#ugh this sucks... great vacation for me

[coffee-keith]

.

[daffythefox]

I don't want. to live

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Megamind Au @fanofstuff02

I'll post the full thing on Ao3 when it's done. For now you get the beginning of their vacation!!

Also I'm not including everything, that would take forever lol

Contact Warning: Swearing, Sexual Themes, and Kidnapping.

It was Thursday, like clock work the supervillain The Devil had kidnapped local news reporter Adam Kadmon to hold hostage for his evil plans.

Where he would fight the hero, The General so he could take over the city.

Only problem was said hero was late. Six hours late.

Lucifer paced his lab, this was ridiculous and rude. "Where the fuck is he?"

Adam, tied to his chair blew his bangs out of his face. "What's the date today?" He asked, summer time was prime time for vacations and being friends with the city hero he knew he had one planned.

Lucifer stopped to look at him with an inquisitive stare. "The 29th why?"

Adam sucked air between his teeth, shit of all the times. "Oh yeah, he's not coming he's on vacation."

Lucifer blinked. "What why?"

"Stress? He puts up with your ass all the time man deserves a break. Honestly I should take one too." Adam sassed.

"So he's not coming?" Well this was a fucking waste of a Thursday.

"Probably not."

Lucifer smirked, an idea forming in his mind. Maybe not a waste after all. "So that means I get to keep you til he gets back."

Adam felt dread fill him. "No, it means I get to go the fuck home."

Lucifer leaned in closer to Adam's face. "Sorry, you’ll have to wait for your dumb boyfriend to return for that."

Adam glared, you make one off handed comment about someone being your boyfriend, which The General was not he only said that to piss The Devil off, and his Thursdays are forever ruined. "I should’ve went with him."

Lucifer raised a brow, ignoring the jealousy bubbling inside him. "Would he even take you?"

"Oh he would." Adam figited in his seat, it was well past uncomfotable at this point. "This is bullshit you can't just keep me here."

Lucifer merely shrugged. "Sure I can, that's the point of being kidnapped."

Adam tilted his head back beyond annoyed. "Ugh..... This is highly unfair. You realize you have to feed me right?"

"Lucky for you Charlie is a great cook."

Adam groaned. "Oh lucky me."

Charlie skipped over happily her hands clasped together. "I can make ribs for you Adam! And-"

"How am I going to sleep?" Adam interrupted, it just occurred to him that he had no where to sleep.

Lucifer gave him a small smirk. "In the chair?"

Adam balked at the idea, he's already been here for hours! Now he had to fucking sleep there? "The chair?! Are you fucking serious?"

"Yup! You're a prisoner, you're not on vacation." Lucifer walked away, feeling victorious.

Adam mumbled under his breath. "Asshole."

-

Two in the morning rolled around, Lucifer got up to use the bathroom when the light from the lab caught his attention. He sighed. "I should probably check on him."

Adam fell asleep in the chair, his head to the side and was even drooling slightly.

He looks so cute. Lucifer thought, he couldn't deny the attraction he had for the news reporter. Lucifer sighed. "Fucker."

He scooped Adam up and carried him to his room. They didn't have a guest room because, well, they never have guests.

He tucked Adam into his bed, handcuffed him to the bed just in case and went to the other side of the bed to sleep.

Adam woke up the next morning, he groaned as the lights hit his eyes. He’s more awake once he realizes he’s in an actual bed instead of the chair. And the bed he’s sleeping also contains that short fucker.

What the- Am I..... No I'm handcuffed fuck!! Both hands no less ...... He doesn't look that bad when he's asleep. Less annoying, Adam thought as he looked at The Devil's sleeping form.

Adam groaned again and tried his best to roll over to keep the light out. It didn't work it hurt his wrists too much so he turned back.

Lucifer mumbled still half asleep. "Quit moving."

Adam actually jumped cause he thought he was asleep.

Lucifer opened an eye to see Adam with his normally well groomed hair messed up, dried drool on his chin and face, eyes still sleepy. Even just waking up he's fucking cute, that's not fair! "Go back to sleep."

And for once Adam did as he was told, too tired to fight it. Plus the bed was comfy.

Lucifer hugged him when the reporter drifted off to sleep. He didn’t have anything to say when he woke up again.

Luckily for The Devil he woke up before Adam. And he straight up and out of bed and went to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Adam woke up alone. He tried to break free but those chains were too strong so he gave up. He thought of calling out for the two villains but decided not to. They would probably ignore him anyway.

Adam was waiting in the bed he didn't know how long, let his mind wonder. God why did The General had to go on a week vacation. Being stuck with these freaks for hours is bad enough.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.

Adam blinked. "Uh.. Come in?"

Charlie stepped in she was still in her pajamas, hair messed up from sleep she smiled sleepily at Adam. "Good morning Adam!" She greeted cheerily, god even first thing in the morning she's upbeat.

"Eh. Good morning."

"Dad says breakfast is ready and I have to bring you to the table." Charlie came over and uncuffed Adam from the bed only to cuff him to a chair.

"Oh goodie." Adam deadpanned, Charlie carried him to the table, and cuffed him to the table making it easier for him to eat. "Pancakes?"

"Yes! I made them myself." Lucifer boasted as he handed his daughter her plate.

Adam took a bite and was surprised by how delicious they were. "These are..... Surprisingly good."

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. "Why surprising?"

"You always make her cook i just thought you couldn't." Unlike me, Adam thought, he couldn't cook very well he mostly ordered takeout. "Also, what the hell am I supposed to do all day? I still have to wo-"

Lucifer cut him off. "No you don’t. You’re free for two weeks."

Adam raised a brow. "And how exactly you know that?"

Lucifer lifts an eyebrow of his own, answer enough.

Adam slumped. "Fine. I am."

Charlie jumped up all excited. "Oh Adam we're going to have so much fun!"

Adam rolled his eyes. "Oh I'm so sure."

Lucifer shook his head as he drank his coffee. *First thing in the morning and you're already sassy. Come along."

They handcuffed him to a chair with wheels so they didn't have to keep carrying him. Charlie turned on the tv to some random reality show.

Adam stared blankly. "This is boring."

"I can kind of agree." Charlie agreed from her spot on the floor.

"I mean, let me tell you what is going to happen. She’s going to learn her husband cheated on her and she will try to kill him and the woman but instead she’ll die herself and find some assassin's to kill the other woman in Hell, but she’ll end up in Hell too and then they’ll start to fuck eachother." Adam ranted and the room fell silent.

Lucifer turned to look at him. "The hell are you watching in your free time?"

Adam looked at him, didn't he know good tv when it was on? "What? Hell Bound is a good yet predictable show."

"Sounds stupid."

"Well it has 19 seasons so someone loves it."

Charlie picked up the remote and changed the channel. "What about the news?"

Adam's fellow reporter friend Peter was on in Adams place, they were declaring Adam a missing person and to call if they had any information on where he might be. "Right here Peter." Adam said in a monotone voice.

Charlie looked at him. "I don't think he can hear you."

Adam sighed, dear lord. "Yeah I know."

He clicked his tongue. A small smirk came to his face when he remembered something from the last time he was kidnapped. "Hey Charlie?"

"Yes?"

"Do you still have the monopoly?" Adam asked in a cheeky tone, he could kick anyones ass at that game.

Lucifer felt his eye twitch, he knew where this was going. "No."

"Are you sure, dad? I thought-"

"It got ruined."

Adam snorted. "Wow, you had a fit and destroyed monopoly. What about Janga?"

Charlie lit up at the prospect of a game day. "I'll go look!" She ran off down the hall.

Lucifer glared at Adam. "I did not throw a fit." 

"Oh like how you're on the verge now? Sure....... Baby."

The supervillain could feel his blood boiling but wouldn't give Adam the satisfaction. "LOOK-" He took a deep calming breath. "Well, jokes on you, I’m an expert on Jenga."

Adam didn't look that amused or believed him one bit, this guy lost at everything he did in life and games were no exception. "Whatever you say."

Charlie came running back in with the Janga game grinning from ear to ear. "Here!"

-

Adam fumed with rage, how the fuck was he losing!?. "You can’t take that one!" He seethed.

Lucifer smirked, not the least bit sorry. "I can! What, ‘ruined your plans’?" He was a master at Janga never to be beaten.

"No!" It actually did and Adam was pissed about it, he knew he likely had two moves left before it fell over and he lost.

Lucifer just looked at him smuggly, pretending to pick his nails. "So take one."

"Give me a fucking minute!" Adam pulled a piece, the tower wiggled but did not fall over. "Phew." In his next turn however, Adam bumped the table and it fell over. "NO!"

Lucifer jumped for joy at his easy win.  "HAHA! VICTORY IS MINE!"

Adam pouted and looked away. "Whatever, Janga is stupid. And that's the only time you'll ever say that anyway."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "Oh ho is that so?"

"Yes it is!"

Lucifer plucked off some imaginary lint from his vest. "Loser cleans the mess."

Adam scowled as he started cleaning up, being kidnapped and forced to do manual labor, what could be fucking worse? "I fucking hate you."

Lucifer ignored him, he said that so much it was starting to lose it's bite. "You know we do have two other games. If you two wanna play."

Charlie smiled and rasied her hand. "I do!"

Adam shrugged, not like he had much of a choice. "Sure, what else is entertaining here."

The Devil cracked his knuckles. "Twister and Uno."

Adam thought for a moment. "Let’s-"

"And since I’m the winner, I get to choose. Twister." 

"Fucker." At least they had to uncuff him for that one. Though, after a while and the position Adam got himself he should have stayed in his chair.

Charlie was calling out the colors and moves. "Right foot green Adam!"

Adam sighed. "Fine." He moved his leg, it was now under Lucifer, Adam tried to ignore the suggestive pose this put him in but it was very difficult.

"Right hand yellow dad!"

Lucifer placed his hand by Adams head, he smiled as he looked down at the news reporter that was now under him. "Hello.~"

"Damn you."

This.... Shouldn't be this hot. Lucifer thought, not that he cared. 

Adams mind was racing. Why. Just why. Oh dear god he's between my legs!

"Left hand red Adam!"

Lucifer’s hand was on the nearest red and there was no way he was placing his hand on the villains. "Uhh…" Adam tried to place it on a different red, but realized he can’t and just put it as far as possible. Unfortunately he lost balance because of this and fell down.

Lucifer laughed at his loss."HAHA! HOW DOES LOSING TWICE FEEL?!"

Charlie wasn't amused. "Can we play Uno now?"

"Sure! Adam?"

Adam glared up at him. "You’re going down on that one."

-

Adam placed his winning card down. "SUCK IT MOTHERFUCKER! HAHA!"

Lucifer frowned. "Can you stand one minute without swearing? Geez."

"No, it's called a sentence enhancer. Besides, you want to hear me not swear? Watch me on the fucking news."

Charlie set her cards down, this was the last of the games they had in the evil lair. "We're running out of games to play. Oh we could just talk!"

Adam wrinkled his nose. "Why, we have nothing in common?"

Charlie smiled politely. "It passes the time! So, Adam how's your day going?"

Adam looked at her, was she serious? "....... You're joking right?"

Lucifer leaned back in his chair. "Go on answer the question."

With as much sarcasm as Adam could muster. "Oh I'm just having the time of my fucking life."

Lucifer glared, eyes flashing. "Can you stop that for a minute?" Why did he have to swear so much?

Adam sighed. "Fine, honesty? I didn’t hate this day but I didn’t like it either. My favorite moments were when you lose."

"Which was once!"

"One good moment."

"See! Fun! Oh I'll go make lunch!" Charlie got up and left to make the trio lunch.

Adam looked at the supervillain. "Are you seriously gonna keep me here for two weeks?" He didn't want to spend two weeks in this shit hole.

"Yeah why not. Have your own vacation." That hero asshole went on vacation why couldn't they?

"Umm, no. My idea of a vacation involves a sandy beach, not a smelly lab." All Adam could smell was the scent of oil and metal. It almost sickened him.

Lucifer scoffed at him. "It's not smelly!" He sniffed the air and winced, he pulled out the air freshener and sprayed some. "Maybe a little."

"Glad you agree."

"Anyway. Who said I can’t take you to a beach?" Lucifer tried to will away the picture in his mind of Adam in a swim suit the moment he said that.

"Oh and society will be perfectly fine with this? Bitch please." Adam wasn't in the mood to be toyed with.

Lucifer pulled out his phone and started looking for places to go where they could have a lot of privacy. "We just have to find somewhere calm!"

"Oh I would be so fucking glad to go with the two of you then."

"So sassy. Oh look I found one!" This place was perfect, two cabins, one for Charlie and one for them. Adam was still their captive so he couldn't be trusted to have his own and well, Lucifer kinda wanted to share with him so they would have to spend more time together.

Adam was surprised, they were really going on vacation? "Wait really?"

Lucifer stood up. "Yup! Charlie pack your things we're going to the beach in Italy!"

Charlie squealed with joy. "Oh goodie!"

Adam couldn't believe what was happening, he was getting a free trip to Italy from the guy who kidnapped him. Should I be.. Happy about this or.. God who am I kidding. I-

"Are you okay?" Lucifers voice broke him from his thoughts.

Adam blinked owlishly at him. "Huh? Oh yeah."

Lucifer stood there a little awkwardly shifting on his feet, hands in the pockets of his dress pants. "Do I uh.. Need to get your stuff or anything?"

"I- What?"

"You know… If you want… I can."

Was he serious..? Whatever.

Adam shifted in his seat absentmindedly, this would be interesting. "Well… I do want my guitar and it’s stuff, my DVD’s and other stuff. Should I make a-"

"No no, we can go together and you can pick them." Lucifer uncuffed him and took Adam by the arm leading him down to where the car was.

Adam didn't fight him, there was no point. "Are you-"

Lucifer placed him in the front seat. "I’ll be there so it’s fine."

-

"So this is where you live?" Lucifer had been in Adams place before, not that the brunette knew that little bit of information, so he played dumb.

Adam grabbed a travel bag. "Yup. It's all I need being just me." Okay clothes, tooth brush, I don't know if I'll go swimming but I'll bring swim trunks, and my guitar. He played a message on his answering machine, it was his sister Emily: Hi Addie it's me! Please call me when you get this message so I know you're okay I'm worried about you.

Lucifer laughed. "Pffft, Addie?" How cute.

Adam's face was warm, damn it Em! "Shut up! Only my sister can call me that."

"Okay time to go. Addie.~"

"Fuck off."

-

They loaded up their air craft and when they got there after hours of flying, it was a private beach house with white sand and a view of the ocean. There are only one bed for Adam and Lucifer to share.

Lucifer placed a ankle monitor on Adam so he didn't get any ideas about leaving. Not that he would, he was in a foreign country illegally where he didn't know the language, and had no other way home. "Why is there one be-!" Adam exclaimed, bad enough he was fucking kidnapped now he had to spend two weeks sharing a bed with the guy that did it!?

"That was all they had." Lucifer lied, he totally could have gotten a two bedroom cabin.

"But-!"

Lucifer, smirked knowing he won this. "Go sleep on the couch if you want. I don’t care."

Adam looked away, he didn't want to sleep on the fucking couch when there was a perfectly good bed right there. "Oh fuck me."

I mean if you want me to. Lucifers mind supplied, trying and failing to not check out Adam as he had his back turned.

Adam crawled into the bed, too tired to argue with this asshole. "Just stay to your side of the bed."

Lucifer got in on the other side. "If that's what Addie wants.~"

Adam stuffed his face in the pillow. "Ugh, will you stop?" He said voice muffled.

"Nope! Say, why does she call you Addie?" He was having way too much fun with that nickname.

Adam lifted his head and glared. "If I tell you will you stop?"

"Maybe."

Adam sighed. "........ She calls me Addie because she couldn't say Adam when she was little. And she still does to this day." God why did that feel so embarrassing?

Lucifer blinked, wasn't his sister a full grown woman now? "…She can’t say Ada-?"

"Of course she can dumbass. She just kept the nickname." Adam growled.

"Oh right. Sorry." Well now Lucifer just felt dumb.

Adam turned over. "Whatever. Good night."

Lucifer smiled at him. "Good niight~" When he was sure that Adam was asleep, his breathing even and a small snore leaving his mouth, Lucifer hugged Adam from behind and kissed his head.

Lucifer woke up first, the sun shining in. Some time in the night they found their way to each other and were holding onto one another, Adams head tucked under Lucifer's chin.

Adam sighed softly and snuggled closer to Lucifer's chest. The smell of his shampoo faintly could still be smelt. Vanilla and cinnamon.

Lucifer was very aware of the situation in his pants. This is a bad time to have morning wood. I need to get to the shower, either to take a cold one or......

He slowly got free and replaced himself with a pillow. Adam held it tight smiling in his sleep.

Cute....

Lucifer takes a shower, not a cold one. He got himself off to the thought of the hot brunette in his bed, how good it would feel to have him under him, make him needy with pleasure that only Lucifer could provide. "Ahh, fuck.~" Adam drove him crazy in more ways than one and Lucifer was going to make it his mission to have him one day.

When he came back into the room, Adam was still asleep holding the pillow. Smiling softly Adam mumbled something in his sleep and kissed the pillow.

THAT COULD HAVE BEEN ME-?!....... Wow was he really jealous of a pillow?

Lucifer tried to clear his mind and went to make them a small breakfast.

Adam woke up some time later, still sleepy, hair messy, came to the kitchen yawning. "Good Morning…"

Lucifer turned to him with a bright smile. "Morning sleepy head. Have a good sleep?"

Adam yawned again, stretching as he sat down at the table. "Yeeeah. You?"

"Oh yeah, bacon and eggs?"

"Sure." Adam rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Lucifer placed down their food. "Have any dreams?" He asked.

Adam's face turned red. Oh boy.  "I-I-I don't remember." 

Don't remember or won't tell?

[ellieellieoxenfree]

furious thoughts on this pile of shit show while i suffer through the last three episodes:

why the fuck is everyone's response to any kind of Situation to record their friends? all of you are fucking psychopaths

cheum is such a horrible little cunt and why anyone gives her the time of day is beyond me. i thought mew was the character i wanted most to drop-kick into a volcano, but cheum might actually beat him in the holier-than-thou judgmental hypocritical insufferable why-does-anyone-put-up-with-your-complete-lack-of-redeeming-values rankings

ray putting conditions on sand to establish a relationship with his dad before he'll go to rehab was fucking gross, regardless of how he spun it. and then the little 'sike i just wanted to see if you'd do it' is a masterclass of selfish, manipulative behavior that's an entire naval fleet of red flags. the chemistry is undeniable but this relationship is a fucking dumpster fire. every time sand caves to one of ray's horrible bullshit demands, i lose any shreds of respect i had for him.

boeing and mew fighting over top reminds me of the story i once read about two brothers fighting over an unwrapped tootsie roll they found on the floor, only for one of them to overpower the other, pop it in his mouth, and find out it was a cat turd

papang is so good and i love him so much and buddy, you deserve better than being nick's half-hearted flirtation due to the fact that nick sucks a fat one

if one more person sucks mew's dick about what a Great Person he is i am going to rip my eyeballs out

oh my fucking god my fucking god i hate this show so much why is mew the uea of this show where everyone wants a chance at that void of personality and charisma that is the mew bussy. why are you all such gross manipulative sanctimonious whores who can't keep it in their pants and still act like you're morally justified. fuck's sake. the only person who's actually honest with themselves is boston and all you do is shit on him but at least he doesn't prance around on his high horse and sneer on the Commoners who keep tripping and having their dick fall into each other. at this point, his worst sin is his absolutely ratchet-ass taste in other people, both platonically and sexually, whereas the rest of you wouldn't know loyalty if it bit you on the ass and still sneer at boston being 'filthy.' physician, euthanize thyself.

ray throwing out his multiple bottles of liquor in a tiny trashcan without even bothering to empty them.............that's my new go-to imagery for performative tumblr activism

'oh boo hoo my dad hired you to help me go to rehab' eat shit, ray, fuck's sake. oh boo hoo i got lied to. news flash, fucko, you're a lying manipulative sack of crap so what's good for the goose is good for the gander. you've been taking advantage of sand this entire show, ignoring his boundaries, making a fucking nuisance of yourself by refusing to leave him alone, stalking his vacation, interfering in his hookups, calling him a whore, trying to force an unwanted family reconciliation, and on and on. the 'oh well you don't want me to get better because you still sell liquor' oh my god dude eat shit eat shit eat shit.

'my friends dumped me.' 'serves you right.' nick you are also a shit friend so shut the fuck up

ugh yet another unearned reconciliation EXTREMELY DISMISSIVE J/O MOTION. i am aggressively uninterested in boston/nick. this shit sucks to an unreal degree.

why will god not end my suffering and just wrap it up on topmew. either shit or get off the pot, both of you. there is not even remotely enough storyline to stretch this shit out to twelve episodes and this will-they-won't-they dithering has all the appeal of watching two thirteen-year-olds discussing which pair of earrings to buy at claire's for an hour

'we should just separate' YOU TWO AREN'T TOGETHER YOU DUMB BITCH

does this show want the world record for unearned reconciliations? yo and plug's 'oops i guess we're back together' had potentially even less screentime than the bullshit april/cheum reconciliation (i'll die mad about it, i have no idea why the two of them are together but that's the true only friends method of relationship writing), and now ray and sand are back on their pathetic codependent bullshit. truly a tragedy of epic proportions. these two belong in separate hemispheres until they both work out their mountains of individual issues.

if they're drinking beers in the bathtub when ray's supposed to be in rehab i'm just going to end my life

'i don't want you to drink too much' HE'S AN ADDICT YOU FESTERING FUCKHUSK DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW ADDICTION WORKS THERE IS NO 'OH THE ADDICT WILL JUST CUT DOWN ON THEIR DRINKING' HE NEEDS TO BE SOBER. S O B E R. AS IN, NOT DRINKING. holy shit this show is making me so angry bed friend is almost looking like a Fun Time.

boeing is back and mew is with him

in case i haven't said it in the past five minutes, i fucking loathe nick so much

hey what the fuck. what the fuck. 'let's get revenge on atom by tricking him into a quick fuck and then recording him secretly' what the FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE JESUS CHRIST WERE YOU ALL RAISED BY WOLVES

wolves are probably more civilized than this pack of assholes i apologize to the wild wolf population

good to see that ray has learned fuck-all and continues to drag sand along to clean up his messes when to me it feels like the entire point of court-mandated community service is that you do it yourself without running to your bangmaid to help you

every time top shows up i get one step closer to necking myself

'why don't you trust me' i am going to rip this man's throat out with my teeth

OH MY GOD YOU TWO SHIT OR GET OFF THE POT MY GOD IN HEAVEN YOU ARE SO FUCKING INSUFFERABLE

why is everyone so fucking concerned with getting top and mew back together. i hate mew's moms. 'well, if you really love him...' the dude is a known cheater and pump-and-dumper. what is this show's obsession with everyone's magic dicks that they just can't get over. they keep doing the same thing with boston. dick so good it makes a man crazy. maybe if y'all stopped fucking like you were the habsburg dynasty, you could be less tiresome. as near as i can tell, there's fewer than ten gays in the entirety of bangkok and you've banged all those cocks. please. jesus. you're not the british royal family. let go of the inbreeding.

incredible that it's been eleven episodes and i could not tell you a single concrete reason top gives the slightest shit about mew. if you held a gun to my head and told me to give just one reason, you'd have to kill me in one shot.

'you know i will not be able to forget about this easily' dude it's been your raison d'être since it happened, it's basically your entire personality along with being a smug sanctimonious cockbag

'i don't want to force you' okay not that this show has had basically every character bulldozing each other's boundaries or anything but w/e do you boo i guess

boeing is so fucking DULL i know they think they're spicing things up with his chaos agent nonsense but i am bored i am fatigued i am over it please just fuck off dude

OH MY GOD CAN WE PLEASE JUST HAVE ANOTHER NOTE THAT ISN'T CHEATING OR ATTEMPTED CHEATING. GO FIND A NEW DICK TO SWING ON. JESUS CHRIST. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. HOW IS THIS TWELVE EPISODES. HOW DID ANYONE ENJOY THIS RANCID STEAMING PILE OF GARBAGE. I AM ACTIVELY JUDGING ANYONE WHO ENJOYED THIS IN ITS ENTIRETY. GET HELP.

good to see ray is still drinking, so that rehab plotline was yet another big fat nothing

having to suffer through one last episode of this is making bed friend look even more appealing and bed friend had me actively contemplating suicide

oh jesus god 71 minutes why in the name of all that's holy

i hate ray

that's it. that's the comment. i am not even going to list out the reasons or context. fuck ray. dude sucks.

boeing, shut the fuck up

'do you still love him? you should kiss him' sand if you had the spine god gave cooked spaghetti you'd dump ray and then dump his body in the ocean but you won't because you're a fucking puss with no self-respect so

if this is some raggedy-ass attempt at a threesome i will end it i swear to god i will

god ray sucks so fucking much i was told sandray was the best relationship in this show and i'm not sorry but some of y'all need to take a mike's hard look at yourselves and get taste

like, truly, ray is such a rancid character. 'let me force you into making out with your ex so i can play personal pity party' go fuck yourself, dude. go shove a stick in the spokes of your bike wheel somewhere else because i don't feel like listening to you bitch and cry for another 65 minutes

'i don't like him being around you like this' OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH. STOP ENGINEERING YOUR OWN PROBLEMS AND THEN PLAYING THE VICTIM

of course this dumb bitch cheum is like 'i think moving in together is a great idea' i hope she gets hit by a car

ray continues digging to the center of the earth. i am tired.

'i can put your name back on our project' i hope cheum actually gets hit by a train

'what i want is a chance to be your friend again' boston could be the only character i give a shit about in this show but he pulls shit like this and i'm just like, why, dude? why are you constantly bending over backwards for people (including nick) who treat you like garbage?

i stand by nick being an asshole. i don't care. the show is like 'oh he stands by me he's supportive blah blah' no. what the show tells me i should think is not what it tells me in its writing. nick is just as much of a prick as everyone else and just because he has a weird codependence with boston's magic dick game does not make them a functional relationship or one i remotely root for. i am excited for boston to go to new york so he doesn't have to be in this pit of vipers and he can actually learn how to be a human being who is treated with more respect than what he gets now.

i keep harping on this same point, but it is insane to me that a show that is entirely built on people's messy relationships has given me not one iota of evidence to prove any of these people should be getting nasty with each other. it's not even 'oh they're bad for each other' (which they are), it's that the writing is doing nothing to establish the bonds and hoping a handful of talented actors (this is not everyone in the cast, fwiw) will be able to provide enough chemistry to cover for paper-thin narrative work.

and as soon as i unpause, i get a 'sweet' boston/nick scene, which might land if i gave the slightest shit about them as people. the cutesy scenes are actively insulting to my intelligence, like i've forgotten the entire show has been built on people betraying, cheating on, lying to, and being heinous to each other. this just feels like all of these dumbfucks have short-term memory loss and can't remember how wretched they were to each other five minutes ago.

nick: i could do animation in new york. i could work at pixar.

the amount of white-hot rage i feel at this 'oh the kids hate ray and they need sand' scene is incalculable. the gears of this raggedy writing are straining.

oh my god. are they seriously going to have a relationship heart-to-heart while ray is doing community service? fuck this show.

what is ray's fucking deal about boeing? this is honestly pathological and creepy. i think they're trying to make a point about ray's insecurity due to his deep-seated trauma but it's insecurity due to deep-seated trauma as interpreted by an alien who has never had exposure to human beings before.

creak creak creak go the gears of this idiotic manufactured boeing drama. this thing is so underwritten and badly paced and poorly planned i'm shocked it wasn't a lucasfilm production. this is dickensian levels of padding. was this dictated to a five-year-old who kept going 'and then what?' to avoid going to sleep?

can't type anymore, boston just ran into boeing at the club and my eyes rolled out of my head and ended up across the room

oh for FUCK'S SAKE this is so FUCKING STUPID

cheum seeing boston arrive and being like 'well now boston can prostrate himself for absolution in front of all of us' go fuck yourself you cow

like yeah boston's boeing makeout was the stupidest moment of this episode and that's saying something considering top and mew exist but that also is so clearly some more clumsily engineered writing to go Ooga Booga Boston Bad Slut Ooga Booga that i'm more annoyed with the writers than boston as a character

this is so fucking nasty. jesus christ. some real weather underground weatherfries shit, except, oops, the circle is one person and everyone else is virtuous and perfect and has never done anything wrong. i hope a meteorite hits the hostel.

i also hope someone drowns mew in the river like a kangaroo

sorry i said the stupidest scene of the episode was boeing and boston making out because of course they play truth or dare and of course sand is kissing top. whatever. who gives a shit. god is dead and life is meaningless.

'being with you gives me so much positive energy' bitch are you serious please say sike

GET FUCKED, MEW, GET FUCKED, I AM SO SICK OF YOUR BITCH ASS, I HOPE YOU DIE, I HAVE NEVER HATED A CHARACTER SO MUCH AS YOU, I HOPE TOP GIVES YOU SYPHILIS

the boston/nick breakup scene hit with the force of a light breeze so that was a big nothing

god why on earth do i have to fucking keep seeing top and mew. jesus fuck. no one likes them. their story has no narrative urgency. god damn.

i actually can't do it. i'm fast-forwarding through this scene because i'm so fucking sick of them.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA THE HOTEL IS ON FIRE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

normally i have a bad reaction to fires in media but also in this case i'm allowed to celebrate it as a treat

of course it wasn't even a bad one. both of them should have been burned alive, but i'm not getting anything i want in this show.

cannot believe they got seven minutes of screentime as opposed to boston and nick's, like, one. the narrative favoritism in this show is repulsive.

'and you must trust me' ray i wouldn't trust you to dress yourself without zipping your dick into the fly of your pants

'i want an easy but meaningful name' sand already has one but as usual you have to bulldoze over anything he has as an individual so you can smear your feces on every lampshade he owns

wow even in the post-credits scene and even when boston's a continent away these useless shithogs can't miss a chance to humiliate him

'don't worry if you're alone. we can be your friends.' i'm calling the cops to report a terrorist threat

in conclusion:

[skinni-girls-eat-books]

Monday, December 30th, 2024!

8:15am: Just took like ten stressful minutes to unclog the toilet and I immediately had to poop again but it's fine now. Perfect timing 💀I really thought I broke that bitch

9:43am: lol rotting in bed. Nervous about my financial aid, kinda want to see how little I can spend in January and still have a wonderful time. More free things, more cheap house shows, more bringing your own food/ alcohol. Ugh so many goals lol we'll see what sticks. Had a peach seltzer thing today 45 cal. Don't even know why I'm counting cals bc I'm gonna blow it up with all the meat and cheese I'm eating 😅

10:36am: Rum punch with meat and potato bowl 😋😋😋😋 I want to watch a murder mystery but I really want it to be a good one lol or something scary I haven't seen before. Craving novelty ughh

Midnight: Lol I feel like a loser when I start to look at all the places I've never been to before here. I've done quite a few things, but not a lot of the nature stuff that is very available here. What can I say, I moved here for the city life and might end up staying for the nature vibes lol maybe I'm just getting old... Mid 20s is a weird time...

I really spent 7 hrs today basically just looking up shit to do.... Idk why it makes me feel like I wasted a day but like it's really hard to find things to do???? Why are events and places like hidden. Like they don't want people to know about shit or go anywhere or do anything. I don't understand. Literally probably won't even go to half of it but it's ok. Plus just the sinking feeling that I'm trying to avoid studying and shit like that.... Ugh I'm so over school like jesus christ who let me do this to myself. Ridiculous lol 🙃 it's fine, I'm fine, these holidays in the middle of the week are kicking my ass. Can't ever just have normal fucking days off. Seriously. Never. Only having time off when everything revolves around a holiday and everything is closed and everyone expects you to be somewhere doing something specific...... sucks... sorry for being a grinch but it's true. I just want normal days offffffff. Why why why is it so normal for me to not have a fucking schedule. This isn't good or healthy like wtffddd this isn't how adults live. People plan vacations, plan their routines, days off, fucking ugh. My life is too random and I'm just kinda done with this. I want to work a regular schedule so I can have a regular flow of energy. Ok it's like people binge eating when they don't have regular access to food except my body BINGE SLEEPS because I don't know when I'll be able to just rest again 💀😭 I have been stuck BINGE SLEEPING on my days off for a whole month now. My sleep schedule is fucked and I'm constantly tired :( but at the same time very well rested like I could do something if someone invited me somewhere for example. But my default now is like: OH HI, NOTHING URGENTLY REQUIRING ALL YOUR TIME FOCUS AND ENERGY?? GREAT, TIME TO SLEEP FOR 20 HOURS AND WASTE ALL YOUR FREE TIME!! Not even getting out of bed to eat or shower like my body has been in sleep starvation mode. Fuck me man. Welp.

I'm glad I wrote this down bc binge sleeping is exactly the right way to describe what I've been going through. And I guess this particular moment of panic/ feeling like I wasted the day, is equivalent to purging a binge, because I'm clearly fucking myself more for staying up until 2am just *because I slept all day*. Wowowwwwwww fuck I love journaling and I just solved my problem! Fuck I'm dumb and prone to self destructive behavior.

[jolalibrary]

Happy birthday, jo!!!! You are a brilliant friend, fabulous writer and I love talking to you.

Can I request (and be a little greedy):

🎨 the doing you ourselves - any colour/number that's available

🎉 my birthday - a) happy birthday again and b) what are you top five fave books (maybe with a romcom vibe??)

✏️ late night words - phone crossword

@thelightsandtheroses

hello my lovely friend! thank you so much for your loveliness!!!!

I have ticked off the two things for colour and crossword separately! so, here we go with BOOOKS:

purely romcom vibes..

any emily henry book please don’t make me choose, okay omg people we meet on vacation or funny story ugh gosh.

the ex talk - the podcast element of this really tickled my fancy.

the heart principle - loveable main character who goes on a great self realisation, hard love.

my killer vacation - I got sucked into this so quickly and I adored the writing style so much.

it’s hard to choose a fifth cause I could keep going but I’m going to go with the dead romantics because I loved the premise a lot and it had me giggling.

[tea-and-finalfantasy]

anyways as much anxiety as it's giving me to think abt trying to function "normally," it'd be nice to get that first job i mentioned bc of:

the subject matter (more focused than general eng tutoring, would just be in a student center presumably where i'd go over essays with freshman college students/doesn't require the kind of like. pseudo curriculum planning tutoring did lol)

the hours/schedule bc it's not overwhelming but still provides decent hours, is just a year so i don't have to panic abt committing to smtn my adhd isn't ready for lol plus if it's college, it'll adhere to that schedule? so presumably i'll get the same vacations or at least not have to commute for anything?

the location (bc i'd commute into boston which yeah means a small commute but on public transit + i'm familiar with it bc i commuted into boston for a year before, i went to college in boston, i live right by it like the commute isn't bad at all aside from like, the state of the mbta lol + the job is in such a familiar area like i've walked there before from college lol + you cannot stop me from getting food and snacks once i'm in there)

plus i wouldn't be responsible for like, making every student the best writer, i'd just ??? presumably go over what's working and what's not? and who knows if i'd always meet with the same students either? like it feels genuinely chill, esp in comparison to the tutoring i just did where the schedule being so erratic + never having a clear idea of what to work on when was just. ugh. fucking horrible

working with that student was great! loved them! but meeting once a week and essentially never having the continuity we needed--sometimes working on stuff that wasn't eng??? like i literally don't feel like i made that much of a difference which sucked. plus for only an hr a week, i didn't really make enough to justify the stress lol? like i should've just committed to etsy only lol

[laughteristhebestmedicinelol]

June 12

Canada is on fire. Trump has been indicted for storing secret documents in his bathroom. To date, over 18,806 people have been killed by gun violence in the United States. Drag shows are still legal, and PHOENIX IS 9!!!!!

He left on Friday. He’s with his mom and having a great time but man do I miss him. Only getting 1 week of summer vacation with him really sucks!

Blah. Out of my control right now. Focus on something else.

~~~

June 12th is also the first day of Summer classes. I’m taking Sociology 101 which I’m kind of excited about but also annoyed about (I’m sure it will be interesting and I’ll learn something, but the 103 and 310 classes I already took, and got an A in, weren’t sufficient? Has to be 101? If I were paying for classes I’d think it was a financial strategy to eek more money out of me, but City is free so it’s more likely some we’ll intentioned but not fully thought through requirement.

ZOMG so many things out of my control

I got my desk work area organized yesterday. Well, I’m 90% there. It’s looking good though. I took a bookcase from Phoenix’s room and shoved all the supplies that were on/under/around my desk onto that so now the chaos is controlled or at least contained and my desktop is empty which helps immensely.

Another thing that’s empty is my inbox. Where is my admissions packet? I’m supposed to receive it “the week off June 12th” but nothing yet. It’s painful… there is like zero sense of urgency. And I could understand the vague language of it were snail mail but this is an email. You can decide the date you want someone to receive an email- you can schedule it.

But, maybe, like every other person on the planet, the person responsible for sending that email is overwhelmed. Or hasn’t finalized all the details or updates. And then I’m thinking- but wait don’t you have a system? You do this every year? TWICE a year? How much information has really changed since last term? Can you just send out part of the information? Something? No… nothing? Ugh…

I’m going crazy. We have our orientation on Tuesday and Monday is a holiday. Tick tock. If I don’t have an email by 2pm tomorrow I’m emailing them asking for an ETA.

Also, I haven’t just been sitting idly by waiting. I’ve been scoring the internet trying to find the information online. And I’ve found nothing.

NOTHING.

Which is probably making me extra grumpy. What am I doing wrong? It’s out there I just can’t figure out how to access it- SO frustrating!! I’ve spent more time than I want to admit trying to find a book list or a syllabus on any of the courses on the program: a copy of the book list, syllabus, blogs by former students, anything. I’ve found NOTHING. I must just be looking in the wrong places. This is how I know I’m old- I’m going crossed searching Google “filetype:pdf” for every combination I can think of but if I just went to Kahoot or Quizlet I could find the information (I did try that BYW… but you get the idea).

Oh, and now that I’ve gotten into CCSF I need to apply to SF State for the bridge program. I’m assuming I’ll get details on this in the packet CCSF is sending me this week. Fingers crossed because there is very little information about the available online (shocker!!). I mean I can figure out the deadlines but what is the acceptance rate, canI sees copy of a past syllables, who are the professors?

I can’t be the only person who wants this information- someone must have been in my situation and documented this. How do I track down that information???

[gunthermunch]

[Transcript under the cut]

Max: ugh [ Max searches his pockets ] Ale: * coughs * Max: great. just what i needed Ale: mmhm! Max: …christ. Ale: i don't smoke but i always carry a lighter on me, y'know. just in case someone like you needs one Max: this sucks… Ale: what did Lebanon Hanover do to you? Max: I- nothing, Ale, nothing. Ale: …so yeah, i'm actually on vacation with my family. Windenburg is begging for tourists i swear. Max: you don't say Ale: i wanted to have some fun on my last night here, because * chuckles * it's been pretty boring not gonna lie Max: hey. i own that shirt too Ale: oh shit really Ale: … what about that? Max: what? weren't we sharing useless facts about each other? Ale: …you know what? for such a pretty face, you really suck Max: …bold. Ale: wanna go dance? it seems quieter now Max: i don't dance Ale: oh. where are you going? Max: i want to explore Ale: nice. i heard the second floor is interesting

[zhonglilittlepet]

Sugar daddy!tartaglia imagines(i think?)

Sfw and nsfw

Sfw

~he loves spoiling you <3 he will give u anything u want

~would take you out on a lovely date :D

~feel like he would love to cuddle you

~if ur on your period he would buy u sweets or snacks and heat pads

~definitely would comfort you if ur having cramps

“S’ okay baby you’re gonna be alright <3”

“I’ll buy you anything you want okay? I’ll also give u kisses aswell <3”

~you want that pretty diamond necklace? Sure sure he’ll get you not 1 but M A N Y of it <333 he just loves spoiling you

~you want to play games with your friends but u have no pc set up..dw tartaglia will get it for you

~want that pretty earring? Sure sureee he’d do anything to make you happy!

~want that pretty heels/shoes? Ofc he’ll try buy the entire store.

~want those pretty outfits/dress? <33 ofc how can he say no to those cute puppy eyes of your :( your too cute for him to say no.

~ofc ofc he buys you anything you want and watch u brag it to your friends <3

~u wanna go on a vacation? Yeah sure don’t expect him to say no cause he’ll definitely take you to anywhere you want

~and probably plan a romantic date too <3

~would compliment everyday how u look so cute in the outfit or pretty

Nsfw

~if u act all fucking bratty definitely 100% will cut off your allowance.

~loves watching you cry about it and throw a tantrum

~definitely would pick you up and throw u onto the bed and pin you down

~”go on cry about your allowance getting cut off. Go on. Cry. Continue crying and i still wont give it back”

“You asked for this. So go on continue cry about it”

~hes so mean but you deserved it for being such a damn brat :/ <3

~definitely would take u to the club just so he can show off to his comrades on how pretty and good you are <3

���Sit pretty for me m’kay? I’ll reward you later hm?”

~his comrades would definitely try hit on you when he’s going to the bathroom ugh gross mens but u cant do anything ab it :( your too weak to even fight them

~once he comes back he’s probably pissed by his comrades…touching his fucking toy without his permission

“I suggest you find your own toy instead of mine,your gonna break my toy”

“Whats wrong? Tiffany left you because your 5 cm dick cant satisfy her cunt? And so u have to take my toy? Sheesh”

~drags you back and sits on you on his lap, his slender hands hugging you waist not letting you go

~would definitely non-stop fucking you even ur full of his cum because he’s so pissed that his comrade touched his toy :(

“I’ll show him who do u belong too.”

“I’ll fucking claim this cunt and fill you so full of my children and all u can think about carrying my children and me filling you full.”

~definitely 100% give u hickeys well tomorrow they are meeting again so he’ll show that bastard who u belong to <3

~ugh mf would tease you while your tryna read your book

Ahem by what i meant was..

You cockwarming him while u read your book

He would move randomly and watch u try cover your mouth trying not to moan

“Oops sorry baby i just need to adjust my seat hehe” he gives you his stupid stupid smug!

~okay so i feel like he would record you sucking his cock

“Look at you sucking my cock like good girl”

“S’ pretty like th-that yes keep sucking my cock and a surprise will come out”he groans and pats your head

~he would probably take many pictures of you while his cum is oozing out of your cunt

~okay he would scoop the cum thats oozing out from your tight cunt and tells you to open your mouth and makes u suck his finger clean

~and he would continue fucking his cum in you since it keeps on oozing out :((

Hey hey thank you for reading :,) i hope u enjoy this sorry for the sfw being so short but i hope u enjoy the nsfw :) ty for reading again and have a great day or night

[graciegoeskrazy]

Soulmate

Pairings: Sebastian Stan x teen!daughter!reader

Word count: 1140

Warnings: HORRENDOUS GRAMMER, fluff

A/N: Hai. So um. I got a lot of writing done Sunday and was prepared to finish it all Monday and post it...but then a starting throwing up on Monday because of a stomach bug lolz. But, I just got back to school today and I'm fine now, but I was up till 2am last night which is so unlike me. I just had this surge of inspiration and was like “f it lets write.” I usually do “angsty-er” things but this is just cuteness and love so...sorry if this sucks. I hope you enjoy! This is also bussed off a quiz on Buzzfeed. I’ll link it at the end🥰 Do NOT repost my work on other platforms. 

You and your dad were handed laptops once you took your spots on the chairs. The ‘director’ was super nice. She had short, straight, brown hair, with big cat eye eyeliner on both eyes, and a jacket wrapped around her waist. “So if we could get started by doing an intro? You know, just something like, ’Hey, I’m Sebastian Stan. I’m y/n we’re doing this quiz blah blah blah’ you know, the usual? I know this isn't your guy’s first time in front of a camera.” You and your dad nodded understanding what she meant. “Just play off each other, have fun, and remember to say the question and the answer options before picking.”

“I’ve seen like every single one of these, I'm super excited!” She laughed. “Okay great! Whenever you guys are ready.” 

Sebastian gave you a reassuring look before starting you both off. You smiled and nodded before he turned back to the camera.

“Hey, I’m Sebastian Stan.”

“I’m y/n Stan.”

“And today, we are taking a quiz with BuzzFeed.”

“And I'm gonna win.”

Your dad gave you a fake confused look. “I don’t think that’s how it works, babe.”

You shrugged and looked into the camera before saying, “I’ll still win.” which made everyone laugh.

“Wait! What quiz are we taking?”

“Uhhh…ha. ‘Answer these would you rather question and we will reveal if your soulmate is Sebastian or y/n Stan.’ I’m not sure- what if I get myself? What does that mean?” He asked, looking at you. You simply shrugged. “We’re gonna find out. Let's start.”

“Alright. ‘Would you rather spend the rest of your life with a sailboat or an RV as your home?’ Is there a nether button?”

“I would 100% choose RV. I am terrified of the ocean.”

“I knew you were gonna pick that.” He laughed.

“Like the boat looks fun for a night out or a vacation but not to spend the rest of your life on! Also, the commute to work would be awful and quite impossible with a boat.”

Your dad was starting to make fun at how serious you were taking this.

“What about you? What do you think?”

“I think you are 100% correct. RV it is.”

After a short moment of silence, you asked him a definite ‘no’ question. “Does that mean we can get an RV?”

“No.”

“Awe.”

“Next question.”

You giggled.

”Would you rather be the first person to explore a new planet or be the inventor of a drug that cures a deadly disease?”

“Deadly disease.”

“Why?” He asked.

“Because if you think about it, a new planet would be super duper far away from here, like farther than Pluto or something like that. We couldn’t even go.”

He seemed pretty impressed. “Hm. I like it…I’m still choosing ‘new planet’ though.”

“Ugh. I knew you would.”

“I love space stuff y/n!”

“I know! How do you think I know that stuff? Next one.”

“Would you rather go back to age five with everything you know now or know everything your future self will learn now?”

“I really want to skip this one.”

“Meh. I think I’d go to the future.”

“What?! Okay, but like, wait.” You crossed your legs and faced your dad. He laughed at how hard you were thinking this through. He put his fist to his chin and smiled at you. “This isn’t real, sweets. It’s just a quiz. A fun quiz.”

“I know, but I like to be right.”

“Oh my gosh. You are my daughter.”

“Next!”

“Would you rather be an average person in the present or a king of a large country 2500 years ago?”

“Okay, so. 2500-2022=…”

“Sweets. Pick an answer.”

“I am!”

“Math shouldn’t have to be involved.”

“Okay yeah, no. An average person today.” You gave the camera a thumbs up and clicked the keyboard while your dad rolled his eyes.

“Would you rather move to a new city or town every week or never be able to leave the city or town you were born in?”

“Move every week.” You stated.

“Same.”

“Seems like a lot but whatevs.”

“You see how easy it was to make a decision on something that isn’t going to happen?” He gave you a smirk while you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, almost done. ‘Would you rather be forced to dance every time you heard music or be forced to sing along to any song you heard?’ It’s gonna be singing for me.”

“I would dance. I’m not that great of a singer.”

“Lie!”

“Whatever. It seems more convenient…”

“It actually doesn't.”

“But I would constantly get pissed because I would be doing the same choreography to Disney channel songs constantly because that's all I listen to.”

“Oh my gosh. You're nuts.”

“I get it from you.”

“Would you rather your only mode of transportation be a donkey or a giraffe?”

“Giraffe! OMG. Screw the donkey!”

“I guess so.”

“I would have a giraffe and name him rizzo.”

“Like…from grease?”

“Exactly.”

“Oh my gosh. Last one. ‘Would you rather have to read aloud every word you read or sing everything you say out loud?’ Read aloud. I already do that.”

“Same. That’s fine with me.”

“Again, see how easy that was?”

You rolled your eyes yet again.

You gasped. “I got me!”

He fake-gasped. “I got me to!”

“Ha ha! It says, ‘You are always the life of the party, and never afraid to let your true self fly free. You have so many amazing talents, and never take anything you have for granted.’ Awe. I’d say that’s pretty accurate! What does yours say?”

“It says, ‘You're more of the quiet type and need to find the right person to be totally comfortable with, which is why Sebastian is the perfect guy for you! You two are both adorkable and appreciate the little things in life.’ Yeah that's accurate but it makes me look like a wuss or something.”

“No! I like it. It's fine.”

Soon, the small crew clapped and the director approached you both. “Perfect. That was awesome guys! Give us an outro and we can wrap it up.”

Your father just looked at the camera before thinking. In all honesty, he was kind of over it. It had been a long day of press and meeting people so he was…losing it?

“I'm Sebastian and this is y/n and go watch our shows and stuff.” He followed his bleak comment with a thumbs up which made everyone laugh. You sighed at him before dividing to help him out. “Thank you for watching. Go subscribe to Buzzfeed and watch ‘Pam & Tommy’ and ‘Fresh’ out now on Hulu, and my new show on Netflix coming in two weeks. You looked at your dad. “Better?” He continued looking at the camera. “Do what she said.”

Buzzfeed quiz here!

✨Masterlist✨

Thanks for reading!

[yougotthatbilly]

take care (m)

→ member: johnny seo

→ genre: assistant!johnny | smut

→ word count: 15.9k (not surprised atp)

→ playlist: body talk x majid jordan, warm x majid jordan, BoRdErSz x zayn, moment x victoria monét

→ warnings: slowburn, indecisiveness, v  self-indulgent; unprofessional relations, big dick!johnny (ofc; don’t expect anything else), soft dom!johnny, begging (johnny’s a tease), subspace, oral; face-fucking, (and if you squint, ass eating), unprotected sex, squirting, praising, overstimulation, etc. 

↳ summary: your assistant just wants to take care of you

The heavy rain outside mocks you. You were supposed to be at your favorite bar across the street, but here you are sitting at your desk, staring out your window. And that’s how Johnny finds you after being granted entrance into your office.

Your arm is propped up on the arm of your seat, cheek in hand, lips pouted. Johnny does his best not to smile at the thought of you looking adorable as not to piss you off. He just sets your cup of tea down on the coaster on the corner of your desk. 

“How was the meeting?” he asks, taking a seat on the other side of your desk. 

You slowly spin to face him, looking at him with annoyed eyes as you take a sip of your tea. It’s the perfect temperature—a temperature Johnny took almost a month to perfect— and sweetness, and it instantly makes you feel a little better.

“Don’t worry,” you sigh. “Jiyoung didn’t get fired.” You have a three-strike policy; this incident is the second strike.

“Jaehyun,” Johnny corrects, grinning.

You tilt your head at his correction. “I care?”

Johnny just shakes his head, knowing you’re being petty because Jaehyun got his dates wrong and uploaded a post on a few new products a week earlier than the scheduled date, resulting in having to speed things up a little. It didn’t cause a major problem because you’re typically prepared for the worst case scenario, but you don’t like feeling rushed and when things don’t go as planned, so you were pissed. 

“What’s his punishment?”

“That’s between me and him,” you tell Johnny before taking another sip. Your lip curls in disgust at the suggestive look your assistant gives you. “Okay, let’s not be gross. He’s a child.”

“I didn’t know 23 was considered a child,” Johnny teases, mostly because the man of the hour has had a crush on you for the last year he’s been working for you and he’s been trying to get Johnny to talk him up to you. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to get fired in his place,” you say with a tight smile. Johnny decides to switch the subject.

“Mind me asking why you looked so sad when I walked in?”

You sigh once more, slouching in your seat.

“I wanted to go to the bar…” You point to the window beside you. Johnny follows your finger and watches the storm that hasn’t let up since it started half an hour ago. “That’s not happening anytime soon.”

You’ve either been in your office working nonstop or sleeping for the last week or so and you can feel a burnout creeping up. You were going to walk to the bar to get the fresh air you needed, enjoy a drink and your favorite wings because you deserve it—especially after the headache Jaehyun caused the moment you stepped foot into your office this morning—and indulge yourself. Now look at you, hardly munching on the fruit slices Johnny gave you this morning and almost finished with your tea.

“I’m sorry things aren’t going the way you planned today.” Johnny pouts. “On the bright side, you don’t have anything else on your schedule so if you wanted to go home within the next hour, you wouldn’t fall behind.”

“I’ll probably just take a nap on the futon once I’m done looking over the new plan again.” You shrug. 

Johnny wants to roll his eyes, but he catches himself. He’s sure you’ve already gone over it at least five times. There’s nothing he can do about it, though, so lifts himself out of his seat. “I’ll leave you to it. Just give me a call if something comes up or you change your mind.”

To both of your surprise, you actually head out and get yourself a candle you’d ran out of a week ago on the way home to treat yourself to a much needed bath filled with bubbles and essential oils. The scent of the candle reminds you of your assistant because it’s the scent he got you for your birthday, and it’s become your favorite. 

You send a picture of the candle at the end of your tub to Johnny, thanking him again for putting you onto greatness, as he worded it before when you first smelled it in front of him and your eyes practically rolled back. 

[18:14] John Suh: Are you actually relaxing???

You suck your teeth at his response, but you can’t blame him. He’s the only one that knows just how much you put in to get to the position you’re in, while you’re positive a lot of others just think it was handed to you by your mother instead of the school and endless hours work you went through and continue to go through. It’s very rare you give yourself the time to truly sit back and relax aside from when you’re on vacation. And even then, work never really stops. It just gets placed on the back burner for a little.

[18:16] you: Hush.

[18:17] John Suh: I’m just glad you’re taking care of yourself. Your dark circles have been snitching on you.

[18:17] you: Wow. You really wanna get fired today, huh?

[18:18] John Suh: Dark circles or not, you know you’re still beautiful. Now stop texting me and enjoy your bath!

When you find yourself smiling at your phone, you know you should do exactly what he says. Johnny’s always been a complimenter, though his usual kindness goes along the lines of telling you that you look nice. You’re no stranger to this specific compliment, you get it all the time on Instagram from your business partners and supporters. So why does this time settle differently within you?

[18:21] you: Nice save. 

You need a video of one of your popular social media influencer ambassadors using and reviewing your newest skincare products tomorrow—due to Jaehyun’s mix-up—but that’s not happening. She didn’t record it before going on vacation and didn’t think to bring the products with her on her trip. While it isn’t her fault times have moved around, you’re annoyed she didn’t bring the products with her when she’s supposed to be using them every day because she’s one of your main advocates for your products being oily skin-friendly. You have the videos of the other models with their specific skin types, and this is your missing piece. 

The weather is nice today, so you take a much-needed break from electronics and go to the roof of the building. Your peace is quickly interrupted by the body of a six-foot male in front of you, standing in the way of the sunlight you were basking in.

“I know you hate him right now,” Johnny begins, skipping over greetings to get to the point of his disruption. “But Jaehyun has oily skin, he’s been using the products you gave him for like three weeks, he really likes them, and he has a good following on Instagram.”

You take the phone handed to you begrudgingly and look at Jaehyun’s page. Thirteen thousand followers and quality pictures. You’re not blind, Jaehyun is conventionally attractive and looks like a model in the photos and boomerangs. Something is missing, though. “Eh.”

“‘Eh?’” Johnny parrots, confused. He doesn’t know a better last-minute model for you than Jaehyun.

“Something’s missing,” you explain with a shrug. You absentmindedly tap the profile icon at the bottom of the screen and Johnny’s Instagram profile pops up. The two of you follow each other, so it’s not like you’ve never seen his pictures, but it’s been a while since you actually paid attention to detail. He has eighteen thousand followers and apparently uploads his pictures following a color theme. There are pictures of himself, random people, and nature in a strategic flow. When you select a video to watch, you’re sold on the lighting, exposure, and the way he captured the woman’s features. “Sit.”

Johnny does so without any questions. You gently grab his jaw and study his face closely. His skin is supple and dewy, the sun highlighting his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Not that his skin was bad before he started using your products, but the texture and scarring have minimized quite a bit. Johnny doesn’t have the typical, bland model face your competitors love so much, especially with the slight stubble he’s got above his top lip and on his chin. 

“What’s your skin type, John?” 

“Oily,” he sighs, knowing what’s coming next. He was doing his job as your assistant, trying to make your life easier, but now he wishes he would’ve left this task to the social media department and stayed out of it. 

You thought so. “Will you do this for me instead?”

“Do I look like an influencer to you?” 

“Yes. I’ll double your next check and everything,” you promise him. “You actually have a personality and everything you post is quality. Women will love the eye candy and all types of men will take you seriously because you don’t have that annoying pristine, perfect look to you like Jaeyoung does.”

Johnny is here to fulfill your needs, so he knows you asking is really just you being polite. He doesn’t have much of a choice, especially with the lack of time you have. He is enjoying the warmth of your hand and the fact you referred to him as ‘eye candy,’ too. And who is he to say no to extra money?

“I’ll have it recorded and edited by midnight,” Johnny smiles, giving you the hope you need. 

“Ugh, you’re the best,” you sigh in relief, shaking his face side to side affectionately before letting him go to stand up. You feel much better now. “Send it directly to me.” 

Johnny stands up with you and leads the way, opening the door for you. “Yes, ma’am.”

Always true to his word, Johnny emails you two links at a quarter-till, with a message attached: 

Good evening, 

I edited two videos for you, one short enough for a regular post on the company’s page and the other that could be used for my IGTV for my followers. I hope these meet your expectations, but if there’s anything you need me to fix or redo, let me know and I’ll get right to it. 

Sincerely, 

John Suh

You get comfortable in your bed with your iPad and tap the first link. You make sure the brightness and volume are high enough to get the full effect, then press play. The quality of the film makes you assume he used a professional camera instead of his phone, and he gets a point for that. 

“Hey,” Johnny starts with an awkwardly endearing smile. “I know this is a little different than what I usually post, but I got scouted by the skincare goddess herself to be an ambassador for Surreal’s new line of skincare, Ethereal.”

You grin at the nickname and note that with him being in the bathroom, there’s no echo in his audio, and that gives him another point.

“I’ve been using the four of the five products I’m about to introduce to you everyday for around a month and before I do my skincare routine for you, I’ll show you what my skin looked like before I started using these products with dates so you don’t think I’m just trying to sell you on them just because she’s been writing my checks for the last year,” Johnny chuckles, then the screen shows a selfie Johnny took with the date of a month ago from today, some hyperpigmentation and small bumps dotting his cheek and jaw. 

Another point for including before and afters. You knew he’d meet your expectations without you having to say much.  

“I’ll get up close and personal at the end so you can really see the results,” Johnny winks into the camera, causing you to blink. 

You knew he’d have personality and that was one of the main reasons he was a great idea, and while in hindsight his actions are predictable, you shake your head. The fact that he’s actually charming makes you scoff, but you’re sure that the damn wink only worked on you right now because it’s almost midnight and you should be asleep right now. You won’t act like he hasn’t always been nice on the eyes, but he’s Johnny. 

You can’t deny that you do thoroughly enjoy the Johnny presented to you through the screen, though. 

“The first product is an oil-based cleanser because the SPF in this collection is oil-based as well,” Johnny explains, then proceeds to show the jar and small spatula that comes with it before he scooped some out, capturing the texture of the product well. 

And that’s how the rest of the video plays out, the unusually deep, gentle tone of Johnny’s voice explaining how well each product works for his oily and acne-prone skin, lulling you into a relaxed state against your headboard. He keeps things short and simple, the video just barely passing three minutes and as promised, his face comes a lot closer to the screen, showing the faded scarring and smooth texture of what used to be his problem areas. Johnny ends the video with a sweet smile and says goodbye. The shorter video is edited to where he’s hardly talking, mostly just demoing your products, just the way you like things to be on the company’s page.

You did great, John. Thanks again for doing this last minute. You can come in at 10 am tomorrow since I had you working overtime today. Rest well. 

Johnny is at your desk with your morning cup of tea at eight in the morning, a bright smile on his face as he tells you good morning. 

You glare at him. “Why are you here?”

“Because it’s my job?” Johnny says, pretending like he doesn’t know what you’re referring to. You can read him well, though. You take the mug out of his hand before gesturing for him to take a seat in front of you. 

“You’re either being hard-headed as usual, or you’re anxious about your video being uploaded. Which is it?” 

And that wipes the bright smile off of his face. 

“I slept three hours last night,” he confesses. “I’m not used to this kind of exposure.”

You take a couple of sips of your tea and quietly observe him, thinking. 

“Would you prefer we didn’t post it, then?”

Your assistant looks at you as if you didn’t just speak one of the languages he’s fluent in. You just blink at him and continue drinking your beverage, waiting for him to either say yes or no in case you need to make other plans, again.

“You’d do that for me?” he finally says after a while of staring at you like you’re crazy. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask slowly. “You’ve proven how far you’d go for me and I appreciate it, but I care about you as a person and anxiety is a bitch, so I wouldn’t want you to be panicking over Jaejoon’s mistake.”

The corner of Johnny’s lift curls at your continued pettiness, and maybe his heart does a thing at the fact that you care that much about him. It’s obvious to everyone that he is the closest to you out of all of your employees; being your assistant means you let your guard down a little with him. Along with the more serious side of your personality everyone else gets (especially recently), he sees your soft side. You’re not an overly strict boss, but Johnny gets to see you smile more and pout (he’d lose his job if he admitted to you how endearing your pout is to him). But even with the closer relationship the two of you have, Johnny would’ve never expected you to choose his stage fright over your baby; your company.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Johnny declines with a shake of his head. “I’ll be okay, I promise. Thank you for considering my feelings, though.”

You shrug, not about to press him on the issue. “Alright. I need you to post the IGTV at 2 pm and tag our page in an appropriate caption. I’d suggest you turn your notifications off for a while because as soon as you post it, it’s getting posted to our story then I’m sure you’re gonna get flooded with DM’s.”

“Flooded?’” Johnny asks, head tilted. “I mean, all I’ll have to do is copy and paste the same message answering any questions they might have about the products. Easy.”

You’re the one to look at him like he’s stupid this time. You set your mug down, lean back in your swivel chair, and clasp your hands over your stomach. “You can’t be that dense.”

“‘Dense?’” he asks.

“Are you a parrot?” you tsk. “But yes, dense. You know good and well most of the messages will have nothing to do with my products and everything to do with you.”

Johnny has the audacity to still be confused after your explanation. 

“John, you realize you’re a good-looking guy with a likable personality, right?” 

It’s not that he doesn’t know that. Johnny’s always been a pretty confident guy, with both his looks and personality. His confusion doesn’t stem from being blind or too humble. It’s the fact you of all people are telling him this right now. 

“You think so?” he prompts, just to see how many compliments he can get out of you. This is a rare occasion.

“When you’re not being annoyingly happy-go-lucky and chill out, yes.” You reply. And now he’s pouting. That’s what he gets.

“I thought my cheerfulness brought joy to your days,” Johnny says with a dramatic hand on his heart, offended.

“What brings me joy is everything running smoothly and everyone doing their job,” you correct. He isn’t wrong, but you decide not to stroke his ego any more than you already have. And you’ve already said too much. “With that being said, you do everything I ask of you, and that brings me so much joy. You’re the perfect assistant, so don’t cry.”

“Is this your way of telling me to calm down?”

Your iPad buzzes against the wood of your desk and when you peek at it, you see it’s an email from Jaehyun with the subject: Today’s upload schedule.

“This is my way of telling you to get to work, honey.”

Johnny often finds himself slowly backing out of your office with his hands up in surrender, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves the distinct differences between the two of you. He figures it’s why you work so well together and why he’s held this job position for over a year in comparison to the two assistants before him that both got fired before the six-month mark. Johnny’s also positive that you love his excessively positive nature (as Jaehyun has described Johnny’s personality before) somewhere deep down and that he brightens your day after dealing with idiots like Jaehyun. 

When your assistant is out of sight, you grab your iPad, respond to Jaehyun’s email, and find yourself rewatching today’s scheduled video. Maybe more than once. 

The video is up at 2 pm sharp and Johnny does as advised, turning his Instagram notifications off immediately. He even goes as far as taking his phone off of vibrate so he isn’t aware of any other notifications until he decides to look at his phone again. He’s got things to organize anyway, so the work he has to do takes his mind off of any anxiety within him. 

That is until you appear at the doorway of his office an hour later. This is a rare occurrence, so Johnny can’t be blamed for staring at you, and in the process, he appreciates the very fitted pantsuit you’re wearing. You took off the blazer sometime in between when Johnny left your office hours ago and now, and he thinks that the blush pink blouse compliments your complexion and red lips very well. But of course it does. Everything you wear compliments everything about you perfectly. 

Just one of the many observations Johnny has made in the past year.

“How do you feel?” you ask him. Your voice is always so calm and collected, even when you’re ripping someone to shreds because of idiocy. Johnny admittedly admires that about you.

“I’ve done everything under the sun to avoid my phone,” Johnny confesses with a weak laugh.

You nod. “Well, just know that I’ve had multiple companies and modeling agencies ask why I’ve been hiding you. So don’t be surprised if you have job opportunities waiting for you.” 

“Wow… this means I can finally quit,” Johnny hardly whispers with a victorious fist pump.

“I wish the hell you would,” you deadpan, breaking Johnny’s act and causing him to laugh loudly at the lack of expression paired with your response. “You’re mine unless there’s a tragic accident, God forbid, or you’re moving up in the ranks.”

“Promise?” 

“Promise,” you confirm, sending him a wink before turning on your heel and strutting back to your own office. Johnny licks his lips at the sight of the natural sway of your hips before shaking his head and getting back to working on the excel sheet staring at him.

“How is it that you all have the skills and training for the very simple tasks I ask you to complete, yet lack common sense and proper work ethic?” 

Everyone in the room, excluding Johnny, just looks up at you from their seats, pitiful expressions on their faces. Their eyes follow you as you slowly walk to the other side of the room. You’re trying to stay calm and be professional, so pacing around the room is your best bet. 

To Johnny, you look like you’re on a runway in slow motion, modeling the slim-fitting pencil skirt and red bottoms you’re adorning. Though still attentive to every word coming out of your mouth, Johnny lets himself get lost in each step you take because he’s not the one getting chewed out. 

Mark, one of the newest additions to the marketing department, leans into Johnny’s side to whisper into his ear. “How have you managed to not fuck up and be on the receiving end of her talks yet?”

You don’t hear anything, but you see whispering happening, and now is not the time for side conversations. Johnny doesn’t even have the chance to turn to Mark or tell him to shut up until the end of the meeting before you’re speaking again.

“Mark Lee,” you call as you make your way towards him, causing him to sit up straight. “Is there something you’d like to say?”

“No, ma’am,” he responds nervously. Johnny internally shakes his head at Mark not being able to think quickly and lie. “My apologies.”

“Is there anything anyone wants to say or am I just a narcissist who loves talking to hear my lovely voice? Should I sing?” you ask, standing next to Johnny at the end of the conference table, hand on your hip. “Y’all want a performance?”

Johnny bites the inside of his cheek to refrain from laughing. Your sarcasm only intensifies the unsettled looks on everyone’s face and they all side-eye Jungwoo, their savior from the last time they got chewed out as a whole. Jungwoo raises his hand before saying, “There’s nothing we can say to excuse our actions—or lack thereof, but we will get right on it and do our jobs correctly this time. You won’t have to repeat yourself again.”

Johnny is impressed at how quickly your features soften. The ready-to-fire-someone look melts away as you nod at Jungwoo’s promise. You do have a bit of a soft spot for the latter, though, so it makes sense. 

“I’ll take your word for it. You’re dismissed,” you announce, waving everyone off. 

The room is empty, save for you and your assistant, in mere seconds. 

“You’re going to give them nightmares,” Johnny chuckles, gathering your belongings before opening the door for you to exit the conference room. He laughs once more at your responding yawn.

“How? That was me on my best behavior,” you retort, your heels clicking loudly as you walk to the elevator. “And what was Lee whispering about?”

“Your employees are just amazed that I’ve kept you satisfied for so long.”

You walk into the elevator once the doors slide open and lean against the mirrored wall, arms crossed. Your eyes are squinted as you give Johnny a once over. He has done everything right since he completed his training. “You think you can keep me satisfied?” 

There’s a challenging tone in your voice that causes Johnny to lick his lips. “I’d never disappoint you.”

Your response is a nod of your head paired with a drawn-out hum, and then you walk out of the elevator to your office once you hit your floor, walking ahead of Johnny without another word. You laugh at yourself when you replay the short conversation in your mind at the feeling you got in your gut at his response. And then you’re scoffing because, once again, it’s Johnny.

Johnny… Over six feet, amicable, charming, handsome as all hell Johnny. The scene of him licking his lips and saying those four words in that promising, deep voice in the elevator flashes through your mind once you’re seated at your desk. Your fingernail taps against the wood as you roll your lips together, stuck in your head. The ironic conclusion you come to before getting back to work is that you’re working way too much and just lacking male attention because there’s no other plausible reason for your goofy-ass assistant to have been on your mind so much for the last couple of days. 

“Really?” Johnny asks when he walks in and sees you slumped over your desk.

Your eyes flutter open at his voice.

“I was just resting my eyes” you yawn, waving him off. 

“What work is there possibly left for you to do at this point?” The products go on the market tomorrow, meaning all the work that had to be done in preparation for the launch was completed before everyone left today (the marketing department got their shit together quickly because they know about your policy and how unforgiving you are when the deadline is right around the corner). The only thing left for your marketing team to do tomorrow is look over everything once more and then you’re free to sit back and wait for customers to buy the new products and idly watch over social media if you really wanted to. It frustrates Johnny that you always find something extra to do. 

“I was doing some last minute, um”— another yawn —“touches on the-”

“Well, that’s enough,” Johnny interrupts your explanation, walking around to your side of the desk and plucking the pen out of your hand.

 You just nod and lean back in your ridiculously big swivel chair, blinking up at him slowly, because he’s right. There’s literally nothing else for you to do and you have the most full coverage concealer under your eyes; you need to rest. 

“Am I driving you home tonight?” He asks as he packs your belongings into the massive purse on the box by your feet then places it on your desk so he doesn’t have to bend back down to retrieve it.

“Yeah, I don’t feel like moving,” you mumble, thankful you spent so much money on the chair you’re oh-so comfortable in. 

Johnny puts his hands out for you to grab, and once you do so, he pulls you up. You groan and lean forward into him to catch your balance after not being on your feet for many hours, but then Johnny’s hand on firm on the middle of your lower back, and the pressure makes you stay. He’s just helping you steady yourself, a position you’ve been in once or twice before because you like to push your limits (says both your therapist and your assistant), but he smells good and he’s warm; his presence is comforting. It always has been, which is why he’s made the perfect assistant for you. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking down at the top of your head that simply nods in response.

“Think I pushed my limit,” you admit, much to your assistant’s surprise. It’s not that you’re prideful, but you don’t exactly like showing weakness, especially in front of your employees.

Though tempted to just let you rest your head on his chest because he doesn’t mind the proximity at all and knows you’re somehow comfortable, Johnny makes sure you’re standing steadily by yourself so he can drape your coat over your shoulders. He grabs your purse and wraps an arm around your waist then guides you out of your office, all the way to the parking garage, saying goodbye to the confused cleaning staff on his way out. 

He presses the button on the handle of the passenger side’s door to unlock it, opens the door, then fits you inside of his car. Johnny leans over your body to buckle your seat belt, and when he’s back away, he catches you looking at him with a look he can’t quite decipher. 

“What’s up?”

You shake your head and blink slowly. “I just really appreciate you, John.”

Johnny just nods to save face and closes the door before making his way to the driver’s seat. He’s not quite sure how to feel or respond to the soft-spoken, sleepy side of you since it’s been months since the one other time you’ve been in a similar situation, and he wasn’t as smitten as he is now. 

You’re fighting your sleep because even though you trust Johnny, you want to be as aware during this trip to your house. It’s a hard feat, though. His car is big and comfortable and the hum of the engine is trying to lull you into a deep sleep. 

Johnny looks over at you after getting on the main road and notices your internal fight. 

“You can fall asleep, you know.”

“You might take my organs.” 

“I would’ve done that a long time ago if I wanted to,” Johnny humors you. His response brings a small smile to your face, and that keeps a smile on his own. 

“You have a really pretty smile, John.”

“Thank you,” Johnny says, figuring it’s just your exhaustion talking. 

“I’m almost jealous of how pretty your lips are,” you sigh, mouth not filtering your thoughts at this point of exhaustion (you’ve gotten 10 hours of sleep in the last week, but no one, especially not Johnny, needs to know that). You don’t care enough to try to “correct” yourself because the pretty curl of his lips gets even deeper.

“Really?” Johnny asks, trying his luck again because he’s sure tonight isn’t like the other day in your office. “You think my lips are pretty?”

You hum and cuddle into his seat even more. After staring at his profile a while longer, you tell him, “I think you’re pretty.”

That makes him laugh again, taken aback at the string of compliments coming out of your mouth towards him of all people. It’s not that you’re mean or don’t applaud him for his great work, but this is a very different side of you that he’s seeing. He likes it.

“That’s a first, but I’ll take it,” he says, taking a moment to look at you again before focusing on the road again. “Thank you.”

“Are you used to hearing ‘handsome?’ ‘Fine?’ ‘Sexy?’” You notice how Johnny’s brows lift. “Too far?”

He shakes his head. “No, you’re good. I like you when you’re nice.”

“You like me regardless,” you say with a sassy scoff, pretending to flip your hair even though it’s slicked back in a low bun, the same as every workday.

Johnny nods slowly, contemplating if he should humor you or just laugh you off. It literally takes him 0.5 seconds to go with the former option because he’s been waiting for the day the two of you step out of professional talk and get into something more personal, specifically between the two of you. “You got me there. I mean, what isn’t there to like?”

Your eyes squint as you analyze him and process his words. There’s a subtle but still very noticeable shift in the air after his question, and while you’re sure it’s your fault for letting your exhaustion let you feel comfortable enough to open your mouth and start spewing out nice things to your assistant, his response is enough to keep it up. It also doesn't help that this is a far more intimate setting than work. 

“Be careful, you keep saying things like that and I’ll think you have a crush on me,” you tease him, chuckling at the snort he responds with. 

Before Johnny snitches on himself, he flips the script. “Says the one staring at my lips long enough to deem them ‘pretty’ and calling me pretty, of all things.” 

“Well,” you start as your gaze goes right back to his mouth at the mention of it. “It would be unprofessional of me to tell you that I think you’re fine as hell, so,” you shrug.

You and Johnny have always had a bit of banter between the two of you, and while this topic isn’t something that’s been covered before, it’s hard to really care when you feel comfortable enough to cross that line right now. If he hadn’t been playing along, you wouldn’t have said anything more than the simple compliment from earlier, but with the reciprocity, the logical voice within gets pushed away. Exhaustion isn’t much of an excuse at this point because that high from tiredness has passed. 

The timing of the traffic light turning red is a little too perfect. Johnny takes the opportunity to look at you again, and something lights up in his chest when he catches how your eyes travel up from his mouth to look into his own eyes at his attention. 

“It would be unprofessional,” he agrees with another nod of his head. “But I can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual.”

You hum and nod. “Good to know.”

“You must not be sleeping well for you to be throwing out compliments like that.” Johnny leans onto the middle counsel.

“I’m not saying anything I haven’t thought of for a while.” You tell him after a beat, choosing to reply honestly since you’re already here. Johnny quirks a brow to prompt you to elaborate, and you do so, mirroring his position and propping your chin in your hand. His face is a lot closer now, but you keep your eyes on his own orbs to avoid losing focus. “I hired you because of your experience and skill set, but I knew it wouldn’t hurt to have some eye-candy around me. Pretty privilege and all,” you wave a nonchalant hand. “You were perfect until you opened your mouth.”

“You can never be nice to me for long, can you?” he snorts.

“You’re perfect tonight, though,” you add on, specifically for the quirk of Johnny’s mouth that comes from the praise. Yeah, you failed the challenge. 

“How so?” Johnny questions, quickly checking to see if the light has changed yet. It hasn’t, and for once in his life he’s grateful for a long light. He feels good about where this conversation could possibly get him after a year of silently admiring you, so good that he not-so-subtly gets even closer, definitely in your bubble, but nothing too crazy.

“You’re calm and collected and taking care of me,” you admit. The silent deep breath you take to calm yourself grants you access to the scent of Johnny’s cologne again, and your mind is so close to deciding that logic is unnecessary. A tiny voice in the back of your mind has been trying to get your attention and steer you in the opposite direction of the one you’ve decided to take, with how you tilt your head up to get just a little closer to him.

“You like being taken care of?”

“I love it,” you confess, and Johnny takes the chance to tuck a stray hair behind your ear as he hums, content with your response. Definitely an excuse to test the waters and see how far he can go and how willing you are to really cross this line. You turn your face into his hand so he cups your jaw, but then there’s a horn sounding behind you because the light is green, and Johnny begrudgingly has to pay attention to the road. You blink, the trance you found yourself in with him so close but so far away dissipating, the situation becoming a lot more real now that he’s out of your space. You slump back into your seat and look out of the window, that voice becoming louder and grounding you as you take another deep breath. “But allowing myself to be vulnerable with someone like that? Yikes.”

He knows your defense mechanism is trying to kick in, but he’s not having it.

“Aside from me?” 

You hum. “Not quite…” 

You set yourself up. From that moment in the elevator to now, you’ve been digging your own grave, and Johnny has done nothing but assist you, encourage you to dig deeper. You’re not sleepy anymore, there’s no more foggy brain from earlier when he found you asleep in the office. Just desire you’ve done a grand job of ignoring up until the last few days. But unfortunately, you have to remind yourself you’ve been ignoring it for a reason.

Your assistant almost doesn’t say anything because he loves his job and you clearly switched the direction of the conversation for a reason, but so much (yet so little) has already been said during your time in the car and you’ve already said enough to get the gears in his head turning. 

“So you mean a different type of care?”Johnny asks. He pulls into your driveway and parks. He wants to get back to the space the two of you were at when stopped at that light, but you’re already unbuckling your seat belt and grabbing your purse, signifying that the moment is long gone. That doesn’t stop him from trying, though. “Do you need me to walk you in?”

“I think I’ve got it now, thanks.” You need to get inside and get some sleep. Are you running right now? Of course. You’re a responsible person and the most responsible thing for you to do as the woman that signs his paychecks, is to get the fuck away from him before he persuades you, because you both know it’s possible.

“Let me rephrase that:” he licks his pretty lips and your fist balls up around your purse’s straps. “Do you want me to walk you in? I know you didn’t need me to do most of what I’ve done tonight, but you let me because you wanted me to.” His ability to read you so well is both a blessing and a curse. “Now would you like for me to continue taking care of you tonight or not?” 

You do. You absolutely do. You’re tempted to say yes in the case you don’t end up alone tonight, but you know it’s not a good idea. And you’re sure the atmosphere of this car ride will disappear by the time you wake up. At least that’s what you tell yourself because you know, ethics.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell Johnny, opening the door and stepping out. “Thanks for the ride. Drive safe.”

Johnny watches you walk up to your door, unlock it, then disappear into your house. He lets out a deep sigh before backing out of your driveway and driving home.

Tea, fruit slices, and avocado toast are set down in front of you the moment you walk behind your desk. 

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you calmly. “Your eleven o’clock meeting has been pushed back thirty minutes, so I’d suggest using the opportunity to get out of the building and get some fresh air. You know, get away from electronics and people to recharge.”

That’s exactly what you’ll do. You’re going to be monitoring the Instagram engagement and website sales for a while, even though you pay people to be on top of numbers, so a break will definitely be needed. 

“I love your brain, you know that?” you ask, looking up at him once your jacket and bag are off of your body, meeting his eye. The corner of Johnny’s mouth twitches. 

“I told you I’d never disappoint you.”

“And I’m holding you to that.” You ignore the fact that there’s definitely another meaning behind his words. You can’t say the tension that last night’s conversation produced has gone away completely, but it’s weak enough for you to ignore it and stick to the amicable atmosphere the two of you have built for the last year plus.

“Would it be alright if I accompanied you during your walk?” Johnny prompts after a moment of him just standing there, pursing his lips together to refrain himself from grinning at you. “There’s something I’d like to run by you because I trust your opinion as my boss and my friend.”

“We’re friends?” you joke, settling into your seat.

“Last time I checked,” he responds, unfazed. “We could be even closer if you let yourself be vulnerable with me.” 

And there it is.

“John,” you say after a brief pause. He’s got his hands in his pockets, face mostly void of emotion. Johnny doesn’t want things to go back to normal, and he’s decided to let you know in the most subtle, yet obvious way. Why ignore the feeling when it’s clearly mutual? 

“Yes, boss?”

“You can leave now.”

The grin on the male’s face falters. He examines you to see just how serious you are, and he knows this isn’t one of your playful banter moments. He tries to call your name, either to ease the situation and tell you it was just a bad joke or to apologize, but you just remove your attention from him and get on your iPad. 

And when he’s out of the room, the door closed behind him, you let out a frustrated sigh. Up until you fell asleep, if you weren’t thinking about your launch, you were thinking about him. If you weren’t thinking about the numbers from your last launch and the possibility of exceeding them, you were thinking of the way you felt and the words he said while you were in that intimate bubble before the horn honked at him. You had to take a couple melatonin gummies to shut your mind up and knock out. The sleep was amazing, the best you’d had in a while, but then when you were conscious again, Johnny was back.

You could have done without stepping into uncharted territory last night. To him, it may not seem as deep as you’re making it out to be, but there’s too much on the line for you. Your professionalism. Your pride. Your job, quite possibly. His job. You could pay him off if you decided to fire him, but you don’t want to deal with bribes making you feel like a shitty person. You don’t want a new assistant. You want Johnny.

At that very last thought, you pick up the phone and call Jaehyun to have him run the plan by you one more time. He thinks it’s because of his fuck up from before, and you just let him think that. 

Thankfully, Johnny is out of your way until later in the night. He didn’t try to accompany you on your walk, but he has no choice but to be here at the company outing taking place to celebrate your products selling out within 4 hours. 

All shots are on you, so your employees are taking advantage of this, recording  as everyone clinks their shot glasses together and downs the painful alcohol down. You’re two shots in and you mentally note that three is your limit for tonight. Maybe four. You’re already a bit of a lightweight, and there’s no way in hell you’re going to make a fool of yourself in front of your employees. Regardless, you’re having a pretty good time. As a gift, your best friend rented out the bar, so it’s empty save for your large group, and Joohyun’s presence is a godsend. She’s being friendly enough to your employees and for the most part she hasn’t left your side, being the comfort she doesn’t realize you need. 

“Congrats again, babe,” she says excitedly to you, pushing another shot in front of you as she scoots into the seat next to you. “Can we take that vacation in Bora Bora now that you’re free and even richer?” Her teasing smile makes you crack one of your own and sigh.

“You know that trip is for August. Be patient, Bae.”

She rolls her eyes but her expression doesn’t falter. Her gaze wanders a bit as she sips from her mixed drink and then she’s looking at you expectantly. You raise a brow to prompt her.

“How is it that all of your employees are hot as fuck?” she asks bluntly. “Even the women.”

You take a glance around like you don’t remember what everyone looks like. “I mean, I guess.”

“Especially a certain assistant.”

“Go for it,” you tell her, nodding in his direction. The said male is at the bar ordering something with his arm draped over Jaehyun’s shoulders, the two of them laughing about whatever the latter just said. 

“You know that’s not why I said that,” Joohyun scoffs, swatting at your arm. You may have mentioned to her a while ago that your assistant is very nice on the eyes and you sometimes enjoy watching him as he does his job. “Plus, Jaehyun’s more my type.”

You shrug. “I’m sure they’d be down for a threesome.”

Your best friend hits you once again. “What’s with your mood? You’re not acting like someone who just sold out in only a few hours.” 

Before she decided to bring a certain assistant up, you were doing pretty well. You’d been able to not look at him for too long or even have to speak to him much aside from a greeting and his congratulations before he was by Jaehyun’s side and Joohyun was by yours. But now, with him being mentioned, your eyes are having a hard time pulling away from his figure. His tie is loosened and the top few buttons of his shirt are undone. His sleeves are rolled up right under his elbows and show off the tattoo on his arm. 

You rip your eyes off of him and down your shot. Yeah, you’re thinking four.

Joohyun’s incredulous laugh brings your attention back to her. “You didn’t.”

“What?”

She leans into your side to whisper, “You’re in a mood because of Johnny?”

You side-eye her because you don’t like how quickly she read you, and her smile grows wide. 

“Oh, my—you slept with Johnny?!” she continues to whisper-yell.

“No,” you hiss. “I did not. But I could have and that’s the issue.”

“Not seeing the issue?” She’s always been the little devil on your left shoulder. “The only reason I brought him up is because I’ve noticed how often you have his attention when you’re not even in the same area. And I know the difference between a look of concern and a look of want. He’s got a good ratio of both going on.”

“Okay, Miss Couple’s Therapist,” you mutter. “You ever heard of conflict of interest?”

And that shuts her up. Only for a few seconds, though.

“All I’m saying is I know you’ve thought about it… and you’re probably thinking about it now,” she giggles, making it hard for you to keep glaring at her. “I’m just trying to help you understand that it wouldn’t be a bad thing if there is a mutual understanding between the two of you on what flies and what cannot and shall not happen regarding the matter. You’re both consenting adults and it’s obvious he’d be on his knees for you with the snap of a finger.”

You decide against telling her about last night’s situation nor do you let her know you’re considering her words. That you’ve been considering the whole thing for days. 

You change the subject instead, asking her about how her latest trip overseas went.

It lasts for only so long when Johnny and Jaehyun make their way over to your table. 

They greet the two of you and you give a nod, choosing now to be the perfect time to check your notifications, while Joohyun says, “Hey guys.”

“Why are you checking your phone when you should be enjoying your time?” Johnny asks right by your ear, his voice lacking excitement but instead low enough to almost make your thumb falter as you scroll. “Get off your phone and celebrate, please?”

You make the mistake of looking up. He’s too close to your face to use the music playing through the speakers in the bar as an excuse. His eyes don’t have their usual playful glint in them. They look down at you with a purpose, and you’re kind of embarrassed at how fast you comply with his request. You drop the device into your purse and zip it up for extra measures.

“Thank you,” he smiles. “I got this for you two, by the way.”

Johnny slides a plate of your favorite wings on the table.

“Aw thank you, Johnny,” Joohyun coos, shooting you an annoyingly smug glance. “Are you gonna sit with us?”

“Is that okay with you, boss?” Jaehyun asks after sharing a look with his friend.

“Have at it,” you smile tightly, gesturing to the seats across from you. While they make themselves comfortable, you steal your best friend’s shot and actively ignore the way she looks at you from the corner of her eye.

Joohyun and Jaehyun fall into conversation easily after she compliments the watch he’s wearing. You nibble on some celery, actively ignoring how Johnny’s still too close. He subtly squeezes your knee to get your attention, and when he’s got it, he tilts his head in the direction of the bar. 

“I drank enough,” you tell him with a shake of your head.

“It’s not about a drink. I would like to speak to you alone, please,” Johnny explains in a whisper. A tiny voice in your mind says hell no because of what Joohyun has put in your head, but the rational voice reminds you that he is your assistant and you can’t avoid him forever. 

You tell your best friend that you’re gonna get a drink and that you’ll be back, and when she notices Johnny getting up with you she nods with a whisper of a smirk on her lips all without breaking the conversation she’s having. 

“What’s up?” you ask once seated on a barstool, at least a few seats away from everyone else.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I was trying to make light of the situation and I took it too far. As for last night, it was wrong of me to make a proposition like, so I want to apologize for that, as well.”

You nod as he speaks, letting his words process in your brain. 

“I spoke out of line last night and gave you an opening, so that part was on me. I apologize and I hope we can move forward from it. Thank you for your apology.” You try to get up and make your way back to your table quickly, but Johnny gently grabs your hand until he knows you’ll stay in your seat. 

For a moment he wanted to just apologize so you can stop being distant with him and he can stop purposely avoiding you for your space, but your response rubs him the wrong way and now he doesn’t really want to drop it. He wants to talk about it because the topic clearly came up for a reason last night and he’s tired of denying how he feels towards you, especially now that he knows he’s not alone after a while of thinking there was no way in hell his little crush would even get him this far. 

“Can you not shut me out right now?”

You really don’t like his ability to see through you.

“I accepted your apology and gave you the one you deserved... how am I shutting you out?” you bullshit him anyway.

“I’m not gonna pretend that what happened last night didn’t happen. I can’t,” Johnny tells you honestly. “Can I speak to you as a friend instead of your employee for a moment?”

“I guess,” you shrug.

“As your friend, what I say cannot be held against me as your assistant.”

“Whatever, John. Go ahead.” 

“I want you,” he confesses, and there’s really no going back from here. “I am very attracted to you and when you spoke about wanting to be vulnerable and taken care of last night it only made me want you more. And if there’s anyone you can let your guard down with and that will take great care of you, it’s me, and you know this.”

All you can do is stare at him for a while. If you hadn’t had that conversation with Joohyun a while ago you would not still be in this seat, letting him know you’re truly considering his proposition. The dip in your gut at his confession confirms your feelings, but your brain and your body conflict. 

Can you separate business from pleasure in this instance? 

If you allow your desires to become reality and it’s nothing like what you imagined, you’d never be able to look at him the same, no matter how good he is at his job. You’d either have to fire him or become so distant he’d want to quit. Would a bribe really have to be offered for the well-being of your precious company? The thought alone rubs you the wrong way.

But if you’re being honest with yourself, you just know it wouldn’t be a bad experience because it’s Johnny. He’s calculated and good at anything that gets thrown at him. You truly believe him when he says he’d never disappoint you. But how will you go about seeing him five days a week without seeing him in a different light? You’re professional but there would definitely be a change in your dynamic.

“I adore you as my assistant, John,” you finally speak up after too long. “And I do consider you a friend. I just don’t want to compromise our relationship over lust.”

“It’s not just lust, though,” Johnny states. “I’m not in love with you or anything but I care about you and want to take care of you the way we both know you need and deserve.”

He’s saying all of the right things and it’s almost as if the universe is rubbing him in your face. Your control is slipping and you don’t like it. You would love to be taken care of. You crave it. Running a business right before the age of thirty comes with so much stress and bullshit and you haven’t been taken care of in years, at least not properly. You’re content with being single because you give yourself everything you need and you love having your own space, but it does get lonely sometimes. And you can’t do everything yourself, at least not to the extent you need. Your eyes scan down from his face to his hands and your resolve gets a little weaker. 

“I’m not going to push you, okay? I just had to let you know that I’m here to help you in many more ways than in the office and that if anything were to ever happen, my lips are sealed. I’d even sign a damn contract if that meant I could have you for just one whole day.”

“A whole day?” you ask before you can stop your curiosity from being known. 

“I can’t elaborate on that. I can talk to you as a friend all I want but I know that too much detail can fuck up my job if you’re not down and I’m perfectly content with my job right now.”

He’s so vague, yet he’s said just the right amount. It’s easy to imagine what exactly could be in store if you release your inhibitions and just agree, but it’s not that easy. And Johnny understands that.

“Just think about it, alright?” He requests, and you nod slowly. “What drink would you like?”

“I’ve already had four shots—”

“No one said it had to be alcoholic,” Johnny laughs. 

“Hello?” Johnny’s morning voice grumbles. 

“Okay.”

It’s quiet on the other end of the line for a while as Johnny wakes up and decodes your single word. When he understands, his smile can be heard through his next words.

“Would you prefer I go to you or you come here?”

“I’ll go to you.”

“How does noon sound?”

“Good,” you nod, even though he can’t see the movement.

“Alright. There’s a couple of questions I have before you come over, though,” he tells you, his voice suddenly a lot more serious than it was before.

“Okay, go ahead,” you sigh, curling into a ball on your sofa. 

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.” Of course you trust him. Johnny smiles at how quick your answer. “You know that.”

“Trusting me with your work and trusting me with your mind and body are completely different things,” he tells you matter-of-factly. “But yes, I did know. I just needed to ask.”

“I clearly trust you enough to be hours away from going to your place without thinking you’re gonna exploit or blackmail me.”

“And I appreciate it. As I said, I’ll sign a contract if you’re still in your head about it.” At the dismissive response you give him, he continues with his questions. “We’re not gonna be weird about this before, during, and especially after everything, right?”

“No, I won’t be weird,” you chuckle, knowing his ‘we’ translates to ‘you.’ “It would’ve took me way longer to give you an answer if I was still gonna be weird or standoffish.”

“What made you change your mind so quickly?”

You blink at the tree on the other side of your window blankly. It took less than a day to give him a response, and while he may have popped up in your dream last night, Joohyun was right. You want him and he’s not shy about letting you know how much he wants you in return, so why play this game of tiptoeing and faux unclarity?

“You’re asking too many questions now,” you deadpan. “I’ll see you later.”

The last thing you hear before you hang up is Johnny laughing quietly to himself, sounding endeared.

You’ve always been punctual, so when you knock on his door, it’s twelve on the dot. And Johnny was expecting this, with it only taking him a couple of seconds to unlock and open the door for you. 

“Hey,” he greets you with a smile and you immediately take in his appearance, having never been around Johnny in anything but formal wear. You take in how he looks in the comfort of his own home, his brown hair is parted down the middle in comparison to how he always has it pushed back, and his fitted white tee shirt and joggers are a stark difference from the button-downs and slacks he usually adorns around you. He looks good either way, you note. 

“Hey.” 

You walk past him into his home and take your shoes off, and while pleasantries are exchanged, it’s Johnny’s turn to give you elevator eyes. The grey color of your athletic wear draws attention to the curve of your ass and hips. Your hair isn’t in its signature style, but out and flowing about freely. When you turn back around to face him he notices you don’t have your typical red lipstick on, just a clear sheen covering your lips. He didn’t think you could look any better, but here he is, being proven wrong. 

You’re guided down a hallway and into his room, and the first thing you notice is a cute stuffed animal on his dresser. One you remember buying him for his birthday because that was his only request, seeing that it was limited edition.

“I still can’t believe you wanted this of all things,” you laugh fondly, picking it up and examining it.

“You gave me a budget and this fit in it,” Johnny shrugs, coming up behind you. His chest molds into your back naturally, causing you to look up from the plushie and up at him through the mirror in front of you. “There was no way in hell I was coming out of pocket for that myself when you were willing to spend big bucks on me.”

You relax into his chest, the vibration against your back a very pleasant feeling. “Touché.”

The last few days of building sexual frustration did nothing to prepare you for the suffocating blanket of tension that envelopes you once Johnny lifts your head up to the side and presses one of the gentlest kisses to your lips. Followed by another chaste one, and another until you find yourself chasing his lips.

“Feel free to bite into it when it becomes too much for you,” Johnny graciously offers in a whisper that tickles your lips.

You scoff, amused by his confidence. 

“I’m a grown ass woman,” you remind him. “I promise you there’s nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“And I’m gonna hold you to that.” He nods, using your own words against you. You’re turned around by his hands on your hips until you’re facing him. A moment of silent eye contact translate to him challenging you before his pretty, soft lips slowly slide in time with yours. 

The longer he kisses you, the more your body melts into his. You find yourself being pulled forward, him walking backwards. The kiss interrupted when he sits down at the foot of his bed, but then you’re pulled onto his lap, straddling him to resume it. A hand on the side of his face prompts him to deepen the kiss, and your mouth instantly opens when you feel his tongue brush against your bottom lip, the wet muscle minty when it touches your own and you curl yours around it to get an even better taste. 

Your hands find his hair as his own grip your ass, pulling a muffled whimper out of you. And then you’re flipped onto your back, legs falling apart to give Johnny freedom to stand. He swiftly takes his shirt off and then he’s interrupted by your palms glide up his abdomen. You’ve never felt small around practically anyone in your adult years, but with how he hovers over you, you feel tiny. You know he and Jaehyun have been going to the gym frequently, but at this angle, you can really appreciate just how big and broad he is.

Originally, you figured you’d give him the reign to do whatever he wanted and you’d bask in being a pillow princess for once in your life, but in the position you’ve found yourself in, with his print in your face, you drag your hands back south and tug his waistband down. 

Johnny just watches you silently until he understands you’re doing more than just assisting him with stripping. Your hand grabs hold of his semi (your mouth waters at how hung he is and you briefly wonder how you never noticed before), his sweatpants forgotten halfway down his thighs. The way your eyes have tunnel vision and you lick your lips tells him your plan. “You wanna suck my dick?” he asks anyway, making sure he accessed this correctly. 

Your eyes fly up to meet his gaze. “Yeah. You want me to?”

“You think I’d ever say no to you?”

His response goes straight in between your legs, so you focus your attention back on his dick, which has grown some during the time of your small interaction, and you might be a little more excited about this than you initially thought you’d be. 

You let spit fall from your mouth onto his tip, then spread it down with your hand. You flick your wrist up and down a few times and lean forward, licking a broad stripe up his shaft. At the deep exhale he releases, you glance up at him through your lashes, and the sight of him with his jaw tightened in anticipation makes you want to give him so much more, so you suck the tip into your mouth. 

Fingers move your hair behind your ear for you and if you still had any inhibitions at this point, they’re lost now. Your head bobs back and forth slowly as you continue to look him in his eyes; it’s hard to look anywhere else when you’ve never been looked at so intensely in this position. You gather spit on the tip of your tongue and spread it across his head, circling the wet muscle around it until he hums and you need to feel the weight of him back inside. 

“Tap my leg, okay?”

You furrow your brows at his words, but your silent question is answered when there’s a hand on the back of your head and the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat lightly as if in warning before his hips pull back then he’s back in your throat. Your hands come up to his thighs as he sets a slow pace to fuck your face, and when his head falls back the moment he realizes he can go as far as he wants, you close your eyes and prepare for the onslaught you know you’re about to take.

Johnny’s hips instantly pick up speed and roughness, and while he’s still in control of himself, he loses a bit of sanity. After a year of silent pining and thinking this would never happen, he’s fucking his boss's face, and of course, of fucking course you don’t have a gag reflex. 

You stick your tongue out flat to lick at the bottom of his shaft as he does the rest of the work and the feeling of spit bubbling out the sides of your mouth and making its way down your chin digs your fingers into his skin since you can’t clench your thighs together. Your hair is gathered for extra leverage, and the pull of your scalp is such a delicious feeling you moan helplessly just when your nose comes in contact with trimmed hairs. 

“Shit,” he hisses, picking his head back up to watch as he slows back down but thrusts in rougher. You clearly enjoy being used like this, spit traveling down your chin to the point of landing on your jacket and darkening the material. You’re a mess in the best possible way, and this is an image that will haunt his memory for a very long time. 

More of his resolve crumbles at the feeling of your hands curling around to his butt to press him even closer into you, even further down your throat. You haven’t even been touched, barely kissed, but you’re lightheaded and extremely aroused. While he contemplates if he should cum down your throat or wait until he’s buried in your pussy, you’re silently hoping he lets you taste him soon. 

Johnny drags his dick out of your mouth at an extremely slow pace, and how you wrap your lips around him and open your hooded, darkened eyes to look at him again shoots a shiver of pleasure up his spine. 

“Never would’ve thought,” he says around an amused exhale.

“Hm?” you prompt, releasing him with a loud pop. 

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. He grips his dick with his free hand and taps the tip on your awaiting tongue, amused and extremely turned on. Smearing fluids over your tongue and lips, he softly demands: “Play with your pussy for me.”

The smile you give him is a concoction of wicked and endearing. He releases your hair as you manage to wiggle out of your leggings. You soaked through your lace and leggings, you both notice, and Johnny stops you with a disapproving hum when you make a move to remove your panties as well. You squint, he laughs and shakes his head. 

“Over your panties.” You roll your eyes but listen nonetheless, slipping your hand in between your thighs. The material is extremely wet to the touch, and the slickness helps with making the friction pleasurable when your fingertips find your clit and begin rubbing circles. “Slowly.”

Johnny finds your huff of frustration adorable.

The tip of his dick taps your mouth again to gain your attention. You suck spit up to the front of your mouth, then your mouth is stretched wide once again, hand back in your hair. 

Having your throat fucked with the additional pleasure on your clit, even with the slow pace you’re forced to go at, has you practically whining, the sound going in and out as he goes in and out your mouth. That vibration only spurs Johnny to grip your locks tighter and thrust in deeper to feel as much as your mouth and throat offer. 

“You were made for this, huh?” 

“Mhm,” you affirm, eyes rolling back at the way he pulls your hair to tip your head back and get a different, much better angle. 

Johnny honestly didn’t expect you to submit so easily to him. The visual of your face all messy, eyes hardly opened to look into his eyes and hair out of place while touching yourself sparks that feeling in his lower abdomen.

 “You want me to cum in your mouth?” You hum again and even with a mouth full of dick you manage to smile. You’re getting what you wanted. “Don’t swallow it until I tell you to.”

It takes a few more strokes for Johnny to fulfill your wish. The moment his head falls back again you use your free hand to caress his balls, and that does it. He leaves the tip in so that his cum pools onto your tongue and strokes every drop out. The groan he lets out causes you to unintentionally swipe at your clit faster, but he’s distracted anyway.

“Let me see,” Johnny says after collecting himself and stepping back. You straighten your head so none slides down your throat and open your mouth wider for his inspection. He smiles in approval, wishing he could take a picture of the sight before him. “Swallow.”

You lick your lips and wipe away all the spit that traveled outside of your mouth with the sleeve of your jacket after doing so.

Johnny completely removes his pants before he leans down to kiss you again. His tongue languidly licks against the seam of your mouth for an entrance that you grant instantly. While it curls around your own and he gets a taste of himself, Johnny’s hand guides you to bend one leg and he caresses your outer thigh.

“Good?” Johnny asks for extra measure, lips just barely dragging across your cheek to press opened mouth kisses on your jaw. Your head automatically tilts to the opposite side to give him more real estate. You hum, your mouth a bit preoccupied with how your teeth have trapped your bottom lip. 

Your breath stutters at the gentle scrape of his teeth along the length of your neck after he unzips the high neck of your top to expose more skin. Whichever scent you chose to put on today has Johnny latched onto your neck for a while, kissing, licking, nibbling the skin to the point of your breath coming out a lot louder than before and the seat on your underwear getting uncomfortably wetter. You’re throbbing at this point and not being touched enough, so you claw at his sides and call his name quietly.

Johnny eventually spreads your legs more and maneuvers himself in between them. Both of your legs bend at the knee to accommodate his large build in the middle of them, and the hand that isn’t keeping himself propped up by your head kneads your hip. 

“You know how long I’ve been wanting to get you like this?”

“How long?” you prompt, voice hardly above a whisper.

“Since the day you gave me a tour of the building,” he admits and slowly rises until he’s up on his knees. 

“That’s a long time,” you respond lamely, hardly caring when your pussy is practically screaming at you to be touched. He raises a brow, and when he looks back up at your face, your lip is back in between your teeth. 

If he doesn’t touch you soon you might explode.

“I’ve wanted this for a while, too,” you decide to confess, hoping it gets you somewhere. And it does. It’s almost like you’re rewarded for it by Johnny walking back on his knees until he’s far enough to settle on his stomach, face barely inches away from the apex of your thighs. He subconsciously licks his lips at the smell of you. He’s been wanting to taste you for so long now, but he refrains himself because he sees how you’re affected by the lack of attention to your heat. He promised he’d take care of you and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. But not before breaking you. 

“Wish you would’ve told me sooner,” he eventually tells you after having you hold your breath for way too long.

“You know I couldn’t.” The way Johnny looks at you, attentive to every word that comes out of your mouth while he smoothly scoops your legs over his shoulders to wrap his arms around your thighs, makes you continue speaking. “Seems like everything fell into place, though.”

Johnny nods, rests his head on one of your thighs, and looks up at you, brown eyes still watching your mouth intently, as he unhooks one of his arms to push your right leg further to the side. His fingers are soon on your center, gliding up and down your slit, bumping into your clit with each pass. 

“I guess it did.”

Before you can reply, he adds more pressure behind his touch, and your hips just barely lift to get even more. The smile you get in return is attractive as all hell but annoying. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you or he’s just really enjoying himself. Either way, you’re getting more impatient by the second, if the way your hips rise to grind your core against his fingers again says anything. 

“Stay still for me, okay?” You almost pout because you need more, but you promised to give him total control of the situation and you’ve done well thus far, so you press your ass back into his comforter. “There you go.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing.

The light pressure on your clit is soon gone and then the zipper of your jacket gets dragged down all the way. “Take this off for me.”

Sitting up, you do as told. You toss it where your leggings had been dropped and now you’re presented in front of the awe-struck brunet in just your matching set of underwear. You figured you’d wear something nice under your clothes, both for Johnny’s pleasure and for your confidence, and with how Johnny’s eyes settle on the way your breasts are trying to burst out of your snug lacy bra, you know you chose well.

A hand slides up your torso to grab one of your breasts and squeeze it. Somewhere in the midst of him fondling your chest and pressing teasing, yet promising kisses on your inner thighs your eyes drift shut again as you bask in the pleasure. One of your own hands comes up from your side to slide under the cup of your unoccupied tit and pull at your nipple. 

The tip of Johnny’s tongue drags dangerously close to your annoying-still-clothed heat and your patience is shot. 

“John…”

“Yes?” 

“I need more.”

He has the audacity to hum and give your clit a kitten lick. “Do you?”

You huff, stuck between just pushing his face into your pussy or doing what he asks of you, but you promised, so you suck in a breath and give him what he wants.

“John,” you say again, almost whining. 

He doesn’t say anything, just continues to look at you expectantly. And when too much time goes by, it somehow hits you what he wants from you and you groan quietly to yourself.

“Please.”

“That was very convincing,” Johnny snorts. His nose glides across the inside of your thigh like he’s got all the time in the world. It tickles in the best way, but it’s nothing but teasing and you’ve been stimulated enough that if you go more than a couple of seconds more without his mouth giving you direct pleasure, you’ll go insane. So with a great amount of willpower, you try again.

“Johnny,” you whine, giving him your best pout. Addressing him so informally feels foreign, but the way his eyes light up encourages you to keep going.“Please?”

And of course a big smile takes up half of his face and you mentally prepare yourself for what’s next to come. He peels your panties off, both of you watching the line of slick that stretches then breaks in the process, and when you spread your legs even more for him, his mouth salivates. 

Johnny makes sure you’re looking into his eyes as his tongue licks a wide stripe from your entrance to your clit. He wants to be smug at the gasp you let out, but the taste of you shuts his ego up quickly. 

You squeak when you’re suddenly flipped onto your stomach and your ass is lifted up into the air. With yet another broad lick to coat his taste buds with your essence, Johnny buries his face in your pussy. He uses the tip of his tongue to collect the puddle of wetness you’ve produced and smears it over your clit, soon digging  inside to directly stimulate the bundle of nerves. 

Johnny’s lips close around your clit and he sucks on it softly. As the moments pass he gradually sucks harder to the point of you not being able to fight the way your eyes flutter shut and hips push back. He’s nice about the movement, just grabbing your hips to keep you still, soon caressing and kneading. 

“Mm, that feels good,” you compliment. At that very moment, Johnny decides to roll his tongue in up and down motions and apply more pressure behind his hands. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

He prompts you with a hum of his own. 

With how your moans start to get louder and your breath gets quicker and harder, not to mention the tingles you feel building in intensity, you know you’re already close. It’s a beautiful yet frustrating feeling because you don’t want this to end so soon after waiting so long. But you also want him inside of you so bad now.

Johnny comes back up to circle your entrance, and then he goes even higher.

“Are you— fuck,” you groan deeply. 

Your hands grip the pillow your face is buried in and your eyes have found the back of your head again. Johnny just hums at the way you react, the octave of your voice as you let out your sounds of pleasure go straight to his dick. His tongue licks filthily up and down, not leaving an inch untouched nor missing a drop of your juice. His fingers rub your entrance until he slides one in. One becomes two after a few pumps, then his thumb presses into your clit and your back is arched almost uncomfortably.

“Johnny,” you whine again, breath hiccuped. 

“Yes?” he prompts, lifting his head and looking up to see your face peaking around your body, smushed into his pillow still. 

“I wanna cum,” you tell him. It feels too good now. “Fuck, I need to come, Johnny.”

“Then cum for me.” His voice is so gentle yet commanding as his digits speed up. He tongues the skin between your holes sloppily and you try to curl into yourself, your mouth wide opened with no sound coming out of it, your walls clenching madly around the fingers inside of you, and your grip on the cushion is borderline painful.

Johnny helps you ride out your orgasm for as long as possible until your body begins shuddering due to oversensitivity. He gradually slows down to a stop, then removes himself from your body to let you breathe correctly. While he sucks on his fingers, he uses his clean hands to soothingly rub your back, waiting for you to calm back down. 

You’re a bit dazed during the transition of more kissing that leads you on top of him, straddling him once again. You vaguely remember the caresses on your waist or the pinch of his fingers playing with your nipples, but the feeling of your bare pussy dragging against his dick is very memorable because it sparks a desperate need within you to sit on it. 

Johnny’s hands on your hips move you to continue the friction, moving you back and forth on his dick easily. Foreheads connected as you catch your breath from the kiss you just broke away from, the two of you watch silently as his head reappears and disappears behind your lips, turning you both on until he’s fully hard again and you can’t handle him not being inside of you anymore.

You lift up on your knees to align his tip with your entrance. A silent look is exchanged where you ask and he nods once. He lets you take your time, enjoying the feeling of his tip directly rubbing against your sopping entrance.

Your labored breaths at the sensation bring his attention to your chest, and his mouth wraps around a nipple without a thought. By now, you deem his dick wet enough to press his head in your hole and press your hips down. The moment he slides in your head falls back because the stretch burns in the best way. It feels like time doesn’t exist as you work your way down his length, inch by inch. Your hips naturally find a slow rhythm as you lift and drop them to take in more until he slides in and out easily. 

When your features no longer show discomfort, Johnny begins moving with you. Every time he lifts his hips up a little to meet your thrusts his body slumps down the headboard. His hands are loose on your waist as you move your body up and down and he’s got the perfect view of his dick going in and out of your core while you’re controlling the pace and intensity. The muscles in your thighs start to burn, so you slow down to a stop and carefully slide your way down until your clit comes in contact with his pubic bone, resulting in your eyes rolling back, hips grinding on their own accord. 

“How the fuck do you feel this good?” Johnny groans deeply, hands gripping your ass to assist your movements.

His compliment, his hungry, intense gaze as they take you in from your eyes—which mirror his own—down to the trail of slick you’ve left behind on his tamed curls from the swivel of your hips, and the way his cock rubs against your g-spot send you over the edge within moments. Johnny soothingly rubs a cheek with one hand while the other caresses your arched spine, keeping his hips still to let you ride your orgasm out on your own. 

You slump into him, head on his shoulder, panting against his neck. A sigh of content slips out when Johnny hugs you tightly against his broad chest right before asking, “You alright?”

“Great,” you reply breathlessly. 

Johnny smiles at the positive response. He lifts his hips experimentally and gauges your reaction, which is a satisfied hum. 

“You want more?” he asks, hands moving to your hips to carefully grind against him. How could you say no? “Hands and knees, baby.”

You begin climbing off to the side of him then he follows your lead and lifts himself up so you can settle on your knees and bend until your face slides onto his pillow. Your hands grab the sides of it in anticipation. 

A deep groan sounds from behind you, so you crane your neck and see the way he stares down at how he can see everything you have to offer him at this moment. One hand goes to his dick while the other massages one of your cheeks. He runs the swollen tip of his dick along your slit, collecting what’s oozed out. You close your eyes and relax the side of your face into the cushion beneath it and take a breath, preparing yourself for the stretch and intensity this angle never fails to bring.

He slowly starts to breach your entrance. There’s a pause, then you hear him spit down before more of him slips inside of you inch by inch with each roll of his hips. He keeps his movements shallow for a while and your walls reaccept him easily. A particular thrust sends him deep inside of you, his tip just barely kissing your cervix. Your body’s first instinct is to run away from it. His hands on your hips stop you from fleeing, holding you still and rubbing the skin there to ease you. 

“I won’t go too deep,” he tells you, hips still as he kisses up your spine and makes you dizzy by the tenderness of it all. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You nod at his promises and take another steadying breath, then the pleasurable friction is back. You’d believe anything he told you with that intoxicating voice of his. 

A loud, embarrassing squelch comes out of your core when he’s sheathed inside that makes you bury your face into the pillow. There’s one last kiss at the top of your spine before the body heat from his chest is gone and he’s back upright. He finds his rhythm easily, and hands return to your backside, fingers digging into the flesh, no doubt leaving behind white imprints. He uses his grip as leverage to fuck down into you at a different angle that allows him to speed up and rip an unrestrained moan from your throat. 

“You okay?”

You nod violently and sob, “Yes! Oh, my god, yes.”

Content, Johnny hums and you just know he’s grinning down at you by the sound of his voice when he asks: “Feels good?”

“So good,” you whine, unable to close your mouth or stop noises from coming out of it. You begin dropping your hips down to meet his thrusts, the loud smacks of skin against skin echoing and bouncing off of the walls of his room. “Fuck it feels so good, Johnny.”

“I know, baby” he groans. “And this pussy feels so fucking good—shit.”

The two of you get lost in the rhythm you’ve created and no more words are exchanged for a while, just the sound of groans that comes deep from Johnny’s throat and whines and pants that make you drool all while drying your throat out. The room has gotten increasingly hotter and your bodies now shine with a thin, sticky sheen that makes the back of your thighs stick to the front of his own every time he fucks back into you. Your sensitive nipples rub harshly against the sheets, stimulating you even further to the point of another sob ripping out of your throat and your walls fluttering around his girth. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Your divulgence prompts him to reach his arm under you to graze his fingertips over your engorged clit and then you’re repeating your words over and over again until your actions meet your words and you’re cumming all over him. Your essence drips down the insides of your thighs and his balls and his thrusts create wetter, louder noises. A swivel of your hips causes his dick to pop out and suddenly your body is vibrating. 

“There you go, baby,” Johnny praises you, sliding back into you and precisely hitting that spot within you a few more times until your pussy clenches again and he pulls out again, letting more wetness spray the sheets under you. 

“Look at you,” he continues with a deep chuckle. “Making such a big mess.”

You don’t know if he really meant for you to look but your curiosity gets the best of you and you lift your head and look in between your legs. There’s a dark puddle on his sheets and another whine leaves your body, your head falling back into the pillow. 

“Can you handle more?” Johnny asks you softly, slapping the top of your asscheek with his dick. 

You need more. You don’t know what the hell Johnny has done to you and your body but you feel empty and not satisfied enough. Your core is raw at this point but you want nothing more than to feel the velvety skin of his thick, long dick sliding in and out of you and hitting every spot in you that makes your body convulse again. 

“Please,” you beg, wagging your hips to emphasize your needs. “Please, Johnny.”

“I’ve got you begging now?” He sounds so turned on yet taken aback, another dark laugh vibrating your body at the nod of your head and movement of your body. If you were in your right mind, you would be ashamed of your behavior and submission to your assistant, but you’re not. And who cares when you’ve never felt this way before and crave to feel even more?

“I need it,” you confess without shame. “Need you back inside of me.”

Johnny doesn’t need any more convincing to be back, deep within you and instantly satisfying you again. Your breath stutters and it’s not easy to speak in coherent sentences, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to voice your pleasure and appreciation to the brunet whose self-control only continues to dissolve the faster he slams into you and the higher your voice gets.

Both of your breath patterns get quicker, loud, more erratic, signaling the approach of his first release and your third? Fourth? You can’t keep up with it when your brain has turned into mush and you can barely remember your own name, only his own registering in your brain. His name rolls off of your tongue like a mantra, driving him insane behind you. 

“Where do you want me to cum?” he pants. It takes you too long to swallow in an attempt to lubricate your throat and answer him, Johnny humming in question impatiently. 

“My back,” you manage to squeak out. You’re impressed with the amount of control he has, the slamming of his hips into your ass somehow speeding up and getting rougher. Johnny lacks the control and precision from before, and the way his tip kisses your cervix rips a yell out of you, eyes watering as you hold on for dear life. He releases a drawn out groan from deep within, and not too long later you feel ropes of cum land on your lower back and ass.

Your body is shaking. Tears leak out of your eyes, your breath is hard to catch, and quiet cries come out. You’re gently flipped over and pulled into strong arms, quickly finding comfort in the chest you settle into. 

“You’re okay, baby,” Johnny’s soft voice says to you, but you can’t open your eyes or your mouth to acknowledge him. You’re confused about why you’re reacting to this, but you don’t dislike it. Especially when you have Johnny to soothe you and help you calm down. “Are you hurting anywhere?” 

You shake your head and finally try to respond, but it takes a couple of coughs and harsh swallows of spit to do so. “No. I feel good. Everywhere.”

Your speech is choppy, unlike your usual way of speaking, but stringing words into sentences that flow well is too much work right now. Johnny doesn’t mind; he loves that he had that effect on you after you’ve had him under your spell for so long. He loves the fact he successfully kept his promise to you and now you’re boneless in his arms. 

He reaches for the glass of water on his nightstand and hands it to you. “Are you ready for a bath?”

“Can I fall asleep in the bath?” you ask, wiping your face tiredly.

“Sure,” Johnny says softly before setting you down on the dry part of the bed. “I’ll come get you once it’s ready.”

That’s how the rest of the day plays out, you getting taken care of in multiple ways. Your favorite method is with his tongue and fingers as he made out with your pussy for what felt like hours in lieu of an apology for going so hard. And maybe Johnny purposely falls asleep next to you after you’re bathed, fed, and exhausted from coming, curled up into his side in the new sheets because he wants you to stay a little longer. There’s no way in hell he’ll ever get to see this side of you again after today.

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you. It’s eight in the morning the following Monday, and he’s got your avocado toast and fruit in his hands as he walks up to your desk.

You're rummaging through your bag looking for the bobby pins you threw inside of it this morning in your rush to get to work on time because believe it or not, you overslept. You give up in favor of looking up to greet him back, but your voice decides not to come out when your eyes lock with his. There hadn’t been any contact since you woke up in the middle of the night and he walked you to his door with a lingering kiss that quite literally took your breath away to close out the short chapter of your relationship you’d just created. You were still tired, but you definitely were not supposed to sleep over, so it was nothing. 

But now, seeing the same eyes that stared into your own while you came and cried his name multiple times, all you can do is blink. And then he licks his pretty lips. You knew this would happen. You’re not mad at it, though. How could you be when you’d never experienced someone like him before? In hindsight, there was no possible way to go back to normal after the intimacy, tenderness, and raw attraction you shared that day. No possible way to never want another taste. 

“You okay?” he asks unsurely, setting your plates down. 

And here it comes.

“Johnny,” you say lowly, setting your bag down. The quirk in his brow and the corner of his mouth lets you know he’s onto you. And that just makes things easier for you. “Lock the door.”

yikesssssss

[pintsizemama]

Building a Snowman

Day 12

Welcome to the 2021 Christmas Writing Challenge! Big thank you to Steph (@toomanystoriessolittletime) for putting this together!!!

Summary: You build a snowman with Will and Frankie…Will gets on your nerves.

Pairings: Frankie Morales x Will Miller x Reader, Frankie Morales x Will Miller x You

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Rating: Mature 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1,178

Warnings: language, polyamorous relationship, fighting, reference to drug use and sex…Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: A request from @evyiione for my 400 Follower Celebration.

Day 11 Day 13 Christmas Masterlist Triple Frontier Masterlist Main Masterlist AO3 Join my taglist

“No, not like that!” Will called out to you. You huffed and rolled your eyes. You, Will, and Frankie were on vacation. Well, really it was more than a vacation. You were celebrating. Not only was it almost Christmas, but Frankie had finally gotten his pilot’s license back and had been clean for over a year. Will suggested you all go somewhere cold and snowy for a change. Florida was great and all, but it never felt like Christmas when it was eighty degrees outside.

You woke up this morning with two gorgeous men wrapped around you and a smile on your face. After breakfast you had suggested going outside to build a snowman. Looking back, you had no idea why you were that stupid to make such a suggestion. Will was sucking all the fun out of it with his perfectionism.

“What did I do wrong now?” You asked in exasperation.

“The smaller ball goes on top,” Will explained calmly. “It’s big on bottom, medium in the middle, small on top.”

“Says who?” You pouted, your hands on your hips.

“Says everyone who’s ever made a snowman,” Will laughed.

“Ugh!” You huffed. Will was frustrating the shit out of you. You just wanted to have fun with your boys in the snow, but Will had to make sure everything was perfect and precise. Frankie came up behind you and wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Deep breaths, baby girl,” he murmured into your ear. “You know how he gets. Just let it go.” You sighed and relaxed against Frankie. You didn’t want to ruin the good mood.

“I know,” you sighed. “Sorry I’m being so grumpy.” Frankie kissed your wind chilled cheek.

“No worries, hermosa,” he whispered. You helped him gather more snow to make the middle section of the snowman. You were setting it into place on top of the larger ball when Will corrected you yet again.

“That’s not round enough,” he deadpanned. “It’s supposed to be a ball, not…whatever the hell that is.”

“Really?” You barked out, losing your patience once more.

“Querida,” Frankie warned in a low tone. You took a deep, calming breath in.

“Right,” you sighed. “Sorry, Will. We’ll make it more round.” Will smiled and went back to what he was doing. You kept glancing over at him. His back was to you, so you had no clue what he was up to. You quietly walked up to him and peered over his shoulder.

“Oh my god!” You practically screeched. “Are you actually using a fucking tape measure right now?” Will’s head whipped around, shock on his handsome face.

“Fucking hell,” he growled. “You scared the shit outta me.”

“That’s it,” you threw your hands up in surrender. “I give up. I am not making a snowman with Bob Villa over here.” You stormed away from him.

“What’s the matter?” Frankie asked.

“He’s measuring the snowman, Frankie,” the pure horror in your tone and face said it all. You were insulted that he was taking fun so seriously. “I can’t do this. I just wanted to have some fun and make a snowman. Not make artwork worthy of the Louvre.”

“I’m sorry that I want it to actually look good,” Will said angrily.

“Who fucking cares what it looks like?” You shouted. “We’re the only ones here!”

“I fucking care!” Will shouted back.

“Well, fuck you!” You called out, turning to go back to the house.

“C’mon, querida,” Frankie stopped you. “Don’t be like that.”

“Frankie,” you whined. “He’s taking all the fun out of it!” Frankie sighed exhaustedly. Sometimes he felt like he was dealing with toddlers instead of his partners.

“Why don’t you each make your own snowman?” He suggested.

“Sounds good to me!” Will grit out.

“Perfect!” You barked. “And Frankie will help me since we’re obviously too big of fuck ups to touch your precious masterpiece!” Will started forward, a thunderous look on his face.

“Reign it in,” Frankie said in a low, commanding voice. Will very rarely lost his cool, but you somehow managed to get under his skin like no one else…well, maybe Benny could, but you definitely were better at it than his little brother.

Will stopped walking and clenched his fists at his sides. You could see him putting his walls back up. Rebuilding that ironclad control and calm he always exuded. He let out one, long frustrated breath, and then he was back to the calm, collected Will you knew so well.

“Have fun building your snowman,” he said calmly. He turned and went back to work. You stared after him, shaking your head in disgust.

“Alright, troublemaker,” Frankie said, “let’s build this fucking snowman.” You sighed and started all over again, building the snowman the way you wanted to. Frankie and you laughed and tossed snow at each other as your worked. It was light and carefree and fun—exactly what you had wanted when you suggested you all do this together. You glanced over at Will and saw him measuring the space between coal buttons. You shook your head, but you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out. Despite how annoying it could be, you loved Will’s precision. He did nothing half assed. Always gave a hundred and ten percent. You admired that about him…and your body was very grateful for it too. You sighed, angry at yourself. You felt bad for how you had blown up at him. Will hadn’t been trying to ruin your day. He was just being Will, and you loved him.

You stepped back and surveyed your finished snowman…maybe snowman wasn’t the right term for what you and Frankie had created.

“Well, that looks like a goddamn monster,” Frankie laughed.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” you giggled. Will came over to look at your handiwork.

“Well, that’s certainly an interesting take,” he said quietly. You looked over at his snowman and gasped.

“Oh, my god, Will!” You breathed. “It’s…fucking perfect.” It was. It looked like a fucking magazine cover or something. “It’s beautiful.” Will smiled proudly.

“I think I like yours better,” he said honestly.

“What?” You asked in shock. “Are you high or something? Ours is a fucking shitshow. Yours is gorgeous.”

“Yours is…well, it’s you,” he said a bit shyly.

“Are you saying I’m a monster and a shitshow?” You asked, cocking one eyebrow.

“No,” Will laughed. “It’s fun and unique and doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks…just like you and Frankie.”

“Yours is just like you too,” you said softly. “Perfect and poised and everything I dreamed of.” Will took a deep breath as your words flowed through him.

“I’m sorry I was an asshole,” you whispered.

“I’m sorry I was an asshole,” Will replied.

“Well I forgive you both,” Frankie laughed. You chuckled and pulled both your boys to you in a hug.

“I’m freezing,” you muttered.

“Let’s make hot chocolate,” Will offered.

“How about we fuck in the hot tub instead?” Frankie suggested.

“Both,” you agreed eagerly. “Definitely both.”

Day 13

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[incomingalbatross]

GF Fic: (Insert Time-Related Pun Here)

Having a birthday on the last day of summer was great when you were a kid.

When you were in college and vacation ended somewhere in the last third of August? Not so much.

“Grunkle Ford, I...I don’t think Mabel and I can make it to Gravity Falls,” Dipper confessed, the day before his twenty-second birthday.

“Is it the travel time?” Ford asked from the other end of the phone. “If your usual transportation is too slow, we can call in a favor or two for you kids—I know plenty of entities that would be happy to give you a lift as a birthday present—”

“No, I know, I know,” Dipper said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “And I really appreciate that, Grunkle Ford, I just...it’s not the travel, it’s being there. The other years we’ve been in college, our birthday was always on a weekend—last year was a Monday, but we spent that year with you guys instead of in school—”

“Thank goodness that seer tipped us off about her vision of 2020!” Ford agreed. “Taking a gap year to sail the Arctic with us was definitely the right decision for you two.”

“Right? Half a semester of online classes was more than enough. But—I mean, maybe it’s being back in school after being gone for a year, maybe it’s just early-semester problems, but...” Dipper sighed. “It’s just, I’m taking five classes, and I’ve got a TA job this year, and I’m getting back into the DD&MD group again and maybe planning to DM a oneshot as a Halloween event, and...” He sighed again. “It all looked much more manageable on my schedule. It was color-coded and everything!”

Grunkle Ford hummed noncommittally.

“Yeah, I know,” Dipper admitted. “Not the first time I’ve overbooked myself.”

“Not quite, perhaps. But it’s very good that you’re learning to recognize it and take steps to take care of yourself—when I was in college, I burned out routinely.”

“Mabel would sic the ‘Self-Care Fairy’ on me again if I didn’t learn.” The “Self-Care Fairy” was a truly terrifying onslaught of Mabelness, complete with costume and character voice, and would not go away until its subject had reached an acceptable level of well-being and had examined their mistakes. “Which is why...I have to cancel. If I came to Gravity Falls, even with instant travel, I’d only be able to get there around like 5:00 PM and I’d be stressed and anxious the whole time. And then I’d get back here exhausted and with no homework done and with class tomorrow, and...I just don’t think I can afford that.” Dipper paused, a knot twisting in his stomach. “I’m really sorry, I wish we could come...”

“Of course, Dipper, we know you do!” Grunkle Ford hastened to assure him. “Don’t feel sorry for us—of course we’d love to see you, but we just had the summer together. I’m just sorry you’re so short on time.” There was a moment’s silence.

“But how is Mabel doing? Is she facing the same challenges?”

“I mean, sort of.” Dipper smiled ruefully. “She kept trying to figure out some solution so that we could have our usual birthday and everything would work out, but...neither of us could come up with anything that would actually work. And she’s really busy too. She jumped back into school full steam ahead, and she’s got her Etsy store, and all her social groups to keep up with—you know she’s better at managing her energy than I am, but it’s still a lot.”

“I understand that,” Ford said. “You both do what you need to to keep up with your responsibilities, okay? We’re very proud of you both, you know.”

Dipper swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I know, Grunkle Ford.”

“Well, then, I’ll let you go—I imagine you have plenty to do right now! We’ll get in touch with you tomorrow, even if only by text.”

“Thank you, Grunkle Ford! Mabel and I are going to video-call at some point, we think, so there’s that. Say hi to Stan and Soos and Melody and the kids and everyone for me?”

“Of course, my boy. Have a good evening.”

“You too.”

The call disconnected, and Dipper sighed, throwing himself down on his bed. After a minute, he picked up his phone again and texted Mabel.

Just called Ford and canceled plans. He said to take care of ourselves and that he and Stan are proud of us.

Then he pushed himself into the homework for tomorrow until his phone buzzed.

Aww, of course he did. <3 Thanks for calling, brobro. I wish we could go, but you were right--I’ve got WAY too much booked. Why didn’t we check what weekday our birthday was FIRST???

Dipper snorted. Maybe we’re dumb :/

IMPOSSIBLE, Mabel sent back. Clearly an evil College Schedule Gremlin messed with our brains

Is that the same guy who makes it so you can never take the prereqs you need when you need them?

Yep!! And the one who fogs your brain so you THINK you’ve filled all your requirements until it’s too late to patch up the holes in your plan. His phone buzzed a second time after that text. ...Ugh, maybe there ARE gremlins in all the college systems

It would explain Blackboard, Dipper agreed with a frown. Huh, maybe they should look into that...

Anyway, though, u good for Zoom tomorrow?

Dipper huffed, reminded of the fact that they had no time for a paranormal investigation right now. Yeah, he typed, I can do an hour or so anytime after 5:30.

Cool, I will figure out a time and let you know!! Can’t wait to see your 22-year-old face!! :) Even if it sucks that we can’t party :(

Same, same. TTYL :)

Dipper tossed his phone aside again, shutting his eyes for a minute. It wasn’t just the party that had him down—though he would miss the bash that Gravity Falls usually threw on their birthday. It was...everything.

It was having a birthday without Mabel.

Oh, sure, they would talk, but they wouldn’t be in the same place. That was why, really, he’d hung onto their plans until the very last minute. He’d made it work on paper—taking an evening to travel to Gravity Falls, have a party, and be back in time for the next class—and it just felt wrong to admit defeat, to compromise on something this important. Their birthday meant the two of them celebrating together, having a good time, acknowledging that it was important.

This year wasn’t going to feel like a birthday at all, Dipper thought glumly.

But no, that was quitter talk. They were going to do their best anyway, because they were the Mystery Twins! Even if the situation was lame. Even if he was going to spend his time on the call with Mabel tomorrow doing homework and/or bursting with stress.

He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. “Why do I always overfill my schedule?” he asked plaintively.

The ceiling didn’t answer.

---

Dipper dropped his backpack with a thud on his dorm room floor, hastily unzipping it and digging out his laptop. He was late—he’d left his thermos in his last classroom, and been halfway across campus before he realized and turned around to go get it. He blamed his sleep deprivation (a week in, and his body still hadn’t readjusted to the rhythm of morning classes).

Now, though, he could finally pull up Zoom. He plugged in his headphones as he waited for it to connect (stupid dorm wifi), and was rewarded with an ear-splitting squeal.

“Happy birthday, Dipper!”

He grinned at her beaming face. “Happy birthday, Mabel!”

“Did you get a birthday cupcake?” she demanded. “Or at least a birthday cookie?”

He grimaced. “I got ice cream at the cafeteria, but I had to eat it there,” he confessed. “Here, I’ve got...a birthday candy bar?”

“Hmph.” Mabel looked crestfallen, but plastered a smile on anyway. “It’ll have to do! We can sing Happy Birthday, anyway. One, two, thr—”

Before they could launch into an inevitably out-of-sync rendition of “Happy Birthday,” Dipper heard a loud knock. Judging by Mabel’s startled turn towards her door, she heard it too—

Wait, what?

The knocking repeated. On both their doors.

“..Huh,” Mabel said thoughtfully. With a wordless glance between them, they both unplugged their headphones and went to their respective doors.

“Happy birthday, slugger!” Stan said, grinning, the instant he saw Dipper. Over the internet, Ford’s voice was greeting Mabel at the same time.

Dipper’s jaw dropped.

“Ha!” Grunkle Stan shoved past him into the room. Waving to the camera, he added, “Happy birthday, sweetie!”

Ford peered past Mabel into the screen. “Happy birthday, Dipper, my boy!”

“But—what—”

“Grunkles!” Mabel cried. “...But wait, why not just video call us? Not that we’re not happy to see your wrinkly faces, but you came such a long way!”

“Yeah, exactly,” Dipper said, waving his arm in confusion. “You guys—you know we can’t really visit, right? Even with you with us? We don’t have time. I dont want you guys to waste a trip—”

“But we didn’t,” Ford said smugly. “We came to bring your birthday presents.”

With a flourish, Stan produced something and handed it to Dipper. It looked like...a piggy bank, but with a clock face set into the side?

Mabel gasped. “It’s so CUTE!”

“But what is it, Grunkle Ford?” Dipper asked.

“Simply put, my boy...it’s time.”

“It’s a Time-Savings Bank,” Stan said proudly. “Got our hands on these babies a few months ago, on a little side trip. See, when you’ve got some extra time—like, at night, or when you’re waiting for a pot to boil, or whatever—you can use these gizmos to store it up instead! Then when you need more time, you use the clock to take it back out. Whammo! You squeeze in a few extra hours between the normal ones.”

“Like Daylight Saving Time without the false advertising,” Ford added. “We know you two are short on time right now, but...if you’d like, there’s enough in here to give you and everyone currently at the Mystery Shack a good few hours of spare time. What do you say, kids? Still up for a party?”

“Are we!” Mabel crowed.

Dipper stared at this miraculous device. “But...that’s a lot of hours,” he said. “Where did you get the time?”

Stan barked out a laugh. “You kiddin’, Dipper? We figured from the start that at least one of you would burn out when you went back to school. We’ve been putting time aside in these things for months.”

“...Really?” Dipper said. Somehow, he found himself blinking rapidly, and swallowing down some obstruction in his throat.

Stan coughed uncomfortably, looking away. “I mean, it’s not like we gave you any time we had a use for. Just some odds and ends here and there...every day... Anyway! You kids wanna get this show on the road?”

“YES!” Mabel shouted.

Dipper beamed. “Definitely,” he said. “Absolutely.”

And a few minutes later, when they all found themselves in the Shack (courtesy of one of those “favors” Ford had mentioned yesterday), and Dipper had piled into the inevitable group hug with his twin and his grunkles—and with hours of birthday celebration in front of them all—he had to add, “Best present ever.”

[heartofspells]

5SOS5 came out today, so I want to recommend the song “Older” for James and Lily (or Wolfstar, the song has an interesting perspective when applying it to ships from the Marauders’ era)

So I spent a lot of time this morning going through this album, because while 5SOS has never really been a go-to thing for me, I'm always open to every band and new albums until I figure out if I like what they've put out or not. So welcome to my review (that you did not ask for, but i'm on vacation, so this is what's happening now). And since you brought it up, we're going to add in ships/characters from the perspective of these songs, at least the way I see them.

So this album isn’t necessarily my thing. It's a bit too 'pop' for my tastes most times. I have to be in the right mood and headspace for something like this. HOWEVER, I did find songs I liked, and I can relate almost all of them back to fandom. It's sort of like listening to folklore all over again, which is interesting.

COMPLETE MESS - The song itself is okay, but I'd like not listen to it again. But I definitely get major Wolfstar vibes from it, because if you go by what we know from canon about what happened during the First War with the distrust, it fits pretty well.

Easy for You to Say - Good song; great lyrics. Again, likely won't actively seek it out for another listen, but the Regulus feels I get from it are strong. I keep seeing him around the time Sirius left and after. I've always had this idea that Sirius maybe tried to get Regulus to run with him, that he tried to 'save' his brother from the oppression of their family, and Reg wouldn't. So there's Reg, all alone, now the heir, something he doesn't want but feels he has to live up to. He's being pushed towards the side he agrees with but also doesn't, warring with himself, seeing and hearing Sirius in everything he does. And ugh.

Bad Omens - I actually like this one a lot. It sucked me in, which is nice. And this album gives me a lot of First War vibes, so once again I'm relating this back to Wolfstar, specifically from Remus' pov (or alternatively, possibly Jegulus as they lead towards what we know as canon)

Me, Myself, & I - Eh. Not my favorite. But I suppose it could give Sirius vibes from certain perspectives, but I'm finding Peter in it, with all his betrayal and what I've always felt was maybe a struggle over what he'd done to someone (James) who had always been there for him after everything happened.

Take My Hand - This one was great! I love the lyrics in it and the mental pictures it paints. And I see James in this one, as the war is building, as things begin to slip away and through his fingers as he tries to hold them so tightly but it's just not enough.

CAROUSEL - I have mixed feelings, but I think I like it. Once again, the lyrics are fantastic and they really capture something. But I think I like it because I relate it to Sirius. And I'm not even going to elaborate on that. It's just a Sirius song.

Older - Soooo...not my favorite. I've actually listened to this before because I saw something about it, and it's sort of eh to me. It tells a good story, I won't deny that. And yes, the Jily vibes are phenomenal (also Wolfstar). It could honestly relate to almost any relationship happening during the First War era (like Dorlene, for example).

HAZE - Not one of my favorites, but I see Sirius in this again. Specifically, his relationship with James (platonically, for my perspective, because i just can't with the prongsfoot of it, i'm sorry).

You Don't Go to Parties - I. Love. This. Yes, yes, yes! The lyrics are just aldksjfalkjf. And this is Wolfstar. Could be from Remus' pov as Sirius begins to pull away during the First War, but I'm seeing it more from Sirius' as Remus disappears to the werewolves more and more and Sirius has no idea what he's doing, as that distrust begins to mount higher and higher even as he struggles with all those emotions and feelings he still has.

BLENDER - LOVE LOVE LOVE. And again, Wolfstar (when it reached the 'howling at the moon' line i was sunk).

Caramel - This one might be my favorite, honestly. I love the entire feel of it. And while I'm not all that into them (though i'm beginning to come around and starting to consider seeking them out a little more) I'm getting strong Jegulus vibes from this, just from what I've seen and know about how they're approached in fandom, and my own little views I've steadily taken on. Imagine them, together, the war mounting, things are leading in a canon direction, James pulls back and gravitates to Lily. And there's Regulus just sort of drifting between everything else, waiting to see how it all plays out.

Best Friends - This one is fine. Not the best song for me, but I like it okay. But it's definitely a Marauders song to me (mainly from James' pov and applied to Sirius more than the others, but they're there).

Bleach - Don't. I can't. This is just...painful. I love everything about it, but it hurts. It sinks me right back into The Demons We're Made of and Unbreak the Broken. Remus pov after everything started to fall apart and the aftereffects of it all. I cannot. Don't make me go there again. That thing broke me and it's still breaking me. I can't think about it too much.

Red Line - Yes, this. Just this. I love everything about it. And it's Wolfstar again (could also relate to Jegulus if you want to take it that route).

Moodswings - This one is right up there with Caramel and Bleach for me. It gets me in that deeply hurtful place. And this is a Sirius song, at least for the way I view him. I've always seen Sirius as bipolar, along with a large portion of the rest of his family (Black family insanity). So this song is just perfect for that, and relating back to his relationship to Remus, mostly during the First War, but even before that, because I think Sirius, during his lows, would probably see and invent issues that weren't actually there.

Flatline - Likely wouldn't listen again, but this is a Jily song, no question.

Emotions - I really like this one. The lyrics, again, are wonderful, and they really sink in. And to me, this relates back to Sirius again, mainly about his family and the pressure that was there from them, always weighing down over him.

Bloodhound - This one has some interesting lyrics, and it grows on me the more I listen to it, but I'm still in that in-between place with it. But once again, this is a James song. James with a few sections focused mainly on Sirius, because they're soulmates in the brother sense. They see all about each other and support one another through everything.

TEARS! - God, yes. Give me all of this. I want to soak it into my bones. This song was made for Remus. This is his song after Halloween '81. No contest.

(i didn't intend to include every song on the album, but oh well. there it is. Holli's thoughts on 5SOS)

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 03

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 9.2k [3/6]

notes: this will likely be my last update of this fic until the new year, because i have two (2!!!) other fics that i’m planning to post in december, including another jungoo one, so! please look forward to those, and enjoy this chapter in the meantime! 

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink: a recurring yet warranted warning, me absolutely fucking up everything about korea’s geography probably, semi-public? fingering???, jungkook....... shall we say, rocks the boat, there is one (1) dick pic but no one’s complaining

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

Monday - 11:27am

Kim Taehyung added you to the group: the great escape!!!!!! 🏝🚗💨

[11:27am] Taehyung: let’s gooooooooooo!!

[11:27am] Jisoo: ???

[11:28am] Lisa: go where?

[11:28am] Taehyung: parks lake house this weekend! we’re going on vacation!

[11:28am] You: hold up tae, we haven’t even asked our parents if we can have the house yet

[11:29am] Chimchim: oh yeah lmao

[11:29am] Chimchim: u wanna go ask noona??

[11:29am] You: nope

[11:30am] Chimchim: ugh, fine

[11:30am] Chimchim: u big baby

[11: 31am] You: 🙄

[11: 37am] Chimchim: they said yes!

[11:38am] Taehyung: LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

[11:38am] Minho: sweet 👍

[11:38am] Taemin: tight

[11:39am] Jungkook: dope

[11:40AM] Jisoo: you’re all idiots 🙄

Tuesday - 2:34pm

[2:34pm] Chimchim: i’ve secured the van

[2:34pm] Chimchim: for the trip i mean

[2:35pm] Taehyung: noice

[2:35pm] You: 10 people aren’t gonna fit in mom’s van, chim

[2:37pm] Jungkook: i can drive too

[2:37pm] Chimchim: 👍👍

[2:37pm] Chimchim: see? nothing to worry about

[2:38pm] Jungkook: yeah noona, nothing to worry about. nothing at all.

Wednesday - 9:49pm

[9:49pm] Taehyung: oh my god we need FOOD

[9:49pm] Lisa: you’re just realizing that now?

[9:50pm] Taehyung: shut up

[9:50pm] Taehyung: i have a cooler

[9:51pm] Lisa: and ice?

[9:51pm] Taehyung: ………… i will buy some ice

[9:52pm] You: there’s a grocery store on the way up that we always used to go to, we can stock up there

[9:52pm] Taehyung: 👍

[9:54pm] You: you also better remember to bring your own towels. and more than one change of clothing

[9:54pm] Taehyung: 👍👍

[9:55pm] Chimchim: yes, mom

///

The day of the trip finds you standing in the foyer, rifling through your purse to make sure you have all the essentials. Off in the distance, you can hear Jimin sprinting around frantically, catching the briefest glimpse of his ruffled blond hair before he disappears again into the depths of the house.

“Chim, I swear to god. Why didn’t you pack earlier?”

“I did!” your brother whines, poking his head out from the living room where his suitcase is lying wide open, belongings scattered in every direction. “It’s just that—oh, fuck. Do you have my toothbrush?”

“Why would I have your toothbrush?” you deadpan.

He ignores you, and not two seconds later, he lets out an excited shout. “Never mind! I found it!”

You sigh and rub your temples. The trip hasn’t even begun, yet you’re already feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “I’m going outside,” you call to your brother, who grunts in acknowledgement. Opening up the front door, you drag your suitcase out onto the sun-drenched porch, relishing the welcome breeze that caresses your cheeks and whispers through your hair.

The rare moment of peace is broken almost immediately by the rumble of a starting engine—the sound shuddery and wavering before it finally evens out into a steady, mechanical purr. It’s coming from nearby, and your gaze immediately travels to the neighboring driveway where a beat-up sedan sits, torn between exasperation and amusement when you see Jungkook waving at you from the driver’s seat.

“I’m coming to pick you up!” he calls through the open window, and you hold back your laughter as he reverses out of his driveway, rolls ten feet down the street, and pulls into yours.

“Was that really necessary?” you ask once he’s parked.

“Of course it was,” he replies, hopping out to grab your suitcase. You watch as he pops the trunk and loads it inside, and blanch when you realize what that means.

“Wait a second. Am I riding with you?”

Some emotion flashes across his face, but he wipes it away before you can identify it. “Would that be so terrible?”

It’s been one week since Taehyung’s party, and Jisoo’s warning still rings loud and clear in your brain. Still, you feign nonchalance and tamp down the uptick in your heart rate, offering him a shrug. “Just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

He grunts. An awkward silence settles over you as he adjusts your suitcase in the trunk beside his, and you distract yourself by fiddling with your purse strap until he slams the lid closed.

“So…” you start after a few seconds. “Are we picking anyone else up?”

“Yugyeom,” Jungkook replies, opening up the driver’s side door and climbing in. Hesitantly, you make your way over to the other side of the car, wondering if there’s any way you can avoid sitting in the passenger seat without looking like a total weirdo.

“Oh! Jungkook’s here already?” Jimin exits the house at last, lugging his suitcase and a smaller backpack. He shoves both into the backseat of your mother’s van before coming over, frowning when he sees you hovering near the trunk. “Why are you just standing there?”

You make a face at him. “We’re waiting for you, dumbass. Who’s riding with you?”

“Tae, Minho, and Taemin,” your brother replies. “Didn’t you see the group chat this morning?”

“I muted it days ago,” you admit. “You guys were annoying as hell.” Then another thought strikes you, your brain belatedly registering the names Jimin listed. “Wait, what about the girls? Aren’t they coming?”

Your brother rolls his eyes. “Jisoo’s working as a camp counselor this summer, and Lisa has other vacation plans. Maybe if you hadn’t muted the chat, you’d have known that.”

He has a point, though you aren’t about to admit that. You’re also wise enough not to inquire about the third member of the trio, remembering Jisoo’s revelation at the party. It’s no surprise that Chaeyoung isn’t joining you for the weekend—you’d want to avoid extended periods of time with your ex-boyfriend too. At the thought, your gaze reluctantly flits back over to the ex in question, who raises an expectant brow when he catches your eye.

“Ready?” he calls out the open window.

No, you want to say. But Jimin has already clambered into the van and slammed the door shut, and Jungkook’s car is blocking the van in the driveway so you suck in a deep breath and slide into the passenger seat beside your dark-haired neighbor.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Jungkook nods and throws the car into reverse. One hand splays across the wheel while the other comes up to rest on the back of your seat, and your breath hitches when he cranes around to check his blind spots, his face suddenly too close for comfort.

He’s playing with you, you tell yourself firmly, leaning back until your back’s pressed against the door and you can safely breathe again. Chaeyoung. Think about what he did to Chaeyoung.

“Hey, I made a roadtrip mix,” Jungkook pipes up all of a sudden. He grabs his phone from where it’s resting on the dashboard, tapping at the screen until the first strains of a melody filter through the car speakers. “It should last us the whole way.”

You perk up when you recognize the tune. “Oh! I love this song.”

Jungkook watches out of the corner of his eye as you bob your head to the beat, before smiling down at his lap. “Yeah. I know.”

///

Yugyeom lives on the other side of town, in a sprawling, winding neighborhood that sends your brain—and your phone’s GPS—into a complete and total tailspin. “Wait, wait—hang on. I think you missed a turn. You must have.”

Jungkook’s face crumples in confusion as he slows the car to a crawl, drawing a few irritated honks from the cars behind you. “There weren’t any streets back there, though.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, twisting in your seat to get a better look. “The directions said to take a right in… oh, fuck, hang on. We’re not even on a digitized road anymore, apparently.”

Jungkook heaves a sigh, but when you glance up at him, he’s wearing a grin. “Come on, Noona. You’re supposed to be my navigator. I’m depending on you.”

“I only know how to get us to the lake house, not Yugyeom’s,” you sniff defensively. “This is way beyond my pay grade.”

Jungkook chortles and reaches out, extending an open palm. “Can I see your phone for a sec?” You nod, handing it over, and he clicks his tongue as he turns it upside-down—rotating it a full three hundred and sixty degrees before returning it. “We might be lost,” he declares.

“Gee, you don’t say.”

He chuckles again. Picking up his own phone, he swipes a thumb across the screen before handing the unlocked device over. “Here, call Yugyeom. Put him on speaker, yeah?”

You hum in acknowledgement and scroll down in his contacts until you find the other boy’s name, clicking it open. A photo fills the screen as it rings—clearly a group photo from the way it’s cropped, zoomed in on Yugyeom and the ridiculous face he’s making.

“Is this from graduation?” you ask curiously.

Jungkook blinks and tears his gaze away from the windshield. “Huh?”

“Yugyeom’s contact photo,” you clarify, tilting the phone screen so he can see. “He’s got robes on.”

“Oh.” He looks away again, cheeks flushing. “Yeah. It’s lame, I know.”

You shake your head. “Don’t say that. I think it’s nice.”

Jungkook doesn’t get a chance to respond, but it’s impossible to miss the grin that crinkles his face and settles there. There’s a staticky hum as the line connects, and then Yugyeom’s voice is filling the vehicle, sounding as if he’s just rolled out of bed.

“Whaddaya want?”

“We can’t find your fucking house, man,” Jungkook says bluntly, turning onto a street that you’ve driven down at least three times by this point. “Where do you live?”

On the other end of the line, Yugyeom sighs. “Okay, okay. What street are you guys on?”

That gives Jungkook pause. “Uhh, Cedar Street? Oak Avenue? It has a tree name.”

“Neither of those streets exist, dude.”

“Birch Boulevard!” you exclaim. “We’re on Birch Boulevard. I saw the sign a while back.”

“Ah, okay. You’re close, then. Do you see a sign for Linden Lane?”

You glance around until you alight on a signpost. “Yeah.”

“Turn right onto it. Then take the first left, go past the cul-de-sac, and another left. Do not pass Go, and do not collect two-hundred dollars. I’m the fifth house on the right.”

He ends the call before you can ask him to repeat the directions, and you send Jungkook a helpless look. “Did you get all of that?”

“Besides the overused Monopoly joke?” Jungkook asks.. “Yeah, I got it. Right, left, left. Fifth house. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to get there.”

And true to his word, you arrive at the house three minutes later. Yugyeom is standing on the front step with rumpled hair and a duffel bag at his feet, and you snort when he throws open the car door and flops across the entirety of the backseat.

“Rough morning?”

“Stayed up late packing,” he says by way of explanation, his eyes already beginning to drift shut. Jungkook immediately turns the music up, and you giggle when Yugyeom shoots upright at the bassline that’s now shaking the entire vehicle. “I’m up, I’m up! Jeez, man.”

Jungkook just sends him an innocent grin in the rearview mirror. You turn the volume back down to a reasonable level as Yugyeom directs Jungkook onto the best route to take out of the neighborhood, and it isn’t long before you’re merging onto the highway that leads toward the coast.

You’re just beginning to get comfortable, staring out the window at the passing cityscape, when your leg vibrates with an incoming text notification. Glancing down, you see that Jungkook’s phone has slipped between your thigh and the seat, the screen lit with a new message.

[10:21am] Minho: gonna be at the store in 10

“Minho says they’ll be at the grocery store in ten minutes,” you relay to your companions. “We have a little longer to go. Probably another half hour or so.”

“We wouldn’t be so far behind if Yugyeom didn’t live in a fucking labyrinth,” Jungkook remarks, but a glance at the young man in the backseat reveals that he’s drifted off despite your earlier stunt. Rolling his eyes, he turns to you. “Can you text him back, Noona?”

You nod and hold out his phone so he can unlock it with his thumb. “Hey,” you say once you’ve hit send on the message. “Do you have a contact photo for me?”

Jungkook stiffens slightly, his gaze skittering between you and the road. “Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess I do. But it’s nothing, really. It’s kinda lame. But you… you can look at it if you want.”

Curiosity piqued, you scroll down until you find your name, tapping on the image beside it. The photo is from several years ago, during a family trip to the lake house with the Jeons. You are no older than fifteen, your arm slung around a fourteen-year-old Jungkook as the two of you stand knee-deep in the lake, wearing swimsuits and bright smiles. In the background, you can just barely make out a blurry Jimin mid-splash.

“I remember this,” you murmur, zooming in on your smiling faces. “That was a fun summer.”

“Junghyun was grumpy the whole time,” Jungkook recalls with a laugh. “But we had a good time, didn’t we? We practically lived in the lake that entire week.”

“Or that old canoe.” You grin, taking one last look at the photo before locking his phone and handing it back to him. “Remember? We’d always row out too far, and our parents would scream for us to come back before we fell in and drowned.”

Jungkook snickers. “As if I’d ever let you drown. I’m a great swimmer.”

“Are you saying I’m not?”

He backpedals immediately, realizing his mistake. “Hey, don’t twist my words. I said nothing of the sort.”

“That’s what I thought.” Giggling, you turn to look out the window, propping your chin in your palm as you watch the scenery flash past. “And I want that photo, by the way. Send it to me?”

“As soon as we get to the store,” Jungkook promises. “Speaking of which, we’re getting close. Keep an eye out for the exit for me?”

“Deal.”

///

Jimin and the others are waiting in the parking lot when you arrive, perched on and around the van as they watch Jungkook expertly maneuver the car into a neighboring parking space. “Took you long enough,” your brother says once the engine is cut, hopping off the hood and landing lightly on both feet.

“We’re here now, aren’t we?” you snark as you join the others hovering near the grocery store entrance. Jimin makes a face at you, and you stick your tongue out in response. After a quick huddle—wherein you form a very haphazard game plan—everyone disperses. Jimin grabs a shopping cart and heads inside with Taehyung and Minho, the latter of whom is trying to clamber his way into the cart to hitch a ride.

Sighing, you grab a shopping cart of your own and scan the interior of the store for the produce section. They’ve rearranged the aisles since you were last here, but you quickly find what you’re looking for and begin picking your way over when Jungkook materializes at your side.

“So, what are you thinking for food?” he asks, nudging you away so he can push the cart in your stead.

You allow him to take over, gesturing toward your destination. “I know my brother,” you tell him dryly. “He’s going to buy meat and completely forget about everything else. And I don’t trust any of you to buy a single fruit or vegetable.”

“I like fruit and vegetables,” Jungkook defends.

“You like everything,” you correct, flashing him a teasing grin before leading him into the produce section.

Grocery shopping with Jungkook turns out to be surprisingly pleasant—comfortable, even. He proves adept at finding the ripest fruits and greenest vegetables, and when you ask him to find some apples, he trots off immediately and returns with a handful of sweet potatoes in addition to your requested fruit.

You raise an eyebrow. “What are you planning to do with those?”

Jungkook feigns offense, slapping a hand to his heart. “That’s cold, Noona. Don’t you think I can cook?”

“I’ve never seen you cook in my life,” you respond. “How am I supposed to know if you can or not?”

“I can,” he promises. “And I’ll prove it too, if you let me.”

You get the feeling he’s not just talking about cooking anymore, but he doesn’t give you a chance to answer. Dropping the apples and potatoes into the cart, he flashes you a crooked little smile before turning toward a display of cabbages, leaving you to wonder at what exactly is going through his head.

///

It’s nearly one in the afternoon when you arrive at your family’s lake house. The last stretch of the drive takes you through the forest along a winding, narrow road, but Jungkook is a capable driver and you know the way well enough to warn him about any upcoming hairpin turns. Piling out of the car, the three of you make quick work of putting the food safely into the refrigerator. By the time you’re finished, Jimin and the others have arrived as well, lugging their belongings inside and setting them inside the entryway.

“So who’s sleeping where?” Taehyung asks, glancing around the house. It’s modestly sized, with a living area on one side and a combined dining room and kitchen on the other. Three bedrooms and a bathroom branch off of the hallway between them, ending in a back door that leads out to the lake. Through the window, you can see the water glimmering in the sunlight, hazy and golden.

“We’ll have to share,” Jimin says. “ If Noona takes one room, that leaves two bedrooms and the pullout couch for the rest of us.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “Rock, paper, scissors?” he suggests, drawing a chorus of groans.

“I always lose!” Jimin complains. “And Taemin cheats!”

“Do not!”

Laughing at the indignant expression on your brother’s face, you decide to leave them to it and head to your bedroom with your luggage in tow. The room is just as you remember it, with a bed tucked against one wall and a dresser on the opposite. There are three doors in total—one that you just entered through, and another that opens into a small closet. The third leads to a bathroom—shared with the bedroom on the other side of the wall that usually belongs to Jimin. Vaguely, you wonder who will be sleeping there tonight, before setting your suitcase on the bed and unzipping it.

“Fuck!”

You jump at the sudden shout, poking your head out into the hallway to see what’s causing all the commotion. Yugyeom is kneeling on the floor with his head down, a crestfallen Taemin standing beside him. Meanwhile, Taehyung and Minho look supremely pleased with themselves, and you see why when they grab their bags and practically skip to the master bedroom across the hall, collapsing onto the king-sized bed.

“Have fun on the couch, losers!” Jimin singsongs, grabbing Jungkook by the wrist and dragging him into their newly won bedroom on your side of the hallway. “Lake in fifteen minutes, so get changed! Last one there’s in charge of dinner!”

The door slams shut behind him, and you roll your eyes before turning back to your opened suitcase and pulling out a book. There’s a perfectly shaded spot beneath one of the trees along the water, and you fully intend to capitalize on the last few hours of daylight before the sun begins to set.

Minho is the only one outside when you exit the house, standing on the dock in a pair of green swim trunks. He waves at you cheerily before cannonballing into the lake, and you squeak as the resulting splash sends water splattering across the front of your shirt.

“Sorry!” he calls when he resurfaces, shaking his hair out like a wet dog.

You wave off his apology with a laugh, settling down onto the soft grass at the base of your chosen tree and opening up your book. The other boys trickle out of the house one by one, but you barely notice. It isn’t until a triumphant shout pierces the air that you finally glance up to see what’s causing all the commotion, your gaze immediately landing on Taehyung standing on the back steps of the house.

“Trust me,” he says, unbothered by his apparent tardiness. “You don’t want me to make dinner.”

Minho pulls a face and straightens up from where he’d been floating on his back. “You know, he kinda has a point there.”

Murmurs of agreement all around. Taehyung gives Jimin a smug smile, who scowls from where he’s sitting at the end of the dock, his bare feet dangling over the edge. “So what now? Do we have to play rock, paper, scissors again?”

“Nah, I’ll do it.”

Every head whips around to face Jungkook, yours included. He’s standing a short ways from where you’re sitting—his approach so quiet that you hadn’t even heard him arrive. The last time you checked, he’d been diving off the dock with Minho and Yugyeom, water pooling in his collarbones and dripping down the ridges of his taut abdomen each time he resurfaced.

Not that you’d been looking, of course.

“Really?” Jimin looks aghast at his best friend’s declaration. “You can cook?”

Jungkook scoffs in disbelief and plops down beside you, leaning back against the tree trunk. “Why does everyone in your family seem surprised by that?” he asks, his lip jutting out in a petulant frown. “Do I seem like someone who can’t cook?”

“Yes,” you tell him honestly, marking your page and letting the book fall shut. “Don’t take it personally, though. Men only learn how to cook in college when they have to start fending for themselves. And sometimes, not even then.”

The noise that leaves Jungkook’s mouth can best be described as disgruntled, but he doesn’t press any further. Instead, he peers over your shoulder to get a look at the cover of your book, mouthing the title to himself before glancing at you. “Haven’t I seen you reading this before?”

“Probably,” you admit. “It’s an old favorite.”

He hums, slouching back against the tree again, and when you look over, you see that both his eyes have fallen shut. With his mouth parted and his dark lashes resting on his cheeks, he looks years younger than he is—and so much more like the Jungkook you used to know.

“Tired?” you whisper.

“Long drive,” Jungkook whispers back, his head already beginning to loll. “Lemme sleep, Noona.”

Smiling to yourself, you return to your book and leave him to rest.

///

“So, what are you even planning to make?” Jimin asks, swinging his legs. He’s seated atop the kitchen counter, taking up the majority of what precious little space there is to begin with, and Jungkook sighs deeply as he’s forced to dodge around him yet again to peer into the refrigerator.

“You’ll see.”

“I don’t think you even know yet,” Taemin pipes up from the doorway. The other boys are in the living room playing Mario Kart, but Taemin and Jimin have selflessly pulled themselves away from the game to help their friend in the kitchen—or so they say. As far as you’re concerned, they’ve been nothing but a nuisance thus far, but you don’t voice that particular thought aloud.

“Ramen doesn’t count as making dinner,” Jimin points out snidely when Jungkook pauses too long next to the box of ramen packs. “Anyone can boil water. And you don’t get to add an egg and call it fancy, like you usually do.”

“My ramen is delicious, excuse you,” Jungkook retorts, pointing a spatula at him. “And that’s not even what I’m making, so fuck off.”

Jimin shrugs, but shuts his mouth nonetheless. You take the opportunity to throw some pork belly at him, the meat wrapped neatly in paper and tied off with twine. “Here,” you tell him. “You could at least make yourself useful and start grilling the meat.”

“Okay, mom,” your brother grumbles under his breath, hopping off the counter. He and Taemin head out to the back porch where the grill sits, and you join Jungkook at the stove where he’s staring thoughtfully at an empty pan.

“Try twisting the dial. I’ve heard that helps.”

Jungkook snaps out of his daze and turns to you. “Huh?”

“The stove. It won’t light itself, you know.”

Chuckling, Jungkook twists the dial as instructed, adding a drizzle of oil to the pan. As it heats up, he turns and selects a knife from the cutlery drawer. The sweet potatoes he’d insisted on purchasing are already washed and peeled, and you watch as he begins to slice them, your gaze automatically flitting down to his exposed forearms, his muscles flexing with every movement.

“Hey, Noona? Can you do me a favor?”

You blink, tearing your gaze from the branching veins lining his arms. “What?”

Jungkook, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice your distracted state. “Can you put the rice in the microwave?” he asks, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Why?” you tease. “Are you still scared?”

“Of course not,” he retorts, but you don’t miss the wary look that flashes across his face when you plop the rice inside and go to punch in the cook time.

The remainder of the cooking goes smoothly. Jimin and Taemin return with the grilled meat, and Jungkook rebuffs your offer to set the table, leaving his position at the stove to lay plates and utensils down on the table himself. “I’m just about done, anyway,” he tells you, gesturing at the plate of glazed sweet potatoes on the counter. “Sit down and relax, Noona.”

“Fine,” you relent, taking a seat. Jimin takes the chair beside you, and Taemin plops down on his other side. Jungkook sits down just to your left once he’s finished laying out the food, and for a brief, insane moment, you almost think that he’s going to repeat what he’d done at his graduation dinner. But the dark-haired young man remains on his best behavior, keeping his hands to himself under the table, and you aren’t sure whether you’re grateful or disappointed.

The meal flies by in a flurry of laughter and conversation. Jungkook discovers that his glazed sweet potatoes have adhered to the plate, and sends everyone into hysterics when he promptly starts spinning it around like a steering wheel.

It’s a good night. And at the end of it, you go to bed warm and content, with a belly full of food and a smile on your face.

///

You awaken to the sound of chirping songbirds and gentle waves lapping at the shore the next morning, thoroughly rejuvenated after an undisturbed night’s sleep. Stretching your arms overhead, you yawn and bask in the comfort of your bed for a few more moments before getting up and heading to the bathroom, thankful that you don’t have to fight anyone for sink occupancy. The toilet seat is even down, which comes as a welcome surprise, all things considered.

Before long, you are back in your bedroom, rifling through the contents of your suitcase. Belatedly, you realize that you’ve packed only one swimsuit—and a bikini, at that. Cheeks warming, you pull the two pieces out, holding them up against your body. Has it always been this small? You don’t remember. All you know is that Jungkook has two fully functional eyes, and there’s no way that he won’t be looking at every inch of skin you choose to expose.

In the end, you settle on wearing the bikini beneath a flowy, floral kimono-style robe, tied at the waist to form a makeshift dress. The ensemble reaches just past your knees and is sheer enough to still show skin, but you no longer feel as self-conscious going out into the view of your companions and that’s a victory as far as you’re concerned. Checking your reflection one last time, you adjust your sash before opening the bedroom door and heading down the hall for some breakfast.

Unsurprisingly, the kitchen is empty when you walk in, tiptoeing past a still slumbering Taemin and Yugyeom on the pullout couch. You savor the quiet as you start up the old coffeemaker, pulling a mug from the cabinet and rinsing it out to get rid of any lingering dust. The weather app on your phone promises that it’ll be a clear, cloudless day, and a glance out the window confirms it. Silently, you debate whether or not to crack a window.

Your musings are interrupted by the arrival of Taehyung, his brown hair sticking up at all angles. Blearily, he trundles to the fridge and grabs the orange juice, seemingly two seconds away from chugging it straight from the carton before you clear your throat and push a clean glass toward him. You think you hear him mumble a thank you.

As the morning wears on, the others slowly begin to trickle in. Breakfast is a disorganized affair that leaves bread crumbs all over the counter, and nearly causes a fight when everyone seems to want their eggs cooked a different way.

“Look, if you wanted your egg soft-boiled, you should’ve made it yourself!” Jimin grouches to Taehyung, the t-shirt over his head muffling his words. Everyone else is already in the water, splashing about, but you’re seated on the end of the dock with your brother and Taehyung, who looks thoroughly unfazed behind his tinted sunglasses.

“Maybe if I knew how to soft boil an egg, I would have.”

“Google exists,” Jimin says, finally freeing himself from the shirt and tossing it aside.

Taehyung nods sagely. “Exactly. So why didn’t you use it?”

Jimin is beginning to look positively murderous, so when Minho swims over and taps your submerged ankle, you are beyond grateful for the distraction. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Are you gonna swim, or are you gonna sit onshore the whole time?” Minho asks, raking his wet bangs out of his eyes. “The water’s not even cold, so get in here.”

Pointedly, you wiggle your toes. “Feels pretty cold to me.”

“Okay, fine. It’s cold.” Minho grins. “But you get used to it.”

You sigh at his easy admission. “All men do is lie. How am I supposed to believe you?”

He raises a brow. “Do I need to pull you in and dunk you under?”

“I will kick you if you even try,” you tell him, standing up and shrugging off your robe. An audible hush falls as the gauzy material pools around your ankles—Jungkook stops wrestling with Yugyeom and trying to dunk him underwater, and Taemin pauses mid-splash, his hair drenched and dripping.

It’s Minho who breaks the silence first, letting loose a low whistle of appreciation. “Damn, {Name}.”

Jimin grabs a shoe from the pile on the dock and chucks it at him, hard. “Dude, that’s my fucking sister!”

“Ow! What the fuck, man, that’s my shoe!”

“Quit ogling my sister!”

“I’m not!” Minho yells, just as Jimin chucks the other shoe and hits him square in the mouth. “Okay, I’m not anymore. Sorry, okay?”

Once he’s sufficiently sure that Jimin is done attacking him, Minho turns to you. “I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. You know that, right?”

“I know,” you reassure him. “Honestly, it was kinda good for my self-esteem. And I don’t need you defending my honor, or whatever it is you think you’re doing,” you add, glancing over at your disgruntled brother.

“Men are pigs,” Jimin sniffs. “I won’t apologize.”

You ruffle his hair good-naturedly. “I know, Chim. You’re right.” Then your smile turns mischievous. “I won’t apologize for what I’m about to do, either.”

And then you grab him by the arm and drag him into the lake, the cold water submerging you in an instant and stealing the breath out of your lungs. You’re both gasping by the time you resurface, blinking water out of your eyes, and you squeal when Jimin takes the opportunity to splash you again.

Hours pass—the sun rising higher overhead. Around noon, Taehyung disappears inside the house and returns with an assortment of snacks and sandwich fixings, ushering everyone over for an impromptu lunch on the dock. You dip your feet into the water as you munch on a bag of chips, and Jungkook plops down beside you with a juice box in one hand and a ham sandwich in the other.

“Wanna go for a ride in the canoe after lunch?” he asks, jabbing a thumb back in the direction of the house. “I found it in the garage.”

You laugh. “Really? I thought for sure we got rid of that thing. Are you sure it hasn’t sprung a leak?”

Jungkook’s face crinkles into a grin. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, huh?”

You grin back and raise your cup, the lemonade inside swishing around. “I’ll hang on to this, just in case I need to start bailing water out.”

Lunchtime winds down gradually. Jungkook polishes off his sandwich and trots off to fetch the canoe, waving off your offers to help before disappearing around the corner of the house. You watch him return a few minutes later from your seat on the end of the dock, resting your weight back on your hands and swirling your pruney toes in the water. He’s stripped off the loose white tee he’d donned during lunch, his golden skin cast in shadow by the canoe perched across his bare shoulders, and your gaze trails from his bulging biceps down to the ridges of his abdomen. The muscles flex with every step he takes, and you hastily take another sip of lemonade in an effort to combat the sudden dryness in your throat.

With a grunt, Jungkook comes to a stop at your elbow, heaving the boat into the water. The impact sends ripples across the lake and the butterflies in your belly into a frenzy, and you nearly fall off the dock when Jungkook touches your shoulder gently.

“Ready to go, Noona?”

You nod, not quite trusting yourself to speak. Jungkook holds the boat steady with one hand while offering you the other, and you gratefully grasp it as you step off the dock. The canoe rocks dangerously when Jungkook clambers in after you, but quickly steadies when he picks up an oar and jabs at the dock to push off into the lake. The glimmering expanse of blue water stretches before you, and you relax as you let your fingers dangle off the side of the boat, watching ripples form beneath your fingertips.

“I can help row,” you say after a few moments, casting a glance over at Jungkook. He’s settled into a rhythm now, the veins and tendons in his arm flexing with each movement, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he’s sitting.

“You—” Jungkook says, fixing you with a playful stare, “—just enjoy the ride, yeah?”

Shaking your head, you smile and turn back around to admire the view. Sunlight reflects off the rippling water, lending a golden iridescence to the glittering blue depths. In the distance, the opposite shoreline rises up, crowned with rocky outcrops and majestic dark green pines.

With a start, you realize how far away you’ve gotten from the other boys. The shouts and laughter from the house are quickly fading into the background, and you nervously turn to look at Jungkook as he rows you even further.

“God, my dad would freak if he saw us right now,” you remark, trying to diffuse the sudden tension that’s settled. “I mean, we don’t even have life jackets. He’d lose his mind.”

Jungkook hums. He stops rowing, his hands stilling on the oars, and you’re just about to ask him what’s wrong when a warm hand glides up your thigh.

“You think you could maybe stop talking about your dad, princess?” Then he smirks. “Unless you’re into the whole daddy kink thing, because I’d be down to explore that at some point if you want—“

“Jungkook!” you hiss, scandalized.

“Yes?” the young man in question hums, his face the picture of innocence. It’s hard to muster up your vocabulary when he’s looking up at you with those wide doe eyes, but you somehow manage to prevail over your malfunctioning brain.

“We’re in public!” you whisper, glancing back at the shore where your brother and his friends have started an impromptu game of water polo.

Jungkook smirks crookedly at you. “Guess you better not scream too loud, then.”

And then, before you can open your mouth to protest—before you can even try to call his bluff—he’s slipped his hand into your bikini bottoms and found his way to your clit. Your entire body spasms when he presses into it experimentally, and the resulting snicker that escapes him is nothing short of infuriating.

“Careful,” he coos, laying his free hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing nonsensical circles into the soft skin. “Don’t wanna rock the boat, now.”

Then he returns his attention to your clit, pinching the nub just to watch you jolt in his grasp and soothing you with a gentle kiss to the knee afterward. Your skin warms beneath the plush of his lips, and the pleased smile that curves them is all the warning you get before he sheathes a single finger in your clenching core. “Jungkook—” you gasp, shoving uselessly at his bare shoulders, but you can’t keep the edge of desire out of your voice. You can’t hide the growing wetness between your legs either—wetness that he most certainly feels as he slips another finger inside, pumping into you with ease.

“God, look at you,” he murmurs, his eyes trained on the way you clench around him. “So pretty like this. So pretty, getting fucked by my fingers. I could do this all day.”

“We—we don’t have all day,” you whisper. The last syllable dissolves into a moan as Jungkook eases a third finger into your cunt, and you scrabble to ground yourself when he picks up his leisurely pace. One hand settles on the edge of the boat, your fingernails digging into the wood, while the other finds Jungkook’s bicep. His arm flexes beneath your grip with each snap of his wrist, and you keen when he crooks his fingers just right and sends stars skittering across your vision.

He knows that you’re getting close. You can tell from the growing furrow between his brows and the hard set of his jaw, and you can tell that he won’t stop until he gets you off. Concentration etches across his face, and you gasp when his thumb finds your clit again.

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook—”

“That’s it,” he rasps, digging deeper and thumbing roughly across your bundle of nerves. “Cum for me.”

And you do. With one final flick of his wrist, Jungkook sends you hurtling over the edge that he’s so effortlessly built, a cresting wave of pleasure overtaking your body and spreading through your veins. Your leg kicks out instinctively, rocking the canoe dangerously in the water, but Jungkook catches you by the ankle with his free hand and presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. He shifts his weight until you’re steadied once more, and only then does he ease his fingers out of you, raising them to his mouth to lick them clean.

“Think we can sneak away so I can fuck you properly?” he asks.

Your cheeks heat up at the lewd display, warming even more when his words register in your muddled brain. “Oh my god, Jungkook.”

“That’s exactly what you’ll be saying when I really get my hands on you,” Jungkook agrees. Flashing you a mischievous grin, he drops his hand over the edge of the boat, letting the turquoise water wash away any lingering fluids. “What do you think? The backseat of my car isn’t half bad…”

“I will literally push you into this lake,” you tell him, trying and failing to hide a disbelieving laugh. “Why are you such a perv?”

“You like it,” Jungkook defends immediately. “‘Sides,” he adds, casting a wary glance at the shore where Jimin and the others are still fully engrossed in their game, “I wanna kiss you while I fuck you. It’s not as good like this.”

At that, something dangerously close to affection blooms in your belly, winding its curious tendrils around your heart. Swallowing the feeling down, you pick up one of the oars instead, handing it over to him before hefting the other. “Come on,” you murmur. “They’re gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long.”

Jungkook hums. “Yeah. Probably.”

And then he raises the oar you just handed him, lifting it until the paddle covers both of your faces, and boldly plants a firm kiss on your mouth.

“I’ll row us back,” he declares casually when he pulls away, as if he hasn’t just stolen all the oxygen from your lungs. As if your lips aren’t burning where he’s kissed you, your cheeks hot beneath his gentle exhalations. As if you aren’t positively thrumming with the desire to pull him back in, and maybe take him up on his offer to fuck you in the backseat of his beat-up sedan.

“Yeah,” you say instead, your voice hoarse. “Let’s go.”

///

What few remaining hours of daylight you have, you decide to spend inside. Jungkook gets roped into the water polo match as soon as the two of you return to shore, and you take the opportunity to slip into the house and clean yourself up. Safely locked away in the bathroom, you strip off your damp bikini bottoms and toss them in the sink. The top follows, and you give both a quick wash, doing your best to ignore the remaining slick from your orgasm that stubbornly coats the material.

Once everything is washed and hanging up to dry, you step into the shower. Warm water soaks your hair and slides down your back, and you tilt your head back to let the spray wash your worries away, relishing in the rare moment of peace and quiet.

By the time you’ve toweled off and gotten dressed, you can hear the boys beginning to traipse back into the house. From what you can make out, they’re making dinner plans, and you poke your head out curiously when Jimin mentions you by name.

“What are you saying about me?” you ask, narrowing your eyes accusingly at your brother.

Jimin whirls around, his cherubic face a perfect picture of innocence. “Nothing! I was just talking about your fried rice and how good it is…”

“You’re trying to get me to make you dinner,” you sigh. “I knew it.”

“No, we’ll help!” your brother promises. “I swear, as soon as I get out of the shower, I’ll chop all the vegetables.”

“Sure you will,” you snort, brushing past him and heading for the kitchen.

Much to your surprise, the kitchen is already occupied when you arrive. Jungkook and Yugyeom are at the counter—the former poised with a knife at the ready, about to slice into an onion. The latter is digging through the cabinets, and both turn at the sound of your footsteps.

“Hey,” Yugyeom says. “You probably know where the bottle opener is, right?”

You nod. “Left of the sink, second drawer down.” Then you turn your attention to Jungkook, peering curiously over his shoulder. “What’s the onion for?”

“Dinner,” he replies, flashing you a crooked little smile. “We’re making fried rice, aren’t we?”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest and races to catch up, thumping erratically against your ribcage. It’s hard to ignore the warmth blossoming in your belly—near impossible to ignore the butterflies that have made a home there—but you somehow manage to school your expression into something passably neutral and busy yourself with the other vegetables on the counter. “I see Jimin got to you, too. Is the other cutting board clean?”

Jungkook nods, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the dish rack. “Washed it last night, yeah. It’s all yours, Noona.”

You hum and skirt around Yugyeom to grab the clean board and another knife. Chopping vegetables goes a lot faster with two people, and Yugyeom does his part by cracking open two bottles of beer and plunking one down next to each of you before opening a third for himself. “Hydrate,” he orders, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and taking a sip.

It doesn’t take long to finish making dinner. As promised, Jimin joins you as soon as he’s out of the shower, plucking the knife out of your hand and nudging you aside so he can finish cutting the vegetables. You fire up the stove and drizzle some oil into a pan, and smile when Taehyung brings you the container of leftover rice and a large serving bowl.

“You know what we should do?” Minho asks as you’re all sitting down to eat. Yugyeom’s opened more beers, and Jimin’s brought out the wine as well. Jungkook is spooning out fried rice for everyone, and you accept the bowl he hands you with a murmur of thanks before looking at Minho expectantly.

“What should we do?”

“Go to the beach,” he replies, tilting the remainder of his beer back into his mouth. “It’s only an hour away, isn’t it?”

“Closer to half an hour without traffic,” Jimin corrects. “But, yeah, we should go. That would be fun.”

By the time dinner is finished, you’ve finalized plans to drive down to the beach in the morning. “Remember, we’re leaving at ten,” you tell Jimin, elbowing him in the ribs. “That means you have to wake up before ten.”

“I know!” your brother whines, rubbing the spot where you elbowed him with a grimace. “Jeez, Noona. I’m good at waking up. It’s Jungkook and Tae you have to worry about.”

“Says the punk who takes hour-long showers,” you snark. “What are you gonna do when you have to pay your own water bills, huh?”

“Shower at your place,” he replies smugly. “You can’t turn me away. I’m your brother.”

“Please, that’s exactly why I can turn you away, you little mooch.”

“You love me!”

“Really? You wanna test that theory?”

The remainder of the evening passes in a blur of booze and board games, unearthed from the closet in the hall. Despite your collective agreement to go to bed early, it’s past midnight when you finally bid everyone goodnight and crawl underneath your covers. Shutting your eyes, you will your brain to settle and your limbs to relax, and you’re on the verge of drifting off when your phone suddenly buzzes. Lazily, you roll over and snatch the device off the nightstand, taking in the late hour before your eyes flit down to the new notification and go wide.

[1:02am] Jungkook: IMG_497

You freeze, thumb hovering just above the message. Even when your screen goes dark again, you can’t erase the sight of his name lighting up your phone, the attachment sitting there like a taunt. You shouldn’t open it. You can’t open it.

But curiosity gnaws at your belly, fraying the edges of your resolve. Slowly, you wake the screen, watching as Jungkook’s name fills it once more. You hesitate, bottom lip finding its way between your teeth.

And then your phone buzzes again, several times in quick succession.

[1:04am] Jungkook: i miss you, noona

[1:04am] Jungkook: miss your pretty face

[1:04am] Jungkook: miss how tight your pussy felt around my fingers

You drop the device as if scorched. It takes several moments to gather your wits again, but when you do, pick up your phone, clicking on his name and scrolling up to the attachment. In the darkness of your bedroom, you watch with bated breath as it downloads.

“Fuck.”

The expletive slips past your lips, unbidden, but you can’t help it. Jungkook stares out at you from the photograph illuminating your screen, his eyes hooded and his lips curled into a devious smirk. He’s in the shared bathroom between your bedrooms, and even though it’s dark inside, the flash of his camera is just enough to illuminate the distinctive palm tree patterned shower curtain behind him.

But, you aren’t focused on that.

No, your focus is zeroed in on the foreground of the photo, where you can perfectly make out the head of Jungkook’s cock, sticky and leaking copiously from between his fingers.

“Fuck,” you repeat, louder this time.

And as if reading your mind, another text flashes onto your screen.

[1:07am] Jungkook: wish your pretty little pussy was stretched around my cock right now, princess

You aren’t sure what possesses you to send the response you do, but your thumbs are moving before the more rational side of your brain can catch up and stop you.

[1:07am] You: why don’t you come over and make it happen then?

You’ve only just hit send when the bathroom door swings open, revealing Jungkook standing there in nothing but sweatpants. His face is illuminated in the stark white light shining from his screen, his eyes dark and his smirk even darker. Every movement drips with intent, from the way his lips quirk upward to the way he saunters over to join you on your bed, dropping his phone somewhere amongst the rumpled sheets. The room goes dark.

And then…

“Hey, princess.”

His lips are at your ear, hot breath caressing your cheeks and sending shivers down the length of your spine. The mattress dips beneath his weight as he joins you, a hand finding your bare thigh before sliding up to grasp your hip. Only an oversized t-shirt and a thin pair of cotton panties shield you from his roving fingers, and you can tell from the pleased curve of his mouth that he isn’t going to let either stand in his way. One hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt, dancing along your ribcage, and you let out a breathy gasp when he trails up and skims along the soft skin just below the swell of your breasts.

“Been thinking about you all night, you know,” Jungkook whispers, pushing up your shirt and peppering kisses along every inch of newly revealed flesh. “Been thinking about how pretty you looked, cumming around my fingers, and how much prettier you’d look cumming around my cock.”

Your shirt is long forgotten by this point, tugged overhead and thrown carelessly over his shoulder. Jungkook hauls you closer, slotting himself between your spread legs, and you shiver when he presses the pad of his thumb against your clothed clit, the material uncomfortably damp as it clings to your folds.

“Jungkook—” His name escapes you in an airy whisper. “Please.”

Even in the darkness, you can see the satisfied, self-assured tilt of his lips. “Such a good girl for me,” he croons, leaning down to press a kiss to your waiting mouth. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek while the other remains between your legs, and you gasp sharply when he digs his thumb a little harder against your clit, circling the sensitive bud.

Jungkook seizes upon the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips, licking into your mouth with unrestrained ardor. Your panties are peeled away, the cottony material disappearing right alongside the pressure of his thumb, and the inadvertent whine that escapes you has him chuckling darkly in his throat.

“What is it, princess?” Jungkook rasps, his voice dipping several pitches. “You have to tell me what you want, remember?”

You clutch at his wrist weakly, tugging it back between your legs until he finally indulges you and resumes his lazy revolutions around your clit. “Want you,” you whisper. “Want you inside me.”

Jungkook lets out a pleased hum, rewarding you with a single finger that he slips into your sopping entrance, your juices aiding the smooth glide as he curls it up in search of the spot that’ll have you seeing stars. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t,” you agree shakily. “But it looks like you are, so why don’t you let me help you out?”

Jungkook chuckles softly, his lips ghosting across the swell of your cheek. “Oh, yeah? And how exactly do you plan on helping me?”

Slowly, you reach down, letting your fingers graze the sizable bulge in his sweatpants. “You said it yourself, didn’t you? Me, stretched around your cock?”

A low groan escapes him when you give him a firm stroke, your fingers barely meeting around his length. “On your back,” he commands hoarsely, nudging you backward until you’re nestled into your pillows. Freeing his erection from the confines of his sweatpants, he settles comfortably between your spread legs, the mattress groaning in protest at the shift in weight.

“Wait,” you whisper, grabbing his wrist. “Did you hear that?”

His face scrunches in confusion. “Hear what?” he asks, as if he’s never heard that particular string of words before. “Are you sure it wasn’t just—”

He stops mid-sentence, and you both hear it again—the unmistakable creaking of bedsprings from next door. “Shit!” you hiss, scrambling back on the mattress until you’re nearly pressed against the headboard. “Oh, god. That’s Jimin. He’s going to kill you if he finds you in here—”

On the other side of the wall, the door to the shared bathroom opens, the light flickering on and illuminating the crack beneath your door. You hear your brother cursing sleepily under his breath as the toilet lid clatters open, and nearly shove Jungkook off the bed in your haste to get him out of your room.

“You have to go,” you whisper frantically, herding him toward the door that leads out into the hall.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls his pants back over his hips, and you can practically see him willing his erection to go away. “What am I supposed to say if he asks?”

“I don’t know! Pretend you were going for a glass of water or something!”

With a final push, you shove him out of your bedroom, leaning against the door with a relieved sigh when it clicks shut behind him. You hear Jungkook shuffle off just as Jimin flushes, and cast a prayer up to any deities that may exist as you listen to him wash his hands. And it seems your prayers are answered, as quiet descends over the house once more. Off in the distance, you think you hear Minho snoring.

Letting out another sigh, you return to bed, crawling beneath the covers and getting comfortable. And when sleep finally takes you, you dream of Jeon Jungkook.