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#then I have to go to the new client on Thursday
sleepymaddy · 1 year
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hamsterclaw · 5 months
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You end up being responsible for Jeon Jungkook, who's impulsive, annoying and in the habit of breaking the law. Unfortunately for you, he's also funny and sexy as fuck. There's no way this can end well, can it?
Pairing: Jungkook x f!reader
Genre: Crack, smut, rookie lawyer reader and criminal JK
Rating: 18+
Word count: 11k
Warnings: Sex, swearing, criminal activity, smoking
Present day
‘Who,’ breathes Gracie, your new client, ‘the fuck is that?’
You look in the direction she’s facing, and die inside, as the black custom Skyline glides to a smooth stop on the road, in front of you.
‘Uh, so I’ll call when I hear back about the patents,’ you say hurriedly, before….
Too late. 
The passenger door opens, and you hear Gracie gasp audibly as she sees the man in the driver’s seat.
His wavy dark hair almost covers his eyes. He rakes his tattooed hand through his hair casually, his silver piercings gleaming in the light from the streetlamps above you.
You get in before he can say anything, shutting the door firmly behind you. 
‘Just drive,’ you say, through gritted teeth.
‘Seatbelt,’ he reminds you, but he’s already pulling away from the curb.
You buckle up and stare out the window so you don’t have to look at his ridiculously pretty face.
‘Nice skirt,’ he says.
‘Don’t talk to me,’ you snap.
‘Fine,’ he says, just to annoy you.
He flicks the music on, and the interior of the car fills with the pulsing synth of the early 90s house that he’s been into lately.
He’s a good driver, you’ll give him that.
By the time he pulls into the underground car park of your building, your head is pounding from the loud music he’s played the entire journey home.
You know from experience that if you complain he’ll just turn it up louder.
‘Did you get into anything when I was with my client?’ you ask, because you have to.
The lying asshole has the audacity to give you an innocent look. It’s surprisingly effective, he was born with the wide eyes and pouty lips required to pull it off.
You remind yourself again that Jeon Jungkook is not to be trusted.
You raise an eyebrow, and wait.
Finally, he says, ‘Nothing.’
You harden your stare.
‘Nothing,’ he insists. 
He kills the engine and you both exit the car and head for the lifts.
He lives in the apartment next to yours, and the only reason a rich asshole like him is in your building is because his rich parents have paid for him to stay next to you, as his appointed guardian.
It’s an unconventional arrangement which he’d only agreed to because the alternative was jail time. 
You’d only agreed to it because his mother is your boss at the law firm you work at, and it’s not just that you need the job, but you’re also one step away from becoming an associate.
Jungkook holds the lift door open with a booted foot.
‘After you,’ he says.
‘The doors are automatic, you don’t have to hold them open,’ you point out.
You know he knows this.
Anyone who’s ever been in a lift knows it.
Jungkook admires himself in the lift mirrors. You look away, but not before he catches you looking at him.
‘Like what you see?’ he asks, voice velvety.
‘No,’ you say flatly, turning away.
He snickers softly but says nothing else.
You reach your floor and sigh with relief. 
Finally. 
It’s been a long day, and you can’t wait to go home and recharge in the solitude of your apartment.
You can already feel yourself sinking into the plushness of your new sofa after a hot shower. It’s Thursday, too, so there’s a new episode of your favourite drama being released today, and there’s leftovers in the fridge….
Jeon Jungkook’s annoying voice interrupts your daydream.
‘I have to go out again tonight,’ he tells you.
One stipulation his parents made to your unusual arrangement is that you have to accompany him whenever he leaves the apartment after dark.
‘Why?’ you ask, letting your irritation show in your tone.
‘I said I’d meet some guys,’ he says. He holds his hands up as you glare at him. ‘It’s for business.’
You’ve reached your door. You think longingly of your sofa and your drama, and stifle a sigh.
‘I just need a shower and to eat before we go,’ you say, resigned.
‘Fine. I’ll knock in an hour, ok?’ he says.
You don’t bother to respond.
By the time he knocks at your door, you’re out of your work clothes and in sweats and a hoodie.
At his surprised look you raise your eyebrows at him. 
‘Am I underdressed for your business meeting?’ you ask, like you care.
He rolls his eyes. ‘I just thought you only wore business pantsuits,’ he replies, smiling sweetly at you.
Your stomach growls. You’d spent too long in the shower and hadn’t had a chance to eat. It’d been worth it.
You ignore it and lock your apartment door.
‘I’m ready.’
Jungkook whistles the tune from a newish pop song as you head for the lifts.
He’s annoyingly melodic, and now the infectious tune’s in your head.
You focus on not humming along as you follow him to his car and get in the passenger seat.
‘Seatbelt,’ he says, and you roll your eyes.
‘Yes, mum.’ 
‘You look and act like you’re 14,’ Jungkook retorts, navigating out the car park.
‘Where are we going?’ you ask, looking out the window, ignoring his comment.
‘Verve,’ he replies, casual.
You sit up. ‘What?’
Verve is the newest, hottest restaurant in town. It opened a month ago, and it’s still impossible to get a table.
‘I can’t go there dressed like this!’
Jungkook shrugs. ‘No one asked you to get into your PJs.’
You’re livid. ‘You should have told me.’
Jungkook shrugs again. ‘You didn’t ask specifically.’
You have to sit on your hands to stop yourself from punching his smug, pretty face. You catch sight of yourself in the rearview mirror and whip the towelling headband you use when you wash your face off your head.
You seethe silently in the passenger seat until Jungkook turns to you. 
‘Stop breathing so angrily.’
‘I’m sorry my essential functions are expressing unacceptable emotions to you,’ you gripe. 
‘That’s not normal breathing,’ Jungkook argues.
There’s a few beats of silence, then Jungkook prods your side. 
‘Don’t hold your breath either.’
You suck in an irritated breath and try to moderate your tone. ‘In the future I’d appreciate some notice if we’re going anywhere with a dress code,’ you tell Jungkook.
‘Fine,’ Jungkook agrees. ‘I like short skirts, if I may express a preference.’
‘You. May. Not.’ You say, clipped.
He just laughs to himself as he reverses effortlessly into a slot on the street outside the restaurant.
‘These guys,’ he starts, then breaks off. ‘Are you wearing a bra?’
You cross your arms across your chest defensively. ‘Shut up.’
‘Your tits look great,’ Jungkook says. 
‘Shut up!’
Jungkook opens the door to Verve, and you wait nervously next to him.
You can feel eyes on you, as soft and snuggly as your hoodie and sweats are, they make you stand out in all the wrong ways in this place full of people in discreet labels.
You shuffle self-consciously as the host arrives and gives you a none-too-subtle once-over.
He opens his mouth, and Jungkook says, ‘We have a reservation at eight, Frederic said he’d block out the terrace for us.’
The whole demeanour of the host changes at Jungkook’s words. 
‘Of course. You must be Mr Jeon.’ 
You find yourself being ushered through the restaurant and up a back staircase to a huge terrace with heat lamps, a glass ceiling and Koi pond in the centre of the terrace. 
‘What the fuck,’ you mutter. 
Jungkook gives you his greasiest smile, and you glower at him in response.
The two men he’s here to meet are dressed like mafia consiglieres, and they, like the host, look at you doubtfully as you approach with Jungkook.
‘My lawyer,’ Jungkook says, not bothering to introduce you by name or with any accuracy.
You’re a lawyer, but not his lawyer, and you’re glad for it because you have no obligation to keep any of his assholery confidential.
The mafia guys eye you with renewed respect, and you keep quiet.
‘Before we start, can we order? My lawyer here skipped dinner,’ Jungkook says.
You’re so surprised at his thoughtful gesture you stare at him. 
He ignores you, already looking through the tablet one of the men has handed him. 
***
The buzzing of your phone is insistent and pervasive, pulling you further and further out of the warm cocoon of the best sleep you’ve had in a while.
You’re floating on clouds, weightless and boneless and warm and in the distance you can see an angel, smiling at you. He’s got dark hair, a physique sculpted by Italian masters, and a tattoo sleeve…
What the fuck!
You bolt upright and your phone falls off your pillow, clattering onto the floor.
You pick it up and accidentally answer, only to be greeted by the grinning ass face of one Jeon Jungkook.
It’s a video call, which means…. 
He can see you!
With a horrified yelp you toss the phone onto your bed.
‘I’ve already seen everything,’ he assures you, muffled on account of your phone being face down in your sheets. ‘Now you’re awake, can I come over?’
‘What do you want, Jeon Jungkook?’ you snap, pulling your covers up to your neck.
‘I want your opinion on something,’ he says.
‘What’s the magic word?’ you ask. 
‘I’ll tell my mum you’re associate material….’
‘Please, don’t act like I don’t deserve that position off my own back,’ you reply, bored. 
‘I’ll let you watch me work out shirtless at the gym,’ he offers.
‘Like you’re going to be able to resist posting a gym selfie later,’ you scoff. 
‘Please,’ he says. 
You sigh. ‘Fine. Give me five minutes to brush my teeth.’
‘Don’t feel you need to put anything on, over that silky pink thing you’re wearing,’ Jungkook tells you.
You hang up without taking the bait.
When he knocks at your door, you give him an assessing look. 
‘Does helping you involve anything illegal?’ you ask.
‘I have a date. You’re a woman,’ Jungkook says, adding ‘almost’ under his breath. 
You scowl at him. ‘Go on, keep insulting me, that’ll make me want to help you more.’
He holds out a mug. ‘I made you coffee.’
You look suspiciously at it. ‘Did you roofie this?’
Jungkook scoffs. ‘Please why wouldn’t I want you to remember the best sexual experience you’ll ever have.’
‘Get out of my apartment.’
‘No, please,’ he pleads, holding up his hands in surrender. ‘I need your advice on which set to wear.’
You realise he’s also holding a garment bag.
‘Fine,’ you say, waving a hand.
You sip your coffee. It’s surprisingly good, but you nearly choke on it when Jungkook slips his shirt over his head and starts unbuttoning his jeans.
‘Wait!’ you shriek. ‘What are you doing?’
He looks down at his beautiful naked torso, feigning confusion. You know he’s faking because of the smug smirk on his face.
‘I need to try them on so you know what they look like on me,’ he says, innocent.
‘There are two bedrooms in this apartment,’ you say, stern. ‘Use one of them to change. Do not come out until you are fully dressed.’
Jungkook pouts but still flexes a little as he struts past you. You pretend not to notice how his back muscles taper into his slender waist.
As he gets changed, you consider what you might want for breakfast. It’s Saturday, so the brunch place down the corner opens earlier. 
Shit! Saturday?
Jungkook mistakes the expression on your face as a reaction to his outfit rather than your own internal screaming.
‘Shit. I knew it. Too much?’ he asks, turning around so you can see how the rips running up the backs of his legs in the jeans he’s wearing go all the way up to the edges of his boxer briefs.
‘No, you look like a sexy whore,’ you say absently, scrolling your calendar.
You look up to see him frowning at you.
‘And yet, you’re not looking,’ he complains.
‘I have a date tonight too,’ you tell him.
He looks so surprised you toss a throw cushion at him.
‘Are you lying because you don’t want me to think you’re a sad workaholic who’s been chronically single since university?’ he asks, with such accuracy you throw another throw cushion at him.
You wonder if that’s why they’re called throw cushions.
‘It’s a blind date,’ you say. ‘My friend Hyunjin set it up. Also I don’t give a shit what you think, at least he’s not an ex-con.’
Jungkook looks hurt. ‘I’m not an ex-con either,’ he points out.
Which reminds you of your arrangement.
‘We can’t both go on dates tonight,’ you say. ‘I’ll cancel.’
‘What, so you can blame me for being single forever? No way. I’ll take care of it. Where’s your date?’
Jungkook pulls his phone out of the pocket of his almost jeans.
You tell him the name of the restaurant.
‘I’ll have my date there too,’ Jungkook decides. He flashes you a smarmy grin that makes you throw your last cushion at him.
He’s already heading out the door. ‘Pick you up later and we can go together,’ he says.
Your door closes behind him, then opens again almost immediately. 
‘By the way,’ he says, holding up a pair of your silk panties. ‘I’m borrowing these.’
You fumble for something else to throw at him but he’s already closed the door again.
His infuriating laughter echoes in your ears long after he’s gone.
***
Jungkook’s taunts sound in your head as you get ready for your date.
You gaze in the mirror at your reflection critically.
Is your dress too short? Are your shoulders weird looking? And what the hell is happening with your hair?
You remind yourself that you can’t go another year of being single at your family’s annual get-together. You can already hear your  Auntie Rina’s probing questions, your cousin Binna’s smug comments, your brother Jin’s increasingly acidic barbs to anyone who tries to criticise you.
Besides, it’d be nice to meet someone who’d care if you were sick or who’d come over to chase away a spider if it took up residence in your bathtub. 
You purse your lips for a coat of lip tint and put the wand back just in time before the familiar, side-of-fist banging on your door starts.
At least he’s consistent, you think ruefully to yourself as you yell, ‘Coming, keep all your clothes on!’ 
You pull on your coat and belt it snugly as you slip your shoes on.
You nearly get Jeon Jungkook’s fist in your face as you yank open the door.
You duck at the same time he startles and says ‘Shit, sorry!’
‘It’s fine,’ you say, hoisting your bag on your shoulder.
You turn to go and realise he’s still standing by your door, staring at you.
You’re conscious of your heels and bare legs and that you’re wearing more makeup than usual. 
‘Spare me whatever is about to come out of your mouth,’ you say, spiky.
You’re honestly one rude comment away from going back into your apartment and your cosy couch. You still haven’t caught up on your drama.
You head for the lifts without looking to see if he’s following.
***
Jungkook holds the door open for you at the restaurant your blind date picked.
‘Do you have a reservation?’ asks the hostess. 
You give her your date’s name and she beams at you. ‘Right over here, follow me.’
She leads you to a table where a man is already sitting waiting.
He stands as you approach, and holds his hand out.  ‘Jang Junwoo,’ he says.
You introduce yourself and notice he’s looking awkwardly over your shoulder.
You realise Jungkook’s still standing behind you. 
‘Can I get you something, Jungkook?’ you ask, teeth gritted.
‘Nope,’ he says, cheerfully. ‘I’m just waiting for you to move so I can take my seat.’
You realise with horror that he’s indicating the table right next to yours in this cosy restaurant.
‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ you say. 
Jungkook winks at you. ‘I hear the steak’s good.’
***
Jang Junwoo is kind of pretentious, you think, but then again a lot of these finance bros are. He spent a minute more than necessary pontificating over the wine’s bouquet, but he’s been polite enough to the waitress, and he has asked you a few questions about yourself.
Looks wise, he’s kind of your type, you think. He’s clean cut, tall and with a lean physique set off by his well-fitted shirt. He’s not got any visible tattoos or piercings, which is fine with you.
You’re not into that at all.
Beside you, Jungkook’s date, a petite bottle blonde in a low-cut dress with the best natural-looking cleavage you’ve seen laughs at one of his jokes.
She’s been laughing a lot, which is funny, because Jungkook’s really not that funny at all.
You realise Junwoo’s asked you a question.
‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise. ‘I missed what you said.’
‘He asked if you like to work out,’ Jungkook supplies helpfully from beside you, barely two feet away. 
He leans forward, and in a stage whisper, tells Junwoo, ‘I’ve never seen her in our gym.’
‘Stop eavesdropping on my date,’ you hiss. 
Jungkook continues, ‘But she looks good in athleisure.’
He smiles like he’s just helped you, and you turn pointedly away. 
‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise again to Junwoo. ‘I’m his court appointed guardian. It was this arrangement or prison, wasn’t it, Jungkook?’
Instead of looking put off, Jungkook’s date looks even more intrigued.
Junwoo, bemused, says, ‘Don’t worry about it. Should we get dessert?’
You split up with Jungkook after dinner when Junwoo suggests a nightcap at a bar nearby.
Jungkook assures you he’ll go straight home. 
Looking at the way he and his date are draped over each other, you don’t doubt it. Thankfully, your apartment building was built pre-war and the walls are decent quality.
Junwoo ushers you into the bar, and, alone together with him for the first time all night, you feel your self-consciousness return. 
You catch him looking at your thigh where your skirt’s ridden up and when he sees you’ve noticed, he smiles smoothly like it’s no big deal.
He orders another bottle of wine and you let him drink most of it because your tolerance is low.
His tendency towards pretentiousness is more pronounced when he’s tipsy, and it’s when he’s telling you about how you should try to experience genuine Lyonnaise cuisine that you decide you’ve had enough for now.
‘I should go,’ you say, smiling at him. ‘Thank you for a lovely evening.’
‘I’ll escort you home,’ he says. ‘It’s late.’
He pulls on his coat and offers his arm, and you take it because you’re three blocks away from home and you can walk it in under ten minutes.
When you reach your door, you turn and hold out your hand. 
‘Thanks again, Junwoo, it was really kind of you to walk me home.’
He takes your hand and shakes, but doesn’t let go.
‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’ he asks.
‘Not tonight,’ you say firmly, trying to pull your hand away. 
‘I paid for dinner, and drinks,’ he points out, like that’s going to convince you.
‘You insisted,’ you counter. ‘Anyway, good night.’
He’s about to say something else but you don’t hear it because the lift dings and the doors slide open, and Jungkook steps out. 
His shirt is half undone, and there’s a big-ass hickey on his neck, but you’ve never been so glad to see him. 
‘Ah Jungkook,’ you say. ‘Did you have a good night?’
Jungkook pauses in front of you and Junwoo, eyeing the way your hands are still entwined.
‘Yeah, I did. How about you?’ he asks. 
‘We’re doing great, bro,’ Junwoo says.
‘Yeah?’ Jungkook asks, eyes on you. 
You swallow your pride. ‘Not great, JK.’
‘Yeah,’ Jungkook agrees. He makes eye contact with Junwoo. ‘You should get going, bro.’
Junwoo’s hand tightens around yours. ‘Yeah, bro?’
Jungkook shrugs. ‘You know why she’s my court appointed guardian? I’m not going back to Cheonan.’
At the mention of the notorious maximum security prison, Junwoo’s eyebrows rise. 
He squeezes your hand again, hard, then lets you go.
Jungkook stares at him the whole way as he leaves.
As soon as the lift doors close behind Junwoo, you sigh and slump against your door. 
‘Thanks, Jungkook.’
‘No worries,’ Jungkook says. He runs a hand through his dishevelled hair. ‘Guess my date went better than yours, huh?’
‘I shouldn’t have let that asshole pay. I knew he’d take it as an invitation,’ you say, ruefully. 
Jungkook looks at you. ‘Is that what he said? What an asshole. Jangmi told me not to expect anything.’
You look pointedly at the hickey on his neck, and he laughs but doesn’t say anything else.
You fish your keys out of your bag. ‘Anyway, thanks. Your timing was pretty good.’
‘Yeah I waited in the car outside for you and saw you guys arrive,’ Jungkook says.
You stare at him. ‘What?’
‘Wanted to make sure you got home ok,’ Jungkook says, yawning.
He’s already heading to his own apartment.
‘Hey,’ you call. ‘I didn’t know you were in Cheonan.’
Jungkook laughs. ‘Youth detention centre, not the prison. Spent four months there when I was 14.’
He’s reached his own door. 
‘Good night, Y/N. You looked really pretty tonight.’
He smiles at you crookedly and goes inside.
***
Six months earlier
You have no idea why you’ve been summoned to Jeon Mido’s office, and waiting outside in her secretary’s workspace isn’t helping your nerves.
You’ve been working for Albion for two years, and in that time you’ve never met her. 
Why would you?
She’s one of the founding partners of Albion, the biggest law firm in the city, and you’re a relative newbie hired straight out of law school two years ago. 
You’ve never had cause to venture beyond the tenth floor of this Albion-owned building, and now you’re in the penthouse.
The doors open, and Jeon Mido steps out.
‘Ms L/N,’ she says. ‘Please, come in.’
You take a seat in front of her sleek modern desk and wait.
‘Park Sejun tells me you worked extremely hard on your last case,’ she says, gazing at you. There’s a shrewdness in her eyes that reminds you that she built this law firm from nothing, despite her soft demeanour.
‘Thank you,’ you say.
‘You did an excellent job.’
You thank her again, wondering where she’s going with this. Is she about to dismiss you? Surely Park Sejun could have done that for her.
You haven’t done anything to warrant a promotion.
‘I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here,’ Jeon Mido says. 
She sets her hands on her desk gracefully. 
‘I heard what you said about the defendant on your last case. He has a record, he’s been in and out of trouble since he was a teenager. Our client was the plaintiff and you did enough to ensure the win but you didn’t go for the jugular like some of your colleagues would have.’
You get a sinking feeling. Is this why you’re being fired? Because you didn’t completely annihilate your opponent?
She seems to be waiting for a response, so you compose your thoughts.
‘I knew we had enough to win,’ you say carefully. ‘I didn’t want to waste my efforts completely destroying the defendant’s credibility when his only mistake was that he relied on his staff instead of verifying things for himself.’
‘That’s not what you said, though,’ she prompts.
You think frantically but can’t remember anything you said that would have stood out, particularly. 
You sigh. If you’re going to get fired, you might as well come clean.
‘My brother Jin got in trouble when we were teenagers,’ you say. ‘He got mixed up with a gang and he was too naive to get out before the gang leader got busted.’
You’ll spare her the details. ‘Anyway, he’s got a criminal record now, and because of it he can’t get a ‘respectable’ job. He couldn’t be a lawyer like me and he’d be a hell of a lot better, if I’m being honest.’
You shrug. ‘He made a mistake but he’s still the best person I know. I guess the defendant reminded me of him.’
Jeon Mido’s looking closely at you, but hasn’t said anything. 
‘Thank you for hiring me,’ you say. ‘If you want my resignation —-‘
‘You’re mistaken,’ Jeon Mido says, finally. ‘I don’t want to dismiss you. I wanted to ask for your help.’
Which was how you ended up in a coffee shop with Jeon Mido, waiting nervously to meet her son.
Jeon Jungkook.
She’d filled you in on the details. He was her younger son, and he’d been in and out of trouble with the law since his teenage years for various things. Fighting, stealing cars, and even, hilariously, once for posing as a valet at a high society event and parking all the cars at the foot of Mount Samo for the illegal drag racers to take their pick. 
After his most recent infraction she and her husband had sat down with Jungkook and given him an ultimatum to clean up his act or be cut off from his family’s fortune. 
You were to be an additional factor to tip the scales in his favour. 
Her proposition that you be Jungkook’s unofficial guardian and try to keep him out of trouble had sounded ludicrous at first, you were barely responsible enough to look after yourself. You certainly weren’t responsible enough to become a glorified babysitter to a grown man with a history of getting his own way. 
The only reason you hadn’t disagreed to this insane-sounding plan outright was that Jeon Mido had built the very building you worked in, from the ground up, off her own intelligence, strength and force of will, at a time when successful self-made women in South Korea were virtually unheard of. 
Additionally, Jungkook had agreed to meet you so he must be somewhat willing to comply with his parents’ ultimatum. 
You’d been expecting a degree of charm and good looks in her son, Jeon Mido was an attractive woman, but you still had to stop yourself from staring when Jeon Jungkook arrived.
Tall, broad-shouldered and built like an athlete, he’d smiled at you and offered his hand, and you’d shook it praying your own weren’t clammy with nervousness.
He was so good looking he made you want to throw up.
If this was what a life of crime made Jeon Jungkook look like, it certainly suited him.
He flicked his tongue out over his lip ring, dark eyes on you, and you wondered what that tongue would feel like on your skin.
Fuck. 
Fuck.
You were fucked from the moment you saw him, and it was only much later that you realised how bad the damage was.
It’d started off innocently enough. He’d moved into the apartment next to yours.
You’d hung out together a bit to get to know each other, and that first week had been fine.
Then he’d said, casually, one evening, that he was popping out for a cigarette, and he’d be back in fifteen minutes.
It was three frantic days before you found him, in some seedy pool hall, drunk and blazed with a new tattoo and the keys to a Maserati he didn’t own in his front jeans pocket.
He’d made you fish the keys out yourself, and he’d giggled like a schoolgirl the entire time.
After that, you’d been more insistent about sticking to the stipulations his parents had laid out, and had accompanied him everytime he left the apartment after dark.
You’d realised what a mistake that was when he offered to buy you brunch and paid all in unmarked bills out of a duffel bag filled with stacks of cash. 
Jeon Jungkook didn’t confine his criminal activity to night times.
Fuck that shit.
Then there was that time he’d offered to pick you up from work in a new car you’d assumed was his parents’. The penny had only dropped when the police sirens had sounded behind you and you’d asked, nervously, if he should pull over.
Jungkook had taken one look in the rearview mirror, and said, dismissively, ‘It’s only one patrol car. I can lose them, easily.’
He’d proceeded to do just that in a high-speed car chase in a stolen car that spanned the busiest road in the city.
It’s the first and only time you’ve been on the seven o’clock news. 
On the plus, you’d found out that he really was as good a driver as he’d claimed. 
You’d gone to see Jeon Mido in her office as soon as your legs stopped feeling like jelly, ready to apologise and say you weren’t able to do the job you’d agreed to do.
To your surprise, she’d just encouraged you to carry on.
For his part, Jungkook’s always treated you with an irreverent kind of tolerance. He’s annoying as hell and you’ve learned not to trust most of what he says, but for all his sexual innuendo around you, he’s never once crossed the line you’d drawn in the sand at the beginning. 
He’s danced along it a few times, though.
By the time you’re six months into your year-long arrangement, you’ve reached an uneasy stalemate with Jungkook. 
Sometimes, you almost like the guy. 
Annoyingly, he’s also stayed as hot as the day you met him.
***
Present day
You haven’t seen Jungkook in a few days, so you text him to check on him.
You’re already trying to remember how to get to the strip club you found him in the last time he went missing when he texts back. 
Jungkook: I’m dying
He’s fucked with you enough times that you’re not all that concerned yet.
Y/N: Yeah? How?
Jungkook: The plague
You consider this as you plate your lunch. You lift a forkful of greens to your lips, then hesitate, and sigh.
Five minutes later you’re knocking at his door. 
He answers so quickly you wonder if he was waiting on the other side of it.
He does look like hell, to be fair. 
His nose and eyes are red, and he looks pale under his golden tan. He’s wrapped up in a duvet from chin to feet. 
‘I’m dying,’ he tells you, melodramatic as fuck.
‘Do you have a cold.’
‘It’s way worse than a cold,’ he insists.
You shake your head, but he does look worse than you’ve ever seen him.
You sigh. ‘When did you last eat?’
Jungkook’s already looking at you so hopefully you haven’t the heart to say anything as you turn back around and let him into your apartment.
‘Try not to infect me,’ you tell him, as you lay a place setting in front of him at your kitchen island.
Jungkook replies, ‘I got my regular tests done last week, all negative.’
You look at him in disgust. ‘With your cold, asshole.’
He leers at you, but it lacks his usual panache.
You serve out the food and sit down opposite him to eat.
‘I always use condoms, anyway,’ he says, after a moment. He winks at you, but it’s still half-hearted. 
You pass him a glass of water.
‘Drop the sex pest act for a few minutes,’ you advise him, helpfully. ‘No one’s fucking anyone in the state you’re in, anyway.’ 
He looks at you, and you can almost see him clicking through the repertoire of innuendoes he has in his head.
Finally, he says, ‘Thanks for this. It’s delicious.’
You tilt your head, pretending to be confused. 
‘Did you just say something without sexual connotations, Jeon Jungkook?’
His smile is crooked.
‘Don’t worry, I’m still thinking sexual things about you in my head,’ he assures you.
You laugh. ‘Shut up and eat.’
***
Jungkook starts to look a bit less like death warmed over after he’s eaten, but the clingy asshole’s parked himself on your sofa and shows no sign of moving.
You shrug and put on the TV. At least if he’s with you, there’s less chance of him being in that strip club where there’s no parking outside. What a ballache that had been.
You put on the latest episode of your drama and he perks up. 
‘I haven’t seen this episode yet,’ he tells you. 
His duvet’s slipped lower, and you’ve yet to see anything but his skin.
‘Please tell me you’re dressed under there,’ you say, warningly. 
‘Yeah but I can take it all off,’ Jungkook offers.
You don’t dignify that with a response, just pass him some flu meds and a bottle of kombucha and settle in to watch the show.
After the episode ends he still shows no sign of moving, so you put on a movie and pass him some snacks.
By the time the movie ends it’s dark, and when he asks you what you want for dinner you let him order takeout for both of you.
You eat sitting alongside each other on the couch as the next movie plays.
After a while you realise he’s fallen asleep, and that this is the most male company you’ve had in a while, and that you don’t hate it.
You don’t hate him.
In fact, in the dim light from the TV and with his mouth closed and his hair rumpled over his relaxed sleeping face, he looks….. 
Tempting.
Like the boyfriend you could have if you could ever get over yourself enough to date someone seriously.
For some reason that makes you feel a little sad.
That you’re so starved for male company you’re longing after your neighbour who’s only hanging out with you because you’ve made an arrangement with his parents. 
If you’re being honest with yourself, he’d probably have never shown an interest in you otherwise.
You pull the duvet over his shoulder, switch off the TV and top up his water and meds before heading to bed.
***
The banging on your door startles you and your elbow jostles the glass on the edge of your kitchen counter. It drops to the floor and shatters, and you think dryly that it’s a metaphor for how close you are to the edge of killing Jeon fucking Jungkook.
You yank open the door with a scowl.
‘Yes, Jeon Jungkook?’ 
He looks a little edgy himself. ‘I want to show you something.’
‘Is it your dick?’ you ask, tiredly, letting him in.
‘Always, but it’s something different today.’
You glance at the clock. It’s six in the evening. 
‘Watch out,’ you say, as he passes the kitchen. ‘I dropped a glass.’
He doesn’t even blink. 
There’s a nervous energy about him today, he looks like he’s buzzing out of his skin.
You follow him warily to the window that overlooks the street behind your building.
‘Are we looking out for the police?’ you ask, in a dramatic whisper.
He gives you a half-smile. ‘There were two plainclothes cops staking out the place all of last week. I think they’re dealing out of apartment 4B.’
You stare at him. ‘Are you serious?’
He scoffs. ‘How do you not notice these things?’
‘I never really have to worry about the police coming for me,’ you say, straightfaced.
‘Sucks to be you,’ he says, without his usual conviction.
He reaches down towards his jeans and your scowl returns. ‘Jungkook, I really don’t want to see your dick.’
‘Stop lying,’ he says, but what he takes out is a small black rectangular plastic object.
It’s about the size of half of his outstretched palm. 
You wonder where he’s going with this. 
He says, ‘Look.’
You both watch as a man in a business suit pulls up to a parking spot on the street, gets out and locks his car. The headlights flash, twice.
He heads into the apartment building opposite yours.
As soon as he’s out of sight, Jungkook hands you the tiny black rectangle. 
‘Press the button.’
You press the small grey button, and to your surprise, the car headlights flash again.
The car’s unlocked.
‘What the—-‘ 
‘It’s a car key cloning device,’ Jungkook says. 
He takes it back from you.
‘All I have to do is press it at the same time as the person locking the car presses their own key, and it clones the signal.’
He says, with more than a hint of wistfulness, ‘I could steal any car on this street.’
You’re shaking your head. ‘Where did you get this?’
‘I made it,’ he tells you. ‘I didn’t invent the tech, my friend did, but I made this.’
His eyes meet yours. 
‘Can you keep it?’
His words hang in the air between you. 
He mistakes your silence for hesitance. 
‘I just — ‘
He clears his throat and starts again. There’s pleading in his voice, a wild kind of spark in his eyes.
‘Can you keep it? I don’t want it to be this easy to steal a car tonight.’
You swallow past the lump in your throat. He’s never asked for your help like this before.
He usually goes ahead with whatever impulse he has and you’re stuck playing catch up.
Today, he’s given you a head start.
You take the device from him and stick it in your bra.
‘Don’t try to seduce me to get it back,’ you warn.
He’s already eyeing up your tits. 
He clears his throat again. 
‘Actually, I’m surprised you managed to fit it in there. Are you on your period? Your tits look huge.’
As usual, you don’t deign to respond.
‘I was going to make dinner,’ you say. ‘Do you want some?’
‘You can cook me dinner,’ he agrees, like he’s doing you a favour. 
‘But wait. Let me clean up that glass first,’ he says.
‘It’s fine,’ you say. 
He stops you. ‘Nah. Look at your hands.’
You hold a hand out, palm up, and he traces a callused finger along your life line.
Warmth unfurls along your skin, following the path of his finger.
You look up to see him looking at you, heat in his eyes. 
Your heart pounds, slow, and his tongue flicks along his lower lip.
When he speaks, his voice has dropped, low.
‘You’ve probably never even changed the oil in your car,’ he says, but he sounds affectionate, almost.
‘I wouldn’t want you to cut yourself.’
He smiles, and lets go of your hand. 
Your skin feels like it’s crackling with electricity from his touch, and god help you, you want more.
You don’t trust yourself to speak.
Jungkook says, very quietly, ‘You’re doing something for me, let me do this for you.’
Your eyes meet again, and you find your voice. 
‘The oven needs a clean, too, if you’re offering.’
He laughs, and just like that, whatever that moment was, ends.
‘I’ll clean your oven,’ he says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.  ‘Put a bun in it too.’
‘You’re disgusting,’ you complain, trying to punch him, but he’s already too far away.
***
You’re balancing on the back of the couch on your tip toes, trying to reach the lamp shade so you can change the blown lightbulb in your hanging lights, when the now familiar banging starts on your door.
You turn too quickly, lose your balance and fall headlong onto the floor. 
The resulting crash against the parquet flooring is all the louder because Jungkook’s stopped banging on your door.
You roll onto your back, groaning a little as the wrist you held out to protect your face flares with pain.
Jungkook’s started banging again, and your phone, out of reach on the coffee table, starts ringing.
You can just about make out his name on the screen, and the ridiculous selfie he took of himself shirtless that he put in as his profile on your phone.
All the racket is enough to make you sit up and hobble to the door.
‘Shit, are you ok? I heard a crash,’ says Jungkook, wide-eyed.
‘I’m not good with blood,’ he warns, but he’s checking you over gently anyway.
‘What was so urgent you needed to bang on my door?’ you ask, grumpy.
He presses your sore wrist, gently, and you wince.
‘I got pizza and wanted to know if you wanted some,’ he says. He ushers you to your couch. 
‘I’m getting ice,’ he calls over his shoulder.
‘You could have texted to ask if I wanted pizza,’ you call after him.
He emerges with a bag of frozen peas you didn’t know you had.
‘But then I wouldn’t get to see your face,’ he protests. ‘Also, you never answer my video calls, not since I saw you in your underwear that time.’
You don’t bother correcting him. 
He wraps the peas in a towel and passes the bundle to you. 
‘Your wrist looks bad, you should get it checked out,’ he advises. 
You grimace. ‘I have a case coming up,’ you tell him.
‘Just tell them it was a sex injury,’ Jungkook suggests, helpfully. He offers you a hand to get up. ‘Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital to get checked out.’
‘Fine,’ you say. ‘Grab the pizza.’
***
You’re waiting to see the doctor with Jungkook and trying to ignore the fact that he’s pulled a burner phone out of his back pocket.
He glances around furtively and you’re craning your neck to look at the screen when your name is called.
The doctor who’s said your name looks at Jungkook. 
‘Mr Jeon,’ she says. ‘What is it this time? Another broken metacarpal from fighting?’
Jungkook’s face creases into a smile and you can almost hear the adoring sighing of men and women around the room.
‘Dr Lim,’ he says. ‘You know I don’t break my hand anymore since I started winning all the time.’
You gag at his corniness, but Dr Lim just smiles back. 
‘Well, you’re always welcome to get checked out for any injuries,’ she says. ‘You have my number.’
‘Did you save it on your burner?’ you ask loudly, but they both ignore you.
By the time you’ve had an X-ray and been told your wrist is just sprained, not broken, you’ve heard enough of Jungkook’s smarmy flirting that your ears are burning.
‘Yeah, I’m still going to the gym every day,’ you mimic, flexing your bicep as you get into Jungkook’s car. ‘Want to feel?’
Jungkook rolls his eyes. ‘I don’t talk like that.’
You give him your sleaziest grin. ‘Wow you have your name embroidered on your white coat? Amazing!’
Jungkook starts the car. ‘Still don’t talk like that,’ he mutters.
‘Yeah, let me take you for a spin in my Skyline sometime,’ you say, puffing out your chest and deepening your voice.
‘Seatbelt,’ Jungkook says. 
When you reach for the seatbelt and wince because you forgot about your wrist, he sighs.
You press back into the seat, startled, as he leans over you to fasten your seatbelt for you.
He pauses with his face directly in front of yours. 
He’s so close you can feel his breath on your cheek.
He leans forward and kisses you. 
It’s a peck, and over before you know it, but it’s enough to shut you up.
‘Stop being cute,’ he says. ‘Or I’ll kiss you again.’
He throws the car into gear.
‘Besides,’ he adds. ‘The only woman I’ve tried to impress with this car is you.’
You’re staring at him, still trying to process, when he adds, thoughtfully, ‘then again, I haven’t had this car very long….’
***
You’re trying to get your suitcase down from on top of your wardrobe when there’s a blur of movement in the periphery of your vision. 
You scream and hightail it off the ladder you’re on.
The spider you saw stops right above the corner of the ceiling where your suitcase is.
You’ve already dialled Jungkook without even thinking about it.
He answers with a lazy, drawled, ‘yo’, but his tone sharpens quickly when he hears your voice and panicked breathing.
‘Jungkook. There’s a spider holding my suitcase hostage,’ you whisper, dread in your voice.
‘Why are you whispering?’ Jungkook asks. You can hear the amusement in his voice, and for once you don’t care that he’s laughing at you.
You fight to regulate your volume. ‘It might hear me and attack,’ you say. 
It seems completely reasonable to you.
Jungkook laughs so loudly you have to hold the phone away from your ear. 
‘What does he want with your suitcase?’ Jungkook asks, when he’s re-composed himself enough to speak. 
He’s definitely laughing at you rather than with you, but you’ll take any amount of taunting if he deals with the spider for you. 
‘Please,’ you plead, ‘can you get rid of it.’
Jungkook yawns. ‘Ok. But don’t expect me to put on a shirt.’
A moment later he’s in your apartment, looking up at the ceiling at the spider.
‘Just grab the suitcase please,’ you say. ‘The spider can have this room from now on.’
Jungkook snorts. 
He grabs the suitcase and places it next to you, then, before you can work out what he’s going to do, he taps on the wall next to the spider and it runs down to the floor.
You scream and jump into his arms.
He really did come over bare-chested, the asshole, and the sweatpants he’s barely wearing are low on his hips, so it’s a little more indecent than you’d like, but there’s no fucking way you’re sharing the floor with a spider that can run faster than you.
Automatically, like he’s done this a lot, Jungkook’s big hand reaches down to support your ass. 
He’s still laughing. ‘Is this like, do you want to see my cat, but it’s a spider instead?’ 
You ignore his taunts and bury your face in his shoulder.
His laughter fades. 
‘Shit. Are you crying? Listen, don’t worry. I’ll get rid of it, ok?’
You’re too scared to look at the floor. 
‘You don’t even know where it is now,’ you sob.
‘I know exactly where that fucker is,’ Jungkook assures you. 
He’s probably lying but you don’t want to check for yourself.
He deposits you onto the bed and tries to peel your legs off his waist. 
‘As much as I want to fuck you, let me deal with this spider first, ok?’
At his words, you loosen your legs from around him and he pats your thigh. 
‘Stop crying. Stay here and I’ll get rid of it,’ he promises.
It’s several long minutes and muttered curses later before he returns, a little sweaty but with a glass of water for you.
He hands it to you and brushes your hair back from your face as you drink.
‘I didn’t know you were that scared of spiders,’ he says. His tone is gentler than you’ve ever heard it.
‘They bite,’ you say. 
‘They bite—-‘ Jungkook trails off, shaking his head.
Jungkook sits next to you on the bed. ‘I’m sorry I laughed at you.’
‘It’s ok,’ you say. You swipe at your tearstained face. ‘Did you get it?’
‘Promise I did,’ Jungkook says. ‘Cross my heart. That fucker isn’t bothering you again.’
‘Where did you put him?’ you ask. ‘In the bin?’
‘Nah. Chucked him out the window,’ Jungkook says. ‘Fuck Spiderman.’
‘Fuck Spiderman,’ you echo.
‘Listen, if you have a spider problem again just call me, ok? Or you can text if you’re worried the spider’s going to hear you. I’ll take care of it.’
Jungkook grins. ‘I won’t put a shirt on either.’
He leans back onto his forearms, and the way his abs stand out make you feel pretty tingly, you’re not going to lie.
‘I don’t mind you staring,’ he tells you. ‘I know I look good.’
You roll your eyes, but he’s been so decent about helping you that you’ll let him have that.
‘What’s the suitcase for, anyway?’ he asks.
You sigh. ‘It’s my annual family get together this Saturday,’ you tell him. ‘My entire extended family go to this beach house and we have dinner together and hang out. It’s been a thing since I was a kid.’
‘Sounds nice,’ he says, but his tone is incredulous.
‘It is nice,’ you say. You smile a little. ‘My grandma cooks and my brother Jin goes fishing and I have so many little cousins now.’
You get up. ‘Of course, there’s the usual round of relatives asking ‘why aren’t you settled down and having babies?’ And my cousin Binna’s a pain, but it’s only once a year.’
‘It’s too bad Junwoo was such an ass,’ you say. ‘I was hoping if I came with a date this year that it’d take some of the pressure off.’
‘I can help,’ Jungkook says.
‘For the last time, Jungkook,’ you say, ‘we are not having a baby together.’
‘Firstly,’ Jungkook says, ‘our baby would be so good looking. But that’s not what I meant.’
He looks tentative for the first time since you met him.
‘I can go with you, if you want.’
***
Your suitcase is by the door, ready to go.
You’re waiting for Jungkook to come by so you can leave together for your family retreat.
You’re not sure what to expect, if you’re being honest. It had felt like a good idea having Jungkook come with you at the time. After all, with the amount of time you’ve spent together over the last few months, he knows recent you as well as anyone.
He’d promised on pain of death and dismemberment that he would refrain from excessive sexual innuendo in front of your elders, but that was all you’d managed to get out of him.
You’re almost afraid to look at him when he knocks on your door.
You start from his feet, in the boots he’s favoured lately, to jeans with no visible rips that you can see in the front, to his fly which is done completely up, to his belt and then a white wife-beater over which he’s layered a black shirt.
When you get to his face he’s smirking at you. 
‘Spent a long time checking out my dick,’ he comments.
‘Just checking your fly was done up,’ you say, semi-truthfully.
He lifts your suitcase for you.
At your expression he says, ‘Don’t worry, you can pay me back by giving me a blow job whilst I’m driving us to the coast.’
‘Sounds dangerous,’ you reply.
‘Jagiya,’ he says, smarmy, ‘Danger is my middle name.’
‘Don’t ever call me that again,’ you threaten.
‘Princess?’ he wonders.
‘Shut up and drive, Jeon Jungkook.’
***
Jungkook’s driving is so steady that you fall asleep and wake only when he stops for petrol.
You look around, disoriented, and see him looking at you through the glass of the rear passenger window.
He opens the door. ‘Want anything from the shop?’
You yawn. ‘No thanks.’
When he gets back in the car, you say, ‘Hey, let me know what I owe you for gas.’
He snorts as he drives out of the petrol station. ‘You know my family owns the biggest manufacturing company in Busan, right?’
You shrug. ‘Money ain’t everything.’
He nods. ‘Yeah, money ain’t everything, if you’re just normal rich. I’m fuck you and all your ancestors rich.’
You say, lightly, ‘I’m never paying my share of takeout again.’
He laughs. ‘That’s what I like about you. You don’t give a shit.’
‘That’s not true,’ you protest. ‘How many people would have chased you across town to track you down when you stole that French ambassador’s diplomatic car?’
He’s quiet. 
The road stretches out in front of you.
‘I’m seeing someone, you know,’ he says.
‘What?’ you scoff. ‘Who’s dating you?’
‘Not like that,’ he tells you. He glances at you in the rearview. 
‘I don’t want you to have to be a crutch for me forever.’
Now it’s your turn to be quiet. 
Since that time when Jungkook came over to hand over his key fob cloning device, he’s dropped various things over at your apartment for various periods of time.
A pen drive.
The keys to his Skyline.
His burner phone.
Once, a black jewelled thong, but you think he was just fucking with you that time.
You cleared a drawer in your hall table for him, and things appear and disappear.
He doesn’t always talk about it, not like that first time. 
‘I’m glad you’re working on it,’ you say, sincerely.
You lean back in your seat. ‘You know you can always drop stuff off in the drawer if you need to.’
‘Oh in the drawer?’ he says, feigning surprise. ‘What about your spare room wardrobe? I left weed and maybe a couple of stacks in there.’
‘Fucking hell,’ you grumble, ‘No wonder all my linens smell like a college dorm.’
You’re both smiling.
‘Thanks for helping me out with this,’ you say. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘How come you couldn’t get one of those Yonsei dipshits to take you?’
You roll your eyes. ‘Firstly, you asshole, I went to SNU.’
Jungkook snickers.
‘Secondly, sad as it is, you’re the only man I’ve spent any time with lately.’
‘That’s what I mean,’ he says. ‘You’re hot, you put up with a lot of shit and you have an ass that won’t quit. How come you’re not dating anyone?’
You look out the window. ‘You’re right, I’m such a catch, why am I single?’
Jungkook asks, ‘Are you really bad in bed?’
You’d laugh if the turn of conversation wasn’t so depressing.
‘Yeah. I’m really bad.’
‘I wouldn’t mind if you were a pillow princess with me,’ Jungkook says. You think he means it as a compliment.
You say, just to move the conversation on, ‘Did you bring any snacks?’
‘Yeah,’ Jungkook says. He reaches into the center console and tosses you a pack of corn chips. ‘Please feed me too.’
You spend the rest of the drive placing corn chips into Jeon Jungkook’s filthy but admittedly beautiful mouth.
***
You and Jungkook are one of the first to arrive at the beach house. Your parents and Jin are already there. 
You’re worried Jungkook might be nervous about meeting your parents, but he surprises you again.
Once introduced, he chats easily with your dad about cars, and you can tell from your dad’s reactions that he likes Jungkook.
Jin nudges you as you follow your parents and Jungkook into the house.
‘Binna’s going to be all over him,’ he says.
Your cousin is beautiful, sexy and could flirt with a rock.
You shrug. ‘Don’t worry, Jinnie. You’re still the prettiest around.’
Jin says, crossly, ‘I wasn’t worried about that.’
You’re both distracted by the arrival of your cousin and her children.
The minivan pulls up almost to the entrance of the beach house, and your cousin Daeun jumps out.
‘Dasom superglued her hand to Jinah’s face,’ she announces grimly. 
She hands you baby Taehyun. ‘Can you watch the baby? I’m taking them to the drugstore to see if they can give us anything to get this shit off.’
‘Mama said a bad word,’ chants Dasom. 
‘I’ll drive you,’ volunteers Jin.
He ushers Daeun and the girls into his car. 
You look for someone to help.
‘Need a hand?’ Jungkook asks, popping up from behind you.
You huff. ‘Can you sort this car out?’
Jungkook appraises the minivan in silence for a moment.
‘Yeah,’ Jungkook replies, serious. ‘It probably won’t sell for much as it is. I’ll have to take it apart to sell it for parts.’
You glare at him. ‘I meant park it, Jungkook, not sell it on the stolen cars black market.’
Jungkook laughs incredulously. ‘Stolen cars black market? What even is that? Have you learnt nothing from the last year?’
Taehyun, in your arms, giggles along with Jungkook. 
You can’t believe you’re being ridiculed simultaneously by both a baby and the grown-ass man you’re babysitting.
Jungkook’s still chuckling to himself as he maneuvres the minivan expertly into the space beside his car.
You can see him through the window, the asshole.
***
Jin hadn’t been wrong about Binna being interested in Jungkook. To be fair, even happily married Daeun had given him a second look.
Even your conservative grandmother had looked past all his visible tattoos and piercings and declared him a good boy.
You’re pretending not to notice as Binna, sitting on the other side of Jungkook at the dinner table, leans into Jungkook’s arm as she reaches for the green beans.
Your Auntie Rina fixes you with a look. 
‘I’m so glad you finally found a man,’ she says. ‘We were so worried you’d be single forever.’
Beside you, Jungkook stiffens. 
‘I wasn’t worried,’ says your mother from opposite Jungkook. ‘Better no man than the wrong man.’
‘It’s true,’ sniffs Auntie Rina. ‘Who was that awful boyfriend of yours who kept asking if you really wanted more helpings? As though there’s anything wrong with your weight…’
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. She isn’t saying anything she hasn’t said before, to be fair.
Jungkook, beside you, nudges his full glass of soju towards you. 
‘Is your car the 2019 model outside?’ he asks your aunt. ‘I know a man who can fix it for you.’
‘Fix it?’ Auntie Rina asks.
‘Yeah. Looks like it has a flat tire,’ Jungkook says, wide-eyed, all innocence. 
Your eyes meet his, and you choke back a laugh. 
As soon as the conversation moves on you turn to Jungkook. ‘Does it really have a flat tire?’ you ask, under your breath.
Jungkook leans so close his lips brush your ear, making your skin prickle. 
‘I’ll make sure it does,’ he promises. 
After dinner, you excuse yourself to get some air and find Jungkook sitting on the steps leading down to the sand, behind the house smoking a cigarette.
You sit next to him. 
‘Thank you,’ you tell him. ‘I hope this isn’t too awful.’
He just smiles, exhales. 
‘I’m enjoying it,’ he says simply.
There’s a breeze blowing in from the sea, ruffling his hair. 
He’s so pretty like this you’d take a picture if you weren’t worried he’d never let you hear the end of it.
Jungkook reaches out, curls a finger in a lock of your hair.
He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t get a chance to.
You lean forward, close your eyes and kiss him.
It’s short and it’s lovely. 
You start to pull away, but he cups the side of your face and kisses you back.
His lips are soft, and he kisses you slow, like he wants to learn the shape of your lips with his own.
He hums, deep in his chest, as his lips meet yours. 
For all the crass sexual comments he’s made to you over the last year, Jeon Jungkook’s kisses are undemanding, sweet.
When he pulls away, you’re both breathless.
His cigarette glows on the step next to him, forgotten.
‘I knew I’d like kissing you,’ he tells you. 
You look down at his hand, somehow entwined with yours.
‘Are you holding my hand?’ you ask.
‘Yeah. You’re a little sweaty but I don’t mind,’ he tells you.
He laughs when you try to pull away. 
‘Do you want to come to my room?’ you ask.
He hesitates. 
‘I’d like to, but you know, I’m really good at fucking, are you going to be able to keep your voice down?’
‘Shut up, I’ve changed my mind,’ you say, getting up.
He tugs you back down. ‘Hey.’
He waits until you’re looking at him.
‘If you really want me there, I’d love to go to your room,’ he tells you.
For once, he sounds completely serious.
‘Yeah. Come.’
***
You’d been a bit worried it might be awkward, but true to form, Jungkook jumps into your bed and pats the covers like he’s the one inviting you into your own bed.
‘It’s my bed,’ you grumble, but he just laughs. 
He kisses you again, his mouth warm over yours. He tastes like the soju he’d been drinking, and he hums when you part your lips to taste more of him.
His tongue licks into your mouth, and when you run your hands over his shoulders he slips his shirt over his head. 
He stops you when your hands go to the hem of your top to do the same.
‘Can I?’ he asks.
You nod, and raise your arms to help.
‘Fuck,’ he murmurs. He’s staring at your breasts. ‘I’m going to need to cum on your tits as my last dying wish.’
‘Jeon Jungkook, shut the fuck up.’
‘Screaming my name already,’ he teases, but he starts kissing down the curve of your neck and the whine that falls from your lips is involuntary.
He hums approvingly as your arms tighten around his shoulders.
He dips his head between your breasts and then nips over the curve of your left breast.
He reaches around your back to unhook your bra, waits until you nod to undo it. 
‘Pretty,’ he says, then he’s sucking a hickey into your skin, laving with his tongue when you whine in protest.
He’s hard. You can feel him even through the layers of clothing as he grinds his hips on yours.
You tuck the tips of your fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tug. He kisses you again, then pushes up onto his knees on your bed.
He unbuttons, slips his jeans down, and holy fuck, it’s not like you haven’t seen him in his boxer briefs before, but it’s a whole different ball game when he’s looking down at you, heat in his eyes and his dick so hard your mouth waters at the sight of it.
No pun intended.
Jungkook pushes your hands away when they go to your own waistband.
 ‘Let me do it,’ he says. 
He tugs your jeans down over your ass and thighs.
‘Fuck,’ he breathes. ‘These silky panties look even better on you.’
You press a hand over his open mouth.
‘Shut up and fuck me,’ you say. 
You trail your hand over the length of him in his briefs, and then he’s moving fast, fumbling with his jeans.
He pulls out a strip of condoms and catches your eye.
You giggle at how ridiculous he looks, and a moment later, he’s laughing too.
‘How many times —‘
You’re cut off by his mouth on yours.
‘Many. I’ll fuck you as many times as you want,’ he tells you, breath hot on your cheek.
He nudges your thigh with his. ‘Spread.’
He fits himself between your legs and kisses you again. 
The blunt head of him nudges you, and you don’t realise you’re holding your breath until he’s in you all the way and you’re dizzy with pleasure.
He buries his head in your neck. 
‘Fuck. You feel so fucking good,’ he groans.
He moves, a slow stroke that makes you arch into him.
You moan his name, and he moves again, rocking his hips against yours, deep, hard.
You close your eyes but realise what a mistake that was when you open them again and see how beautiful Jeon Jungkook looks when he’s fucking you.
He hooks a forearm around your thighs and drags you to the edge of the bed so he can stand and fuck you.
Fuck, how have you never realised how strong he is?
He smirks at you, and you’d want to slap it off his face except he’s doing something with his hips now that’s making the pleasure spiral and you’re two short steps from —-
He lowers his mouth to yours again and then you’re coming, legs wrapped around his hips, his chest flattening yours, his sweat all over you. 
He murmurs what sounds like approval as he fucks you through it.
You gasp his name and he groans, fucking you harder, speeding up and then slowing until he comes, buried deep inside you.
He pulls out, yanks off the condom with a whine and ties it off, dropping it on the floor carelessly. He collapses down next to you, panting. 
For a moment you’re both quiet.
Then he says, ‘Shit. That was way better than jerking off with those panties I stole.’
You slap him on the chest. ‘Shut up, asshole.’
‘Stop flirting with me. I need a minute before we can go again.’
Jungkook grins at you but he’s still got an arm around your hips and his thigh slotted between yours so you can’t be too mad.
***
You wake up to bright sunshine right in your face even though you drew the drapes last night before you went to bed because Jeon Jungkook is halfway in your open window.
You sit up, confused as hell. 
‘What the fuck—‘
You can’t work out if he’s coming or going.
You get your answer then he drops into your room with a thud.
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘Forgot to slash those tires last night.’
‘You didn’t?!’
‘Keep your voice down,’ he advises. ‘We don’t want her to know it was me.’
You’re speechless.
‘Did you seriously just —‘
‘Don’t finish your question so I don’t have to answer it,’ Jungkook tells you.
He’s getting undressed again, kicking off his shoes, staring hard at your bare chest half covered by the duvet.
He jumps back into bed with you and you greet him with another kiss.
His hand trails over the curve of your breasts.
‘Let’s not talk about it again,’ you say.
‘Yeah,’ he agrees.
‘Do you want to come on my tits?’
Jungkook groans. ‘Fuck, yeah.’
***
You’re back at home in your apartment unpacking when the familiar banging on your door starts.
You yank the door open. ‘You literally just left, Jeon Jungkook,’ you complain, before you realise he’s not alone.
Jeon Mido, Jungkook’s mother and your boss, is standing outside your door and you’ve still got sand in your hair from fucking Jungkook on the beach before you left the beach house. 
Jungkook adjusts the collar of his shirt in a vain attempt to hide the hickey you gave him.
‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise. ‘I wasn’t expecting you.’
Jeon Mido smiles graciously at you. 
‘Jungkook tells me he met your parents over the weekend,’ she says.
‘They liked him a lot,’ you tell her, wondering where she’s going with this.
She nods. ‘Good. I thought maybe you’d like to come to dinner with us tomorrow night. My husband would love to meet you.’
You’re so surprised you can’t do anything but accept.
Jeon Mido smiles at you and takes her leave.
You turn to Jungkook. ‘What was that?’
Jungkook shrugs, shaking sand out of his jeans pockets. 
‘She’s always said she wants to meet my girlfriends.’
He’s not looking at you directly, and the tips of his ears are red.
‘What?’
‘I don’t know,’ he says, finally.  ‘I’ve never had a girl I’m dating meet my parents before.’
‘We’re not dating!’ 
He’s looking at you now. ‘Aren’t we?’
The way he’s looking at you gives you pause.
‘We see each other every day. We hang out at each others’ places. You help me with my problems and I help you with yours. I’ve met your family.’
He smiles. ‘And you’re the most fucking amazing girl I’ve ever met.’
You stare at him.
‘Unless,’ he continues, ‘you just want to be fuck buddies. I’m down with that too.’
He looks like he’s about to turn away so you grab his arm and tug him towards you. 
‘Ok, Jeon Jungkook, I’ll date you,’ you say.
He nods. ‘I thought so.’
He leans down so you can kiss the smug smirk off his face.
©hamsterclaw 2024
With thanks to bloviating-vy for introducing me to the phrase 'fuck you rich' and the works of Smashy for the immortal phrase 'Yonsei dipshits'.
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writersdrug · 5 months
Text
Training for Two
Chapter 3. New Trails
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Masterlist
Summary: You and Riley take the beaten path to defeat boredom. Simon realizes that the seed of his new obsession has been planted.
Warnings: mild cursing, obsessive behavior
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Simon had never told you how long he'd be gone - which was fine, your flat was only a twenty-minute drive from his home, should you need to do laundry or get more soap. You had some freelancing logo-design work you could focus on in your downtime, and Simon had been gracious enough to leave a note on the coffee table with the wifi password. Truth be told, you imagined this would feel like a holiday: no more shitty bosses. You were your own boss, here. You could make your own schedule, as long as you made time for Riley.
You soon discovered, after moving into Ghost's house, that it was very much not a vacation. The interior of his home was so barren that it made you feel like you had been sent to an asylum. On your first day there, you managed to get a bit of freelance work done; after that, you tried watching the telly, but you couldn't drown the heavy restlessness in the back of your mind.
You decided to phone a friend.
"What's Riley like?" Leslie said through the phone, which was tucked under your ear.
"Military dog." You replied. You were lying on the floor next to Riley, stroking her fur as her head rested on your stomach. "So proper, I've never seen anything like it. You know- when I made breakfast today, I dropped some food on the linoleum- she didn't bat an eye. Girl just watched."
"That's amazing... you know Donald would have run to it like it was the first meal he'd been fed in years."
You laughed, making Riley's head bounce on your abdomen. "Mum has got to stop feeding them real food..."
"What about the client?" Leslie said, changing the subject. "Simon, was it? What's he like?"
"Honestly?" You began, scratching between Riley's ears. "A decent guy, don't get me wrong - but bland. Gruff. His apartment is, too."
"Just like ya mum always said." She snickered. "Can I see?"
You sighed. "Nah, I never checked if it was ok to bring people over. Not sure if he'd appreciate me giving you a tour. But I'll ask next time if you can visit."
"That's fair..." You heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. "Well listen babes, I should get back to work. Got five left on my lunch break."
You groaned at the prospect of having to be alone in Simon's barren home again. "Alright... still on for this Thursday?"
"You know it! Nina's coming too."
You grimaced. "Whoop-tee-doo..."
"Oh, c'mon, I'll make sure she's civil. Love ya."
"She'd better be. Love you!"
The call ended with a click, and you let the phone slide from your shoulder with a sigh. You stared at the ceiling, running through what you could possibly do. You'd already had a shower at your flat before coming here, you'd done plenty of work...
Riley tilted her head up to look at you, sensing your frustration. You looked back down at her.
"What d'you and Simon do all day?" You asked.
She sighed and looked away.
Maybe it was time for a walk.
"Alright, Riley!" You said, pocketing your phone and sitting up. She scrambled up at the sudden movement; her eyes followed your every move as you stood, her stare expectant and excited.
"Fancy a walk?" You asked.
She whined and yapped, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
You chuckled. "C'mon, then - before you and I both start going insane."
On your way to the closet to fetch her leash, she had nearly knocked you down to beat you there. You huffed, leaning down to grab your shoes and tug them on. She sat (im)patiently and watched, her tail slapping against the wooden floor.
"Alright, alright..." You laughed, grabbing her leash and latching it onto her harness. She obediently trotted to the front door and sat, waiting for you. You opened the door and stepped outside, confused when the leash tugged in your hand. You looked back inside and saw that Riley hadn't moved from her seat on the floor. She looked at you, ears forward and eyes eager as she waited for... something.
You looked at her, puzzled. "What's wrong, girl?"
She whined, pointing one foot up and thumping her tail against the floor.
Oh, right. Military dog.
"Okay, Riley." You said clearly, and she happily trotted out the door. You chuckled, locking the deadbolt behind you and beginning the much needed walk. She stuck right by your side, never passing you nor falling behind.
For the kind of gruff, admittedly shady man that Simon was, you noticed that he lived in a pretty nice area. If you told your mum where he lived, she'd blow a cap out of jealousy - the houses were neatly lined down the street, each one with a driveway and a small garden bed underneath the living room windows. Simon's was noticeably bare - Christ, even his grass was thinner than the other neighbors', how does one manage that?
You eyed his empty garden bed as you passed it. You wondered if he would let you plant a few things... just to liven up the drabness. A couple of Hostas, maybe some African Violets... you knew he wouldn't want too much colour, but he definitely needed something to brighten his home. Currently, it stuck out like a sore thumb against the other houses. Not to mention, it would give you something to slice through the boredom of staying here.
Eventually, the sidewalk led to the edge of a small patch of woods. A bridge stretched over the creek, which then led to a longer, winding path through the trees. You came to a halt, reading the sign next to the trail.
"Po-wee-hee-co park..." You mumbled and Riley stared at you with her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. "Poeheko Park? You ever been here?"
She looked between you and the trail, sniffing the air. She licked her lips and whined.
"Suppose not, Simon's only ever dragged you around the block a few times, huh?"
She eyed the trail warily, but you could see her eyes brimming with eagerness and interest. You chuckled, reigning in her leash and starting over the bridge. "Time for an adventure!"
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Simon sat stoically on the heli, eyes fixed on the wall across from him. His palms rested on his thighs, fingers splayed. He appeared calm and collected, focused on the mission that Priced had debriefed not too long ago.
Except, the mission couldn't have been further from his mind. He was thinking about you and Riley. We're you giving her enough attention? That was a dumb question; clearly you knew how much attention a dog needed. You'd done this before... but had you ever worked with a dog that had certain needs and medications? You never mentioned it during the interview, and he didn't remember to ask. What if you couldn't see the signs when Riley's pain was flaring up? What if you had forgotten that she needed pain medication?
He thought about texting you - but he quickly shut the thought down. He'd reserved texting for emergencies only, and he knew you were good at your job. There wasn't a moment of your life you hadn't spent around dogs, of course you would take perfect care of Riley.
"Honin' in, LT?" Soap's voice echoed through the coms as he took the seat opposite from Simon. He was relaxed, as if this was just another Friday for him - well, Simon supposed, it was.
"Always." Simon replied gruffly, focusing back on the mission at hand. He cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, trying to keep a cool composure.
"How's Riley doin'?" Soap asked. "Know I jus' seen 'er a few days ago, but- ye finally cave n' get someone to pet sit?"
Simon grunted. "'Course. Not gonna leave 'er alone that long, it'd be torture."
"Who'd ye get?"
"What's it to you?"
"Secret service? Ye snag one of the Royal Guards fer the job?"
"Jog on, Soap." Simon warned with a serious look, and Soap raised his hands in defense.
He couldn't tell Johnny about you. A fierce, possessive feeling in his chest told him not to. He knew Johnny had a thing for young, pretty things like you, and he refused to let you fall victim to his desires. In fact, he hated the thought of it.
But- who was he? Why was he being so protective over someone he barely knew? You were an adult, perfectly capable of making your own decisions. Why should Simon cockblock you and Johnny? So what if he wanted to shag you?
Mentally, he shook his head. No. Never. He'd lock you in his house if it meant keeping Jonny away from you. Even if Simon wasn't anything more than your client, he wasn't going to allow Johnny to get close to you. It would be too weird. You're his, after all.
...
Fuck.
He sighed and adjusted his position in his seat. You and Johnny didn't even know each other, for Christ's sake. He was overthinking all of this. You'd probably never even meet his team, why would you need to? You only ever have reason to spend time in his house, not on base. You just watch Riley, make breakfast in his kitchen, sleep on his couch, maybe his bed, if you're with the dog... using his bathroom, his shower...
He scowled at himself. Maybe hiring you was a huge mistake. You were too distracting.
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baby-yongbok · 1 month
Text
Only You
Seo Changbin x afab!Reader
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✧ Genre - Smut - personal trainer!Changbin ✧ Word Count - 1.1k ✧ Warnings - Unprotected sex (Wrap, wrap, wrap it up) [i think that's it] ✧ a/n - thought of this at 4am & wrote it in my notes half asleep. it's lightly edited. Changbin has just had my heart in a headlock lately..+ reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡
✧ Masterlist ✧
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Leg day is the bane of your existence, well, it used to be. You’ve been going to a new gym for awhile now and the owner of the small spot offers personal training. He’s assigned Thursdays as leg day and at first you dreaded it but now things are a bit different.
"Mm, fix your form. Right leg out a bit more." Changbin pants below you as you dip down into yet another squat.
You learned in the second month of working with Changbin that he can get pretty… hands on when training you. You’ve also noticed that he only gets this involved with you. You’re the only client that he allows to stay late.
 You throw your head back as you struggle to keep yourself stable with the foam roller he’s placed in front of you. 
"Bin, can we please do this another way." He tsks, planting both hands on your waist to guide you down. He only does this with you.
"You've been skipping squats." He taps your right leg in a silent attempt to get you to correct your form again. "What kind of trainer would I be if I let you do that?"
You dip down again, this time it's perfect, you can tell by the way he sighs beneath you. His head lulls back for just a second as you take all of him. You settle into a deep squat in his lap, sheathing the length of his cock in your warmth. 
He only does this with you. 
"Bin, my legs are fucking burning." Your protests are breathy and followed by deep moans that reverberate through the empty gym. The dim lights highlight the sweat forming on your brow and the slick coating his cock. "Please just help me." 
Changbin sighs, feigning annoyance as he runs a hand through his damp locks. His hands find the dip of your waist as he moves you forward just enough for his lower half to hover off of the bench as he leans back into the leather.
"Hold the squat." He positions himself, holding you steady. "Keep your core tight."
Humming, You take a deep breath. "Binnie, seriously, my legs are - ah my god." 
His hips snap into you before you can finish your sentence. He smirks at you through the mirror as he watches your face twist in pleasure. Your eyes snap shut, your teeth sink into your bottom lip and your thighs tremble ever so slightly. You’re so pretty like this.  
"You wanted help." His hips snap up into you again, this time followed by another thrust and then another until he's drilling into you at a relentless pace. 
"I'm helping, aren't I? Think this is easier?" Moans are all that he gets in response. Your nails dig into the foam roller as you try your damn hardest to keep yourself up.
"Breathe, baby." You clench around him, milking a moan from his chest. "Gotta breathe while I fuck you, okay? Hold that position, you're almost done."
Changbin allows himself to indulge in the warmth of you for a second before it ends. He throws his head back with a sigh as he takes in just how perfectly your cunt swallows him. 
He never meant to cross this boundary with you, he had every intention of treating you like a standard client. He’d train you for the amount of time you paid for then you’d leave, but then he started falling for you. 
He started paying extra attention to your cute workout sets and the way you looked while lifting weights. He started noticing the way you’d only look at him when you came for training. He has two other trainers, handsome men who compliment you regularly but you only looked at Changbin. Only him. 
Then he asked you out and when you said yes he tried to take it slow. He tried to wine and dine you but when he caught your eyes wandering down his frame during a late night training session he knew he just had to have you. The rest is history. 
Since then he’s taken a special sort of pride in training you. He does what he has to to make sure that you have a good session even if that means having you bent over or precariously perched on some machinery while he rearranges your guts as he sees fit. 
“Bin, that’s deep that’s so fucking deep, I can’t.” You whine, eyes locking with his through your debauched reflection. 
"You got it, baby. Just hold it like that, just like that.” He moves firmer and deeper into you, dragging against your walls and hitting spots that you could only dream of. “You jus' gotta cum. Cum for me and you're all done baby, c'mon."
Your cunt squeezes him as you fight to keep your core tight. Every contraction and deep breath drives you closer to the edge and aids Changbin as he follows close behind. 
"Fuck, baby please, I'll cum. I'm gonna cum." You're whining, crying into the air as the burn in your legs matches the pending snap deep in your stomach.
"Cum, please. 'M gonna cum. Gonna fill you, please baby, fucking doing it" He whines right back. His voice is thick yet high with need and it snaps the band and breaks the dam that has you gushing all over him. 
Changbin's orgasm promptly follows. He fills you up, ropes of sticky white coating your pulsing walls. 
You collapse mid orgasm and he catches you. He holds you in his arms and lets your cunt milk him dry before he turns you in his lap, cock still plugging your hole, and cuddles you into his chest. 
"That's my baby." He pants, smirking down at you. "Did so well."
"I can't - can't feel my legs." You chuckle breathlessly. "Can we please be done, Bin?"
"We're done, bunny. Let's hit the showers and maybe I can finally take you on that date, yeah?" He lifts you with ease, carrying you over to the men's shower room. The sound of his sneakers padding over the linoleum of the empty space is soothing in your post-fucked state. 
"Baby?" He calls, and you drift out of your haze just a bit. "You can't stand, can you?”
"Nope" You hum a reply, grinning up at him. 
"Hm." He sits you on the counter, leaving you for a second to set up one of the showers. "Can I fuck you against the shower wall?" He calls out to you and you giggle. The sound makes him smile. 
"What about our date?" You call back. He reappears, naked with a wide smile. 
"We might have to reschedule.”
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jeonginsleftcheek · 3 months
Text
Code to your heart
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pairing: lee felix x amab!reader
genre: fluff, smut
word count: 12.5k
description: Felix pines over his oblivious coworker. But a new project at the office becomes a chance for him to get closer to his crush.
warning/s: swearing, time skips, masturbation, lots of mutual pining, mc and felix are both oblivious, oral, handjobs, cum swapping, kinda public sex, protected sex, bulge kink for a moment, dirty talk, praising, light bondage, lots of aftercare (lmk if i missed something)
a/n: i enjoyed imagining and writing this so much and i am so proud of it, i hope y'all enjoy this too!🥹🫶🏻
~check out my: Masterlist
How long has it been since you haven't moved from your desk? Four, five, six hours? You've lost track of time, your brows are furrowed, eyes red from lack of sleep, your bottom lip caught between your teeth, nimble fingers gliding over the keyboard.
You haven't gotten up to get your coffee refilled yet or to eat. You didn't even notice your cup was almost empty. But Felix noticed.
He notices everything about you. Like how you only come to the office Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays. Those are the days he looks forward to the most. Your favorite color must be black because that's mostly what you wear. You have a favorite pair of jeans, black with rips on your thighs. Felix's eyes always linger a little longer on your legs when you wear those.
You take your coffee black too, your eyes always closed when you take the first sip. Felix's face scrunches up when he imagines the bitter taste of it. You run your hand through your hair multiple times whenever you're frustrated, only to have it fall back into your eyes. You bite your lower lip when you concentrate.
Felix could go on and on, and does that make him creepy? No, he is just observant and you're his favorite person to observe.
You're oblivious to this, not even sparing a single glance towards your secret admirer. Somehow, you always turn your brain into work mode, tunnel vision only for the two screens before you as you type out your code.
Felix doesn't mind this dynamic (if you could even call it that), he's too afraid to actually come up and talk to you. Looking at you from afar is kind of comforting. It's safe. It helps him get through the day. Whenever he's stressed about an error or a bug in his program, he can just look up, face almost completely hidden behind his screen as he glances at you, working a few tables away from him.
After all, the two of you do different things so you don't really cross paths or communicate a lot. Felix deals more with clients whereas you just like to put your headphones on and code. It's a safe space, you get to listen to your favorite music, be in your own little world, create from scratch, every word, number, symbol and parentheses typed out with vigor and purpose.
It's lovely to do work that fulfills you but it's also frustrating and lots of times it makes you want to pull your hair out or punch through your screen. But, it's nothing a good cup of strong coffee can't solve.
And Felix knows this. He knows that whenever you start feeling frustrated, you get up to get more coffee. He's at his desk, looking at you losing your mind. You're running your hand through your hair, biting your lip, shaking your leg. Something's got you worked up and Felix has been gathering his courage for three fucking months.
He's gonna do it. He will get up, get your coffee from the machine and he will bring it to you, strike up a conversation, maybe ask you out. His skin starts itching from nervousness and he has to get up right now, before he chickens out again.
Felix shuffles hurriedly to the machine, before you can get up and ruin his plan. He puts his coins into the machine and punches the button for black coffee. He glances back at you, your back now turned to him and he gulps as he looks at the broad expanse of your shoulders.
This really is not the right time to think about your shoulders or your arms, not when he's already so nervous to even come close to you. The machine beeps and Felix grabs the coffee, his heart leaping out his chest.
"Lix, hi!"- he almost bumps into his coworker Jisung as he turns around.
"Oh, hi Jisung."- Felix curses him in his mind. Wrong timing. Jisung is a blabbermouth and now he's going to ruin everything.
"Since when do you drink black coffee? I thought even dark chocolate was too strong for you."- Jisung smirks, poking fun at the poor boy.
"No, this is not for me. It's..."- Felix starts and then you're next to him suddenly. Well, next to the machine. And you drop your coins in and punch the button for the black coffee. Shit.
"It's what?"- Jisung tilts his head.
"Nothing, I gotta get back to my desk."- Felix mumbles, almost skipping back to his designated place, embarassment settling in his bones.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid Jisung. Why did he have to come in the wrong moment? Stupid Felix. Why can't he just come up and talk to you like a normal person? He groans, hiding his face in his hands, his body shrinking behind his desk. And that stupid cup of black coffee staring at him, mocking his predicament.
He can't even bring himself to look up at you, he feels so embarassed, as if you can read his mind and know what his intentions were. Felix sighs, fingers gliding over his keyboard, you didn't even acknowledge his existence when you came up to the coffee machine. If you were interested in him even a little bit you'd probably strike up a conversation, Felix thinks. He sees you communicating with some of your colleagues, laughing with them and he wishes he was the one causing that laugh and twinkle in your eye.
-
It's been a week since Felix's lame attempt at talking to you and he's contemplating what to do again. Should he try the same thing? Should he just come up to you like a normal grown up and say something like 'hey, I think you're hot, wanna go out?'. No, there's no way he would ever do something so bold. With his luck, he would probably accidentally do or say something embarassing and you'd never talk to him again.
But his luck is about to change.
"Felix, I need to see you in my office."- his boss comes up to his desk.
"Oh, okay."- Felix nods, confused if he did something wrong. He glances at your desk, but you're not sitting there anymore.
He takes a deep breath in, preparing himself mentally for whatever awaits for him in his boss's office. What he least expects is to see you sitting in one of the chairs.
Felix stops in his tracks, legs turning to jelly, his heart beating hard against his chest, hands shaking. How to breathe? Because he feels like he can't remember the basic things his body automatically does.
You turn around and look at him, your eyes traveling from his feet to the top of his head and Felix feels scrutinized. Fuck, is his hair messy? Did he fuck up his eyeliner this morning? Does he have something between his teeth? Did he accidentally forget to change out of his pjs before coming to work?
Felix's feels like his last brain cells have just abandoned him.
"I'm sure you two already made acquaintances, Felix and Y/n."- your boss gestures between the two of you with his hands, smiling like nothing important is happening. Like you aren't just two steps away from him, and he can smell your cologne and it's making him feel dizzy.
"Yeah, sure."- you nod, a small polite smile on your face, your eyes unreadable. Felix's chest vibrates with nerves, excitement rushing through his veins. You've noticed him?
"Yeah!"- he says, a little too enthusiastic and then cringes internally at himself.
"Well that's good because we have a huge project coming up. I've been monitoring both of your work recently, and I've decided that coupled with the skills you two have, the time you put into your work and your results, you'd be my best people for this."- your boss says and is Felix dreaming? Is he dreaming? Because this can't be for real.
"These are the clients files, Felix you will take care of the promotion and marketing, Y/n you will take care of coding and implementing the product. Ofcourse, this isn't something only the two of you can do so I'm also assigning you a team. But I want the two of you to come up with ideas how to implement this because through your creative work, I can see you have a similar thought process."- your boss explains, giving you a folder of documents.
You seem unphased as you flip through the pages while Felix is literally melting into a puddle, he wants to scream, cry or claw at the wall, or possibly all of the above.
"Questions?"- your boss asks.
"When can we start?"- you ask, ready to tackle any task you've been given.
"As soon as possible."
-
Felix follows you as you make your way out of your boss's office.
"Wanna get started right away?"- you ask.
"Yeah, sure, I just finished the last assignment I had."- Felix answers, trying to calm himself down and hoping to all the gods that he looks normal on the outside.
You nod, making your way towards your table where you leave the folder.
"You want some coffee?"- you ask.
"Oh sure. With milk and three sugars."- Felix says and he swears you look disgusted for a moment before you turn around and leave for the coffee machine.
"Thanks!"- Felix calls behind you and you dismiss him with a wave of your hand.
Felix doesn't know what to do with himself. He doesn't know if you wanna work at your desk, his desk, or maybe one of the empty offices. He feels so awkward, scared that he'll embarass himself and look stupid in front of you, and he doesn't want to blow what might be his only chance.
He's startled from his thoughts by you putting the coffee cup on the table.
"Here, your coffee."- you say it pointedly.
"T-thank you."- Felix feels his face heating up as you stand so close to him.
"Maybe we should take one of the empty offices for more privacy."- you say, grabbing the folder and shrugging.
More privacy. Why would you say it like that? Felix starts freaking out as he reads between the lines.
"Y-yeah, sure."- he answers and both of you grab whatever you need from your desks before you walk into one of the empty offices.
As soon as you sit down, you take a sip of your coffee, your eyes closing like always and Felix steals a glance at you. He can't believe you're actually sitting so close to him.
After that first sip, you waste no time, going over the documents and requests of the client with Felix. The boss is proven to be right as the both of you start discussing the best way to approach this project, you agree on everything almost instantly.
For a few moments, Felix forgets how embarassed he is to be next to you as you keep your themes of conversation professional.
This is the first time you've actually taken a good look at Felix. Ofcourse, you'd say a polite 'hello' whenever you ran into him. You'd seen him at his table or walking around, talking to everyone, always wearing pastels, especially baby blue. When you're concentrated on your screen and he walks by, you see a bundle of blue just pass by your peripheral, leaving behind the sweet scent of his cologne.
You've also noticed that there's half eaten chocolate or candy on his desk always. You wonder if he has cavities with the amount of sugar he's eating, internally cringing at the thought of the artificial sugary taste.
You never noticed that he wears makeup, just a bit of eyeshadow, barely noticeable eyeliner and gems under his eyes. You never noticed that his face is full of freckles, reaching even up to his ears. You never noticed how plump his lips are, upper lip in the shape of a heart.
A thought runs through your mind; wow, he's really pretty.
Your heart skips a beat and you shake your head. No, you don't even want to entertain such thoughts. You don't want to start anything with anyone, you enjoy being alone and free, only having to care for your cat. Humans are complicated. You don't do complicated, unless it's a code. And even the most difficult algorithms are easier to you than people.
Business. That's what you're going to concentrate on. The task before you. You dismiss thoughts about Felix, almost ignoring his presence as you start working on a data flow chart.
Felix on the other hand, sweats profusely across from you. He's also working on his laptop but it feels awkward. He's used to yapping away with someone even while he works but you're so zeroed in on your screen that it seems like you don't even care that he's there.
How is it so easy to strike up conversation with anyone except you? Felix swears his brain turns to mush whenever he tries to formulate sentences in front of you.
"Felix? Are you listening?"- you wave your hand in front of his face, and oh my god you said his name. Felix perks up immediately, his neck and face burning up like a fucking forest fire as you stare at him.
"Um, you were saying?"- Felix fake coughs, trying to cover up that he was zoning out.
"I said I'm done with the flow chart. If you wanna look at it?"- you say, turning your laptop towards Felix.
"Oh right, sure."- Felix nods and you get up and sit next to him, sliding your laptop closer. Fuck fuck fuck. He can't do this, Felix has no idea how he'll take being so close to you, yet so far away.
"So, this is what I was thinking..."- you start explaining, and Felix listens, he really does but you smell so nice, your hair looks so soft and your knee bumps into his a few times. His insides turn into jelly but he makes himself listen. He can't afford to make a fool out of himself in front of you. He wants to impress you.
He concentrates and adds his input, and you stare at him as he talks, your eyes roaming all over his face. Just why are you looking at him like that?, Felix thinks as his heart beats out of his chest.
Your eyes fall to his lips as he keeps talking, and Felix sees your tongue dart out shortly and lick your bottom lip. Fuck.
"Anyways, yeah, so what do you think about that?"- Felix finishes.
"Sounds good. We're on the same wavelength. We should have a meeting with the rest of the team tomorrow. Jisung and Minho probably already went home. And I don't think Changbin is here today at all."- you conclude.
"Yeah, I agree."- stupid. 'Ask him out! Do it! Just say it!', Felix's brain screams at him.
"Looking forward to working with you, Felix."- you smile, a genuine smile, your hand reaching towards his.
"Yeah, me too!"- Felix beams at you, shaking your hand.
Something flutters in your stomach. Those damned butterflies! You get up as fast as you can, gathering your things because the office suddenly seems smaller than it did before.
"See you tomorrow."- you say, and turn around, speeding out the door before Felix can even react.
Felix sits there for another five to ten minutes, the smell of your cologne lingering around him, your voice still echoing in his ear, the feeling of your hand holding his still on his skin.
How can he recover from this?
-
The next day, you arrange a meeting with your coworkers. Felix wants to strike up a conversation that doesn't involve work with you. But it seems that being closer to you feels like you're even further away than you usually are, a few desks away from him and not acknowleding his existence.
You're concentrated on your coding, mostly talking to Minho and Changbin since they're programmers too. The three of you keep exchanging ideas and talking about things Felix doesn't understand as deeply as you do.
At the end of the day, you politely greet everyone and slip away like sand slipping away through his fingers.
And that happens every single day of you working together on the project.
Ten days later, Felix is becoming more and more frustrated, and today's been a particularly bad day all together and Felix makes mistakes the whole time.
"Are you even paying attention?! We're gonna be behind because of you."- Jisung rolls his eyes in annoyance.
"Cut him some slack, Jisung."- you chime in before Felix can even open his mouth and hey, what the hell. You stood up for him! Felix feels like he can conquer the world, climb the highest mountain, dive the deepest sea, fly up into the sky and probably land on the Moon.
"Sorry."- Jisung mutters. "I'm just on edge."
"We all are."- Changbin adds and it's true. The client keeps changing and adding requests, and he's too particular about everything, making all of your team want to pull their hair out.
"Next week, I'll be working from home only. So, we can just use Zoom for meetings, okay?"- you announce at the end of the shift.
Felix is disappointed. Now, he's not even gonna see you for a whole damn week. He hasn't been without you for more than 2 days in the last few months and he doesn't know how he'll survive working without getting a dose of you.
-
Felix chooses to work from home that week too. His roommate and friend, Chan, is out of town so he can sit in his living room freely and type away.
He's on his couch, munching on some gummy candy as he works when suddenly he gets a notification to join a zoom meeting. He looks at it and freezes. Your name is on the screen.
He quickly fixes his hair, already embarassed that he's wearing some dumb gaming merch shirt, it's too late to change it right? Is the apartment even clean?, he thinks and looks around. The frame of what you'll see seems fine so he connects to the meeting.
Felix fully expects to see his other three teammates but it's just you. You on his screen. In a plain white shirt, your hair still wet presumably from a shower, posters on the wall behind you, lofi music playing somewhere in the background.
Fuck, you look delicious, Felix almost starts screaming at the screen. How can you be that gorgeous without even giving it any effort?
"Hey, sorry to pull you into a meeting without warning but I just wanted to go through some of the things we talked about on Friday with you."- you say.
"Yeah ofcourse! Don't apologize. I was working anyways."- Felix says, moving his hand and accidentally rustling the bag of gummies next to him.
"Are you munching on candy again?"- you ask, with a knowing smirk and Felix swallows. This is the first time you asked him anything that has nothing to do with work.
"Well yeah. Sugar fuels me."- Felix shrugs, flashing you a bright smile.
"You'll get cavities."- you shake your head.
"That's a problem for tomorrow."- Felix says and you chuckle. His heart hammers in his chest, he can't believe he made you laugh, even if it was just a small chuckle.
"Well then, let's talk about today's problem."- and there it is, back to work again.
Felix deflates a little but there is still a spark within him, a spark of hope for anything blossoming between you, even if it was just a friendship, he would be happy to be by your side.
You work through your ideas together, and Felix sees you're ready to end the meeting so he panics and attempts to make you stay on the call a little more.
"Why did you take a week to work remotely?"- he blurts out. Fucking cringe. Why did he ask something like that?! You probably have your own private reasons and now he's prying into your life like some kind of desperate fool.
You look taken aback by the question and Felix wishes his couch would open up and swallow him, making him disappear forever.
"Oh, well, my cat is sick. So, I have to take him to the vet and be with him while he gets better."- you answer, and Felix absolutely melts.
"You have a cat?"- he smiles at you and you nod, returning a smile.
"Dimples."- you say.
"What?"
"My cat's name. It's Dimples."- you chuckle, your cheeks becoming a little rosy. Felix screams internally. You're not only handsome and intelligent. You're fucking adorable.
"Don't ask."- you wave your hand as Felix opens his mouth.
"Can I see him?"- Felix beams at you.
"Oh, sure. Let me get him."- you say and get up.
Felix catches a glimpse of your sweatpants, his insides churning at the sight. He has some time to look around the room you are in, and he leans in closer to get all the details imprinted in his mind. The posters hung on your wall, a cool lamp in the corner, a bookshelf full of figurines and well books, a guitar case on the floor.
Your bed, slightly unmade, with black covers and a black fluffy blanket.
"Here he is. Mister Dimples."- you appear suddenly, startling Felix as he backs away from his laptop a little.
"Oh my god! He's adorable!"- Felix gasps.
"Isn't he just the prettiest?"- you say, eyes shining as you look at your cat and nuzzle into him. Dimples meows, trying to get out of your grasp, obviously not having it.
Felix doesn't know if he wants to squish you in that moment or if he wants to be squished by you.
"Alright, he's not in the mood right now."- you chuckle, letting Dimples hop out of your arms. "But, I swear he's a friendly cat usually."
"He's not like too sick? I mean, he'll be okay?"
"Oh, yeah he'll be fine."- you smile, some kind of intimate atmosphere settling between you and your coworker. Your stomach does that butterflies thing again and you panic.
"Well, anyways, revise what I sent you in that document and then we can continue tomorrow."- your demeanor changes and Felix straightens his back and nods.
"Sure!"
"Bye, Felix."- you say and end the meeting abruptly.
Felix sits still for a few moments. Did he do something wrong? Did he cross the line somehow? Did he make you uncomfortable?
He sighs as he opens up the document and pops another gummy in his mouth.
So what if he gets cavities.
On the other side of the screen, you're taking a few moments too. Seeing Felix without makeup, dressed casually, with his hair unkempt made you feel some type of way. He looked even prettier than he does at work, if that was even possible.
It's hard enough to resist talking to him every day at work, but now that you've seen him in a relaxed state like that, your mind races.
Images run through your mind and you wonder how his soft lips would feel against yours. How pretty his legs would look all wrapped around your waist. How sweet his moans of pleasure would sound if you had your way with him.
Oh, what the hell is wrong with you?
-
Felix can't sleep that evening. Now he knows what your room and your bed look like. Now he can really imagine one of his many scenarios. One that involves the two of you in your bed.
In his half-asleep state, Felix feels hot as he imagines you on top of him, his hand sliding down to the tent in his boxers. He imagines you taking complete control over him, your kisses demanding, hands bruising and hips unforgiving.
He wants to surrender himself completely, let you touch him however you want, fuck him however you want.
His hand wraps around his leaking cock and he wishes it was your hand squeezing him, demanding sweet release from him.
He lets himself moan loudly, hand speeding up, lost in the thoughts of you, your voice, your smell, your touch. Felix cums hard and as soon as he comes down from his high, shame rushes into his brain. He can't believe he just did that.
-
Monday. That dreadful day. Felix is afraid of facing you, like you'd know what he did. He didn't touch himself to the thought of you only once, not even twice, he did so three times. The things he imagined were getting more visceral every time and when he walks into the building and sees you getting coffee, he is mortified.
He hesitates, almost tripping over his feet as he slowly makes his way to you. You sense a presence and turn around only to be greeted by Felix's shiny eyes and freckled cheeks. Your face heats up and you turn back to the coffee machine again.
"Morning."- you mumble, avoiding to look at him. Fuck, why does he look especially pretty today? His hair is in a half updo, there's little shiny stars around his eyes and lipgloss on his lips. It's all sparkly and sugary but his eyes shine the most as he looks at you. You can't take it.
"Good morning!"- Felix says nervously, why did you turn away like that? Can you actually read minds?, Felix is panicking again. Can you see what he's been thinking about all week? He catches a glimpse of himself in the glass nearby, he put in extra effort today and even wore his favorite baby blue shirt. He hopes you'll notice.
"You're getting coffee too?"- you say, grabbing your cup, still avoiding to look at him, cursing those damn insects buzzing around in your stomach.
"Oh, yeah."- Felix accidentally zoned out again. He gulps when he notices that you're wearing those damn ripped jeans, they're so tight. He can't help his curious eyes as they flit towards the slight bulge in the middle, and he feels something coil in his stomach, his throat dry.
"I'll be in the office."- you break his stare and he gasps quietly, looking up at you. Thankfully, you were staring at your phone with your brows furrowed.
"Okay."- Felix nods as you spin on your heel and hurry across the room.
When he walks into the office, he notices it's just the two of you.
"Where is our team?"- Felix asks, sitting down and opening up his laptop.
"Changbin will be here shortly, around 10 I think. Jisung has a meeting. Minho has to work on another project today."- you say, checking the schedule as Felix admires your organization.
"So it's just the two of us."- you add quietly, and Felix catches a glimpse of a shy smile as you stare at your screen. His heart jumps, almost too hard, like it's leaping out towards you.
"Good. Okay. That's good."- Felix's leg bounces up from nervousness. You're already typing away and his eyes fall down to look at your hands.
That's when he notices it, a hair tye on your wrist. Now, that would be normal if it was a black one like you always wore, but this one is baby blue.
Is Felix imagining things or did you wear it on purpose because you know that that's his favorite color? His heart can't take the thought of that.
"Good morning, suckers!"- Jisung breaks the comfortable atmosphere, as you and Felix work while listening to some lofi hiphop mix.
"Morning, Ji."- Felix greets his coworker.
"Morning."- you say, not looking up from your laptop.
"It's not even 10 and I'm already exhausted."- Jisung rolls his eyes.
"Bad meeting?"- Felix asks, sipping on his sweet coffee.
"Bad client. Was on my ass the whole time. They bombarded me with messages last night! And then they found more shit to complain about this morning. Like I didn't have a whole sleepless week because of their project."- Jisung huffs, his nose scrunched up in disgust.
"Ah, I'm sorry Ji."- Felix says, and Jisung waves his hand.
"Minho's taking me on a little road trip this weekend so we good."- he smirks. "I just had to vent a little."
"Ooh, a road trip? That's so romantic."- Felix sighs, leaning his chin on his hand. You look up at him from your screen, his eyes shiny as he stares into the distance.
"When are you gonna get some?"- Jisung smirks.
Felix's face becomes as red as a tomato in record time when he hears you cough on the left of him.
"Anyways, I revised the last entry our client made. Should be able to upload the numbers into the database now."- you break the conversation and Felix can see your cheeks becoming rosy.
"Great work!"- Felix says, he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable and he definitely doesn't want Jisung talking about his non-existent sex life in front of you of all people.
"Thank you, Felix."- you smile, and Jisung looks up at the both of you.
Felix looks around, suddenly feeling like he's missing something.
"Oh! I forgot to bring my candy."- Felix whines and your eyes fall on his pouty, glossy lips. Images of you kissing that pout away run through your mind and your heart starts racing faster.
"Um... these are your favorite, right?"- you reach into your backpack and pull out a brand new bag of Felix's favorite candy. You have no idea what prompted you to do this but that damn bag of candy has been in your backpack for two whole weeks.
"Oh!"- Felix gasps, butterflies errupting in his stomach all the way to his chest where they flutter around his heart. "Yes, they are! You got them for me?"
"Well, yeah. I don't exactly have a sweet tooth."- you say, 'except for you', you think but bite your lip.
"That's... that's really nice of you. Thanks, y/n."- Felix is at a loss of words. "By the way, how's Dimples? Is he better?"
"Dimples?"- Jisung raises his eyebrow.
"My cat. Don't ask."- you shake your head and Felix giggles, and then cringes internally at himself.
"He was sick. And to answer your question, yes, he's good now. Back to normal. Zoomies and all."
"That's great news."- Felix smiles, feeling triumphant that he knows something more about you than your coworkers do.
Jisung observes the whole interaction, a knowing smirk on his face.
-
The project is almost done. Just a few more finishing touches. Felix fears that you'll go back to basically being strangers, passing by each other's desk when you go to get coffee.
The last week he's barely seen you, since you had no real need to come to the office. He's bummed and Jisung notices.
"Why so blue?"- he comes up to Felix. "Pun fully intended."- he motions towards Felix's blue sweater.
"I'm just tired."- the usual sparkle in his eyes is dim.
"It's y/n, isn't it? You've been ogling that man ever since the first day he walked into this building."- Jisung smirks. Damn him.
"What? I don't ogle. I... observe... and what's it to you anyways?"- Felix gets defensive, feeling embarassed that someone noticed his crush.
"Woah damn, I'm just worried about you. You don't seem like yourself these last few days."- Jisung points out.
"Sorry. I'm just worried... that we'll go back to being nothing. Not that we're anything special right now. But at least we talk. And I don't know, I- I like him a lot."
"Just like?"- Jisung smirks.
"Don't start, Ji."
"In my humble opinion, both of you are fucking idiots. Why don't you just talk to each other like normal grown-ups? If I never confessed to Minho, we wouldn't be enjoying our wonderful time together right now."
"Thanks, but no thanks."- Felix shakes his head making Jisung laugh. "I don't think he even looks at me that way."
"Oh so you're not just a coward, you're also blind."- Jisung snorts.
"Did you come here to insult me or comfort me?"- Felix smacks Jisung's arm.
"Ow! Both?"- Jisung rubs his arm. "You know what then? There's gonna be a party this weekend, more of a get-together actually. We will celebrate our project well done. That could be your chance to talk to y/n."- Jisung smirks.
"Ugh, I don't want to get intoxicated while trying to talk to him."- Felix cringes.
"Just two little drinks. To boost up your courage. What could go wrong?"
-
Everything. Everything can go wrong.
The evening starts out nicely, Felix put in even more effort to look pretty for you (even though you think he is beautiful always), his make up is sweet and sparkly, lips rosy and glossy. His outfit is cute too, hair in a half updo with a baby blue bow to top it all off.
You almost trip over nothing when you see him all dolled up like that, a bright smile on his face as he approaches you.
The two of you join Changbin, Minho and Jisung at a table. Everyone orders alcohol and everyone clinks their glasses together in the name of success and great teamwork.
There are more drinks sent to your table over and over again, you have no problems with that but Felix does. You're actually talking to him, probably buzzed from the alcohol and Felix tries to keep up with you, but he can't take all the alcohol well.
Pretty soon, the music seems distorted, the room is spinning and Felix's stomach churns.
You're talking about videogames you played in your childhood and as much as Felix enjoys this topic of conversation, he needs to tell you how he feels now.
"Y/n, there's something I have to- to tell you."- he hiccups, and you stop talking as you look at him. Felix swings a little, getting into your personal space and you can hear your heart hammering in your ears.
"Yeah?"- you say and he smiles a big dumb smile, his eyes closing as he starts chuckling.
Felix calms down after a few moments and opens his eyes.
"I'm-" - he starts and then his stomach betrays him as it rises up in his throat. And then everything is black.
-
Black covers. Posters on the wall. Figurines on the bookshelf. A cool lamp in the corner.
Felix squints as he looks around. No fucking way!
"Hey, you awake?"- your voice calls to him and he must be dreaming.
"What the hell?"- he whimpers as his head starts pounding.
You come closer to the bed and Felix looks up at you, still confused.
"You got shitfaced last night. Changbin left early. And then Jisung and Minho said they need to get something done but they never came back. I didn't really want to leave you alone so I brought you here. I hope that's okay."- you explain.
"Oh..."- Felix tries to remember what he did or said but his mind is blank. Then he notices he's wearing your shirt and he gasps.
"Oh my god... Did we...?"- he asks, heart pounding in his chest and your eyes widden, cheeks red in an instant.
"What?! No, no way. I mean not that I wouldn't want to... Just... Not like that... What am I even saying?"- you panic, and Felix can't believe what you just said.
"I'll go make you coffee."- you clear your throat. "Wait, I don't have any milk. Would you like a smoothie?"
"S-sure. Um... Did you change my clothes?"- Felix grips the blanket covering him.
"You puked all over them so..."
Oh that is so embarassing!, Felix curses himself as you disappear into the kitchen. How could he be so stupid and get so drunk that he didn't even remember anything?!
There is a lot he needs to process in this moment and he feels like his brain is not braining at all. He embarassed himself in front of you, he incovenienced you by making you take care of his stupid drunk ass, you literally saw him almost naked and not in the scenario he was imagining and now he's in your room. In your bed.
Everything around him smells like you and he's overwhelmed. Something stirs in his gut. God, please, not now!
"Hey, breakfast is done."- you appear in the doorway.
"Oh, I'll be right there. I just need to use the bathroom first."- you nod and show him where it is.
Your shirt is so big on him and he pulls it down even more, feeling exposed in his boxers. He makes his way to your bathroom and when he's done, he finds you in the kitchen. Your aparment is not too big but it's stylish and full of knick knacks that are just so you.
The sight of Felix in just your shirt makes your brain go haywire. His thighs look so plush and delicious, you just want to squeeze them.
"Um, do you have any pants I can wear?"- he asks as if he knew what you were thinking.
"Oh, right, sorry. I'll go find something."- you say, pushing the smoothie glass towards Felix.
"Thanks."- Felix whispers, he feels so awkward and his brain still can't wrap around the fact that he slept in your bed and that you made breakfast for him.
As he waits for you, he hears rustling to his right and he turns and sees your cat sniffing the air and checking him out.
"Oh, Dimples hello!"- Felix greets the cat, squatting down and beckoning him to come closer. Dimples shuffles towards him and after sniffing his hand, he immediately nuzzles into him.
"He likes you."- you say as you walk back in.
"I like him too."- Felix smiles up at you and you feel your face heat up.
"Here."- you give him some sweats to wear and he puts them on, having to tie them up tightly around his waist.
"So, how shitfaced did I get last night? I mean I don't remember anything, so I wanna know... What'd I say or do?"- Felix asks, already nervous. But it can't be that bad since you took him home and took care of him.
"Um... well..."- your face is beet red as you avoid Felix's eyes. Fuck, what did he do?
"You tried to... to kiss me."- you mumble and Felix freezes.
"Oh my god! Oh my god!"- he panics, his face falling into his hands. Felix wishes he could erase his entire existence in that moment. "I am so sorry! I don't know why I did that!"
"Really? Cause you also kinda told me that you're in love with me."- you deadpan.
Felix can't believe he fucked up this bad.
He feels like he could cry right now. And he probably will, his eyes are already watering and he buries his face as deep as he can into his palms.
"Felix? Are you crying?"- you ask cautiously, trying to look at him.
"No."- he says, his voice muffled. "Yes."- he adds, and looks up at you, a single tear streaming down his freckled cheek.
"Why are you crying?"
"Because I fucked everything up and I feel so embarassed. I literally dumped all my emotions on you and tried to kiss you. I would totally understand if you don't feel comfortable with me anymore."- Felix sniffles.
You stare at him for a few moments before you start chuckling. His eyes widden as he looks at you.
"You didn't fuck anything up. If I wasn't comfortable, I wouldn't bring you here, would I?"
"No?"- Felix shakes his head.
"Look, I turned you down becase you were drunk and I didn't want us to do something only to have you regret it in the morning. If I was ever gonna make a move on you, I'd do it while we're both sober, preferably."- you chuckle, your cheeks rosy again.
"You... what?"
"Even though I tried do deny it, I couldn't. I... like you too Felix."- you say. Felix thinks his hearing has gone bad or he's hallucinating.
"But, I would like for us to be friends first. I- I need time to warm up to people. If that's okay with you."
This is it. Almost seven months of fucking pining for you and daydreaming 24/7, you are the one to confess to Felix.
He can't help the huge smile spreading on his face.
"I'm totally okay with that! More than okay!"
-
As Felix comes to find out, you weren't joking when you said you need time to warm up to people.
It's been almost 6 months since he drunkenly confessed to you, and your relationship hasn't upgraded much since then. At times he feels like your cat likes him more than you do.
Yes, you hang out outside of work now but it is not that different to Felix than hanging out with his other friends.
He feels hopeless again, you never even talk about that day like it didn't even happen. Did you forget about what he said? Did you not like him as he likes you anymore? How does that just come up in a conversation?
Felix doesn't know how to ask you, he sits contemplating at his desk. He catches a glimpse of you, getting up and greeting Minho. He doesn't do it on purpose but he overhears a part of your conversation.
"...you know for our dinner party on Friday. I have a date for you if you don't wanna come alone."- Minho said.
"Oh, I'm kinda seeing someone so that wont be a problem."- you say. What?
"Ooh, I didn't know that! Who's the lucky guy?"- Minho smirks.
"You'll see on Friday."
What the hell? Felix's heart drops to his stomach. That's why you haven't made a move on him. You're seeing someone. He knows it's probably dramatic but at that moment he feels like his whole world is crashing down around him.
His vision blurs and he stands up abruptly, turning around and making his way to the bathroom quickly.
Much to his dismay, the bathroom is occupied and he's not about to cry in front of his coworkers. He runs into the first empty office and closes the door. Tears are already running down his cheeks, and he tries to calm himself down. He can't be caught crying like this at work.
To his horror, the handle turns and the door creaks open.
He slowly turns around, eyes already red from crying and ofcourse it has to be you.
"Felix?! Are you okay?"- your concerned face turns into a face full of confusion as you come closer to him.
"No, I'm not."- he shakes his head.
"What's wrong?"- you reach out to touch his shoulder but he avoids it.
"D-don't. You're seeing someone, I bet they wouldn't like seeing you touching someone else."
"What? What are you talking about?"- your brows furrow.
"I overheard your conversation with Minho. I didn't mean to eavesdrop but it happened."
"Oh that."- you sigh. "I was- I was talking about you."
"Me? Aren't we hanging out as friends?"- Felix asks, sniffling and wiping his tears off.
"Yeah but I thought we were clear with our feelings."- you say and Felix chuckles.
"Oh my god, I am so stupid."- he rolls his eyes in disbelief.
"Were you crying because you thought I was going out with someone else?"
"Maybe."- Felix says, embarassment settling in. "I didn't know if you liked me anymore."
"I guess I have to do something to convince you I do then."- you say, gently laying your hand on his cheek. You slowly lean in closer and Felix's eyes widden.
Is this really happening?
Felix's lips part and yours press your lips into his, they mold together like they were made for each other.
Both of you stay still for a moment, Felix's eyelashes and cheeks are still wet and you bring your other hand to his cheek and gently swipe your thumb over his skin. You start moving your lips against his, and oh my god, you are kissing him.
Felix melts into you, kissing you back with everything he has, hands grabbing at your arms to help him ground himself because at this point he feels like if he doesn't hold on he will float away.
You wanted to give him an innocent kiss just to show him that you do actually see him as more than a friend but the pent up emotions both of you had bubbling inside you started spilling out.
Your mind is racing, Felix's lips are so soft and plump, they taste like the strawberry lipgloss he wears, the candy he loves the most and the sugary coffee he drinks every morning. Under any other circumstances, this much sugar would make you puke but with Felix you couldn't get enough.
Your hand holds the back of his neck, other hand sliding down to his waist. Felix whines, lips parting more and you lick his bottom lip to ask for permission.
He lets you in and your tongues dance together as you keep tasting him, both of you are grabbing at each other desperately, Felix's hands gripping your shirt as you pull him in closer.
"Felix..."- you whisper on his lips before you lean in to kiss his jaw, his breathing gets shaky, fingers digging into the material of your shirt.
You're in a trance, he's intoxicating and you wonder why you haven't kissed him before. Your lips press below his ear and Felix whimpers quietly, head falling back to give you access.
You kiss the soft skin on his neck, his sweet perfume making your pants tighten.
"Y/n..."- Felix moans when you lick at his neck and bite down, sucking on his skin. Your hands grip his hips and you push your middle into his.
"Ahh!"- he moans, grabbing at your arms again.
You lean back and look at him, both of your eyes glazed over with lust.
Felix looks down at the obvious tent in your pants and gulps. You smirk and run your hands to the back of his thighs. He gasps as you lift him up on the table, his legs falling open for you to slot your hips between his.
"I want to make you feel good."- you whisper, leaning your forehead against his.
"Here?"- he swallows, glancing at the door.
"Right here."- you smirk, biting on your lip.
"Okay."- Felix is desperate, his hips are already lifting up towards you, his cock straining in his tight jeans.
You put your hands on his thighs, gently running them up and squeezing occasionally and Felix squirms. You unbutton and unzip his jeans, sliding them down slowly as he lifts his ass up.
His heart is beating so fast and he can't believe this is happening. He's been dreaming about you for so long, dreaming of giving himself to you, belonging to you in every sense of that word. He's more than ready to let you do whatever you want with him.
You hook your fingers in his boxers and slowly slide them down too. His cock springs up from the confines and you wrap your fingers around him, tip already leaking with precum.
Felix keens at the sight of your big hand wrapped around his cock and he ruts up into it.
"Someone's eager."- you smirk, thumbing his slit.
"Ahh- I'm sorry!"- he whimpers.
"Don't be, I think that's sweet."- you say, squeezing him a little.
"Mm..."- Felix grips at the end of the table.
You give his cock a few tugs, your other hand on his inner thigh, squeezing the flesh.
"Please, please, oh my god!"- Felix whines desperately pushing up into your hand. He's touch starved and thirsty for you, he can't take any teasing. You understand and drop down to your knees and he gasps as he looks at you.
"W-what are you doing?"- he whimpers as you gently fondle his balls, your other hand moving on his tip.
"I'm taking care of you. Just relax."- you whisper, leaning in closer and pressing your lips on the soft skin of his inner thigh.
Felix mewls, completely surrendering to your touch, his mind gone from the stimulation you're giving him. You cover his thighs with pretty love bites, hands working on his cock and balls. You think he looks so beautiful in this moment, head thrown back, tongue lolling out of his plump lips, fingers gripping at the table, his legs spread wide and his cock leaking just for you.
You need to taste him so you lean in and wrap your lips around his tip.
"Ah, fuck!"- Felix whimpers loudly, clamping his hand over his lips and glancing at the door.
You smirk around his cock and take more of him in your mouth. Felix's moans are muffled by his hand and you're not having it. You reach up and gently grab his arm tugging it down.
"I want to hear you."- you say, releasing him with a pop.
"B-but people-"
"I don't care. I want to hear how good I'm making you feel."- you look at him, eyes dark with lust and Felix whimpers, his cock twitching.
"Okay."- he nods and you take him in your mouth again, your hands roaming whatever part of his body you can reach. He gives in completely, leaning his body into you, lifting his legs up and pressing his heels into the table so you have full access to him.
You bob your head on him faster, no gag reflex as you practically swallow his smaller cock, the salty taste of his precum sweet on your tongue.
"Ah, y/n, I'm close!"- Felix whines, trying to push you away but you grab his hands, intertwining your fingers with his as you speed up even more.
His legs start shaking, heart beating hard against his chest, his thoughts are swimming with only you as he looks down at you. You may be kneeling in front of him, but to him you look demanding and authoritative as you play with his body.
It's like your eyes full of lust, lips wrapped around him and hands squeezing the flesh of his thighs are ordering him to cum for you. Whines of pleasure keep spilling from his lips, body shaking as he spasms and cums hard down your throat. You swallow almost all of it, savoring the taste of him.
You lift up immediately and grab his head, crashing your lips into his, tongue pushing into his mouth so you can make him taste himself.
Felix moans into your lips, eyes rolling back as he swallows some of his cum mixed with your saliva.
"Fuck."- you lean back, looking at him darkly.
"Fuck indeed."- Felix nods, still breathless.
"What about you?"- he asks, looking down at the bulge in your pants.
"S'okay. Don't worry about me. Next time."- you say as you caress his cheek gently.
"Are you sure? I want to please you."- he says and you just want to eat him up in that moment.
"You already did."- you smile and lean in, capturing his lips, giving him a kiss more gentle than the ones before.
"You free on Friday?"- you ask and Felix nods fervently.
"Great. I'll pick you up."- you say and give him another peck.
-
Felix must be having some sort of out-of-body experience as he gets ready on Friday. He still can't believe what happened in the office two days ago and he can't stop thinking about it.
Every time he remembers the way you looked at him, the way you handled him and the way you made him cum, he wants to giggle and kick his feet. He feels so giddy as he puts his outfit together, thinking how after dinner you'll take it off of him, his face gets red just from the images running through his mind.
You pick him up at 6:30, he sits in the passenger seat of your car and you lean in immediately and peck his lips.
"You look pretty."- you tell him, your stomach swarming with butterflies but by now you've decided to just go with the feeling.
"T-thank you. You look handsome."- Felix smiles sweetly at you, his cheeks rosy.
God, he'll be the death of you.
You arrive at Minho and Jisung's shared apartment on time and as soon as Jisung sees the two of you enter together, he yells.
"Aha! I fucking knew it! You owe me money, Changbin."- Jisung smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at his coworker.
Changbin groans in annoyance at him but smiles at the two of you.
"You two finally pulled your heads out of your asses, huh?"- Minho asks and Felix smacks his arm.
"Please, shut up!"- Felix whines, both of your faces red.
Your coworkers/friends don't stop teasing you throughout dinner anyways but you don't care anymore. Your attention is on Felix only, and he looks so pretty tonight, so delicate and sweet.
There's a growing need in the pit of your stomach, burning a fire inside your heart. You want him so bad.
"Hey, you wanna leave?"- you lean in to whisper in his ear as Jisung talks about some funny mishap that happened on a date with Minho.
"Oh, you wanna go home already?"- Felix looks at you, disappointment flashing in his eyes.
"No, I wanna take you home. To my house, I mean."- you say, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.
"Oh... Oh! Okay! I want to!"- Felix says, cursing himself for acting so eager like he's desperate (he is).
"Well, this was fun and all but we gotta go. I have somewhere to be in the morning and Felix is sleepy, right?"- you look at him and Felix plays along, faking a yawn.
"Y'all can just say you wanna go home and fuck."- Jisung smirks.
"I'm never coming to your dinner party ever again."- Felix throws a piece of bread at Jisung, face red in embarassment and Jisung just laughs obnoxiously.
-
As soon as the two of you walk into your apartment, Dimples runs towards you meowing loudly and butting his head into yours and Felix's legs.
"He's hungry. As if I didn't feed the little gremlin before I went out tonight."- you shake your head, a fond smile dancing across your lips.
Felix chuckles and follows you into the kitchen.
"You want something to drink?"- you ask, after feeding your cat.
"No, thanks."- Felix says, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. Why does he feel so awkward suddenly? You must be feeling awkward too, as silence settles between the two of you.
Felix screams at himself on the inside, willing himself to make a move but you beat him to it as you step closer to him, cornering his body into the kitchen bar.
"Oh"- he gasps a little as he looks up at you.
"I know I said this before but you look so pretty tonight. I love the sparkles on your eyes. And the bow in your hair. It's very sweet."- you compliment him like it's nothing and Felix melts, his face turning into a tomato.
"T-thank you. I- I dressed up for you."- he says quietly, voice wavering at the end.
"You did, hm?"- you smirk, bringing your hand to his waist, your fingers brushing the exposed skin where his crop top rode up.
"Yeah."- Felix nods, his eyes fluttering as you caress his face and hold his waist. He leans into your hand and you lean closer to his candy lips.
"Can I kiss you?"- you whisper, breath hitting his skin.
"Please."- he says, relief painted in his deep voice.
You crash your lips into his, wasting no time for an intro as you pour all your passion into it. Felix becomes putty in your hands immediately, opening his mouth so you can explore him with your tongue.
You keep kissing, hands roaming all over each other before you hear Dimples meowing on the right. You part, chuckling and looking at the little cockblocker.
"Let's go to my room."- you say and Felix shivers, nodding as you grab his hand.
Dimples makes himself comfy on the couch and you pull Felix into your room, closing the door behind you.
"Now where were we?"- you smirk, hands tangling into Felix's soft hair.
"You were kissing me."- Felix smirks back at you and you chuckle, leaning in to kiss his neck. Felix's arms wrap around your waist as he leans his head back into your hand. You craddle his head and bite down hard on his skin, sucking a love mark into it.
"Mm..."- Felix moans, pushing his hips into you.
Your kisses keep getting more and more heated, your hands sliding down his back to grip his plush ass. You both stumble towards the bed, your back colliding with the shelf next to it, the figurines displayed on it rattling from the impact.
"Let me..."- Felix whispers before he kneels down, hands on your jeans button. You nod and he opens it up, unzipping them and sliding them down.
Felix's hand ghosts over your bulge tentatively and you push your hips towards his face. He can see that you're big and his cock twitches in his pants as he squeezes you through your boxers.
"Take them off."- you say and Felix complies immediately, fingers hooking in your underwear. As soon as he pulls it down your cock springs out slapping his face.
"Sorry."- you chuckle and Felix groans as he feels precum pooling in the panties he wore for you.
Fuck, you're so big! Felix prays to all the gods that he can fit you in his mouth somehow. His small hand wraps around the base of your cock, the tip of his tongue playing with your slit.
You can't wait anymore, you want to fuck his pretty face and see him gag on your dick.
"Open your mouth."- you order and Felix's eyes glaze over with lust as he opens his mouth for you. Your hand holds his head as you slowly push in, just the tip and a little more.
Felix moans around you immediately, eyes fluttering as he starts bobbing his head up and down, taking more and more of you each time.
"Fuck."- you look at him, his plump lips wrapped around you, his lipgloss staining your cock.
You grip his hair and Felix whines around you pushing himself to take more as his hand works the rest of it, he leans towards you and gags, tears gathering in his eyes. He looks so perfect with his mouth full of your cock.
"Ah, fuck. Just like that baby. You're doing so good."- you praise him, and Felix knows he's done for. His cock throbs for attention and he starts moving faster, sucking you off with everything he has, taking as much as he can, gagging and crying as he gives it his all.
You're close but you don't want to cum yet. Not until you've fucked him, so you pull him off of you and he whines, tongue chasing after your cock.
"Patience, baby."- you smirk at the state of him. He looks completely disheveled, his makeup is ruined and his cheeks are red, eyes dark with lust.
"P-please..."- he coughs a little.
"Tell me what you want."- you lean down to look at him, your hand still tangled in his hair.
"Touch me, please."- he begs.
"Get on the bed."- you say, helping him up and he obeys, laying down on your fluffy blanket. You kneel between his legs, hovering over him and Felix is so excited, reality feels so much better than all his imagination.
Your hands slide on his body and you take his top off, fingers play with his sensitive nipples as you kiss each and every freckle you find on his skin.
You take his pants off and your eyes darken with want when you see what he had on under them the whole time.
"Do you like it?"- Felix asks, batting his long eyelashes at you as your finger plays with the lacy hem on his panties.
"I love it."- you lick your lips, hands grabbing his thighs so you can push his legs up and keep them open for you.
"You're so hard and wet just from sucking my cock, hm?"- you ask, palming him hard without warning.
"Ahh!"- Felix moans, hands gripping at the blanket, hips lifting up into you.
"Mm yes, y/n."- he whines and you smirk, gripping at his panties. Felix looks down just in time to see you ripping them in half.
"Oh!"- he gasps and you grab his cock, giving it a few tugs.
"I want full access."- you smirk, grabbing the ruined panties and throwing them somewhere behind you.
"You have it."- Felix whispers, mind racing from the thought that he's finally at your mercy.
His knees are pressed to his shoulders and you grab a bottle of lube from your night stand drawer.
"Stop me at any time, okay? We don't have to do anything you don't want."- you say, caressing the back of his thigh gently.
"Okay."- he nods and you open the lube bottle, coating your fingers in it generously, letting it warm up a little before you press your fingertips on his fluttering hole.
"A-ah, y/n!"- Felix whines as you circle your fingers on his entrance.
You slowly start pushing in, meeting a little resistence as you bury your fingers into him. His eyes roll back and his cock twitches as you keep pushing in.
"You're sucking my fingers in."- you say and Felix whines in embarassment, it's been too long since anyone touched him or talked to him like that.
He covers his face with his hands as you start moving your fingers and curling them to hit the sweet spot inside him.
"You okay?"- you ask, hand coming up to touch his.
"Yeah, just embarassed."- Felix answers, peeking at you from between his fingers.
"Of what?"- you ask, slowing your fingers down.
"Just embarassed for myself in advance because I haven't done this in a long time and I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing."- Felix says as he moves his hands away.
"You don't have to do anything. Just keep your legs open like that and I'll do all the work. Your task is to enjoy and let me hear how much you're enjoying."- you smirk and press into his sweet spot.
"Oh!"- Felix shivers. "O-okay... Ah, whatever you want, y/n."- his head falls to the side as you keep hitting that spot over and over again, moans spilling from his pretty lips.
His legs start shaking and his cock twitches as you add another finger, stretching his tight little hole as you keep pushing deeper and faster.
"Oh my god!"- Felix whines but before he can cum, you pull your fingers out and he fists the blanket in frustration.
"Why'd you stop?"- he almost cries.
"I can't wait any longer. I need to be inside you."- you say, grabbing a condom you took out with the lube.
Felix looks down at your cock and gulps. He hopes he'll be able to take it, he wants to take it. He wants you so bad that he is willing to work extra hard just fo fit your dick inside him.
You roll the condom on, lubing up again because you really don't want to hurt Felix, you want to see him get lost in pleasure.
You rub your tip on his hole and Felix mewls, holding the backs of his thighs and looking down at your tip teasing him.
"You ready?"- you ask.
"Yes."- Felix nods and you slowly start pushing your cock into him.
His eyes roll back as you stretch him and you look down, biting your lip at the sight of his hole sucking your cock in.
Felix's eyes are closed and he lifts his hand up, blindly reaching out for you. You immediately grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, your other hand squeezing the back of his thigh.
He's whimpering so you stop and let him adjust for a moment.
"You okay?"- you ask, leaning down to look at his face, his nose scrunched up and brows furrowed.
"Yeah, it's just... I've never taken a cock this big."- he admits sheepishly and your face heats up, and the blood rushes down again making you impossibly hard.
"Oh yeah? You're doing so well, though."- you smirk, pushing the rest of your cock slowly inside him. Felix whines, gripping your hand and the blanket. Fuck, you're even bigger than in his fantasies and his whole body starts shivering with anticipation.
He looks at you, his eyes shining and you start moving slowly.
"Ah, you're so tight baby."- you say, hips moving in a rhythmic motion and Felix whimpers at the way you talk to him.
He feels so warm and tight, stretching just enough to have you fit snuggly into him, his flesh molding around your cock like it was made for you.
"You're taking me so well."- you praise him again, hips moving faster. His cock twitches at the praise and you smirk leaning down to kiss his neck, collarbone and play with his nipples.
"Ah, y/n!"- he moans as you circle one of his nipples with your tongue. Your hand ghosts over his thigh to his neglected cock and you grab him, moving your hand in time with your thrusts.
"F-fuck, oh god!"- Felix stutters out, his hips jerking up into your hand.
"Feels good, huh?"- you ask, fucking him harder, your cock hitting his g-spot.
"So good! So good!"- Felix cries out, holding your hand in a death grip but you don't care about that. All you care about is making him feel good.
"Please, faster!"- he whines.
"Faster?"- you tease, slowing down a little, your hand squeezing his cock, thumb sliding over his slit.
"P-please... please fuck me faster, y/n!"- he begs with tears in his eyes and you comply, hips snapping into his ass faster and harder.
Felix is a mess under you, he can't think anymore, all he can feel is you everywhere around him, above him and inside him. His free hand grabs at your shoulder, he wants to feel you even closer to him. You lean down and kiss him, swallowing the moans that are spilling from his pretty lips.
You release his cock for a moment, pressing down on his stomach where there's a bulge showing.
"Ah, you're in my guts."- Felix whimpers as he looks down at your hand.
"You like that, don't you?"- you grip his thighs and start fucking him harder again.
"Like being filled up with cock, hm?"- you say, watching Felix fall apart when you talk to him like that.
"Yes, yes I do!"- he moans loudly, your hips snapping into his hard again, hand working on his cock.
"Good boy."- you praise and the sound that comes from his lips sounds almost animalistic as his cock twitches in your hand. He's on the edge of his high, you can see that.
"My good boy."- you repeat and that's all it takes for Felix to explode all over himself while moaning your name. The sight of him shaking while you milk his cock dry brings you to your edge and you finish inside the condom, your hips stuttering and cock buried deep inside Felix's ass.
"Oh god."- he whimpers when you slowly pull out, taking off the condom.
Felix's vision is blurred from tears of pleasure and he brings his hands up to wipe them away.
"You okay?"- you hover over him.
"Yeah. Just need a moment."- he smiles at you and you lean down to kiss his forehead, your lips lingering on his hot skin.
"Where are you go-"
"Just relax, I'm gonna bring you some water and clean you up, okay?"- you brush your knuckles on his cheek gently and he nods.
Felix feels blissed out, eyes searching around your room as his legs finally relax. He hears rustling in the kitchen and you talking to Dimples, and he smiles to himself. He could get used to this.
You come back to your room, this time leaving the door ajar. Felix looks at you as you gently clean him up, his hair and makeup is ruined and you chuckle fondly as you take him in.
"What?"- he asks sheepishly.
"You're adorable."- you say and his face heats up.
"Shut up."- Felix whines in embarassment, covering his face with his hands and you laugh, leaning down and kissing his knuckles gently.
Dimples walks into the room, meowing curiously at the two of you right as you slip under the covers with Felix, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your chest. He sighs and relaxes into you, his eyelids fluttering.
Dimples jumps up at the foot of the bed and curls up next to you.
"Is that Dimples?"- Felix asks, voice laced with sleep.
"Mhm."- you mutter, moving his hair out of his face and leaning down to kiss his cheek gently.
"Go to sleep, baby."- is the last thing Felix hears before he drifts off into dreamland.
-
The whole next week both you and Felix are walking around the office on cloud 9, and Jisung's constantly teasing the both of you like the annoying little shit that he is.
But nothing can ruin Felix's mood when he comes to the office in the morning and finds his favorite candy waiting for him at his desk. He smiles and sits down, eyes searching for you.
You're at your desk, deep into your screen and Felix wants to get up and greet you but he gets a notification from you.
He clicks on the message and sees a link and next to it: 'download and play this game. it's rlly short, you'll love it (hopefully)'. His eyebrows shoot up in excitement as he clicks on the link.
It downloads fast since it's short and he clicks on the candy icon, realizing it's his favorite candy, the one you leave for him on his desk every day.
When the game opens up, it says 'made by y/n for felix' and his heart leaps out of his chest. He clicks on the play button and is greeted by a little 2D pixelated world bursting with cute pastel colors, and a little character that looks exactly like him. Down to all the details, the bow he sometimes puts in his hair, the sparkly make up, freckles, his favorite blue shirt. He gasps and starts moving with the character, jumping over obstacles.
Huge pieces of his favorite candy start rolling into the screen and he obtains the ability to double jump so he can avoid getting hit by the candy.
He manages to get to the gate at the end and when he clicks on them, the door opens up and a character that looks exactly like you walks out, a cat following behind you.
A bubble pops up and it says: "you've obtained a boyfriend (and a cat)! how do you wish to proceed?" and there are two options under it that say 'keep playing' and 'quit'. Felix clicks on 'keep playing' and the screen fills up with hearts, candy and Mister Dimples, all of it exploding before his eyes until it shows yours and his character holding hands.
Felix is melting and smiling brightly, his face red and you get up, making your way towards his table. Felix looks up at you and you smile at him, leaning down, one hand on his table and the other around the back of his chair.
"That- that was so cute! I don't know what to say!"- Felix almost cries, in disbelief that you actually made a game to ask him to be your boyfriend.
"Just let me kiss you."- you say, your hand coming up to hold his chin, tilting his head up.
"Yes, please!"- Felix whimpers a little and you smirk leaning down to kiss his sweet lips.
"Meet me in the empty office before lunch."- you whisper in his ear and Felix nods, his stomach exploding with butterflies.
-
Felix didn't know what exactly to expect in the empty office but he didn't expect to be bended over the table, hands tied with his own shirt, your cock buried deep inside him.
"Ah fuck! Y/n, oh my god!"- Felix almost yells as you keep hitting his sweet spot repeatedly.
"Shh baby, you don't want anyone to come in and interrupt us."- you say, your big hand splayed on his lower back as you press him down.
"No, I don't."- he quickly shakes his head.
"You want me to keep fucking you, right?"
"Yes, yes please!"- Felix begs desperately as you halt your movements.
"Then just be quiet for me and take it, okay?"- your grip his tied wrists.
"Mm, yes."- Felix moans quietly and you start fucking him hard again, hands grabbing at his plush ass, hips and his pretty waist.
Felix's hands are balled into fists, and he bites his lip, almost drawing blood as he tries hard to keep his moans in.
"I'm close, I'm close!"- he whines.
"You wanna cum for me?"
"Please, let me cum for you!"- Felix whimpers, tears sliding down his cheeks.
"You can cum."- you say and he explodes immediately, cumming untouched as your name spills from his lips like a prayer.
"What a good boy."- you praise him and feel him melt under you as you thrust harder into him, chasing your release and cumming into the condom.
You pull out and lean down, caressing his back.
"Lix? You okay?"- you ask.
"I've been fucked hard."- he says and you chuckle, fingers coming up to play with his hair. "But yeah, I'm okay. More than okay. If you could just untie me now."- he giggles and you smirk.
"Hmm, should I just keep you tied up like this?"- you tease and he whines.
"Alright, alright. I'm just joking."- you say, untying his hands and helping him lift up.
After you both clean up and get dressed, Felix grabs at your shirt and pulls you in closer.
"Wanna eat lunch together?"- you ask, craddling his head in your hands, fingers tangled in his hair.
"Yeah but before we leave the office, I wanna ask something."- Felix says.
"Yeah sure, anything."- you nod, caressing him as he wraps his arms around your waist.
"Did you wear the baby blue hair tye on purpose?"- you didn't expect that question and you didn't expect him to notice that.
"Oh... that... Well, yeah. You always wear baby blue and I liked looking at it while I was working from home or away from you. It was kinda comforting."- you confess and Felix's face morphs into a beautiful smile, his eyes sparkling more than ever.
"I love you."- he blurts out and then gasps as your eyes widden.
Your heart actually hurts from the love bursting inside you in that moment, and you grip Felix tightly.
"I love you."- you say, leaning your forehead on his and Felix visibly melts in your arms. You love him! He can die happy now!
You lean in, kissing the candy lips you became addicted to.
Who cares if you get cavities?
✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg
(y'all I actually wanna make the game mc makes for felix ahsjslsl)
525 notes · View notes
luvwestwood · 8 months
Text
"Working Overtime" - Toji Fushiguro
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4,469 words.
warnings. nsfw (18+), toji is your boss, escort reader, thigh riding, p in v, spitting, toji rails you on a balcony, exhibitionism?, toji fucks you on a pile of money, mention of size difference, hair pulling, eye contact, oral sex (f receiving), creampie, praising, light aftercare
notes. corporate girlie by day, escorting by night. out of all people, who knew your own boss had to be tonights client? (ok but wealthy toji is such a refreshing experience from broke homeless smelly ass toji.)
art used is by @/yunonoai
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Being able to say you work under Mr. Fushiguro meant that you were gifted of some kind. Just having the privilege to do so puts you on top of others in society.
Toji Fushiguro himself possessed a different category of wealth. Any high-rise building you walk into in the whole of New York, you could be 99.9% sure that he owns it.
Five star hotels, bars of any kind, and award-winning Michelin restaurants. Oh, you name it. This was his world and we were just living in it.
On the other hand, the Fushiguro company's pay was decent. Working conditions were way above standard. It was a luxury to work in his office, but knowing you, it just wasn't enough.
You needed more than that. Which is why you took up escorting, suggested by your best-friend one night while the two of you were intoxicated by liquor. She told you that you had the looks, the bod, and a personality anyone would die for. And lastly, you were captivating - you could have anything your way.
At first you took it as a joke. Thinking she was just being a lick ass. But surprisingly you had tried it out not long after the idea was proposed, and you ended up making almost double your annual net salary in just four months. This night job was a secret that only you and your best-friend knows about.
Of course, you worked on the weekends. Choosing to work Monday to Thursday would’ve been self sabotage.
You had more than enough money to buy whatever you want, send your mom on holiday, and you were always on top of rent. Your corporate job was just something to get through the day with rather than rotting at home.
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During shifts, you and the other escorts would hang around in the night club changing rooms. Most of the girls were also strippers in the same club, but that wasn’t really your thing. So you just stayed with escorting. Your manager would just assign each of you clients, unless someone has personally booked you in.
Speaking of which, a voice came from the door frame. “Star, you have a client tonight. 9PM.” Star wasn’t your real name, it was just a fake one that you used while you escorted. It was safer, and most of the other girls did the same.
You look at Geto, your boss, in the reflection of the vanity mirror. Busy polishing up your eyeliner, you try your best not to poke yourself in the eye. “Name? And did he obey my no-home rule?”
As an escort, you did have some rules for your own service. You figured you’ve been doing this for quite a reasonable amount of time, so you made a personal rule where you’d refuse to go to a clients house. For safety reasons.
“Goes by the name.. uh… Eznin? And he did indeed. Seems like he booked in for the Ritz Carlton on 25 West. Think he’s a first time client too.” He reads the details off his tablet.
Of course, it just had to be one of Fushiguros hotels. You literally couldn’t escape that man.
The other girls in the room purred, “Aren’t you lucky.. Seems like he has money, don’t ya think?” Meimei takes a puff of her cigarette, looking at you in the mirror aswell for a response. “Maybe check for an expensive watch? I’d take it if I were you.”
“Not funny, Meimei.” She was known for stealing from her clients, you never knew how she got away with it. It even got so bad to the point that she sp¡ked a client, taking his wallet afterwards.
Getting up from the chair, you made your way behind the dressing divider, shimmying your robe off to slide on a dark blue lingerie set. Over it, you wore a simple black dress. I mean, you could never go wrong with a little black dress.
Throwing on some matching strappy heels, you stuffed your purse with some condoms and lube. And a plan B, of course.
“Your rides sorted,” Geto stood back from the door frame. “I’ll text you any further details.”
“Copy,” after spritzing on some perfume, you made your way out of the club.
An all-black SUV was waiting for you outside the entrance. Your favourite driver, Todo was standing beside the car door, smiling as you approached him.
“Hi, Todo.” You smiled as he held the door open.
“You look wonderful miss.” Todo smiles back before closing the door, walking around to the drivers side.
The car drives on, and as you were securing a secret mic in your purse, (for safety reasons but the client never knows) Todo speaks.
“Ah- Miss, not sure if I should disclose this information but your client tonight is.. very wealthy.” His leather covered hands clutch onto the wheel. “I’d be more demanding if I were you, make the most of it.”
Breaking out into a laugh, you stop fiddling with your bag, to look at him in the rear view mirror. “..Is that so?”
“Yeah… thought I might let you know.” He grins, bringing the car to a stop. Todo quickly scurries out of the vehicle before you could, opening the door for you.
“Thanks for the ride, Todo.” You slipped a $20 bill in his hand. “I’ll text you when I’m finished.”
He nods, getting back into the car as you made your way inside of the hotel.
Checking your phone for updates, Geto sent you a text with all the details around five minutes ago.
Eznin Caln 30 years old, Net worth- $307,473,297 Floor number 43, he’ll let you in.
You walked over to the elevators, luckily one was already open. Taking a look at the buttons panel, you looked for a 43. Noticing it was the last highest button, you raised an eyebrow before pressing it.
Clutching onto the straps of your purse, the doors closed. You could only look at yourself in the metal reflection, taking a few deep breaths. Of course, you made sure to send a text back to Geto to let him know you were at the hotel.
Although you were decently experienced in this job, you’d still get nervous each time you were about to meet your clients.
Setting down the fly aways in your hair, the elevator came to a halt.
*Ding!*
The metal doors opened before your eyes. Hesitant, you walked inside, the bottom of your heels tapping against the wooden floors.
“..Hello?” You peeked inside the other rooms in the penthouse, one being a mini office that seemed like someone was just there, the other being a bedroom with big windows and a balcony, overlooking the city.
A deep voice spoke behind you. “Can I help you?”
You gasp, clutching onto your chest as you turned around. “I’m so sorr- Mr. Fushiguro?!”
Your eyes widened, and his mouth wide open. He was only in a towel wrapped around his waist, his dark hair wet from a fresh shower. You couldn’t help but ogle the drops of water that decorated his muscular body.
“…Are you.. the escort?”
Unable to form words, you swallowed your spit before speaking. “I.. I am.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking down at the ground.
“Alright, make yourself comfortable.” He eyed you up and down, a mini towel in his hand to dry his hair. “Sorry you have to see me like this, excuse me while I put some clothes on.”
Is he not going to question anything?..
Your breath hitched, God, did he know I was eyeing him? “Okay..”
He turned around to go back to the bathroom, but looked over his shoulder as he was doing so. “Just call me Toji, we’re outside of work.”
You watched as Toji continued to walk away, “Well.. I’m basically working, aren’t I.” you muttered under your breath, making sure he doesn’t hear.
Looking around, you remembered that he owned this hotel. I should’ve known when I was going to the 43rd floor, he doesn’t let anyone in here.
You walked over to his bedroom, it was bigger than your own apartment. The sheets were neatly made, and a bottle of Malbec sat on a table near the window.
Placing your purse on small sofa, you removed your jacket, neatly folding it over the arm rest aswell.
You made your way to his closet, in search for a white robe. There was a robe on the hanger beside his freshly dry cleaned suits. You took it out, tracing your fingers over “The Ritz-Carlton” that was embroidered onto the front in cursive.
Sliding your dress off, you covered yourself in the robe, only the dark blue lingerie set underneath. Afterwards you tied a knot around your waist with the belt. Kicking off your heels, you placed them inside the closet, along with your dress that was neatly folded.
Although you were an escort, you made sure to clean up after yourself. You hated leaving a mess around, so you respected your clients by making sure to leave the place clean.
You could hear Toji walk into the bedroom. Closing the doors of the closet, you turned to him, and he was already busy getting the wine bottle open with a corkscrew.
Taking a seat on the armchair in front of him, causing you to be at crotch level with Toji. You watched as his arms flex each time he handled the bottle.
You noticed Toji was in a more relaxed outfit. He wore a dark grey cotton longsleeve that sculpted over his muscles like paint, with bottoms in a matching colour and fabric.
“Toji,” you called out his name.
The pouring of the wine stopped, his fingers gently pushing the glass towards you. “Hmm?”
Taking the glass by the stem, you twisted it between your fingers. “Do you regularly hire escorts?”
Toji walked over to the edge of the bed, sitting down. He sighed, looking at the city view in front of him. “No,” taking a sip, he continued. “This is my first time, actually.”
You did the same, but taking a tinier sip. You didn’t want to be tipsy while carrying out your service. It was too dangerous. “..Oh.”
Looking back at Toji, he was busy staring at the red liquid swirling around in the glass. “I dont even really know how they work.”
As you were about to take another sip, you paused. Your eyes looked at him over the rim of the glass, before placing it back down on the table.
“You can just do whatever you want with me, really.” You crossed your legs, exposing the bare skin on your thigh to him.
"I see," he nods, slightly leaning back onto the bed, using his hands for support.
"So, you made up your mind yet?" you got up from the arm chair, making your way to Toji who was on the bed. "What you wanna do?" You stood yourself between his legs, as he tried his best to hold himself back from pulling on the knot that was holding your entire robe together.
Toji's hands rested on your hips on top the robe, dangerously close to your ass. He made sure to bring you closer to him, almost pressing your chest to his face at this point. "I don't know," His free hand tugged on the knot of the belt, slowly unraveling it until the robe slid off your body. "Maybe you, if that's an option."
He could feel his cock strain against his pants as he took in the sight of you in nothing but lingerie, it felt like he was opening a present on his birthday. Blue was his favorite color.
You choked on your words at his response, he sure did have a way with his words. "I don't usually allow that, but maybe I'll let it slide tonight."
Toji caressed your wet lip with his thumb, gradually sliding it inside of your mouth as you sucked on it gently. He stops and moves you to the side by the waist, getting up from the bed.
Confused, you stay standing in front of the bed, watching Toji as he grabs something from the drawer. He eventually makes his way back onto the bed, but this time, leaning his head back against the head-board.
Toji takes out his wallet, pulling a $20 bill out and placing it on the nightstand beside him. "..Crawl over to me."
Your lashes flutter as you watched him place the bill on the night stand, you could only obey what he asked you to do. 'I'm just doing my job.. this doesn't mean anything. He will forget about this.' You constantly chanted this in your thoughts, completely disregarding the fact that he was your boss.
You crawled onto the bed, and slowly to him. Toji's eyes watched you closely making sure to tell you, "Stop," as you were just about to crawl onto his lap.
He takes out another $20 bill from his wallet, this time, two. Toji gently raised his knee, just enough for it to rub against your warm cunt that was covered by the lace panties. "Ride my leg, until I tell you to stop."
Aroused, which you are not meant to be, you couldn't help but sink yourself down onto his leg. Part of you wanted this, but you did at good job at not showing it.
You slowly started to move your hips back and forth on his lower thigh, placing both of your hands down in front of you for support. Toji's hardened cock begging to come out as he watched you closely.
If you were to lift up his top, you’d be able to see his leaking top peeking out of his waistband. The straps of your bra slowly fell down off your shoulders. Toji could almost groan at this lewd sight in front of him.
"Good girl," He did his best to hold himself back from holding onto your hips, "Keep going."
A spot on the fabric of his pants turned into a darker grey than before, your slick making its way through your panties. Nothing can be done.
Breathy moans started to crawl out of your throat, Toji noticing as you started to grind on his leg harder and slightly faster. "Stop."
You whimpered quietly as Toji retracted his leg from underneath you, observing the newly made wet spot on his pants. "Look at this mess you made all over me.."
Speechless, and breathless, you fell back onto your heels in front of Toji, he took another bill out, but this time $50.
"..I want that bra off." He slaps the bill onto the growing pile on the nightstand, followed by another 50. But he doesn't take his eyes off you. "And the panties. They're kinda annoying me now."
Doing exactly as he said, Toji's hand rested on his crotch, aching to palm himself through his pants. You slowly, but teasingly unclasped your bra, Toji clearing his throat by the time your tits were finally on display to him.
Followed by your soaked underwear, which at this point was no use. They managed to fly across the bedroom, hanging off a small statue that was on top of a console table.
He just wanted to wrap his mouth around each of them, or even motorboat your titties.
Toji propped himself up in a less relaxed position. "Lie down on your back, legs spread."
Your last sight was him before you fell back on to the bed, your head nearly hanging off the edge. Toji noticed your nipples hardened as soon as your skin made contact with the cold satin sheets. You felt the weight of the bed shift around, as Toji grabbed both of your legs by the thighs, positioning his head between them.
Squirming about, Toji peppered kisses on your inner thighs, his large hand wrapped around one of them. Wasting no time, he went straight to sucking and softly biting on your folds, using his tongue to lap at your bud until it was swollen. Moaning into your pussy, he softly massaged the flesh of your thigh, the vibrations from his grunts adding more to your stimulation.
Busy sucking away, wet noises from his tongue and the slick of your dripping pussy echoing throughout the bedroom. His hand reached behind him, then slowly went back over his shoulder. It was a $100 bill, tucked between his index and middle finger.
You were too busy hanging your head off the edge of the bed in pleasure, grabbing the sheets beside you and wrinkling them as Toji devoured you like he hasn't eaten for weeks.
The paper bill fell onto your stomach, tickling you slightly. You could feel Toji spit onto your pussy, the saliva trickling down almost into your hole before he slurped it back up, sticking his fingers in there instead. You felt them slide into you with ease, Toji swirling his warm tongue around on your clit.
"O-oh God.. To..ji." You managed to choke out a moan, your manicured hands clawing at his hair and eventually messing it up.
Letting go of your thigh, he used his now free hand to fondle with your breasts eagerly, twisting your nipples between his fingertips before giving them a slap.
One last lick on your clit, Toji removed his head between your legs, this time his whole body kneeling between them. You sneakily push up against him, his bulge through his pants grazing against your bare cunt.
Using your strength to lift your head from the edge of the bed, you watched as he took off his shirt, letting it fall onto the floor. Its neckline was soaked from eating you out earlier, but we don't talk about that.
Panting, his hands frantically rummage through his wallet. You noticed it was still bulky, as if the previous cash he pulled out didn't make any difference to the amount he had now.
Toji pulled out $1000 all in 20 bills, your eyes widening, wondering if he was serious.
"Please.. let me fuck you." Toji also sat back on his heels, $1000 in his hands as you were underneath him, fully naked. He just wanted to indulge himself in you, and if he could, he'd make this night last forever.
You slowly nodded, honestly begging to having his cock inside of you too. Before you knew it, your vision was filled with the $1000 raining down onto your body, and by your sides on the bed. He quickly pulled his bottoms down to his knees, before realising they were too annoying. He proceeds to fully kick them off.
Toji glances around the room for a condom, before you stopped him. "..Is it okay if we don't use one? ..I want to feel every inch of you."
You read his mind. "Anything you want, gorgeous."
His large hands shuffled through the pile of cash that was over your body, making sure that he could still see your tits and your beautiful face.
One hand grabbed onto your waist, and the other was used to align the tip of his cock with your hole. As soon as he slightly pushed the tip in, both of his hands were on your waist now.
Toji carefully slid in, making sure you take every inch of him. He closes his eyes in pleasure as he feels your plush walls clench around him, Tojis grip on your waist intensifying.
And, god was he big. In both cock, and Toji in general, he could destroy you if he decided to use full stength tonight.
"Y-you're too.. big," Toji not even halfway, you cry out, only wrinkling the sheets more to the point they weren't tucked into the frame hotel-style anymore.
You could feel both of his thumbs caress the soft skin of your sides as he cooed, "I know baby, I know," Toji let out a grunt as he tried to move in and out of you.
The difference of size between you and Toji made you throb, at this point he could just use his hands to fuck you on his cock back and forth like a doll in his grasp.
Toji starts to pant as he picked up the pace of his ruts, your tits bouncing, only adding to the pornographic sight in front of him.
Covering your face with your hands, you moan into them, the feeling of being full with Tojis cock was driving you mad. You could feel one hand let go of your waist, bringing it to your wrist to pull it away from covering your face.
The rustling of the cash beneath you and the sound of skin slapping echoed out into the living room from the bedroom. "Look at me when I fuck you," Toji says sternly, causing you to whimper in agitation as you did your best to keep your eyes on his.
"To..Toji.." You moan out, choking on your words as your hand grabbed onto his that was wrapped around on your waist.
"Come on doll, say my name." Turning feral, Toji pounds into you like a fleshlight. Voice shaking as you try to moan out his name, and by tomorrow you wouldn't be surprised if you lost your voice.
He comes to a halt, completely. Toji slides his cock out of you, a creamy white ring formed at the base. You whine before he hushes you. "Y'know what," He picks you up, cradling you in his arms.
You switch positions, instead you lock your legs around his waist, as the two of you made your way to the balcony door of the bedroom. Is he..
*click!*
Toji slid the glass door open, the two of you stepping out into the balcony. It wasn't cold, and you could see the still busy city carrying on with life underneath the hotel.
Suddenly, Toji peeled your legs off his waist, making you face the railing, and the city in front of you. You gasp as he roughly positioned your body, placing one leg up onto the rail, your two hands clutching onto the cold metal.
He slides into you again, but this time not allowing you to adjust. Toji immediately goes in with brutal force, your ass ripping against his pelvis as he drilled into you. On the balcony. For anyone to watch.
Toji spits again, his saliva falling onto your asshole and soon enough drips onto his cock that was continuously pounding in and out of you.
Your moans broke out into a giggle due to the ticklish feeling, Toji couldn’t help but smile at your reaction.
Both hands on your waist, Toji groans in pleasure and praises you non-stop for taking him like a good girl. His hand wrapped around your lower stomach as he felt you give in, your legs unable to support yourself. "You're doing so good for me," he whispers in to your ear, only to leave a trail of wet kisses down your back afterwards,
You moan continuously, for sure, everyone below could hear. Your hand made its way to Toji's nape, bringing him closer to you as he repeatedly fucked into your sweet spot.
"I’d do anything to be able to see a view like this one for the rest of my life," his left hand made its way down to your clit, lazily rubbing circles.
This just did it for you, lowly moaning, you let go of Tojis neck. Leaning forward, you rest your chin on the metal rail ontop of your same hands that were grabbing onto it. But a certain someone didn't let you do that.
Toji immediately grabbed you by your hair, pulling you back against his chest, taking your leg off the rail. You felt him interlock his hands around your inner elbow, suddenly fucking into you upwards as you grab onto his bicep for support.
"G-o-d Toji, please just f-u-ck your c-um into me." The enunciation of your words came out in bits, as Toji drilled up into you at a brutal pace.
He grinned against your necks skin, leaning further to plant kisses on your jaw."You want me to fill you with my cum, huh?"
You frantically nod, but that wasn't enough of an answer for a man like Toji.
"Oh baby, use your words." He purred into your ear, holding his orgasm to make sure you get it when you deserve it.
"I need it- I need it so ba-ad." You whimpered out, squeezing onto his bicep. "Please, Toji."
He whined, balls tightening as he heard you beg for him. You already drove him crazy, and that only drove him crazier. With one deep thrust, his movements come to a halt, allowing his warm, thick seed to fill you up completely.
Toji placed more kisses onto your back and your neck, making sure to never lose grip of you in case you go all jelly. Followed by him, slowly pulling his cock out of you, his load dripping out of your hole and onto the balcony flooring.
He stuck two of his fingers back into you, slowly fucking the load inside of you to make sure it stays inside. With his cum covered fingers, he slid the two of them past your lips and into your mouth. You sucked on them, humming as it covered your taste buds, and eventually swallowing.
Toji slapped your ass, and you yelped, giving him a glare. He chuckled before picking you back up bridal style, carrying you back inside the penthouse.
He gently and carefully placed you on the bed, quickly cleaning a bit of the mess you two made around the room.
"How about I go run us a nice bath, hmm?"
Fiddling with your thumbs, you watched as Toji neatly fold the pile of money together alongside the one on the night stand. Of course, it’s still yours. "That sounds good," You smiled as he walked over to give you a peck on the forehead.
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The dripping of water from the bath tap rang throughout the room, Toji leaning back against you as the two of you were in the tub. You squeezed a sponge over his abs, the hot water dripping down his skin as he closed his eyes.
"..Toji," you called out his name, and he hums back in response.
You gently rubbed the sponge up and down his arm, "Would you say this counts as me working overtime for you?"
He smiles, opening his eyes to look up at you. "I'll add another $500 bonus and a shopping spree if you ride me in this tub."
You scoff, letting go of the sponge as you sulk against the marble of the tub. "I'm literally stuffed with your cum. I think you had enough, thank you very much."
Toji only laughs, "Aren't you forgetting you got an asshole and that throat of yours? We can easily squeeze in three more rounds."
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷
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valiantverses · 2 months
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Tremors
Ghoap X Reader
Summary: A therapist's waiting room wasn't exactly the place to have the most engrossing conversations. People were usually jittery, tense, or straight-up despondent. Somehow, you manage to strike a strange sort of connection with the retired military couple that had the Thursday slot just after you anyway.
Trigger Warning: Angsty. Discussions of Soap's injuries, the reader has mental health struggles and everyone has communication difficulties to some degree.
A/N: Scuttling out of the woodwork after having a pain flare, a breakdown, a career shift and getting some life altering surgery. Here's a new series while I rework all my previous writing!
Comments, questions, requests and constructive criticisms are welcome. Hate is boring and will go unacknowledged.
_
Maybe therapy wasn't for you.
Baring your soul to a total stranger and unearthing your life to be scrutinised by somebody. Then having that somebody turn around and drop you as a client because you were 'beyond their scope' and recommending you to someone else. It left an acrid sort of burn at the back of your throat as you settled into the sofa in the cheery waiting room of your hastily found counsellor.
Tick.
The leather underneath your fingers was squeaky. Static-y. The kind of leather where the grooves of the well-worn parts of the couch were buttery smooth and a slightly darker shade of black until it reached the bits that weren't quite as worn.
Tock.
The sound of papers shuffling and a low voice calling out a name drew your attention. It wasn't yours. Wordlessly, you watched a woman to your left stand up. The rubber of her cane cracked across the linoleum as she she signed her name on to the clip board at the desk, murmured her greetings to the therapist and made her way inside, the door shutting with a soft click.
Tick.
St. Jude-Thaddeus Hospital's Rehabilitation and Pain Management Clinic had the honour of being the only facility of any sort in your area that offered psycotherapy services. Affordable ones, anyway. Something to do with being integrated into the Ministry of Defense Hospital Units for disabled veterans- but you didn't need to know, so you didn't ask.
You'd take what you could get.
Tock.
You glance up at the clock once more, seeing that you were now close to 10 minutes to your first ever appointment with this therapist. A part of you wanted to fast forward the next 40 minutes of your day. Maybe the next few hours. Get to the point where your obligations were done and the first meeting was over and done with.
Tick.
When the door opens next, you don't look up this time. You try to contain the shake of your hands and focus on that squeaky leather underneath you. The thumps of footsteps don't register before the slight sink of the couch does. When you glance up, it is to the bluest eyes you could imagine.
He was handsome, a part of your brain helpfully informed you. Dark eyelashes framing a sort of azure blue, shards of indigo flecked about like sleet in the rain. His tanned skin had that slight leatheriness that could only come from working under the sun, the hand jutted out towards you littered with callouses-
"-hnny MacTavish, haven't seen you round here before."
Your hand moves mechanically to accept his handshake, mouth producing syllables you knew was supposed to be your name.
Realising the beat of conversation had stretched on longer than it should and it was now your turn to fulfill your part of the social contract that the stranger had looped you into, you broke eye contact and glanced back down at the worn linoleum.
"It's my first time."
There was a snort to the other side of you, from a bulky man sat diagonally from the line of chairs you and Johnny were sat in.
You quickly ammend your statement "-with this therapist. Just moved in."
His bulk seemed to carve away the space of the room, hulking shoulders leading to a thickly corded neck, lower face covered in a black face mask and his eyes a thin ring of deep ocean blue. What little skin you could see of his face looked sallow. Drained.
"Ignore tha' git. Insists on tagging along with me like I'm a wee wain and wreaks havoc of all sorts." The voice from your left supplied as you quickly began reassessing the relationship between the two strangers you found yourself in the middle of.
"You two know each other?"
There was a rumble to your left, a deep bass-y sound you realised was laughter. "Could say that, ma'am. "
"My partner," Johnny supplied, eyeroll evident in his voice as you turned to look at him once more. It was a little overwhelming having to keep turning your head to and fro because of the way the chairs were positioned, and your fingers dug into the leather once more.
Slippery, smooth. Pebbled with some long indentations.
"That's Simon. We've been at this shrink for give or take four months now-"
"Fifteen weeks."
"*-would'a noticed a bonnie lass like you on our weekly, enlightening visits." His quip was cheery, but there was an element of sarcasm you couldn't quite place.
This conversation felt like navigating a field full of landmines. Couldn't ask about his condition, why the weekly visits rather than the gold standard (That is, the national healthcare coverage) of every two weeks, why fifteen weeks- so you asked the only thing you felt you could.
"She any good? The counselor, I mean."
Johnny blinked, head tilting and making eye contact with his partner - Simon - there was a flash of something twisting across his face as the wordless conversation happened in a split second.
It was fascinating. The sort of communication that only happened when two people had an intimate well of knowledge of the other person.
Then dawn broke across Johnny's face and he turned back to you with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Aye, lass. Not afraid to crack into your brain and really dig around. Well good laugh too, great to interact with given I've really only spoken to four people or so since I retired an' all."
You tried not to read between the lines. Tried not to stare at the way he leaned back to rub at the jagged line across his scalp, the puckered edges evident under the peach fuzz of dark hair. He was giving you what he could without dragging a stranger into his own vortex of struggles. You could relate.
"Retired? From military service?"
Regret looked different on people's faces. For some, there was a grimace. Maybe a slight widening of the eyes in realisation, or a hitch in their breath. Self-reproach for bringing it up in the first place. For Johnny, it appeared to be a slight furrowing of his brows and a darkening of his sky blue eyes as he edged backwards.
A cough and the scraping of the chair behind you drew your attention, looking to your right to meet the cold stare of the blond. Briefly, you felt like a cornered animal. Your hands grew still. His gaze was assessing, stony face giving nothing away except the overwhelming vibe of back the fuck off. His eyes flicked over your shoulder and then back to yours.
"Sounds like they're finishing up in there. You should sign in."
It appeared you had clambered out of the field of land mines only to immediately fall into a sinkhole.
Stuttering your goodbyes, you make to stand up, making the same trek the young lady had towards the desk. You fought to control the tremors of your hands. One stayed tucked deeply in a pocket as the other wrote your name down through sheer muscle memory. Sure enough, the door opened and the woman walked out with her mobility aid, a cheery voice calling out your name from inside.
As your shaky palm took hold of the doorknob to twist it so you could enter the room, you caught snippets of the conversation happening behind you.
"Bothering you-"
"-Ost, It would have been fine-"
"Your hands were shaking again-"
"Ach- I had it under control!"
"You don't owe strangers anything. Not after everything you've-"
"Please- I just- I need to have a feckin' conversation about it without breaking down-"
The door shut with a click.
As you sat down in front of your new therapist, you resolved to try and move your appointments to a different day.
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creations-by-chaosfay · 4 months
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@anastasiaoftheironwood handquilting Star Story has begun!
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I need to find an alternative to white chalk that doesn't stain fabric. Seeing white chalk on nearly-white fabric is a challenge. I've tried Clover and Fons & Porter, but they stain fabric.
Threads I'm using are Sulky, 12 wt, and the colors are 4057 (yellow/gold), 4034 (black/grey), and 4001 (light brown/cream) They're variegated blendables, but stand out just enough to add visual interest.
As for the quilting, details below:
I'll be using a wood star cutout as a template. I found it at a craft shop, and it's supposed to be a wall decoration. After I get the stars quilted, I'll go over it again with crescents. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find a crescent nor have one made (lack of funds), so I'm making one with embroidery rings and cardboard.
Why this instead of straight lines and following seams? Time and fun. I use a small quilting hoop to make circles on Halloween Dream, and the handquilting was fast. When I handquilted around thr blocks and border seams, it slowed considerably. Plus, the circles were fun. I'm sticking with templates for this, including the borders, because it is so much fun and faster. My client will get their quilt before the end of the summer. Ideally, within six weeks.
To help speed things along, I'm using a longer stitch as well. About a quarter inch. Tiny stitches are my preference for making parts of a quilt pop, like outlining butterflies other parts of a print. The effect is dramatic and very pleasing...bit it takes sooooo much time. I intend to avoid that here.
I'll be working on Star Story in the afternoon, when my sewing room gets too hot. Mornings will be for seeing, which means more project overlap. Monday-Thursday, from 6AM to 10AM, I'm sewing, take a lengthy lunchbreak, noon-4PM handquilting. I'm up at around 5AM, though that may soon be at 4AM because I love mornings, and go to bed at around 9PM now that we have an a/c unit in the bedroom.
When the handquilting is finished, I'll make a new post featuring it. This will be thr most beautiful quilt I have made yet.
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lpixo · 2 months
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Rosemary // (oneshot) <3 [Recording sexy times with Soldier boy!!] x Male reader. Nsfw!!
Dni if you’re a proshipper, identify as a woman, are underaged, or just want to hate.
However, criticism is welcome and encouraged, as so are request. Thank you!!
Notes: There is a surprising lack of male reader fics for soldier boy and I intend to increase the amount. Word count is 2047.
Summary and warnings: It’s the year 1981 and you’ve landed a job for public relations at Vought for non other than Americas favorite hero, Soldier Boy!! You’re only a few months in when you begin having sexual relations with your client.
or
Having sex with soldier boy through the eyes of a camera.
Please be wary of this containing sexual content in which will include failed orgasms, semi-public sex, taping sex, sexual assault, and an employee x employer relationship. Thank you!!
All photos are from Pinterest, all ideas are original.
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The camera started facing the floor, stained tile taking up the scenery.
There’s chatter in the background, those who are speaking non visible.
Eventually, the cameras picked up, incorrectly spun to face the carrier, who licks their thumb to rub on the glass, not doing anything to aid in cleanliness.
“Don’t do that, you’ll mess it up,” someone mutters, a bed squeaking and the cameras being rubbed by a fist, correctly being cleaned. Not that matters as the quality is truly shit.
“I’ve never understood these things, too new age for me,” another voice comes, grunting as they position the camera, again incorrectly, to their face.
After taking a while to adjust, Soldier Boy is shown on screen, his brows are flexed together as he attempts to move the camera proportionally to his face. “You gotta turn it around,” the person from before sighs, Soldier Boy looking back with a confused frown.
The camera spun around, taking a while to adjust before making itself seen onto a naked body, clothes visibly thrown without care to the side.
“There we go,” Soldier Boy smirked, facing the camera towards you, bringing a hand down to your stomach. “Should put you infront of the big screen sweetheart.”
The camera gets up close to the side of your face as the camera man leans down to kiss you, nothing short of wet and filthy.
Three weeks ago, Soldier Boy had done it for the first time, although it was way less romantic, if you could call it that. There was high doubt he wanted anything more than a sexual relationship with you.
You’d had to berate him for leaving a guest appearance on a talk show to which he’d claimed was boring.
Trying to be stern was failing, however, as he’d been leisurely stroking his cock the entire time, never looking away from your eyes, except for when he was dragging his down your body.
“Bonus on getting to see you now, too, gorgeous.” He’d been dragging his foreskin back along his dick as he said this to you.
Of course, you had upmost respect for the man, so you attempted not to look, but it got sooo hard when he’d started saying your name in repeat, telling you to look.
Losing your job was so worth it but you couldn’t afford housing, let alone a meal without it, so you’d turned to leave. Ben had rose to his feet, grabbing your arm and bringing your hand to his cock, whispering about how much he wanted to feel your mouth around him. How excited it got him thinking about you every time he came down some bitches throat.
So when he’d kissed you, slow but sloppy, you’d sunk to your knees for him without much debate.
He leans back, camera still in hand, and tilts it back to reveal his lack of clothing, cock hard and leaking. He’d said you had that effect on him, last Thursday when he was humping your hand while you tried to explain why NDA’s were important to follow.
It’s held and slapped against your stomach, Soldier Boy joining you on the mattress, pulling you down as it sinks from his weight.
Your legs are spread and the camera brought to your hole, clearly already prepped, but still Soldier Boy slides a finger inside, testing its capabilities. You bite your lip, knowing the imprint of your teeth will surely be left there.
The cameras sideways now, showing both his fingering and the way your hand comes down to wrap a hand around both your cocks, eliciting a groan from Ben. Frotting was a personal favorite of his.
Its hard to see from the position but from the groans on the other man’s end, it’s clear your prioritizing his pleasure over yours, eventually letting your cock fall back on your stomach to focus on stroking him. Your other hand gathers clear fluid off camera, most likely spit, and brings your pointer and ring finger to stimulate his tip, rubbing in circular strokes.
Ben lets out a broken moan, his finger sliding out with a pop, hand coming up to stop you from continuing. He shuffles the cameras worn out strap off his knuckles, positioning it more towards your sweaty body than his.
“I wanna cum inside you, okay? Fill you up nice,” Soldier Boy pushes his hips back to position himself between your cheeks, one hand on your stomach right above your belly button and the other pressing your leg above your head. “Just how you like it, alright?”
You hum in response, slightly dazed, bringing your hand down to touch your cock in which he didn’t seem to mind. Soldier Boy squeezes his own, firmly gripping it and rubbing around your opening with his tip.
“Tell me how much you want it,” He groans, leaning down to lick at your lips, getting them wet. Your hands come to his shoulders, gripping them tight.
“So badly,” You whined, letting your eyes flutter shut.
When you’d left your office for the day, planing on doing nothing more than reading from afternoon to midnight, Ben had grabbed you. If you were being truthful, all he did was crook his fingers towards his direction to you, in which you willingly followed, but the moment you were in his reach, he threw you into bed, telling you to strip down.
He would be out of state for a few months, and he needed something to keep him sated. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t gonna fuck other people over there, but there wasn’t a hole as tight and wet as yours.
You just fit him so perfectly. He needed a recording.
Ben chuckled heavy, pouring a generous amount of lube on his cock, holding tight onto you and sliding home, grunting the whole way through.
When he finally bottomed out, he had no hesitation in beginning to thrust rapidly into you, ignoring your yelps and stops, to just wait a second for you to adjust. Even with prep it was still difficult to take all off him.
He’d only started being so aggressive a week ago, at first it was so kind and gentle, like he wanted you wholeheartedly. Now it was like you were a glory hole he occasionally saw as human.
Nevertheless, it felt so good to have something so big and long inside, never failing to hit your prostate and after a few seconds it’d stopped aching, so you laid your head down to enjoy.
He was consistent, rolling his hips in and out, never slowing to tease or catch his breath, yet he panted like an animal. Raged noises coming from his throat, wet plops in and out of your body.
For the next couple of minutes you stayed there and took it, the hand that had been so eager to touch yourself now being used to glue yourself to him, holding him close.
You’d curse yourself out for being desperate later, but right now he had pulled out, and you had to figure out why.
“Is something wrong?” Soldier Boy fucked his fist for a second, looking at your hole. He picked the camera back up, covering his face with it.
“Fucking gaping, just asking for more,” He’d growled, grabbing you harshly and flipping you onto your stomach, your brain barely having time to register the action before he was sliding into you again.
He continued his pace, speeding up slightly as he chased an orgasm.
Being on your back gave a nice friction to your dick against the satin, but it hurt when he forced you upwards, ass in the air.
His hand was trailing down your back, making its way upwards towards your hair, and you were sure he would have tugged on it if it weren’t for the telephone beside him ringing. He threw the camera to the side.
He stayed inside you, thrusting a little slower, dragging your body a little as he picked it up, “probably a noise complaint with how loud you’re being,” he grumbled, slapping your cheek, to which you whined, burying your face further into the sheets.
“Jesus Christ,” you heard him mutter, moving closer to the phone wirer, dragging you upwards. The voice on the other side was chipper, and you had no doubt it was gunpowder.
“I bet it is,” he replied, shutting the voice on the other line up for a while. Ben looked down at you, pulling on the skin of your asshole, snapping it back to put you down flat.
He moved the mouthpiece down, kissing alongside your neck, lovingly almost, you would say if you didn’t know the guy.
Gunpowder was still rambling on the other line, and you attempted to tune his voice out. Wasn’t exactly too sexy to hear a teenager talk while you’re being fucked.
Soldier Boy leaned back, plopping himself out of you. When you cried out, looking back to see what happened, he shushed you, running his finger alongside your bottom lip.
He rested himself against you, your back to his chest. After positioning the camera lower, he grabbed his cock, penetrating you again.
Enough pre began to gather on your tip, and you knew you were close, tasting the sheets as you lolled your tongue out, so close.
Soldier Boy began his quick thrust again, and fuck, it reminded you how strong this man was, how close you two were and how close you were to cumming.
With a long groan, Soldier Boy stalled inside you, throwing the phone onto the desk, Gunpowder still speaking, to grab the camera.
Three groans, three more thrust before he pulled out, showing the camera your ruined hole. You shivered as he brought a finger to scoop cum out, turning you back over and bringing it your lips.
You immediately wrapped your lips around his finger, feeling hot as we watched you suck, almost embarrassed as if you weren’t fully naked with his cock that was previously inside you centimeters away.
“Gonna make you cum now, okay?”
You nodded enthusiastically, opening your legs back up to him.
The slide in was slicker, and he fucked himself in faster than before, his previous load making slick sounds as he went in and out.
Resting the camera on your tummy, he moved to pick the phone back up, the sound of his balls slapping almost obnoxiously loud.
“Is someone there?” You heard gunpowder ask, not putting too much importance on him any more when fuckk you were so close.
“No one important,” Soldier Boy said as he looked you in the eye, his face not shifting a bit.
It hurt a little, but you pushed it to the side as it was expected.
You continued to make eye contact with him, licking and pouting to see if he’d get the memo.
He grinned and leaned down, but all so suddenly he snapped back up, his cock hitting your prostate perfectly, and you were cumming, moaning loudly.
“Really?” Ben asks, forgetting the task at hand, his rapid thrust becoming inconsistent due to his lack of care. He continues to talk as an orgasm rips through you, body shaking.
Ben feels the cum squirting out of your tip, becoming consious of what he had been doing. “Know what, I’ll call you back,” he says returning to you.
“What the fuck, man?” You squeal, orgasm continuing on, no friction in or either part of you.
“Shit, sorry,” he moaned, attempting to push out of your tightness. He bent down to kiss your stomach, then bringing his head up to your face to place a chaste kiss on your cheek.
“Next time, I’ll make it better for you, okay?” He says without explanation, retracing off camera back to where the video had begun, not allowing you to protest even a second.
For around twenty seconds you laid there, breathing heavily as to come down from what was a partial high. Your arm was moved behind the camera, and it faded to black with two beeps as it was turned off.
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afeelgoodblog · 1 year
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The Best News of Last Week
⚡ - Goodbye Fossil Fuels, Hello Renewables: The Energizing News You Need
1. Fungi discovered that can eat plastic in just 140 days
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Australian scientists have successfully used backyard mould to break down one of the world's most stubborn plastics — a discovery they hope could ease the burden of the global recycling crisis within years. 
It took 90 days for the fungi to degrade 27 per cent of the plastic tested, and about 140 days to completely break it down, after the samples were exposed to ultraviolet rays or heat. We really see a solution within five years, according to environmental scientist Paul Harvey, an expert on global plastic pollution.
2. Topeka Zoo welcomes new African Lion as female sprouts mane
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The Topeka Zoo has welcomed a new African Lion to its pride, a male, as one of its females started to sprout a mane following the 2021 passing of the pride’s last male.
The Topeka Zoo and Conservation Center announced on Thursday, April 13, that Tatu, a 4-year-old African Lion, has arrived in the Capital City. He comes to Topeka from the Denver Zoo and his arrival marks a time of growth for the zoo.
3. This barber opens his shop on his day off for children with special needs – and all of their haircuts are free
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On his day off, Vernon Jackson still goes to work, opening up his Cincinnati barber shop, Noble Barber and Beauty, for VIP clients: children with special needs. 
It's something he's done since 2021. "I was hearing so many horror stories that parents were going through with other barber shops and just the barbers or stylists having no patience with their child," Jackson told CBS News. "So I figured I would compromise by coming in on my day off so there were there would be no other barbers or stylists in the shop and I could give them the full attention that they need."
4. Renewables break energy records signalling ‘end of the fossil age’
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Experts are calling time on the fossil age as new analysis shows wind and solar power produced a record amount of the world’s electricity last year.
The renewables generated 12 per cent of global electricity in 2022, up from 10 per cent the previous year, according to the report from clean energy think tank Ember. Last year, solar was the fastest-growing source of electricity for the 18th year in a row, rising by 24 per cent from 2021.
5. New nuclear medicine therapy cures human non-hodgkin lymphoma in preclinical model
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A new nuclear medicine therapy can cure human non-Hodgkin lymphoma in an animal model A single dose of the radioimmunotherapy, was found to quickly eliminate tumour cells and extend the life of mice injected with cancerous cells for more than 221 days (the trial endpoint), compared to fewer than 60 days for other treatments and just 19 days in untreated control mice.
To explain it in simple terms because this is so freaking cool: There is a radioactive atom attached to a drug. The target cell eats the drug and the energy coming off of the radioactive atom kills the target cell
6. Colorado passes first US right to repair legislation for farmers
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Colorado farmers will be able to legally fix their own equipment next year, with manufacturers including Deere & Co obliged to provide them with manuals for diagnostic software and other aids, under a measure passed by legislators in the first U.S. state to approve such a law.
Equipment makers have generally required customers to use their authorized dealers for repairs to machines such as combines and tractors.
7. When a softball player falls after hitting a grand slam, this is how her opponents reacted
youtube
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That's it for this week :)
This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation:
Buy me a coffee ❤️
Also don’t forget to reblog
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jaegeraether · 1 month
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Sunsets and footballers (Part 81)
Lucy Bronze x Reader (64) / Alexia Putellas x Character (37) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (18)
Masterlist (other parts here)
((3.9k))
Due to popular demand, I'm going to post a chapter bi-weekly, every Thursday and Sunday night until we hit Part 100!
YFN POV
“I love you, little one,” she heard Lucy whispering into her ear between soft kisses to the cheek. “I love you. I love you.”
YFN was far too tired to have woken up to it, of course. She’d had surgery the day before and now she had all of Wednesday to herself to get some well-needed rest after the chaos.
She woke around 11am, groaning due to the pain. “Luce..” she mumbled into her pillow, barely knowing where she was.
No response.
“Luce…” she said again, louder.
Again, nothing. She rolled tenderly and just far enough to see that Lucy’s side of the bed was empty.
“Lucy?” She called, louder. If she were anywhere, it would be the kitchen, surely.
Silence.
She turned back to her side and sat up, seeing a piece of paper on her bedside table with tablets and some water.
Good morning, little one,
I’m at training until 5pm today. Sarina let me have a little sleep in to be with you.
Please take your medication as soon as you wake and text me. I’ll reply when I can.
Jordan and Leah will be over later today around 3pm.
Please don’t cook or go out... just order whatever you need and rest.
I love you, my girl.
Love, Luce xx
YFN couldn’t help the little smile creeping across her face at the fact that she’d signed off with the nickname she used for her. Christ, she’d forgotten about training.
She took her painkillers and downed them with the water before texting Lucy that she was awake. She knew she wouldn’t be able to reply most of the day but would probably get permission to sneak a text or two given the circumstances.
Once she felt ready enough, she pushed herself out of bed and willed herself to move against the pain. She couldn’t go far and wasn’t allowed to put pressure on her knee just yet, and so she slid straight into the wheelchair by the bed and used that to get around. Although she wanted a shower, she knew she had to wait until later when Lucy could help her move.
She checked to see if Narla was fed first before managing to settle herself on the couch in the spot that practically had an indent of her ass and elevated her braced leg. She couldn’t even put her hair up and had to settle for it down and frustrating her. It took all of 2 minutes for her to realise just how much Lucy did for her, and how much she appreciated her.
YFN decided to use her free alone time to get some work done. She’d managed to get herself to the stage of having delegated quite a lot and organised her teams so well that they all went about their jobs, with her as an escalation point. She’d moved her original team up into supervisorial positions and they spoke directly with her the most. She replied to emails, overwhelmed with brands asking when the next event was, as they had gotten new clients and were eager to mingle amongst the football stars. Then she checked on the rosters for upcoming games and look at the progress of editing that her team had made with the videos from the Lumos event. She was excited that she’d be able to start uploading them, as the promo photos had been out for two days.
She used her spare time to create a roster of when they’d release the promos and content for each player, timing it with events or games. There was so much to publish, that it was quite difficult to not clutter too much. They had the content – now they needed to use it as effectively as possible.
She decided that the best interview to start with would be her favourite of the day – her interview with Alexia and Chiquito, paired with Lucy and Narla. She’d originally put the pair together because she knew that Alexia didn’t like speaking English and Lucy could not only speak both languages, but they were friends, and she’d help her comfort-wise and language-wise.
That had been one of the only times that day that YFN had seen Alexia actually smiling. She paused the video where Alexia and Lucy were cutely smiling at each other and it warmed her heart to see.
Her mind shifted to Ridley as she wondered on her. She was back, and it had made her so happy that she’d cried in her arms. She’d visited her and Lucy in the hospital the day before and given her a much-needed, long-lasting  hug. They hadn’t been able to speak much, as YFN had been so out of it on drugs, though she did make a promise to her to speak about it soon. That had been enough for her, and still was. She had just wanted her best friend back.
She remembered their conversation recently where she’d admitted to Ridley that she had wanted her to stay around more, because she loved and missed her. They were such a big part of each other’s lives, and always would be. Linked by history and trauma, and a bond that she’d never had with anyone else. She’d been so happy when she’d agreed to stay around.
“From now on, I’ll be here as long as you want me around, okay?” That’s what she’d said as she kissed her hair.
And then… the heartbreak. The 3am wake up to her absolutely torn. On her knees. Begging her to let her go.  “Please. I need to go, Blue.”
YFN knew why she was there. Usually, it was just a text or a call, or a brief hug and kiss before she disappeared. This time it was an apology. She said she’d be there – but she needed to go. And YFN understood that with every fibre of her being. And so, she’d let her. Because in her eyes, she wasn’t breaking a promise. She knew that Ridley would always be ‘right here’ and that one simple message would have her come running.
Because they loved each other.
She sighed, her eyes focussing back on the screen and away from where her mind had drifted to Ridley.
She’d started several segments within the ever-expanding content machine of Lumos. The first; her couch interviews which she would continue over the next few weeks as she continued to heal. The second; her pet interviews from the event. The third; her podcasts.
They would be the three largest segments that Lumos would undertake – and were presented by her, as requested by Catherine. It was the reason she hired her. For her mind, her questions, her interviewing techniques. Her ability to make players feel calm and comfortable and actually heard instead of led different directions with questions which soul purpose was to pry out information. Not at Lumos. Not in her interviews. She’d never let that happen.
The first interview from her couch segment she’d posted was Lucy’s as she immediately gained popularity from how flirty Lucy had been. The second had been Alexia’s as she rode the wave of publicity that Mark had created. The first podcast she’d released yesterday, containing her co-hosts, Jill and Alex along with their first guests, Leah and Bunny Shaw. She pondered on the pet interviews and her decision to post Alexia and Lucy’s first. Would it be too much to post them again? They were two of the most popular women in women’s football.
After consulting with her team and Catherine for a little while – she’d made the decision to post that as the first for that segment anyways, as it would come across as a strong start to Lumos content. Both segments were a completely different style, environment, and line of questioning. The couch was much more in depth and real, whereas the pet interviews were fun and enjoyable.
As soon as she posted her first of that segment, the doorbell rang and she looked at the time, smiling. Her friends were here.
JORDAN POV
Jordan wanted to stay in bed with that delicious warmth of Leah forever. She woke and shuffled her hoody off, rolling over to cuddle into her neck. Leah groaned as she woke slowly, tightening her grip, her fingers beginning to stroke unconsciously. They stayed like that a while. Slowly waking up by the feel, the sound and the warmth of each other.
Ever so naturally, things evolved. Leah’s stroking became larger, and under the back of Jordan’s shirt. Jordan wriggled into Leah as she pressed her lips to her neck and soon enough, they were moaning themselves awake as they enjoyed the feel of each other.
Jordan’s back tingled at the feel of Leah’s hands and suddenly she was horny. She found Leah’s thigh and hooked her leg over, using it as friction to move and grind against.
“Fuck,” Leah gasped as she felt her move against her. “Don’t stop, Jord. Take what you want.”
Jordan ground against her thigh harder as her body shivered at the feel of Leah everywhere. Her hand found that famous blonde hair of Leah’s and pulled her head back, just far enough that Jordan could properly bite into her neck.
She felt Leah shuddering beneath her.
“Fuck. Yes.”
Leah gripped the back of her head to keep her on her neck as her other hand made its way up the front of Jordan’s shirt to grab her breast as if it was hers. Like it used to be. Like she wanted it to be again. Her thumb found her nipple and played there as Jordan sucked the spot she’d just bitten. There would be a hickey, and usually Leah didn’t like this, but not today. She didn’t know if Jordan was testing her or not, but she didn’t care. She wanted all of her, all the time. She wasn’t ashamed to have a hickey from her. Hell, she wouldn’t even try to cover it.
A bark from below the bed had them both freeze. Jordan pulled away slightly to look down at Blu, her eyes now fully open.
She turned back to Leah who was very much excited. Horny. Her hair a mess and her pupils dilated. Regardless of her state, she was honest with her words.
“We… should be careful. Not until you’re ready, Jord.”
Jordan knew Leah would have stopped, but would she herself have gone through with it? Would she cry again?
She nodded. “I’m almost ready, Lea… almost.”
Leah smiled gently. “I know. Take all the time you need. I’m just happy to wake up next to you.”
Jordan let herself smile back as she pressed a kiss to her lips.
“Can I show you around Birmingham today?”
Of course, Leah had been to Birmingham, though the idea of a day wandering the city together was something she could never refuse.
“Only if I can buy you breakfast.”
“Deal.”
Jordan washed her excitement away with a morning shower, letting her fingers trace over her nipple where Leah had just been. Without thinking about it, her fingers kept playing while her other hand found her clit and began to tease. Thinking about Leah while touching herself was not insanity – though there was a good argument to say that it was as she was just a wall away.
Regardless, she didn’t know if she was ready, and needed to get her excitement out to avoid being a horny mess during the day.
Bracing her head against the tiled wall, she worked her clit and her nipple, eventually coming with a gaspy moan against the echoing acoustics of the room.
Jordan was in her room, staring at her closet and wondering what to wear when she hear Leah enter.
“Did you touch yourself in the shower?” Leah asked.
Jordan spun to her, barely catching her falling towel. “What?”
“You heard me,” the England captain said, stepping forwards.
“I…”
Shit, she’d heard the echoes.
“Yes.”
Leah’s eyes flashed like Jordan had never seen before, and she stepped forwards.
“Were you thinking about me?”
Jordan had to crane her neck back just to look at her.
“Y…yes.”
Leah tilted her head up slightly further with one finger on her chin. “Good.”
They spent the first half of the day in Birmingham, Jordan excitedly showing Leah all of her favourite spots around town, including her breakfast spot. Leah insisted on paying, and Jordan repaid the kindness by reaching out to entwine her fingers with Leah’s as they strode through her local park. Blu happily pranced next to them, Leah holding his leash as Jordan had agreed to. She knew how much she missed him. Missed this. And she felt the exact same.
She just wondered when she would know she was ready for sex with her again.
Lucy had called in the morning, just before she’d left for training, and had asked their activities for the day. She was worried about YFN being alone and almost immobile. Jordan felt like she hadn’t spent nearly enough time with her friend, and so around midday they had the car packed and headed off for their drive to London. A drive that they’d both done far too often as of late.
They dropped her clothes and belongings at Leah’s apartment before arriving at Lucy and YFN’s just after 3pm.
Leah knocked on the door.
A pause. “Come in!”
Blu ran in ahead of them, presumably to find his friend Narla, and the two made their way into the apartment to find YFN on the couch, looking much less tired than she had the past few days.
“Oh, I missed you!” Jordan exclaimed as she bounded over for a gentle hug. “Wow, someone needs a shower.”
“I know!” She sighed, exasperated as Leah hugged her hello also. “I can’t really do it by myself. Lucy will be home in a few hours. I’m sorry.”
“We can help?”
YFN paused. “I… uh…”
“You can be naked or have your underwear on,” Jordan shrugged to show it wasn’t a big issue. “Doesn’t bother us.”
She caught Leah’s look of happiness flash from the corner of her eye as she said ‘us’.
“I guess it would be nice to be all fresh for when Lucy comes home..”
“Exactly!”
The couple helped her into her wheelchair and towards the larger bathroom, rather than the ensuite. They gently helped her remove her clothes down to her underwear and bag her braced leg.
“Can this come off?” Leah asked, gesturing to the sling.
YFN nodded, a little embarrassed but happy to finally be able to clean herself.
Leah removed her sling as carefully as she could, looking at the new bandage and bruises on her collarbone. “How did it go?” She murmured, distracting her.
“Really well... he’s happy with it. I just need to be extra gentle so it doesn’t fail again.”
She nodded. “No more fighting people, mate.”
“Hey – that was very one-sided.”
“I know… I’m just… I’ll be happy when he’s out of the picture.”
YFN didn’t reply until Leah looked her in the eyes. She gave a small, knowing smile. “Me too.”
Once she was under the water, balancing on one leg, Leah left and Jordan stayed to make sure she didn't fall. She distracted her by talking about Leah and their heated morning, and then their day in Birmingham.
“I’m really happy for you, Dory,” she said, genuinely. That’s one of the things Jordan loved about her the most. She was always so genuine and loved when people were happy. “Do you know when you’ll be ready to…”
Jordan sighed as she turned so YFN could wash under her underwear. “I’m not sure… soon? I thought I was ready when I slept with her last time and look how that turned out.”
“You didn’t have closure, it’s completely understandable.”
“I just don’t want to make that mistake again and have us back at ground zero.”
“Oh, you won’t, trust me. You’re levels beyond that already. You just need to talk and communicate. And when you do eventually sleep with her again, go very, very slowly. Slow enough that you’re knowing how you feel at every step rather than bottling it in like last time, okay?”
Jordan nodded and turned back to turn the shower off. “How are you always right?”
“I honestly don’t know how it hasn’t annoyed Lucy just yet,” she laughed, letting Jordan help her from the shower.
“Not much annoys her, I think.”
“Except people chewing or breathing loud. If that’s around – she goes wild.”
“How come I never knew that?” Jordan wondered aloud.
“Because it’s the wonderful, wacky mind of Lucy and barely she can keep up with it?”
Jordan laughed. “Nail. Head.”
YFN POV
The couple insisted on making food seeing as YFN hadn’t eaten and Lucy was going to be hungry when she came home. YFN grimaced at the chaos and lack of coordination that was Leah and Dory in the kitchen, trying to work out how to make a roast. It was interesting to watch, though. They were patient with each other. Kind to each other. Just happy that they were together, even if it was all going to shit cooking wise.
Lucy stepped through the door just before five and immediately looked nervous at the sight of the kitchen and the pair in it. She shared a look with YFN who gave an amused, nervous grin in return.
“Oh, Lucy’s back!”
They greeted her, and then she was immediately by YFN’s side, holding her and breathing her in.
“Christ,” she groaned. “You feel so good. Wait. Did you shower?” She pulled back.
“Yes, Luce,” she chuckled. “The girls helped me.”
Lucy froze, her lips turning downwards. YFN touched them, pondering over them before leaning forwards to gently brush her lips on Lucy’s.
“I still had my underwear on,” she whispered into her lips, even though she didn’t need to. The kitchen was loud enough that they had their privacy.
Lucy made an unsure noise and YFN kissed her, dragging away that overthinking.
“It was friendly help, Luce. I promise. Now go and shower please, you’re stinky and I’m not in a position to escape..”
“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” The footballer grinned and left for her shower.
Dinner ended up being surprisingly okay and edible. They all sat and laughed, talking about their days and what was happening over the coming ones. Lucy’s family were arriving tomorrow, and the couple seemed eager to join. They’d known Lucy her entire life, so of course they knew her family well too. They’d also both be at the game on Friday, organising to take YFN to watch.
“Oh, and in other news,” she announced spontaneously. “Riddles is back..”
“What?!”
ALEXIA POV
Ridley lowered her head and Alexia’s heart sunk at that. “Is there any hope for us?”
“Yes... Don’t run away again. Move forwards with me, together. I need you to be here for me, like I am for you. I need security. Don’t leave again. Fight for me. Fight for us.” Suddenly Ridley raised her head with almost mad determination in her eyes. And then… those dark eyes lowered to her lips. Fuck. Was she.. was she… about to….
Ridley cupped her face with one hand, drawing her down and reaching up as they met in the middle. Their lips met with passion and need.
Fuck. The way her lips moved. The way she tasted. Alexia tilted her head and her tongue began to brush her lips when… just as quickly as it started, it stopped. Ridley pulled away by sliding her head down, Alexia’s lips brushing along her cheek until Ridley pulled back. Her lips were a plusher shade of red now. That just made her even sexier.
“It’s all your choice from now on, Lex.”
Only if she knew that in her head, there was no choice to be made.
“I’ll stay…” she whispered.
“But not for long… I have to be back…”
“I know. Just a few more nights to be with Blue for her surgery. And then back to Spain.”
“And then back to Spain,” she nodded. “Okay.”
What the fuck was she doing? Alexia was usually so strong and independent. Now she was putty in her hands. And she loved it, because she knew Ridley was too.
Ridley’s fingers expertly unclasped her from her seat and collected her things.
“My bag and Chiquito…”
Alexia bolted upright, her breathing ragged. She looked around, disoriented until she realised where she was.
In her apartment, in Barcelona.
She looked at the time, 8am. To Alexia, that was a sleep in. Especially as her body was so used to waking up early for training.
A warm softness moved against her and she looked down to see Chiquito half awake, as if he’d been woken by Alexia’s dream also.
“Good morning,” she murmured as she let her fingers stroke through that soft, grey fur of his. He rolled slightly and stretched himself out in a way that had her stroking his belly. She smiled.
Alexia took her morning just to herself and Chiquito. He’d explored around last night, though he was still curiously finding new things, new smells or items of interest. She let him explore his new world as she took her shower to wake up and went to the kitchen to make her breakfast. As she did so, she felt herself feeling… a little out of place. As if her apartment wasn’t her home anymore. She hoped it was just because she’d been away for a few days, and tried to shrug it off, thinking it would go away. Instead – her mind moved to Ridley.
Ridley in her dream. Ridley on the plane. Kneeling in front of her. She’d never wanted to touch somebody so badly in her life.
She’d come back… but would she stay? Could she learn to love herself? And how would she prove that she’s not going anywh-
Alexia’s phone rang, and she’d been so in her head that she flinched. Putting the spatula down, she picked it up for the first time that day and softened at the name on the screen.
Ridley calling…
She didn’t even hesitate to answer.
“Hola,” she murmured.
“Bon dia, la Reina.” Ridley replied in Catalan. “I was hoping you’d be awake..”
“I’m making breakfast,” she hummed happily at the sound of her voice.
“Mmn. Did you make enough for me?”
Alexia laughed and gave her the same cheekiness back. “Oh, yes. More than enough. I’ll express post it straight away.”
“Or you could just invite me. Save the shipping costs.”
She rolled her eyes, very aware that she couldn’t get herself to stop smiling. “Okay then, when’s the quickest you can get here?”
“Faster than you will believe. I don’t believe that was an invite though, Lex. Use your words.”
She paused as if she were thinking about it before she spoke softly. “Ridley…”
“Yes, Alexia?”
“Would you like to join me for breakfast?”
Alexia heard a happy hum from the other end of the phone. “How unexpected. I’d love to. Now unlock the door, please.”
Alexia froze – her eyes widening as she spun towards the small hall leading to her front door. She gave a breathy laugh. “You… are very funny.”
“And very much going to prove to you that I’m here to stay, Lex.”
Part of Alexia thought it was a joke. Ridley would do something like that. The other part knew she wouldn’t mess with her promise. She began walking towards the door, the phone still to her ear as she unlocked it and hesitantly opened it.
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writersdrug · 15 days
Text
Training for Two
Chapter 7. Motivated, Sir!
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Masterlist
Summary: You struggle to keep up with your freelance work - Soap has the wonderful idea of bringing you and Riley to base.
Warnings: cursing, yeah.
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Sure enough, Simon had requested your services about three days after you’d run into him in the café.
He had sent you an email the Tuesday following your run in. It was the same as before – short and to the point. leaving thursday at 0900. riley will need her meds at 1300. i’ll be on base for a few days for trainig, won’t be far. call if you need anything.
You showed up no later than twelve-thirty, your backpack hanging off one shoulder and a fresh bag of peanut-butter-bacon cookies in your free hand. You cooed and smiled at Riley as she all but attacked you as you entered through the front door. She seemed to have grown to miss you, which had your heart swelling with pride. People pleaser and a puppy pleaser, it seems.
After a dose of her medicine and a much-needed walk through one of the nearby parks, you crashed on Simon’s couch to do some freelance work. With your feet kicked up onto the coffee table (politely, with your socks on and your shoes by the front door), you tapped and clicked away at your laptop, fiddling with the edge of your sweatshirt as you concentrated.
You may have bitten off more than you could chew, as much as you hated to admit it. Prancing your skill online – boosting social media posts that boasted about your expertise in logo design and marketing had brought in more customers than you anticipated. Recognition was exciting, and you had taken on four clients at once; something you were currently and mentally kicking yourself for. The burnout had settled in quickly after you finished the first portfolio of logo samples, and you wanted nothing more than to take a nap with Riley as your blanket.
You sighed, sinking further into the couch cushions and running your hands over your face. You were dangerously low on motivation.
A few moments later, you were holding your phone, listening to each ring as you chewed on the edge of your sleeve. A bad habit, one that your mother had tried to break you of in your teenage years, but you stubbornly kept to it.
Soon, the phone picked up with a click. “Hey, babe.”
“Hi Tyler…” you said with a relived exhale. “You busy?”
“Eh-“ he grunted; you heard the sound of tinkering in the background, and the voice of the secretary at his main office. “I’ve got a moment. Everything alright?”
You sighed. “Yeah… nothing’s wrong, I’m just stuck.”
“How so?”
“Well” – you sat upright, crossing your feet under you and putting your laptop to the side – “I’ve finished the one project, and now I-“
“Which project?” Tyler interjected. You heard beeping, followed by one of his coworkers asking for a wire stripper.
“The logo design for that new attorney’s office off of main and thirty-fourth.”
“Oh! Yeah yeah, I remember.”
You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I finished that one. I have three other projects now, and one is due by the-“
“Three?! I thought you just had the one!”
A sigh escaped your lips. “I did, and then more clients flooded in, I just got ahead of myself-“
“Sweetheart- here, Max, hold this for a second- you got too much on your plate. You’ve already been house-sitting for that one guy, Sam-“
“-Simon.”
“Right, yeah. But, doll, maybe you need a break. Can you tell him that you need him to find someone else for now?”
You faltered. “You’re saying quit the house-sitting gig?”
“Not quit, I know Riley likes you – but maybe just have him get another guy to finish the week.”
“I can’t do that!” you said, a bit taken aback that Tyler of all people, Mr. Work-Till-You-Drop himself, would suggest that you let go of a project. “He can’t exactly find a different sitter right now, he’s not going to be home.”
“Alright, alright- what about dropping one of the logo gigs?”
“That would look bad for my business.”
“Well, babe-“ you heard someone call for him in the background of the call. “-give me a sec, Ron, it’s important- I don’t know what to tell you. You bit off more than you can chew, it sounds like.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach; why am I bothering him? He’s working, and this isn’t something he can exactly help with. “Yeah- I’m sorry. I’m just- I dunno. I need something to motivate me.”
“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” Tyler sighed; you could hear the pinch in his brow. “I’m not trying to be short with you, I… eh, I guess this wasn’t the best time, hmm? Tell you what: when Sam comes back-“
“Simon.” You said with a chuckle.
“Shit, sorry- when Simon gets back, and you’re back home, let’s have a day in, yeah? You pick a movie, I’ll get the takeaway, and have a look at your portfolio. Sound good?”
You smiled, the knot in your stomach easing up a bit. “Yeah, sounds like paradise.”
“Good.” Tyler said, and you could hear the smile in his tone. “I’ll make sure it is. Let your mind rest a bit, alright? And give Riley a kiss for me.”
“What, I don’t get one?”
“Yours are automatic!”
“Leavin’ me for a dog, are you?”
“I wouldn’t leave you for Aphrodite.”
You smiled. “I love you. But go back to work! I don’t want Ron to hate me.”
Tyler chuckled, the sound sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Alright. Love you too.”
You ended the call, tossing the phone onto the cushion next to you. Why did I call him? He was at work – I knew that. He doesn’t even know anything about design. I could have texted him – or I could have just left him alone. Why would I even bother him with this? How could he have helped?
You groaned, closing your laptop and moving it to the coffee table. Looking across the room, you saw that Riley was no longer in her bed, her blanket partially spilling onto the floor next to it. She whined; you turned your head to find her sitting at the door. She met your gaze, licking her lips and tapping her feet anxiously on the floor.
“Do you need to go out?”
She whined again, impatient.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” you huffed, standing on your feet and stretching your limbs. She trotted over to you with a groan, then back to the door.
You followed her there, slipping on your shoes. You reached into the closet and grabbed her leash, leaning down to clip it onto her collar. She grunted and jerked her head back, taking a few steps away from you.
Confusion settled on your face. “C’mon girl, don’tcha want to go for a walk?”
She let out a few voofs, raising a paw and stomping it indignantly. You tried again, reaching out with the clip of the leash, but she darted away once more. She stood by the closet and barked shrilly, still staring at you.
This lasted for a few more minutes; you’d stand there, taking every woo and wuff that she threw at you. After a few moments of the following silence, you’d take a step towards her, holding up the leash with a cocked brow, and she’d huff and turn in a circle.
“I’m sorry I don’t speak awoowoo.” You said in frustration, putting your hands on your hips. “spreek je Nederlands?”
She huffed dramatically, lying down and resting her nose on her front paws. You sighed yourself and headed back towards the couch – she yipped, whining at you through her nose.
“What?” you asked, throwing your hands up. “I don’t know what you want!”
She barked back at you. Helpful.
You groaned. This wasn’t getting you anywhere. You went back to the couch and grabbed your phone, flopping stomach-first onto the cushions. Riley trotted over to your side and whined, sitting politely on the rug.
With a few clicks, Simon’s contact appeared on your phone; well, it was Riley’s face, her snout taking up most of the camera and her ears tucked back against her head as she had sniffed the lens in the moment. You chewed your lip. It’s not an emergency… but maybe he forgot to tell me about part of her routine? She hadn’t acted this upset the last time you were here… and she had certainly never indicated no when you got ready to take her outside.
You pressed the call button, putting your phone on speaker. Not half a ring had passed before Simon answered.
“Wha’s wrong? ‘S Riley ok?”
“N- hi, Simon – yeah, Riley’s ok. She-“
“Are you ok?”
You chuckled. “Yes, I’m fine. This isn’t an emergency.”
You heard him sigh, and quickly tried to deescalate the situation. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you-“
“Don’t apologize,” he said, “ya did nothin’ wrong. I know you wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”
You laughed again. “Well, I don’t really know if it is or isn’t – I’m trying to take Riley out for a stroll, and she won’t go,”
“No?”
“No. I try to put her leash on and she runs away. She’s yapping at me though, like she’s got something to say.” You looked at her, reaching a finger to boop her nose.
You heard the faint sound of gunshots in the background of the call. You had half a mind to ask if he was in battle- war- whatever they called it- at the moment, until you remembered that he said he was training this week. “Ya sure she needs t’ go out?”
“She’s acting like she does.” You said, rolling onto your side.
He grunted. “Pain flarin’ up?”
“She’s not limping.”
“Biscuit?”
“She’s had her first daily.”
He sighed. “Beats me. I’d think she was-“
“Oi! LT!”
You listened closely, suddenly drawn to the commotion beyond the speaker. “Simon?”
“One sec, luv-“ he said quickly. “I’m busy, Soap-“
“Cap needs ye back oan th’ feld. One o’ the Jimmies hud o’ nice fall.”
“Fuckin’ wot?”
“One o’ the rookies collapsed.” Soap was now closer to the phone; close enough that you could hear he was out of breath. “Cap wants ye out there.”
“Tell him I’m busy.”
“Tell ‘im yer feckin’ self, ye dry piece o’ shite-“
Riley suddenly barked, making you jolt. She stood with her paws on the edge of the couch and staring at the phone.
“Awe, tha’ mah girl?” Soap said from the other line. “Mah Bonnie, yea? She miss me?”
“’M on the fuckin’ phone, Johnny.”
“Ah know, I’m talkin’ to the pup.”
You thought for a moment, as Simon and Soap bickered in the background. Maybe, Riley misses Simon’s coworkers? She used to work with them… judging on her reaction – panting and ears perked up as she listened to the conversation – you’d guess you were right.
“Hey, uh… Simon?”
‘- hm?” Simon halted his bickering with Soap at the sound of your voice.
“Does she maybe want to see your- team? Or Soap, at the very least?”
“Aye, she does.” Soap chimed in, making Riley whine. “Ya hear tha’? She misses ‘er ol’ uncle Johnny.”
“Bugger off, mate.” Simon grumbled.
You suddenly felt like you made a mistake even voicing your thoughts. “Sorry if it’s not a good idea, I just heard how she reacted to Soap’s voice, and, y’know – how she used to work with you all…” you chuckled at yourself. “Now that I think about it, I probably couldn’t even get on base, could I?”
“It would-“
“None o’ that keech!” Soap said, cutting off Simon for the umpteenth time. “Ghost, ye can tell the gate guards you’ll be expectin’ er. Or cap, he’ll vouch for ‘er. Want tae see my girl.”
You felt a bout of excitement roll through your veins. “I think that would be great! And I’d get to meet you all finally. I should know who Simon travels the world with, right?”
There was a moment of silence over the phone, save for the distant gunfire and the cadence of orders being called out. You wondered if you had said something wrong; ‘travel the world…’ it’s deployment, not a vacation. Why did I say that?
“Don’t see why not.” Simon finally said, and you sighed quietly.
“You sure?” you confirmed.
“It’s jus’ what the pup needs.” Soap said. “Probably misses ‘er other friends, too-“
“Jus’ head towards the naval base, n’ I’ll send you the address to the gate.” Simon said with a huff. “Tell them you’re here for Ghost.”
“Ghost…” you repeated.
“’S my callsign. Oh, and, uh- put ‘er harness on. She wears that to base, probably why she won’t take jus’ the leash.”
You smiled, heart fluttering a bit at the information. “Great! I’ll see you soon!”
“Drive safe.”
You bit your lip as the call ended, that warmth still bubbling within your chest. A thousand, fleeting questions circled within your head as you rolled onto your side, clutching your phone to your chest. Does he call everyone luv? What gave him the callsign “Ghost”? I wonder what his team is like… I wonder what Johnny- Soap?- is like. I wonder if they’re all as attractive as-
Riley barked; you yelped, body tensing as you were torn from your thoughts. She pawed at you, still standing on her two hind legs and yowling lowly in your direction.
“Alright, alright- let’s go!” you rolled off the couch, equally as excited as she was. She happily obliged to sit next to you when you grabbed the harness from the closet, slipping it over her head and latching the leash to its back. She then eagerly trotted to the door, tapping her feet anxiously and whining.
You stuffed your feet into your shoes (you hoped that a sweatshirt, leggings, and rain boots would be appropriate for bringing your client’s dog on a military base). You stepped out into the overcast day, locking Simon’s door behind you and shoving the key into your bra; excitement boiled underneath your veins as the two of you headed over to your car, right as your phone buzzed with Simon’s text.
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Simon watched as your contact photo faded from the screen. His eyes hardened as he turned to Johnny – the bloke had a cheeky grin on his face, staring right back at his lieutenant. Simon wanted to grab him by his mohawk and swing him into the wall like a discus.
“Wha’?” Soap said innocently, shoulders shrugging with irreproachability. “I miss ‘er.”
“Ya don’t have nothin’ to miss, you wanker.” Simon snarled, stuffing his phone into his back pocket. “You’ve never met ‘er.”
“The dog, ya git.” Soap sighed. His eyes narrowed in amused suspicion. “Yer awfully protective o’ the lass, don’t ye think?”
Oh, Simon could have launched the Scot into next week. He knew what he was doing, the bastard. He knew Johnny was either going to try and pair you with himself, sweep you off your feet and charm you with his stupid blue eyes and bright smile – or, he was going to pitch you with his lieutenant. Simon didn’t like not knowing how to prepare himself: to either cockblock you and Johnny, or to refuse any advances Johnny made to him on your behalf.
Soap huffed, not intimidated in the slightest by Ghost’s dissociative, angry stare. “Calm doon, LT.” he said, shoving his shoulder with two, sturdy fingers. “She’s got a lad, aye? I jus’ want tae see Riley. I’ll leave your precious house-sitter alone.” He held a hand up and crossed a finger over his chest. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were never in Boy Scouts.” Ghost grumbled.
“Does it make a difference?” Soap said with a quirked eyebrow.
Simon sighed, leaving Soap on the training field to find Price. He had to let him know you’d be coming to base, or you’d be stopped at the gate and turned away – or worse, dragged off by the military police. It would be a surefire way of keeping you away from Soap, but it was also rather unhospitable. Riley wouldn’t be too impressed, either.
Still, Johnny had a point. Why was he fretting? You weren’t his.
“Jus’ keep an eye on the recruits. Be back in a moment.” He said over his shoulder.
“Aye, LT.” Soap responded: Simon could hear the grin on his face.
Smug bastard.
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Next ->
Taglist (trying this again): @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae @cum-tea-and-towels @boystepper @definitelynotaclown @your-wifes-boyfriend @ghostslittlegf @bossva @poppingaround @katzykat @mileyraes @chocolate-noodles @jupiternighties @sadlonelybagel @rorysbrainrot @reevesdriver @kingshitonly @ghost4love @lilyofhoon
468 notes · View notes
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Dirty Work 41
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: it's thursday and i'm thirsty.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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You have no tears left. When you’re still and silent, standing in Odin’s arms, slumped against him, the birds sing a little louder and the sun shines a little bright. You feel almost cleansed despite the hollow at the pit of your stomach. You lift your head and wipe your damp cheeks as he slowly lets his embrace fall away from you.
You sniffle and peer back through the garden, towards the house. You’e not ready to face them all, not with puffy eyes and a heavy heart. Odin pats your shoulder gently, rubbing your arm as he coos your name.
“I have something else to show you,” he says and offers his hand.
You take it and gulp down the last of your grief. He turns you away from the great Odinson manse and leads you around the fountain. Leaves rustle softly and the water trickles soothingly. He guides you down a path hidden behind a cluster of bramble, overgrown with moss and ivy, littered with winged samara and sprouting blooms.
The noise of the fountain fades behind you as you enter an archway formed by outstretched maple branches, canopied in the spring leaves. There’s a small structure ahead shrouded in purple wisteria. A gazebo, smaller than that on Laufeyson’s property, forged in stone with rounded windows upon each side. Within, the walls have benches jutting out, another doorway opposite the entrance, looking out into a shadow swath of untrimmed foliage.
“It is old, a bit unkempt, much like myself,” he chuckles as he lets you go.
“It’s beautiful,” you preen as you admire the neat lines between each stone block, “wonderful… I… I love it.”
“It’s a perfect hiding place,” he muses, “a perfect place to have one’s breakfast without disturbance.”
You turn to him, a question stitches between your brows.
“I will fetch you tea? Yes? Perhaps some fruit and something more substantial?”
“I…”
“Dear, you think overly much of others and not enough of yourself. Sit, enjoy your solitude while you can, and I will return with all you need,” he insists.
“I can’t, Mr. Lauf–”
“You let me worry for my son,” he interjects. “I’ve no doubt his part in your despair.”
You don’t argue further. You wouldn’t dare. You lower your head and sit along the stone bench against the wall and turn to peer out the window. It is wonderful there. Like a little world of your own.
You glance over but he’s already gone. You barely even heard him with the buzz of insects and scratch of sneaky critters all around. You turn back to the long window and watch a dragonfly skim along the ground, whizzing up, down, and back and forth. It’s as if you escaped into a book you read as a girl, where everything was magical and spectacular. You don’t think you’ll get a happy ending though.
Your mind wanders through the greenery and back to the house. The bedroom, dark in the small hours of the night, laying awake, staring at the wall, Mr. Laufeyson’s warm breaths puffing into your neck. Those moments when he doesn’t seem so intimidating but remains perplexing. One moment, wrapped around you, the next toying with you like a puppet.
Your core tingles and you bend your legs on the bench, squeezing them together. The sensations swirl in your mind with the shower steam. As delightful as it all was, your heart rents with shame. The way he left you on the tile, the expectation you would get yourself up and go to him, ready to be used again. As always, you have a duty.
Mr. Laufeyson does not care for you as a person, you doubt you’ll ever be that in his eyes. You are just another possession, like his records on the shelf, or that telescope he polishes so vehemently. Just another number in his collection.
You hear a snap and blow away the anxiety as best you can. You can’t worry about it so deeply, you know what you agreed to. He has given what he’s promised; you’ve been fed, clothed, and housed. You need him more than he could ever need you.
You turn to the doorway as Odin appears again, a tray in his hands. He brings it to the next bench and sets it down. There’s a cup of tea and a stack of square waffles beneath a dusting of sugar and heaps of berries. It smells delicious as your mouth waters for a taste.
“I’ve brought this as well,” he stands straight and takes a book from under his arm, “I hope it will keep you entertained.”
“Oh?” You watch him set it down.
“Today is for you, dear, you won’t be disturbed, I will see to it,” he declares, “Walpurgisnacht approaches and we all must be ready for the spring. Lay the past behind so we can start again.”
You lower your eyes, “thank you, Odin.”
“No need for that,” he says, “I only ask that you do one thing for me,” he nears and pets your head. You peer up at him as you heart seizes. “You will be kind to yourself.”
“I… I’ll try.”
“You should take care of her,” he points to you, “I rather like her a lot and I hate to see those I care for suffer.”
You smile, “I will.”
“Better,” he grins and retreats, “I will be in to check on you periodically.”
“Thank you,” you call after him and he gives a half-salute before he’s off, whistling into the air.
You exhale and let the last of the tension slake away. You drag the tray close and cut into the fluffy stack. You remember how you always wanted a waffle maker. Instead, you always had the frozen waffles you slid into the old overheating toaster. These are much better, they’re sweet and oh so yummy.
Sitting there, in the small gazebo, amidst the wilderness, you feel like a bird in a nest. Safe, cozy, and alone.
You lose yourself in the pages of the book. The sun shifts as you move with it, keeping the ink in its light as you imbibe every word like sweet nectar. It’s like staring in a mirror as you feed on the tale of one, Jane Eyre.
Your literary meditation is splintered by the sudden ripple of a shadow and the clearing of a throat; gentle, almost reluctant to tear through the serenity. You look up at Odin as he stands in the archway, a small curve amidst his thick white beard.
“Apologies,” he says as he comes forward to gather up the tray, “I’m afraid it’s time.”
You deflate and close the book. You stand and hold out the book, “I can get all that.”
“No, no, I can manage,” he assures you, “and that is for you, dear. Keep that as your own.”
“I couldn’t–”
“You have some to go, haven’t you?” He eyes the book, “please, I have enough books.”
You look down at the book and hug it. It’s like a new best friend. You just want to spend all your time amidst its pages.
“Thank you.”
“Whatever you need,” he backs out of the gazebo, “come with me now. Let us put our masks on.”
You giggle and follow him. He says it so well. It’s like slipping back into a costume. You feel the peace chipping away and the tension once more has you rigid. Back to the real world.
“Now, we cannot give ourselves away,” he halts just out of sight of the veranda, “I shall go ahead and you will follow that path,” he turns and nods behind the row of hedges, “follow it around the front and you may slip in.”
“Oh, uh…” You blink and look over your shoulder, “that way?”
“Yes, it will take you right around to the front door.”
“Right, thank you… again.”
He bows his head and steps forward. You turn off in your own escape as the slippers on your feet clap against the ground. You come out in the golden sunshine and tramp across the stonework of the arced drive. As you come up the steps, the door opens from within. You stop at the middle stare and gape up.
“There you are,” Mr. Laufeyson greets, almost an accusation, “where’ve you been off to?”
Your brows pop up and you peer around, “reading.”
“Reading? You couldn’t do so in your room?” He challenges.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Laufeyson. I broke the rules.”
“You broke the rules– get inside,” he points you inside as he steps back. You obey and he snaps the door at your entrance, turning towards you with a finger in the air. “Is that all you have to say?”
“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I’m very sorry.”
He sighs and drops his hand, gripping his hip, “where were you reading?”
“Outside.”
“Outside– be straight, where?”
“In the garden,” you say plainly, lips down turned, “I only wanted to watch the butterflies.”
You look up at him, a pout in your lower lip, and bat your lashes. You clutch the book tighter and his eyes fall to squint at it. He reaches and curls his fingers around the top, wiggling it free. He flips it over to read the spine.
“This is a first edition,” he states as he examines, “where did you find this?”
The disbelief in his voice makes you nervous. First edition? 
“Is it very old?” You ask.
He winces and looks at you, his green eyes lit, “1847… I’d say so.”
“Oh?” You bat your lashes.
“Not in its original form,” he turns it over, “it’s been rebound into a single volume. The first print was in three parts and this cover… it can’t possibly be so ancient.”
You gulp and purse your lips.
“So I have to wonder, where you found this,” he sneers at you.
“Well, I… your father gave it to me.”
“Gave it to you? To read? He lent it to you?”
“Um, he just said… to keep it as my own,” you shrug.
“Do you--keep it? A first edition Bronte?” He sounds ready to explode, “so that is where you’ve been? With my father?”
“I saw him, Mr. Laufeyson, but I was mostly alone,” you sniff, “I shouldn’t have gone out. I’m sorry. Again.”
“Is that all you’re going to say? Sorry, sorry, sorry?”
You nod, “sorry.”
He closes his eyes and pinches his nose, “you will stay close.” He offers the book back to you, “put this away and put on some proper shoes,” he looks down at the oversized slippers, “I’ve some errands to run for mother and you will come along. Do your duty.”
Mr. Laufeyson is quiet throughout the drive. So are you. You accept your penance and roil in the thick silence, fingers twiddling and twining restlessly. His sighs make you flinch as you await further reprimand.
He pulls in before a shop front of white trimmed in red. He gets out without waiting and you follow after him. You trail him inside as he strolls across to the counter where women in red aprons and caps smile back at him. 
“Hello, I’ve come to pick up an order for Odinson,” he declares flatly.
“Frigga? Oh yes,” the shorter of the pair flits into the backroom.
“You don’t remember me?” The other woman asks. Laufeyson’s eyes shoot darts at her and his brows arch.
“I recall you spilled vodka on my wedding shoes, yes,” he scoffs.
“Oh,” she makes a face, “I thought maybe you’d forgotten that part.”
“Mm,” he hums and taps his fingers on the shining countertop.
The other woman returns and slides over a large white box, a red seal stuck along the corner to keep it firmly closed. Laufeyson takes out his wallet, “how much then?”
“Paid for,” the woman proclaims, “all yours.”
“Right,” he slides the box off and pivots smoothly. 
You peer back before you scurry ahead of him to the door, opening it as his hands are full. That woman was at his wedding? Did she know Sif? Was it a big event? Did everyone go? You don’t ask any of the questions that flood your head. You’d rather not know.
He balances the box in one hand and reaches into his pocket for his keys, unlocking the trunk. He tucks the box firmly against the emergency kit to keep it in place. 
“Whatever it is, it should be kept cool in here,” he shuts the lid, “though I wonder why mother couldn’t have it brought with tomorrow’s delivery.”
You don’t say a word. You wouldn’t know either. He strides back along the side of the car and dips into the driver seat. You mirror him as you get in on the passenger’s and he presses the button to turn the engine. He sighs and rests the heel of his hand on the steering wheel. He glances in the rear view.
“I’ve another stop to make.”
That’s all he says. It isn’t a question, just a statement. Though you wonder why he even made the declaration. You don’t need to know, you just go along.
He backs out and rolls out of the lot into the street. You distract yourself with the other storefronts and the veneers of city buildings. He drives onto an avenue and slows along the curb, shifting to a stop before he once more shuts off the engine.
Again, he gets out without instruction. You follow. That’s all you can do. He heads up to the grey brick house. Where are you? It isn’t until you’re at the front door that you notice the metal placard mounted on the wall; Bragi Skald, Antiques and Artifacts. 
Laufeyson clangs the large knocker on the door and checks his watch. You wait. It’s quiet. You see no light through the windows but the curtains are drawn flush to the windows, as if they’ve been sealed.
The hinges whine suddenly as the door swings inward, “Ah, Loki!” A blond man at least head shorter than his visitor greets, “wonderful to see you again. I did have it in my ear that you were about, I was curious as you when you should darken my doorway.”
“Bragi,” Laufeyson replies tersely.
“And who is this gorgeous creature,” the man’s crystal blue eyes surprise you as the bow in his lip deepens. He sends you a wink and offers his hand, “forgive me, sweetheart, I nearly missed you there, and how could I overlook such a ravishing woman.”
“Enough,” Laufeyson girds.
“I haven’t even introduced myself–”
“This is Bragi,” Laufeyson introduces the man then utters your name pointedly in return.
“Ah, beautiful name but that hardly answers my curiosity. Who is she? Oh, don’t tell me, you’re marrying again–”
“Hardly,” Laufeyson swipes away the thought with his hand, “I only need to be away from my family.”
“Yes, yes, of course. With Walpurgisnacht, I can only imagine–”
“Be glad you only have to imagine it,” Laufeyson scowls. “Are you going to welcome us in or shall we continue to stand on your porch like tramps?”
“Come, come,” Bragi opens the door wider, “Lady, please, don’t mind the clutter.”
Laufeyson waves you ahead of him. You enter and hold back your shock at the interior. You can hardly see the walls for the stacks of books all around, many with sheaths of paper jutting out. It smells like cinnamon and hint of dust.
“What are we in the mood for? Tea? Or something stronger? I’ve some absinthe–”
“Don’t be mad,” Laufeyson rebukes, “tea will do fine. Just tea, none of your tricks.”
“You speak to me of tricks?” Bragi hums, “is that a sense of humour I sense, oh, dour Loki.”
You lock your jaw to keep from gaping. You’ve never heard anyone talk to Mr. Laufeyson like that, not anyone outside his family, and even Thor did not mock him so lightly.
“Do you want tea?” Laufeyson looks over at you.
“If it isn’t any trouble.”
“Tea,” Laufeyson snaps his fingers at Bragi.
“Do you like scones, lady?” Bragi turns his attention to you.
“I’m not very hungry, thank you–”
“Lady!” A squawk makes you jump, drawing your attention to the flutter of blue feathers that descends to perch on the banister post. A great blue parrot tweaks its head and repeats the word.
“Oh, hush,” Bragi shoos away the bird but only receives a nip of its sharp beak, “don’t listen to Fossegrim. He talks too much.” Bragi shakes his head and retreats down the hallway, “tea, tea, tea…” he chants as if he might forget.
Laufeyson tuts, “he speaks of talking too much…”
You stare up at the blue parrot as it stares back at you. Around its eyes and mouth are bright yellow strips. It’s a pretty creature.
“Lady,” it bawks again and hops off the banister, winging around the space to land on your shoulder.
You gasp as Laufeyson takes a step back. He just sends a troubled look to the bird and glances around, “in here,” he points you through the doorway behind him.
“Um…” you move carefully, trying not to disturb the bird.
In the next room, a large harp stands in one corner, a piano the other, and a litter of various instruments on shelves mounted on the walls. There’s a twelve-string guitar on the sofa, leaned against the armrest as if it was left there haphazardly.
“Be very careful,” Laufeyson returns, “it bites.”
“Bite!” The parrot squawks and snaps in Mr. Laufeyson’s direction. He sighs and once more eludes the bird’s breadth.
“Wish he’d lock that thing up,” he mutters.
You stand like a statue, nervous. You turn your head slowly to look at the parrot. It leans in and nuzzles your hair. You stay as you are, paralysed as you fear it might snap at you too. A grating chitter rises from its throat, softer than its former screech. It continues the purrlike noise as it rocks on your shoulder.
“Is it singing?” You ask as Laufeyson stares with arms crossed.
“I have no idea. Let’s hope it’s not growling.”
You frown and clasp your hands tight. If the bird keeps Mr. Laufeyson away, it can’t be so bad.
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venusmage · 4 months
Text
Commission/Life update for 2024
EDIT 9/16/24
As of now I've resolved around 15 commissions since this post was made at the start of June! This is much faster than I was going the past year. They're going well and I thank everyone again who has been so patient and kind. I've gotten nothing but kindness as a response to the wait, even from those who have been waiting for over a year by now. Thank you.
I recently started two new jobs and school again, so I'm a little busy. BUT everyone is (albeit not at a super fast speed) moving up in queue! Once the owed "Full" commissions are done, I expect to get through Sketch Coms even faster and currently I'm at a good pace to be done by the end of the year.
The best days to reach me are Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays at the moment. Otherwise it might take me a day or so to get back to you. I work on my own projects on the weekends to preserve my sanity, lol! Just know if I'm drawing something else, I haven't forgotten my queue!
------
Original post:
Just want everyone to know I AM okay now and life has gotten better recently. However the past year and a half have been extremely difficult and I'm only now getting back on my feet. I generally don't like sharing life details publicly, but as a freelancer with clients that have been waiting for a while I feel like transparency is key.
If you don't want an explanation for the delays and just want to know my completion timeline, that's totally okay. Here is all the info up front. I'm going to continue updating my commission queue as usual and will not be accepting any more orders until ALL of the queue is completed. I'm working on finishing the half and full bodies first since they've been the longest waiting in queue. Then the rest. I don't have a set date in mind for when they'll be all done for good but the goal is by the end of the year. I think that's more than doable for me now. If you're a client of mine and have questions/concerns, please message me either here or on Discord and I'll do my best to help you. My username on discord is the same as my Tumblr username. Twitter and Ko-Fi are also options but I don't check them as frequently. I usually work Monday-Thursday so that will be the best time to shoot me a message or expect an update to the queue.
Information on what's been going on is below.
CW for mentions of death, financial hardship and homophobia.
As a few of you might remember, in 2019 I was disowned by my mother for being a lesbian. I made the choice to go no-contact. Since then, up until LAST YEAR, she's routinely harassed me or had other family harass me, stalked me on social media, tried to get to me through the website I take commission orders, and threatened me multiple times. I was forced to move across the country both because I felt unsafe and because my partner had family elsewhere that were more accepting. I've had to change my phone number twice.
It's been extremely difficult both financially and mentally to keep my head above water. In 2021 my grandfather died and I still haven't felt like I've been able to properly grieve. I wasn't able to see him due to her and I wasn't invited to his funeral. We were very close and he meant the world to me. In 2023 my grandmother passed away very suddenly as well, and my mother used it as an excuse to harass me over ko-fi/my professional email. It was such a horrific experience that I fell into a months long spiral that I only just now feel like I'm climbing out of. This is when commissions first stalled. I was also starting to get overwhelmed, as I had to take on more work than I could realistically handle in order to pay bills and rent. That's really it - I just had to take more orders so we weren't kicked out of our apartment, and as my mental state deteriorated I couldn't keep up.
The good news is that my wife and moved earlier this year we're living with supportive(!) family now and our financial burden is much lighter. This gives me time to work on my backlog without re-opening. I'm also going to school again, back in college starting this summer for a second degree. For my own health after commissions are finished I'm likely going to take a break on opening them for a good while, even though I really enjoy doing them.
In the past two months amazing and not-amazing things have happened. The amazing thing is I got an ADHD diagnosis, something I didn't even know had been ruining my life for years. I'm still getting used to the proper medications but I'm already seeing a big improvement. It's as much of a relief as it is frustrating. My mother also reared her head again (like she usually does at least once a year) - this time, though, I learned she'd had a stroke. While I'm not involved with her anymore, I think most people could understand how it would still be a very weird and upsetting situation. As of right now I'm free of her once again, she seems to be making a good recovery and will hopefully continue to live a happy life far away from me. Still, those two things back to back have been a LOT to deal with on top of just trying to get better in general. I stepped away from the internet for a while for my own sanity.
The downside to being a freelancer is that there's not always a safety net. That's what happened to me. Thank you all very much for being kind and patient, I genuinely have had nothing but polite interactions with all of you and I really appreciate it. I'm sorry my personal bullshit got in the way of getting my work done for you. This is the longest I've ever taken to complete commissions and it's something that I'm deeply ashamed of. I promise they will get done. Being medicated and starting to recover from the family drama has revitalized me a bit. If you have any questions or concerns please reach out.
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writingsofanomnivore · 4 months
Text
Of Poems and Consoles-Kenma x Reader
for @dira333
Words:920
Warnings- none, domestic fluff. Gender neutral reader.
9:17 pm
The bed is made, the dishes are washed, leftovers in the fridge, the clothes are folded and kept, and the cat is fed. All done before 9:30, just like every day, and just like every day, today is another normal Thursday. You came back from work just before Kenma and started with dinner while he began folding the laundry. After having a quick dinner with some updates on the new clients and partners of Bouncing Ball Corp, and how Kuroo had brought his son (aka your godson), and how Kenma couldn’t help but feed into his pleas and bought him another bag (one could even call it a sack) of candies and chips from the office cafeteria. Funnily enough, he even pulled up a little picture of ‘Uncle Ken Ken’ drawn by the little Kuroo. You must get it framed now. Maybe even keep it in his cabin on one normal visit to surprise both godson and uncle duo.
And now, both of you are in your bedroom, a steaming cup of tea on your little writing table ahead of you while your husband sits leaning on the backrest to end the day with a few games. The book and pen on your table look up at you, waiting for the time you’d pick up the pen and write a line or two. However, on this very normal and usual day, you couldn’t get the words or themes for a good poem. You’ve always written poems to find a sort of solace, comfort, to understand yourself, and to maybe even let go of the past in a beautiful way, but now, there seems no need for it. You’ve got a partner who understands you without words, without actions, without having to utter a syllable. A part of you is convinced that Kenma is a secret author, maybe even a poet with how he can calm you down with a few words that can brighten your dullest days. Here he sat, little whines and sentences of: “Kuroo, don’t do that; we’ll lose the game.” “Shoyo, are you sure you’re on the right server?” “Yes, Bokuto-san, I can see your character doing a 'woah'.”
The quick clicks on his console add a perfect white noise. Maybe you could write about your daily routine and these little things that make it specifically yours.
-and now I retreat from my day’s chores, The house is neat, the door is closed. I lie in bed but not alone A piece of me, I’ve always known Lies in him who I call home.
A day so new lies ahead of me It’ll start the same and end with glee For there’ll be this face I’ll get to see.
As I close the book I can feel the bed shift on the other side. Sensing him keep his phone on the bedside table, I look up. Golden eyes stare at me expectantly, waiting for the old tradition of being the first and maybe only person to read any new poem. Though I knew this poem was not my best, not extravagant, not the perfect representation of the routine I strive for or the impact he has on my day, I gave it to him without budging.
His eyes scanned each and every word, my squiggly handwriting not making anything easier. Taking a pause before each stanza and he let his eyes wander the last stanza before finally looking up. I don’t know why, but those eyes held so much comfort, speaking volumes. Languages I’d never know, words which I wouldn’t be able to spell could never compare to the love I can see pooling up in him. A little smile slipped from his pink lips, which I couldn’t help but copy. “I’ll never understand how you write so well.” Though you know your little poems could never compare to the secret poet he is, you hummed, “I think you’re the one to be credited here. The person without whom my day is null. For whom my heart beats daily and whose company I look forward to every day.”
The old Kenma would have been a blushing mess. He would have probably forgotten how to speak and would definitely not have taken your ink-stained hands in his right now. But this Kenma is not the same. The past five years have shaped him and you into the people you are today. This Kenma has seen you write your poems and collect the ones as old as 10 years ago. This Kenma has grown out of his shell, accepted the fact that he is so much more than the brain of Nekoma, found his worth, and, most importantly, a partner to love who loves him just as much if not more.
So this Kenma took your right hand, bringing it to his lips and holding it tight. He gently rubbed at the little cut you got years ago, the bump on your finger you were always insecure about because it was a callus from holding a pen for more than 15 years. “I love you,” he said, as if a statement he earnestly believes in, the way children promise you something but you know this is much more than that. Much more than three simple words. It was a promise, a promise he keeps every day. Loving you and always loving you. So you repeated them back with a drunk smile, sleep clouding your vision as you tried to keep your eyes wide open; wishing this moment could last forever.
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justagalwhowrites · 1 year
Text
New in Town - Ch. 6: First Make Up
You and Joel come to an understanding. A continuation of New in Town chapters 1-5 found on Tumblr here.
Tumblr media
Pairing: Best Friend's Dad!Joel Miller x Female Reader
CW: Angst. Smut, alcoholism, child neglect (mentioned, not thoroughly described.) No use of Y/N. Age gap (reader is 35 Joel is 47, not a focus of the fic). Minors DNI, 18+ only
Length: 8k
AO3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Last Thursday
Shit. 
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. 
Shit. 
“It’s so good to see you!” His smile was broad and looked genuine, not that you really bought it. He hugged you and your arms hung limply at your sides for a moment before you lifted a hand and patted him lightly on the back. “Missed you like crazy!” 
He pulled back from you and looked you up and down. 
“Why don’t you look happy to see me?” 
Because you weren’t. 
“Just shocked,” you said. “What are you doing here?” 
“I can’t just stop by and see you when I’m in town?” He was damn near pouting. You tried not to roll your eyes. He was 53 goddamn years old and he was pouting. But that wasn’t a surprise, you were pretty sure he’d stopped maturing at 18. “You can come see me whenever you’d like, don’t need to call or anything, not that you ever do…” 
“Oh, that’s rich,” you snapped before the glint of the sun off the glass door of your office building caught your eye. The client you were taking to lunch was heading right for the reception desk. You closed your eyes for a second and sighed. “Look, I don’t have time for… whatever it is you’re showing up here about.” 
“I can’t just come to see my best girl?” 
He was all but pouting again. 
“We both know that’s not why you’re here,” you said. “Sit here, in the lobby, until I get back from this meeting. Don’t talk to anyone, don’t touch anything, we can talk about this when I’m done.” 
“You really think I’m going to make that big a mess in, what, an hour?” He raised his eyebrows at you. You glared back. 
“Wouldn’t be the first time. I mean it, Dad. Just… Don’t fuck something up. Please.” 
“Angel,” he took your shoulders in his hands. “It’s going to be different this time. I mean it. Go to your meeting, I’ll be here when you’re done.” 
Different this time. Sure. That was the chorus you’d heard again and again, every three years or so when he popped out of the woodwork and managed to track you down again. This time he had his shit together, this time he had a job he was just about to start, this time he was sober and going to stay that way. And every time he managed to blow at least part of your life up. 
You heard your name being called from reception and you pasted a smile on your face, heading to greet your client, trying not to think about the fact that your dad had managed track you down yet again. 
The lunch went surprisingly well, considering the fact that your brain was busy running through every damn scenario possible for why your dad had decided to show up and every way he could find to fuck your life up this time. 
To his credit, he was sitting on the couch in the lobby, scrolling through his phone when you got back. He didn’t even notice you come in. You went to reception and Norah, the woman working the desk that day, confirmed that he’d sat there quietly for the two hours you were gone. 
You sighed. Maybe he was going to make an effort this time. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. 
“Alright,” you said and he looked up from his phone and smiled. “I have a few more things to take care of today, think you can behave yourself while I work?” 
“You realize you’re the kid and I’m the parent, right?” He asked, getting up. 
“Don’t know why that should start now,” you muttered, leading the way to the elevator. 
He didn’t say anything back. Which you reluctantly gave him credit for. You’d been trying go goad him into it, antagonize him and push him into snapping so you could wash your hands of him. Apparently, he wasn’t going to let you.
You pulled out your phone when you got to your desk, your dad settling into a chair in the corner, pulling out his own phone and silently returning to it. You watched him for a moment. 
To say your relationship with your father was complicated was putting it pretty fucking mildly. He’d never been in your life in any meaningful way. He came and went like the seasons did, eventually even adopting a similar regularity. 
He cropped up every three years or so now and, since the last time you saw him had been before you moved to Seattle, you were due for him showing up and running roughshod over your life. 
In past visits, he’d emptied your bank account, invited some “old friends” over who ended up being random men he’d met at a bar who then trashed your apartment, showed up to an event at your office so drunk that he threw up on another guest. 
Every time, he claimed he wanted to see you. Spend time with his “best girl” (only girl - he had no other children and no woman would have him for longer than a few days), catch up on everything he’d missed when he was busy fucking around, moving from couch to couch until wore out his welcome, burning every bridge at every job he’d ever had. 
No, you didn’t trust your father as you could fucking throw him. And you sure as hell didn’t want him anywhere near Joel. 
That relationship was too new to bring him into the shit show that was your family, the stuff you tried so hard to hide that you all but lied about even having family to begin with. When talking to Joel about it, you’d just shrugged and said “No siblings, my parents have been gone for a while, no other family to speak of.” 
You knew what he’d assume with the word “gone.” The same thing everyone else did: that they were dead. They weren’t. They were very much alive, they were just dead to you. Your mother was in Wisconsin, your father was… wherever the fuck he happened to be at the time. Which, right now, was Austin. In your office. And you had the sickening feeling that, if he actually knew Joel existed, he’d find a way to ruin it. 
You sighed and texted Joel. 
“So sorry, something came up at work. Can’t see you tonight.” 
It technically wasn’t even a lie. Something had come up. And that something had come up at your work. 
It still felt like a lie, though, and it turned your stomach to lie to Joel. Even though you knew the best, safest option was to keep him far, far away from that part of your life. Your phone buzzed. 
“Shit happens. I’ll miss you. Tomorrow night?” 
Fuck, you wanted to be able to see him tomorrow night. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard for a moment. You wanted to be able to say “Yes, absolutely, I’m going to need you to fuck whatever is about to come up with my dad out of my head so I don’t go insane. Also, I think I��m falling in love with you but let’s talk about that later.” 
Instead, you set your phone down again. 
You answered a few emails, sent the details of the potential contract you’d secured with the client at lunch over to that department, reviewed some copy that your team was slated to present to clients early next week. Your dad sat in the chair, not saying a word, just as you asked. You stalled as long as you could before you turned in your desk chair to face him. You put your head in your hands for a moment, pressing your fingers into the hollows over your eyes before you sighed and folded your arms in front of you. 
“Alright,” you said. “What are you doing here.” 
He put his phone down on the small table and smiled a little at you. 
“Meant what I said before,” he said. “Missed you, Angel. Wanted to see you, spend some time with you…” 
“How did you even know where I was?” You cut him off. 
“I called your mom last week,” he said. “She said you’d moved here, that you had some fancy job down this way. She was real proud of you…” 
“So that’s why you’re here?” You asked, brows raised. “Think you can get something out of my ‘fancy job’?” 
“No, Angel, of course not,” he actually looked hurt by it. As though he hadn’t stolen thousands from you just six years ago. “Look, I know that I haven’t been the best father.”
“That’s an understatement.” 
He ignored your comment. 
“But I’m doing better now,” he said. “I really am. I was in prison for a bit…” 
“You what?” You demanded, sitting forward in your seat. “Jesus Christ, Dad, what did you do?” 
“Same shit I usually do,” he smiled a little, sheepishly. “Staying with a friend and I… uh… helped myself to some of the cash they had lying around. They weren’t thrilled with that so they called the cops.” 
“Shit,” you sat back in your chair and closed your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, before looking at him again. “So what happened, did you have a good attorney?” 
“Nah, just a public defender,” he waved you off. “She was a nice lady but didn’t exactly have much time for my case. I pled out, got myself two years…” 
“You could have called,” you said. “I could have helped you, I went to school with some people who became pretty fucking good attorneys…” 
“I didn’t want to bother you,” he said. 
“Never stopped you before.” 
He ignored that, too. 
“It ended up being good for me,” he said. “A blessing, really. Being inside forced me to actually sober up. For real this time. Haven’t had a drink in 27 months.” 
You raised your eyebrows.
“Good for you,” you said, not even sarcastically. 
“Got my GED too,” he said, sitting up a little straighter. “I know it’s late in life but I want to try and do something right. Get a real job, actually do something with myself. Maybe pay you back, even though I know it won’t make up for all the shit I’ve put you through over… well, your whole life.” 
You nodded slowly. 
“So are you just out or are you on probation?” You asked. 
“Probation,” he said, wincing slightly. “Actually told my probation officer that I’d be staying with my kid…” 
And there it was.
“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. “You can’t just…” 
“I know,” he said. You ignored him. 
“Remember that time, when I was 10 and Aunt Sue dropped me off at your place for what was supposed to be your weekend?” You snapped. “And you and all your buddies were so off your ass drunk and high that I ended up going to a neighbor’s house to see if they had food because I hadn’t eaten in two days? Because I sure fucking do, if you think I owe you something, that I’m going to baby sit you because you knocked my mom up…” 
“I don’t,” he said quickly. “I know that. I do.” 
“Do you?” You asked. “Because it sure seems like you think you can just come in here and fuck up my life on a whim and you think I’m just going to let you!” 
Your email dinged and you sighed, going back to your computer. One of your copywriters had a question about a client and you tried to focus on reviewing the creative brief before responding and going back to your dad. You took a deep, calming breath. 
“What is it you want.” 
“What I’d like,” he said slowly. “Is to stay with you for a little bit while I find a job. It’s OK if you don’t want that, Angel, it really is. But I’d like to get to know you. Actually get to know you. But I’ll call my probation officer and tell him right now that I’m going to need another place to go, it’s OK. He’ll help me figure it out, he’s a good guy. I’m not trying to be your responsibility. It’s a little late to try to be your dad. But I’d like to be something to you.” 
You just looked at him for a moment. He seemed so… genuine. Actually sincere. And he didn’t smell like liquor or look strung out. 
You sighed. 
“Alright,” you said. “You can stay with me for a bit. Just through the weekend to start, no promises after that.” 
He smiled. 
“I’d really like that.” 
You took your dad home with you that night, picking up tacos on the way to your apartment. You’d gotten a two bedroom place, at least. Not because you ever had guests - you never had guests - but because you worked from home sometimes and you wanted the office space. At least the couch you’d bought for that room was a sleeper sofa. 
You texted Joel again while your dad was in the shower, hating that you weren’t going to see him tomorrow, either. But if your dad was actually doing well, actually going to try and be a functional adult you could have a real relationship with, you owed it to him to try. 
Still. 
You didn’t trust him. Not yet. Especially not with something like Joel. 
 It was kind of surreal, having him in your apartment, doing anything but looking for a way to fuck you over. Consciously, you knew that’s not what it had always been. He’d often started with good intentions. You knew he didn’t set out trying to steal from you or embarrass you in front of your coworkers. He just didn’t know how to function in the life you lived. No one from your childhood did. He’d try, for a few days, and then he’d fall back into old habits. 
But this time was different. Or seemed different, at least. You hoped it was different. 
You watched a movie with him - Spaceballs, something he loved to watch with you on the rare occasions he was around enough to do things like watch movies with you when you were a kid - and he told you a bit about everything that had happened in the three years since you’d last seen him. 
For a change, he seemed genuinely interested in what you’d been doing since then, too. He’d never even known that you were in Seattle - something that you found oddly comforting but strange all at once. Strange that this person who made up half of who you were was so distant that he didn’t know where you’d lived two years of your life. That if something had happened to you, he wouldn’t have known. Something had happened to him. You hadn’t known that, either. You weren’t sure if you regretted that or not. 
“I do have to work tomorrow,” you said as you wound down for the evening. “Do you have a plan or anything you need?” 
“Just wanted to look for some jobs,” he said. “If I could use a computer? The phone makes it hard to fill out applications. Don’t think I’ll need to go anywhere.” 
“Sure,” you said, trying not to look surprised. “You can use my laptop, no problem.” 
You set up a profile for him on your computer and made sure yours was password protected. And you reset the password so it couldn’t be something he would know - Joel0926. Just in case. 
Joel texted you before you woke up - “Good morning, Beautiful. Hope your day isn’t too rough and that you’re taking care of yourself.” - and you wanted to tell him everything. All of it, all about your dad, all about where you came from, all about what you’d gone through to make it this far. 
But he liked the person you’d made him think you were. What if he didn’t like this other version of you? What if your dad just took off in a few days and you risked blowing up everything with Joel for nothing? 
 “Thanks,” you wrote back, with a heart emoji. You sighed. He deserved better than this. But you weren’t sure how to give that to him, not right now. 
All day at work, part of you was worried that you’d come home to find your apartment trashed or everything with any value gone with your father nowhere to be found. 
Instead, he was in your kitchen, cursing quietly. You frowned and followed the sound, a slightly burned smell on the air. 
“Dad?” You frowned, setting your tote bag on the counter as he bent over the oven. He jumped a little before straightening. He smiled sheepishly. 
“Hey Angel. How was your day?” 
“Fine,” you said. “What are you doing?” 
“I… well…” he looked down at a glass baking dish that was more blackened than anything else. “I figured you’d probably had a long day and since you’re letting me stay here, thought I’d try to cook and I found a recipe online but I haven’t really cooked before…” 
You went over and looked down into the pan with an almost amused frown. 
“What even is it?” 
“Well… I was gonna try and make a deep dish pizza,” he said. “You like that, I think, right? You went to school in Chicago, right?”
You smiled a little. 
“How about I just order us pizza?” You said, having to swallow past a knot in your throat.  
He looked relieved. 
“Yeah,” he laughed. “Probably smart.” 
You helped him apply for jobs through the weekend and were almost surprised to be settling into a pattern with him early into the next week. It was an odd role reversal, teaching your dad how to function in the real world. The one where people had jobs and bills and didn’t hop from friend’s place to friend’s place instead of having an actual home address. 
But you weren’t confident enough to actually tell Joel any of it. You were still dodging him. Telling him about your dad opened the door to telling him about everything else from your younger years, things you’d worked hard to not have to share with anyone. Next week. If your dad was still around, still keeping his shit together, still trying to be in your life, then you would tell Joel. And, if he still liked you, you’d tell your dad about him. 
Though that seemed like a big if. 
Wednesday, you started questioning things. 
Joel wasn’t texting as much. Not that you blamed him, you’d barely responded to him at all, not sure what to say but not wanting to lie to him. But you missed the texts. They were the bright spot in your day. You missed him. You wanted to go to his house and drag him to his bed and ride him until you were both sweaty and exhausted. You wanted to kiss him in a noisy bar that smelled like stale beer while you were tipsy. You wanted to call him on your way home from work so you could vent to each other and, by the time you came home to him, just hold each other until you had to move to figure out food. 
You missed him because he was the first person you’d been close enough to that you might need to tell them about all of it and that terrified you. So maybe you were looking for problems when you got home after work and found your dad on the couch, watching sports. 
“Hey Angel,” he smiled. 
“Hey,” you sighed, dropping your bag by the door and stepping out of your heels before you flopped on the couch next to him. He hugged you and kissed your check. You frowned. “Have you been drinking?” 
“What?” He laughed, looking at you like you were crazy. 
“You smell like alcohol.” 
“Angel,” he laughed. “It’s 5:30.” 
“So?” 
“No,” he said. “I haven’t been drinking. I did use some Listerine a little while ago, ate some sour cream and onion chips, didn’t want to knock you out with my breath.” 
“OK,” you said, still skeptical. “How was your day?” 
“Good,” he said. “I think I have an interview for next week, can you help me respond to the recruiter? I’m shit at writing things and not sounding like an idiot.” 
“Sure,” you laughed a little. “Do you have job interview clothes?” 
“What d’you mean?” He frowned, looking over at you. 
“I mean you can’t show up to a job interview in jeans and a t-shirt, Dad,” you said. “Do you have like… a button down and khakis at least?” 
“Don’t exactly got much,” he laughed a little. “Sure it’s fine, just a factory job…” 
“We’ll go shopping when I get off work Friday,” you said. “I’ve got a late call with the west coast team tomorrow, I’ll be at the office late.” 
“Honey, I can’t afford…” he began but you cut him off. 
“I can,” you said. “Don’t worry about it.” 
There was a knot of guilt in your stomach after accusing him of drinking, after he was making such an effort. But you checked the levels on your liquor bottles before you went to bed all the same. 
But by Friday, you were feeling good about how things were going. There was a routine in your life, one that involved your father for the first time ever. It looked like he was serious about settling down in the area, applying for jobs and setting up interviews. Besides Wednesday’s blip, things seemed stable and you couldn’t stay away from Joel any more. 
When he texted you Friday morning asking how things were going and if you’d be free again sometime soon, you took a deep breath and texted back. 
“Hoping by Sunday,” you said. 
By Sunday, you’d feel like telling him about your dad and everything else was worth the risk. Unless everything blew up. In which case, who cares. 
You just hoped he’d still be interested, especially after you’d all but blown him off all week.
You took your dad to the mall that night, him modeling the dress pants and button downs for you, coming out of the fitting room looking a little unsure but a small smile on his face all the same. 
“Feel like we should be doing the reverse of this,” he said, putting an arm around your shoulders. “If I’d done what I shoulda done years ago, I could have taken you shopping when you were a teenager and you could have showed me shit like prom dresses and I could buy you something you needed, not the other way around.” 
“Yeah, well,” you shrugged and smiled a little. “I’m just glad we get to do this now.” 
He smiled and kissed your temple. 
“Me too, Angel,” he gave you a squeeze. “Me too.” 
You went by H-E-B on the way home to get a few things for the weekend and started to go grab a bottle of wine and a six pack when you stopped yourself. Your dad laughed a little. 
“Just because I’m not drinking doesn’t mean you can’t drink,” he said. “It’s fine. I can handle it.” 
“You’re sure?” You frowned. 
“I’m sure.” 
So you got the beer and a bottle of red wine - one from the winery Joel had taken you to on your first date, something that made you smile - and got steaks. Getting to see Joel again soon, your dad lining up a job interview, things actually going well between the two of you for the first time in your life. It felt like a reason to make something nice. 
Your dad went to put his new clothes and shoes away while you started dinner and you decided to make yourself a cocktail. It was going to be a good weekend. You could feel it. 
You made a Tom Collins and had just melted butter in your skillet to baste the steaks when you took your first sip. 
It was watery. 
So watery it didn’t taste like there was liquor in it at all. 
Your hand shook as you set the glass down and you went to the liquor cupboard and took out the gin. You sniffed the bottle and smelled almost nothing. No familiar burn or hint of pine. You took a sip straight from the bottle to test it. It didn’t matter that you were putting your lips on it. You knew you wouldn’t need to save it. 
It was water. Straight water. 
You clenched your jaw and swallowed past the burning tightness in your throat. You weren’t about to cry. Not in front of him. 
“Hey Angel,” he said, coming out from his room in sweats. He froze when he saw what was in your hands. “Oh, shit, I…” 
“Thought you were sober,” your voice shook. “Thought you wanted me in your life.” 
“I do, Honey, I really do, but…” 
“But you just couldn’t keep yourself from getting fucked up every day?” You were going to cry. You were going to cry in front of this fucking asshole because you cared. He’d made you actually care, you’d fallen for his bullshit yet again and it was your own goddamn fault. “Jesus Christ, were you really going to go get a job working with heavy equipment and show up every day drunk off your ass until you killed someone?” 
“I know my limits,” he was defensive. “I know what I can handle and sometimes I just work better with a little alcohol in my system, that’s all I’ve been doing, that’s…” 
“This was damn near full when you got here,” you slammed the bottle on your counter. “You’ve been here a week. A fucking week and you drank through an entire fifth of gin, that’s not a little alcohol, Dad, that’s getting hammered every goddamn day.” 
You pulled the pan off the stove and threw it in your sink with too much force before turning off the burner. You leaned against the counter for a moment, your fingers pressed so hard into the granite it seemed like they should be denting it. 
“I want you gone,” you said. 
“Angel…” 
“I mean it,” you spun to face him. “I want you out. I don’t care where you go, I don’t care if you end up back in fucking prison because you lied to your parole officer, I don’t care if you drop dead. I want you gone, I never want to see you again, I want you to get the fuck out of my life.” 
You shoved past him and went to your room, locking the door behind you. You curled up on your bed and let yourself cry. 
You wished your father had never found you here. You wished you’d been smart enough to not fall for his shit this time around, You wished you didn’t want a connection with him, want just a shadow of what Sarah had with Joel because being on your own in the world with no ties to anything hurt almost as much as suffering your family’s bullshit did. 
But, most of all, you wished Joel was here. You wished you could curl up against him and that he would hold you while you cried. You wished he’d tell you that you weren’t fucking stupid, that it made sense that you wanted a relationship with the man who’d done nothing but fuck you over your entire life, that everything was going to be OK and that he cared about you in spite of it all. 
You heard your front door close and you stayed on the bed, hoping that he’d actually listen to you and not come back. You’d need to get the locks changed, check the browser history on your laptop to see if he’d gotten into any of your bank accounts or credit cards, look through your apartment and make sure he hadn’t stashed drugs somewhere and forgotten about them. Fuck, why had you been so stupid? 
The sound of the crash outside jerked you out of your head. It was loud enough that the building shook a little, the endless horn after the crash impossible to ignore, and you got up, going for your front door. 
Outside, outlined by the setting sun, was your car wrapped around a lamp post. 
“Dad!” You yelled, running for the smoking heap of metal. He was slumped over the steering wheel and you ripped the door open, checking his pulse. His eyes fluttered open as you did, looking confused. 
“What…” 
“You decided to steal my car this time,” you said. 
“Oh, shit, I…” 
“Save it,” you snapped as a neighbor ran outside, cell phone pressed to her ear. 
You ended up at the hospital with him most of the night. By the time the police were able to test him for alcohol, it was all out of his system. He hadn’t had a drink since you’d picked him up to go to the mall that evening. You weren’t sure if you should be grateful or if you wished he’d failed the test so he’d end up back in prison and far away from you. 
He was mostly fine, just a little banged up and a broken nose from the airbag. Your car was totaled. 
In the back of the Uber to your place after hours in the ER, you looked at him. 
“You’re gone,” you said. “By noon. Otherwise, I call the cops and you can deal with them.” 
He just nodded down at his hands. 
The next morning, you ordered him an Uber to the bus station. He tried to talk to you but you just sat on the couch, holding your coffee cup, pretending you were alone. 
“I know I fucked it all up,” he said, standing in your doorway “But I really did like spending time with you this week. I…” 
Your phone dinged, saying the driver had arrived. 
“Your ride is here,” you said, not bothering to look at him. 
“OK.” 
He stood there and you felt his eyes on you for another moment before he turned and left. You sank back into your couch and rested your forehead in your hand for a moment, trying not to cry. Again. Because fuck, this man did not deserve it. 
And then there was the knock on your door. 
“Are you fucking kidding me,” you set your mug down so hard that coffee sloshed over the side and onto the table. You stalked toward the door, cell phone in your hand. You were going to call the cops on him this time, you really fucking were. “I swear to God if you forgot something you’re not coming back in…”
But it wasn’t your dad standing there. 
“Joel,” you fought the urge to throw your arms around his neck and cry against him. He didn’t really look like himself, he looked upset. Hurt, angry, something. You frowned. “What are you…” 
“Can I come in?” His voice was strained. You just nodded. “Think we need to talk.” 
*** 
Your place looked the same. 
It was strange, almost. Like there should be some indication of this other man here, something different about it but it was the same. 
“Can I get you anything?” You asked. Your voice was thick. “I have coffee…” 
“No thanks,” he said. “Don’t know how long I’ll be stayin’.” 
“Oh,” you deflated a little. “Alright… What did you want to talk about? Because…” 
“I thought we were on the same page,” he said, cutting you off again. He felt like a dick doing it but he had to get this out, if he didn’t it felt like he was going to burst with it and if he stood here too close to you for too long he wouldn’t do it. He’d just kiss you and wind up in your bed and be stuck in this sickening limbo he’d been trapped in for a week now. “I really did. We never talked about it, not really, but I thought…” 
“I thought we were, too,” you frowned, looking confused. “I don’t…” 
“You said you deleted your dating apps,” Joel said, his voice becoming a little heated. He took a breath. “You said you weren’t fucking anyone else, sure made it sound like you weren’t lookin’ for anything else, like you wanted to actually see where this would go, what this could be and… fuck, I believed that! 
“You made me think it was OK to feel something for you,” he pressed on, standing in your living room with you in front of him, your arms crossed over your body and you looked so small, curving in on yourself like you were trying to disappear. And so much of him wanted to just grab you and hold you and tell you that everything was going to be OK but how could he promise that if you couldn’t even fucking agree on what you were to each other. “So I let myself feel it, I let myself start to fall in love with you and then you go fuckin’ silent on me. You don’t text me first and what you do send is basically nothin’, you never call and then I see you at the mall after you tell me you’re too busy to see me with some guy wrapped around you and that same fuckin’ guy is leavin’ your apartment this morning! I mean, fuck, if I was just some damn fling for you that’s fine but could you at least tell me? Not act like I meant somethin’ to ya?” 
Joel was out of breath, his hands on his hips. He couldn’t look at you, not when you looked so sad it was like someone had hit you and he was still so mad, anyway. 
“That was my dad,” you said softly. 
Joel looked at you. 
“What?” 
“The man,” you closed your eyes for a second before you took a deep breath and opened them again. “At the mall, last night. Leaving my place this morning. That was my dad.” 
“You said your parents were dead.” 
“No,” you shook your head. “I said they were gone and they are, from my life. Except when my dad pulls this stunt where he crawls out of the woodwork every few years.” 
He just stood there, staring at you for a moment. 
“Want to sit down?” 
He nodded and followed you to the couch. He sat down first and you sat on the opposite end of it, as far away from him as you could be. 
“You knew I thought they were dead,” he said slowly. You nodded. “Why.” 
“Joel…” 
“You have to help me understand this, Beautiful,” his voice was calmer now. “Why would you let me believe a lie, I don’t…” 
“Because I’m trash, OK? I’m trash, Joel, that’s why,” you snapped. 
He frowned, shaking his head. 
“You’re not…” 
“Yes, I am,” you said, voice calmer. “Trailer trash, if you want to get technical about it, since I grew up in one. My dad knocked my mom up when she was 15 and he was 17, they were 15 and 18 when I was born. He took off right away and I grew up with my mom and one of her sisters because she was the only person in the family who didn’t disown my mother for getting pregnant at 15 and letting the dad run off. 
“They were shit parents. It’s not really their fault, they were kids, they didn’t know what they were doing but they were really bad at it. I started taking care of myself before I can really remember, I couldn’t rely on anybody. My dad was in and out of my life even then, he decided real quick that his fucking friends and alcohol and drugs were way more important than I ever was. I tried, for a long time, to matter to him. To both of them, really. But I couldn’t so… 
“I figured out that the only hope I had for not ending up like them was school. So I buckled down and did everything I could to be the best fucking student I could be. I took every AP class I could so I could get all the college credit I could manage before leaving high school, I got As in everything and I managed to get into a really good school.” 
You squared your jaw, determined, and kept going. 
“But good schools aren’t cheap and I had scholarships but they didn’t cover everything and it’s not like my parents were good for any of it. I didn’t want to take out loans. So I did the only thing I could find that would pay for the rest of school and pay the rent while letting me be free for classes during the day and I danced all four fucking years I was in school.” 
“Danced?” Joel frowned. 
You rolled your eyes. 
“I was a stripper, Joel,” you said. “I’m not ashamed of it, it kept me fed and out of debt, but I’m not about to put it on my fucking LinkedIn. And it’s because they were there for none of it, they didn’t do a damn thing to help me or support me or anything but every few years my dad shows up and finds new ways to fuck me over. He wiped out my savings account once, trashed my apartment with his buddies another time. This visit he had a pretty good con going, showed up to my office acting like he had his shit together when, really, he was doing the same fucking thing he always does, which is drink and fuck his life up. And when I found out, he stole my fucking car and wrapped it around a lamp post. Because he’s trash and I am, too…” 
“No, you’re not,” Joel said firmly. 
“Joel…” 
“You’re not,” he said. You were looking at him like you were about to cry. It made his chest hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this? Why didn’t I know any of this?” 
“Because everything that I am now?” You said. “Everything that you know and like about me? That’s all invented, I made it all up. I had to build myself from the ground up after I got away from that life. You liked the me that I built, Joel. The me who reads classic books and has an understanding of film theory and went to Northwestern. Why on Earth would you like the version of me who knew how to make ramen when she was four because that’s what she could reach in the cupboard or the me who took her clothes off to pay for college?” 
“Because I like you,” he said gently. “Don’t really care which version, so long as you’ll let me spend time with you.” 
All the hurt and the anger that had been swallowing him was gone now. In its place was this need to take care of you, to be something constant in your life in a way no one had been for you before, in a way you so desperately deserved. 
You shook your head. 
“That’s sweet, Joel,” you were choked up, eyes watery. “Really, it is, but you don’t mean that.” 
“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean,” he moved to the middle cushion of the couch. “The person you are now? The one who laughs at crappy movies with me and doesn’t know shit about wine and finds the best restaurants in town? She wouldn’t exist without the girl who had to figure out how to feed herself or the young woman who was so determined to get an education she worked her ass off to make it happen.
“I wasn’t jokin’ when I said I was falling in love with you, baby, and that means all of you. Even the parts you don’t like, even the parts I don’t know yet. I’m fallin’ for the whole package and I’m fallin’ pretty hard so I’m really hoping we’re on the same page on that.” 
You nodded quickly, tears actually falling now. 
“Yeah,” you said, still nodding. “Yeah, we are. We really fucking are.” 
You threw your arms around his neck and he pulled you against him, your face going into his chest as you cried against him. 
“I’m so sorry,” your voice was muffled by his shirt. “I should have just called you and talked to you, I was so scared of losing this, losing you, I just hid it all and I almost let him ruin the best thing that’s happened to me in so long and…” 
He shushed you.
“Don’t apologize,” his hand made a slow, gentle pattern from the crown of your head down your back, smoothing your hair down, tracing over your spine. “I’m sorry for assuming the worst, I’m sorry for making you think that anything about you would make me want to leave. I’m sorry for not just tellin’ you what you mean to me.” 
“Yeah?” You sniffed a little, pressed yourself closer to him. 
He kissed the top of your head. 
“Yeah,” he said. “Because if I’d just told you how I felt about you, you wouldn’t have been dealing with all this on your own. I could have helped. I want to help. So please, Beautiful. Let me help.” 
You looked up at him from your place against his chest. 
“Can you just hold me for a while?” You asked quietly. “I really missed you.” 
He kissed your forehead. 
“Of course, baby,” he said quietly. “I really missed you, too. So damn much.” 
You shifted so that you were all but on his lap and he held you close, just feeling you against him. It hurt to think about you so many years ago, having to go through shit on your own because none of the adults in your life stepped up to take care of you. It was hard to not picture Sarah as a little girl, what she would have looked like trying to fend for herself when she was four or five.  
It hurt, too, to realize that you’d been so alone this past week. That he’d been thinking about you and wanting to see you but hadn’t been someone safe for you to come to. He kissed the top of your head again, making a silent promise to himself that he’d never let you feel that way again. That he’d always be the person you came to first, with anything, even if all he could do was hold you through it. He wasn’t going to let you do it all alone, not anymore, not again. 
Your tears eased and you adjusted, nuzzling against him, your nose trailing over his throat. 
“Feeling better?” He asked quietly. 
“Yeah,” you nodded against him and pressed a long, gentle kiss to his neck. “Yeah, I am…” 
You kissed his neck again, your lips against his skin for a few seconds, your breath warm and soft. He groaned a little. 
“Don’t know if that’s such a great idea, Beautiful,” he pulled you back from him slightly and you frowned, your brows knitting together. 
“Why not?” 
“Just…” he adjusted himself so you wouldn’t see him starting to harden in his jeans. “Sounds like you’ve had a hell of a week and…” 
“But I want to,” you separated from him enough to pull your top up and over your head, casting it aside on the floor and leaving you in a lace bralette. “Please, Joel…” 
He wasn’t about to argue too much. He nudged you back on the couch so he could pull your pants and underwear off before he pulled his own down. Before he could even get them fully off you were on his lap, straddling him and pulling at his shirt until it was over his head and on the floor. 
Joel slipped his hands to your waist and slid them slowly, gently over your skin, exploring you, feeling you, until he reached the bralette. He pulled that up and over your head before tossing it to the ground and leaving you bare before him. 
“Fuck, beautiful,” he breathed, looking you over before kissing you deeply, his tongue teasing into your lips. “I missed you.”
“Missed you too,” you started grinding slowly against his lap, your wet slit brushing against his cock and making him shudder with desire. “Fuck, I wanted to talk with you so bad this week, Joel. You were all I really wanted and…” 
“You’ve got me,” he said quietly, kissing you again. “Don’t have to do it all alone ever again, Beautiful. Promise you don’t.” 
You nodded and squeezed your eyes shut for a moment before you rose up enough to notch his head against your dripping, grasping entrance. You dropped your forehead to his and your eyes met his own as you slowly, surely, sank onto his cock. 
He moaned as you took him completely, fighting to take deep, steady breaths. You felt so damn good around him and he couldn’t help but look down to see where the two of you were joined, his cock disappearing into you. The sight of you taking him into yourself, the way your body made room for him, how you felt around him made him acutely aware of just how close he was to you. He was a part of you like this and it felt like this was how it was supposed to be, you and him together. 
His hands ranged over you, up your back to pull you tightly to him and you gave a ragged, desperate little gasp. 
“I’ve got you, Beautiful,” he held you tightly to him as you held him inside yourself. “I’ve always got you.” 
You started to move over him then, every thrust of your hips delicious and slow, like you were savoring how he felt. You started to tighten around him and he groaned a little. 
“Missed you, Joel,” you breathed, your pace increasing. “So, so much.” 
You rode him and he was so lost in you he wasn’t sure how long he was clutching you to him, he was too far gone to notice. All he knew in the world was that you were his, that he could feel you so close it almost hurt, that he always wanted to be able to be with you like this. 
“I’m gonna come,” you panted, pressing yourself flush against him, dropping your head to his shoulder. “Fuck, Joel, you feel… I’m gonna come I can’t…” 
“Come on, baby,” he pressed his fingers into your flesh. “I’ve got you, I’ve always got you, want you to come for me. Come on my cock, baby, want to feel you, let me feel you.” 
You came with a strangled cry and stilled as your pussy fluttered around him. He fucked you through it, thrusting up into you three more times before the force of your orgasm was too much and he pushed himself in deep, moaning as he filled you. 
He held you like that, your bodies joined and aligned, for a while. Eventually, he relaxed his hold on you and you sat up a little, his cock softening within you. He reached a hand up and threaded his fingers in your hair, his palm against your cheek. 
“Next time somethin’ happens, how about we just talk it out,” he smiled a little. “Like this a whole lot more than not seeing you.” 
You laughed a little. 
“Yeah, Joel,” you smiled. “Next time, we’ll talk.” 
Next Chapter
A/N: Soooooooooo
I felt kinda bad leaving that cliffhanger out there two weeks in a row BUT now we have them on the same page :D and stuff is out there :D :D and they can move on to figuring out whether or not to tell Sarah :D :D :D
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I hope you all enjoyed this angsty little interlude in this story. I know I did! Thanks for being here <3 Love you!
Taglist: @fanficismydrug
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