, causing you to nearly choke on your rice.

You had only just arrived at the table to join her and Taehyung for a late lunch. They were both nearly finished already, but lucky for you, you had brought the leftovers you wanted to finish off for lunch today. By the time you made it to the cafeteria, the lunch line had already closed.

You told them you had been with Jungkook, which wasn’t technically a lie. They thought he had held you up because of a meeting you had mentioned in which Jungkook had emailed you wanting to meet up to discuss budget planning, specifically to get your input about salaries for the department. That had not been a lie either.

Jungkook and you had met earlier for actual work purposes to go over some important information. Director Son was out of the office for a big meeting over at another company— so you’d stepped in to fill his place. It was just that although you both had finished shortly before lunch, a lot of tension had started to build between you over the course of your meeting. No arguments were had, but anytime you’d get deep into the numbers, he would stare at you with this strange look in his eyes.You had no idea why, as you were just discussing business, but you were so used to that look by now that you knew what it meant he wanted.

You were just about to leave when you felt his hand close around your wrist. You turned and looked behind you and caught his sparkling eyes peering into yours as he so quietly and shyly asked if he could have just a little more of your time.

That’s how you both ended up sneaking away to the storage room as the time ticked away into your lunch break. You had both tried to be quick— Jungkook insisting he would work fast, but that didn’t deter him from giving you two orgasms with his tongue before sending you into a third with his cock. You were still buzzing, your knees a little weak, as you hurried downstairs to meet your friends who were waiting for you.

You tried to keep calm at her question. “Wha-What do you mean?” You nearly choked as you tried to stuff kimchi in your mouth so you didn’t have to answer.

“We used to be down here at least once a week hearing you rant about how awful Jeon Jungkook was,” she said, imitating your voice during the last part. “But then it stopped and you guys seem closer now. Do you not hate him anymore?” she asked bluntly. Solmi had always been that way.

“Uhhh—” you stumbled, at a loss for words. “We’re not that close, really. My new position just requires us to work together more often. Do I still hate him? It’s umm— it’s complicated.” Technically another honest answer— that wasn’t a simple question anymore.

“Complicated?” Taehyung repeated, his cheeks full of rice.

“Yeah. It was easier to hate him when he was just a mysterious figure that I hardly ever saw in person, but now… since we’ve started working a little more closely together and we’ve had some time one-on-one… I don’t know how to describe it other than it’s complicated. He’s a weird dude, and I will never forgive him for all the work he’s assigned me over the years, but… he’s also a busy guy and seems like he has a lot on his plate. He’s not so bad when you get to know him a little more personally. Again, it’s just complicated,” you sighed as you played with your food. Again, you hadn’t lied. Despite everything, you just couldn’t really hate the guy anymore, but that didn’t stop you from thinking he could be a major dick sometimes.

“Really?” Solmi inquired after your long winded answer.

You nodded steadily.

“Does this mean you’re not president of the Jungkook hate club anymore?” she followed up quickly, and Taehyung joined her in her laughter. You found it a little funny too.

“I think it’s time I retire. I’m sure there’s someone who hates him more than me now,” you smiled, but for a second, Jungkook’s words echoed in your head as you thought about his wife.

“Wahhh, I never thought I’d see the day you retire from something,” Taehyung said seriously, looking over at Solmi.

You playfully rolled your eyes, knowing full well what he was referring to. On one of the dates you went on, you told him you never thought you’d ever retire, your ambition making it too difficult for you to settle down.

“If you don’t hate him anymore, then I won’t feel bad bringing up the fact I think his eyes are really pretty,” Solmi said so quickly, you nearly didn’t catch it.

You gasped at her words before you rolled your eyes again. You couldn’t even say anything back. You thought they were pretty too. Deep down, you knew you always had for some reason.

•────•──────────•────•

You needed a car. That had become apparent long before you started working at Golden Tech, but it was only recently that it had started to become detrimental to your career.

Your new position had you moving around the city a lot more often than your last one did. It wasn’t too uncommon for you to need to join Director Son in meetings with other companies, or venture out on your own to get across town. The amount of times you’ve had to deal with the challenges of relying on public transportation to get to meetings was insane.

You finally decided enough was enough the first time you accompanied Director Son to a meeting and he offered to let you ride in the car with him. In comparison to the bus or subway, it was practically night and day, finally confirming how much easier it would be to just suck it up and get your own car. There was no stress of needing to run to the bus stop so you could make it back to work on time. Aside from the slight traffic you ran into, it was much smoother sailing compared to the times you’d gone on your own.

Funnily enough, aside from the fact that cars and gas were expensive, you had only gotten your license just last year. Taehyung had actually been the one to teach you after you confessed to him late one late night about feeling a little insecure that you were in your mid-20s and you didn’t know how to drive. Your ambitious nature had gotten you a job at Golden Tech and the Associate Director position all within the span of just two years, but it was also what prevented you from doing certain things, like getting your license. You were always too busy with school to take the time to learn. Plus, you had moved away from home for college and going back home to Busan for driving lessons from your family during your busy schedule was impossible— or well, it just wasn’t going to happen.

Taehyung had been kind enough to meet up on your free weekends to teach you. Once you finally passed your test, you met up with Tae to celebrate, and that’s when your friendship got complicated. He kissed you, you kissed him back, he asked you out, and suddenly you were in a “secret” relationship and going on dates as often as you could.

But that had been over a year ago now. You had your license, but never got a car because you never found the time to start that process. Plus, you were making do with public transportation so you found no need for the extra expense. But ever since Director Son drove you to that meeting, you’d been considering it. Your income was sufficient now and you finally felt like you were ready to become a car owner. You hoped it would be a nice Christmas or New Year's gift to yourself for the great year you had had. Right now, though, you were just in the research stage and still dealing with the struggles of public transportation.

This was all to say that when Jungkook told you about a meeting he needed you and Director Son to attend with him, you ran into an issue. You somehow let it slip that it would be a little difficult to make it there in time since rush hour would be occurring at the time. The subway wasn’t a good option since it could get so crowded, making it impossible to get out of the station, and the closest bus stop to the company was ten minutes away, which with traffic meant you’d end up running minutes late. You’d already tried that route before and had had to call the company on a crowded subway to tell them that you were going to be late.

And that was how Jeon Jungkook offered to give you a ride.

“I’ll drive you. We’re going to the same place anyway. It'll be fine.” His words were nice, yet he had a bit of an attitude. You weren’t fighting, but this was just how things always were between you two.

It was easy to guess why you were hesitant. Being alone in a car with Jeon Jungkook wasn’t something you really wanted to do. So much so, that you actually told him you’d ask Taehyung to give you a ride first before agreeing to his proposition. You had thought you were doing him a favor by saving him from the awkwardness of the ride, but for some reason his attitude changed completely as soon as you mentioned that.

You honestly had no idea what had happened, but suddenly he was insisting it would be no trouble. He emphasized that you were going to the same place and that it would be too much unnecessary work for Taehyung since he wasn’t going to the meeting. Somehow, Jungkook convinced you to feel guilty about asking Taehyung, and that was exactly why you ended up walking down to the garage with him on the day of the meeting.

You were both silent as you walked. It had been that way since you left his office earlier. It felt like that day all over again. And just like that day, you were greeted with Jungkook’s fancy ass Mercedes.

Now that you had been doing a little research into cars, as you got in, you were in for another reality check on how rich he was. Not only did he own a Mercedes, but you knew some of the features you saw were crazy expensive to add on— you know, you had checked after liking Jungkook’s car so much.

You couldn’t deny how sexy the car looked with its sleek black interior and the pretty lights that added a subtle ambiance, a little color to cut through all the blackness. It was hot, and you had to stop yourself from fawning as you looked around at the lavishness of it all.

Not in front of him.

But once again, just like last time, your eyes couldn’t help but to drift over to him as Jungkook started up the vehicle. He had one hand on the wheel as he pulled out, his pretty hair sitting right at his shoulders, the waves making him look ethereal. It was ridiculous how someone this good looking could even exist.

As enthralled as you were by his beauty, the serious expression he wore concerned you and made you worried he was annoyed with having you there. It didn't make any sense since he was the one who insisted on you driving with him. You had tried to save yourselves the trouble by at least wanting to ask Taehyung if he was free, but noooo, he wanted to make things complicated.

Instead of dwelling on it too much, you just turned your attention out the window to admire the sights and to stop thinking about Jungkook.

You had thought it would be a relatively short drive, even though the company you both were headed to was on the opposite side of the city. Director Son had actually gotten there earlier in the day, having a meeting on his own before the one you and Jungkook would join started. If he hadn’t had to arrive early, you probably would have asked him for a ride instead.

You really hadn’t expected the ride to take that long, but once again, you were reminded that rush hour didn’t just apply to public transportation. The traffic was almost immediate as you pulled out of the garage. Luckily for you, Jungkook had insisted on leaving early, probably having better foresight and expecting the traffic, but even you could tell that traffic was particularly bad.

You wondered if it was normal, but as you looked over at Jungkook, you saw his face grow more disgruntled each minute you only moved up a little bit. Of course it was just your luck that for some reason, traffic was especially bad today.

To make the ride even more uncomfortable, the mood in the car was tense. Jungkook seemed to have some type of problem. He hadn’t said anything to you yet, but you were terrified that at any moment he would be back to playing the blame game. Maybe he wanted to bring you along just to torment you? Maybe you should have just lied and said Taehyung had already agreed to drive you? Anything to take back getting in this fucking car.

In a desperate attempt to keep the car ride civil, you asked Jungkook if you could turn on the radio. You were a little surprised he agreed and even told you where to go on the touch screen. As the poppy chorus of the latest idol songs filled the car, it made things a little less awkward. You were focused on trying to stop yourself from singing along and keeping Jungkook out of sight, out of mind. As long as you kept your attention focused out the window, all would be fine. Before you knew it, you’d be at the company and you’d be free from this claustrophobic hell.

But then it was your fault that you made the horrible mistake of turning your head too much, letting you see Jungkook’s displeased expression out of the corner of your eye, his eyes burning a hole into the car in front of you.

Was it the traffic that had him so pissed? You knew being the driver would make the situation even more annoying. Hopefully it wasn’t you, or else you really would have to jump out of the car to avoid his bitching when you had a meeting to worry about.

You didn’t know what came over you. Maybe you were willing to do anything to save the car ride from turning into a fight, so you let your body act first before your mind could catch up to stop you. All of a sudden, you rested your hand on his thigh. You felt your cheeks warm up as you watched Jungkook look down at it, and then over at you.

You wondered if he was going to say something. He looked like he was about to, but ultimately he never did. Instead, he turned his attention to fixate back on the car in front of you.

You honestly had no idea where you were going with this. You had initially acted without thinking, but as time passed, you subtly started to run your hand up and down his thigh to try and calm him down. It wasn’t anything too crazy, but it was enough to make Jungkook look down and then over at you again.

“I can stop if you want me to.” You finally looked over to meet his eyes. You both knew where it would go if you continued, so you thought it best to ask him if he was comfortable. You didn’t know how you had gotten yourself here, you kept telling yourself, ignoring the way you had been daydreaming about how good he looked driving.

Jungkook looked at you for a moment and you were keen to notice the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened each time your hand moved a little higher up his thigh, and the subtle way he bit his lip the longer he stared. You hated to admit it was a little hot.

“You’re fine— you can keep going,” he nervously coughed as he turned back to the road.

He was embarrassed, still not quite used to how starkly different things were with you than with Yuri. She would never do something like this for him, let alone let him rest his hand on her thigh. He had tried once, one of the few times she had ridden in his car. He got the idea after watching a movie where the guy did it with his girlfriend. Jungkook’s cheeks flushed and he got butterflies anytime there’d be a scene of them in the car, causing him to bury himself in the blanket he’d wrapped himself with. He figured he would try it out with Yuri one day, but it didn’t go well… nothing he ever did went well.

He was still getting used to how often you two were meeting up in the storage room. He’d only bought a small box of condoms, figuring just like with Yuri, anything more would be a waste. But weirdly enough, he was already needing to plan his next trip to the store when he realized you were nearing the end of the box. Jungkook would have been shocked if you hadn’t let him have you with less than a week in between, but you never once turned down his shameless begging, even after only a day. He could hardly keep up and he still felt guilty anytime he’d ask you.

When he invited you to drive with him, he definitely wasn’t prepared for you to flip things around. His intentions hadn’t been impure whatsoever, he truly thought it made more sense then you needing to run off with Taehyung, right? Why should you ask Taehyung when you both were going to the same place and he had room in his car? It didn’t make any sense for you to go with Taehyung— unless, well, unless you had wanted a chance to be alone with him because you—

His mind had been racing with that thought when suddenly, he felt your hand on his thigh. It instantly took him out of his spiral, and when you started moving— Jungkook had to press his index finger between his lips to stop himself from moaning out. You started off with subtle movements, but when you noticed the way he shifted slightly to meet your hand anytime you moved up his thigh, you stopped. Your hand stayed right where his pants continued to grow tighter.

Jungkook was far too weak and sensitive to stay calm. The frustrations from this ridiculous traffic, the stress of making it to the meeting on time, and your hand on his thigh made the frustration so intense he needed to seek you out for refuge like he always seemed to do these days.

He was hard before you even made it to the next stoplight.

His face was warm, embarrassed because he wasn’t sure if this is what you had intended when you started, but surely you had realized the effect of your hand by now.

He was so pathetic. He wasn’t even entirely sure whether or not he wanted to start crying or pleading for more.

More, he wanted more. As you both sat in traffic, his mind was wandering off to imaging so many things he wanted to do. He wanted to ask for you to touch him more. He could undo his belt and zipper, and oh— he also wanted to feel you. He wanted to feel your mouth again— it had been a while since that day in his office. The very thought was enough to get him flushed in the face as it grew more and more difficult to focus.

Every time his eyes glanced down and he’d see what you were doing, it just got worse. Part of him was absolutely terrified that someone could see what was happening if they happened to look through the window, but the other half didn’t care and wanted you to finish what you had started.

It got especially bad when you finally seemed to notice the problem you had made, your fingers tracing over the very obvious outline in his slacks. He felt tears well up in his eyes. You hadn’t been doing enough to make him cum, but he almost wished you had been because the teasing was unbearable. He was tempted to say fuck it, and plead for you to touch him the proper way so he could feel your soft hands all over his skin, and maybe—

Jungkook had to quickly slam the brakes, realizing he had spaced out so much that he didn’t realize the car in front of him had stopped already. You both lurched forward, only slightly, but enough for his embarrassment to get even worse.

“So-sorry!” he quickly apologized, his face somehow growing even hotter.

“It’s fine. Did you need me to stop?” you asked, a bit of concern in your voice.

Jungkook thought about it, and as much as he knew you should, he couldn’t find it in himself to actually wish you would. He had no shame. Jungkook shook his head no, not having enough confidence to tell you honestly that he loved the feeling of your hand and that the thought of stopping now made him want to scream.

He heard you chuckle slightly. “Just make sure to keep your eyes on the road, okay?”

Right. If he was already this much of a mess from you touching him over his clothes, going further might cause you to actually crash. He kept reminding himself that, but the longer you both sat in traffic, the harder it grew not to beg you to finish him off. You wound him up so easily—

Luckily for him, right as things got to the point where he was seriously about to beg you to touch him more, you finally came to the area that had apparently caused the traffic jam. You were right— it was an accident. Nothing too disastrous, it just seemed like a pretty bad fender bender. Police officers had been steadily directing traffic while officials were trying to clear the scene. The minute after you made it past them, it was smooth sailing.

It didn’t take too long afterward for you both to finally pull up to the company— apparently, they were one of the suppliers for Golden Tech. You, Jungkook, and Director Son had come to discuss terms for their services for next year.

Jungkook pulled up to the gate that led into the garage where a security guard stopped you. You quickly removed your hand from Jungkook’s thigh, and for a second, he reached for you to put it back again.

You pointed at the security guard. Right.

Jungkook rolled down the window.

“Oh! I thought it was you! Good afternoon, Director Jeon!” the security guard smiled and bowed.

“Hi!” Jungkook tried to smile back, but all he was thinking about was your hand.

“Dae-Jung isn’t driving you today? I almost didn’t recognize you,” he laughed, looking past Jungkook and peering at you in the passenger seat.

“No— I’m working late today, so I’m driving myself.” It was true. He was staying late today to meet all the deadlines he needed to. But he also knew you would be joining him today. Maybe there had been some part of him that knew things would get heated, maybe some part that had hoped they would.

“I see. We were told to expect you for a meeting. Would you like for us to send someone down to park your car?” The security guard was very animated, in a good way. His energy was infectious and he seemed really sweet. If things were different, Jungkook might have taken him up on his offer considering how long you both were stuck in traffic. He could only imagine the meeting was probably about to start.

“There’s no need. I can do it myself. Thank you for the offer though.” Jungkook tried to maintain a smile to appear not too rude, but he needed you.

“Alright, just find someplace to park. A team member will be at the entrance to escort you to the meeting room.” And with that, the security guard went inside the little building to lift the arm up and allow you to drive through.

You were honestly a little confused why Jungkook didn’t take him up on the offer considering the time. Maybe he hadn’t noticed? Luckily, when you made it in, there just so happened to be a spot available close to the door right at the entrance.

Once he parked, you were ready to jump out and start running when you suddenly felt a hand on yours. You turned to see Jungkook’s shiny eyes looking at you. Right, you almost forgot…

“We still have fifteen minutes left— I would just need like, two minutes— but, uh, you don’t have to— we, um—” Jungkook was beyond flustered, having to ask. You really should run so you could meet Director Son before the meeting started, but there was no way he’d be able to go up there and face all those people feeling like this.

You sighed. This was technically your fault. “You don’t think there would be any time to sneak off once we make it inside?” you asked, wondering if maybe you and Jungkook could find a bathroom before the meeting started… maybe? Then again, that didn't sound very smart.

Jungkook shook his head.

Instead of contemplating it anymore, you just decided to roll with it. “Alright, get your belt off, let’s make this quick,” you sighed as you shifted to get in a better position.

Jungkook didn’t need to be told twice as you watched him frantically tug off his belt and undo his zipper before looking back up at you with pleading eyes. Huh? He could have at least taken himself out first. But you didn’t say anything, not really having time to fight him, so you reached over the console and did the job yourself.

At first, you were just going through the motions, trying your best to be quick about this. You weren’t even thinking about it too much until you felt his precum leak onto your palm. Oh?

“That really worked you up, huh?” You were honestly a little baffled, truly amazed at how sensitive he was. You knew you had been teasing him, but you didn’t expect him to get this turned on by just your hand on his thigh.

“Please…” he moaned, his voice wavering slightly, making you look up and see how flushed he was. This was serious, even more than you originally had thought.

You watched him carefully as you steadily began pumping his length, occasionally running your finger across the tip. The way his eyebrows furrowed when you seemed to hit a sensitive spot, the way he bit his lip, and the cute way he didn’t know what to do with his hands so he was just clutching anything within range… These little details had been lost in the darkness of the storage room before.

You began slowly and would have kept things going like that for a bit longer, but you both had places to be and not much time left. You quickly took your hand back, spit in it to give you some extra glide, and got back to work, hoping it would make things happen quicker.

“Oh— oh! Oh…” Jungkook groaned, letting his head fall back. You could tell he was trying to hold back, but he was a little louder than what he usually was in the storage room. You hated to admit it, but his moans were really just as pretty as he was. You tried your best to stay focused on the task at hand and ignore the way your panties were dampening by the second. You had a meeting to go to…

You distracted yourself by keeping your eyes on the time and making sure your technique was supreme so it would go as fast as possible— twisting your wrist with each upward stroke, making sure to prioritize the tip, the little things. And just like Jungkook promised, it was only a few seconds after the clock ticked for a second time that things got serious.

“Close!” he hurried out.

Alright— you were making ok time. Maybe thirty more—

“Wait— ughh, wait! Where do I…?” Jungkook hurried out quickly. It just dawned on you again exactly where you were.

“Umm, do you have condoms with you?” you questioned, but Jungkook quickly shook his head. He had tears in his eyes. He honestly thought this was going to be it, that you were just going to stop and tell him to suck it up and get over it. That’s what Yuri would have done.

“Ok, we only have one option then. Hurry up and move your seat back a little.” Jungkook was confused, but followed your words anyway since there was no time to question it. As soon as he moved back, you maneuvered yourself to lean over the console and came face-to-face with his length, grasping it between your fingers.

“What are you— oh, oh fuck…” Jungkook whined as you took him into your mouth. You tried to be gentle so you wouldn’t ruin your makeup, but you planned to make this quick. Luckily for you, with Jungkook being as sensitive and as close to the edge as he was, that wouldn’t be a very difficult task to accomplish.

You were only able to get a couple strokes in before his hand quickly flew up to gently hold your head down— he was always so gentle— and you felt him cum down your throat. His noises turned into a mess of expletives, whines, and pretty, pretty moans as you steadily helped him through it. He came fast, hard, and was shaking slightly by the time you pulled off of him.

That was…

He probably looked like a mess. His hands had been running through his hair again. He had tried so hard to make it look nice, you’d even helped him out a little earlier when he complained that he didn’t know what to do with it after he’d messed with it all morning. You had been so soft in the way you concentrated on moving all his curls in the right place. Jungkook’s face had burned and his heart nearly raced out of his chest.

“You ok?” you eventually asked when you noticed he seemed kind of dazed.

That finally brought him back, realizing the time was still ticking. “Yeah s-sorry!” Jungkook stumbled, grabbing the things he needed.

“Don’t apologize… 9 minutes…” You looked over at the clock, but then hurriedly brought out your phone to look in the camera and fix whatever had gotten out of place from your activities. Luckily, it wasn’t too bad. Just a quick reapplication of your lipstick and fixing your hair up a bit and you’d pretty much be good.

“Thank you by the way…” Jungkook said so softly. His face was a little red, you noticed. It was one of the few moments you had these days when the tension dissipated and you were reminded of the shy boy who started blushing if you looked at him for too long.

“It was my fault—” You stared intently at your camera as you reapplied your lipstick. “It wasn’t fair to just leave you hanging like that,” you said plainly.

As soon as you were both done, you hurriedly got out, but then you quickly stopped him from heading to the door. “Let me just—”

Jungkook watched with wide eyes and a warm face as you worked to fix his hair once again. It wasn’t much, you really didn’t have the time to be standing here, yet you still…

“Alright, that’s all I can do— it looked so good before we left. But, huh, somehow you still look great— the messy look suits you,” you say nonchalantly as you continue speed walking. Jungkook had to hurry to catch up to you, dazed from the compliment, your intoxicating sweet scent, and the look in your eyes.

Oh…

Part of him was tempted to say something, but he was too flustered for anything reasonable to come out.

“By the way, Jungkook, do you have any car recommendations?” you asked randomly as you both started to pick up the pace. You didn’t even need to turn behind you to feel Jungkook’s confused gaze.

“You seem like you have a good taste in cars and I was looking for— you know what, nevermind, we only have five minutes. We’ll finish this conversation later, just run!” You grab onto his hand and despite being in heels, you begin to book it. If only you could see the flushed look on Jungkook’s face as he trailed behind you.

This wasn’t a situation you were unfamiliar with. There had been multiple meetings where you’d had to runfrom the subway station or bus stop to make it in somewhat reasonable time. How ironic was it? You thought going by car would be much quicker, but somehow you found yourself in the same situation all over again. Seriously, just your luck.

“I’ll take care of you when we get back!” Jungkook called out from behind you. You didn’t turn around to reveal the smile on your face to him. Of course, he always needed to keep things even. Instead of responding, you just ran a little faster.

You were going to be late at this point!

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