#this was written on a phone so if it looks ass deal with it

[kurooh]

PROFESSIONAL ( AT LOVIN’ ) !

⊹₊˚. HAWKS’ BDAY 2024 — after six months of being his press agent’s friend with all kinds of benefits, keigo struggles to find a way to tell you that he can’t keep up his side of the agreement any longer. / or, his heart’s been in it since the very beginning.

word count: 14.3K (um….please read🧎‍♀️)

warnings: 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, friends with benefits -> lovers, angst, unprotected sex, creampies, cunnilingus, drinking (everyone is mid twenties), dirty talk, squirting once, office sex.

xoxo, juno: happy LATE birthday to keigo <33 WOOO first fic of 2025 and it’s the longest one i’ve ever written.. inspired by the weeknd’s kissland! hope you enjoy, love you guys :,) 🩷

“this pussy of yours is pretty fuckin’ greedy, huh?”

“how could i not be when you always fuck me so g-good?” the filthy words rush out of your mouth in a surge of euphoria that has taken over your cognitive functions and renders you clinically cock drunk. in this state, things you’d normally never agree to are suddenly more alluring than a shiny trinket to a nesting bird. sex on the roof of the heroes’ safety commission is outlandish and obscene (you’d used those words when keigo had first brought it up in jest) — but here you are getting plowed by none other than the no. 2 hero of japan.

“aw, dovey,” keigo coos, gloved hand closing around the slope of your neck and tugging you back into his chest, “you’ve always got the best compliments, don’t ya?”

“ah, r-right there!” you gasp, eyes rolling back into your skull as your third orgasm of the half hour boils in your tummy like magma in an explosive volcano. “shit, kei, ‘m gonna cum again..”

“heh, go ahead ‘n let it out for me,” the heel of his other hand digs hard into the plush skin above your pubic bone and the crude slapping of skin against skin grows louder. “c’mon, baby, cum all over this cock. show me how good you feel, yeah?”

“yeah,” you whimper, desperately throwing your ass back onto his cock to get him even deeper, “oh my god, keigo, fuuuck—‘m cumming!”

it nearly sweeps you off your feet, the strength of your blissful orgasm leaving you shaking violently and clenching uncontrollably on keigo’s cock. his teeth sharply sink into his lower lip when he quickly pulls out of you, lamely stroking himself to completion above your ass and spraying strings of ivory onto your skin. your body is slick with sweat and now cum, but the messiness of the situation doesn’t hit you quite yet — you’re busy trying to catch your breath while he hangs his head lowly behind you.

keigo still holds you upright on legs of jelly, lightly beating his wings to help stabilize himself. watchful gold eyes sweep over your body, doing a once over and admiring every inch of you. he’s always considered you as the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and has always felt lucky to touch you — so why does he feel so damn unfulfilled? it’s probably a form of karma; keigo hasn’t ever had a consistent relationship, all due to his own actions. so many of his old girlfriends had clashed with him over his neglectful habits — his inability to give them time, attention, and effort. all of his relationships began positively, then quickly deteriorated into toxicity he’d grown tired of dealing with.

he’d been single for a year, and went without sex for longer. if he didn’t always have the press looming over his shoulder and scrutinizing each of his damn movements, he would’ve been able to get his dick wet sooner! keigo would certainly never admit it, but the total deprivation has been a good thing, allowing him to reset and understand why those relationships had completely gone downhill. at the time, he’d pettily blamed his girlfriend or the new guy she’d moved on with.

you let out a tired puff of breath and break away from his hold too soon just to look at your phone, which is sitting on top of keigo’s jacket. “so, my lunch break isn’t over just yet. we can hit the sandwich place around the block if you’re up for it?”

god, you’ve got that lazy smile playing on your lips like it always does after he’s made you cum. how is it possible for someone to look so elegant even as she buttons her blouse and wipes cum off her ass with a spare napkin? his brain literally short circuits when you hand him his jacket, plush lips shaping around a word. words. didn’t you just say something? maybe his post nut clarity has faded into obscurity, or he’s lost his hearing from how hard he just came.

“keigo,” you sigh, snapping your fingers in front of his face and briefly contemplating slapping him out of his stupor, “is the light on upstairs?”

a shiver jolts through him despite the fact that the weather’s warm, and his disassociated eyes finally hone in on you, standing right in front of him. “yeah, sorry. what’d you say earlier?”

you shrug on your suit jacket and slip into your heels. “i’m still free. we can grab sandwiches around the block if you’d like.”

so thoughtful. his heart swells happily at the prospect of eating lunch with you. it always does, usually accompanied with a flip in his stomach, whenever he tags along on something you’re doing, whether it’s eating lunch or sorting through lengthy documents after the office closes.

“sounds good. are we walking or flying, dovey?” your favorite sex petname rolls off his tongue naturally, and after months of this arrangement, you’ve stopped correcting him.

“let’s just walk,” you say decisively, wrapping the used napkin in another, “it attracts less press, showbird.”

☆ ☆

still thrumming with the sensations of sex, keigo walks into the restaurant behind you, piping up to place his order and then to swipe his card for the lunch. he dutifully waits at the table while you stand at the counter, glancing at your phone every now and then to alleviate the impatient boredom that accompanies most edible purchases. keigo allows himself a moment of respite, and instead of looking at his phone, he looks at you — particularly the way your clothes hug the slopes and curves of your body, much like he does when he’s coming down from an orgasm.

it was exactly eight months ago when keigo had first laid eyes on you. he knew right then and there that under no circumstances would he allow his old persona to shine through or mess things up between the two of you. for the first two months out of those eight, keigo had befriended you (with much encouragement from his friend mirko, bless her) and spent time getting to know you as a person over friendly lunches and the occasional drink. he’d committed each of your stories to memory and marked your birthday down on the calendar, something he’d never done for anyone else before. the beginning of everything was after one of those rare drinks that had landed you in keigo’s apartment and sitting criss-crossed on his bed, discussing your unlucky love life.

he’d listened with rapture as you pored over the freaks you’d met and gone out with in detail, mistakenly trusting your friends to set you up with someone nice on a blind date. in their defense, you’d drunkenly mumbled, it’s not their fault that there’s so many people catfishing. one inebriated conversation led to another, and you’d happened upon the fact that neither of you hadn’t had any good sex in a very long time. in the morning, you came into work late and sore all over, but also newly enlightened. for the past six months, you’ve successfully maintained a friends with benefits relationship with keigo takami, the no. 2 hero of japan.

“this one’s yours. here’s the receipt,” you push him a tightly wrapped sub sandwich and his tab.

he catches the sandwich after letting it spin on the table like an arrow on a game spinner, then crumples the receipt. “why don’t you believe me when i say i enjoy paying for you, hm?”

you sigh after a bite. “it makes me feel like a sugar baby . . but also, i can pay for myself.”

“so you’re either saying i’m old or rich,” keigo chuckles when you roll your eyes dramatically, “i know you can, but just let me spoil you, dovey.”

you knew it was a losing game the moment you brought it up, cheeks heating a little at the implication of his words. maybe being his baby isn’t that bad. conversation comes to a comfortable standstill as you both dig into your sandwiches, crumbs falling to the table and making a small mess. when you look up to pause and wipe your mouth, a laugh tumbles out before you can stop it.

“what?” keigo asks confusedly, holding his sandwich tightly and going so far as to swivel around backwards in hopes of pinpointing whatever made you laugh. 

you wrap a napkin over your fingers and lean across the table. instinctually, keigo leans in for a kiss, only to be a little more than heartbroken when you swerve to the side and dodge it to instead dab at a streak of mustard across his chin. the sudden intimacy and close proximity cause the apples of his cheeks to turn rosy in embarrassment. “did you just lead me on?” he asks when he notices you giggling at him again, voice taking on a playful and petty tone. “because it totally feels like you did that on purpose.”

“no, keigo,” a wide smile spreads across your face at his usual antics, “you were the one eating so quickly you got mustard all over your face! someone had to clean you up.”

in an instant, his voice drops an octave, becoming low and sultry. “you keep talking like that and i’ll clean you up.”

“i— we’re in public!” you exclaim, a dull ache pulsing between your legs at the thought of him using his tongue on you. 

he shrugs noncommittally, feeling triumphant now that he’s briefly flustered you. “public or not, you know you love it. now eat your sandwich.”

“way ahead of you,” heat floods your cheeks as you pick up the sandwich, feeling dirty because of the slick pooling into your underwear. keigo doesn’t understand how easy it is to get you worked up, whether it’s with his words or the mischievous footsie he keeps playing under the table with you. “if i come across a headline about this conversation, i’m gonna kill you.”

☆ ☆

“late night?” keigo hums, shattering your concentration on the current task. startled and disheveled, you glance up just in time to catch his typical smirk. his gold eyes shamelessly rake up and down your body as if he’s spotted something he wants—no, needs—to claim. however, his raunchy ogling comes to a screeching halt when he hones in on the shadowy dark circles beneath your eyes.

“the latest,” you blow out a peeved breath through pursed lips, doing your utmost to avoid looking out the window. it’s completely dark outside, the sky an inky blanket of night and stars over the city. “i’m fucking swamped.”

it comes out bitterly, and keigo cautiously steps forward, wings twitching nervously behind him. that well-groomed mess of vermilion feathers at his back seems to have a mind of its own, constantly betraying their owner by displaying his emotions so openly. 

“what, you coming to rescue me?” absentmindedly, you swish around your empty coffee mug. not a single drop flies over the edge, the porcelain totally dry as if it was never used.

“c’monnnn, you know i’m always up to rescue you,” he teases playfully, gently tugging the mug out of your grip and setting a reassuring palm down on your hunched shoulders. “i’ll get us some coffee and help you out when i get back.”

“i highly doubt that you’re qualified to deal with PR work, keigo.” a small though rascally smile plays on your lips, corners flicking up as your sour demeanor starts to mellow out. 

he sticks out his tongue and steps out of your office, heading to the kitchen. as his feet quietly pad along the hard carpet, he considers your recent behavior — last week you were fucking around on the roof and then getting sandwiches like it was nobody’s business. keigo was seeing you around the office and outside of it, but the time he’d been spending with you had decreased dramatically over the past few days. the coordinated lunch breaks and escapades were no more, and keigo’s been caught up wondering why. now, the reason for this couldn’t be linked to anything he did or said — still, it’s impossible for him not to overthink.

“god, you’re a lifesaver!” you groan joyously as keigo sets down a full mug of coffee in front of you and away from your laptop and notepad. “thank you for this.”

“slow down, you haven’t even seen the things i can do outside of making coffee.”

you rotate your laptop once he finally takes a seat in front of you, insistently pointing a finger at the various tasks on your metaphorical plate. “if i give you some work, you’ll have to do a lot of proofreading.”

keigo nods, and his eyebrows suddenly pull downwards in a mix of playful confusion and surprise. “wait, is that a virtual shrine dedicated to me?”

“what?” you mutter, squinting your eyes as you frantically look over the computer screen to no avail. “oh, shut up. just start reading while i finish up the rest.”

there’s a pause and a beat of silence as you both settle into your respective assignments.

then, “i actually came to the office because i missed you a little.”

“you what?” you laugh increduously, licking a finger to aid you in flipping through paperclipped pages. his eyes follow you, from the moment your tongue darts out to wet your skin and then flicks through pages you skim to find what you’re looking for.

“well, i haven’t seen you outside of work in a while,” keigo sniffs, tearing his eyes away from you and refocusing on the words on the screen. at the risk of sounding too vulnerable, he throws in something disgustingly horny to save himself. “was just wondering about my fuck buddy.”

fuck. he’s really cringing now, throat instinctually closing up once he feels waves of nausea crashing over him. but you don’t even bat an eye, too busy setting papers aside in different stacks and barely paying attention to him. “oh, yeah. i’m sorry, it’s just that a ton of people have been dumping so much work on me.”

“so that’s why i’m reading a drafted article enshrining endeavor as number one?” he grins, briefly catching your eyes. you’re not quite sure if it’s the exhaustion finally catching up or something else, but your stomach flutters when you automatically meet his gaze. loose papers drift to the floor, falling right past you. 

“yep, that’s why,” you laugh nervously, snatching up the papers so forcefully that they crumple in your grasp. keigo’s always so damn charming, and it affects you more now that you’re so tired. right?

“you want some dinner, dovey?” the affectionate pet name lingers in your mind, echoing loudly until it finally fades into a memory from a while ago. the transition of his affectionate voice into one choked with unadulterated pleasure is seamless, leaving you breathless in an instant. a glance at his wings has you sloppily picturing them fanned out above you and frantically beating the air as keigo ruts his hips into yours . . god, what’s gotten into you? he certainly could.

“i want you,” it slips out before you can stop it or even control it, words laced with a silent desperation only he can detect. “uh, i mean—”

“bold words,” a wolf whistle trills out into the air, reminding you that you’ve now started something you won’t be getting out of easily. “sure you can handle what you’re askin’ for, baby?”

“don’t act like i haven’t countless times before,” you retort, voice a little weaker than you’d like. it’s frustrating, the influence he has over your body — he hasn’t even said anything meaningful and yet heat’s surging to your cheeks while a shiver of excitement ripples through you.

“riiiight. aren’t you the one always saying you can’t handle it? ‘oh, keigo, please! i can’t, i—’”

the endless teasing is just too much — it makes your blood boil, gets your pulse racing, and absolutely does what it was intended to do. your full mug of coffee tips off the edge of the table and spills when you slam the laptop shut, leaping forward to rapidly close the distance between you two. your lips, slightly sticky with coffee, crash onto keigo’s hard, causing your foreheads to knock together too.

it’s a palpable invitation, one that he eagerly accepts without hesitation. his strong hands settle firmly on your hips in an attempt to stop their slight tremble, fingertips pressing into the curve of your waist. he pulls you into his lap and you fall into sync with one another just like always: keigo slips his tongue into your mouth while you tug at his blonde curls. impatience curated by time apart and characterized by frustration has the air in the room sparking with white hot electricity that’s strong enough to cause a power outage — you’re so close to finally scratching that unbearable itch, at least until it comes back tomorrow with much more ferocity.

keigo draws back with a knowing smile, lips curling up. “we should stop, dovey.”

a thin, glossy string of saliva connects your lips to his. you’ve got this desperate, needy look written all over your face, which crumples petulantly as you consider the possibility of being left unsatisfied. something purely horny twists in his chest, alongside his still yearning heart — keigo fucking loves being in control, being the only one who can give you the satisfaction that you so desperately need, but the thought of being something more resurfaces in his mind again.

it always comes to him at the worst times: right now, during a sexual moment, or before he falls asleep and when he opens his eyes to daylight in the morning. it’s eating him up inside, and he’s already too far in to stop — or is he? no, he isn’t! not if he finds a way to extricate himself from the suffocating casualness of this mess and advance whatever’s left into a real relationship, one that’s abundant in love and adoration. the evolution of the relationship hinges on the timing of his love confession, so he’ll definitely plan to wait until you’re not holed up in the office and on his lap looking like you’re about to shed tears.

“i c-can’t,” you gasp breathlessly, heart pounding in your ears, “kei, please— i need you so badly, i’ve been waiting so damn long.” 

and who is he to deny you, when you’re begging so beautifully?

“so you missed me?” keigo murmurs, pressing kisses to the column of your throat and savoring the way you softly gasp. this is his moment. he’s going to slyly frame a question for you, and when you answer it correctly, he’ll spring his confession onto you and then give you what you’ve been dying for.

“god, yes,” a moan rushes out from between your lips, head tipping back to give him easier access. with his nose pressed into your skin, keigo blissfully inhales the faint wisps of your favorite perfume. eight months later and you’re still wearing that scent daily, ever since he complimented you the day he met you. “you know i did, keigo.”

“what’d you miss the most?” he smirks between open mouthed kisses, guiding you straight to the answer with his warm hands that slip under your shirt and languidly caress the small of your back. 

“your cock, t-the way you fuck me,” you groan, unintentionally shattering his plan into pieces; but he doesn’t let it show, chuckling into your neck as he rapidly snatches them up and off the floor. it’s okay, he’s okay. all he has to do is ask a few more questions and offer up some multiple choice answers — in doing so, he’ll have a chance to tell you how he really feels.

“mmmm, is that all?” 

your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you tug him back by the hair, scrutinizing him with eyes clouded by lust and nothing else. a carnation colored flush sits high on his cheekbones, and his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows down a pesky i love you. not now, not here — this isn’t the right moment.

“keigo, why are you questioning me like my boss does?” he blinks, averting his eyes to your glossy neck, shining with his saliva in the dim light. it smells like coffee now, and he’s wondering if it’ll ever get cleaned up, dark liquid overflowing and soaking through the carpet, straight into the floor. he doesn’t want to be like the coffee, forgotten about and lingering in the air since it had fallen off the desk without you having caught it.

keigo knows you — he always has, and it’s too easy to pick up on the unmistakable tension twisted in your question, along with undertones of discomfort and deflection. automatically, he slips back into his typical persona, lips curling into an impish smile while he waggles his eyebrows to emphasize his words. “heh, you’re so impatient. can you blame me for wanting to build things up?”

you visibly relax, plush mouth forming into a pout he wants to kiss away. “i think there’s been plenty of build up. don’t tease me again.”

“yes ma’am,” he replies coolly, lifting his hands into the air in a show of submission. you release his hair and he pulls you into his chest, holding you tightly as he stands up from the chair. it rolls away into a corner, plastic backing hitting the wall with a soft thud just as keigo slams you down on the desk, papers flying every which way. 

“keigo, hah, you haven’t even gotten me naked yet,” you sigh, heat rushing to your face as he sinks to his knees on the hard carpet, his eyes never leaving yours. dexterous, impatient fingers find the clasp of your pants, and he drags them down your legs, along with your sticky panties. 

“i know,” keigo breathes, pulling your thighs over his shoulders and pulling your hips close to his face, “and yet, you’re already fucking soaked for me. aren’t you, baby?”

“yeah, i am,” you whimper, feeling your cunt clench around nothing when he rewards you by spitting onto your clit. “all for you, kei.”

“you’re so cute.” 

you really are, all spread out on the desk, pretty and pliant just for him. there’s not a shred of resistance when he manuvers you closer or teases his fingertips around your quivering hole, ignoring your strained cries for more. dark pupils enlarge against gold irises, and keigo’s wings flutter eagerly as his arousal crashes over him in continuous, steady waves of heat. now that he’s between your legs and focused on his favorite late night snack, the scent of the coffee dissipates along with his thoughts. 

“keigo,” you keen, fingers threading through his tousled curls, “please, just—oh god, stop fuckin’ teasing me.”

a sportive smack! lands on the side of your bare ass, kicking up a few papers when you jolt forward in surprise. “easy, baby. easy,” there’s a low, warning pitch in his voice, and you settle down frustratedly, gnawing on your lower lip. keigo’s never been one to rush when it comes to eating your pussy, even during quickies—you’d be more aggravated if he didn’t always make you cum so damn hard. his face is flushed pink and shining with eagerness as he pushes two fingers inside you, fixated on the way they slide in so easily. 

he experimentally curls them, and a lick of heat washes over his whole body when he watches your face crumple, head tipping back weakly while you tug at his hair. the blond curls are soft between your fingers, giving you something to grab onto when you need to steady yourself. 

“fuckkk,” keigo groans, attaching his rosy lips to your clit and lightly sucking at the swollen, sensitive bud. clumsily, you grind your hips against his mouth, body sweltering as the small office fills with the impolite smacks of his lips and wet squelches of your sloppy cunt. “loosen up for me, baby, you’re too tight.”

a trembly breath leaves your lips as you obediently readjust for him, spreading your legs and trying to relax so he can tug his fingers back. for a moment, he pauses to appreciatively look over his glossy, creamy fingers—he sticks them into his mouth, moaning and squeezing his eyes shut as he puts on a show of swirling his tongue around them like some kind of slut. once he opens his eyes, those piercing gold hues meet your own and he plunges them back inside, making you whimper.

“listen to me, dovey,” keigo murmurs, breath fanning over your wet clit, “i want you cumming hard on my fingers in the next thirty seconds.”

“but—oh,” your voice cracks when he deeply curls his fingers, purposefully interrupting you, “what if it’s not enough? i don’t think i can—”

sharp, pearly teeth lightly graze your clit and make you mewl noisily, the action both a warning and a reward. “yes, you can, dovey,” he utters in a hushed voice, “c’mon, show me you’re a big girl. i’ll be counting for ya.”

with that, keigo dives back in, furiously licking your clit while he roughly curls his fingers into that sweet, spongy spot inside you. it’s probably not serious, but something in your stomach flutters at the thought of disobeying him—if he wants you to cum, you’ll do just that. your hips rock into his tongue, developing a messy rhythm that could possibly rival his own when he’s inside you—he smirks against you, clearly pleased with himself. papers lift into the air, swirling around in a flurry of white as if they’re caught up in a tornado. the source of the miniature storm is his wings, uncontrollably flapping about as he determinedly licks at your clit like a lollipop. 

twenty five. a thin sheen of sweat shines on your forehead, making the skin tacky. absentmindedly, you wonder if it could be possible for him to cum in his pants just from eating you out. he certainly enjoys it enough — whenever he says he’s feeling thirsty or hungry, he’ll end up eating you out for so long you pass out by your seventh orgasm.

twenty. keigo’s absorbed in the smell, sight, and taste of you. nothing’s better than watching you fall apart on him, dewy tears in your eyes as you fight back overstimulation or impatience. but this is new: he’s never demanded you to cum after setting a time limit in place. it occurs to him now that he didn’t think far enough ahead to answer the question you’ll probably end up asking afterwards, something along the lines of ‘what would’ve happened if i didn’t cum?’ . . 

fifteen. with your eyes rolling back into your head as your hips lurch off the desk, a bit of drool pours down your chin. covered in a mixture of sweat, spit, and slick, you’re at a loss for words as keigo’s damn tongue rolls over your clit again and again. perhaps you’re too dazed, but you swear you feel him etch the letters of his name into you with the tip of his tongue.

ten. keigo’s pussydrunk, soaking his boxers with precum as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. his eyes are dark with lust, and the rosy skin of his cheeks and chin is smeared with that sticky wetness he just can’t get enough of. all of your muscles pull taut like a bowstring, and you sob out his name, pushing his face into you as euphoria hits you from every direction and all at once.

“kei, oh my god, ‘m gonna fucking cum,” within seconds of your frantic gasps, you abruptly gush on his fingers, hard enough to push them out of you — cum squirts from your cunt, getting onto his face when he curiously leans in to lick it away.

you don’t get a second to come down from your high because keigo roughly licks you through it as if he’s severely dehydrated. “mmmph!” you squeal, hips immediately pulling away from him like he’s given you an electric shock. “wai—wait, keigo, it’s way too much!”

he relents, rolling his eyes as if he doesn’t believe you. “fine, fiiiiine. you win this one, dovey.”

“pants off.”

he quirks an eyebrow but starts to undo his belt, letting it fall to the floor with a soft bang. “you’re so fucking greedy, i swear.”

you throw him a glare, wiping sweat off of your forehead as you sit up, slowly hopping off of the desk. 

papers fall all around you, quietly crinkling as they hit the floor and surround the desk in a sloppy circle. your lips press into a thin line as you take the sight in, mildly exasperated by the mess you’ll force him to clean up. “on the desk, keigo. tuck your wings in too.”

he laughs in disbelief, used to calling the shots when it comes to sex, “so demanding, baby.”

you fix him with a serious look, crossing your arms over your chest while papers ride the dying currents of air made by his wings. keigo clears his throat and folds his wings close to his back, “yes ma’am.”

his flushed cock is rock hard, bobbing as he settles onto the desk; it’s fraught with veins and beautifully curved to one side, something you’re endlessly thankful for when he’s inside you. above him, you’re dripping wet and ready to take him deep — keigo shudders when you grip the base of his cock, carefully balancing yourself on the desk so that you can easily sit down on it.

“holy—oh, shit,” he curses, abs clenching beneath his clothing as he forces himself to keep his hips down. if you want to take control, he’ll give it to you — anything you could ever want is immediately yours. bleary gold eyes clear up and hone in on where you’re connected; your pussy swallows his cock whole like it’s nothing, leaving him breathless.

you swallow, gnawing at your lower lip, “i’ve fucking missed this, kei. been s-so long.”

memories from your most favorite escapades rush back to you so quickly your head spins, momentarily distracting you from the task at hand. there’s a beat of silence before keigo grips your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he borderline begs you, “baby, c’mon, fuck me already.”

“don’t tell me what to do,” you breathe, placing your hands in the center of his chest to hold yourself up, “you don’t get to do that right now, keigo.”

“god, you’re gonna kill me.”

maybe you won’t, but your hips will — they start to move until you’re bouncing roughly on his cock, letting his tip bully itself against your cervix. it’s the kind of kiss that only the two of you can understand, filled with affection and an hungry obsession for more.

for what seems to be the hundredth time, this mahogany desk is christened with more sex. skin claps against skin, filling the room with the same applause that echoes in a theater after a successful show; the whole building is empty, and it’s only your window that’s flooded with fluorescent light in the otherwise dark night.

“dovey,” keigo moans, voice cracking on the familiar pet name, “if you keep going like this, i’m—i’m not gonna last much longer.”

you don’t answer, eyes squeezing shut against the burn of exhaustion setting into your muscles. handsy as always, he grabs at your tits, pulling you further on top of him and taking a hardened nipple into your mouth.

the sharp edges of his pearly teeth drag against your skin as he sucks, golden eyes shutting once he hears your whiny moans grow louder. you’re fluid and all too smooth, riding his cock into oblivion while working in these little humps against his pelvis that don’t disturb the rhythm you’ve built up. your clit drags across his skin deliciously—shit, it’s possible that you could cum together.

“haah, baby,” keigo trembles beneath you, wings spreading out and quivering against his will. “i’m so damn close, i want—” it nearly sounds too intimate, but he ignores the voice in the back of his mind and focuses on his impending orgasm that’s fighting its way out of him. “shit, i just want you to cum with me.”

sensitivity creeps up your spine and makes your body ripple with a shudder, “r-rub my clit ‘n i will, kei.”

everything happens so damn fast; it doesn’t take long for your body to respond to his frenetic touch, and you completely fall apart on his cock, triggering his own high. while your cunt desperately grips him like a vice, he’s shooting endless ropes of cum deep against your cervix. ultimately, it was pointless for him to fold up his wings — they’ve fought against him like usual, strewing more papers around the room and knocking objects off of your desk.

“d-don’t move just yet,” he wheezes, holding your hips in place the moment you try to retreat, “just stay here for a second, dovey.”

a mixture of slick and cum is smeared in the wispy beige hair that adorns his pelvis, and he looks at you pleadingly, cheeks a blotchy pink. it’s cute, but not nearly convincing enough for you to stay much longer than half a minute. “c’mon, i’ve got some stuff to finish up.”

begrudgingly, keigo lets you go and winces as you pull off of his cock. it flops lamely against his stomach, cum dribbling down the sides and adding to the creamy ring around the base. he sighs, unsurprised by your eagerness to depart — his thighs are cooling now that you’re no longer sitting on top of them.

“that was good,” you say, voice layered with praise as you stand on the tips of your toes and peck an appreciative kiss to his cheek, “let’s get started on sorting papers, shall we?”

you’re already across the room before he can grab your waist and show you what a real kiss feels like, slipping through his fingers like fine grains of sand each and every time. 

☆ ☆

rules are the stitches in the seams of anything, always there to hold things tightly in place. it’s natural to break a few every now and then, but what if there are some that should be broken? perhaps they tend to hold things back rather than securely in place.

“okinawa’s just beautiful,” keigo says wistfully, reminiscing about white sand beaches and the bird’s eye view of colorful tourist umbrellas dotting the shoreline from above. there’s a small glitch in his memories that adds you to the scene in a bikini, sunbathing on a towel while he convinces you to come swim in the water with him. he hears himself say something impulsive, but he doesn’t regret it. “maybe we can go on a trip there together. i’ll fly us.”

you stir your drink with a straw, watching the alcohol whirl around ice. “ah, i think we should build up to that, keigo. you’re forgetting that i’ve never flown around that far with you before.”

“we could always change that,” he replies, voice suave. “nighttime is the best time to fly.”

“someday i might just take you up on it,��� a laugh spills out of your mouth after a gulp of sweetened tequila, and keigo’s face softens. one of the things he loves most about you is the fact that you’re not afraid to be yourself around him, never once hiding a smile or laugh. “anyway, is there anywhere you haven’t traveled?”

“hmm, let me think,” he raises his fingers to his chin and ponders momentarily, although the answer had come to him the moment you’d started to ask the question. “well, there’s your house.”

you shake your head, nudging his wrist with your own. “noooo, i’m talking about other countries and cities. haven’t you flown out of japan?” 

“only to okinawa,” he supplies, wings twitching anxiously. whenever he brings up your home in the city or worse, him going to it, you always clam up or push him away. granted, it was a boundary line you’d marked in the sand when you’d gotten into this reciprocal relationship all those months ago. escapades have taken place everywhere but your home—he could count on one hand the amount of times he’d mentioned doing it at your place, only to end up on a random rooftop or in an empty alleyway. ever the quick learner, keigo learned not to bring it up. but now, when he’s considering all the variables involved when it comes to confessing to you, he can’t help but feel that it’s necessary to see your house at least once.

sweat rolls down his spine and he unconsciously tugs at his fitted shirt, feeling the heatwaves brought on from both the liquor and the crowded atmosphere of the bar. there’s so many people walking behind the two of you, so much noise, so many bodies all in one space — he feels a little trapped.

“i’ve never been,” you say, derailing his train of thought as you drain your third drink of the night and then flag down the bartender for another. “it’s supposed to be a great vacation spot, though.”

he wipes away the sweat from his forehead with his arm and finishes his drink before nodding your way, wings fidgeting behind him. “it really is, dovey. you wanna take off after another drink or two?”

two glasses slide on the counter, the sides dripping with condensation and cold to the touch. it’s nice to feel in his hands, and he feels his nerves calming after a few long sips. “sounds good,” you answer, feeling hot yourself. the edges of everything in the room seem to blur, thanks to the halos circling the dim bar lights. “you might have to carry me out of here, though.”

“oh, i don’t mind,” keigo answers with a smirk that you can hear in his voice before looking up at him, “but only if you promise you’ll hold on tightly.”

“yes, keigo,” you drawl, scooting your barstool a few inches closer to him. he follows your shameless eyes, tracing your weighted stare to the small gold chain around his neck. it makes a tinkling sound when keigo loops a finger beneath it, hazy eyes meeting your own.

“can’t stop staring, can you?”

you automatically roll your eyes and look away, although your heart starts to race with anticipation. it should be an innocent question, but keigo’s words roll off his tongue in a way that is loaded with his unique charm and flirtatiousness. in a matter of seconds, you’re overthinking the question and the certain innuendo behind it; your breaths come in shallow pants that are just barely audible, and a finger slips beneath your chin to tip your head up. 

keigo leans in, lips barely grazing the shell of your ear. “gettin’ all worked up and i haven’t even touched you? that’s a first for you, baby.”

just stop it, you think, yet you’re unable to turn away. damn, he’s got you right where he wants you, and he knows it — keigo shoots you a knowing smile when he notices your thighs unconsciously squeeze together. it’s so hot in this bar, and it only grows hotter in his presence; an uncontrollable shiver races up your spine and you shakily reach for your drink. “stop it, kei.”

your words are shaky, and his wings twitch triumphantly behind him, feathers slightly puffing up. the dewy glass slips right out of your hand and splashes all over your blouse, sticky tequila soaking all the way through to your bra and dampening your chest. keigo stifles a snicker and plucks the glass out of your lap, a little bit of liquid still sloshing around inside it.

“that—that was your fault,” you drop a loose ice cube into the remains of your drink and glare at him angrily as he dabs a handful of napkins against your chest, unabashedly looking over the shrinking fabric. now that it’s all wet, it clings to every inch of your chest and emphasizes the outline of your tits.

“oh, but i wasn’t holding the drink,” keigo clicks his tongue and sends you a wink, sweat shining on his forehead. 

“someone has to foot the bill,” you grouse, sourly blaming him for your now stained blouse and sticky chest. then, it hits you—neither of you are drunk enough to leave the bar. after flagging down the bartender and requesting six shots, you look at keigo competitively. “listen up. whoever finishes the shots first wins and doesn’t have to pay.”

“really, a drinking challenge?” keigo grumbles, knowing you have a better chance of winning. normally, he wouldn’t mind paying for you, but you’ve challenged him and might risk covering the bill you’ve both racked up. his head is fuzzy, but one thought is clear: he won’t let you.

“yes, really,” you shoot back, nose crinkling at the smell of the liquor all on its own in the shot glasses. it’s not sweet and there’s no chaser, but you’re determined to fight your gag reflex as it goes down. “ready?”

“i’m ready,” keigo sighs, lifting a shot glass. 

it ends faster than the alcohol was poured. you’re proud to have won, and keigo doesn’t let on the fact that he assisted you. despite the liquid fire burning your throat, you’re happy—too happy; this is the most drunk that keigo has ever seen you, and he’s in the same boat as you, looking for the oars.

he nearly forgets his card when he struggles to his feet and walks out of the bar with you, right into the not-so-dark nighttime of the city. all of the streetlights are fuzzy and the sounds of racing cars are muffled; this is a different area of the city and it takes a moment for you to register where you are in relation to keigo’s apartment.

“dovey,” he says, cheeks flushed a bright red, “do you wanna go to my place?”

strong, possessive hands find your waist and pull you close, pressing your damp chest against his. those gold eyes of his search your face carefully, as if he’s taking in your features and committing them to memory or looking for something he’s intent on finding. 

your hand settles on his cheek and you pull him forward for a kiss on the busy street, not caring about who sees or writes about it. you’re in your own world, thinking of nothing but keigo and his plush, yearning mouth—he’s got the sense to pull away before it goes further, vaguely gesturing for you to turn around. when you oblige, he wraps his arms around you and under your own, holding you securely against his chest.

“i’ll treat you to a little night flight.”

vermilion wings beat the air powerfully, kicking up dust and litter along the sidewalk as keigo lifts you off the ground and into the sky. you’re shocked and speechless as you look over the city from above, thousands of buildings endlessly illuminated with light and color from the entertainment district. “it’s beautiful up here,” you breathe, feeling a little less drunk now that chill air washes over your face and cools you down. “why didn’t you invite me up here sooner?”

keigo laughs, riding on the wind and becoming one with it. “i did, you just never took me up on it. as to why, i don’t know.”

everything’s so much clearer from up here. the view is impeccable, and the air is fresh, free of the different scents of the city — exhaust fumes, restaurants, cigarettes, the occasional incense store. you’re shivering, a little too cold from the breeze blowing through your damp blouse, but being pressed against keigo’s warm chest makes it more bearable. something prods at the back of your drunken mind, a thought you’ve pushed away each time it arrives.

keigo thinks he’s slick. he thinks you don’t notice his lingering gazes, the odd way he tries to snuggle up to you every time you finish having sex, or the acute tenderness written all over his face every now and then when he’s talking to you.

but you do. you notice it, each and every time—in fact, you know exactly what all of this behavior stems from, but you choose to ignore it. clearly, keigo is in love with you. it’s evident in his actions and body language, yet he hasn’t actually said anything. it’s so damn easy to notice and understand because you feel the same, you’re just better at hiding it. something about the idea of a relationship with the no. 2 pro hero of japan is daunting — not only because you’re his agent or you’ll constantly have to face the public, but because there’s a possibility that transitioning into something more from being friends with benefits may be too dramatic of a change. 

“oh, fuck,” keigo groans, getting lost in the myriad of lights and buildings below. he doesn’t know where the hell his apartment is and isn’t sure if he has the time to fly around for a half hour looking for it.

“what’s wrong?” you ask worriedly, suddenly aware of the fact that your legs are dangling in the air. in order to preserve his pride and sensitive ego, you don’t bring up anything about him dropping you, but your body tenses.

“it’s the shots,” he grouses, speaking quickly, “they’re gonna come back up.”

“where’s your apartment?”

“i don’t know,” keigo answers, and now you can hear him starting to gag as he forces the contents of his stomach back down. “i can’t keep flying around much longer . . sorry to cut this little flight short, baby.”

“it’s okay, just don’t get sick,” you reassure him slowly, trying to pinpoint your own apartment. surprisingly, the building is a minute or two away from you, if he flies fast enough. “keigo, we’ll head to my place. see that dark building right there, near the red billboard?”

he nods, and the waves of nausea evaporate instantly. after months, he’s finally going to see your apartment—he’s now leagues closer to successfully confessing his feelings to you. keigo’s heavy wings slice through the sky as he hurdles toward your apartment; while the speed is steady, the course is not. from below, people watch as something wobbles through the sky, shifting awkwardly from side to side in a way that isn’t at all graceful . . or intimidating.

you assume he really has to throw up, when it’s quite the opposite. “k-keigo, see that balcony with the potted plants? there’s only one pot of flowers.”

“is that yours?” he asks, struggling to control how giddy he is. “i see it.”

☆ ☆

with the solid, familiar ground of the balcony beneath your feet, things around you are a little steadier. still, the alcohol buzzes persistently in your head and makes you giggle over nothing. it’s warmer now that you’re out of the sky, standing close to keigo and surrounded by all of your potted plants. a pleasant tingling sensation courses through your limbs as your body wobbles, adjusting to being out of the air and the new thoughts that rush into your head.

everything’s still a little fuzzy at the edges, a reminder of your tipsiness and disorientation. keigo wraps a supportive arm around your waist when you nearly stumble to the ground, quietly giggling at your own actions and sighing contentedly in his grip. there’s a beat of silence as your body meshes into his, the kind that settles between two people who’ve just shared a long day, and it feels so natural that your mind absently drifts to two pairs of shoes beside one another and two cups of coffee in the mornings—perhaps you didn’t notice the routine you’ve slipped into, one so innate that it makes everything else feel a little less important.

“hey, did i mention how sexy you are when you’re drunk, dovey?” keigo hiccups, wings quivering as he leans on you for some support, struggling to balance just like you are. his knuckles nudge into your side gently, grin widening as if he’s waiting for a reaction from you. the playful edge to his voice falters momentarily, and you exhale through your nose, shaking your head in disbelief.

“ugh, you must’ve had much more than i thought,” you laugh, kicking the doormat up and retrieving the brass key from beneath it to unlock the door. it’s dark out here on the porch and the same inside, leading you to awkwardly jam the key into the lock.

“you always blow me off,” he sighs ruefully, smile dropping as he notices you using the key upside down. “what, do i embarrass you or something?”

“i-it’s not that,” you breathe, tensing the moment his chest presses against your back and his hand envelops yours to help you with the key. goosebumps rise on the tender flesh of your arms first, then all over your chest, beneath your damp blouse. you recover once the lock gives, sliding the heavy glass door open and catching your breath. “kei, you’ve always got something to say to me.”

“you, of all people, have the power to shut me up whenever you want,” keigo teases, following you into your quaint apartment. instead of appreciating the moment, his mind races to find an answer to the million-dollar question: why were you so intent on keeping him out of here? even in total darkness, the place is cozy, shelves adorned with knickknacks and décor that suits you. totally lost in concentration, keigo’s wings bristle and he accidentally knocks something off a shelf, but manages to catch it in his hand. you’re in the middle of saying something, but he doesn’t even notice, his eyes completely lighting up at the sight of the object.

“is this that glass bird i gave you all those months ago?” 

a nervous laugh rushes past your lips and you nod, hand falling away from the light switch. “yeah, i thought it looked nice up there. it’s pretty.”

“wow, baby,” he gingerly puts the figurine back in its place, elated by the possible significance that this little glass bird holds. “if i’d known you liked it that much, i would’ve showered you in gifts.”

in the middle of unbuttoning your blouse, you trip over your own foot, and keigo, ever the hero, catches you as gently as he did the figurine. his fingers splay across your bare side and you blink up at him, faced with another small gap that’s dying to be closed. “i know what i want as a gift,” you utter, voice low and sultry. the words seem to hang in the air like more of a promise than a request.

keigo can smell the liquor on your breath and the temptation that accompanies it—without a second thought, his lips are on yours and he’s pushing forward with alcohol buzzing in his veins. he’s so full of hope, believing the best over what he’s considered a sign of something more; it feels so right to kiss you like this, with his hands spanning your bare waist and tugging gently at your waistband. it doesn’t quite occur to him that he is inebriated and therefore may not be thinking as sharply as he would if he were sober in this situation. 

you shove forward, pushing him hard into a wall and nipping at his lips hungrily. despite being a little bothered by him being in your apartment, you can’t say you’re not interested in fucking on your own bed for once. a shaky gasp leaves you when you pull away for breath, stomach fluttering delightedly at the hardness of his cock pressing into your thigh.

his breath hitches in his throat, hazy mind racing a thousand miles an hour. the question leaves his lips with more urgency than intended. “i—shit, you really want me to take you right here?”

“in the hallway?” you laugh, astonished. “i’d much prefer my bed, it’s easier for you to fuck me as hard as you want.”

desire and lust conducts your actions, has you dropping your blouse to the floor and unclasping your bra next. each article of clothing falls to the floor in a heap, forming a trail leading to the bedroom door. keigo follows your lead, wings jittering with anticipation as he crosses the threshold. billowy curtains blow up and around the window, lifted by the night breeze, and your room is dark, the details barely visible: keigo notices the many pillows on your bed (so that’s why you were on his ass about buying more than just one) and the full length mirror off to the side.

keigo stops to glance at his reflection in the mirror, fraught with the sculpted curves of muscle—each line a testament to years of hard work and dedication. dark hickeys litter his tanned skin, all left behind from the heat of many moments. momentarily, his eyes shift from the glass to you, perched on the bed and waiting for him. his fingers subconsciously graze over one of the marks, just as he recalls one of your rules, a line that had been drawn in the sand early on—no marks, nowhere near your neck or anywhere at all, even if people couldn’t see them. 

it’s a curious little thing, isn’t it? you clearly have no qualms about marking up his body, but you never let him give you some in return—he hasn’t voiced it, not yet. he exhales softly, feeling the ache between his legs flare once you call his name expectantly. it’s like a switch flips, causing his mind to sharpen and his pulse to quicken when he steps toward you.

bathed in opalescent moonlight, you sit back against your makeshift throne of pillows, eyes raking over him shamelessly, as if you’re looking for something else to sink your teeth into. vermilion feathers puff up and shake themselves out as the bed dips beneath his weight. “come here,” he beckons you lowly, with every intention of making you his. “you’re mine, aren’t you?”

now mussed with abundant wrinkles, the bedspread shifts beneath your bodies as keigo slots himself on top of you and hastily kisses down your neck, lightly nipping at the tender skin, just enough to elicit soft moans from you. doubt melts into desire, lacing his ministrations with something more urgent. for six months, keigo has never seen or left a single mark on you, and tonight, that’s about to change—you’ve already broken the biggest rule you had by bringing him to your apartment, so how much further could this go? 

“yeah, ‘m all yours,” you whine, back arching off the bed when he bites at the soft skin of your tits, tongue lapping away the sticky tequila you spilled earlier. it’s so different—he can’t believe he went this long without making any objections. 

things are heating up fast, and that haziness from the liquor creeps up on both of you, blurring your thoughts just enough. his hips chase yours into the bed, and he eagerly grinds his hardened cock against your thighs, all over them. your voice cracks slightly when you try to moan his name, impatient as always. but keigo decides to take his time with you, kissing and biting longer than usual—he’s in no rush, not yet.

it’s intoxicating in every way possible, causing your body to swelter and thrash beneath his own. keigo’s moving fast, delighting in your pleasure and drinking in every reaction unapologetically. fuck, to think you’d denied him and yourself for so long—he should make it up to you somehow, shouldn’t he?

“dovey,” he pants, fingers slipping under the fabric of the panties appreciatively, “you wore my favorites?”

crimson fabric adorns your waistline, threaded with soft lace. for lingerie, it’s pretty comfortable: it doesn’t floss your asshole like a thong or g-string does, something you’d told keigo when you tried it on in the dressing room. he knew he’d be buying it the moment you stepped out with a bright smile on your face. seeing it on you now is surreal, and he nearly creams his boxers at the sight of it, wings conveying his thoughts for him through a tremble.

your hips rise up and off the bed so he can pull away the last bit of fabric that covers your body. “yeah, but it doesn’t matter now,” you titter cheekily, shockwaves of arousal shooting straight between your thighs.

unceremoniously, your legs are thrown open and keigo’s wings flutter in amusement, always the first thing to react to whatever you have to say. “it matters to them,” keigo comments, jerking a thumb back to point at his pesky wings, “fair warning, this place might be a mess by the end of this.”

“so long as you help me deal with it tomorrow, i don’t mind,” your fingers swipe his cooling spit off your chest, and you’re a little startled as you press at a fresh hickey. it’s sticky, skin now sensitive and tingling in a way that’s just right.

fierce as always, keigo doesn’t waste any time diving between your legs, eager to fuck but even more so to eat your pussy. glistening strings of slick stick to the tender skin of your inner thighs, connecting them to each other thinly until he licks it away. “mmm, dovey,” he moans adoringly, and your pulse quickens, “taste so goddamn sweet.”

keigo’s a proud pussy eater, the filthiest and best you’ve ever met. he could be gasping for air with his face covered in your cum and yet, he’d still have something utterly nasty to say. unapologetically nose deep, he slurps loudly at your soaking cunt and pins your antsy legs down over his shoulders. 

“ngh, keigo,” you thrash forward, thighs squeezing his head like a vice while your hips uncontrollably buck into his face. “please don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—”

“keep squirming around like that and i will,” he grunts, one hand pressing you down into the bed while the other pushes between your thighs. those tenacious gold eyes of his are hooded now, gleaming rapturously as he devours everything you have to give him like he’s been starving. loud, sloppy slurps soon fill the room, falling into cadence with your whiny moans; scarlet feathers ruffle in response to his most favorite sounds, and his hips rut carelessly into the mattress, desperately seeking friction.

your head falls back into the downy pillows, jaw dropping slackly as you unsteadily sneak a hand down to your clit, fingers seeking to rub a lustful itch away. keigo’s fingers wrap around your wrist and snatch it away from your pussy, instead guiding your hand to his head in a show of acquiescence. 

“don’t go doing that,” he groans, pulling up for air and pressing a thumb to your swollen clit hard enough to make your eyes roll back into your skull, “use your words instead, dovey.”

you weakly nod his way, and a sudden, swift slap is delivered right to your clit, the force behind it causing you to see stars. a twisted yelp tears from your throat, and you’re doe eyed when you tearfully glance down at him, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“gotta work on using your words, baby,” keigo coos, thumbing away a stray tear from your cheek. “jus’ trying to make you understand that i need you to tell me what you want.”

there’s a dark edge to his voice that makes the apologetic tone he’s taken on seem ingenuine, almost a little mocking. and yet, you let out a sweet moan, leaning into his touch with a hushed, “yeah, kei. i understand.”

still reeling from the tingling impact of the pussy slap, you guide his head back down between your legs and unsteadily grind into his mouth. he greedily drinks you in, smacking his lips like he can’t get enough of your honeyed taste, and unconsciously pulling you closer. his fingers rub tight circles into your throbbing clit, occasionally pinching the bud to elicit a scream or two before letting go.

keigo had always been taught not to play with his food—but when she’s quaking against his face and sobbing out his name over and over, he just can’t help himself. he’s had a perpetual  mean streak that he’s only ever unleashed during sex with you, taking an overwhelming satisfaction in fucking you dumb and then teasing you about it. he notices the way your thighs tense at either side of his head, the way your head falls back whenever he tenses his tongue.

your clammy fingers claw through blonde curls, saccharine moans spilling from your lips with each ravenous push of his tongue through your folds. it’s a push and pull rhythm that is nothing less than addictive, dragging out the air from your lungs and leaving you utterly breathless. 

“g-god, keigo,” you keen loudly, shoving him down without any regard for his ability to breathe, “need you to—i need you to fuck me with your tongue.”

he groans in response, shamelessly humping the bed now that the ache between his legs has become too prominent to ignore. it flares dangerously every time you say his name or look at him with that blissed out expression written all over your face . . fuck, now you’re telling him exactly what you want and pushing him around, something he’s always enjoyed. his tongue slips into your awaiting cunt and pushes deep, tasting even more of you once he finds that puffy, spongy spot inside of you that makes you clench up every damn time. 

your breaths come in rushed, frantic gasps that soften each word. “fuuuck, right there—yeah, t-that’s it,” your voice shakes involuntarily, tight with inevitable euphoria. “kei, you’re gonna make me cum, hah—‘m real close, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

you chant those last words religiously, and keigo’s offended that you’re thinking he’d ever want to. “on my fuckin’ tongue,” he half groans, half begs, not sure if you even hear him at all.

keigo doesn’t dare to stop until you finally come undone on his tongue, shuddering uncontrollably as he licks you through your high, nearly passing out from a severe lack of oxygen. you’ve got him in a beautiful leglock that he regrets breaking out of, but seeing the dazed, drunken look on your face when he comes up erases the thought from his mind. the entire half of his lower face is covered in your cum, and heat floods your face when his pink tongue darts out to clean up his lips, all while holding your lidded gaze.

a few sanguine feathers float around your face, falling from the air like snowflakes and lightly settling on the bed like rose petals. it seems to make the moment warmer, more romantic as if this is your first time with him—in hindsight, it would’ve been nicer to christen the relationship with a bed of rose petals and scented candles scattered around the room. instead, it was something that happened fast and right after conversations about ex partners.

you pout at him as he positions himself on top of you once again, pressing a wet kiss to your mouth. instinctively, you lick away the mixture of spit and slick he leaves on your lips, tasting yourself on your tongue momentarily. it’s bittersweet and a little syrupy . . maybe he really isn’t lying about you tasting like candy. your thoughts fade away when you catch a glimpse of his vibrant wings — you’ve always seen them, but not like this. this time, you’re up close to them, so close you can see the downy barbs and delicate vanes of each individual feather.

“are your wings . . sensitive?” you ask curiously, voice carrying the barest note of reverence as your hand tentatively inches over his shoulder. after each and every covert tryst of yours, you’ve seen keigo smooth out the feathers or greet you in the morning with stimulating news of his freshly scrubbed wings. but this—touching them—feels like crossing an unspoken threshold.

keigo doesn’t answer, his breath catching in his throat. he’d been in the middle of dazedly tugging his boxers down his body when you’d just dropped a miniature bomb on him. this is the first time that he’s been this astonished, features mellowing profoundly. soon, he finds his voice and uses it, words intertwined with an unexpected tenderness: “ . . it’s alright. they’re just a little sensitive, heh. nobody’s ever touched them before.”

as if they understand you’re talking about them, his wings shift toward your fingers, obviously inviting you to touch them. this is certainly new — for the first time, his defiant wings are actually yearning to be touched, even though they get a little choosy when it’s him who’s brushing his hands through the feathers. gingerly, you reach forward and your hand disappears into the mussed feathers, fingertips brushing lightly against the sensitive skin beneath. the apex of his wings is abundant with small, downy feathers that quiver at your touch.

his eyelids flutter shut and he emits a shy moan, swallowing a sudden heart-shaped lump in his throat. courage swells in your chest and you push further, awed by the all-encompassing softness that meets your fingers. you’d expected them to be coarse, rough from years of flying and smelling earthy or musky. the faint scent of mango wafts through the air, stirring up a sense of familiarity and comfort in your chest, reminding you of all the times he’d protectively wrap his wings around your body as if to steady you. 

“they feel so nice,” you murmur, feeling his cock throb against your thigh. it draws you back into the moment, where you’re naked beneath him with anticipatory legs sprawled open. “so . . soft.”

keigo’s buzzing when you experimentally stroke your fingers through the thin feathers, an intimate form of worship that is only understood between the two of you. “you, ah, didn’t expect them to be?”

a wind created by his flapping wings kick up your curtains and make the metal rings clatter on the bar they’re hanging on. “i thought they’d be a little rougher,” you purr, voice smooth and sultry as your legs lift, locking tightly around his waist. his v-line is visibly sharp and hard to the touch like cut marble against the pillowy skin of your thighs, muscles flexing as he guides his cock to your soaked pussy. 

“i’ll show you rough, dovey,” keigo huffs, smearing his cock with your slick and pulling your legs away from his sides. he’s going to fuck you up, and he can’t do it properly in this position—your feet are thrown haphazardly over his shoulders, thighs folded tightly against your chest. he’s painfully hard, leaking sticky precum all over and trembling by the time he pushes the tip of his cock between your folds. your response is immediate; an eager moan slips out of your mouth, hips bucking impatiently onto his cock.

“damn, baby,” his chest heaves tirelessly, skin flushed pink and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, “you’re ready f’me, aren’t you?”

you look up at him with dewy eyes, electricity shooting through your every nerve. “i-if i was made for—ah—anything, it was taking your cock.”

god, you can’t just say shit like that and cluelessly think he won’t actually fall in love with you—he was only asking for a simple ‘yes’, but now he’s got hearts in his eyes as he finally pushes inside you, swallowing down the sudden urge to blow his load this fast. pulsating, gummy walls wrap around him and seem to suck him deeper without him even moving; he weakly presses his head into your shoulder, gasping frantically as he tries to adjust to the grip you’ve got on him.

“f-fuckkk,” he stutters out, regaining his cool composure after a moment despite the room feeling like a sauna, “i’m gonna hold you to that, you better not forget it.”

he’s relentless, going from zero to sixty in a second with no thoughts of slowing down — he’s jackhammering his hips, curved cock ramming right into your sweet spot and french kissing your cervix. you’re dripping wet, slick pouring down your ass and making each thrust slip ‘n slide all the more smoothly; the bed creaks ceaselessly beneath the weight of your bodies, groaning so loudly it occurs to you that it might just break. but that isn’t even a problem, not with keigo, who’d drop a ton of money on something you could just express the slightest bit of interest in.

“h-holy fuck, keigo,” you gasp out, back arching off the bed, “i could—oh my god, i could cum just from this.”

“yeah, dovey?” he grins, voice tight as he quite literally plunges deeper into heaven. “jus’ from my cock?”

sweat beads on your forehead, making your body swelter with endless steam that seems to vaporize any inhibitions you still had after all the drinks. “nghh, w-wait, ‘m gonna cum—”

“wait?” keigo practically barks out a laugh, shaking his head ruefully at you, “there’s no waiting. i want you to cum right on my cock ‘n i’ll fuck you through it, dovey.” 

you nod with mascara infused tears streaming down your face, legs quaking uncontrollably. everything seems to happen at once — a twinge of pain takes root in the backs of your thighs just as the built-up tension inside you snaps into thousands of sparks, finally igniting your long awaited orgasm.

keigo forces himself to keep his eyes open despite the fact that he’s risking an early orgasm, balls clenching at the sight of you: your lips form an o shape as euphoria washes over you, making your body quiver frenetically. he swallows dryly, closely rocking his hips against yours so you don’t push him out. 

“kei,” is the first thing you sob out when you recover, struggling to catch your breath with every thrust fucking the air out of your lungs. you’re sensitive all over, skin prickling with heat that doesn’t cool even with his wings creating a draft. 

he’s straining tight at the seams, heart pounding in his ears as he thinks of nothing but you.

you, you, you.

with your sweet, glossy-lipped smile in the mornings and the voice of a vixen when you innocently call his name. you’re nothing less than beautiful beneath him, clawing at his shoulders and staring up at him with those glazed over, blissed out eyes while your body molds against his. it’s a shape he knows well, one he’s pictured in his head when he’s all alone, one he’s been dreaming about whenever his eyes close.

his breath catches in his throat. “haah, fuck—dovey, i can’t hold it anymore.”

“right fuckin’ there,” your voice cracks into a squeal, “mhm, jus’ cum inside me.”

“you mean it?” keigo asks dumbly, nearly melting at the wild look you throw him in response.

“yeah, kei—shit, ‘m gonna cum again,” the words rush past your lips, urgent as ever and spurring him on to keep going, “i want you to—i need you to fill me up.”

something sweet flashes behind his gold eyes and he tucks his face into your shoulder, breath coming in frantic pants while he gasps your name. you’re practically in your own world, moaning loudly and dragging his slim hips closer to your own. when his cock starts to twitch deep inside you, the heel of your palm digs into his lower back, forcing his tip right against your cervix. he’s burning hot, utterly lost in you with no way of finding his way out — cum spurts from his cock and the spasms wrack his body, each stripping away a layer of him until he’s left with only his heart in his hands. 

“i fucking love you,” it rushes out and he doesn’t regret it for a second, “god, baby. i love you so much.”

your eyes roll back as your body surrenders to the toe-curling sensation of your third orgasm of the night, euphoria hitting you from all directions and rendering you clinically cock drunk. you muster just enough strength to wipe the salty tears away from your eyes, teeth chattering just the slightest bit as you drag in a gasping breath. 

after a moment, you yawn, stretching out your folded body and nudging at his chest to get him to lay down beside you. “ooh, that was great, kei. there’s no fucking way i’m walking tomorrow.”

coming down is the hardest part.

keigo’s shaken to his core by your flippant response to his confession, but most of all, he’s deeply embarrassed to have said something—no, to have thought something this stupid. finally, he’s getting a taste of karma from all of his failed relationships; he wishes that he could allow himself enough pity to ask the abyss of the universe what he did to deserve this. the heat that had once been sexy dissipates immediately, leaving him as cold as a corpse. he rolls over to the side, letting go of you and staring up at the ceiling, laying on top of wings that don’t even have enough life to twitch. pathetic tears prick at the corners of his marked eyes, and for the first time, he’s happy that the lights are off.

“keigo? did you hear me?”

“sorry, i didn’t. what was it you were saying?” he drags a forearm across his sweaty forehead, overlooking the tender inflection in your voice.

“i just . . i don’t know. that was really good,” he may not hear it, but you do. quickly, you clear your throat and tug up the blankets, inviting him to crawl underneath with you. “goodnight, kei.”

he should bite his tongue, but he doesn’t; this is the last time. “goodnight, dovey.”

☆ ☆

after tossing and turning the whole night, keigo finally decides to end the torture at 5:20 am the next morning. it’s still dark out, and he figures that he can easily slip away under the cover of night. he’s got a mild hangover, but it won’t impair him, not when he’s determined to keep it together until he gets back home.

soberly, he absorbs his surroundings and recalls the memories that have been plaguing him for hours. his body tenses, thick cords of muscle pulling taut as if he’s bracing against the impact of a punch, and like it has countless times before, the scene replays in his head again. his emotional, devoted admission of love was something you’d completely ignored—again and again, you’ve only ever shown an interest in his body.

in his chest, he feels his heart clench horribly as he looks over your sleeping form. you’re curled up in yourself under the warm blankets, turned toward him with a serene look on your face that makes it all the more difficult to slip out from under the sheets and into the cold. like a cat, he silently pads into the hallway and collects his clothes as if he was never there. he’s inches away from the back door he’d been so excited to step through last night when he stops in his tracks, head hanging lowly as pangs of guilt hit him like fists. it’s not right to just leave you like this, not without making an effort to say some kind of goodbye.

keigo hesitates in the hallway, feet seemingly glued to the floor. all he can hear are loud alarm bells—every instinct is begging him to leave, to spare himself the imminent heartbreak of going back in that room to see you. against his better judgment, he eventually tiptoes into your room with every intention of giving you one final kiss. at your bedside, he bends forward and presses his lips to your forehead; the kiss is entirely chaste, the brief touch carrying a blend of quiet grief and the tenderness of a love that was bound to fall through.

like most things in his life, this kiss doesn’t go as planned. there’s a momentary flash of blue and white—he’s managed to give you a strong, accidental static shock with an innocent kiss at 5:22 in the morning. you blearily wake up, squinting up at him in confusion and making out the high collar of his hero jacket.

“good morning, keigo,” you stretch under the blankets and reach for his hand, “what—what time is it?”

“it’s early,” he answers unsurely, sitting down on the foot of the bed. his wings droop, vermilion plumes seemingly inanimate. “y’know what, don’t worry about it. go back to sleep, baby.”

“but where’re you going?” you sit up abruptly, eyes narrowing at his fully clothed body. a glance over the edge of the bed reveals that he’s even got his boots on! 

“i’ve got patrol, silly,” keigo picks the easiest excuse out of an array of choices, and you sniff it out immediately. “i’m a hero, remember?” silence hangs in the air for a moment before you slowly speak up, sounding more confused than anything else. “but saturdays and sundays are your off days.”

keigo pauses, tongue sliding over his teeth as he contemplates what to say now that he’s been caught in his lie. like an idiot, he’s managed to trap himself. you scoff, cognitive functions coming to back to life as the final vestiges of sleep fade away into the ruined morning. did he actually expect you to wake up naked and hungover, all by yourself?

“okay, you caught me. i’ve got some stuff to deal with.”

“this early? c’mon, why’re you in such a rush?”

ultimately, it’s best for the both of you if he pulls away.

keigo’s usual smile drops and he sighs, “i’ve got shit to do, okay?”

it’s this early in the morning, and your blood pressure is already spiking in a way that is most undesirable. “are you fucking kidding me, keigo?”

the way you say his name so angrily, so accusingly—it fucking irks him, causing the corners of his lips to pull downwards into a scowl. he’s not really angry at you, he’s angry at himself for causing this dilemma to begin with, but you don’t know that. how could you really know anything about him aside from the way he likes to fuck?

“why are you getting so damn pissy? i’m going to leave whether you want me to or not, okay?”

stark naked, you exit the safety of the bed and make a beeline to your dresser, where you yank open drawers in search of clothes. keigo stands, watching longingly as you pull on some panties and a bra.

“i’m getting pissy because you wanted to take off so i could wake up naked and alone! you didn’t even say goodbye.”

“i was trying to,” keigo argues back, jumping to his feet, “but you were the one who ruined that for yourself, didn’t you?”

“a kiss isn’t enough!” you snap, now covered in a loose t shirt and pajama shorts. “couldn’t you have just waited a few hours? maybe then you could’ve told me why you were leaving.”

“what the hell? so you’re saying i need a reason to go back to my own house?”

“i don’t see why you think you can lie to me!” your voice raises furiously, words sharp as daggers, “i’m not just your agent, keigo. i know you, i care about you! don’t you get that?”

it’s quickly evolved into a dangerous game of catch, the pressure to be the one to drop the ball growing heavier atop his shoulders with each passing moment. painfully, a vein in his forehead pulses from the headache brought on by the hangover and the memories that follow it. it’s been hours and he can’t seem to shake away the pain that gnaws away at him. he’s so stupid.

“yeah, i know you are,” keigo grits out bitterly, “all i wanted to do was leave.”

“so abruptly?” you press him for answers, flicking on a small lamp so you can see him clearly. deep wrinkles span the entirety of each article of clothing that hangs on his body, but it’s the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes that makes him look unusually sloppy, getting you to pause as you take the sight of him in. concerned for his wellbeing, you soften, body relaxing. “what—keigo, what’s wrong?”

“it’s just the hangover,” he squints defensively, backing away and into a corner, “anyway, you got your goodbye, didn’t you?”

your gentle, worried face falls away. it hurts more than any injury he’s ever gotten, but he has to keep the walls up to protect himself from the pain even though guilt slips in through the cracks like mustard gas. with a pinched sigh, keigo backs away from the wall, wings limply hanging behind him as he prepares to exit your bedroom with no intention of ever coming back.

he’s blindsiding you, lying to you out of nowhere and slipping through your fingers like steam, too elusive for his own good. without a second thought, you close the distance and grab firmly at his wrist, a gesture that would’ve worked once. “i can’t do this anymore,” he mutters without looking over his shoulder, snatching away from you as if he’s been burned. “i just . . i can’t.”

“what’re you—what do you mean, keigo?” he looks out into the distance of the hallway, focusing on a specific floor tile and tracing its grooves so he doesn’t have to see your face. just from your voice, he knows you must be absolutely crushed. for courage, he allows himself a steady inhale before stepping past the threshold and leaving you in the lurch.

“this,” keigo turns, gesturing wildly and spitting out the words as if everything that’s happened in this room is horribly filthy, “it’s bullshit, all of it. i’m done, got that?”

there’s a beat of silence, and keigo stays a second too long.

“keigo, you’re breaking my heart here.”

you’re probably referring to the sex, aren’t you? surely you’re disappointed by the fact that you’ll no longer be fucking the no. 2 hero, petting his wings and calling him by a name few are able to.

“oh, come on,” he looks over you sourly, shaking his head as his eyes span the entirety of your body, “you’re pretty. you’ll find yourself a new fuck buddy, it’s not that big of a deal.”

immediately, he regrets saying it, feeling a rush of nausea in his stomach—he doesn’t want you with anyone else.

you blink back tears, his stare suddenly invasive and hurtful. “i don’t want a new fuck buddy, i want you.”

“tough shit,” keigo grunts, wings drooping further down. the longest feathers now drag along the floor, picking up whatever there is to offer. “i’m done being friends with benefits.”

“i just—all this fucking time, i’ve been wasting my time wanting to be with you,” the words tumble out of you bitterly, filling up the space between you with everything you’ve ever wanted to say, and his ears prick, grasping at a possible implication beneath all of it, “god, to think i was afraid we wouldn’t be able to become something more—all of this was a mistake.”

keigo pauses, heart pounding in his ears and possibly affecting his ability to hear. “you’re . . in love with me?”

“i was,” the correction is swift and choked, reverberating straight to his core and making his body stiffen. it hurts more than anything to hear, carrying a horrible weight, the kind that makes him realize you’ve given up on him.

“then why didn’t you—that doesn’t make any sense,” he gasps, the newfound information hitting him like a freight train, “if you were in love with me, why didn’t you—how couldn’t you have said something?”

“what’re you talking about?” you hiss, harshly rubbing away the tears in your eyes with the back of your hand. keigo’s bewildered now, face devoid of anything but shock and some kind of adoration as he seems to process something inside his head.

he stares at you desperately, struggling for the right words, “fuck, dovey, why didn’t you say anything last night?”

“don’t call me that,” you snap, the petname far too fond for a moment like this one, “why would i possibly have said something last night?”

keigo falters, and his voice cracks as the words rush out like a torrent. “i told you that i—god, i fucking told you i loved you. didn’t you hear me?” 

oh.

oh.

his heart squeezes painfully in his chest when the realization washes over your face, making him realize the gravity of this misunderstanding—you didn’t hear him.

wearily, you take a seat on the edge of the bed. he sees the way your spine curves forward, and bites down hard on his lower lip once the first sob slips out of you. in an instant, keigo’s beside you and pulling you into his arms, shaking all over. he doesn’t know what to say, but his voice breaks with endless regret when he finally comes up with something. “i’m sorry, god, i’m so sorry,” tears race down his cheeks and into your hair as he murmurs despairingly, “i thought you didn’t care, i didn’t know—”

there’s nothing more to say. 

keigo tries anyway, brokenly whispering apologies that fade into the air like smoke. his arms are tight around your body, holding you closely — it’s an unspoken promise to never let you go again. for the very first time, he truly melts into you without the walls in the way or the burden of hidden feelings. when you slowly relax against him and your sobs become quieter, something shifts in the air. vermilion wings, once held down by the weight of everything they’ve been carrying, finally come back to life. wings that have had no other purpose but to protect keigo now extend outwards to protect you too, soft feathers cradling you tenderly in the quiet of the morning. just over the horizon, the sun begins to rise, bathing the city in the light of dawn and new beginnings.

[asexualbuthorny]

Oh god getting reborn as a hybrid fucked me up pt. 2

CW: abuse, general hybrid shennanigans, future nsfw, comfort, doubt, big boi is a touchstarved mf, i wrote this on my phone so the formating went to shit, enjoy

You've been at this shelter for a while now. People came and went but none wanted anything to do with you. The moment they saw that you were in a fighting ring the humans would briskly walk away from your pen. The fact that rottweilers were seen as agressive and brutish didn't help your situation. The scars on your body only amplified the fact that you were of the fighting sort. You were really tired of this game. You'd sometimes ask when they would finally put you down but the workers only smiled sadly and kept telling you that that wouldn't happen and that you were safe. What a bunch of liars.....

It was the start of another day at the shelter. You ate breakfast (the most delicious thing you've ever tasted) and began your people watching. Humans came and went, some hybrids ended up getting adopted, good for them you say. As you were lazing around a shadow suddenly appeared by the gate of your kennel. It was a human. The fear that was trained into you by previous owners made you instantly tense up and huddle in the furthest corner away from the person. "Awwww look at you. Such a big boy. Don't be shy I won't hurt you come come" the human becons you with a small motion of his hand. What are you supposed to do? Humans usually don't try to talk to you much less touch you. You looked around for one of the workers to come stop the man but noone was around to help you out of this situation. When you looked at the mans outstreched hand you remembered that your second owner would sometimes grab you by the cheeks to intimidate you. Was that what was happening here? You didn't know why this human wanted to scare you but you were too trained and scared to not comply. So with some hesitation you put your chin on top of the palm of his hand and waited for what would happen next.

Rozinth Valentina has been lonely for a long time now. Suddenly becoming richer than he could ever imagine left him with a rather large condo and more money than he could ever know what to do with. Hybrids had become a huge trend over the recent yearsand as much as Rozinth disliked the idea he found himself at one of the many hybrid shelters. 'If I'm going to get a hybrid at least I'm not going to pay those assholes who breed them' the young man thought as he stepped through the doors. The first thing that caught his eye was a giant rottweiler hybrid laying in the rays of the sun that were streaming in through one of the windows. 'He is absolutely..... ADORABLE!!!!' Rozinth internally squealed as he walked over to the kennel containing his future friend. The man saw a simple clipboard hanging on the door and took it off to examine it....

'Oh poor dear he's been through so much'. To say Rozinth was upset would have been an understatement. The amount of abuse the poor hybrid has suffered almost made him sick. Then the hybrids eyes were on him and the man could do nothing but watch as the teriffied hybrid scrambled to get as far away from him as possible. Now that was heartbreaking. Rozinth tried to call the big dog over but he just continued staring in fear at the human. Rozinth knew he couldn't give up and that this hybrid had to come home with him so he continued trying to get the dog to come to him. Just as Rozinth was begining to loose hope the hybrid laid his chin on the humans open palm and Rozinths heart melted. "You're just a big sweetie aren't you? Yes you're such a good boy!" The young man cooed as he began giving the dog hybrid scritches and pats...

'What is happening? This wasn't supposed to go this way' you thought as the human began petting your head and saying all sorts of praise. 'Did I do something good?' you wondere as you lent further into the gentle hands. If this is what being obedient got you with this guy you wouldn't mind killing and collecting more scars for him. Hell you'd even take a beating with a smile if it meant you got this after. Your enjoyment of the touch didn't last long as a worker came running up to the man and told him to "Please step back and refrain from touching the hybrids so carelessly. They might get spooked and we don't want to get in trouble if you get attacked" The human who was petting you huffed and with an almost incredulous look said "What do you mean attacked? As if this sweet boy could hurt me I mean look at him! He couldn't hurt a fly". The worker looked upset now. They were one you didn't particularly like as they were mean to you and enjoyed annoying you with loud noises. "Couldn't hurt-are you stupid? This thing is from a fighting ring the only thing it knows how to do is hurt!". You recoil at that. It wasn't your fault that the humans forced you to fight and you didn't want to die. The guy who pet you now looked furious. He looked rich so the shelter could get in trouble for insulting a rich guy. You knew their types.....

This-THIS ABSOLUTE ASSHOLE! How could this rando say that about the sweet hybrid. The poor boy was in a fighting ring? GEEE WONDER WHOS FUCKING FAULT IS THAT?! Rozinth decided then and there that he would adopt the poor rottie. "Hmph. I need to speak to the front desk. I have an adoption to make.". Rozinth declared as he marched away from the worker and the hybrid.....

You were standing outside the shelter with the man and you could not believe it. You got adoped by this seemingly gentle human. 'What could he want with me?' you thought as the man lead you to his car. "There we go big guy. I live rather far but the car is comfy so there's nothing to worry about" your new owner said as he got in to drivers side. "If you have any questions feel free to ask" "What do I call you?" you asked quietly because some humans liked having titles and whatnot and you didn't want to call him wrong and end up beaten. "My name is Rozinth" he chirrped and you knew you weren't getting more than that. Guess you're sticking to owner then. Well let's just hope this won't be any worse than all your other owners...

[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

→ premise: there existed no such cricumstances in which dean doesnt want your lips against his. bloodied, bruised, even with broken bones, a kiss from his girl makes it all better.

→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: tw: blood, fluff, but some sort of instense making out, established relationship, descriptions of blood and injuries, blood in mouth, nicknames [baby, sweetheart, my girl], reader is described a bit to have anxiety

→ a/n: as always i hope dean isn’t too out of character as i have never written for him! enjoy my loves :) and sorry its short.

A hunt had gone south they got the monster and it was done but Dean was injured, they were headed back to the bunker. That was all Sam spit out over the phone, normally you appreciated his ability to get straight to the point. Currently you were cursing it as he hung up shortly after cause he was the one driving back. You had a million and one questions running through your head and more than half of them weren’t good.

This was the part of the boys going off hunting and you staying back that you hated the most. When one of them got hurt or something went wrong and all you could do was sit there, a chill running down your spine as your blood boiled in your veins, anxiously pacing the living room, trying to not let yourself jump to the worst conclusions which you regularly failed to do.

You used to go on hunts with them and instead of you currently being the one riddled with anxiety, it was Dean. Once the two of you pulled your heads out of your asses (as Sam would say) and realized you’ve had feelings for each other for years, you got together. Being officially together seemed to make Dean's protective nature increase tenfold. He was even more terrified to lose you now than before. He began fussing over you whenever you'd get even the slightest scarpe or bump on a hunt. He would glue himself to your side the whole duration. Forcing you to normally stay back in the motel room when the hunt turned into a more dangerous situation than dean cared to put you in.

You loved Dean but it began to get a bit too tedious to deal with and even Sam made a comment on how overprotective he was being. In an attempt to make hunts go easier and ease your boyfriend's anxiety, once you all situated yourselfs in the bunker you suggested to him that you go out on hunts less, especially when they could now take Cas. Dean jumped at the suggestion but you couldn't blame him.

“I think that's a great idea baby” he said with a kiss to your forehead.

You still helped out, researching things when Sam needed the help, going through old books and files in the library, patching them up when they’d come back with cuts and bruises. You hadn't realized just how jittery you'd be however stuck in the bunker when he was out and especially when they went on far away hunts.

They'd go to the hospital when things were really bad, so you knew if the boys were on their way back then it couldn’t be too bad. The reminder did nothing to sooth your racing thoughts, your heart thumping so hard you could practically hear it pounding in your ears. You didn't know just how long you've been pacing back and forth, too afraid to look up at the clock and realize it's only been a few minutes since Sam called.

You don't hear the sound of baby pulling into the garage, your head is too clouded as you were damn near about to wear a grove down into the old floors. The sound of a door shutting loudly and two sets of heavy footsteps are heard down the hallway. Spinning so quickly on your feet you nearly lose your balance you turn to face the noise. Watching as the brothers emerge from the dark hall, Dean's arm rests on Sam's shoulder almost using him like a human crutch. You let out a small gasp making them stop and both of their eyes snap up to yours, weather you gasped in surprise at the state of your boyfriend or in relief you can’t tell.

“Hi sweetheart, We’re home” Dean tilts his head, his voice laced with his usual sarcasm and deep tone. He pushes off of Sam, clearly able to at least stand on his own, slowly making his way over to you a small limp in his step.

In the blink of an eye you’re rushing into his arms, your soft hands grabbing ahold of his beaten up face and crashing your lips against his. He grunts out a “fuck” in surprise or pain the word dying in his throat turning into a noise as his eyes fall shut and he grabs ahold of your hips. With a sharp tug he pulls your body as close as he can to his, his hands sliding up your sides. His bloodied lips against your plush ones, kissing you like a man starved, a kiss you’ve come accustomed to when he comes home from longer hunts. “Missed you” he hums in a hushed tone into the kiss for only you to hear, making your racing heart only speed up. His blood flows into your opened mouth as the kiss goes on, the metallic taste on your tongue foreign but you were far too relieved he was back in one piece to care about the blood coating your tongue.

Any pain Dean felt after the whole ordeal and from the bumpy ride back to the bunker seemed to fade from his body. He could care less about his brother's presence still in the room or the blood still dripping from his face and that covered his clothes or his split lip. It felt as if all the bruises that were forming on his body were already being kissed away as your soft lips slid against his. The taste of your mouth overcoming the taste of the blood in his, your scent calming his body, reminding him he's finally home again. Your body grounding him.

A rough deep cough stops the moment making the two of you reluctantly pull away, lips swollen and parted as you catch your breath.

“Before this gets any more R-rated maybe we should patch him up and you know clean him up” Sam suggested with a small light hearted chuckle as he walks off to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. You were grateful you remembered just yesterday that it had needed to be restocked. “Sorry Sammy” Dean calls after him, you turn your head away and follow up with a “Sorry not sorry” down the hall after him making a small smirk grow on your boyfriend's face.

Once he's out of eye sight, Dean grabs ahold of your face by lightly squeezing your cheeks and turns your head back to face him. Leaning down to begin softly kissing you again, groaning against your lips when the pain in his body begins to return.

“Who needs a first aid kit, all i need is my girl's kisses” He mumbled softly against your mouth, making you break out into a smile. A small tear slips down your cheek, your breath returning to your lungs and the chill in your spine fading as relief finally settled over your body knowing he's okay.

→ a/n: if you enjoyed please reblog or send me some dean requests id love to write more for him!

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

An extra stubborn reader who wants Bucky to actually get solid sleep in an actual bed so they refuse to sleep anywhere but the floor unless he’s in bed. Not the sofa, not a recliner, nothing. They’ll be in bed with him if he asks, but it’s the cold floor or nothing. No blanket. No pillow. Either he gets his butt in bed or they sleep alone, cold, and on the floor.

Let’s just say that James Buchanan Barnes sleeps well in bed that night.

🩵🩵

The Bed Or Nothing » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: You try to convince Bucky to sleep in the bed so he can get a good nights sleep.

Warnings: Fluff, implied Smut (18+), language, stubborn!reader, kissing, Bucky’s dog tags, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

“Can you not do this tonight, doll. I’m tired and I have to work tomorrow.” Bucky pleads tiredly.

You’re trying to convince Bucky to sleep in the bed with you so he can get a good nights sleep tonight.

“Do what?” You asked. “All I’m trying to do is get you to sleep in the bed with me tonight.” You say, trying to reason with your boyfriend.

“I’m perfectly fine with sleeping on the floor, doll.” He says.

“You’re not perfectly fine the next morning when you’re complaining about your back hurting.” You say.

“That was one time.” He says.

You just rolled your eyes at him.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.” He says, almost growling.

“I won’t have to roll my eyes if you just sleep in the bed.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m sleeping on the floor.” He says.

“The floor isn’t an option anymore.” You say.

“Then I’ll sleep on the couch.” He says.

“The couch isn’t an option either.” You say.

Bucky sighs and rubs his hands over his face, too tired to deal with your stubbornness tonight.

“You’re doing it again, babydoll.” Bucky says.

“Doing what again?” You asked.

“Being stubborn.” He says.

“I am not.” You say.

“Yes you are.” He says.

“I am not!” You say, stomping your foot like a child who doesn’t get their way.

“Now you’re being extra stubborn.” He says.

“I’m not being stubborn!” You said once more. “I’m simply trying to get you to sleep in the bed with me so you can get a good nights sleep tonight.” You say.

Bucky leans against the wall and sighs at your stubbornness.

“That’s all you have to do, baby.” You say.

“You know how I feel about sleeping in beds, babydoll.” Bucky says.

“I know, but I’ll be in bed with you.” You say, wrapping your arms around his bare waist.

You stood up on your tippy toes to kiss his lips.

“Please sleep in the bed with me tonight.” You pleaded softly against his lips.

Bucky put his forehead against yours, his tired eyes looking in yours. He already knows you won’t stop being stubborn till he agrees to sleep in the bed with you.

“Ok, fine.” He sighs, giving in. “I’ll sleep in the bed tonight.” He says.

“Yay!” You kissed him again. “Oh and one more thing… no blankets and no pillows on the bed tonight.” You say.

“Then you’re going to be cold tonight.” He says.

“I won’t be if you get your ass in bed tonight.” You bit your bottom lip. “I have another heat source in mind.” You say seductively.

“Oh yea?” He says.

“Mhmm.” You hummed.

You unwrapped your arms from his waist and walked over to the bed. You took the pillows and blankets off of the bed, putting them in a pile next to the dresser. A squeak left your lips when Bucky picked you up and dropped you on the bed. He hovered over you, his Army dog tags dangling above your face.

“Looks like I have to fuck the stubbornness out of you tonight.” Bucky says huskily.

Let’s just say, Bucky slept very well in bed tonight.

🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖

-Bucky’s Doll

[sarahsangelicdoll]

જ⁀➴ icky s1 Rafe finds your secret tumblr blog . . .

To say you were addicted to tumblr was an understatement, and Rafe had absolutely no idea why you were so addicted to the god forsaken app. After dinner it was as if the world outside no longer mattered nor existed. Laying on your or his bed and focusing intently on your phone screen, muttering ‘tumblr’ every time he asked, every night. It was bad enough that you hid your phone every time he tried to peak over your shoulder at what you were doing. Throughout the day you always stopped to check your tumblr. Falling behind Rafe as your steps trailed off and you checked tumblr. And shocked was an understatement to explain Rafes reaction when you sheepishly admitted you had more than twenty hours average total screen time on tumblr just by Friday.

And now, Rafe saw an opportunity. You showering in the washroom connected to Rafes room. Sabrina Carpenter blaring within his room so that you could hear it from the bathroom. Thank god his parents and Wheezie were gone to some event for Wheezies school. Sarah probably off with Topper somewhere.

Rafe leaned against his pillows, Xbox controller in his hand as he continuously eyed your phone, which was charging on his desk, left on and unlocked. He had an urge to go and look, but at the same time didn’t want to deal with your complaints later. And quite frankly, he didn’t want to get up.

But then, Rafe remembered. Remembered how you had somehow accumulated nearly thirty hours of tumblr screen time by the end of the week. And his urge to look overtook him as he huffed and threw his controller to the side. Rafe had to know what was oh so interesting on tumblr that you spent quite literally hours on it daily.

Rafe ran his hands through his greasy hair as he walked up to his desk. Ripping your charger out of your phone as he grabbed the flimsy piece of metal and made his way back to bed. Freezing once his butt touched the bed and his eyes widening as he read the first line he saw; “You gripped the sheets, pussy gripping around his cock like a vice as he spilled his cum into you, filling you to the brim.”

Rafe snorted as he leaned back against the pillows, his arm moving to rest behind his head, smirk forming on his face as he scrolled down and saw various posts, majority following the same theme: breeding. Rafe raised his brow and bit his lip as realization dawned on him; you had a fucking breeding kink you never told him about.

Adding onto his shock, Rafe nearly choked once he saw that your own blog had a whole bunch of porn reblogged or inappropriate writing, some of it your own writing. His eyes darted towards the bathroom as he heard the shower shut off, licking his lips as he looked back at your phone. Rafe could feel himself stirring in his pants as he grew increasingly excited. Now he understood why ‘Juno’ was your favourite song. The clues clicking in his head.

Your phone was quickly turned off and hid under the pillow as the bathroom door open, yourself walking out, towel wrapped around your body. “Hey.” You said simply, shooting Rafe a smile as you quickly grabbed a pair of panties, bra, shorts and sweatshirt from your bag.

“Hey,” Rafe mimicked, stretching as he got up from the bed, moving towards you. His eyes darting down to your ass as you dropped the towel from your figure and onto the floor. Untwisting your pair of baby blue underwear, however before you could put them on Rafes hands planted themselves onto the curves of your waist and moved down teasingly to your thighs. “No no don’t put those on yet,” Rafe teased, squeezing your thighs gently. You could feel his hard on pressing against your ass, only confined from his sweats.

“If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno”

Rafe smirked as he heard the lyrics, ‘perfect timing’ Rafe thought to himself as he leaned down to start littering your neck with kisses. “Let me ‘make you Juno’?”

⟡ ݁₊ . written by sarahsangelicdoll, 2024 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours.

⟡ ݁₊ . four posts in a single day? i’m on fire today | only proofread once | unintentionally inspired by @rafeyscurtainbangs day nine post for christmas 💞

[ivyasproperty]

Teach me, professor.

prof!agatha.h x fem!student!reader

summary — the infamous professor, agatha harkness, who is known for her cold demeanor, seems to have a soft spot for you, and decides to address the longing glances you cast her way.

warning(s) : smut, legal age gap ( agatha is 46, reader is 21 )

word count : 1.3k words

A/N : i took such a long ass break IM SO SORRY WHAFGAHAGAH, im still not good at writing so bare with me omg

You stirred awake as the sunlight shone on your face, groaning in annoyance, checking the time on your phone and once again getting blinded by the brightness, you sat up in a panic after realizing you were once again late to class. You were usually able to get up around 2 hours before any of the professors arrived, but lately, your dreams have been plagued by a certain history professor. You quickly cleared your mind of these thoughts, needing to get ready and NOT wanting another lecture from professor Jones, it seemed as if she was always targeting you about the littlest things.

After finally getting ready and rushing out of your dorm room, your burst through the door of the classroom, preparing yourself for yet another lecture, but was surprised to see professor Harkness, the exact professor you'd dream about during your not so innocent slumber. Professor Harkness turned around at the sound of the door slamming open, a smirk adorning her features after realizing you'd finally arrived. "Well if it isn't Miss Y/L/N, take a seat at the front, I'll be substituting professor Jones today, she seems to have gotten a cold," she pointed towards the seat right in front of her as she said those words that you didn't seem to process. Your mind was too focused on the fact that you'd have to endure about 3 hours of her just sitting there, and yes even though it didn't seem like that big of a deal, you could never seem to focus around the woman, her striking features and veiny hands were always distracting you, even in those spectacular horrid dreams of yours. Her clearing her throat broke you out of your stupor, rushing to the seat with flushed cheeks while looking at the ground. You didn't seem to notice the amused look on professor Harkness's face.

Professor Harkness had a big reputation around campus for having a very cold demeanor, you didn't understand why people would say that since she would always give you the softest gazes, and always congratulate you after getting an average score on her test ( they were always A's. But after getting so many of them, they seemed like an average grade to you. )

So there it was, the longest yet fastest 3 hours of your life. You spent most of the time sparing glances at professor Harkness, but whenever you would glance at her, she'd already be staring back at you, causing you to be even more flustered and move around in your seat. Her signature smirk sat on her face, staring at you with those piercing blue eyes, she opened here mouth to say something but it was then that the bell rang. Her face had clear irritation written across it. Just as you were about to leave, you felt a soft yet firm grip on your wrist, looking behind you, your eyes widened at seeing professor Harkness staring at you with a loving gaze, but it disappeared after realizing not all the students have left the classroom. After the last person shut the door, she dragged you by the wrist and sat you down on the chair opposite of the desk.

"So," her voice rang out into the empty classroom, "I couldn't help but notice your sweet staring, pet. Don't think you've been so sly now. So tell me, what goes through your mind, pet?" The nickname sent a wave of arousal through your body, it wasn't the first time she had used it on you, but it always felt like it was. You stuttered out a response so quickly it seemed pathetic. "I- uhm.... It's nothing professor, was just daydreaming is all." She looked at you with skeptical eyes, and kneeled down and inched closer to you, her face was now centimetres away from your own and your mind was screaming to just kiss her, and so you did.

You smashed your lips against hers, the gasp she let out was a sign that she didn't expect your sudden action, and before she could reciprocate the kiss you'd initiated, you pulled away in a panic. Eyes glossing over with tears, and before you knew it, your mouth was spewing out apologies, "P-professor! I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mea-" your words were swallowed by her lips as she kissed you with more passion than you've ever felt. You finally kissed her back after a few seconds of shock. You felt her smirk through the kiss and you whined as she pulled away, trying to chase after her rosy pink lips that looked delicious in your saliva ( idk why but that sounded kinda icky to me.. ). "You poor thing, don't worry pet, I'll take good care of you, just lay on the desk for me, yeah? Be my good girl." Your cheeks heated up at her words, nodding your head and getting on the desk.

Your eyes widened at the sight of her getting on her knees and gripping your thighs rather harshly, it was then you noticed the dark look in her eyes. You let out a loud gasp which was cut off by her hand covering your mouth. "Be quiet, pet. You don't want others hearing you, do you now?" You nodded your head, but the thought of someone walking in excited you a bit, but you'd never let her know, at least not now as she tore off your panties. Thank the heavens that you decided to wear a skirt today. Her nose bumped against the bundle of nerves and you moaned into a hand as she gave a hard suck to your clit. You bucked your hips against her face, and felt the vibrations of her chuckle against you. She ran two fingers across your folds, not surprised by how wet you were and plunged them inside. She let you get used to the feeling of her fingers before setting a steady rhythm. You were moaning loudly into her hand, the feeling of her mouth and fingers on you exciting you. She let go of your clit and stood up to give you a hard kiss, whining into her mouth at the lost suction, she put her thumb to good use and rubbed your clit.

"P-professor.... I'm gonna-gonna come...!-" "Come for me angel, be my good girl." Her permission was all you needed as your body tensed up, pure pleasure rippled through your body as your juices flowed onto her hands. Her pants were drenched in your juices and she couldn't help but laugh at the fact that you had squirted on her. "Oh honey, look at what you've done. Can't blame you though, you look absolutely divine." She kissed your face as she slowly pulled her fingers out of you, careful to not overstimulate you. She carefully dressed you back up, and pat you on the back, signaling it was time to leave. She accompanied you back to your dorm room and gave you a wink before leaving.

Shutting your dorm door, you slid down it and let out a sigh. Your cheeks were still red from the events. And as you were about to take off your clothes to take a shower and deal with the new pressure in your stomach, you felt something inside your skirt pocket. Taking it out, you noticed straight away it was your dearest professors handwriting, on it was a phone number and below was a message, "feel free to call me, bunny. and don't touch what's mine, i'll be sure to take care of it tomorrow in my office. agatha, X." Your heart fluttered at the thought, and you were giddy the entire night, your roommates were surprised at your happy attitude but were happy for you nonetheless. You closed your eyes that night with a thought in your mind, you imagined being in her arms, and before you knew it, you were sound asleep.

A/N : this is my first time writing smut so bare with me pls. i took a whole ass one month long break so my writing skills are still kinda crusty, but in the end i hope you all enjoyed this one ^^ feel free to leave a request!!

[lightseoul]

cw. gn!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining lmao (if you look extra closely)

masterlist | part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

“You’re late.”

At the sound of the pro-hero’s all-too-familiar gruff voice, you freeze, ass barely touching the chair you were about to sit on.

From where he sits across from you, Bakugou is now scowling.

Great, you think to yourself. Twenty seconds in and you’ve already triggered the beast.

“Sorry,” you say with the most apologetic smile you can muster. “Something urgent came up.”

At that, his scowl deepens, and his eyes seem to search for something as they flicker over your features. You feel yourself getting warm under the intensity of his gaze.

Three years of working under him and it still flusters you—being studied so blatantly by the #2 Pro-Hero, Bakugou Katsuki.

“What possibly could’ve been more urgent than an important meeting with your fucking boss?”

You internally scoff at his tactlessness, though you manage to seem unfazed on the outside. At the very least, the three years of being the HR head of the Ground Riot agency have taught you how to deal with a certain someone.

Bakugou’s eye twitches so minutely, probably out of annoyance brought by the feigned innocence written all over your face.

You could lie and let the conversation move forward. But you’re feeling a little reckless, still reeling from that damned phone call you had a few minutes ago.

So you tell him the truth.

“I just got dumped over the phone.”

You expected a disinterested harrumph in response, not a choking fit over the ice-cold water he just downed.

You jump on your feet, circling the table to—supposedly—gently pat his back. Before you do so, though, you hesitate, hand awkwardly frozen mid-air, wondering for a second if touching any part of your boss’s body could put you in HR danger.

Once you gathered practically everyone in the restaurant’s attention and Bakugou has stopped coughing, you hesitantly circle back and sit on your chair.

“Are you okay?” you ask, as he wipes his mouth angrily with his napkin.

“‘m fine,” he croaks, not meeting your gaze for a moment before finally looking you in the eye.

He looks like he has something to say, but his words never come. His mouth merely opens and closes ever so slightly, you could’ve missed it if you weren’t staring at it.

Why are you staring?

“Great,” you shoot him a smile, grabbing one of the menus and thumbing through the decidedly sticky pages.

A pause.

“...You could’ve canceled, you know.”

At the sound of his uncharacteristically quiet voice, you look up, surprised.

“What?”

He sighs, probably irritated by your confusion. “You could’ve canceled the meeting,” he explains, “I would’ve understood.”

You can’t help but smile at him, the feeling of gratitude blooming in your chest. At the sight of it, he looks away, solemn.

“A commitment is a commitment,” you reply. “We already blocked off the hour to meet with the restaurant owner, and I don’t want to waste your precious time off patrol.”

“...Even though you just got dumped?”

Your heart throbs painfully at the mention of what just happened to you, but you quickly school your expression into a neutral one.

“Especially because I just got dumped.”

He chuckles. “What, you the type to throw yourself into work when life gets extra shitty?”

You playfully roll your eyes at his jab. “Don’t act like you don’t do that yourself, Bakugou-san.”

“I wasn’t,” he defends, smirking as he leans back against his seat. “Was just curious.”

Before you can even register what he just said, a waiter suddenly appears to your right, startling the both of you.

Bakugou then proceeds to order for himself, and as he does so, you study his face despite yourself, heart weirdly thrumming at the implications of what was just said.

“Make sure to have the report ready by 5 PM tomorrow,” he says, breaking the silence as you walk towards where he parked his car. “‘m planning to stop by the office to read it before the night shift starts.”

“Got it.”

Before you know it, you’ve already arrived. Despite yourself, your heart sinks at the thought of going home. Whether it’s because you literally just got dumped unceremoniously or because the surprisingly pleasant meeting is coming to an end, you don’t know.

Bakugou turns to face you, a hand in his pocket and the other fiddling with his keys. “You sure you don’t need a ride?”

You nod. “The bus station is just a few blocks away.”

A silence falls upon you.

Again—there’s that serious look on his face as he studies you so intensely, it almost feels like scrutinizing. You’ve always felt vulnerable under Bakugou’s sharp gaze, but today it’s been extra piercing.

Finally accepting that it’s the end of the day and it’s time to go home, you nod again—more cheerfully this time—before you turn to leave.

You’re about a few feet away from him when he calls your name.

“For what it’s worth,” he semi-shouts, “it’s that dumbass’ loss.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @beabe19

[wannabeschyulersister]

under pressure

You were going to kill Richie. Strangle him until he was blue in the face. What sane person would send someone 47 texts while they were at work?

The door to the Bear was locked but you pounded on it until Fak answered it. “(Y/n)! What are you doing here?” He genuinely looked happy to see you.

“Hi Fak. Where the fuck is Richie?” You got straight to the point.

“He’s uh, in the back I think.” Fak knew better than to keep babbling on when you were upset.

You walked across the recently buffed floor to find the tall motherfucker that doesn’t know basic texting etiquette. Once you walked into the kitchen, it was pure chaos. There was shouting (mostly coming from Richie).

“Richie!” You yelled causing everyone to stop in their tracks.

Richie’s eyes widened a little, “Hey-“

You moved towards him and immediately shut him up, “You texted me 47 times! My phone literally froze from all of the texts! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“What’s wrong with me?! I was textin’ you because your boy is losing his fuckin’ mind!” Richie shouted back.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Richie grabbed a piece of paper off the counter, “Look at this shit! He’s changing the menu every fuckin’ day and also has this bullshit list of non-negotiables.”

You grabbed the paper from him (more like snatched it) and quickly glanced over it. It did in fact seem like Carmen was losing his mind.

“This doesn’t give you an excuse to text me like I owe you money or something!” You handed him the paper back (more like threw it) and made your way to the back in search of Carmen. He wasn’t in the office or near the lockers. You opened the back door and he was leaning against the wall.

He looked up when he heard the door opening and was surprised to see you. “Hey, I thought you were comin’ later tonight.”

“That was the plan but Richie is a dick.”

Carmen chuckled and reached out for you. You set your bag on a nearby box and let him pull you closer. He rested his head on your shoulder, “I think I’m fuckin’ this up.”

“And by “this” you mean the restaurant?”

He nodded a little against you, “Everything is fucked.”

“It did seem a little chaotic in there today. Richie said you want to change the menu every day?”

“It’s what the best restaurants do. It’s insane, I know but we have to try.”

“Doesn’t it seem a little insane to try that though?”

“It’ll be worth it. I don’t want to let anyone down. Everyone’s countin’ on me. I want to get Syd a star. I want to help Richie and Fak. Tina. And Marcus-“

You placed your hand on the back of his head soothingly. “I know, Carm.”

“I can’t disappoint everyone. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Carm, you make me proud each and every day. What you do in that kitchen is magical. Sure, sometimes a little dramatic,” that made him laugh, “but you’re amazing at what you do. This place, it’ll start off bumpy, it wouldn’t be easy. But once you all settle into your groove, people will be fighting to get into this place.”

Carmen tightened his grip on you and took a deep breath. He lifted his head and looked at you. You could see the anxiety practically written on his face. He was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. You wanted so badly to take the burden off of him.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He mumbled before kissing you softly.

“You’d have to deal with Richie’s crazy ass by yourself.”

Carmen laughed again and rested his forehead against yours, “What a nightmare.” You loved looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

“When Sugar is out on maternity leave, I want to step in to help.”

Carmen was a little surprised about what you said, “Really? But- but what about your job?”

“I’ve talked to my boss. I’m going to use some vacation time and then reduce my hours so that I can do both.”

“No, (Y/n). I can’t have you spreadin’ yourself so thin. I don’t want you stressed.”

“I’m going to be fine. I want to be here with you and to help the others.”

“(Y/n)-“

“Carmy, I’m not taking no for an answer. Don’t you want me around more? I’ll take some stress off of your plate. I’ll be here late nights with you with no one else around…” you trailed off hoping he’d catch the hint.

He smiled a little bit, “Late nights?”

You nodded, “Yes, late nights.”

“I like the idea of that.”

[fumiscripts]

✦ TIP: JUST DO IT

✦ one shot ,, nagi seishiro x gn!reader

content:: nagi has a crush on you— a barista. the problem? he doesn't know how to approach you besides ordering drinks.

for @neversam,, fluff,, 932 words

additional:: cafe worker reader, reo is a wingman, mutual crushing

Nagi doesn't know how to deal with this. It's such a hassle.

Such a bother that you were beginning to plague his mind.

Every time he passes by the coffee shop to get a drink after his classes end, he sees your face. Your face that he got used to seeing almost everyday. With how frequent he had come to visit there, he's gotten the chance to know your name, and you've started to get used to his, having written it whenever he orders his usual.

He thinks your smile is cute. As well as your voice, even more whenever you wish him a good day before he leaves the cafe. Seasons have passed, and you've become a little frequent in his life, like a daily log in he always claims from, one where he doesn't wanna miss a single day. He found himself visiting just to see your face, even when he didn't feel like buying a drink.

Just like always, he walks along this morning. The soft jingle of the bell decorating the cafe entrance notifies you, the new customer registered in your brain. Not looking up from the current drink you were making, you greeted them. “Welcome,” you say, loud enough for them to hear.

“Mhm,” Nagi replies, not bothering to greet you properly in return. You've gotten used to it. In truth, he was too busy staring at you to form a sensical reply. You looked pretty today— not like you never looked pretty.

You recognized that voice, as well as the iconic short, half-assed responses. You could tell it was your favorite regular. After handing the mug of coffee towards the previous customer, you switched your attention to him. “The usual?” you asked, already fetching a cup the same size he always drank in. A thing you've noticed about him is how he orders the same drink, not bothering to go through the hassle of trying anything different.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. You smiled at him and went to prepare his order.

His heart skipped a beat. Nagi's pretty sure that he has a crush on you.

What a bother.

“Going to the cafe, again?” his companion asked, the purple-haired boy looking over at him as he packed their things. Nagi looked up from the game on his phone, lazily nodding his head at Reo in reply. “You go there almost every day. Are the drinks that good?” he questioned, curious.

“I guess…” Nagi answered, not finding the energy to get into detail. There was a stretch of silence for a while, before he decided that maybe he should tell him more. Reo should be pretty experienced with these sorts of things, right? “Well, I visit daily… not just for the drinks they have,” he confessed, mouth forming an ‘x’ right after.

Reo blinked. He looked like he didn't expect that to be the reason he visits the coffee shop like it's part of his routine. “You… like a person that works there?” he concludes, assuming so, as that was what his confession was pointing to.

Nagi nodded, again. “Mhm,” he confirms. “They're… cute,” he trails off, before adding on. “I've had my eyes on them for a while now.”

“You know their name?” Reo asked— trying to scale how much you two know about each other— to which, Nagi gestured yes. “Maybe you should ask them out, then. You know, talk to them while making an order. Or slip them a tip with a note along with it.”

The white-haired boy thought about it, all while he mindlessly tapped on his phone screen. He watched nonchalantly as the victory message pops up, exhaling softly. “Hey, Reo,” Nagi called, looking up from the game. “Do you have any good first date ideas?”

He's surprising himself for actually bothering to make a move.

That afternoon, Nagi, once again, arrives at the cafe you work at. Upon entering, he was greeted by you, along with the iconic scent of coffee with hints of cream. He had a goal in mind. This visit, he will ask you out.

“Same drink?” you asked, smiling as he nodded a confirmation. “Your order will be ready in a few minutes,” you remark, making your way to start on the beverage. Nagi looks at you, watching with a fond attention behind his brown eyes. You look stunning, just like any other day.

Once you slide the cup towards him, he hands you the payment and a tip. You could see the faintest tinge of red while he did so, and you admit, it made you a feel a little interested on what made him blush. He left, and you picked the bill up. You noticed that a piece of paper came with it, a short and concise note scribbled with black ink. The ever curious person that you were, you read it.

You suddenly felt heat crawl up to your face when you did— alike to how he felt.

The content of the parchment was a time the following day, a phone number, and the name of a restaurant in the same city. Below it, there was a simple question: will you go on a date with me?

There was a noticeable tilt on your lips, a small feeling of warmth spreading across your chest at being asked out by the person you've been starting to like for a while. You couldn't help but read it again and again, somehow getting giddier everytime. How lucky were you that the feeling of interest was mutual?

You were happy to clear your plans for tomorrow.

(a/n):: Happy new years everyone

taglist:: @shrii-kk, @tired-xyra-urstruly, @fishii28, @yui2aku

@lakeside-paradise

© fumiscripts 2024. don't steal, repost, translate or modify my works without my permission.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Copy that

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember, week 3

Prompts: Lingerie & Sneaking Around

Words: 1,273

Rated: E

Tags: Office AU; Janitor Eddie; Junior Boss Steve; Secret Relationship; Semi-public sex; Steve in lingerie; Groping; Manhandling; Dirty talk; Dry humping; Inappropriate treatment of office equipment

Notes: Set in the same universe as this one

Eddie can tell what kind of day it'll be the second he walks into the office. Chrissy looks up from the files she's organizing on the reception desk and smiles ruefully.

“Hey, Eddie,” she calls. “Good thing you're here. The copy machine on the second floor is broken.”

“Jesus,” Eddie groans as he hands over her usual styrofoam cup of coffee. “It isn’t even nine yet and there’s another copier literally one floor above that. Did that not occur to those corporate dumbfucks?” 

She giggles and draws a breath to reply, but is interrupted by the phone on her desk ringing. 

“I bet that's Steve again,” she sighs.

Eddie’s stomach does a weird little flip. 

“Harrington Junior? I thought he was in New York this week.” 

She shrugs. “His conference got canceled. Listen, can you go check on this? I don't know why he needs those copies so urgently, but this is the fourth time he's called about it.”

As he steps into the elevator, Eddie wonders why he keeps putting up with this shit. He isn't being paid enough to deal with entitled tie-wearers who think the entire universe revolves around them. 

The second floor is still mostly empty, only a few miserable employees settling into their cubicles. At the sound of Eddie’s boots thudding closer, Steve steps out of the copying room, frowning and flushed pink with annoyance. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Eddie says. “I’m here now, aint’ I? No need to get your panties in a twist.” 

“Finally,” he snaps. “Do you have any idea for how long I’ve-”

Something twitches across Steve’s face, something that looks suspiciously like a smirk, but it’s gone as quick as it came as he grabs Eddie by the elbow to steer him into the copying room. 

While Steve clicks the door shut behind them, Eddie walks over to the copier. He peeps into the gap between the machine and the wall, sighs, and bends down to retrieve the pulled plug. 

“Seriously?” he asks. “Again? You need to start coming up with new excuses, because this is getting-” 

And that's as far as he gets before two large hands shove him against the machine and a warm, slick tongue pushes past his lips. Eddie hums a half-hearted protest and tries to pull out of the kiss, but Steve growls and grabs his face in both hands to hold him in place. The copier rattles as he wedges a leg between Eddie’s thighs. 

“Woah, princess,” Eddie gasps as those lips leave his mouth, blazing a hot trail down his jaw and throat. A look towards the door reveals three large cartons of paper stacked in front of it, but he doubts they'll withstand one or two hearty pushes. “Hold on. There's people out there, anyone could-”

“Better make it quick then,” Steve says, breath leaving warm puffs against the hollow of his throat. The seams of Eddie’s overalls groan dangerously as he yanks them off his shoulders. “If you'd have been here sooner, we wouldn't be in this situation. Now c’mon, or are you scared?” 

Eddie growls. Steve’s self-satisfied grin only serves to fuel his rage as he spins them both around and bends him over the copier. 

“I'll show you scared, you little brat,” he says, nudging Steve's legs apart and pinning his arms behind his back with one hand, the other opening his expensive leather belt with practiced motions. He bends and bites down at the base of that long neck, just long enough to feel Steve’s answering moan rattle in his own chest, then straightens back up and yanks Steve’s dress pants down in one violent motion. 

And then he freezes. 

Lace.

Steve Harrington's glorious ass is covered in shiny, delicate lace. It stretches over it in a pattern of pretty flowers and little hearts, golden skin and dark moles shining through the see-through fabric. 

It is red. 

Jesus Christ on a fucking motorbike. 

“What's the matter?” Steve asks. He's craning his neck to take in Eddie’s reaction, face unbearably smug and flushed as red as the lace of his panties. “You planning on doing something or are you just gonna stand there and catch flies?” 

“You might wanna get going soon,” Steve singsongs. “There’s people out there, y’know?” 

He rolls his hips, grinding his ass against the rapidly growing bulge in Eddie’s overalls. His pants slip further down as he does. There's garters. Red, lacy garters hugging thick, muscled thighs and Eddie is not going to survive, is he?

“Oh my God, you're such a slut,” Eddie mutters, and surges in. Steve moans again as he fists a hand into the hair at the base of his neck, pushing him face-first onto the copier. Eddie has a fleeting thought that it's simultaneously lucky and a pity that the thing isn't plugged in because man, those copies would be something to look at. 

“God, baby,” he growls, yanking Steve’s head up by the hair, forcing his back into an obscene arch. “You're gonna kill me one day, you know that?” 

“Hope not,” Steve gasps, fingers digging into the edge of the machine for dear life. Glass creaks and metal rattles as Eddie rocks his hips, grinding their bodies together. “I really like your cock.” 

Eddie laughs, the words igniting a firework of want low in his abdomen. Steve shivers under him as he blankets him with his weight, pressing him down against the hard surface of the machine so that he can whisper right into his ear. 

“Oh, yeah? That what you want, princess? Well, be my guest. I’m gonna stuff you so full, you’ll feel it all day. You gonna walk out of this room and back to your stupid meetings, and all you’ll be able to think of is how good it felt, getting fucked by me. How all you wanna do is go back and take my cock again, you greedy little-” 

“Steve? You in there? What is wrong with the door?” 

Steve is out from under him and on his way to the door before Eddie manages to fully process his shock. 

“Hold on a sec, Tommy! I think it’s stuck.” 

Steve smiles while he pulls up his pants and fixes his hair, like he has all the time in the world. Eddie is so busy bemoaning the loss of the panties and garters that it takes him a second to remember his own disheveled state. He has hardly shrugged back into his overall sleeves and pulled the zipper up when Steve shoves the boxes out of the way and Hagan from Sales stomps into the room, a stack of papers in hand and a scowl on his face. 

“Oh, sorry,” Steve says, full of genuine regret. “The copier’s broken. Eddie and I were just looking into it.” 

Steve shrugs exasperatedly. “I know, right? Looks like someone needs a refresher course on how to treat company property.” 

“Man, does anything in this company work?” Hagan grumbles, stalking past Eddie to flip open the lid of the machine. “Who the fuck did this? There’s cracks all over the place!”

Hagan groans, slamming the lid shut and turning back towards the door. “Whatever, I’m using the one upstairs. Oh, by the way, your dad wants you in his office. Something about New York?” 

“On it,” Steve calls after him. “Thanks for letting me know.” 

As he brushes past Eddie and out of the door, he shoots him a coy smile. “I guess we'll need to conclude this meeting later. Come to my office around lunch?” 

Eddie really, really isn't getting paid enough for this shit. Luckily, the job comes with other benefits. 

More smutty September

[seouljazzbar]

𓆙 watermelon sugar — lee jihoon ★ .ᐟ

summary - “blowjobs are called jobs for a reason but going down on your girl is called eating out because it's a privilege” or your boyfriend just wants to eat you out word count - 1.3k warning - pussy worship, bed humping, slight dirty talk, oral + fingering (both f. recieving), jihoon cums all over himself poor baby — MINORS DNI! 18+ author’s note: i haven’t written fic in a while so here’s to me getting back to it! this is a refresh of an old fic i wrote but with a little polishing! something short and sweet for my woozi girls warnings: just a thousand words on jihoon eating pussy word count: 1.2k

There was something so alluring about seeing you fresh out of the bathtub. Your hair pulled away from your face, skin glowing in its post-cleanse state, hints of mango and chamomile wafting off of your body as you lathered lotion all over yourself. You’d had a long day and decided to treat yourself to a soak in the bath, all of your favorite products used generously in the seething hot water as you played music from your speakers.

Jihoon watched from your bed, eyes shifting between his phone screen and the indent of your spine as you sat at your vanity. Watching the way the black slip adorned your figure as you slid it on carefully, adjusting the straps the way you needed them to be. He didn’t want to interrupt you, knowing how much you loved your ‘me time’, especially after a long day dealing with your asshole of a boss. You looked so peaceful as you moisturized your face, humming along to snoh aalegra instead of singing because you didn’t know all of the words.

“Did you want me to order something for dinner? I would’ve already but I wasn’t sure if you ate and I didn't wanna disrupt your bath.”

You smiled at him sweetly, swiping a layer of balm to your lips before joining him atop your duvet. “I could go for some food, yeah.” You turned on Netflix on the TV, shuffling through the popular section to find something new for the two of you to watch. His gazing in wonderment at you staggered your focus, causing you to look over at him quizzically. “Everything okay?”

“More than,” He scooted closer to you, wrapping an arm around your midsection as he kissed you delicately, not daring to deepen it like he was scared to break you. “You’re just so beautiful, it’s hard not to stare.”

Your relationship with Jihoon was still fairly new. Navigating intimacy still made you bashful, and his eyes focused on you in such close proximity still made you want to hide from him. Your heart fluttered as the feeling of his breath on your face hit, his smile obvious in your peripheral as you averted your eyes in sheepishness. That warm fuzzy feeling was back, your face all prickly as the scent of his cologne washed over you again.

You leaned closer to kiss him again, tasting your own strawberry balm on his lips before your tongue ventured into his mouth. You held back the moan that bubbled in your throat as his hands lowered to your ass, squeezing the flesh seamlessly before you pulled away. “I think dinner can wait a minute.”

He chuckled against your lips, rolling you over to lay on your back as he propped himself up on his forearms. “Who told you you could look this good?” His lips littered kisses across the expanse of your neck and collarbones, your giggles music to his ears as he migrated your warm skin. Your hands gripped at the waistband of his sweats, fully prepared to tug them down his legs until he stopped you. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“I-I just thought, you know, I could help you out.”

Jihoon shook his head, hiking your slip up to your waist to expose your thin cotton panties to him. “I’m not worried about that right now, I just wanna taste you.”

Your cheeks flooded with embarrassment as he licked his lips, moving so that he was laid comfortably in between your legs. You pushed your knees together to shield yourself from his line of vision, smoothing your slip back down your legs. “But I haven't shaved in a few days.”

“Baby, I'm a grown ass man. Now open up.” He discarded your panties, lugging you closer to his face as his hands enveloped your thighs. His tongue was hot as it pressed against your clit, slowly dragging up the nerve endings before swirling around it. You squirmed at the pleasure that rippled through you, hands clutching onto the duvet as his tongue dipped into your hole. He hummed against you, eyes rolling back at the taste he’d been craving since you invited him over. “So so good.”

The soles of your feet pressed against his back as he continued to explore your core, fingers trailing delicately along your hips as you refused to keep still. “Oh, my god, right there.”

“Feel good, baby?” He smirked more so to himself as he curled a finger into you, relishing in the hitch of your breath and the relocation of your hands to his hair as you pulled at it desperately.

You nodded, letting your eyes flutter shut as your head fell back against the pillows. You’d normally feel a bit embarrassed by the loud squelching noises your body was making as Jihoon’s fingers kneaded your g-spot, but it felt so good that you forced yourself to bask in it. “I’m almost there, Jihoon, fuck.”

“Let go, baby, give it to me.”

The tension in your stomach snapped as he added another finger, tongue still working your clit as your legs clamped around his head. His pace was unrelenting even when you tried to push him away, trying to rush out that you were done. “I-I came already, I’m too sensitive.”

He pulled away momentarily, wiping at his mouth as he looked up at you. “I'm not finished with you yet though.” Your taste stained his tongue in a way that he couldn’t get enough of, eager for more with each lick of your folds. He was absolutely addicted to you in a way you weren't used to and it surprised you every single time. “Taste yourself.”

Jihoon replaced his mouth with his fingers, digging his palm into your clit as his fingers pumped inside of you at just the right speed. He hovered over you as he kissed you, licking into your mouth so you could taste yourself in all your glory. You moaned quietly, followed by a whimper as he withdrew his hand from your heat. His fingers tapped at her mouth and you opened immediately, licking them clean of your own arousal without him having to tell you to.

He settled back between your legs and dove right back in without missing a beat, making your thighs shake around him in no time. He flattened his tongue between your folds as he shook his head, bringing that ball of tension back to your belly as his fingers slipped right back into you. You hadn’t even noticed that his hips were grinding into the mattress, humping in time with the rhythm of his fingers as he worked you through your second orgasm. “I don't think I can take a third.”

“Yes, you can, baby.”

His thumb rubbed circles around your clit as his tongue and fingers thrusted into you, stretching out your walls as your hips bucked uncontrollably. Profanities fell from your lips as you gripped his hair tighter, back arching at an alarming angle as you came all over his tongue for the third time. He moaned into you loudly, his grip on your legs deathly as his hips stalled their movements.

You struggled to come back down to earth, your breathing rough and ragged as Jihoon padded off to get you a towel doused in warm water. Your lips just barely muttered out a ‘thank you’ as he cleaned you up, grazing over the insides of your thighs that were sure to be sore in the morning. “It's your turn.”

Jihoon stuttered as he disappeared back into the bathroom, coming back with a towel wrapped around his hips instead of his sweats. “I, um. I’m good, actually.”

Your eyes went wide as you realized why he was good, his cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. “O-oh, you already… Got it.”

“Eating you out just really turns me on.”

[zushikiss]

jealous skater bf!scara w/ ballet s/o! reader

summary ; there's a fellow student in your ballet class who just can't seem to leave you alone, so your boyfriend (tries to) intimidate him.

warnings ; like one profanity (hell), none other than that

pairings : skater bf!scara x ballerina!reader (gender neutral)

notes ; IT'S FINALLY HERE !!! i'm sososososo sorry this took so long i've been so busy recently and tbh i haven't been able to even open my phone a lot of times 😭 soooo i hope this makes up for how late it is :,) also scara has a car here ermmm, green quotation marks for the guy!

written part below !

you see your boyfriend's familiar black car pull up near your ballet studio, as expected the guy still hasn't left you alone.

he's been bugging you for the past few weeks asking for your number and even for the both of you to go out to dinner sometimes, you've repeated to him that you had a boyfriend several times already but it seems as though he doesn't believe you.

and it's understandable, neither you or scaramouche we're completely showy, you never denied your relationship but you never made a big deal about it either, confirm it to those who asks but don't say anything to the ones that aren't curious.

simple as that.

so the fact that this heathen from your ballet class wasn't believing you wasn't exactly new to you, both you and scara has had your own experiences with people doubting your relationship.

exhibit a, childe who is your boyfriend's self proclaimed best friend, exhibit b, your literature teacher who was worried for you since scaramouche started waiting for you after their classes, you and scaramouche were nothing alike which is why people found it hard to believe.

and yet, here's your boyfriend. walking to your studio angrily while muttering things beneath his breath, what do you mean he doesn't believe you?? was he not picking you up enough? was the matching hoodies not a dead giveaway? was he not as boyfriend-y as he needed to be? whatever the hell that is??

so here he is, storming nearer and nearer with his matching black hoodie, the same one you wore when he dropped you off earlier that day, once he arrived he saw your ballet buddy close to you, not enough for it to be extremely alarming, but close enough to cause you discomfort.

"babe? hey, c'mon let's go."

you let out a nod, relieved more than anything since he was getting a little too close for your liking.

"little demanding there, don't you think?"

"no actually, i don't think it's demanding."

"y/n do you really wanna go with this ass? i mean look at how he's treating me! not that i believe he's your boyfriend.."

"i do wanna come with him, actually. and it doesn't matter to me if you believe that he's my boyfriend or not, cause i know he is and that's all that matters. also please stop asking me out, the answer will always stay the same, it'll always be no."

scaramouche smiled at the guy before dragging you away to his car, he starts taking a familliar route to the ice cream place you guys visit often, he breaks the comfortable silence by speaking.

"so, i think he was pretty intimidated."

"yeah, by me!"

[lndsismaeverything]

Lnds writing ideas

Because I'm too lazy to write and just want to blush, giggle and read 🫠

If u decided to write one of these ideas PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TAG ME 🥹 so I can read your lovely work

Or if someone already wrote something alike also please tag me ♪～(´ε｀　)

ʚ Xavier, zayne, rafayell , sylus ɞ

Showing of that they are married

lnds men getting hit on and they just flash the ring on is ring finger " sorry but I'm already taken" and pull you by the shoulder so they can see who his lover is 🤭

Being a girl dad

Lnds men having daughters and they just spoil them rotten " daddy can I have that please? " when ur about to say no because she has gotten way too many gifts from her daddy. But your husband already pulled his wallet and ready to pay " anything for my lil princess "

Who are u?

MC got hurt and in the hospital and decided to play a prank on them by saying " who are u?" Inspired by rafayell 🤭

I wish you where real

MC dreaming about lnds and crying while being comforted by them

MC : I love you...

Lnds men : but I'm not real....

MC : I wish you where real...

Lnds: I wish you where fictional

Reader wakes up next to heir was her phone still on and showing the lnds men sleeping and also waking up (´༎ຶ ͜ʖ ༎ຶ `)♡ (I really need this to be written )

First day of school

Lnds men dropping of their kid(s) of the first day of school ( kindergarten ) how well will the kids take it? Knowing rafayell and his kid both will cry 🤭

Kid(s) crying " is mommy okay? "

The kids crying bec they heard mommy screaming ( in pleasure ✧(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧) the dads go check on them while mommy put her clothes back on and go check on them. The moment you enter they hugged u and glare at daddy " is mommy okay? Did daddy hurt you? I going with you if u divorced daddy " lnds men taken a back

Double trouble

When lnds men have sons that looks exactly like them and also have their personalities

I see that sylus would have twins son and will make trouble around the house and the city of onychinus

Xavier and his son would make a Mother's Day breakfast you all know how that will go

Zayne and his son would sneak into the kitchen for a midnight snack, at first zayne caught his son but since this son has his intelligence he would " dad I won't tell mommy about u also sneaking for a midnight sweet snack if you don't tell her about me too" zayne would chuckle at his son smart ass " deal" but both got caught a few minutes later 🤭

Rafayell and his son would fight over your love. You can fight me but hear me out rafayell son would be a total mamas boy (ง ͠° ͟ʖ #)ง rafayell being rafayell " hey hands of my precious wife I got her first waited 800 years for not to get stollen by a child that only came after 4 years "

Lnds men with Baby fever

You already know (*´﹃｀*)

Drunken moment

Them helping you pick out a nail design

I'm here (sylus)

Lnds reaction breaking the bed

[soft4gguk]

to build a home | chapter fourteen

Pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

Genre: strangers to lovers. angst. fluff. smut.

Word count: 17.2k

Warnings: angst, jealousy, it gets so sad, they fight!, you have no idea who’s the CULPRIT lmao. mutual masturbation!!, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (don’t, babes), ass eating hehe!, a little spanking, a bit of backshots, it’s a bit rough but sweet, so much praise!!, multiple o’s!! tbh i think this is the best smut i’ve ever written lolsies.

Author’s note:  aaaaah! thank u so much for being so patient and waiting for this chapter as i recovered!! i loved this writing this chapter so much. it was fun, i found myself giggling in front of my computer screen like a crazy person multiple times lmao. also!! this was hot to write, i didn’t know i still had that in me! but yeah, it’s angsty, i’m so sorry in advance!! do let me know what you think. i love you guys so much!!!!! sending so much love and kissies. xoxo <333

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter Fourteen

You sleep soundly that night. 

You find it quite ironic, how your body finally rests when it’s aided by him. Last night’s actions, the way you let him wrap his strong arms around you, pulling you closer as your legs intertwined. For a second, you think being so impossibly close would make you cry, but your heart was hazy by then, foolish even, and all his touch did was swarm you with peace and deep slumber. 

Soori’s baby monitor wakes you up before the alarm can. She doesn’t cry or fuzz, all you hear is her little babbles – something she often does when she wakes up from a nap, playing with the plushies in her crib. 

“Soo’s awake,” you mumble, voice muffled by the pillow. Jungkook’s torso is flushed to your back and you dread his warmth leaving you. 

He hums, head coming up for a second to hear her. “It’s ‘kay, we’ll let her play.”

“What time are you going into the office,” you ask, eyes heavy with sleep still.

“Noon-ish,” it takes him a while to answer and you know he’s falling back asleep. You reach for your phone, checking the time. It’s 6.35 a.m. “30 more minutes?”

“Mm, yeah, baby,” he says, face nuzzling against your neck, his steady breathing sending goosebumps down your spine. “I’ll make us breakfast later.”

“Deal,” you say, pressing yourself against him further as you cozy up into the pillows. Your ass shimmies a bit as you get comfortable and your eyes snap open at the feel of Jungkook’s hard cock against it. He whines, hand tapping against your thigh to get you to stop moving. A little giggle leaves you. “Wow.”

“Wanna fuck you so bad,” he says, “but I can’t open my eyes.” You don’t mean to push your ass back into him, but his words get to you and so the action is merely subconscious. He hisses. “___.”

You smile, biting your lip. “I’m sorry. Sleep, sleep…”

And he does. No more than a minute later you’re feeling his body relax around you, arms growing heavy, multiplying that warmth, his soft snores on your neck working as a lullaby as you let yourself be thrown into a pleasant slumber. 

~

It’s short lived, though, your pleasant slumber. When you open your eyes again, you look at the time and realize you’d only slept for twenty minutes, as opposed to the thirty you’d both agreed on. You feel the rise and fall of Jungkook’s chest against your back, his arm had found a place in between yours and you were closer to him than you remember being when you fell asleep. It makes your chest feel tight and heavy. You stare at his hand, so close to yours, and thinking about him pulling you closer and snaking his body around yours like this makes you smile. Your fingers gently caress his hand before your own is closing around it, your thumb stroking his slowly. It’s a wild concept to you at times – a thought you like to ponder on – how you get to hold him. How you get to share a bed with him, kisses, touches. Sweet, little words that get thrown back and forth between you two in the heat of the moment – the softness of it, too. 

That’s how you’d realized you loved him. When his body on yours started feeling so overwhelmingly good and his warmth became your own and you couldn’t imagine how something so perfect could come to be. The word perfect dissipated from the notion of it all quite quickly, but you still believed the same. You loved him, and the feeling was tarnished – imperfect. But you couldn’t stop. You loved him and you wondered if you could keep loving him without him loving you back. Physically, speaking. You wondered if you could be this close to him knowing what you knew. Knowing what it felt like to love him. Knowing what it felt like to have him not love you back. 

Soori’s soft cries resound from the baby monitor and you gently pull Jungkook’s arm from over you, sneaking from under the covers to make your way to the nursery. You look at him, peaceful and so, so beautiful. You can’t fight with your heart anymore and you don’t quite knows what this means, but the realization is clear as day to you. 

You open the door to Soori’s nursery and find her standing up on her crib, chubby hands holding onto the bars. 

“Good morning, princess,” you grab her face and kiss her cheeks, “you’re gonna be walking in no time.” she giggles, giving tiny jumps as she bounces on the mattress. “Daddy’s sleeping but let’s get you out of your jammies.” 

You pick her up, placing her on your hip as you rummage through her drawers, finding a cozy yellow onesie to change her into and grabbing her diapers before you’re placing her on her changing table and getting her ready for the day. 

She babbles the process away, a mix of Nana’s and Dada’s as she plays with her favorite giraffe plushie. You sit her down on the floor and place a book for her to leaf through whilst you sit behind her and comb her hair. It’s getting longer and you take your time to brush through her locks, giggling when the feeling relaxes her and she draws her head back with her eyes closed. She’s such a character and you love it. You opt for two pigtails and tiny sunflower clips, turning her around and standing her up in front of you so you can examine your job. 

“Nana,” she says, taking one step towards you as she balances herself in your hands. 

“I hate to do this to you, but you can’t walk right now, your daddy would cry,” you say, holding her in your arms and standing up. You take her to the mirror and she claps and shrieks when she sees her reflection. You give little jumps and she laughs. “Soori,” you say, pointing at the mirror, “that’s you! Can you say Soori?”

“Nana,” she babbles, smiling and pointing at you. 

“Yeah, baby, that’s me.”

“Dada,” she pouts, looking around her nursery and opening her little hands as if to show confusion. 

“Wanna go get Dada?”

She smiles and puts her little hands over her eyes and you take that as a yes as you walk out of her nursery and make your way back to Jungkook’s room. When you guys’ walk inside, he’s still asleep, now on his back with his arm over his head. You’d forgotten to close the blinds last night and he was probably hiding from the sun. It makes you chuckle. 

“Dada!” Soori screams, outstretching her little arms towards him and making grabby hands. When Jungkook fails to respond she starts to cry her whiny crocodile tears. 

“Wake him up, baby,” you tell her, placing her on the bed next to him, watching as she crawls fast towards him. 

She touches his face and you see the way his lips form into a smile, eyes still closed as he fakes sleep. She’s in the middle of calling out for him once again when he opens his eyes, grabbing her and letting out an, “aaaaghh,” that both startles her and has her breaking into fits of giggles and shrieks. He has her over his body, making her jump in his hold before he’s bringing her back down again and kissing her soft cheeks. 

“Good morning, my little alarm clock,” he says and she laughs like she understands, “you slept good, didn’t you? You look so cute.”

You smile at the sight. Seeing them together is something you never get tired of and it makes you feel things you’d never felt before. In the list of reasons why you loved him, the fact he was an amazing dad stood at #1, always. 

“Good morning, you,” he tells you, reaching his hand towards you, kissing it when you take it. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You looked so peaceful. Plus, you needed rest.”

“Thank you, baby. Did you sleep well?”

You nod. “I did.”

“Come here,” he pulls you towards him and you land on the bed, Soori crawling towards you now and sitting on your tummy. You both laugh as she just stares at you. “She’s a little weird in a really cute way, isn’t she?”

You look at her, cocking your head to the side. She imitates your movements. “Yup. In the best way.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s perfect.” he says, reaching for her and shaking her in his hands, making her laugh before he’s placing her between the two of you. “Aren’t you perfect?” 

Soori just shrieks, enjoying the love and the cuddles she gets – rejoicing in them, even. At some point, she tires herself from so much laughter and she just stares at the ceiling. You and Jungkook laugh at this, looking at each other for what starts as a split second and then lingers. 

“I like mornings like these,” he says, finding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“Me too,” you say. 

“You hungry,” he asks, and you nod. He looks down at Soori, who’s still spaced out, squeezing her cheeks with his hand. “You hungry?” He asks her, making her nod. 

“Jungkook,” you laugh, pushing his hand away from her. 

“Her cheeks are like, made out of clay or something,” he says, bringing his hands back to her face and squeezing her chubby cheeks until she looks like a fish out of water.

“You’re one to talk,” you say, bringing your own hand to his face, squeezing his cheeks and shaking his head from side to side. 

“Fair enough,” he says, voice muffled as you squeeze further. Your hands are still squeezing as he pulls himself up, inching his face closer to yours and placing a small kiss on your lips. “I’ll go make breakfast. Wait here, okay?” 

You nod and he places a kiss on Soori’s forehead before he jumps out of bed and heads downstairs. 

“Hey,” you say, looking down at Soori, “you wanna watch Bluey on daddy’s huge TV?” She shrieks at the mention of her favorite TV show and you nod once, reaching for the remote.

The next thirty minutes are spent like this. Soori laying down against a mountain of pillows, a bottle in hand that Jungkook had brought her as you two waited for breakfast to be ready, and Bluey on the big TV. You card your fingers through her hair gently as she watches intently, mostly just letting yourself stare at her. She’s so perfect it leaves you in awe. 

When Jungkook walks inside of his room once again, he makes sure to let his gaze linger on the two of you. Neither of you have felt his presence in the room yet, gazes fully focused on the screen in front of you. He smiles, for certain convinced he could wake up to this every day. Soori sees him first and she waves her hand at him, making him laugh. You turn your head around, a soft smile on your face when you see the tray he holds – pancakes and fruit, orange juice and coffee for the two of you. 

“Kook,” your voice is soft, “this is so nice.”

“I am quite the chef,” he brags, placing the tray on the bed and placing a chaste kiss against your lips. “Plus, I’ve got to feed my girls.”

My girls.

It makes you both happy and sad. A part of you wants to believe it, but the other part begins to feel like you’re living a life that doesn’t quite belong to you. A life that you know for a fact he wanted to live with Ira. The notion sinks in like a ton of bricks falling from your heart, all the way to your stomach, and suddenly, you’re not hungry anymore. 

Your eyes zero in on Jungkook and Soori as he wraps her bib around her and places soft kisses on her cheek. She points at the strawberries and he feeds her one, saying something about his cutting skills not being as good as yours. But you can’t quite grasp his words, even if you laugh. It dawns on you, as you take them in, that you’re living under her shadow. You’re in a house that she once made hers, with the person she considered to be the love of her life, and what came out as a result: her daughter. You look around, wondering how much of her touch was perfectly placed all over this room. How much input she had in making this a home where they’d raise babies and maybe even grow old together. How much of these thoughts she had when it was all coming together. You look at Soori, wondering about all the dreams she had for her. You look at Jungkook, seeing just how much of her love she could’ve fit inside of him, and it makes you wonder how much of her is still in him. 

“Wanna try, baby?” His voice is muffled, faint and distant compared to how loud your thoughts are, but you nod, and he brings the fork to your mouth. You take a big bite, smiling at him and humming in satisfaction. “Good, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say, heart breaking as you see the smile that forms on his face. 

The morning goes by slowly, your realizations sinking in more and more with the passing of time, and this time the question is louder than ever,

What were you doing?

~

You pack the last of your necessities inside your duffel bag, double checking the inside to make sure you weren’t forgetting anything. It all seems to be there – a couple of dresses, two bathing suits, a pair of sneakers, more underwear than you’ll probably need and two separate bags full of your makeup and skincare. You throw your journal and pens inside of your bag and reach for your copy of Sense and Sensibility, throwing it in there, too. 

You head out into the living room, placing your bags on the sofa before you make your way to the kitchen, pondering on the very limited options you have for breakfast. You opt for an apple and a granola bar, making yourself a cup of coffee as you munch on those. 

You try to keep your thoughts at bay when it comes to the dreaded beach house trip. You don’t quite know what to expect but, then again, what was there to expect? You were there to do your job and take care of Soori. Jungkook never showed any sort of affection towards you when you guys’ were in big groups like these and you were mostly used to it by now. You try to quieten down the voice inside your head that tells you that the truth of the matter is that you want more. And then there’s also your newly discovered realization. You know, the living under Ira’s shadow. That one keeps you awake at night the most, if you’re being honest. And so you sigh, lowering your expectations and shifting your mentality, reminding yourself that you were there to do your job. 

Jungkook’s punctual, and so are you. You’re placing your freshly washed coffee mug into a cupboard when he calls you.

”Good morning,” he chimes.

”Good morning,” you say.

”You ready, baby?”

”Yeah, are you downstairs?”

”Yup.”

”I’ll be there in a second.”

”Can’t wait,” his voice sounds dreamy, and you roll your eyes. You hate being mean, you hate being so mad at him, but you also hate the fact that he’s acting like this is some sort of romantic getaway. 

You take a deep breath, not wanting to carry your anger downstairs with you. Grabbing your bags, you head outside your door, going down the stairs and past the entrance to your building. He leans against the door of his car, legs crossed as he scrolls through his phone. He’s got dark shades on and his hair is getting longer. You curse at yourself for swooning. Right as you’re about to say something, he looks up, eyes meeting yours and he smiles.

“Hi,” he walks over to you, arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer before he places a soft kiss on your lips. “Missed you.”

”I missed you, too,” you say, solely because it’s the truth. You had missed him, even though it’d only been one night.

”Let me get this for you,” he says, reaching for your bags and you let him, following his every move as he opens the boot of the car and places it inside gently. “Ready to go?”

”Ready as I’ll ever be,” you say, sighing. He thinks this is funny, chuckles a bit and everything, but inside, you’re already dreading what the long weekend will hold. 

Soori waves at you when you step inside the passenger seat, shrieking and babbling a sweet, “nananana.” You smile, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek. 

Jungkook gets behind the wheel, taking his time to find the right playlist before connecting his phone to the car. For Road Trips, the screen reads and you can't help but find it endearing.

“You’re such a dad,” you say, looking over at him.

“This is an exquisitely curated playlist.”

“Mhm,” you say, putting your seatbelt on and settling into the seat.

“You look pretty today,” he tells you, and when you turn to look at him, his eyes are scanning down your body. 

“Thank you,” you say, fixing the hem of your white sundress. 

“We should be there in,” he looks at his watch, “one hour and fifty two minutes. We’ll stop by the gas station halfway there, though.”

“I have a small bladder,” you say, genuine concern lacing your features.

He laughs, leaning over and kissing your cheek. “We’ll stop whenever you need to go, baby.” You don't know why, but the kiss makes you blush. You nod at him, and he gives you a sweet smile before he’s starting the engine and the three of you begin the journey. 

The ride is pleasant. The moment you step out of the city the road breaks into vastness – nothing but blue skies and lands of green at the sides of the road. Jungkook was right, his playlist is indeed exquisitely curated and you enjoy the soft music that plays from the stereo. Soori plays with her plushies and babbles some, but you’re not surprised because she’s often really good in the car, oftentimes making her sleepy. And you’d testify to that because before you know, you’re falling asleep, too, and when you wake up, Jungkook is parking the car at the gas station. 

“How long did I sleep for,” you ask, voice groggy as you rub the sleep off of your eyes.

“Thirty minutes or so,” he says, “good morning.”

“Sorry for being the worst co-pilot ever.”

“Nah, it’s okay, baby. Soori just went down, too,” he says, and you both turn around, laughing at the way her cheeks squeeze against the seatbelt of her seat. “I’m gonna go get some snacks, Joon’s in there, too, they’re just behind us. Want anything?”

“Oreos, please.”

He laughs. “Oreos it is.”

Jungkook squeezes your hand in his before exiting the car and making his way to the convenience store. A bell chimes when he steps inside, making Namjoon turn to the door, smiling when he sees him. 

“The girls said chocolate chip cookies,” Namjoon says, holding two different packs of cookies on each hand, “but there are so many options.”

Jungkook reaches for both packs, placing them back on the shelf before he’s grabbing another and handing it to him. “These are the good ones, everyone knows that.”

“Thanks, bro.” He pats the youngest’s back. “What a nice day. The road is smooth, too.”

“Yeah, we lucked out. It’s usually packed this time of year.”

“Classic,” Namjoon says, pointing at the pack of oreos in Jungkook’s hand.

“Oh, they’re for ___.”

“She’s coming?”

He doesn’t know why, but Namjoon’s question makes him nervous. “Yeah. She is Soori’s nanny.” Namjoon ponders on his answer but doesn’t say anything. “What?”

“Oh, nothing, I just didn’t think she’d come. You know, with all the extra hands we’ll have over the weekend.”

“Are you nanny shaming me,” Jungkook asks playfully, making Namjoon laugh. 

“Fuck, no. Never,” he says. “Soori seems to be very fond of her, no?”

Jungkook looks out the window of the convenience store, staring at his car, even though he can’t see you. “Yeah, she is. We both are.”

Namjoon’s head turns so fast it nearly gives him whiplash. “Oh?”

“What,” Jungkook says, walking down the drink aisles, eyeing his options. 

“You’re fond of ___,” the oldest states, matter of factly.

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be? She’s great with Soori.”

“Have you guys gotten close? I get the impression that you have some times.”

Jungkook doesn’t know how to reply to his question without giving himself completely away. Then again he considers what giving himself away would actually entail. Namjoon was one of his best friends, after all. 

“Yeah, a bit.” He feigns nonchalance, pretends to read the back label of a Fanta bottle. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” Namjoon says, making the youngest turn to face him. “You have a crush on your nanny!”

“I- it’s not like that,” he defends, stuttering on his words a little, making his friend laugh. “Can we not do this here?”

“Why? Is the horny police around?”

‘The ho- what are you twelve?”

Namjoon laughs. “Oh, please. Give me something. Anything! The group’s official bachelor is out of duty for what looks like, ever. You having the hots for your nanny would be legendary. It would restore the balance, you see?”

“First of all, do not compare me to that era of Jimin,” he says, pointing a finger at Namjoon, making him laugh harder. “Second of all, it’s not like that.”

“I mean, as your older, therefore wiser, friend I do have to tell you to keep it in your pants.”

“What is that supposed to mean,” Jungkook frowns, even though he knows exactly what he means. He’s stalling, if you will.

“It means look don’t touch, try don’t buy. Ya know. Don’t be stupid and fuck your nanny. You know how hard it is to find a nanny in this day and age? Mary Poppins is a myth, son.” He says. “Although, she’s kinda hot, isn’t she?”

“Huh,” Jungkook looks at him, confused. He hasn’t been able to thread his words since the beginning of this conversation. 

“Mary Poppins! She’s kinda hot,” he repeats. 

“What the fuck, bro,” he says, and Namjoon shrugs, heading to the self check out. 

Jungkook pays for his stuff, too. Promptly returning to the car, brain going round in circles at Namjoon’s words. 

~

Jungkook’s beach house was like something out of a TV show in which the main premise of the plot was to display the tribulations of having great wealth. 

You’re in awe the minute you step out of the car, speechless as Jungkook unbuckles Soori out of her car seat. The house is big, tall and white. The front garden alone was to die for, an array of palm trees making way to the entrance. You could hear the distant breaking of the waves in the ocean from where you stood. 

“How far are we from the beach,” you ask him, taking Soori in your arms so he can retrieve your bags from the boot.

“Not far at all, actually. We can access through the backyard. It’s maybe a five minute walk.”

“Woah,” you say, mouth slightly agape as you take it all in.

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice, isn’t it?”

“It’s amazing,” you say.

“Come on, I’ll give you a tour and we can get settled in.”

The home was a contrast of modern and classic, certain corners retaining the charm the years had given the property and some others bathed in the minimalist edge Jungkook seemed to be fond of. The spaces were big and spacious, the furniture beautiful and in neutral shades that really gave off that zen, vacation vibe. The kitchen was white with a big window that gave way to the garden, making you gasp at the sight of it. Green and vast, a huge pool in the middle and different living areas, but what raptured you the most was the ocean. Blue and serene at a nearby distance. 

The upstairs mainly consisted of bedrooms – plenty of them.

“Soori’s room is my favorite in the house, look,” Jungkook says, opening the door to her nursery, revealing the beautiful white interiors. 

“This is gorgeous, oh my God.”

“Thank you,” he says, placing Soori on the floor and letting her crawl around. “I hired the same interior designer for both houses. He did a wonderful job.”

“When did you get this house?”

“Um,” he says, hand ruffling his hair at the back, “it was my 21st birthday present.”

Your jaw drops, eyes widening, looking around you as if to ground yourself to the reality of his statement. “Woah?”

“Yeah, I know…,” he says, nervous. “I didn’t do much to it for a while, though. Me and the boys would drive here on the weekends and just sit by the pool and grill burgers. I didn’t know what to do with such a space. It was only two years ago that I decided to hire someone and now it looks more like a home.”

“It’s cozy,” you say, wrapping your arms around your body. 

“Yeah, we love it. It’s nice to be able to have people over. Jimin’s parents- their beach house is four houses down. And my parent’s is next to theirs.”

“Wow, you two really did grow up together, huh?”

‘Yup,” he says, walking over to you, pulling you closer by the hips.

“I got a vacuum for my 21st birthday,” you say, right as he’s about to kiss you. You feel the way he laughs against your lips. “Oh, and Lucy got me a gift card from our favorite burrito place. Free burritos for a whole month.”

He pulls away, looking at you before he says, “that’s pretty fucking cool, actually.”

“I know right?” He nods, laughing and kissing you again. “Where’s Namjoon?”

“He drives, like, super slow,” he says. “You know he only learned how to drive like, three years ago?”

You laugh. “Really?”

“Yeah, he used to drive his bike everywhere.”

“Sustainable,” you say.

“Yeah, this one time he got on it drunk and crashed against a tree, though. It was funny.”

“Oh my God, was he okay?”

“Minor concussion,” he says, laughing at your shocked expression. “Everyone should be here soon, though. We’ll go to the grocery store and get the weekend’s supplies.”

“Sounds good,” you say, still wrapped in his arms.

“And then tonight we’ll BBQ. I have a couple of friends coming over that are also here for the weekend. They’re nice, you’ll like them.”

You nod, smiling at him. He smiles back and you divert your gaze from his eyes to his lips. You see the way he smiles as he pulls you closer, softly putting his lips on yours. It’s a short-lived moment, though, as you begin to hear the arrival of his guests, bursting your little bubble of bliss and abruptly throwing you into uncertainty once again. 

~

It’d been a day of fun, mostly spent under the sun, inside the pool and then later in the afternoon, you all headed to the beach. The kids built sandcastles and swam in the ocean, the waves tame and serene, it was like straight out of a movie. The sun set and you got to see it merging with the blue of the water as it painted the sky in a million hues of pink, orange and yellow. It was so beautiful it took you a while to believe your eyes. 

It often surprised you, how this was your job, specially since everyone was so nice and friendly towards you, often engaging in conversation that slowly faded out of casual Soori talk into making an effort at getting to know you. The girls in particular seemed to be growing fond of you and Lucy. They rejoiced on the fact that Jimin had found someone to tame his wild spirit without failing to keep him, well, a little wild still. You loved seeing her adapt to the group so well, but most importantly you loved seeing the way Jimin loved her and was so proud to show her off. You overheard a conversation they’d had with Dae and Sun as they buried Jimin in the sand and Lucy gently brushed his hair away from his eyes. 

“Are you two in love,” asked Sun, looking at them dreamily. 

“Eughhh,” Dae had said, grimacing. 

“No, Dae,” Sun told him, gently as ever, “Love is nice. Love is a good thing.”

“Do you two kiss,” Dae asked, eyes a little shy as he focused on burying Jimin further.  

Lucy and Jimin turned to each other, almost scared of saying the wrong thing. 

“Often times, when two people are in love, they kiss, yes,” Lucy said, taking her time at choosing her words. 

“So you two are in love,” Sun looked at her, then at Jimin, as if waiting for her uncle’s confirmation. 

“Yes, Sunny. We are in love,” he said, making her smile, her cheeks tainting crimson. “That’s kinda cool, huh?”

“Why,” Dae asked.

“Why what, buddy?”

“Why are you in love, uncle Jimin?”

“Um,” Jimin looked at Lucy, who was starting to get shy herself. “Because Lucy’s the coolest girl in the world!”

“Do you get butterflies in your stomach?” Sun’s question makes both her and Dae giggle.

“All the time,” Lucy says, bringing her forehead to hers as they break into a fit of giggles.

You’d been giggling along with them from your place in one of the sunbeds, Soori napping deeply on your chest. You had a blanket over her and your hand on her head, caressing her silky hair, entranced by how peaceful and lovely the moment you’d witnessed was. Your eyes had veered over to where Jungkook, Taehyung and Namjoon played a rather competitive game of badminton. He was winning, of course. You could tell from the smile on his face – confident, a little cocky even. But he didn’t fail to look any less beautiful as the wind caught his hair and his laughter got caught in the sound of the waves, making it one eternal thing that you were convinced could hold its beauty forever. 

You wanted him to love you the way Jimin loved Lucy. It was such a silly thought, but nonetheless true. Today had proven it to you enough. You wanted him to be proud of you, to introduce you as his girlfriend, to weave you inside his circle because he couldn’t imagine it any other way. You wanted to be a sure thing for him, one that he felt the need to share. Perhaps not with the whole world, but with this world. His little bubble of comfort and love. His chosen family. You had no reason to feel left out, but in that moment you did. It was a feeling so visceral that it made his rejection sting more, like the burn of the absence of him was something so unbearable you doubted you could sit through another minute of it. You felt at a distance from him and it made your body ache and your eyes sting with the pain of your love. 

Now you stood in front of the mirror, the remnants of the summer sun slowly making themselves present on your body. The shower had been refreshing and in a way, you were hoping it’d wash the sour feeling of comparing yourself to your best friend away. It was hard to show yourself compassion because your thoughts were so unlike you. You try to conceal your sunburn, but opt not to after one failed attempt, keeping your makeup light and naturally golden. You brush through your wet hair, enjoying the feeling of the cold strands against your shoulders and back. In simple moments like these, you think summer is the only season that matters. 

There’s a knock at your door, startling you a bit. 

“Coming,” you say, as you reach for the white, fluffy robe you’d found in your bathroom. 

When you open the door, Jungkook’s face greets you with a smile. His hair is wet, too and his skin has the sun painted all over it. He looks radiant and beautiful. He looks like summer. 

“Hi,” he says, stepping inside when you open the door and closing after him. 

“Hey,” you say, “where’s Soo?”

“Watching basketball with uncle Yoongi.”

You laugh. “Fair enough.”

“I miss you.”

For a second he just stands there, looking at you, not doing much to close the distance between your bodies. 

“Jungkook,” his name on your lips feels final and you don’t know what to follow it with.

“Yes, baby,” his voice is soft, his eyes on you. 

The words you’ve kept from him for weeks travel from your head to your throat, sitting on your mouth for a beat too long, not getting close enough to your lips because they’re tangled in your tongue. Too many words, too little sense to make as your heart starts beating faster. 

“Today was fun,” is all you can muster.

“I’m glad you enjoyed,” he finally closes the space between you, coming closer. “I had a lot of fun, too.”

“You have,” your worlds falter as he takes the single step it takes him for your bodies to be touching. Your back hits the dresser. “Wonderful friends. You have wonderful friends.”

“Yeah,” he says as his hand travels up and his fingers card through your damp hair. “They’re pretty awesome, huh?”

“You’re so lucky,” you say, eyes closing as his hand caresses your cheek.

“I am,” he responds, and when you open your eyes he’s looking into them. It’s so easy to believe him. It’s so easy to believe what you guys have is more than what he’s willing to give. You wonder if perhaps you love him enough for the both of you. 

“W-we should head down soon.”

“In a bit. Tae’s starting the fire,” he says. “He lost the bet.”

You scoff and it makes him chuckle. “They’ll suspect, if neither of us are there, I mean.”

He shrugs. “Does it bother you?”

“No,” your words are firm even if your voice is soft. “But it bothers you.”

“I don’t know that it does, to be honest.”

“Oh?”

“Namjoon sort of caught me today,” he says, a playful smile on his face as his hands sit at your waist.

“What do you mean he caught you?”

“He thinks I have a crush on you,” he says. “Actually, I think his exacts words were you have the hots for your nanny. Which, both are kinda true.”

You laugh. “You’re so dumb.”

“Mhm, for you.” He kisses you. “Am I that obvious?”

“You’re not,” you say, and when you do it has a slight bite to it that Jungkook doesn’t miss. 

He changes the topic because he doesn’t know what to make of your subtle hostility. 

“You look so pretty with a tan.”

You turn around for a second, looking in the mirror behind you. “It’s more of a sunburn right now.”

“Still. It’s pretty.”

“Thank you,” you say, running your finger down his nose. “You too.”

He kisses you again, deeper this time, tongue finding yours quick enough yet moving in a slow pace. If you were ever to wonder why you can’t deny him, why you’d rather your mouth be on his than spitting a truth that could potentially compromise moments like these, this is why. His hands travel from your waist down your middle, working the strings of your robe undone as the cold air hits your bare skin, his touch scolding hot in contrast. Jungkook lets his hands roam over your body, rejoicing on the feel of your soft skin and the way you smell clean and floral, a hint of sweetness he’s learned to recognize in your presence. It prepares his senses for the best of it all as he pulls away from your lips softly, taking a step back to take you in as his eyes scan down your body. He stops for a second too long at your lips, red and plump from the sun and his kiss, down your collarbones and the faint tan lines that accentuate the golden of your skin. He wants to look, to take you in, but his hands fail him and they travel up, closing around your tits. You shiver when his thumbs lightly graze your nipples and his eyes are back on your lips, plump flesh caught between your teeth. 

“So beautiful,” his voice is a whisper that sounds like he’s mostly talking to himself. 

He lets his right hand fall from your breast, down your waist until it reaches your hip. His fingers feel feather light against your skin and as you lean backwards against the dresser, he can see the way your stomach caves in as your breath hitches in your throat, every touch but a build up of anticipation. He smiles, loves the way you react to him, even to the faintest of his touches. He follows the path the curves of your body dictate, squeezing at your hip before he’s letting his hand fall down the curve of your ass, eyes looking for the small ink he now knows where to find. He smiles when he sees the butterfly, biting his lip in what one could call disbelief. It is then that Jungkook wonders if you’re his. He can’t quite explain the thought that occurs him but it comes without fail as he takes in your body. A body he’d very much like for it to be his. He doesn’t like to feel possessive, believes he’s a little too old for that now and ultimately knows it serves him no purpose. But the question comes softly to him, the idea that someone else had you before him and the potential of someone having you after him. It leaves a sinking feeling in his chest that he doesn’t miss, not even as his cock throbs at what stands before him. 

“I want you,” he says, eyes finally landing on yours, voice a little desperate. 

You know better. Still, you say, “take me.

His smile holds lust, features soft but eyes dark and Jungkook’s so entrapped by the prospect of having you that he loses track of time completely. That’s why Taehyung’s voice coming from the hallway startles him. 

“Jeon!”

The two of you jump, both your hands coming to your robe to close it instinctively. 

“Shit,” Jungkook says, hand coming to his forehead to regain some composure. 

“We should’ve seen that one coming,” you say, a bit lighthearted at the sight of him. His cheeks are flushed, hair messy for no reason, fully flustered. Not to mention the hard on. 

“I had visions of other things coming,” he says, frowning. “Not Taehyung.”

You laugh, and just as if he’d invoked him, his voice resounds again. “Where the hell are you? I’m not grilling for fourteen people all by myself!”

“Go,” you whisper-yell. 

“He’s out there!”

“Just- make some excuse up, or something.”

“Okay, okay.”

Jungkook walks to the door, fixing the front of his shorts before opening it. To his fortune, Taehyung had been walking right in front of your bedroom, stopping in his tracks as he sees his disheveled looking friend. He peeks behind Jungkook, catching a glimpse of you and waving. 

“What a pleasant surprise, Jungkookie,” he says, what Jungkook would call his bastard smile plastered all over his face. 

“I had to fix ___’s leak. A leak- on the- a pipe.” 

You mentally face palm. Taehyung just breaks out in boisterous laughter. 

“Aren’t you the handyman,” he says, after he’s composed himself slightly. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Jungkook says in resignation. “Let’s go.”

“See you downstairs, ___!” He waves at you with a big smile on his face as Jungkook drags him by the collar of his shirt. You give him a small wave, cheeks fully red in embarrassment before Jungkook closes the door to your room. 

You look at yourself in the mirror, running the brush through your hair once again and applying lipstick, timing your breathing so as to come down from the little high your moment had left you with. You rummage through your bag, retrieving a short linen skirt that you pair with a strappy cotton top with a little pink bow at the center. Once you look presentable enough, you take a deep breath and open the door, sighing before you brace for the night. 

~

It wasn’t panning out to be half as bad as you’d expected. With the exception of Taehyung’s wink at the sight of you, followed by Jungkook’s palm hitting him straight on the head. Aside from that, the evening had taken a relaxed vibe to go with the cool summer breeze and the bright stars in the sky. You’d been in awe the minute you stepped foot outside, taking Soori into your arms as she’d thrown herself to you when she saw you, and gasping at the beauty of the sky. 

“That’s unreal,” you say, making Kenny laugh at how Soori imitates your movements, drawing her head back and opening her mouth in mock shock. 

“Ah, I know. We’re so used to the city, this almost feels fake,” she says. 

You reckoned she was right. You couldn't remember the last time the stars looked so bright in the sky before – or well, at least for you. You think about the fact that you’d left your small town, where the skies were clear and the stars would put on a show every night – it’s crazy to think you’d forgotten how that felt like. You blamed it on coming a long way, though. It made you hopeful, although nostalgic and a bit sad at the same time. Your heart was all over the place. 

“I’d also forgotten how the air feels at night next to the ocean.”

“I do not miss the clammy city heat,” Kenny says, laughing, bringing a glass of wine to her lips. 

“I don’t mind it, but I definitely prefer this,” you bounce Soori on your hip. 

Taehyung joins the two of you, putting a glass of wine on your hand and taking Soori from your arms. “Excuse me, ladies, I’m taking Soori to the grill. Gotta teach ‘em young!”

“Careful with the fire, Taehyung!” 

“Will do, auntie Ken!”

“Well, cheers,” she says, bringing her glass forward.

“I don’t know that I should,” you tell her.

“Come on, you’re in a room full of responsible adults. Plus, it’s her bed time soon.”

You bring your glass forward, clinking it to hers before you’re drawing the sweet liquid back. 

“Kenny,” a voice from behind her says, his hands closing around her shoulders, one of the few new faces you didn’t recognize this evening. She turns back, smiling at the sound of his voice. “You know, I think I saw you the other day… you didn’t say hi, though.”

“Impossible!” She exclaims, face in shock at the possibility. 

“Yeah,” he says, feigning a sullen face. “Dior, was it? Your face was way up there on a billboard.”

She rolls her eyes, a laugh escaping her lips. “I fall for that every time.”

“It’s a classic,” he says, eyes finding yours before smiling and growing a bit timid all of a sudden.

“Oh! Mingyu, this is ___,” she turns to you, “__, this is Mingyu. One of Kookie’s high school friends. They went to college together, too.”

Mingyu smiles, outstretching his hand that you take in greeting. “Have I seen you in a billboard before?”

You can feel the warmth traveling to your cheeks, gaze meeting the floor as you shake your head. “You have not.”

“I can totally see that, though,” Kenny says, “you have such a pretty face, ___. Like a doll.”

“Yeah,” he says, his hand squeezing yours softly before releasing it. “How come this is my first time seeing you, though?”

“Oh, I’m Soori’s nanny,” you say, meeting his eyes again. 

“No way,” he smiles, “what a cool job. She’s the best.”

“I know right?” She’s always such a good way to break the ice in these situations. 

“Yeah,” he turns to Kenny, “I can’t believe Mr Jagerbombs goes by Dad.”

Kenny laughs. “Aw, he’s so good, though. Like he was meant for it all along.”

Mingyu nods, mimicking Kenny’s coos. She shoves him playfully and he laughs before turning his attention back to you. “How long have you been working for Kook?”

“Three months,” you say, “and a bit.”

You can see it in his face, how he does the math. How he thinks of Ira. 

“I see,” he gives you a tight-lipped smile. 

Kenny asks him about his whereabouts for the past couple of months and he says he’d been busy with work. Lots of travel, very little time for himself. He was looking forward to taking it easier for the rest of the year as he’d just completed an important project. He too had rejoiced on the wonders of nepotism from what you’d gathered, often mentioning his father when talking about his job. In the short ten minutes since you’d met him you knew more about him than you’d expected at the beginning of the conversation. He liked to ski, had just purchased a property in the alps, he was a pescatarian and, as he so clearly stated whilst looking at you, was single. 

You try not to make much of the heavy flirting, often diverting your gaze elsewhere when your eyes land on his and he lingers. Kenny talks and you listen to her intently, trying to act cool when you feel his eyes on you again. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t miss the way he begins to close the proximity between the two of you. The way he looks at you when you speak, then at your lips, and back at your eyes before he’s laughing his charming smile that he knows a little too well. He doesn’t notice, but he’s frowning as he takes the scene before him in. 

Taehyung flips his steak, whistling in satisfaction at its perfection. He looks over at his friend, mostly to gloat, but sees he’s lost in beef that isn’t of his culinary talents.

“Chill, Matilda.” 

“Huh,” the youngest says, taken out of his trance.

“You have these crazy eyes going on,” he says, hand coming in front of his face to motion his point. 

“Hey,” Jungkook turns to Taehyung, completely dismissing what he’d just said, “wasn’t Mingyu dating Jennie?”

“Uh,” he ponders for a second. “Nope. Mai told me they broke up like three months ago. It was friendly, though.”

“Ah,” he says, eyes still on him and you. 

“You peanut butter and jelly?” Taehyung says this casually as if it wasn’t the most absurd thing Jungkook has ever heard. True, but absurd nonetheless. 

“No.”

“I’d be. He’s a charmer,” he says, directing Jungkook’s frown at him this time. He just shrugs. 

“Whatever,” he says, gaze back to focusing on his grilling. When Taehyung fails to hit him with a witty remark, he looks at him, confused for a second before he’s following his line of vision. Kenny had left and was now with Hobi, leaving you and Mingyu alone. 

“Peanut butter and jelly now?”

“I trust ___.”

Taehyung laughs. Jungkook frowns. 

“Last I knew you guys weren’t official or anything like that,” he states, matter of factly. 

“Do you need labels for loyalty?”

“Uh, yes, dumbass. That’s the whole point of exclusivity.”

“It’s complicated between us, you know that.”

“What’s so complicated about it?”

“Well, I can’t just-”

“Date the nanny?”

“It’s only been three months, Tae.”

“Ira upped and left, Kook. She vanished.”

“I know that.”

“Can I ask you a question,” he says, looking at him. Jungkook nods. “Do you have hopes? Of her coming back, I mean.”

“No.”

“Do you want her to come back,” Taehyung asks, voice soft, threading carefully. 

“No,” Jungkook says, a sigh leaving his lips. 

“Then three months might as well be three years,” he puts his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder when he says this. “Don’t put a pause in your life for her. Not when she went for a full stop.”

“Ouch,” is all he can reply, and it makes him feel foolish. 

“I know,” he gives his shoulder a little squeeze. “But I have to be the voice of reason because you seem to be reasoning all wrong. And I get why but, why hold back, Kook?”

“I don’t know, I-” he looks at you, your arms wrapped around your body as you listen to his friend intently. “It just feels like so much stands in the way sometimes.”

“Ah, well, it always does. There’s always gonna be something that stands in the way. Family, friends, work, money. I got a flat tire on the way to my wedding, for fuck’s sake!” Jungkook smiles, recalling the memory vividly. “But if you focus on that then… really good things might just pass you because you were so worried on how to get there.”

Jungkook is quiet as he takes Taehyung’s words in. 

“Some others,” he continues, “get snatched right from your hands.”

Jungkook and Taehyung see the way you shiver slightly, your hands rubbing at your arms in a futile attempt to warm them. Mingyu notices this, taking a step closer towards you and putting his own hand on your arm, caressing your skin as he, too, attempts to warm you up. They can’t quite make up what he says, but you nod and he smiles before you’re both making your way back inside the house, disappearing from their sight. 

“Shit,” is all Jungkook can muster.

~

He shifts his focus elsewhere. He fixates on the steaks and the vegetables on the grill. On Taehyung’s golf talk. On what wine to pair the food with. He checks his watch – it’s been ten minutes since his friend had taken you inside. His eyes scan the entirety of his backyard, nobody seems to be missing. It’s just the two of you in there. He asks Taehyung about their upcoming trip to Italy, gives him sightseeing recommendations and travel pointers. They spend what feels like forever to Jungkook going back and forth between trains and plane rides in Europe. Jungkook’s for trains, Taehyung’s for planes. He checks his watch again. Fifteen minutes. It surely should’ve been more. He feels insane, questioning his watch’s ability to tell time. 

“Get us a refill,” Taehyung half asks, half commands as he passes his empty glass to Jungkook. He gets bossy on the grill, plus he reckons his friend could use a bit of a walk. 

And so Jungkook makes his way to the table they’d set up with the wines and cheese boards. Eyes the bottles carefully to find the one they’d been drinking, takes a couple of cheese cubes to his mouth, munches on pistachios, praises Mai and Seulgi for their ability to make a killer charcuterie board. 

Yoongi’s hand on his upper back startles him. 

“Woah,” he says, frowning. “On edge much?”

Yoongi doesn’t know why, Jungkook knows this much. But he also knows he has a weird gift for perception. He can read a room, specially if inhabited by his near and dear. 

“This is good cheese,” Jungkook says in between bites, offering some to Yoongi. He stares at his palm, shaking his head before he’s taking the wine bottle and refilling his own glass. 

“This is good wine.”

“I do pride in my selection.”

“You have good taste,” Yoongi says, taking a sip. This makes Jungkook think about you, ironically. 

Jimin joins them, grabbing the cheese cubes on Jungkook’s open palm, making the youngest scowl at him.

“Tae says to go help him,” his voice is muffled by his munching.

Jungkook brings his hand to his jaw and closes Jimin’s mouth, making Yoongi chuckle. On his way to the grill he checks his watch again. Twenty three minutes. It’s been twenty three minutes and now he actually begins to wonder on what could possibly be taking so long. He tries to tell himself that he trusts you, despite Taehyung’s words that are slowly but surely sinking in. He trusts you. Does he trust Mingyu? Why should he? He’s a good friend, sure, but he doesn’t owe Jungkook loyalty on a matter he’s unaware of. The matter being you. And him. And your relationship, or lack there of. 

“There you are, buddy,” Taehyung brings him closer, hand panning over the steaks he’d transferred to a wooden platter. “Look at these babes.”

“Stop calling the meat babe.”

“Why? She likes it!”

“Stop calling her a she.”

“There will be no gender disparities on my grill, Jeon Jungkook. Plus, we have enough he’s,” he says, pointing at the eggplants that were in the slow process of grilling still. 

“I should get the salt,” Jungkook says. 

“There’s salt here,” Taehyung points at the small bowl he’d brought from the kitchen, to the brim with flaky salt. But it takes him but a second to realize what the salt means. “But we’ll probably need more, yes.”

“Be right back!” 

Jungkook walks. Well, no. Jungkook speed walks back inside the house, slowing down his pace the moment he’s back inside, putting nonchalance back in his strut. His stomach feels heavy all of a sudden, though.  Like he’d just finished a whole meal and dessert. Discomfort. A voice in his head tells him to fear something, anything. He fears about the possibility of walking in on you guys in the middle of something, anything. He walks through the living room, steps faltering a bit. How would he feel? How would he feel if he walked in on something he didn’t want to see? Like his friend with his arm around you, mid kiss. Or worse. The worse case scenario feels silly and a bit reckless. But then again, the question still stands. How would he feel? His first thought is angry. The second one doesn’t much come as a thought but as a pang right on his chest that nearly takes his breath away. He hears Mingyu’s voice coming from the kitchen, your soft laugh. His heartbeat grows frantic as he rounds the small hallway and heads in the direction of your voices. 

Relief washes over him as he sees that there’s no kissing involved, or physical contact for that matter. You two lean against the counter as you talk. More like, Mingyu talks, you mostly just listen. You hold a big cup with both hands that you’re about to bring to your lips before Jungkook walks inside the kitchen, making both you and Mingyu turn to face him. 

“Hey, man,” his friend says, a big smile on his face.

“Hey,” Jungkook tries to make his voice sound as lighthearted as possible, but he fears he fails to convey much of that. “Food’s almost ready.”

“Oh,” you say. It’s peppermint tea you drink. Jungkook notices the label. “Have we been gone for long? Is Soori-”

“No, no. She’s fine. She’s on uncle time,” he laughs, but it’s barely there. 

“We must’ve lost track of time,” Mingyu says this, mostly to you. “___ was feeling cold so we came in here to warm her up.”

It takes about two seconds for Jungkook to realize what he means. And no, it’s not the big cup of peppermint tea that serves as warm up. It’s the sweater that falls loosely over your body, a couple of sizes too big for you that’s most certainly not part of your collection. 

“Oh,” is all he says and you don’t miss the way his eyes fall from your face, down your body. 

“She didn’t bring warm clothes for the night. Rookie mistake,” Mingyu laughs, pointing at you. 

“Yeah,” you mutter. 

“I’m worried she’s gonna get cold during the night-”

Jungkook doesn’t let Mingyu finish his sentence, voice curt when he says, “there’s heating in her room.”

“What time is it,” you ask, to no one in particular. 

“8”15,” they both say at the time.

“I should probably get Soori ready for bed.”

“Yeah, sure. It was nice talking to you, ___.” Mingyu looks at you and Jungkook can see something only he can recognize. Not only because he’s known him for years, or because he’s seen it before, but also because he’s pretty sure he’s looked at you in that same way. Mingyu having the hots for you isn’t his main problem, no. Mingyu likes you. Like, genuinely likes you. His gaze is soft but determined, his eyes read an unspoken promise of the next time he gets to have you alone, like this.

You simply nod at him as you start to make your way out the kitchen, eyes meeting Jungkook’s for a brief second before you’re out of sight. 

“Hey, can you get Taehyung the salt? Gotta put Soori to bed,” he points at the cupboards, not waiting for him to reply before he, too, is turning around, making his way back outside. He hears the way he lets out a, “sure!”. Sees how he’s relaxed and oblivious as to what’d just happened from the corner of his eye. 

Jungkook catches up with you, startling you a bit when he grabs the back of your arm. 

“Hey,” he says, and when you look at him he’s at a loss for words. Doesn’t know what to say, where to go from here.

“Hi,” your voice is soft, distant.

“You met Mingyu.”

You don’t like the way his sentence is a statement, not a question. 

“Yeah, he’s nice. He told me you guys went to school together.”

“Yeah, we did. I’ve known him since high school.”

You nod. “That’s nice.”

“He liked you,” his tone has a bit of an edge to it. 

“We were just talking.”

“No, I know. He likes to take it slow.”

“What is that supposed to mean, Jungkook?”

“What? Should I not spoil his M.O. for you?” 

It’s immediate. Instant. The way regret sinks in the second the words leave his mouth. 

“Oh,” your voice breaks, breaking him in the process.

“___-”

“There you are!” Mai walks inside the living room with a teary eyed Soori in her arms. “She wants Daddy. I think she’s ready for bed, this one.”

“Hi, princess,” Jungkook says, bringing her to his arms. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. It’s been a long day, huh?”

Soori cuddles into him for about a second before her eyes are on you. And almost as if she knew just how much of an asshole her dad had just been, she throws herself in your arms, head leaning on your shoulder. Jungkook takes the blow. He reckons he probably deserves it. 

“I’ll take her to bed.”

“___,” he tries, again.

“You guys should start eating. It takes her a bit to fall asleep in new places.”

When you’re out of sight, Mai turns towards Jungkook. She crosses her arms in front of her chest, confronting him with her eyes.

“What did you do now?”

“I fucked up.”

~

You try the closet, the drawers and a basket full of plushies but you can’t find a book anywhere. Soori’s in her night gown, all ready for bed as her eyes grow heavy and you want to read her a book but it’s to no avail. Your search results are unsuccessful so you take her in your arms and sit on the rocking chair. You like the one at home better – it’s more comfortable, has more of a soft feel to it. This one is mostly for aesthetics, you suppose. You rock her in your arms, back and forth, deciding that you will be the one telling the story today. Your voice is soft, so as to not wind her up, gently stroking her hair as you begin to recount a ladybug’s story about her first day of school. Susy the ladybug is how you decide to name her. The ladybug goes through the trials and tribulations of something new, shedding some vulnerable tears before her fears are all gone and she’s learning and playing alongside her many animal friends. You don’t make it this far, though. Soori’s asleep before you can even send the little ladybug to school. Nonetheless, you stay like that. Rocking her in your arms as she sinks into deep, peaceful slumber. 

You stare out the window, unable to make out the ocean in the darkness but well aware it’s there. You think about its sheer size, the many undiscovered depths it holds. You think about Jungkook’s words and how you weren’t quite sure anything could make the pit in your stomach sink any lower. You think about how he’d rebutted that theory in a matter of seconds, with just a couple of words and one cold stare right into your eyes. You almost want to blame yourself. You even want to blame Mingyu. But this time you know it’s on him. Anything you could’ve done, or how he could’ve perceived it, his words had been ten times worst. 

This isn’t what love is supposed to feel like, your heart tells your head. Foolishly enough, as your head reminds it that yes, it isn’t, because Jungkook doesn’t love you and hey, at least that’s consistent. But even if that much is true, you still ponder on the statement. This isn’t what love is supposed to feel like. You remember telling yourself that in the past, the first time being after getting your heart broken for the first time when you were fifteen and thought that you’d marry a boy that lived right next door, only to have him shatter your dreams in a matter of seconds the moment he’d decided to take his love elsewhere. You stayed, you tried. Until you softly told yourself those words. This isn’t what love is supposed to feel like. Love isn’t tears that you shed alone, or words left unspoken. It isn’t spite, or greed, or vengeance. It isn’t jealousy. It isn’t pain that has nowhere to go. 

So what is love, your head stubbornly asks your heart, growing tired of trying to figure it out. But you’re left with little to nothing when it comes to an answer. At least nothing that isn’t memories of all the little moments that made up a huge sum that translated into realizing you loved Jungkook. You think of the first time he smiled at you, of his eyes on you whilst on the plane. You think of the morning after that, of nonchalant coffee talk and your very first banter. You think of your first embrace, of your first kiss, of the sun setting and his stupid speedboat and your hair flowing in the wind and of how nothing had ever compared to the giddy, lightweight feeling in your heart. Him. Love feels like him. Love is supposed to feel like him but he’d become a memory of anger and heaviness and uncertainty that you could not bare anymore. 

You look down at Soori and smile, only realizing you’re crying when a tear falls on top of her forehead. She doesn’t even flinch, but you hate that it happened. You hate that you’re crying with her in your arms, you hate that she’s inevitably in the middle of this, you hate that you two couldn’t be better for her. She didn’t deserve that, as much as you didn’t. Nobody did, you think. Jungkook didn’t deserve to go through what he went through with Ira. He didn’t deserve whatever was so vivid in his eyes when you’d first met him – that pain, that despair. He didn’t deserve it. It’s unfair for everyone and it’s probably what you hate the most about the situation. Not you and your feelings, or his spiteful words. No. Just the inability for things to… work. The bad cards dealt to you, the glitch on the fate you so badly prayed for. The events had turned and they didn’t favor any of you but all you could do in that moment was hope for the best. Even if the best sounded like the worse, most painful scenario. 

You kiss Soori’s forehead, letting your lips linger against her soft skin. You bring her small body closer to you and feel the warmth she radiates and you hope that she can feel all of the love you have for her. You hope it stays with her forever. 

Back in your room you don’t bother to turn on the lights. You head straight for the bathroom and get in the shower, letting the water run piping hot over your body, focusing your senses on the physical so you don’t have to think about the inevitability of it all. You brush your teeth, lather thick cream all over your face without much care and throw a big shirt on, putting socks on your feet and cursing the cold. You can’t sleep but you don’t do much other with your brain, letting yourself cry, and stop, and think, then cry again. Your tears run out sooner than expected but you almost wish they hadn’t. All you have left is emptiness, a hollow void that takes over you. 

You don’t hear Lucy come in, only realize she has when you feel the other side of the mattress sink beside you. You turn around, looking at her and you don’t have to say anything for her to know something’s wrong. 

“Oh, ___,” her voice is sweet, tender. You wonder how it got to this point. You wonder when it became almost telepathic, your way of communicating with each other.

“He doesn’t love me.” Your words are a whisper that you can’t quite bring to completion. 

She brings her hands to your face, wiping the tears away before they can make it past your cheek. It promptly moves to your hair, fingers carding through it and the feeling is comforting. 

“Why do you say that?” She hates that she has to ask. 

“Because I told him,” you begin, “I told him I loved him and he didn’t say it back. And all this time I’ve been… trying to come up with reasons but tonight he just- it’s not love. It isn’t love.”

She nods her head softly, shushing you as your words begin to grow frantic and more tears threaten to fall out. She’s silent for a while, caressing your hair as she tries to thread carefully when choosing her next words.

“Love is- it’s all a complicated thing. For a while, at least. But,” she pauses, takes a breath. “It shouldn’t feel like this. You’re too good for anything that doesn’t make you feel elated and comforted and, loved. You don’t deserve any of this, ___. And I might not know the full story, and you don’t have to tell me just yet, but these tears are proof enough for me.”

You stare into her eyes in the darkness of the room, take her words in and once she’s done, you simply pull her towards you and turn around, letting her arm fall on top of yours as she holds you and brings you closer. 

She doesn’t leave your side until you’ve been asleep for a couple of hours. 

~

You think you’re dreaming at first, abruptly waking up and reaching for Soori’s baby monitor that you’d placed on your night table after putting her to bed. You squint, adjusting your sight as you try to make up the images on the little camera that points at her crib. She was crying, tossing and turning on the mattress and reaching for her giraffe. You check the time. It was a couple of minutes past four a.m., way too early for her to be up. Shoving the duvet off your body, you step into the coolness of the room, then the coolness of the hallway as you make your way to her nursery. It’s dark and eerily quiet, the evening events having come to an end as the whole house slept. 

It’s not surprising that you jump the second you hear the creak of the door as Jungkook, too, makes his way out into the hallway. 

“You scared me,” you tell him, turning around and putting a hand to your chest as you try and steady your heartbeat. For a second, in your sleepy lack of consciousness, you forget. It’s blissful. 

“She’s up,” he states, half asleep himself, eyes swollen and barely open. 

“Yeah. I can go,” you say. He shakes his head, not fully grasping your words and simply walking next to you to her nursery. 

Her cries get louder when the two of you enter the room and she sees Jungkook. He walks over to her crib as you close the door behind you and takes her in his arms, swaying her from side to side as he shushes her cries softly. 

“It’s okay, baby, I’m here,” he coos, bringing his lips to her temple. “Did you have a nightmare?”

You walk closer to them and her eyes make you up in the darkness, her chubby hand reaching out for you. You take her hand in yours and she squeezes, playing with your fingers as her cries subside. 

“Shhh,” your voice is soft, caressing her silky hair with your free hand, encouraging her to go back to sleep. Her eyes grow heavy once again but she fights it. 

“Do you think she’s hungry,” he asks you. 

You shake your head. “I gave her a bottle before bed. I think she had a bad dream.”

She whines again, head coming up in a restless manner. 

“It’s alright, princess. Daddy’s here. We’re here,” he turns around some, so she can see you better and he begins to rock her in his arms. You place a hand on her back, softly running your thumb over it, your front flushed to Jungkook’s back as you sway from side to side, mimicking his movements. It works, and in a matter of minutes, she’s asleep. 

“I don’t want to put her down,” he says, looking at her. 

“I know, but she’ll wake up again if you don’t.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

You kiss her cheek ever so gently and he kisses the top of her head before laying her back down on her crib. She flinches a bit, eyes opening for a second that has you and Jungkook freezing like statues and staring intently at her before she closes them again and resumes her sleep. You both chuckle, looking at each other as if it was a reflex that proved complicity. Both your smiles fade rather quickly, though.

“___,” he says and you shake your head, bringing your finger to your lips and making him go quiet as you look down at Soori. He motions at the door with his head and you nod, following him outside. 

It’s cold in the hallway, your sock-clad feet against the wooden floors making you shift in place a bit. There’s something comforting about the quiet nature of the moment, though. Jungkook closes the door carefully, coming to stand in front of you. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Shit, I’m so sorry. It was an asshole move and I can’t even wrap my head around what I said.” 

You smile. Not because you forgive him, not because you understand. But because you find it ironic that he can’t wrap his head around the idea of you being his, even in the most childish of ways like a jealousy strike.

“It’s okay.” You don’t believe the words that pass your lips, but what is there to say? You look at him, at what you can make out of his face in the darkness and you can’t bare say anything else. His proximity, his eyes on yours, the way his hair falls on top of his forehead, messy from sleep. It all makes you… want him. It’s stupid, and you blame it on the odd time. On the silence. On the dark. On the fact that nobody’s looking right now, and that’s what your heart is accustomed to. That’s what your body understands as love. It’s what creates desire. You’re a creature of habit, after all. 

“It’s not, I-,” he begins but you take his hand in yours and he stops mid-sentence, looking at the gesture and then looking back at you. 

You can smell him and it makes you feel drunk. Soft and gentle, like his body wash. Clean linen sheets and something else you can’t find the words for other than him. It’s him. You think, for a second, that you should feel stupid, but in reality the touch alone makes you feel alive. 

If you’re to wake up and make sane decisions, let yourself have at least one night to take with you, forever. 

Your hand in his pulls him closer to you and it’s instinctive, the way he wraps his arms around you, holding you in place for a second, taking you in with his gaze before his lips are crashing against yours. There’s no starting rhythm to it, it’s familiar from the get go. Almost like he knows – like he could read your thoughts and was making it count. His hands travel down, sneaking inside the fabric of your t-shirt, squeezing your ass and pushing your hips to his in one swift movement. A moan passes your lips and he smiles, bringing his finger in between your mouths, the low shhh making his lips pout against yours, making you kiss him.

“Jungkook,” you say, mouth on his still. 

“Tell me, baby.”

“Fuck me.” Your voice stands in plea and your words go straight to Jungkook’s cock, well aware of you by now. 

“Fuck.” He sighs against your lips. “Yeah, baby, I’ll fuck you.”

You nod, bringing your lips to him, tongue dancing with his as you move slow, fingers carding through his hair. 

“Please.”

He hums against your mouth, bringing his hands back to your ass as he pulls you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist. He crosses the hallway, hands finding the door knob intuitively as he focuses on the way your lips come down to his neck, his eyes closing in pleasure the second you begin to place open mouth kisses on the flesh. He manages, though. Stepping inside his room with your body snaked around his, walking towards his bed and letting out little grunts of pleasure when your lips begin to suck on his skin, mouth coming to his ear to let him know how much you want him. How you want him to have you. Telling him the things you want him to do to you, no inhibitions holding you back. His knee touches the mattress as he lays you against it carefully, admiring the way you seamlessly fall into his bed, arms outstretching over the soft covers, hips sinking into them as you roll them in a way that hypnotizes him. Your hair flairs out around you and you look heavenly in the dim light.

“Don’t just stare,” you say, wrapping your legs around his waist enticingly. 

“Watch me,” he says before leaning down and kissing you again. 

You shake your head, a giggle passing your lips. “I want to.”

“Want what, baby?” Jungkook’s too distracted with his kiss, and with the way your hips roll into his, making him fall into you. 

“To watch you.” 

Your words are filthy and your panties are so fucking thin it makes Jungkook moan as he feels the way his dick falls perfectly between your folds. “Just watch?”

“Mhm. For a little bit. Please?”

“Yeah, okay,” he breathes out, deepening the kiss and rolling his hips into yours. 

You take advantage of the way his body betrays his thinking and put your hands on his shoulders before you’re pushing him down on his back, your knees sinking on the mattress as you bring your body up, looking down at him.

“Lay down on the pillows.” Your voice is demanding and he can’t say he minds.

“‘Kay, boss.” His words make you giggle a bit and you watch the way he scoots over, following your instructions, getting comfortable as he leans his head on his hands. He pouts before he says, “why are you so far away?”

“Because I get to watch.”

“Yeah? What do you want me to do? Tell me.”

You rest your body against the soles of your feet, running your hands through your hair, getting comfortable yourself. 

“I want you to touch yourself.” There’s no shyness in your voice, but it remains soft, drives him a bit mad – your duality. 

“I can do that, baby. Will you give me a show, too?”

“Not right away. I want to watch you first.”

He looks into your eyes for a moment before he sends a smirk your way, sinking back into the pillows before his hand begins to make its descend. 

“No.” He looks confused for a second at your words. “I want you to do it slowly. I want you to do it like you would if I wasn’t watching.”

“Okay,” is all he can respond with, because the little dynamic is already sending all his blood supply down to his cock, throbbing at your demands. 

He closes his eyes, left hand coming behind his head, his fingers playing with his hair for a second. When he opens them again, he looks down at his bare torso, sighs as he palms his cock over his pyjama pants, feels the warmth it radiates, perceives the small signs of his arousal. He squeezes, feels the way he throbs as his hand applies more pressure, a low hiss leaving his lips that has you feeling delirious. He looks up at you then and you get so caught up in his eyes you almost miss the way his hand snakes inside, past his boxers, his eyes closing when he finally gets to wrap a hand around himself. His head falls back, eyes fluttering closed as he circles a thumb around his head, collecting the pre cum and spreading it down his shaft as he begins to jerk himself. You want to see him, you want to see it all, but you stop yourself from asking, from demanding it, when you realize you quite enjoy the sight before you. It feels primal, almost taboo – like you shouldn’t be watching. It makes your pussy throb. 

“Fuck,” he sighs at how good he feels and how badly he needs to discard of his layers, giving himself one last tug before his hips are coming up and he’s getting rid of his pants, boxers following suit, falling into a small pile on the floor.

He sees the way your eyes fall on his naked form, slowly taking him in before they land on his cock, on the way he grasps a hand around it once more, firm at the base like he’s showing you. 

“I love your cock.” 

Your words make him let out a breathy chuckle. “I love your pussy. Wanna show me?”

You lean backwards, resting your weight on your hand, feet touching the mattress as you spread your legs for him. Your fingers bring your shirt up past your tummy, pink panties on full display. He pouts, not fully displeased, but not fully satisfied either. 

“Let me see you, baby.”

“Keep going.” Is all you say. 

He reckons his best bet is to shut up and do what you say, and so he does just that. Applying more pressure as he closes his hand around his cock once again, enjoying the slight friction for a moment before it grows into discomfort. His hand comes up to his mouth and he spits on it, making your breath hitch on your throat at the lewd act, eyes threatening to close in sheer pleasure. You’re reactive when it comes to him. With the added lubrication, he begins to pick his pace back up, jerking his hand up and down, a low moan leaving him when his thumb toys with his slit, forefinger joining as he squeezes the head. His eyes never leave you, going back and forth from your face, to your body, unable to decide which one brings him the most pleasure right now. He grunts when your hand sneaks inside your shirt, when he sees the way you palm at your tits, the act visible through your white shirt. He sees the way you pinch your nipples, making your hips roll involuntarily. 

“Yeah, baby, fuck. Touch yourself for me.”

His pants grow heavier, hand begins to slow down before he squeezes at the base, halting the beginning of his orgasm. 

“How do you feel?”

“Good,” he says. “Too good.” 

“Mm,” you hum, moaning when your thumb grazes your sensitive nipples. 

“Wanna touch you so bad, baby.” 

“Not yet, Kook.”

Before he can protest you straighten your back, removing your shirt in one swift movement, making him moan at the sight of your tits alone. 

“Prettiest tits.” His voice is cocky, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. 

You smile, leaning back slightly, eyes back on his cock that leaks and throbs for you. You want to put it in your mouth so badly, you want to ride him, touch him. But not yet. 

“What would you do now? Make yourself cum?”

He shakes his head, smiling. You follow the path his hands take, the free one toying with his nipple, making him hiss and let out a low grunt, tummy caving at the overstimulation. The hand that wraps around his cock pumps once, twice, before traveling down until he’s tugging at his balls. You watch the way he rolls them in his palm, making his cock jump against his stomach. 

“Shit,” he breathes out, closing his eyes. 

“Look at me, Jungkook.”

“I am.” He complies, a bit drunk on the pleasure he grants himself. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you tell him. “I’m so wet, Kookie.”

It’s mostly endearing, whenever you use that nickname on him. But in particular moments, it’s a sign that you’re in it to play. 

“Did I? Let me see.” He nods your way, encouraging you. 

Your hand falls between your legs, fingers pulling at the side of your panties as you move the thin fabric to the side. Jungkook cocks his head to the side slightly, smiling when he can see how you glisten from where he stands. 

“Take them off.”

“Who says you’re in charge now?”

“I never stopped being in charge, baby.”

“Doubtful,” you bite back, spreading your pussy lips with your index and middle finger, relishing in the way your actions throw him off a bit. 

“I like to give you what you want. That’s all, baby.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, fingers drawing lazy circles over your clit. “You do.”

“Take them off, ___.”

Your mind doesn’t let you fight back. It’s the need that runs through your body the more you touch yourself, the way he did so good, looked so good. But most of all, it’s the way that it’s true. That he is in charge and he never stopped. And that you loved every second of it. So you give him what he wants now, raising your hips as you roll your panties off your legs, tossing them to the floor before your hands are finding your heat again. 

“That’s it, baby. Make yourself feel good for me, yeah?” His hands resume their own pace, jerking his dick, his movements a bit lethargic, almost as if he was mimicking your speed. 

“Nngh.” The little noises you make are dreamy, makes his eyes fall shut for a second so he can compose himself. 

“Is this how you do it? When you’re all alone?”

“Yeah,” your words are a little strained, face contorted in pleasure.

“Mm,” he nods, feigning more control than he actually has right now. “And where does your mind go?”

“You.” Your words don’t falter, eyes landing straight on his. 

“What about me?”

“Sucking you. Riding you,” your last words get caught up in a moan as you push your middle finger inside your entrance. 

Jungkook hums, eyes fixated on your pussy. “What else?” His own voice fails him as his pleasure grows. 

“Your mouth on me. On my pussy- everywhere. I think about you fucking me. Hard.”

“Come here, ___.” His words are firm, unable to take the distance your little kinky dynamic had put between the two of you, and you seem to be feeling the same because you don’t hesitate much as you crawl towards him with hazy eyes and weak limbs. He looks down, giving you a silent instruction you are more than willing to take as you lay down on your tummy, between his legs, looking up at him. He smiles, hand around his cock as he says, “open.”

And you do, moaning at the way his cock feels heavy on your tongue, tasting the precum and rejoicing in the way he sighs in relief the moment your mouth is on him. You roll his balls on your palm, not wasting any time as you sink down on him, head hitting the back of your throat, making him hiss and moan, a little louder than usual. It feels good to make him feel good – to make him get lost in his pleasure, to allow yourself to get lost in it, too. 

“Oh my god,” his voice is a little whiny, his eyes closing in pleasure as his hand comes to your head and you nod, giving him the cue. He pushes down, eyes back on you, guiding your movements as you move on him skillfully, coming up just to sink back in, letting him press you against him until you’re gagging around his cock, making him groan in primal satisfaction. “Just like that, baby, you’re doing so- fuck, so good.” 

He brings your head back up after using your mouth, smiling when you catch your breath, fucked out eyes looking straight into his as you smile, too. You place open mouth kisses against his tip, sucking on his frenulum as you travel down, letting your spit coat his cock before you’re sucking his balls into your mouth, one by one. Jungkook moans at the feeling, at the sight, before he can’t take it anymore and his head is drawing back against the pillows, tummy hiccuping at the threat of release. 

“Stop.” His hands cup your jaw, halting your movements. “Don’t wanna cum yet.” 

“Okay.” Your voice is sweet, smiling at him as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, fingers lingering on your lips for a while as you come up, leaning over to crash your lips onto his. You kiss him, deep and full of passion, your tongue playing with his, teeth sinking on his bottom lip once, twice, and he gets so lost in the way you kiss him he succeeds at ignoring everything else. It’s not for long, though, moaning into your mouth as his dick jumps against his pelvis, bringing a hand down to allow it some much needed friction. 

“Ride my cock, baby.” 

“Yeah, I want that. Want that so bad.” 

“Take it, then,” he says, kissing you one last time before he’s settling back down against the pillows, getting comfortable as he watches you get settled, straddling him, hands falling to his chest, pressing your tits together right on his face, a lazy smirk adorning his lips at the sight. You roll your eyes when you notice, but it’s lighthearted because you both know that there’s nothing you love more than getting those little reactions out of him. You sink down on him slowly, watching the smile fade into an almost pained expression as his face contorts in pleasure, the two of you sighing at the feeling of his cock filling you up. 

You sit on him, head rolling back as you let the discomfort turn into pleasure. He holds your hips, fingers touching the soft skin gently, a little moan leaving his lips when you clench on him. Your hand comes down to your lower tummy as you press, legs reflexively trying to close around his waist, making him hiss as you both feel the pressure you apply to his cock. 

“Oh, fuck,” he pants, squeezing at your hips. “That was so hot.”

“I feel like I’m gonna pee myself,” you say, making the both of you laugh. 

“I think that’s another thing, baby.” 

“It’s too much.” Your voice shakes. 

“That’s okay. Just ride me.” His voice is soft, fingers tucking your hair behind your ears as you nod. 

You set the pace together, fucking him slowly as he moves your hips, helping you move on him, letting you feel him fully as you sink yourself onto him before coming back up, not entirely, never not having him inside of you. Your eyes lock on his, taking in his features, how beautiful he looks when a particular roll of your lips has him moaning, eyes fighting to stay open. You take in the sounds he makes, the way they get lost in your own, the way his lip gets caught between his teeth right before he utters dirty little words your way, words of praise that let you know how good you make him feel, encouraging you as he tells you that you’re doing so, so well. You cry out in pleasure when he tells you your pussy was made for him, hands coming to rest at his thighs as you fuck yourself on him, the tip of his cock massaging that sweet spot inside of you with every push and pull. 

“I’m so close,” you mewl, nails digging into his thighs. 

“Come back to me,” he pleads, hands on your tits, thumbs caressing your nipples before he’s pulling you back down by the waist. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Your words are airy, filled with lust as you begin to move faster on top of him. Jungkook removes his hands from your waist, letting you do as you please – letting you use him – and brings them to your face, making you look at him. He sees the way your mouth parts in a silent moan when you cum around his cock, moaning at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head as your pussy contracts around him. 

“Good girl. You did so good, baby,” he mutters soft praises against your lips soothingly, aiding your come down. 

“Yeah?” You ask, feeling a little delirious. 

“Yeah. Fuck, your pussy feels so good.”

“Make me cum again, Kookie. Fuck me hard this time.”

And that’s seemingly all you have to say for Jungkook to take back the reigns he carries so very well. He plants one last kiss on your lips before he’s holding you by the waist, pushing you off gently, letting himself get distracted by the mess you’ve left all over him. You bite your lip as you take it in, too, the sight before you definitely matching how wet you are between your legs. It makes you giggle a bit, a little fucked silly as your limbs feel weak and your body feels so, so good at the same time. You don’t linger in your little bliss for long, though. Jungkook grabs you by the hips, pulling you back up and positioning you in your hands and knees. Your legs give out a bit, feeling a little shaky but you relax once he stands behind you, finding a spot between your legs and running his hand down your spine. His touch is soft, the sheer act sending jolts of electricity down your body as he presses down some, making you arch your back for him, throwing your ass back at him slightly. 

“So sexy,” he praises, palms coming to your ass before he squeezes at the soft flesh. “All mine.”

“Yeah- yeah, Jungkook. I’m all yours.” And you mean it. You mean it because in your state, you are. Because when he takes over your senses all you can think about is him, and how his you are. All you can think about is this moment and giving yourself to him completely. So you are all his, and he is all yours. When his fingers travel down, finding their place between your slit, you hiss, pulling away from him instinctively as the oversensitivity takes over. He feels how swollen you are, still dripping down his fingers. 

“Shh, baby. Just focus on my touch.”

“Okay,” you breathe, pushing back into his touch, closing your eyes as you concentrate on him and him only. 

“You’re so tight around my fingers. Can't wait to get my cock in here. You want that, ___?”

“Shit- yes,” your words are a whisper as he sinks his fingers into you, going straight for your g-spot. 

“Can I play with you a little first?” His next actions find you mid-nod, making you gasp as you feel his thumb gently graze over your asshole, a moan leaving your mouth. “Need your words, baby.”

“Yes. Please, Kook- nngh.”

He draws his tongue inside his mouth, collecting saliva before he lets it fall straight into your ass, watching as it falls down your pussy. You whine, needy and a little desperately and he doesn’t prolong the anticipation, fingers buried inside of you as he brings his tongue to your ass, giving tentative little licks as if to measure your reactions. You moan, face crashing against the mattress as your arms give out, cries of pleasure leaving you as Jungkook lets his tongue play, fucking your ass as his middle and ring finger rub at your clit in tight little circles. It’s damn near overwhelming, your moans growing high pitched and probably a little too loud, but you can’t quite register anything other than the pleasure he gives. 

Your second orgasm takes you by surprise, feeling the way your tummy tenses when Jungkook spits on your ass, closing his mouth around you as lewd little sounds fill the air, his fingers entering you once again, deeper and harder this time. You can’t even speak, your only way of letting him know is reaching behind you, taking hold of his thigh and digging your nails into them, a loud cry leaving you before you’re coming all around his mouth. All around his fingers. You come down on his tongue, falling into its languid little movements before you’re cringing back in overstimulation. 

“Fuck,” he says, coming up and running a hand through his hair. You smile at him, cheek still pressed to the mattress, ass up. “You look pretty like this.”

“Are you buttering me up so you can hit it in back shots?”

He laughs. “Can you take it, baby?”

You nod your head, giving him a lazy smile. “I want it.”

“How do you want it?”

“Hard.”

He smirks, bringing an open palm to your ass cheek as he spanks it. You moan, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as the pleasure swims over your body. You gather your strength, mainly induced by adrenaline as you bring yourself back up on your hands, pushing your ass back, looking at him seductively as you do so. He runs two fingers down his tongue, wetting them before bringing them back down to his cock, giving himself a few pumps before lining himself on your entrance. You sigh when his tip teases your hole, moan when he pushes into you, bottoming out on the first stroke, driving you forward a bit. 

“Fuck, you feel so warm.”

“You feel so big,” you breathe out, panting as you brace yourself for what your next words will ignite. “Fuck me, Kook. Please.”

He draws his hips back, eyes zeroing in on the way your juices coat his cock before he’s slamming right back into you. He groans and you gasp as his hands come down to your hips, holding you in place as he starts to fuck you. His pace grows slowly, steadily. He fucks you deep, lets you get used to him, measuring your reactions in the way you moan and arch your back, each of which ask for more. It feels so fucking good, your head falling between your arms as you let him use your body at his very desire, his cock hitting all your sweet spots with each drive of his hips, his breath and moans sounding so delicious, music to your ears, adding to the overall experience. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” His words are but a set of strangled breaths, a high pitch moan passing his lips that makes your entire body react to it as you clench around his fat cock. “I’m so close. Fuck.” He groans, spanking your ass again, growing feral. “Can you give me one more, baby?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“C’mon, angel. You can do it.”

“Fuck, Jungkook-” you cry out the minute his hips pick up the pace, angling you in the way only he knows how, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside of you and that’s all it takes for the pleasure to start building up in your lower stomach. “Shit- fuck. Just like that.”

He fucks you at that exact pace, chest rising and falling with the exertion of his actions but he can barely notice the way it spends his body, mind too focused on how good you feel – on how much he can feel you, almost as if your pussy was swallowing him back in with each pull. He slams his cock inside of you with force, balls slapping against your clit. He feels the way your body tenses, knows you’re close. 

“Fuck, yeah, baby. Cum for me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You feel the way your tummy locks in, body drawing back into itself before you’re letting go, muscles relaxing as you cum around Jungkook’s cock, his pace never faltering. “I’m cumming, oh my God.”

The way your pussy contracts around his cock sends him into overdrive, mind growing hazy at the feeling, your moans the perfect sound to pair it all with. His hips begin slowing down and he stops altogether, letting you milk his cock with the last remains of your orgasm. 

“Oh, fuck,” he says, voice whiny, eyes closed, nails digging at your flesh. 

“Cum in my mouth, baby, please.” Your voice is raspy, voice sore and body spent. You sound so sweet, so good. 

He can’t find his words, simply pulling off of you and crashing back against his pillows, running his hands down his face, cock angry and leaking. You find your place back in between his legs, hand wrapping around his cock as you give him a couple of pumps before your tongue circles the head. 

“Shit, baby,” he opens his eyes, looking down at you, moaning. 

“Cum for me, Kookie. Want it so bad.”

He nods, hand cupping your chin as he lets himself get lost in the way your mouth feels around him. You sink down on him, sucking on your way up, playing with his balls as you feel him grow tense. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He sighs, head drawing back before he’s looking back down at you, hand working on him and the tip of his cock on your tongue as you shake your head from side to side. He cums inside your mouth, hot strips of his release coating your tongue, some falling down your chin. It’s a sight to behold and Jungkook doesn’t miss a single second. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” he says, a bit deliriously. 

He sees the way you smile, swallowing before your eyes grow heavy, clouded with lust before you say, “thank you.”

Jungkook smiles, an airy laugh passing his lips before he’s bringing you back up, your body crashing against him as his crashes against the pillows. He kisses you, teeth clanking with yours and it makes the both of you giggle. 

“I’ve never ran a marathon but I feel like I just did,” you say. 

“I have and it feels just like this, yes.”

You chuckle and he swoons, finding you so sweet. You look at the window, see the tiny pockets of light that comes from the blinds. “The sun is coming out. What time is it?”

Jungkook looks at the clock on his nightstand. “6:23”

“Oh my God.”

“I’ve been fucking you for over two hours. What a life.” He sighs, closing his eyes and snuggling into the pillows. 

You look down at him, take him in. Your smile fades the more the sight before you makes your heart feel tight in your chest. Tight with love, tight with heartbreak. Your fingers come up to his cheek, softly touching him there, making him sigh in sweet satisfaction, eyes still closed. You feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours, his heartbeat in perfect sync with yours as it tries to steady itself. 

“I wish we could stay like this.”

“Me too,” he says, but he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t register the full extent of your words. After all, only you know what you mean. “Soori’ll be up in like an hour or so, the others in maybe two, three hours. We should try to sleep while she still does.” 

“Okay.” You kiss him, lips locked on his, trying to lock the memory in as best as you can. When you pull away you smile, endeared by the smile that forms on his own lips. You begin to pull your body away from his and he frowns, hand closing around your arm. 

“Where are you going?”

“To my room, just in case-”

“No. Stay here. Please.”

“Are you sure?” He nods, pulling you closer. “Okay.”

“Good.” He kisses you again. 

“I should pee. And you should, too.”

“My dick is broken,” he mocks sleep, shutting his eyes closed, making you laugh.

“Come on!” You pull him by the arms, dead weight that you carry halfway through his king size bed. 

But once you get him out of the bed, he manages to get you inside the shower, quickly lathering your bodies in foamy soap, in a silence that you find comforting, powered by the exhaustion that runs through your bodies. But nonetheless, he’s gentle as he runs the sponge down your body, and you’re gentle as you lather him up, too, stealing kisses here and there. 

When you finally get in bed, it takes him about ten seconds to fall into what you know is a deep slumber, the last thing he says to you is, “good night!” as tiny chuckles escape him through the irony of his words. You look at him, feel the way his breath grows heavy, hair wet against the pillows, lips full and plump and red from your kisses, looking so peaceful and so beautiful. A beauty you know comes once in a lifetime. 

You smile. 

“I love you,” you whisper at him, head falling to his chest before sleep begins to take over your mind and body, a smile on your face.

If you’re to wake up and make sane decisions, let yourself have at least one night to take with you, forever. 

~

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[moonscriptsx]

Daylight || 02 (M)

PART 1

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

SYNOPSIS:  Between the endless flirty banter or secret looks of longing, the line between you and your boss had always been slightly blurred. But when a night out with friends has you and your boss meeting for the first time outside of the workplace, that line starts to become nonexistent as mutual feelings are brought to light.

PAIRING: CEO!Wonwoo x Assistant!Reader [with appearances by Mingyu (a self-proclaimed Cupid extraordinaire), Soonyoung & Joshua as supportive besties, Seungkwan & Seokmin as the life of the party, Seungcheol (a menace), and a brief glimpse of Chan.]

GENRE: Coworkers→Friends→Lovers!AU – Fluff + Smut [minors dni]

WORDS: 12.7k.

WARNINGS: Slowburn, pining from both ends. Reader is constantly in a silent crisis when it comes to feelings, and Wonwoo is possessive (both in and out of the bedroom). Mentions of alcohol, cursing, and grinding on the dancefloor. Wonwoo is a slightly hard!dom but talks you through it so sweetly it'll make you melt. Oral (both recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), messy orgasms. Slight choking, dirty talk, alludes to squirting. Wonwoo is a pussy fiend.

A/N: We've made it to part 2!!! Thank you to everyone who left messages/comments on the first part! Seeing such positive feedback has made my heart soar to the heavens and honestly a little emotional hahahaha. This is the first thing I've written in almost 4 years so I was a little apprehensive when it came to posting 'cause I felt like I was incredibly rusty. Anyway, enough blabbering from me – I hope everyone enjoys the final part! 🥰

PLAYLIST: wonder by shawn mendes // right here by chase atlantic // with me by sum41 // never let me go by florence + the machine // love (feat. zacari) by kendrick lamar // wfm by realestk // mine (feat. drake) by beyonce // fine line by harry styles

The pounding in your head is a telltale sign of a night well spent when you wake up the next day, a groan emitting from your lips. Somehow Soonyoung had convinced everyone to migrate from the club to a karaoke bar halfway through the night, resulting in you stumbling home drunk off your ass at half past three in the morning. And while a hangover is a sign of a successful night out — you want nothing more than to shove your face back into your pillow.

Just as you maneuver yourself to dive back under the covers, your phone buzzes from beside you, the ringer doing absolutely nothing to aid your headache as you blindly reach for the device, not bothering to look at the caller.

“Hello?” You grumble, irritated at the disruption.

A deep chuckle ringing in your ear has your body shooting straight up from your bed.

“Rough night, sweetheart?” Wonwoo’s voice is teasing and you can’t help but feel your face flush at the endearing term.

“I — Mr. Jeon!” You stutter out, face flushing with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t check to see who was calling before I answered.”

“Understandable,” he reassures. “With the amount of drinks we had last night I don’t blame you for sleeping in.”

Sleeping in…?

Bringing the phone away from your ear, you glance at the time on your phone.

10:45 am.

“Oh, fuck!” You cursed, ripping the covers away from your body as you scrambled to get out of bed. From the receiving end, Wonwoo can’t help but laugh as he hears the commotion on your side.

“Mr. Jeon, I'm so sorry —!”

“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” there he goes again, using the term of endearment like it doesn’t send your heart hammering a mile a minute in your chest. “I just got to the office not too long ago. It’s not a big deal.”

But it is a big deal, you thought to yourself. Not once in the two years that you’ve been Wonwoo’s assistant have you ever been late. You pride yourself on being punctual, making sure to get to the office at least thirty minutes before you were scheduled just so that you could get everything set up and ready to go by the time you had to clock in.

“Sir I’m —“

“(Y/N),” Your breath catches in your throat at the sound of your name. “Are you in the office right now?”

Your eyebrows furrow at that.

“No,” you reply, confused.

“So why the formalities then?”

“I —“ you pause, trying to catch your breath from the sudden question. “You’re my boss. Am I not supposed to address you as such?”

“After last night, I’ve come to realize I don’t want you to call me anything but my name.”

Your face grows hotter at his words, flashes of the two of you unabashedly grinding against one another in the club fills your mind, and you’re sucking in a harsh breath as you try to ignore the heat growing in between your legs.

“Last night was kind of crazy, huh?” You bite your lip in nervousness, trying to steady your rapid heartbeat.

“It wasn’t enough for me.”

Oh, you thought to yourself. I’m fucked…

“Wonwoo,” you breathe out, and you can hear him sigh at the sound of his name.

There’s a brief silence on the other end and you’re starting to think maybe he’s regretting everything from last night to this morning until you hear his hum of approval.

“Anyways,” Wonwoo clears his throat. “Take your time getting to the office, sweetheart. You deserve a peaceful start to the morning.”

A soft hum escapes you at his words, an eyebrow quirking in amusement as you balance the phone between your ear and shoulder.

“Are you sure?” You muse, teasingly. “I’m scared the office will be in shambles by the time I get there.”

A chuckle reverberates from the receiving end, butterflies filling your stomach as your boss tuts quietly.

“I’ll have you know that Mingyu is doing a fine job —“

“No I’m not!” There’s a groan in the background, a giggle escaping your lips as you hear a scuffle on the other end. “He’s torturing me, (Y/N)!”

“I am not,” Wonwoo scoffs.

“He’s making me wait on hand and foot for him!”

You let out a full blown laugh at that, shaking your head at Mingyu’s dramatics.

“Aw, poor baby,” you coo. “He’s not used to having to do things for someone else.”

“Excuse me — hey!”

There’s a distant bang on the receiver, the sound of a lock clicking through the phone and Mingyu’s distant shouts as you realize Wonwoo had closed the door to his office.

“I should give him more work,” you hear your boss grumble. “He’s been far too happy these days.”

“I have some ideas,” you muse in response, making Wonwoo chuckle.

“Good,” he hums. “We can go over them when you get here.”

It’s half past twelve in the afternoon when you finally make it into the office, in a much happier mood than you are usually in when you arrive in the morning. An iced coffee is in your right hand while you carry your laptop bag in the other, greeting every scowling face you pass by as you make your way to your desk. Placing your belongings onto your station, you pay no mind to the mass of missed calls as you push open the door to your boss’s office. There’s a playful smile painted on your lips as you cross your arms over your chest, body leaning against the doorframe as Wonwoo looks up from his computer, the man smirking as he sits back against his chair.

“There she is,” he greets. “Did you have a nice morning?”

“I slept peacefully,” you respond. “But I was rudely awakened by a phone call.”

“Oh?” He asks with mock concern. “And who dares to wake the princess from her slumber?”

You bite back a smile, adjusting your weight from one foot to the other, and give him a pointed gaze.

“My asshole boss.”

Your response has Wonwoo throwing his head back, a genuine laugh escaping him as he grins at your words.

“Touche,” he beams. “It’s been a dull morning without you here.”

It’s a genuine sentiment that makes your heart pound against your ribcage, those damned butterflies fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach, and you can feel your cheeks heat up as you bashfully break eye contact. Clearing your throat, you try to get a hold of the nervousness as you shoot him a questioning glance.

“Was Mingyu not keeping you enough company?” You ask.

“Not the kind of company I had hoped for.”

Wonwoo’s words make your breath catch in your throat, his sharp gaze heated underneath the thick rims of his glasses, and you felt your mouth go dry as you watched him lean back against his chair. Broad shoulders are slouched in comfort, his toned chest visibly defined through the tight fabric of his shirt. His sleeves are carelessly buttoned up to his elbows, the muscles of his arms making you want to salivate at the sight, and you can only blink at him before you snap out of your daze.

Unfolding your arms, you push yourself off of the doorway and gesture towards your desk placed right outside his office.

“I should get to work,” you murmur, making Wonwoo frown. “I'm already hours behind and I’m sure Mingyu didn’t do much to help.”

Not waiting around to hear his response, you turn on your heel and tread back to your desk, all the while trying to keep your heartbeat steady and those damn butterflies out of your stomach.

“Kim Mingyu, I'm going to murder you.”

The grumble falls out dejectedly from your lips as you glare at the screen in front of you, mentally cursing the tall businessman into oblivion. Not only had he rearranged the setup of your email, he had completely screwed up the excel sheet for next week’s company meeting. Every detail you had notated for Wonwoo was now scattered and jumbled amongst the cells as they sat in completely different categories than they had been previously. If you had been one of those old cartoon characters, you were certain that steam would be coming out of your ears.

Inhaling sharply, you crack your knuckles and your neck before hastily getting to work. The setback of sleeping in this morning has its consequences as you sit at your desk and try – keyword: try – to fix the absolute shitstorm that Mingyu had left behind. A task which ended up turning into hours upon hours of you clicking from cell to cell, meticulously moving each key point back to its designated section. There’s a slight sting in your eyes as your vision blurred from having to stare at the screen for so long, and you huff in annoyance as you save the excel spreadsheet, mentally waving a white flag as you give up on the document for the day.

Running your hands over your face, you glance at the clock at the bottom left of your screen.

05:54 PM.

Sighing in annoyance, you glance around the office. Most of your co-workers had left right at five, not wanting to spend another minute stuck in their cubicle. Had you not slept in, you would’ve gotten out sooner rather than later, but you wanted to make up for the time (and mistakes Mingyu had made) lost.

Hovering your cursor over your email, you clicked the envelope and stared at the unread emails on your screen. A quick glance over the senders names has you instantly weaning out the priority ones from the junk ones, before you’re opening one from Seungcheol. Skimming over his response, you can feel the air in your lungs tighten as your gaze freezes over the last sentence of his response.

Ms. (Y/N),

Your speedy response as well as the insight you have provided is much appreciated! It’s nice to know that the man I am working on this project with has such a reliable and efficient staff working for him. Please tell Wonwoo I am looking forward to this meeting next week.

P.S; I did not realize a congratulations was in order for the two of you! I wish you a happy and healthy marriage! Many blessings to you both.

Choi Seungcheol – Personal Representative of Choi Industries

Glancing at the email Mingyu had sent from your account earlier that morning, your blood runs cold as your gaze darts to the signature printed on the screen below your response.

Much regards, Jeon (Y/N).

“KIM MINGYU!”

You’re fuming as you bolt out of your chair and yell out into the quiet office space, the quickened pace of your heart pumping loudly in your ears as your angered footsteps walk away from your desk and down the hallway into Mingyu’s office. If looks could kill you knew he would be dead as his eyes widened, a pleading - almost puppy like - gaze falling on yours as he raised his hands in defense.

“I didn’t do it!” He denies, and you can only grit your teeth at the businessman.

“Bullshit,” you spat. “You were the only one on my computer today.”

“How do you know that?” He asks, defensively. “You were out all morning. Someone else could’ve used it.”

“Don’t play with me, Gyu,” you grit out harshly. “This is my job you’re messing with!”

Mingyu’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” He questioned. “All I did was rearrange a few things -”

“My email signature!” You yelled, anger flaring through your veins as realization crossed his features. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

The defensive expression on Mingyu’s face washes into a smug one, brown eyes dancing with mischief as he smirks and crosses his arms over his broad chest.

“Oh, that,” he muses. “You don’t like it?”

“I am going to murder you,” you bite out, making Mingyu’s smirk widen into a shameless grin.

“It’s not that big of a deal -”

“What’s going on?”

You instinctively freeze at the deep rumble from behind you, eyes widening in alarm as you give Mingyu a warning glance. The man in front of you only beamed in delight as he leaned around your frame from where he sat at his desk to grin at your boss who was now standing behind you.

“Your assistant is threatening me,” he states, pointing a finger in your direction. “I don’t feel safe in this workplace.”

Wonwoo purses his lips, giving Mingyu an accusing glance.

“I’m sure it’s for good reason,” he muses. “She doesn’t just threaten anyone.”

“You’re taking her side?!” The businessman whines, slouching in defeat. “None of you in this office have my back.”

Your glare hardens as you stare at the man before you.

“Maybe if you weren’t such an insufferable prick we’d be a lot nicer.”

Mingyu’s mouth drops open at your words, hurt flashing across his features as his face falls.

“(Y/N),” he murmurs. “It was a joke.”

You could feel Wonwoo take a step closer towards you, the warmth of his body mere centimeters from your back as he towers over your frame to glare at Mingyu.

“What did you do?”

He doesn’t even have to raise his voice to get his point across, the harsh tone a warning in itself as he glowers at his friend.

Mingyu lowers his head in defeat.

“I changed her email signature,” he mutters, shamefully.

Wonwoo’s jaw sets.

“Changed it to what?” He asks. Mingyu’s gaze is still locked on the papers scattered on his desk.

“Jeon (Y/N).”

A wave of embarrassment crosses your features at Mingyu’s words as you fight off the heat that floods your cheeks. From behind you, you can feel Wonwoo inhale sharply, followed by an exasperated exhale falling from the CEO as he inched closer to your form. A fleeting touch of his fingers brushing against the small of your back has you freezing on the spot, your body not willing to move an inch as Wonwoo’s presence looms over you.

There’s a pregnant pause, no breaths taken, until a soft rumble reverberates against your back.

“Well,” Wonwoo begins, a smirk of amusement playing on his lips. “That explains the influx of texts and emails congratulating me on my marriage.”

A sharp turn of your head has your gaze falling on the amused CEO behind you, your eyes widening in shock as you stare at your boss. Mingyu lets out a bark of a laugh, a sigh of relief escaping him as Wonwoo’s eyes glint in the lights, his glasses long forgotten in his office as he quirked an eyebrow at you.

You’re rendered speechless at the two men, completely taken off guard at their unbothered stance on the matter at hand. Your weary gaze meets Wonwoo’s humorous one, your boss offering you a reassuring smile before he’s looking towards Mingyu.

“Go change it back,” he orders, giving his friend a warning look. Mingyu’s amusement diminishes instantaneously.

“Aw, c’mon,” he groans. “Is it really that big of a deal?!”

“Yes,” you grit harshly, glaring at the tall brunette. “It’s unprofessional.”

Mingyu pouts, eyes darting back and forth between you and Wonwoo.

“It wouldn’t be if it was true.”

His murmured words have your fists clenching at your sides, your lips parting to scold him once more when Wonwoo places a hand on your shoulder, urging you to stay quiet.

“Now.”

Mingyu flinches at Wonwoo’s order, his head hanging low shamefully as he begrudgingly pushes himself away from his desk. Wonwoo’s hand stays put on your shoulder, slender fingers gently grasping your body as he subtly pulls you into him as his friend trudges out of the office.

“And Mingyu?” He calls out, making his friend freeze on the spot as he half turns to look back at his boss. “Go pick up the food I ordered from Dae’s.”

Mingyu’s mouth falls open, a whine escaping him.

“What?!” He splutters, helplessly. “She’s the assistant -”

“And she’s assisting me with something else,” Wonwoo cuts him off. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

Closing his mouth, Mingyu hesitates, brown eyes scanning the two of you before he’s rolling them with a huff and walking away. You’re glued to the spot as Wonwoo’s sharp gaze falls on you, a frown painted across his lips. Without his glasses, there’s nothing shielding the piercing look in his eyes as he leans in closer towards you. There’s a flash of sadness crossing his features as he presses gently against you, his big hands finding purchase on the edge of Mingyu’s desk as he cages you between it.

“Mr. Jeon –”

“Wonwoo,” he corrects.

The deep rumble of his voice vibrates against your chest as he peers down at you, neck bent slightly as he lowers himself to level his gaze with yours.

“What’s going on?” You ask, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat as heat flares through your body.

Wonwoo’s frown deepens.

“Would it be so bad?” He asks, making you shoot him a confused look. You’re about to ask him what he means when he cuts you off. “Being my wife?”

Those damned butterflies flutter away in the pit of your stomach at his questions, your eyes widening in shock, and your lips part in surprise as you stare at the man in front of you. The close proximity of his body against yours has heat flaring through your veins as his warmth engulfs you, completely overtaking your senses as his hands move from the desk to slide along your arms.

“I – What..?”

Your spluttering doesn’t falter his movements once, his intense gaze boring into yours as his fingers glide along the expanse of your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“It’s a yes or no question, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his warm breath fanning against your cheek as his hands reach up to gently grasp your face.

You can’t help but to relish in his touch, eyes closing as you melt into his warmth, and your breath catches in your throat as he brushes his nose against yours.

“Answer me, (Y/N).”

Letting your fingers grasp around his wrists, you fight to catch your breath as you manage to meet his gaze despite the overwhelming fluttering happening in the pit of your stomach.

“No,” you finally answer. “It wouldn’t.”

Wonwoo’s grip on your face tightens, his eyes darkening with desire, and his lip curls upwards as he looks at you.

“I could make you my wife,” he states, and you almost whine with want as his lips brush against yours with every word. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Mr. Jeon –”

“Wonwoo,” he growls, pulling you flush against him as his lips hover yours. “Call me anything but my name again and I’ll show you what happens to girls who don’t listen.”

A shaky breath escapes you at his words and you can’t fight back the shutter of anticipation as his lips ghost along the corner of yours.

“Wonwoo,” you breathe out, making him hum in response. “We can’t.”

“We can,” he reassures, and it takes everything in you to draw back from him.

“No,” you deny, even though every instinct in your body is screaming the opposite. “We can’t.”

Wonwoo clenches his jaw, lips pressed into a tight line, and he glowers at you as he shoots you a disapproving look.

“And why not?” He asks, gritting his teeth. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Well, for starters, you’re my boss,” you begin, trying to push away the heat pooling between your thighs as Wonwoo’s gaze pierces through yours. “That’s an HR violation that I don’t want to have attached to my name.”

“I can take care of that,” he counters. “Any violation towards you will be overruled.”

“That can be considered as nepotism,” you point out. “People are going to think I slept my way to the top.”

Anger flashes in his eyes.

“If anyone says anything negative towards you or about you I’ll have them blacklisted in all regions of this goddamn country,” he growls.

“Wonu.”

Cautiously you reach forward, your hands cupping his face as you try to settle the rage within him. His eyes are blazing into yours, a fire lit within the darkened irises, and he’s gripping your wrists like a lifeline.

“I mean it,” he affirms. “You’ve been with me for two years. Twenty-four months, (Y/N). You have shown nothing but loyalty towards me, and towards this company. You are the hardest working woman I’ve ever encountered, and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

Your heart swells at his words, a shaky breath escaping you as he presses you back against Mingyu’s desk.

“You have never been just my assistant,” he murmurs. “And you know it.”

There are a million sirens blaring in your brain, signaling for you to back off, to pull away and resist the urges. But with Wonwoo’s warm breath fanning against your cheek, his sharp nose gently brushing against yours, there’s no hesitation within you as you card your fingers through his hair and pull him towards you, your lips pressing firmly against his.

A groan of approval reverberates against your mouth as Wonwoo clutches your body against his, the tall stature of his frame enveloping yours as he bends you back against the desk. The heat emitting off of his body courses through your veins as his needy lips move against yours, his hands dropping to grip the back of your thighs as he lifts you up onto the desk. Your nails dig into the nape of his neck as his tongue runs along the seam of your lips, begging for you to part them as he wraps your legs around his hips. A moan escapes you as your lips part, allowing Wonwoo’s tongue to meet yours in a haste that leaves you breathless.

You’re drawing back from him, in what was supposed to be a brief moment to catch your breath, but he’s chasing your lips with no hesitation. Greedy hands are gliding along your thighs before he’s clutching them, blunt nails digging into the flesh as he marks them with his touch. The action draws a mewl from you, a desperate whine escaping your lips as you reciprocate the action by digging your nails into his back. Wonwoo growls against your mouth.

“Are you challenging me?” He asks, words muffled against your lips. You smirk in response.

“Maybe,” you tease coyly, making him draw back from you.

There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes and he’s pulling you even closer towards him until your clothed cunt is pressed against his hardening bulge. The hand that held your thigh starts to slither upwards, calloused fingers teasingly brushing against the hem of your lace panties as Wonwoo dips his head into the crook of your neck.

His tongue flattens against the juncture that’s between your shoulder and your neck before he’s grazing his teeth along your skin, your breath catching in your throat when you feel him run his fingers along your clothed core. He smirks against your skin when you mewl in response, your hips lifting off of the desk as an attempt to gain more friction. Wonwoo tuts under his breath, digits teasingly brushing against your panties.

“Needy girl,” he remarks, nipping playfully at your neck. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already soaked for me.”

You groan at his words, back arching as you try to press yourself flush against him.

“I’m always soaked for you,” you confess, and you nearly shiver at the flash of desire that sparks within his dark eyes.

“Yeah?” He asks, fingers now gripping the hem of your panties. “Have you been thinking about me, sweetheart?”

You can only moan in reply, hissing when the cool air of the office hits your bare pussy as Wonwoo slides your panties down your legs.

“Do you think about me being underneath your desk? About me being on my knees with my head between your thighs while I lick your cunt?”

Wonwoo’s words sends heat straight to your core, a whimper escaping you as he’s teasingly sliding his digits along your folds so he can coat them in your arousal. You could almost cry with the amount of tension between your thighs, your cunt begging to be touched as he levels his face with yours, dark eyes fueled with desire as they meet yours.

“Or do you think about me bending you over my desk and fucking you from behind?” You watch as he brings his fingers up to his mouth, his tongue licking your arousal clean off of them.

The lewd sight has you keening with want, your hands reaching out to grab his belt buckle as you blindly undo his pants. Wonwoo clenches his teeth before catching your wrist and pinning it next to you on the desk. The action causes you to smirk up at him, a feigned innocence playing on your features.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he grits, making the smirk on your face widen.

“Oh, I have every intent of finishing you.”

Wonwoo opens his mouth to retort when the distant ‘ding’ of the elevator echoes in the hallway, your eyes widening in alarm, and you hastily push your boss away from you as you scramble to climb off of Mingyu’s desk. Standing back on your feet, you can’t even spare a glance toward the man who just had his tongue down your throat (and who is now shoving your forgotten panties in his pocket) as you straighten your skirt and power walk back to your desk, trying to ignore the aching that settled between your thighs.

“Are you going to tell us what the emergency meeting is for?”

Soonyoung and Joshua’s worried gazes make you want to shrink into the booth, the after effects of what you and Wonwoo had done in Mingyu’s office weighing on you like a dumbbell crushing your chest. You had fucked up and let your desire get the best of you instead of listening to the rational part of your brain — and it was eating you alive.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you guiltily look down at the menu on the table.

“Something happened between Wonwoo and I,” you muttered, shamefully.

Soonyoung and Joshua blink, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Isn’t… isn’t that what you wanted…?” Joshua asks, and you frown.

“Well, yes, but —“

“No but’s, (Y/N),” Soonyoung tuts. “Clearly you and Wonwoo have feelings for each other. Something was going to happen eventually.”

“Yes, eventually,” you clarify. “Not this soon! Especially not with me and him almost fucking on Mingyu’s desk.”

“WHAT?!”

The sudden outburst from the two of them echoes in the diner, earning dirty looks from the other customers as you palm your face in embarrassment. Your cheeks grow hot as shame washes over your body, a groan escaping your lips as you peek at your friends, both of which are staring at you with wide eyes and open mouths.

“It just happened, okay,” you defended yourself. “One minute I was telling him we can’t pursue anything and the next I’m on top of Mingyu’s desk with Wonwoo’s tongue down my throat.”

“Okay, first — ew,” Joshua grimaces. “I don’t need a visual.”

“That’s kinda hot, actually,” Soonyoung counters. “Fucking in the workplace? Nice.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, glaring at both of them. “This is a serious issue.”

Joshua purses his lips, his gaze scrutinizing.

“Not really,” he dismisses. “From everything you have told us, it sounds like he reciprocates your feelings, honey.”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung agrees. “And I saw you two at the club the other day. Whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, both of you are down bad.”

You roll your eyes at Soonyoung’s words, scoffing as you take a sip of your water.

“And besides,” he continues. “He’s your friend —“

“He’s my boss,” you reiterate. “I’m his assistant, Soonyoung. That’s unprofessional.”

“It’s only unprofessional if you make it unprofessional,” Joshua states. “I’m sure if the two of you became official you’re not going to flaunt it at the office.”

“Even if they did, who cares?” Soonyoung shrugs. “Employee relationships happen all the time.”

“Yes, employee’s date each other. Not bosses and their assistants.”

“I don’t know if I believe that,” Joshua clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Have you ever watched ‘The Nanny’?”

“Seriously, Shua?” You rolled your eyes. “First off, that’s a TV show, meaning it’s fictional. Secondly — she was his nanny, not his assistant.”

“But the point still stands,” he continues. “The two of them fell in love regardless of their positions. And they didn’t care who found out or what would come of it.”

You sigh, knowing he’s right.

“HR is going to have a field day with this,” you muttered. “And I’m going to get fired.”

Soonyoung shrugs as he takes a sip of his drink.

“Who cares,” he dismisses. “You can’t help who you gain feelings for. And, besides, if you get fired Wonwoo can take care of you.”

“I don’t need someone to take care of me,” you snapped. “I want to keep my job.”

“And he’ll make sure you will,” Joshua reassured you, gently placing his hand on yours. “But you have to talk to him, (Y/N). He has feelings too.”

Your shoulders slump in defeat at his words, a heaviness weighing on your heart, before you’re reluctantly nodding.

“You’re right,” you concede. “I’ll talk to him.”

Settling back against the booth cushions, Joshua offers you a smile of encouragement before he’s picking his menu up from the table.

“Alright, now who’s hungry?”

You did not, in fact, talk to Wonwoo.

Instead, for the first time in the two years that you had been working for him, you called out sick.

You knew that Joshua and Soonyoung were right when they told you to talk to Wonwoo, to lay out all feelings and thoughts in order to understand what it was that was going on between the two of you. But the mere thought of being in a room with him after what had happened in Mingyu’s office and the thought of not being able to trust yourself around him was too much, that all of the pent up feelings and tension would end up causing both of you to snap and make a move that would ultimately change your dynamic forever – as if it hadn’t already.

You knew that if Mingyu hadn’t gotten back to the office at the time that he did, the situation between you and Wonwoo most definitely would have escalated into something more. You knew that Wonwoo had been seconds away from dropping to his knees and spreading your legs, licking and sucking until you were a writhing, crying mess on his friend’s desk. And that’s why you called out.

“What do you mean you’re not coming in?” Mingyu had asked, exasperatedly.

“I’m calling out,” you reiterated. “I don’t feel well.”

“I –” Mingyu paused, a heavy sigh following. “Why are you telling me and not Wonwoo?”

There had been a brief pause on your end, your throat tightening as your mind had flashed back to the events days prior.

“Gyu, please. Just tell him I’m not coming in today,” you begged. “I’m sorry.”

You should’ve caught the worried tone that had been in Mingyu’s voice. You should’ve known that he would’ve caught on to your pitiful lie, that he was going to run straight to the source itself to find out what the actual reason for your calling out was.

But most of all, you should’ve predicted that Wonwoo’s persistence and stubbornness would get to the better of him.

A knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you wearily walk over to it and peer out of the peephole, your breath catching in your throat as you stare at the man who stood outside of it.

With his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks, glasses perched on his nose, and a determined expression on his face stood Wonwoo. Those damned butterflies are fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach at the sight of your boss, your heart speeding up as you contemplate not answering the door – but you knew better than that. You knew that despite you calling out this morning that Wonwoo was going to want an explanation. That despite your best efforts to deflect from the situation just days before, he was going to want to discuss the matter at hand sooner rather than later.

Taking a deep breath, you allow yourself a moment to collect your composure before opening the door.

You stare dumbfoundedly at your boss, shock lit across your features as you stand in the doorway.

“How – how did you get my address?”

Wonwoo’s expression is stony, his gaze piercing yours through the thick rims of his glasses, and you catch the movement of his jaw clenching as he glares at you.

“You’re avoiding me.”

His tone is cold as he deflects your question and the harshness of his voice makes you wish the ground would open up from beneath you and swallow you whole, all the while suddenly painfully aware that you’re standing in front of your boss in nothing but your oversized sleep shirt.

“I – I’m not avoiding you,” you stuttered out. “I wasn’t feeling well this morning.”

Wonwoo’s eyes narrow into a menacing glare.

“You and I both know that that is a lie.”

Pushing past you, you watch open-mouthed as Wonwoo makes his way into your apartment, a bolt of panic rushing through you as you fumble to close the door behind you. His back is to you as he faces your living room and you watch as his hands slip out of his pockets, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides before he’s turning to look at you in the doorway.

“You called Mingyu,” he bites out, menacingly. “Instead of calling me, your boss, you called Mingyu.”

Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, your feet shuffle nervously as your gaze drops to the ground.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you say quietly, making Wonwoo scoff.

“Cut it out, (Y/N),” he spats. “You bother me more often than most of my other employee’s do.”

There’s a blow to your ego at his words as your head snaps up to look at him, hurt flaring in your eyes as you glared right back at your boss.

“Then why keep me around?” You ask, harshly. “If I’m such a fucking bother to you why not fire me?”

Wonwoo grits his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes.

“Because I cannot fathom the idea of my life without you in it!”

The sudden confession knocks the air out of your lungs, your lips parting in shock, and the butterflies multiply tenfold as Wonwoo stares at you with a gaze mixed with fury and desire. You’re frozen to the spot as Wonwoo steps closer, the intensity of his stare igniting your body on fire as the warmth of him envelops you.

“Whether it’s having you as my assistant or to just simply bask in your presence,” he begins, his voice lowering. “The thought of not seeing you even for a day makes me want to go crazy.”

Your back presses against the door as he leans in closer, one arm perched above you as he looms over you. Your breath is caught in your throat at the close proximity of him, the scent of his cologne filling your senses and clouding your judgment as he levels his face with yours.

“You’re all I think about, you’re all I dream about,” he continues, gaze softening as he presses closer to you. “You have infiltrated every part of my being since the moment you first walked into my office.”

A shaky breath escapes you as your heart soars at his words, and your hands ache to reach out and hold his face.

“Wonwoo…” You catch the flash of desire in his eyes as you mutter his name. “There is so much at stake for me if we pursue this. I could lose my job –”

“I will take care of you,” he cuts you off, matter-of-factly. “I know that’s probably not what you want to hear but if it comes down to it, I will take care of the damage I’ve caused if it means I get to keep you in my life.”

Your gaze softens at his words.

You knew the stakes, you knew what was going to happen the moment you and Wonwoo solidified crossing the lines – you knew that your position as his assistant was over. Everything you achieved in the last two years had been for him, had been because of him. Wonwoo was your biggest supporter, whether he voiced it or not, and you hadn’t realized until recently that your admiration for his hard work and brilliant business mind had morphed into admiration for him – Jeon Wonwoo. Not the CEO you had worked for day in and day out. It was for the man who encouraged you to speak up in meetings despite your lack of status, the man who would go out of his way to bring you lunch, flowers, or gifts when he knew you were having a bad day. It was for the man who stood before you pouring his heart out despite the repercussions.

With shaky hands you’re reaching out to cup his face, your thumbs gently stroking his defined jaw as you peer up at him.

“I have grown to care for you, Jeon Wonwoo,” you murmur, and Wonwoo lets out a shaky breath as he presses flush against you, trapping you between his body and your front door. “In a way that assistant’s probably shouldn’t care for their bosses.”

A half-hearted laugh escapes him at that, his eyes twinkling in amusement, and you can’t help but to grin up at him. He’s still looming over you with one arm pressed against the doorframe, his other wrapping around your waist before he’s tilting his head down to yours. Warm lips encase themselves around yours and you can feel your heart beating against your ribcage as he kisses you slowly, passion pouring through him. You can feel your breath escape your lungs as you kiss him back, completely relishing in the taste and feel of him pressed against you as he kisses you earnestly.

Drawing back slightly, there’s a fleeting moment between the two of you as you stare into each other’s eyes, a silent acceptance of the lines between you becoming nonexistent, and it’s nothing short of a relief as you’re both pulled by an invisible force back to one another.

Your hands move to entangle themselves in his raven locks, fingers tugging at the roots as your lips fuse together in a frenzy. Wonwoo groans against your mouth as his arms move to wrap around your waist, his body flush against yours as your lips lock in fervor. As he tilts his head to the side, his tongue dips out from his lips to run along the seam of yours, which part almost instantly in response. A deep rumble reverberates from his chest as his tongue traces every nook and cranny of your mouth, almost as if he was memorizing every detail. Wonwoo’s hands move from your waist down to the hem of your sleep shirt before he’s teasingly gripping the hem of it and drawing back from your mouth.

Teeth graze over the skin of your neck as Wonwoo presses you back into the door, nimble fingers sliding underneath the hem of your shirt as he latches onto the pulse point on your neck. Your lips part in a wanton moan as he sucks a mark into your skin, his warm hand encasing around your bare breast. Arching your back into his touch, you’re keening in pleasure as Wonwoo pinches the sensitive bud between his thumb and pointer finger, a smirk dancing across his lips at your response. He’s grazing his nose against your neck before clutching your hips.

“Wanna taste you,” he breathes out, his breath fanning against your skin. “Wanna devour you until your legs are shaking.”

You can barely keep your vision focused on him as you watch him sink to his knees, his sharp gaze piercing into yours as his hands glide from your waist to your thighs, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk as you whimper in anticipation. Sneaking them underneath the hem of your shirt, he’s tugging at your panties before pulling them down your legs and tossing them aside. You watch as your boss hitches one leg over his shoulder, his piercing gaze never leaving yours as he leans forward to run the tip of his tongue along your soaked folds.

A moan escapes your lips, your head tilting back and resting against the door, and your fingers tangle in his tresses as he hums appreciatively at your response. Blunt nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as Wonwoo completely sheaths his face between your legs, unabashedly licking at your cunt. Shameless moans are falling from your lips as Wonwoo licks without abandon, his nose pressing into your clit as he mouths and sucks at your core. Your nails are digging into his scalp, body arching off of the door as you relish in the feel of his tongue. Your body feels like it’s on fire as his hands glide underneath your shirt, warm hands encasing around your breasts before he’s squeezing them.

A deep growl resonates from him before his head is completely disappearing underneath your shirt, his mouth flush with your cunt as he grips your beasts, a harsh suck to your clit as he shakes his head from side to side, tongue gliding along your folds in a way that has you crying out into your apartment, his name falling like a mantra from your lips as your hands claw at his clothed back.

“Wonu, oh, fuck…!”

There's a sly smirk dancing across his lips as you feel him tilt his head, the tip of his tongue circling your clit until he’s flattening it, sucking it harshly into his mouth as he hums against you. Heat pools in the pit of your stomach at his ministrations, your chest heaving with pleasure until he’s reaching behind you to grip the flesh of your ass and pulling your cunt flush to his mouth.The pressure of his tongue flicking against your clit is enough to have you unraveling against him, a cry of his name escaping you as your body does exactly what he wanted it to.

Your thighs clamped around his head as he brought you to your release, your nails clawing at his clothed back as you lurch forward in pleasure. He’s lazily lapping at your folds, licking the remnants of your essence up as you tremble in ecstasy. The soft kitten licks at your core have you whimpering from the overstimulation before you can make out the muffled groan from underneath your shirt as Wonwoo draws back, his face shining with remnants of your arousal as he licks his lips. His hair sticks up slightly from being trapped between your legs, the glasses that were perched on his nose completely fogged up, and the sight of your boss’s disheveled appearance is so erotic it gives you enough incentive to fist your hands through his hair before pulling him up to you.

You taste your arousal on his tongue as his lips meet yours, your hands fumbling with the buttons on his shirt before you’re undoing them and all but ripping the fabric off of him. A growl reverberates into your mouth as he grips your thighs and hauls you up, locking your legs around his waist.

“Where’s your room?” He asks, words muffled against your lips.

“Down the hall to the right.”

It’s a clash of tongues and teeth as he’s gripping you close to him, blindly navigating the two of you down the hall and kicking your bedroom door closed before he’s laying you on your bed. Your nails rake down the expanse of his broad back as he tugs your shirt up and over your head, throwing it carelessly as he revels in the sight of your naked body in front of him. His hungry gaze rakes along every bump and curve, his glasses slipping down his nose as he takes in the sight.

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips before he’s leaning down to hover over your body.

“You’re fucking exquisite,” he breathes out, greedy hands plucking at your nipples as he sucks a mark into your chest. “Better than any dream I’ve ever had.”

Your breath hitches at his words, another pool of arousal flooding between your thighs as you arch into his touch.

“You’ve dreamt of me?” You ask breathlessly, and Wonwoo lifts his head from your chest to give you a look full of desire.

“Sweetheart, I’ve dreamt of you every night since the day you’ve stepped into my office.”

You mewl as his lips enclose around your pert nipple, his teeth clamping around the bud as he tugs harshly before encasing his mouth around the mound, your body arching off the bed as you cry out in pleasure. Wonwoo smirks against your breast, his hand kneading the other before he’s switching to enclose his mouth around the other. Gripping onto his broad shoulders, you’re rolling your hips against his clothed cock.

“Tell me,” you whimper, reaching a hand in between your bodies to pluck the button on his slacks. “Tell me about everything you’ve dreamt of.”

Wonwoo growls against your skin as you undo his slacks, his teeth gritting when he feels you slide your hand into his briefs and grab onto his growing cock. Grabbing onto your wrists, he’s pinning them above your head as he hovers over your body, a menacing look in his eyes.

“You want to know everything, sweetheart?” He asks, the term of endearment dripping from him like velvet and you mewl as you wriggle in his grasp. “You want me to tell you about how I've spent countless nights envisioning you underneath me, taking my cock every which way until there were tears streaming down your face?”

A shameless moan wracks from you as his hold on your wrists tightens, his eyes darkening in desire as he rolls his hips into yours.

“You want to know about all the thoughts I’ve had of you tied to my bedpost, red silk on your wrists and your body all mine to use?”

Wonwoo growls as his free hand slithers down your body, his fingers dipping to your cunt as he coats them in your arousal.

“Or about how I want to mark every single inch of you to show anyone who even dares to breathe in your direction that you’re mine.”

You mewl, your body writhing underneath him as you try to gain any kind of friction between you that you could. Smirking at your attempts, Wonwoo teasingly runs his digits along your folds, before he’s pushing two past them, not stopping until they’re buried to the knuckle. Your hips grind into his touch as his name falls from your lips, your hands trembling underneath his hold as he scissors the two digits against your velvety walls.

A coo falls from him as he relishes in the sight of your pleasure-filled expression, his lips twisting into a feline-like smirk as he slips a third finger inside, his thumb pressing against your clit as he flicks his wrist, the digits delving deeper inside of you as he thumbs against your sensitive bud.

“But the thought I’ve had that’s haunted me since day one,” the smirk never falters from his face as he peers down at you with desire. “Is the thought of you soaking every inch of my bed as I make you cum over and over again. And, while, this isn’t my bed – it’ll do for now.”

Your mouth opens in a soundless scream, your back arching off the bed as Wonwoo slips a fourth finger inside of you, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit before he’s pressing down onto the bundle of nerves. Pleasure shoots up your body as you claw at the one that was pinning yours to the bed, nails digging into the back of his hand as he curls the digits inside of you. They’re brushing against a spot that has your thighs clenching around his wrist, a sadistic grin dancing across your boss’s lips as he watches you writhe under his ministrations.

“Wonwoo, please,” you beg, sobbing with pleasure. “Please – oh fuck, let me cum, please.”

Your voice is broken, muddled into cries of desire as he palms your clit, and he’s leaning down to lick a stripe down the valley of your breasts. His eyes are completely locked on your pleasure ridden face as he litters marks along your body, teeth sinking into any visible part of your flesh he can reach.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coos, smirking deviously. “Give it to me.”

The heel of his palm is ruthless against your clit and your body is folding in half as your thighs clamped around his wrist, a shriek of his name reverberating off of the walls as his fingers curl against the spot that sends your body into overdrive. There’s a tightening in your lower body that sends a flash of heat through you, your eyes clamping shut as you cum – hard.

Wonwoo growls at the sight before him, his desire filled eyes taking in the sight of your arousal dripping down your thighs and soaking your sheets, and he’s speeding up his ministrations on your clit. His sharp gaze is locked on your pulsating cunt while your body reels into overstimulation, cries of pleasure ripping from your throat as your cunt leaks shamelessly. Your back is completely arched off of the bed, fluids leaking from your core, and you’re almost crying out of relief when Wonwoo slips his fingers out of you and loosens his grip on your hands – only for you to grip his hair when he latches his mouth onto your overstimulated cunt.

He’s licking with no abandon, lewdly slurping every last drop of your release as you sob with pleasure. His arms are tucked underneath your thighs as he pulls you until you’re completely sheathed against his mouth. The overstimulation has you writhing against him, and you’re mustering up enough strength to push his head away as you let your body come down from the intense release.

Wonwoo chuckles as he watches you sink into the sheets, cooing at you as exhaustion washes over your pleasure ridden body. Soft kisses are littered along the inners of your thighs, and Wonwoo peers up at you through his eyelashes as you tiredly lift your head from the bed.

“You’re doing so good,” he praised, softly nipping at the flesh of your thigh. “My good girl.”

Despite the intense orgasm you had just experienced, your cunt pulsates with desire at his praise. Biting the inside of your lip, you’re whining softly as you tug at his hair, ushering him up to you. Wonwoo lets a wild grin grace his lips as he allows you to pull him up, his lips slotting against yours lazily as he cages you between his body and the bed. Shaky hands make their way down the expanse of his chest and Wonwoo gasps against your lips when you tug his slacks down, a foot sliding between his legs so that you can push them off of him.

“Sweetheart,” he mumbles, trying to break away from your lips only to have you grab the back of his head to keep him still. “What are you doing?”

A mischievous glint is in your eyes as you shoot Wonwoo a filthy smirk, your hands clutching at his biceps before you’re mustering enough strength to roll the two of you over and pinning him to the bed. Your lips trail from his down to his jaw, teeth grazing over the sharp definition as your hips settle over his. Your hands are trapping his wrists and pressing them into the mattress as you trail your tongue over his neck. Wonwoo growls underneath you, his sharp eyes glaring at you through the thick rims of his glasses.

“I can’t be the only one having fun,” you coo, teasingly against his skin.

Wonwoo grits his teeth as yours graze over his skin, a hiss falling from him when he feels you suck a mark into the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“Don’t worry about me,” he bites out, wrists breaking free from your weakened hold. You ‘tsk’ at him, breaking away from his neck to frown.

“It’s my job to take care of you,” you affirm, shooting him a pointed look, and you can only bite back a smirk when Wonwoo’s lips curl into a snarl. “Let me take care of you, Mr. Jeon.”

A near pornographic groan escapes your boss’s lips at your words and you can’t help but to grin with satisfaction, your lips trailing from his neck to the expanse of his chest. You keen with satisfaction as Wonwoo’s fingers tangle in the tresses of your hair while you litter marks down his chest, peering up at him through your eyelashes as you reach the hem of his briefs. A salacious smirk paints your lips as you tug at them, discarding the garment without care as your tongue trails along the patch of hair leading to his bulging cock.

Your gaze never breaks from his as you situate yourself between his toned thighs, your hand wrapping around him as your lips part to lick at the beads of precum dripping from his tip. The grip he has on your hair tightens as you coat his head with it, a soft hum escaping you before you’re descending onto his cock. Wonwoo tenses, the sharp tug on your tresses making you whine against his cock, and he groans in ecstasy as your tongue lolls around him. He’s gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he struggles to keep his eyes open to peer down at you, completely mesmerized by the sight of you in between his legs. Inhaling through your nose, you suck in a breath of air before taking him in until his tip brushes the back of your throat, your hand reaching to cup his balls.

“(Y/N)...”

Wonwoo’s growl only encourages you further as you slide completely off of him, a smirk on your lips before you descend once more until he’s sheathed back into the warm cavern of your mouth. He’s tugging harshly at your tresses, hips pistoning off of the bed, as he shamelessly thrusts into your mouth. The grip you hold on his balls tightens gently, making expletives fall from the man as you swallow around him. The deep timbre of his voice combined with the harshness of his thrusts and tugs on your hair has your core dripping with anticipation, your body screaming for him to be inside of every part of you.

Wonwoo’s eyes are hooded, gaze full of desire, and he’s watching you bob your head on his cock, swallowing around his girth and knowing that if he let you keep going he wasn’t going to last much longer. So with your hair in his hands, he’s tugging you off of him with a snarl, his grip moving to latch onto your hips as he all but throws you on your back. Your eyes widened at the sudden change of position but then you’re keening in delight as the tip of his cock prods at your dripping cunt, your hands reaching up to claw at his broad back.

“I’m not cumming until I’ve felt your cunt around me first.”

The bite of his words sends another wave of heat flowing through you, your body completely lighting on fire as he guides himself to push past your folds, your lips parting in pleasure as your cunt swallows the thick girth of him. Your nails are clawing at his broad shoulders as Wonwoo’s teeth grit together, his nose brushing against yours as he slides in until he’s completely sheathed to the hilt.

“God, take me,” you moan, wantonly – shamelessly. “Make me yours.”

A cocky smirk dances across your boss’s lips as he draws his hips back, sharp eyes drinking in your naked form as he coos at the sight.

“You want to be mine, sweetheart?” He asks, teasingly. His lips ghost over yours as he moves to grip your wrists in his hands, effectively pinning them above your head. “You think you deserve it?”

A defiant look crosses your features as you peered up at him, a deep frown on your lips as you dig your nails into his skin in retaliation.

“I’m the only one who deserves it.”

Wonwoo’s gaze bores into yours, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk before his hips slam into yours, your back arching at the contact and your nails digging into his wrists as he all but hammers into you.

“Wonwoo – oh, fuck – !”

He’s mouthing hotly at your bouncing breasts before his teeth clamp around your nipple, tweaking the bud with his tongue as his hips pistoned into yours. Cries of his name fall from your lips as he thrusts relentlessly, sharp eyes peeking over the mounds of your breasts as your body stays arched in pleasure. He’s relishing in the sight, a smirk of satisfaction playing at his lips as he licks his way up your neck, lips hotly pressing into yours as his tongue delves into your mouth.

“You’re mine,” he growls against your lips, teeth biting onto the flesh as he tugs. “Mine.”

He briefly lets go of your wrists only so that he can grip your thigh with one hand, the other keeping your hands pinned above your head. He’s positioning your leg over his shoulder, his body descending onto yours as he rolls his hips, a groan escaping him as your cunt clenches deliciously around him. Your eyes are squeezed shut, completely lost in the intense pleasure of him as he grips onto your calf. Blunt nails dig into your skin as he speeds up once more, teeth gritting with pleasure as he sucks a mark into the sensitive spot on your neck. Your hips rise from the bed as you try to match his movements, a cry of his name falling from you when the head of his cock brushes against a spot that has you seeing stars.

“Right there!” You cry, clenching mercilessly around him. “God, Wonwoo, don’t stop!”

His grip on your leg loosens as he reaches down to press the pad of his thumb against your clit, a sinister smirk painted on his lips as he looks down at you.

“How’s it feel, sweetheart?” He asks, hips speeding up as he thumbs harshly at the sensitive bud. “Knowing that I’m all yours? That I’m only yours.”

You’re writhing beneath him, thrashing under his body in pleasure as his ministrations on your clit grow more erratic. Your vision is blurred with tears of ecstasy, Wonwoo’s name falling from your lips like a broken mantra, and you can only grip his hand as the heat in the pit of your stomach grows with every thrust.

“S- so good,” you stuttered out, completely lost in the feeling of him. “You’re mine, baby. Only mine.”

The term of endearment earns you a growl of approval, Wonwoo prying your lips apart with his mouth as his tongue licks along yours.

“Yeah?” His voice is deep, the timbre laced with husk as he licks into your mouth. “My cock is all yours, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

You keen at his words, a whine falling from your lips as your thighs quiver with pleasure.

“All mine,” you affirm, moaning. Wonwoo smirks against your mouth, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he thumbs at your clit with vigor.

“And this is all for me, isn’t it?” His question is spoken into your mouth, tongue sweeping over yours as his hips slam into yours.

“Only you, baby,” you whine, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “I’m yours.”

Wonwoo growls at that, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk as he lets go of your hands – only to grab you by the throat as he lifts you up until your chest is pressed flush against his. Your lips part in surprise at the change of position, one arm wrapped around his broad shoulders as the other fists through his locks, your cunt clenching around him as the new angle drives him to be completely sheathed inside of you as he sits back on his legs to hold you up.

“Damn right, you’re mine.”

Wonwoo’s words are muffled against your lips, the man looking down at you with a fierce glint as his thumb presses to your throat, effectively cutting off the air to your lungs and making your breath hitch. You clutch desperately at his tresses, your nails clawing at the skin of his back as he drills his cock inside of you, his free hand reaching back in between your bodies to rub your sensitive clit as he urges you to cum.

Your lips are parted in a silent cry, the stimulation between his thumb and his cock driving you closer and closer to the edge as your thighs clench around his hips, your back arching in a way that has your chest pressing into his, and the lack of air in your lungs has your head reeling in ecstasy as your high washes over you in a violent wave. You’re trembling beneath his ministrations, your cunt clenching deliciously around Wonwoo’s length as he coos at you, his thumb releasing off of your throat as you gasp.

“Mm, my good girl,” he praises, hands clutching your hips. “Where do you want me?”

The relentless drills of his hips against yours has you fighting to catch your breath as you struggle to answer him. Wonwoo’s rhythm grows erratic as he nears closer, your body arching into his movements as you clutch his shoulders in order to stay upright.

“My – my mouth,” you manage to breathe out, making Wonwoo smirk in anticipation.

You almost regret answering him when you feel him pulling out of you, the brisk air hitting your now empty cunt as Wonwoo settles you on your knees. His hand encases around your head as he pushes past your parted lips, groaning when his cock hits your tongue. You mewl around him, jaw slack and eyes locked on his as your tongue laps lazily at his leaking tip, swallowing every last drop of his release. His fingers tangle in your hair as he thrusts harshly into your mouth, the head of his cock brushing against the back of your throat as he cums. A hum of delight escapes you as you lewdly lap up the remnants of his release, your name falling from his lips as he tilts his head back in ecstasy.

His glasses slid off the bridge of his nose from the beads of sweat that had collected there and landed carelessly next to you on the bed, his sharp eyes softening into a look that was nothing short of adoration. His fingers release their grip on your tresses as his hands cup your face, his cock sliding out of your mouth as he lifts you to slot his lips against yours.

Humming against your mouth, Wonwoo’s thumbs graze your cheeks as he draws back to look into your eyes.

“You did so well for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your heart swells in your chest as you relish in his touch, your body completely spent from the intensity you had just experienced, and your eyes hood over in exhaustion as Wonwoo gingerly lays you back against the pillows. The warmth of his body envelops yours as he holds you close to him. A half-hearted smile paints itself on your lips as you reach up to trace the outline of his lips, a hint of sadness ghosting over your expression.

“You realize this means I can’t work for you anymore, right?”

Your soft murmur makes Wonwoo frown, and you almost whimper with hurt at the crestfallen look on his face.

“I know,” he answers quietly, offering you a small smile. “But that doesn’t mean I’m losing you.”

Wonwoo turns his head to meet your softening expression, his gaze boring into yours as he clutches you to him.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he continues, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I will take care of you, (Y/N). I will fix any damage I’ve done to your career, to your reputation – just as long as I get to keep you in my life… If you even want me after all of this.”

“How could I not want you?” You asked, quietly. “You are everything and more to me, Wonwoo. It just took me a couple years to realize it.”

Wonwoo chuckles at that before leaning down to place a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Even if I cost you your job?”

You purse your lips at that, pretending to think before looking up at him in amusement.

“I can think of some ways you could make it up to me,” you teased, making Wonwoo growl playfully. “Starting with a bath – hey!”

Wordlessly you’re being lifted in his arms, a shriek of surprise escaping you as Wonwoo tosses you over his shoulder, effortlessly carrying you into your adjoining bathroom.

“That can be arranged.”

[15 new messages]

From: Soonyoung Hey honey! Just a heads up… Wonwoo asked for your address. Don’t know why or what for but I gave it to him so expect a visit from him soon… ... But I’m gonna assume it’s for what I think it is… … so you’re welcome ;)

From: Joshua Soonyoung just told me Wonwoo is going to your house USE PROTECTION!!! I'M NOT READY TO BE AN UNCLE ;_;

From: Gyu Wonwoo is missing He left the office hours ago and hasn’t come back (Y/N)???? Hello???? This is a serious matter!!!! Where are you??!?!?!?? Are you seriously going to ignore me? Just because you called out sick doesn’t mean you can ignore ~me~ your friend!!!!

To: Gyu She’s busy

From: Gyu I – OH??? MY GOD???????? IT’S ABOUT FUCKING TIME YOU TWO!!!! Also – ew Don’t ever send me a picture like that ever again

Epilogue

“How are the reports looking, Mrs. Jeon?”

Lifting your head from the pile of papers lining the table, your gaze falls on your boss as he walks inside the conference room, a warm smile on his face. Offering him an encouraging one back, you gesture towards the pile in front of you as you lean back against your chair.

“Everything we’ve discussed is in order and ready to go for the presentation.”

Your boss grins, dimples indenting in his cheeks.

“I knew I could count on you.”

The conference room door opens behind your boss, your eyes darting to the tall stature who was now leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest as his sharp gaze falls on you.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

No matter how many times he calls you that or how much time passes by with you waking up to him every morning, your husband’s voice never fails to send an array of butterflies abuzz in your stomach. You can’t help but to let a salacious smile grace your lips as you bat your eyes at Wonwoo.

“Mr. Jeon,” you greet, flirtily. “Looking mighty handsome as always.”

Wonwoo clears his throat, his eyes narrowing into a playful glare as he gestures towards your boss.

“You’re lucky Seungcheol is here,” he tuts, shaking his head. “Otherwise I’d have you over this desk –”

“Hey, hey!” Seungcheol cuts off your husband, waving an accusing finger at him. “No flirting with my assistant during work hours!”

Wonwoo holds his hands up in defense as he backs up from Seungcheol, a wide grin on his lips as he bows apologetically.

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles. “I’ll behave.”

His words promise good behavior, but the smirk on his lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes say another as he sits across from you at the table, his heated gaze never leaving yours. From beside him, the younger man who had taken a seat next to him had a grin on his face as he peered over at his boss, eyes looking back and forth between you and Wonwoo.

“It’s good to see you, Mrs. Jeon,” he greets, making you beam at him.

“It’s good to see you too, Chan,” you grinned. “I hope my husband hasn’t been running you ragged like he had done with me.”

Chan laughs softly, eyes twinkling with humor as he shakes his head.

“Nothing I’m not already used to.”

It had been two years since you had left Wonwoo’s office and became Seungcheol’s assistant.

In hindsight, Joshua had been right about how casual and common it was for a CEO to have some kind of relation with their assistant.

Despite your acceptance of the notion that you could lose your job for pursuing a relationship that exceeded company policy, HR hadn’t batted an eye when you and Wonwoo had confronted them. They simply brushed it off, insisting that it wasn’t uncommon for such a thing to happen between two people who were constantly in such close quarters with one another. And though you would have loved to continue working with your boss - now husband - it was in your best judgment to resign as his assistant and to look elsewhere.

You loved the job, you really did. But continuing to work for the man who you slept next to every night didn’t sit right with you – especially when you knew how fussy other co-workers were when it came to workplace relationships. So rather than wanting to deal with whispers of gossip behind your back, you had taken Seungcheol’s offer in becoming his assistant instead – much to your husband’s dismay.

“If you so much as even look at her in any way that’s not professional or business-like, I’ll ruin your career faster than you can blink.”

Seungcheol gulps, nodding furiously to the taller man who was currently holding him by the collar.

“Noted.”

Seungcheol claps his hands together, breaking your intense eye contact with your husband as you reluctantly look towards your boss.

“Alright,” he beams, looking at the occupants at the table. “Let's get this ball rolling.”

You have always prided yourself on your stellar work ethic. You always paid attention during meetings, took notes when it was needed, and made mental notes of things that could be bookmarked and used for later projects. But that sufficient work ethic always flew right out the window when it involved the man sitting across from you.

You’re peering at your husband from the corner of your eye, biting back a laugh as you smirk slightly. Adjusting your posture, you’re leaning back against the chair while you stretch your legs out underneath the table, discarding one of your heels as you let your foot graze against Wonwoo’s calf. You press your lips together in a line to fight back a grin, stifling a giggle at the desire that was now pooling in the darkened eyes of your husband as he subtly reaches down to grab your leg.

“Stop it,” he mouths, making you feign a look of innocence.

“I’m not doing anything,” you mouthed back, making Wonwoo’s sharp eyes narrow into a glare.

He’s trapping your leg between his toned thighs, a move which he almost instantly regretted as you flexed your foot to press against the hardening bulge in his slacks, the CEO sucking in a breath as he all but clutches your ankle in retaliation. Blunt nails dig into your skin as he sends you a look of warning only to grit his teeth in annoyance as you peered away from him with a smile, keeping your focus on Seungcheol as he spoke.

Wonwoo’s heated gaze stays locked on you throughout the meeting, sharp eyes glaring from behind his thick rimmed glasses as he shifts uncomfortably for the next hour. And once Seungcheol had declared a brief break, he’s pushing your leg away from him and stomping out of the conference room. Chan’s eyes widened in alarm at his boss’s abrupt exit, the assistant beginning to stand before you’re holding your hand up, halting him from following after your husband.

“I’ve got him, Chan,” you reassured the man, smiling brightly. “You know he gets in those moods sometimes.”

Not waiting for a reply, you’re stifling a laugh as you walk out of the room, gaze scanning over the office before you’re heading towards the elevator. But before you can even make it halfway, you’re being pulled into a doorway, your back pressed up against a wall as Wonwoo glares down at you, his body towering over yours.

An amused glint is in your eyes as you grinned up at your husband.

“You really pulled me into a supply closet?” You asked, and Wonwoo reached to grab your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.

“You have a lot of nerve, sweetheart,” he hissed. “Getting me hard while I’m trying to focus on the meeting.”

You feign a look of innocence as you reach for his belt buckle, pulling him in until he’s pressed flush against you.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it,” you drawl, flirtily. Wonwoo smirks as he drops his hands from your face, opting to grip your thighs instead as he lifts you up and presses you back into the wall.

“Such a naughty girl,” he tsk’s, rolling his hips into yours as you tighten your legs around him.

“You love it,” you tease, nipping playfully at his bottom lip. Wonwoo’s gaze softens momentarily, his face lighting up as he adoringly stares at you.

“I love you,” he corrects.

Leaning forward he’s connecting your lips, kissing you slowly as he pours his emotions into it — into you. You hum against his mouth, your hands reaching up to run through his hair as you kiss him back. His tongue slips between the seam of your lips before meeting yours, his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs as he licks into your mouth.

“We have to get back,” you murmur, making Wonwoo groan, your husband squeezing your ass playfully as he rocks against you.

“I’ll come up with an excuse,” he mutters and you chuckle against his mouth before pulling away.

“This is an important meeting, baby,” you retort, making Wonwoo — big bad CEO, Jeon Wonwoo — form the most adorable pout as he looks down at you with an expression akin to a kicked puppy.

“But I only want to be around you.”

Giggling quietly, you reach up to cup his face as you kiss him softly, nuzzling your nose against his.

“If you can make it through the next two hours, I’ll fuck you in the back of the limo on the way home.”

Wonwoo laughs at your words, his head tilting back happily before he kisses you with a smile.

“First off, it’s going to be me fucking you,” he points out, letting you place your feet back down on the floor. “Which I was planning on doing after the meeting anyways.”

You grin at him, laughing happily as you readjust your clothing.

“Great minds think alike, I guess,” you jest, and Wonwoo mirrors your grin as he leads you out of the supply closet.

With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, he’s leaning down to press a kiss against your temple, lips brushing your ear.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, making your heart soar in happiness as you beamed in delight.

“I love you too, Wonwoo.”

[hangup119]

FEELS LIKE A THRILLER! ᯓᡣ𐭩

07. boy best friend activities written chapter | 1.1k words

“ANTON, YOU'RE AWAKE!” you cry out as soon as you look up from your phone, coming face-to-face with the aforementioned man who looks like he has seen better days. Anton currently sits above a patch of grass on Giselle's front yard, hands gripping his phone while Seunghan silently stands beside him, worriedly looking over him after the former had suddenly rolled off of his back while being carried.

“Guys… ugh,” Anton says, blinking slowly. “I’m so sleepy…” 

He’s about to say something else, but ends up slumping against Seunghan’s leg instead.

You sigh. Earlier, you had just been bickering with Seunghan over his inane obsession with Pokemon Go, like something possessed you to chastise your longtime crush on his interests when it was the first time in years that you’ve properly interacted with each other. But even if you kept squawking about the fact that he cut you off over a pixelated animal appearing on his phone screen like the major nerd he is, Seunghan’s protests were humorous in nature, taking no offense at all, and even asking if you wanted to catch it instead. 

(“Why the hell should I!?” you ask, looking at him incredulously. “Do I look like I give a rat’s ass about Pokemon—“ 

Seunghan hands you his phone, where the screen shows Snorlax dumbly looking out into the open with the pokeball right in front. “C’mon,” he drags, “don’t worry, I won’t blame you if you waste my balls. Just catch him.” 

He’s grinning, and he’s so close, and you… realize you can’t really say no to such a face.

… Stupid fucking Pokemon Go.

“Don’t say it like that,” you groan, moving closer to touch his screen. Not knowing much of the mechanics, you just drag the pokeball and unceremoniously throw it at the Snorlax. “Fine, I’ll catch your stupid Snorlax.”

Seunghan just laughs.)

And while the two of you kept squabbling over the game, what you failed to notice was the incoming figure staggering towards you from the front door, only to end up falling face-first on the grass just a few meters away. It was only when Seunghan stopped responding to you that you finally noticed the unfortunate Anton on the ground, immediately screeching out his name in the dead of the night.

And Anton, who obviously reeked of cheap alcohol, just murmured a simple “goodnight” before passing out.

And now you’re here. 

“What do we do now?” Seunghan dumbly asks, awkwardly looking down at the still-inebriated Anton clinging to his leg. “He won’t budge. I feel like I’m dealing with a little kid. A six-foot kid.” 

You shrug, crouching down in front of your friend. For someone so tall, he looks surprisingly small right now. “Hello, Earth to Anton?” you wave your hand in front of his face. “You okay, buddy? You smell like shit, by the way; what’d they give you back there?” 

You look towards Giselle’s house, noting how the door still hasn’t opened yet with Eunseok stalking towards you like Anton’s personal guardian angel. He did say Anton was his responsibility for the night as he’s the one driving him home, but you seriously can’t deny the fact that you just wished Eunseok would hurry it up so you can continue having your precious alone time with Seunghan. 

You look back at the aforementioned man and sighed. Stupid Anton, why’d he have to ruin your moment with Seunghan? He’s supposed to be your wingman now that the tides have changed! 

At least… that was supposed to be the case, but didn’t Seunghan just recently go on a date with a girl from your class? One personally recommended by Eunseok himself? 

God, Eunseok is so dead to you, you thought darkly. You don’t even really know the guy!

Anton blinks wearily, before letting go of Seunghan’s poor leg. He yawns, rubbing his eye with one hand, looking back at you, then at Seunghan, then back to you. You look at him curiously, wondering what’s working inside that mysterious brain of his, before he says:

“You guys are so cute.” 

There’s a pause after that, and then…

“Huh—” you don’t even get to finish your sentence before he’s flopping down towards you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “Anton, what the hell!” you screech, feeling heat rise to your face not because of his close proximity but mainly because of his silly little commentary. 

You turn to face the bemused Seunghan standing above the two of you, sputtering out: “Help me…!?”

But the fucker just snaps a picture instead, teasingly saying, “No, you guys are cute.”

You feel your whole world shatter into pieces.

“Oh, nah, nah,” Anton starts, rising from his position, “we’re just friends—”

“Eww!” you cut him off, shoving him away. 

He lands against Seunghan again, wordlessly staring back at you with his mouth open. Seunghan blinks at your sudden outburst.

“No, absolutely not,” you spiral into a rant, “he is so ugly, this filthy creature! Why is he even born? Why does he walk this Earth with me? I would never look at him with my own two eyes heissouglyohmygosh.” 

Eunseok arrives at the scene after you finish with your little breakdown, jogging towards you and stopping just a few centimeters away. “I finally got away from Sungchan! Hey, is—” 

He stops, taking note of the tense silence between the three of you. “Uh… are you guys okay?”

Anton starts sobbing loudly, still drunk off his ass. “Y/N hates me,” he wails at his grown age, “she won’t buy me Gundam anymore.” 

Seunghan pats his back comfortingly, and Anton clings to him until they’re embracing each other. “She probably doesn’t mean that, bro. It’s okay, Anton,” he says, though he doesn’t look entirely convinced of himself either. 

You cringe. You messed up.

Eunseok turns to you. “What’d you do to him?” he asks, exasperated and unsure if he really wants to know. 

You step closer towards Anton and Seunghan, carefully saying, “Forgive me, Anton… I didn’t mean all of that. You’re not ugly. You—You’re cool, alright? … C’mon, dude, we’ve known each other since eighth-grade and I know for a fact that you’ve had a massive glow up since then. I’m sorry, okay? Please stop crying now; I can’t afford Gundam but I can pay half the price for one. Also, why are you drunk in the first place? You’re not even twenty-one yet...”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Eunseok huffs, crossing his arms. “It was probably Wonbin.” 

Seunghan expectantly looks at Anton, gently breaking apart their hug. Anton remains silent, but at least he finally paused his obnoxious crying. 

You apprehensively meet his gaze. “So…?” you ask meekly. “What do you say, ‘ton?” 

Anton takes a deep breathe, before—

“… I’ll forgive you if you and Seunghan go on a date,” he states firmly.

You nearly fall on your back. 

“What?” You, Eunseok, and Seunghan practically scream at him. 

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SUMMARY. pining after hong seunghan has always felt like an unachievable reality; however, just a few months into your first year of college, it seems that the gods have finally listened to your prayers when news breaks out that your long-time crush is single once again.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. i hope u guys get that tiktok reference orz ... prolly not

TAGLIST. @shguacamole @miyawwn @starwonb1n @hwadejectedyoung @revehosh @alwayswook @snowyseungs @rksbae @emohoon @nujeskz @ilovejungwonandhaechan @meowbini @nakam00t