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#having exhausted all other options of putting it off

renthony · 2 months

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Help a family of disabled trans folks get some groceries?

*Long-suffering sigh.* I've been putting off making this post as long as humanly possible, but we are once again out of money and nearly out of food.

The free food distribution events in town don't always have things that meet my family's dietary needs (we have sensitivities, allergies, and one of us keeps kosher). We aren't able to get food stamps (yes, we try regularly). We have some shelf-stable basics (and by that I mean sacks of rice, because it's the only food people ever seem to want to buy for poor people), but we don't have any of our frozen safe-foods, any dairy, any meat, any fruits or veggies, any of the stuff that requires refrigeration. We also still have to worry about things like medications, pet food, putting gas in the car, and various other life expenses.

I say all of this because every time I have to make a begging post, people try to give advice instead of aid. I promise y'all, we've exhausted our options. Yes, I know about the subreddits, yes I know about free food groups, yes I have made Amazon grocery lists in the past for shelf-stable needs, yes I know about federal aid options. I have explored them. My wife works full-time and all four of us have side-hustles, and it's not enough. We still need cash.

If you've read this far and are able/willing to help out, here are my family's pay links. If you can't help, even a reblog does a lot. <3

PayPal: paypal.me/chaosqueer Venmo: @ chaosqueer CashApp: $chaosqueer Household Amazon Wishlist

#original post #if I get one more fucking message from someone telling me to just go beg on reddit I am going to SCREAM

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ahundredtimesover · 18 days

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I Want You to Stay (11) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; mentions of childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; mention of past experience of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts, business/property devt, and book talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; sexual content (making out - I know, finally) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 23.5k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii so this was quite the wait! We have come to the climax of the story and I'm both excited and terrified to share this with you. I have nothing more to say other than see you on the other side! 🤭🤭

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

Whenever Jungkook creates some distance between you and him, you often understand it. It’s his default, you think, and after learning about the pain he harbors from his childhood, you’ve come to accept it. You expect it, even.

Recently though, he hasn’t been doing much of it. He often moves closer; sometimes, he lets you do it. Tonight, it’s both - he stands near you, he holds you, and he lets you slowly close the distance until you’re just a breath away. And for a brief moment, you think that he’d eliminate it altogether.

But you’re not in some fantasy world, so when he pulls away, you’re reminded of who you are and who he is and that sliver of hope goes up in flames.

“I—” he mumbles.

“I should go,” you interject, turning away so as not to see any more of the rejection in his eyes. “Have a good evening, Mr. Jeon.”

You grab your bag then rush outside, exhaling the breath you were holding in and letting the shame fill you up as fast as the elevator reaches the first floor. You want to run to rid yourself of the embarrassment, maybe be irresponsible for once and get drunk just to forget. Maybe when you wake up in the morning, you’ll find out it was all a dream - you didn’t actually want to kiss your boss, you didn’t actually think he’d kiss you back, and he didn’t actually pull away, as if it stung him to touch you, as if it hurt him to try.

But the thought doesn’t last long.

You get on a bus and convince yourself that staying sober tonight is a better option than reporting hungover to work tomorrow. You’ll feel embarrassed either way, but might as well be more professional about it, considering that what you’d almost done - and all the things you thought about - was nothing but that. You settle for just cup noodles for dinner; you don’t deserve anything nicer than that tonight.

Sleep doesn’t come until past one later in the evening. You spend much of your time tossing and turning, trying hard to erase the image of Jungkook so close to you.

But nothing works. All you see are his lips. All you can hear is his breathing. All you can smell is him.

You wake up four hours later, exhausted and incredibly anxious for the day. You want it to be over already, and you half think of calling in sick but you know that’ll be too obvious. It could set off alarm bells to Jungkook and he might call and ask how you are, and that’s something you can’t deal with either. So you power through and nap in the car, not wanting to converse with Mr. Ri because you might tell him everything should he ask the right questions.

Your plan of action is to engage with Jungkook as little as you can, in any way that’s possible. You play around with things in his kitchen and make sure you have your back turned when he exits from his gym. The energy drink and glass of water are on the counter and you sense him lingering before he finally walks to his bedroom. You let some time pass before going to his closet to prepare his accessories for the day, then head back out, cooking his omelet as slowly as you can.

The clearing of his throat lets you know he’s done, and you glance at him before placing the dishes on the table.

This isn’t the routine. You always fix his necktie once he shows up. It’s reflex for you, and you know that’s what he’s come to expect as well.

But you can’t bring yourself to do that right now. It’s basically like re-enacting what happened last night and you can’t promise yourself that you won’t want to kiss him again when he’s that close. You can’t look him in the eyes, you can’t take in his scent, you can’t hear his breathing without remembering how he felt like. You know you can’t have it again, so you won’t even torture yourself even more than you already are.

His tie is slightly off and it disturbs you. He doesn’t move but he doesn’t ask you to fix it.

You sigh to yourself. He’ll live.

You eat quickly and it’s a contrast to him picking on his food. You’re tempted to ask if the dish isn’t to his liking, but you told yourself not to start conversations or engage in anything outside of work matters, and you’ll stick to that for as long as possible.

“___.”

“Mr. Jeon, I’ve prepared your notes for today’s meetings,” you state before he could say anything more. “And I’m meeting with the marketing team about the additional promotional materials you wanted. Is there anything else you wish to add to the ones we talked about?”

“None for now. They can go ahead with my initial request,” he responds, his voice too soft than what you’re used to, but you don’t dare look up and meet his eyes.

You ask a few more questions and he responds accordingly. The silence is deafening and though you miss the playful banter that has become part of your mornings, you know you can’t get into that right now. Somehow, this is when you can’t act like everything’s normal. Your stupid mistake and foolish assumption is where you draw the line. You just hope the day ends quickly enough before you give in.

Both of you head down to the car. Before going inside, you hear Jungkook ask Mr. Ri how he looks and if his tie is fixed, and you internally smack your head for being so petty about this. You didn’t think that something seemingly trivial about your daily routine with him would affect you this much, as if it somehow threw things off-balance just because you were so afraid to be close. You realize now that you would look forward to those few seconds because that was the only time you had a reason to touch him.

But he’s everything you can’t desire and given that you almost crossed a line, you know you’re gonna have to slowly pull back. Not just with regards to your feelings but in everything, as you take a peek of your personal phone and see an email notification about an upcoming book launch from Rkive Publishing. You subscribed to their mailing list right after you met their director, and you’ve been sitting on his email address and the application letter you have yet to submit.

Since that encounter, you’ve been occasionally looking at other job opportunities in different fields. You realize that nothing much excites you. There’s not much you think is worth slaving your way for in this corporate jungle, and that while you’re currently part of that machine, the only thing that got you going these past eight years was the debt you had to pay.

You had your reasons to stay but being at this point when you’re ready to let that go, you’re realizing that there wasn’t much else about the job that got you truly excited. Sure, it was also the people, but they’re why you couldn’t leave. It wasn’t until the planning for the Arts Center that you felt you could truly be invested in a project and have impact on it, too; it just so happens that the man behind it is the reason why you have to step away. You know it’s the only way you could finally choose yourself and pursue what you want. At 31, you owe it to yourself to do that.

Your thoughts are disrupted when the familiar building comes into view, and you exit the car and head to your floor, trailing Jungkook this time instead of walking by his side as what you’ve come to do. You can tell that he notices the distance but you don’t want to address it. Being terrible at any form of confrontation, you don’t really want to acknowledge anything that happened. You’ll deal with him if he brings it up, and for all the times that you screwed up, you wish to the heavens that Jungkook lets this one go.

You head to your desk while he heads to his. You make him his coffee then ask him to sign some documents. You focus on his hands as he flips through the pages, preferring to look at those instead of his face. But it’s those fingers that pressed against you last night, and you shake your head at the memory, even if all you want is to feel them again.

You retrieve the papers, your heart stopping when he doesn’t let them go right away. Your eyes widen and you still don’t look at him, even as you anticipate him to say something.

“___.”

“Mr. Min asked to meet with you after lunch,” you cut him off again before he could say more.

“I know. That email was sent to you and me.”

“Yes, sir. I was just making sure.”

He lets go of the papers now and you bow before quickly heading out. You just know he had his eyebrows scrunched at you. He’s probably trying to make sense of how jittery you seem and though he may know why, you’re not sure if he knows why.

You get through the morning in one piece. You attend your meeting while Jungkook attends his own with his father. You grab a quick lunch with Do-hyun, whose narration of her love life takes up the whole half hour, then you return to your tasks once you finish.

Hyper-focused on the file you’re reviewing, Yoongi’s usually unenthusiastic greeting catches you off guard, causing your lips to miss the hot tea that you’re about to drink. You jerk, spilling all of it on you. You subsequently hit the saucer that’s on the edge of the table; it falls on the floor and breaks.

“Fuck!” You whisper yell, as you feel the drink pool on your skirt.

“Shit, is it burning?” Yoongi asks worriedly.

He immediately rushes to your side and grabs some paper towels from the cabinet, placing them on your lap and on the floor.

“Don’t move so you don’t spread the broken pieces,” he instructs. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m just uncomfortable,” you groan, with your knees awkwardly touching each other and your thighs squeezed to keep the liquid from spreading.

You’re at least in a black skirt but you know the stain will still be visible. That’s the least of your problems though, as Jungkook arrives from his meeting and heads to you with a folder, only to find Yoongi kneeling on the floor next to you. Jungkook’s eyes widen, seemingly scandalized at what this looks like, and they flit from you to his friend, whose calm face quickly turns into one of panic.

“She spilled her tea and the saucer broke,” Yoongi explains, raising the soiled paper towels as evidence. He tells you to move back so he can place them over the shards while Jungkook looks on intently. “Are you good? Do you have spare clothes?” Yoongi asks you.

“Uh, ye-yeah,” you manage to say, hating how frozen you seem to be. With the tea having been absorbed, you grab your bag from your cabinet, the one you’ve started to keep and bring with you during trips in case you get stranded again, then throw the towels in the trash bin. “I’ll just go get changed.”

You scurry towards the washroom and leave the men alone, knowing that Yoongi will hold the fort for both of you.

Back inside, Jungkook eyes Yoongi as he calls for maintenance to clean up the mess.

“She spilled her tea and the saucer broke,” Yoongi says again. “She couldn’t move and I just cleaned up.”

“I heard you the first time,” Jungkook states.

“Just making sure, so your mind doesn’t think of whatever it thinks about,” Yoongi shrugs. “But is she okay? She seems a bit out of it.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook looks away. “Don’t you usually know those things?”

“Well, I assume that since you’ve gotten closer, you would know. Unless it’s about you… Were you mean to her again?”

Yoongi’s unusual scowl is one that Jungkook is secretly terrified of but he acts unaffected, merely shaking his head in response and to dismiss the assumption. He’ll admit that his friend’s statement is quite bittersweet, though. Yes, you and Jungkook have both gotten closer and there hasn’t been an incident in months where you could’ve had a reason to be down because of him.

Unless last night counts, which is something he’s still wrapping his head around.

He thinks back to that moment right by your desk. You were so close. And he was so close to doing something more than just holding onto your waist. He saw you eye his lips and he did the same but the realization of where you both were - in a semi-open space in the office - reminded him of his limits. Sure, it was after-hours and no one would have any reason to be on the floor at that time, but it still felt too exposed and he didn’t want either of you to be put in such a compromising position, even if every part of his body was aching to kiss you.

He wouldn’t have known you were talking about him if it weren’t for the way you held him close and that unfamiliar look of yearning in your eyes. At that moment, he let himself hope that he’s who you wanted, even if he’s also the same man you believed wouldn’t cross his boundaries for you.

Even then, you had been so bold, so honest. He wished he was as brave and as capable to express his desires as you were. He never thought you’d feel anything for him - him, the one who made your life miserable for weeks, the one who treated you unfairly because you made him feel - and want - things he couldn’t understand and control. Your calm and warm nature made him think he wasn’t anyone special. He dismissed whatever part of him that thought otherwise because he couldn’t hope for something he couldn’t have.

But last night, the way you looked at him also made him feel like all he desired was within reach, like you were within his grasp. Your lips were everything he wanted all over him. Your soft breaths were what he wanted to take in. You were all he wanted to taste and touch and hear, and he’d been so, so close to crossing a line that he said he wouldn’t because he was afraid it would push you away and that’s the last thing he wants to do.

He was overwhelmed but he was just as scared, believing that there’s no turning back if something had happened. He almost stepped over the line but pulled back just as quickly, and now it seems that that’s what’s keeping you at a distance. Because as you return to your desk, you merely bow at him then go through the folder of documents he’d given you.

“Yoongi and I will just meet for an hour,” he says. “Please be ready with the Arts Center opening event budget that I’ll go through with Hoseok later.”

“That’s noted, sir.”

Jungkook sighs in disappointment as you don’t spare him a glance. He just wants to see those eyes again, the ones that yearned for him last night, the ones that asked him - almost challenged him - to get closer. But he’d been the coward who let you go, and now he doesn’t know how to turn back from this.

He enters his room then turns around to face Yoongi.

“I feel so much and I don’t know what to do.”

“I know,” his friend hums, feeling relieved that Jungkook can now acknowledge something he’d known for a while now. But Yoongi also knows that it’s not that simple, and while he knows of the possibility that you feel the same, reciprocated feelings don’t always mean happy endings. “Just don’t… just don’t hurt her,” he adds.

“Why do I feel like whatever I do, it’s what I’ll end up doing anyway?”

“She’ll know when you mean it and when you don’t. And you know what helps?”

“What?”

“Letting her know that hurting her isn’t what you want to do. You’ve got a lot to say, Jungkook, I know it,” Yoongi remarks. “Just be brave enough to say them.”

Yoongi’s words linger in Jungkook’s mind for the rest of the day, especially during the times that he peeks through the window to get a glimpse of you. You seem determined not to look his way, as you don’t even attempt to look at his direction all afternoon. There is a lot he’s got to say, he just doesn’t know what they are or how to say them. It’s always been that way when it comes to you - he feels so much, but he's unable to let you know.

Despite your avoidance all day, he feels your absence even more when you leave at 6PM, on the dot, without sparing him a glance. He could run after you and ask to talk. He wouldn’t know how to start that conversation though, but if it would bring you to finally look at him or say his name, then it would be enough.

He just wants to know what last night meant for you. And if it means what he hopes it does, then maybe it isn’t about turning back but moving forward. He knows it will be complicated, but he wants to figure it out with you. He’ll choose the path where he gets to be around you, close to you. Always.

Jungkook pulls out the bottle of whiskey he keeps in his drawer to momentarily drown out these thoughts. For some, liquor gives them courage. For him, he drinks it because he’s afraid to be brave.

As he replays the way you looked at him last night, he wonders to himself what he’s more scared of - never having you close enough, or losing you completely.

The three films you watch in the cinema that Saturday afternoon are a good distraction to all the thoughts in your head. You occasionally do this because watching other people’s lives play out in film gives you something to ponder about. Sometimes, you let it inspire you to live differently. Other times, it allows you a peek into a life much more exciting than the one you have. In some instances, it gives you a sense of relief that yours is uneventful, lacking in drama and intrigue.

At this moment, you’re not quite sure what you want out of it other than to forget. What exactly, you’re not sure. Is it the way you felt when Jungkook held you? Is it the way he seemed to want more and then nothing at all? Or is it the hope you had that you’d found someone you were willing to give a bit of yourself to, only for the glass to shatter because that’s not what you do - you don’t desire for things not meant for you; you don’t open yourself to heartbreak like that.

Jungkook has always made you feel a lot of things. This time is no different. But this time it also means more. You could lose him completely or have something with him that could be beautiful. One would hurt right away and the other could hurt you down the road. You don’t know which one you’re willing to suffer through.

Suddenly you wish you didn’t get to this point at all. You could’ve left when you had the chance. You could’ve let him not mean to you this much.

You continue to wallow in the sadness. You eat dinner at a ramen place before going home and settling in bed with your best friends on video call. You tell them about the past two days and narrate your moments with Jungkook during the team building that you left out when you spoke to them about it. Looking at them through the screen, you see a mix of understanding and frustration on their faces.

“Why are you avoiding him, hun?” Soomin asks, her eyes soft and comforting.

“Because I’m so embarrassed,” you groan, burying your face on the pillow. “I was so… shameless. I don’t even know what got into me. He just looked at me and I… lost all sense. Who was I to assume that moment would end well? That he’d reciprocate that honesty?”

“And you think not talking about it will rid you of that embarrassment?” She wonders.

“No. But it’s at least better than facing it,” you frown. “I’m not good with words nor feelings. And I’m sure that neither is he. I’m just trying to be professional now because I obviously wasn’t.”

You leave out your fears about meeting his eyes and hearing what he has to say. Even if he returns whatever you feel, there’s so much burden tied to that and you don’t think you’re ready for it. You don’t think you’re ready for any of this.

“It doesn’t seem sustainable though,” Soomin points out. “You’re together all the time. You’ve created a routine and a dynamic that you’ve gotten so used to. It takes more effort to avoid the whole thing, don’t you think?”

“I guess but… we’re all busy with the Arts Center opening. And I plan on tending my resignation right after,” you explain. “There’s no time to talk about feelings. I’ll just let it die down. It’s stupid to have them in the first place.”

The prolonged silence prompts you to turn towards her. “You don’t agree with me, do you?”

“I just don’t think it’s stupid to be feeling what you’re feeling,” Soomin replies. “You spend so much time together. You’re bound to form some attachment and develop affection for him, regardless of how things started. I mean, through all the late-nights and early mornings and stresses and comfort in between, there’s something only two of you share and understand. That’s not stupid. That’s how connections are formed, hun.”

Attachment. Connection. They terrify you but they’re things that you desire as well. You don’t know how deep they are when it comes to Jungkook and you don’t know if they’re something he feels towards you, too.

“Maybe you’re just trying to convince yourself that it isn’t that serious,” she adds. “Maybe it’s because you know that it is, and you don’t know if it’s worth pursuing, if it’s worth finding out if he returns it and if being with him is something that can happen.”

You look away, knowing the truth in her words. You turn to Jimin, who’s been unusually quiet all evening.

“What do you think Jimin?” You ask him. “I mean, it’s one thing to feel something and another to act on it and risk everything for it, right?”

“There’s always something you risk once you acknowledge what you feel for another person,” he says after pondering about it. “For me, acting on it just depends on two things. Is it good for me, and is it good for them? In your case, it’s something to really think about. You’re you and he’s him. And you know what I mean. You’ve been wanting to walk away from this company for years, ___. You wanna be something outside of it. How does being with your boss help with that?”

Jimin’s words remind you of something else you’ve been yearning for - that search for who you are outside of your work, outside of all the years you spent working for this family that have become a core part of who you are. For people like you who have to work extra hard for the things you have, it becomes natural for your job to define you as a means of survival. It doesn’t give you power nor influence; it just gives you a means to get to the next day and to give back to the one person who sacrificed everything for you.

As the years went by, it became more difficult to pull away. This family trusts you, and your confidence has only ever increased as an employee of this company, but not as a professional. You’ve been wanting to learn who you are without the burdens you carry, without the need to constantly prove yourself to the people who helped make you, and Jungkook ties you to all this. Whether it’s pursuing him or working for him, you’re afraid you’ll never be brave enough to do things on your own.

You weren’t supposed to be this attached. You weren’t supposed to be this invested. You weren’t supposed to want to be wanted back.

But Jungkook made you care. He made you feel. He made you be brave. And he’s now the one you have to pull away from.

“You’re right,” you sigh. “Maybe in a way, I needed this to happen. I needed this… moment to remind me that I have to leave and I can’t let him be another reason for me to stay, not when I feel what I feel, and not when I don’t know if he feels the same way.”

“What if he does, though?” Soomin asks. “And what if he asks you to stay?”

“Thinking about it now, I hope he doesn’t,” you say. “It’d be much easier for me if he just lets me go. I can finally walk away from all this. And I can get over what I feel.”

“Is that what you really want?” Soomin adds.

You nod in response. “At least I know I’ll be happy outside of working for the company. Who knows what having him in my life would bring me?”

The book cafe in Mapo district boasts of an elegant yet comfortable design. It has three levels that consist of a library and working spaces, but it’s on the first floor that you find yourself in, tucked in one of the corner tables at the back with your iced coffee and fruit tart.

You listen in awe as the author reads excerpts from her newly released book, which she narrates with vigor and emotion. She answers questions about her purpose for writing this specific story, the inspiration for the characters, and interesting things like who she’d cast if it were to become a movie and what the playlist would sound like. It’s the first book launch you’ve ever been to, and despite not being an avid reader, you have a feeling that it won’t be your last.

There’s something about the storytelling and the process of creating something that captivates you. There’s not much of that in your world. It’s all numbers and profits. It’s soulless, if you’re being honest. It doesn’t give you time to feel or live in the moment or actually bask in the work that you do. You’re there to support, to assist, and while that used to be something you were proud of, the past year has made you think that it’s truly time to move on from it. It’s made you desensitized to things like joy and hope and love, which prompts you to realize that those are what have been missing. Working on the Arts Center gave you a taste of it. You’ve come to the point where you want to know how those truly feel like, and the job has hindered you from fully finding it out.

All your emotions for Jungkook take a backseat the more you think about what your life could be, especially while you watch Namjoon gather what seems to be his team, as he congratulates them for a successful launch. They’re all in casual clothes, looking relaxed, relieved, and fulfilled as the event comes to a close and several people approach the author and ask her to sign their books. You can imagine the stress leading up to all this, but there’s satisfaction in putting together something this intimate and meaningful.

“You made it,” the man with the soft smile says, the child-like innocence of his face, a contrast to his very masculine build. “I’m glad those newsletters and email invites work.”

“I think they’re the only ones I actually read,” you say, earning you a brighter smile from him. “But honestly though, it helps that a book cafe is something I wouldn’t mind being in on a Sunday morning.”

“Exactly!” Namjoon beams. “It’s easy to make it a part of your weekend. Whether it translates to immediate sales isn’t the whole point, although that’s great, don’t get me wrong. But as long as there’s foot traffic and increased interest, then it’s a success. Our launches have been gaining traction on social media. And the—shit, sorry. I’m rambling again,” he chuckles. “I doubt you came here with the intention of listening to me talk about what we do and stuff.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” you assure him. “I don’t actually go to things like this but I thought it might be a good way to have a feel of what it’s like working for your company without inconveniencing you. I mean, I haven’t applied yet but I just wanted to see if this is something I’d enjoy doing.”

“And?” He asks in anticipation.

“It kind of is,” you admit. “I don’t know. There’s just something so personal about it.”

“There really is,” Namjoon nods.

His face turns serious now, something that happens when he’s about to go on a speech about whatever it is he feels strongly about. He’s expressive and it’s quite captivating, which is refreshing in a colleague, you realize.

Sitting across from you in your little nook in the cafe, he talks about the journey of this whole process, how he reached out to the author who turned out was trying to contact him as well. He was hoping to publish one of her manuscripts that was shared to him by a friend, but she offered this one instead, a very personal story that she trusted his company would do justice.

“I sat the whole team down and told them what this means for her as an author and as a person, and what that in turn could mean to the readers,” he continues. “There’s so much responsibility but the return is worth more than you could imagine. Of course, it’s not always easy. We have a relatively small team for the amount of things that we have to do but it works. Communication is smooth, accountability is shared, and we build our trust and respect in each other that way. I think that makes it even more worth it in the end.”

“You’re really trying to lure me in, aren’t you?” You laugh.

“Pretty much,” he chuckles. “I just think our meetings are serendipitous. There were two people who were supposed to take on the role but they backed out last minute - on both cases, I see you the next day. The universe probably has plans.”

“It probably does,” you nod, slowly believing him. “The only reason why I haven’t applied yet is because this is all so new to me and I may not be what you’re looking for.”

“But it could be that we’re what you’re looking for,” he counters. “Even if the industry is new to you, if it’s a place you’re comfortable in and that you think will help you grow professionally, then you become what we need. It’s give and take, really. Your approach to the work impacts how you do it. Yes, it’s still a job but it also means a lot more.”

“You’re very good at this,” you say, feeling more at ease as you speak with him, a stranger who has no idea what you’re going through but is somehow saying the exact things you need to hear. “I just have a timeline I’m working around. My company has an important thing coming up in several weeks and I don’t want to leave before then. It’s also why I’ve been delaying applying.”

“Hey, if we see that we’re a good fit for each other, then we can work around your timeline,” he says. “To help with that, maybe we can chat more casually to relieve you of the pressure. I have some things to return to the office not far from here and you can tell me a bit about the work that you do. What do you think?”

It’s a suggestion you take up, so you both start walking a few streets down to a mid-rise building, a structure that sits amidst cozy cafes and small parks.

The Rkive Publishing office is spacious. Instead of solo desks, there are large tables so there are more opportunities for collaborations, but there are small meeting rooms and private spaces as well. There are floor-to-ceiling windows, shelves that are lined with hundreds of books, and quirky art pieces that give the place a unique yet personal touch. It’s leagues different from what you’re used to, and as you appreciate the way the sunlight makes the whole place glow, you start to think that Namjoon may be right - this might just be what you’re looking for.

You disclose who you work for then tell him your functions, narrate how a usual day looks like, and mention the types of people you usually engage with. But you share how you’ve felt lost in the chaos of everything and that you’ve been trying to find purpose in it but have been unable to.

Namjoon purses his lips, attempting to hide a smile, but you call him out on it.

“I’m just trying not to get too excited,” he reasons, giving in and chuckling now. “We need organization, a sense of urgency, a kind of professionalism that someone of your caliber could bring. I don’t want to get my hopes up and yes, there’s a process, but I hope you give us a chance.”

It’s easy to think that this man has no idea what he’s saying, but he’s been talking about going with his gut feeling all morning - he’s said as much that following his heart and doing what feels right for him allowed him to turn the company into what it is right now. Maybe meeting the first time was just a coincidence, but the pull of the universe - of you to this environment and him to you - is just too strong that you can’t help but think that maybe this is the next step for you. For all the challenges you went through all these years, maybe you deserve something a little more smooth sailing this time.

You don’t make any promises but you do assure him that you’ll send him an email. There are obviously other pressing matters that you have to deal with but this has been a good distraction, one that you allow to preoccupy you for the rest of the day.

After saying goodbye, you walk around the neighborhood and spend the afternoon by the river where you wonder about the people surrounding you.

What dilemmas are they facing? What heartbreaks are they trying to move on from? What new adventure are they preparing for? Or maybe, who are they trying to forget? Who’s waiting at home for them? Are they watching the sunset because they know it’s beautiful or because they’ve forgotten that it is?

You let out a breath once the sun has dipped and the sky has turned a dark shade of blue. You feel a mix of awe at its beauty and disappointment because the day has come to an end. You once more have to face the person you’ve been trying not to think about all weekend.

Giving yourself a pep talk, you go to bed that night with the plan of continuing what you did last Friday, which is avoiding any moments and any chances of talking about what happened. If Jungkook brings it up, then you’ll just have to face it and ask him to forget about that night and then deal with the consequences after. But there’s no way that you’ll say anything first; you’ll ride this out for as long as you can.

Avoiding talking to Jungkook about non-work matters - which is really what you only intended to do - is much more difficult when you have to pretend you don’t care about him.

That Monday morning, you stop yourself from asking how he’s doing after spotting the empty whiskey bottle and beer cans in his kitchen bin. While you give him the usual hangover remedy, you stop short of suggesting that he get some rest or buying him his favorite lunch dish.

During the meeting that you accompany him to in the afternoon, you watch him helplessly as his father hounds him with questions about the other projects, adding even more pressure than what he’s currently under, and you look away when he tries to meet your eyes. You used to send him encouragement through your gentle nods and soft smiles but you’re scared you’ll fall into your feelings once again if you do them, knowing that any sign of him needing you is all it would take for you to give in and talk to him, maybe comfort him.

You’ve become so weak for him, you realize that now. His detachment used to put you off and frustrate you, but knowing him the way you do, it’s what makes you want to be there for him; it’s what makes you want to assure him that you’re just there.

But you aren’t, because you’re pushing him away. You’re making him go through his confusion and stress and exhaustion all on his own because you’re a coward, too. You’re scared of your own feelings. You’re scared of them being rejected and you’re scared of them being returned. You didn’t realize just how much you are because you never actually felt something this deeply for anyone, and that terrifies you even more.

Watching him from your desk as he pores through documents on his laptop is hard, too. You’re done for the day but he’s said earlier that he’ll be staying late to finish a few things because there are many distractions at his place. You want to tell him they can wait, that he’ll need to rest and regain his energy for the week ahead, or that some fresh air could help clear his mind.

But you don’t. Instead, you pack your things and head out, knowing that much as it’s your decision to force this distance between both of you, it’s still something you wish you didn’t have to do. You don’t know how long you can sustain it, but somehow you know that once he gives in, so will you, and so all this might as well just be useless or even worse for you.

Mr. Ri picks up on the change the next morning, as he asks if you and Jungkook had an argument on the way to his penthouse.

“There was no argument, ” you answer. “There’s just a lot on my mind and he’s a big part of that. I just… I just don't know how to deal with things, you know?”

“Things like what?” Mr. Ri asks.

“Feelings,” you sigh. “I mean, you said they can’t be helped. And you’re right, I can’t. That’s my big problem right now.”

“Oh, ___,” he says, softly smiling through the rear view mirror.

You can tell he’s trying to comfort you, something he’s told you before he’s unsure how to do. You brush him off, saying you’ll figure it out, and he assures you that you could talk to him and that maybe, you need to just let it out to someone who knows what you’re battling against. You express your appreciation then inhale deeply once you arrive at Jungkook’s building.

The clanking sound of plates surprises you when you enter the penthouse. You walk cautiously towards the kitchen and find Jungkook already dressed in his work attire, placing the basket of toasted bread in the middle of the dining table where you spot the two plates with eggs in each. You wonder if you’re late, given that he’d gone ahead and made breakfast for both of you already.

“You’re on time,” he says after seeing you check your watch. “I was just up early. I couldn’t really sleep. I think I have too much on my mind.”

“I still could have made this for you,” you say so softly, Jungkook almost misses it.

“I didn’t mind,” he answers, wanting to say more, like that he thought it would be nice to make something for you for a change, or that he hopes you could see the effort.

But he keeps them to himself, just like the many other things that he doesn’t feel ready to verbalize. He hasn’t stopped thinking about you since Thursday night, and he thinks that the distance you’re creating has made his desire even stronger, but so has the fear.

He spent the weekend downing alcohol and then boxing for hours to get rid of the hangover. The lemon ginger tea he made didn’t really work. He placed the bandage on his beat-up knuckles incorrectly, not like how perfectly you’d done it once. And the chicken noodle soup he ordered when he wasn’t feeling well last night didn’t taste as good as yours.

His mornings aren’t the same without the briefest touch from you from fixing his tie, or from the casual conversations during breakfast or in the car. There’s not much of your voice or your laughter that he hears, and definitely none of your smile that always encouraged him, that always assured him. This continues for the rest of the day, as he barely feels your presence unless he asks for it. And even then, it almost feels like you’re not there at all.

He feels so lost without you, unable to focus and function properly without your guidance and your care. He doesn’t know how or when he’s allowed himself to need you this much but it all feels so new yet familiar. All he wants is to be near you again but he admits that seeing you consistently pull away hurts him more than anything.

It’s why that Wednesday, he settles for only minimal glances at you in the car, why he conducts his morning meeting in a cafe instead, why he has the blinds on in his room all afternoon, and why he stays to work late and informs you that he’ll go straight to the Arts Center the next day so he’ll just meet you in the office.

He does all those so he’s forced to be around you less, so he doesn’t look up from his desk to find out that you don’t look his way anymore, so that it’s less difficult when you don’t do your usual routine with him. He at least won’t feel as bad when you don’t ask how he’s feeling if you don’t see him look terrible in the morning after not being able to sleep, or when you don’t fix his necktie for the fifth time this past week if he’s not around you in the first place.

You’ve been going out of your way to avoid him and if he had a bit more courage, he’d probably be able to ask what Thursday night was about and if you’d really wanted to kiss him like he did.

But he’s afraid of two things - that you’d ask him to forget all of it, or that you’d both have to figure out how to move forward if the feelings are indeed mutual. There are so many things that could go wrong but just as many that could go right - he’s scared to hurt you either way. And like he’s always said, he doesn’t know how to handle all of this; he doesn’t know how to talk about what he feels.

Thursday morning comes and while you’re relieved that you don’t have to tiptoe around Jungkook again in his own apartment and feel suffocated by the tension, you won’t lie and say that you deeply felt his absence. You also won’t deny that seeing him walk towards his office without sparing you a glance hurt you a little. You know him enough that he’s probably giving you the space that you’ve insisted on, but still, a part of you wonders if he’s just accepted it, too.

And when you hand him his notes for his late afternoon meeting then when he leaves for the CEO’s office without a look of acknowledgment, you worry that he’s become impatient, that he’ll keep pulling away for as long as you are, and that you’ll be so far apart that you’ll start to wonder if you’d come close to him at all.

But you did this, you remind yourself. You’d been the one to get close, to expect, and then to detach because you were so afraid of what would happen next, and what that would mean for you. He’s probably the last thread you’re holding onto, connecting you to this world that you’ve been planning on leaving for so long. Maybe you’re also scared that if he asked you to stay, you would, and the last thing you want is for him to be the reason why you can’t let go, and then resent him for it.

You sigh in your seat as the various thoughts plague your mind. You decide to go to the pantry for a cup of tea, knowing you have some time before Jungkook’s meeting with his father is scheduled to end.

The support team’s office is unnervingly quiet at 7PM with only Mr. Ri around, shaking his leg against the chair while browsing on his desktop. He greets you when you enter and then joins you to make his cup of coffee - his fourth for the day, he says - before you both head out the pantry and sit by the meeting table.

There aren’t any words said as you both blow away the steam from your respective hot drinks, merely letting the tranquility of the evening envelop the two of you. A few minutes pass and Mr. Ri finally looks up and asks why you’re still here, to which you reply that you wanted to be around when Jungkook’s meeting finishes in case he needs you to do something.

“There’s no need to drop me home,” you tell him. “I can manage on my own.”

“You know Jungkook won’t like that,” Mr. Ri responds. “He has strict instructions to drive for you whenever you stay out late. I can’t and won’t disobey those orders.”

You know this, which is why you sit in silence with your hands on your lap as if you’re being scolded, and you nod.

“Okay,” you say softly.

“He’s worried, you know?” Mr. Ri says after a while. “He’s been asking me how you’re doing, as if you’re not at the point in your relationship where he can directly talk to you. But I’ve actually been worried about him this past week. He stays up late to work, then goes home to work out. He’s not himself lately, always out of it and just… sad.”

“Did he… did he say anything else? About us, specifically?”

“He didn’t tell me if anything happened but I’m guessing something did, something serious enough that you’d avoid him for days and personal enough that he won’t confront you about it.”

Your face falls, guilt painting it, something Mr. Ri picks up.

“It’s about your feelings, isn’t it?” He asks. “You like him and you can no longer deny it.”

You nod in confirmation, unable to verbalize the words that your heart has been screaming for weeks.

“Is it so hard to admit? Is it so hard to talk about?” The older man asks. “I mean, he doesn’t tell me anything but I’ve known that man his whole life, ___. I’ll bet a lot and say that he feels the same way about you. Why are you both putting all your effort into avoiding each other instead of talking it out?”

“Because you know us, Mr. Ri. We’re the worst at these things,” you shake your head, choosing to disregard his statement that Jungkook may be reciprocating the feelings, knowing you’re not ready to think about it. “And you know this, too. It’s not just about what I feel. It’s about who he is and who I am and what those imply. It’s this complicated situation that I wouldn’t even be in if I just… if I was just strong enough to leave the first time. Or the second time.”

“Hey, you know it wasn’t about that,” he says. “You were always strong. You held on even when things were difficult—”

“Yeah, I just held on and now I’m here, caught in between liking my boss and wanting to stay away from him, from his family,” you groan in frustration.

But you utter the thoughts that you only rarely entertain, only because they’re what held you back all those years ago.

“Am I being selfish, for wanting to leave after everything?” You ask. “They’ve been so good to me. And now that I crossed the line and fell for their son, I want to let everything go.”

“Is that really why you want to resign? Because you like Jungkook?”

“No… it isn’t just about that,” you sigh. “Or it is. A big part of it, but also not. I… you know I’ve been thinking about this since the whole thing with Mrs. Byun happened, and that was six years ago. But then CEO Jeon asked me to help Hoseok and I stayed. And it was even more important for him that I be there for Jungkook. And I am but now what? How can I continue knowing that I like him? And how can I find myself and learn who I am outside of this when I’m here, when this is all I’ve ever known and all I’ve ever given myself to? They’ll always be good to me. I feel selfish by staying, but I also feel that way if I leave.”

“None of that makes you selfish, ___. You always had a reason to leave and you could have, but there was also always gonna be a reason for you to stay,” he says. “But they were their reasons, not yours. Whether you stay despite what you feel for Jungkook or leave to find yourself and seek the happiness you deserve, you’re not being selfish.”

You look at the man whom you’ve known for years and he sees in your eyes a woman who’s just asking for any kind of comfort, of any kind of assurance because no else is around to do that.

“We do what we can at every moment, and we can live with our choices if we know they’re the best one we can make at that time,” he continues. “Whatever it is you decide to do, I hope you do it for you. You’re the only person you have to look out for.”

Right outside the door, Jungkook remains unmoving as he processes everything he’d heard, while you continue to talk inside, completely oblivious to how you’ve rendered him paralyzed.

Jungkook’s meeting with his father ended much sooner than he expected. They merely discussed some happenings with the Board and the lunch that they’ll be hosting on Saturday to welcome some of their family’s long-time friends who are flying in from Europe.

He headed to the support office immediately to tell Mr. Ri that he plans to go home soon but hadn’t known you were there as well. But then again, you and their trusted aide - who’s been his father’s chauffeur, bodyguard, and personal assistant for decades - spend a lot of time together, so it didn’t feel off to Jungkook that you’d both be talking. He’s asked the older man to look out for you, too, especially with regards to things that he feels isn’t really his place.

Jungkook didn’t hear much at first, initially deciding to just walk back to his office and call, but once he heard Mr. Ri asking you about resigning, he stopped in his tracks. He felt foolish to be listening in on a conversation he’s not a part of, especially since it’s also because of him.

It should’ve delighted him to hear you say that you like him. Jungkook could’ve only dreamt up that reality and it still feels surreal. You didn’t have a reason to lie and the fact that he isn’t the only one seemingly overwhelmed by his own feelings should be a good thing.

But that also seems to be your reason for wanting to leave, and the thought breaks his heart in ways he can’t explain. You’ve apparently been planning on leaving for years but never got around to do so. If you stayed when his father asked you to, would you do the same if he asked? And he believes that up until last week, your relationship had become the most comfortable it’s ever been. You seem happy here, but why did it also seem like you just wanted to get away?

The thoughts make his head hurt, and while a part of him wishes he hadn’t heard anything, he at least knows you plan on leaving. And that’s something he absolutely cannot bear.

The sounds of the chairs being fixed disrupt his thoughts. When he hears Mr. Ri suggest that you should start packing up, Jungkook quietly walks back to his office and nonchalantly calls the older man to inform him that he plans on staying up late and that he should drop you home already. If Mr. Ri notices the odd tone of his voice, he doesn’t say anything. He merely expresses his confirmation and not long after, Jungkook hears some shuffling outside his closed door.

“Is there anything you need from me before I leave, Mr. Jeon?” You call out, the walls in between both of you feeling higher and thicker than ever before.

He knows that you know that he no longer asks you to do anything at this hour, and he comforts himself by thinking that it’s your way of letting him know that you’re still there. But the thought is short-lived, as he once again plays the conversation he’d overheard in his mind.

“There’s none,” he says pointedly. “You may leave.”

It takes a while but he eventually hears you walk out. Jungkook feels himself breathe for the first time in the last 15 minutes, before he feels suffocated once again.

Maybe pulling away last week when he’d been so close gave you the idea that he didn’t want you at all, and maybe that had affected you more than he expected. Maybe him, creating more distance that you’d initiated, made you think that that’s what he wanted after all that. Perhaps his being a coward in facing his own feelings had pushed you away, too, and if you’re scared of what you feel for him, maybe letting you know that he feels the same way is what will make you stay. He could be the happiness you’re searching for, Jungkook convinces himself. He could be what you want and need.

And he already knows that you’re all that for him. Whatever rules he created for himself and the limits he imposed are all pointless if he doesn’t have you around at the end of it. If his life after all this doesn’t have you in it, there’s no happiness for him. A new job for you could take you anywhere, maybe far away from where he is; it could lead you to someone, someone who isn’t him.

He hates that an overheard conversation about you resigning is what will take for him to finally be honest about what he feels for you. And that potentially losing you by his side is the push he needs to let you know that he wants you, that he wants everything with you, and that he hopes you want the same.

It’s 9:30 PM by the time he enters the car, his head hazy from the two glasses of whiskey he had. Mr. Ri calls him out on another night of him drinking in the office and orders him to get straight to bed like he’d done a few times before when Jungkook had been too stressed and too stubborn to rest. He merely nods though but he follows through, skipping dinner then mindlessly taking a shower before falling asleep in bed after finishing a bottle of beer.

The ringing of the alarm causes Jungkook to grunt and turn off his phone for the peace and quiet that he needs, given the throbbing of his head. But in the silence, he hears the soft knocks on his door, so consistent that he decides to just open it and ask the person on the other side to stop.

But of course, it’s you, and the way you quickly turn your head away reminds him that he’s got nothing but his sweatpants on and he’s too sleepy for anything else to register.

“It’s 7AM, Mr. Jeon. You have an executive meeting at 8,” you tell him, voice so soft and so far away.

“Fuck,” he groans, rubbing his temples to massage the pain away. “I’ll just take a shower. Don’t make breakfast anymore. We leave in 20 minutes.”

“Noted, sir,” you say, then walk back towards the kitchen.

It’s 15 minutes later when his bedroom door opens and he nervously walks over to you. Unable to still remove the image of his half-naked form in your mind, you focus your gaze elsewhere, but he forces it on him when he asks you to fix his necktie, the first time he’d ever done so.

“I was rushing,” he explains.

You nod and head to him, hating how your hands slightly shake at feeling so close to him again. You can feel his breath as you watch the rise and fall of his chest. He probably feels as anxious as you, perhaps no longer used to this routine after you stopped it days ago. But you manage without sparing him a glance, keeping your distance and your eyes focused on anything else but him from the walk down to the car and throughout the ride to work.

It’s difficult for you to look at him, not only because you’re ashamed but because you’re afraid of what you’ll see. Maybe his eyes will tell of his acceptance of this new dynamic. Maybe they’ll reflect anger and frustration at how you’ve disrupted his routine. Or maybe they’ll show sadness - which is what you’re most terrified of - because that’s your weakness. Any time he looks like he needs comfort or he needs you, you know you’d give in, you know you’d want to be there even if you’ve spent the past week staying as far away as possible.

You know you don’t have much time left here. The Arts Center opens over a month from now and you’ve decided to tender your resignation soon after. You know you should be savoring whatever moments you have with him and perhaps that’s what saddens you the most because you don’t know what will come after.

Your happiness isn’t here, and staying to find out if it’s with him isn’t worth it, not when there’s baggage you carry; not when your own past and insecurities weigh you down.

Arriving in the office, you rush to your desk then walk to his room to give him the notes he needs for the meeting. You turn towards him slowly when he calls you, your name in his voice suddenly sounding foreign.

“Can you prepare me lemon ginger tea? Please?”

His voice is soft, as if he feels burdensome for making such a request. You want to give in so badly and ask how he’s feeling. But you stop yourself. It’s not the place nor time.

You accompany his tea with pastries, your own request for him to have breakfast, and you get your own, in response to him instructing you to do so. You see from your periphery that he’s trying to catch your attention as the meeting starts, but with this, you hold back. You don’t want to see what you now know would be sadness in his eyes.

Jungkook has entered the deepest nook of your heart, you realize. You don’t know how you let him get there, and you don’t know how to push him out.

“Another night of drinking, huh?” Hoseok’s unusually somber voice disrupts Jungkook’s thoughts as he zones out during lunch. “The Arts Center getting you that stressed and anxious?”

Jungkook looks at his cousin questioningly.

“I know how you look when you’re tired and this isn’t it,” Hoseok responds. “You’re hungover.”

“I’m fine,” Jungkook huffs, not wanting to get into this with a man who would know when he’s lying.

“You should be, Kook. There’s a lot going on these next few weeks and we need you at your best. Your team has worked so hard for the Arts Center,” Hoseok reminds him. “So trust them. And don’t let them down.”

As always, his words hit Jungkook where they should. Whatever’s going on in his personal life - even if it involves you, his assistant - he has to be professional first, and that means making sure that everything is ready for the launch in six weeks. There’s a lot he has to meet and prepare for, and he doesn’t know how you’re able to do it. You may be distancing yourself from him but you’re still able to focus and carry out your tasks accordingly. You’ll be fine without him, he thinks. But if you’ll go on thinking that he doesn’t feel the same way about you, he knows he’ll regret it. He knows he’ll regret it even more if he doesn’t ask you to stay.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Jungkook assures his cousin. “I’ve been out of it but I’ll get my shit together.”

“Good. I don’t have to remind you that there’s a lot riding on this. But ___ is there to help. I’m here, too. You’ve got people who believe in you, okay?” Hoseok smiles, a slice of comfort that Jungkook didn’t know he needed. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Jungkook nods and heads back to his office after a full morning has passed, tricking himself into thinking that things will indeed be okay. He just needs to find the courage to face you, finally talk to you, ask you about that night, and tell you what he feels.

But even getting you alone proves to be difficult, as you have your own lunch plans that he didn’t want to interfere with, and your own deadlines that he set that he knows you’ll make sure to meet.

Jungkook gets caught up in the afternoon in another meeting with some of the Board members who came to visit. Biting his lip in frustration, he manages to not lose his mind as he sits through it, merely hoping to the heavens that you haven’t left yet despite the late hour.

He speed walks down the hallway once he gets to his floor and almost panics when he sees your work space empty. But he spots your unfinished cup of coffee and he knows you won’t leave without cleaning up. He briefly sighs in relief when he hears shuffling from inside his room, walking closer to find you standing by his desk, with your back facing the door. You place a folder on his tray for signatures and a bound manual for review, then turn around and jerk in surprise when you see him standing there.

“I didn’t know your meeting had ended, sir,” you say, the formality grating his ears. All he wants is to hear you speak to him casually again, for you to call him by his name once more.

“It just did,” he hums. “I didn’t know if you were still here. I wanted to see you before you could leave.”

His words catch you off-guard but you try to look unaffected.

“Is there anything else you need me to do, sir?” You ask, knowing that he’s past giving you work at this hour on a Friday, but you’re too nervous to think of what else he needs you for.

“No. I…” he stutters. “You, uh, you’ve been avoiding me,” he manages to say, his eyes pleading for you to look at him.

But still, you don’t.

“I’m with you everyday, Mr. Jeon,” you insist, your tone cold. “I can’t possibly be avoiding you.”

“You haven’t looked at me all week.”

As if in reflex, you glance at him, then shift your eyes on the couch to your left.

“That doesn’t count,” he says, his voice oozing in desperation for you to just spare him some time, something you’ve never heard before.

So you give in, as you slowly meet his eyes, and you’re reminded why you didn’t want to do it in the first place. They’re so sullen. Tired, it seems, but just lacking in light. They were always so expressive, even when they’re angry, and even more when they’re sad.

“I just…” you start, knowing that with all that’s happened and with all the stress and pressure he has to endure, you can’t be another one in his list to have to try to figure out. You at least owe it to him to be honest.

You look at the door, suddenly conscious of who might wander in your area, and Jungkook takes your cue, closing it once you nod.

“So, why have you been avoiding me?” He asks again, his voice gaining a bit of life now that you’ve given him a chance to talk.

“I was just ashamed,” you admit, looking away as the scene from last week plays in your mind again. “I said things I shouldn’t have and they made you uncomfortable and—”

“How do you know that?” He interjects.

“Because you pulled away!” You say too loudly, lowering your head in embarrassment at the clear frustration you’re expressing. “I thought you wanted to… uh…”

“Kiss you,” he finishes, earning him the slightest of nods from you.

“But you didn’t and I just felt so embarrassed,” you say, your lips quivering now at how much you’re saying, at how much you’re baring yourself to him, unsure if he’ll do the same. “That was completely out of line.”

“You weren’t wrong though,” he almost whispers as he slowly walks towards you. “About what I wanted to do. You seemed to want that, too, but we were out there and I… I was scared that if I’d done anything you weren’t ready for, then I’d push you away. I still did anyway. Because you’ve spent the entire week avoiding me, talking to me formally, not fixing my tie…”

You stop the giggle that you almost let out, but you can’t help your tiny smile as he whines about what you’ve been purposely doing.

“I just didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to face you after that,” you explain, knowing there’s so much more to say but that you’ll start with this. “But you avoided me, too,” you suddenly pout.

“What did you expect me to do?” He exclaims. “You did it first! You know I’m not good with these things.”

“Neither am I.”

Jungkook controls himself from kissing the frown off your face and instead, he walks closer. He gets to appreciate you now as he shamelessly eyes your form, the pastel-colored long sleeved blouse tucked inside your white skirt making his heart race.

He spots your shy smile as you try to turn away, and he steps closer, wanting to see more.

“You still aren’t gonna look at me?” He asks, the soft desperation in his voice prompting you to be bold again.

“I can’t. I might lose my mind,” you admit, groaning right after at your own honesty.

“I’d quite like that,” he hums. “I… I was actually losing my mind all week. It didn’t feel right to have you feel so far away. I wanted to fix things but I didn’t know how.”

“That makes both of us,” you sigh, allowing yourself to finally gaze at him in his black suit, the classic look taking your breath away every time. “But I guess it’s the same with me. I didn’t know how badly I wanted you close until you weren’t anymore.”

You hesitatingly reach out your hand, an attempt to let him know that close is what you want him to be, but also to see for yourself if this is real, if he really is just breaths away from you, and if he could be even closer.

“I’m not pulling away this time,” he assures you, his boyish smile sending your mind in a frenzy.

Your fingers graze his chest, the way it quickly rises and falls telling you that his heart is probably racing as fast as yours. You fiddle with the neck of his tie before pulling it to bring him closer. He follows your lead, stepping forward and meeting your eyes, seeming like he doesn’t want his off of you.

“So uh, are you losing your mind now?” He whispers teasingly.

The way he utters the words with such yearning is a contrast to the shy look on his face. It’s a side of him you’re not ready for, but it’s one you’re thoroughly enjoying. It’s also pushing you to be even more shameless, as you nod and take his hand this time, placing it on your waist so you could feel his touch again. He’s gentle, trailing his fingers up and down your sides.

“I am,” you manage to say, and you wish he could tell by the way you’re panting that his effect on you is way beyond your control now, and that it’s something you want to embrace. You mirror his smile, soft and warm yet full of desire.

He makes his move, placing his hand on your cheek as he eliminates whatever distance is left. And he stands there, just one breath away.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about that night, wishing I’d done things differently,” he heaves, his eyes flitting to your lips constantly, “wishing I had been brave enough to do what I’ve been wanting to do for so long.”

You lick your lips in tandem with his, and once you feel him thumb your cheek, it’s all over for you. With a whisper of his name, you hold your breath, and the next thing you feel is his mouth on yours.

He kisses you deeply, expressing just how much he’s been wanting to do this. You smile as you return his desire, suddenly feeling like you’re floating, as if he’s some dream that you’re able to reach, like he’s that beautiful thing that’s tangible, that you can touch, that you can taste.

You moan once his tongue gains entrance, entangling with yours and dominating you immediately until he’s all you can breathe in. He cups your face, directing it where he wants, while his one hand trails down your back to knead your ass, as if to keep himself steady as he loses himself in you. Your breathing quickens even more as the pleasure rises, and with your fingers palming his chest and gripping his collar, he pushes you against his table.

He cages you and keeps you in place while he devours your lips, and you feel him all over you just as you wanted. You’re hypnotized by his scent, by his warm breath, and by the large hands that now grip your waist and lift you to sit on the edge of his desk.

Your mind is hazy, high on the drug that is his kiss, lust-filled and passionate and relentless. You yearn for him even more the longer you taste him, feel him, and there’s no part of you that wants this to end. Your moans push him to kiss you harder, leaving you a whimpering mess and with a mind that's truly unable to think a single thought outside of this trance-like feeling. His arms now wrap around you, and his hands, seemingly desperate to touch every part of you that he can, trail up and down your back, as if to caress you, as if to say that he won’t stop, that he won’t let you go.

Finally needing air, he removes his lips from yours only to travel to the most sensitive parts of you - on the shell of your ear that his tongue grazes repeatedly, and on your neck that he licks and sucks vigorously. You feel the chills all over your body, and you grind against him to try to satiate that growing need of yours, as you start to feel the dampness in your underwear. His hardening length makes you want everything he can give you, rules and boundaries be damned.

This isn’t like you but you’ve never felt this much pleasure and desire in all your life. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the ecstasy that kissing and feeling him would give. You feel his desperation and desire for you, as he grunts and moans your name, aching to feel more, to do more. You want to live in this moment, and then live it everyday, just take him in and take everything and give him everything.

But you should’ve known that some things are too good to be true. And much as you hope and imagine for things to turn out a certain way in belief that you deserve good things in this world, they don’t. Those don’t happen to people like you. There’s always something underneath it all, as the fantasy shatters like a glass ceiling breaking at his words.

“Stay, ___. Don’t leave,” he hums against you, the tip of his nose gliding against your neck as he takes in your scent. “Please don’t resign. I can’t… I—”

You feel frozen as you process what he’s said. “Wha-what?” You manage to ask, your mind slowly waking up now.

His lips take a pause at devouring your skin and he faces you, his chest heaving and his eyes glassy and pleading as he repeats his words.

“Don’t leave, ___. Don’t resign. Stay with me. I need you next to me.”

“Where is this coming from?” You demand, your heart racing now for a different reason, your anxiety building at how he could’ve known of your plans. You pull away to get a better look at him, with guilt now painting his eyes.

“I… I overheard you and Mr. Ri talking last night,” he admits shamefully. “I didn’t mean to. I was going to just walk away but you talked about leaving and what you feel about me and I just… I froze. I don’t want you to go anywhere, ___. I need you here.”

The silence drags on as you let his words settle, words you thought you wanted to hear. But not like this, you realize. This isn’t how you imagined he’d tell you he wants to be with you.

He attempts to cup your cheek again but you pull yourself back, the rejection breaking him this time.

“You knew I wanted to kiss you last week,” you start, your voice shaking as the pieces fit together. “You knew yet you pulled away. You let a whole week pass with this distance, with no attempt from you to talk to me about it, or to even tell me what you feel but then you learn last night, after listening to a conversation you had no part in, that I like you. And tonight, you kiss me because suddenly you need me? Because you want me to stay next to you?”

“I—” Jungkook starts, unable to say anything as you put it the way you do.

He’s wanted you for so long and always had reasons to keep his distance. He tried to gain the courage to talk to you this week, even as you avoided him, but he didn’t. There was just so much fear, so much worry about what he should do, about you asking him to forget about it, about possibly pushing you away even more. He didn’t intend for things to happen this way but for you to think that he’s only doing this in an attempt to keep you from resigning is all kinds of wrong, even if in hindsight, that’s exactly what it looks like. He could’ve said something earlier, he could’ve told you what he felt, and he would’ve been brave enough if he really wanted to.

“You knew how I felt and you kissed me so I’d stay,” you repeat. “You hate change and me leaving will change everything for you and this… this is how you make sure I don’t.”

Stepping down from the desk, you realize how much you’d lost yourself in him, with your skirt bunched up and your blouse all creased. You fix yourself, suddenly ashamed, and suddenly unsure where you stand. It took so much of you to admit what you felt for him and now it seems that he hadn’t been into you the way that you thought.

You want him with you, but he wants you here, that’s the difference.

“I… want you,” Jungkook says, the words suddenly hard for him to say, as he gets choked up at the distance you’re creating. “I guess I always have. I just couldn’t do anything because I had to be professional and there were boundaries I couldn’t cross. But I couldn’t help it. Those don’t matter to me anymore. Only you do.”

His pleading eyes ask you to believe him, to understand him this time. But your silence and the way you look at him in disappointment tell him it’s not something you’re able to do.

“I never thought you’d feel the same way,” he continues. “And now I know that you do and that just means we can figure it out, right? Staying means we get to be together everyday. We… we get to have this everyday. Don’t you… don’t you want that?”

This is when you realize that much as you want to believe in his sincerity, it’s hard when he thinks of you as a necessity. You make his life easier. You’re his assistant, after all. And that makes you unsure if he only wants you because he needs you, or if they’re just the same thing to him.

He didn’t even ask you why you wanted to leave. Maybe that should tell you enough.

“___, please. I just want to be with you.”

It’s also at this moment when you realize just how much you’ve fallen for him. You’d feared that if he asked you to stay, you would, and that means putting another person’s needs ahead of yours again, just like what you’ve done all these years. Staying would mean that you’d be unable to find yourself outside of all this, and you’ve given up too much not to choose your own happiness this time, even if it means saying goodbye to the person who also makes you happy.

Finding what little strength you have in you, you turn to him. “I don’t want to stay, Jungkook,” you say, your heart breaking as you utter the words, even more when you ask him to forget about everything that happened tonight. “We can’t do this. I can’t do this with you. Not like this. I’m so sorry.”

With your smashed heart in your hands, you do the hard thing and walk out the door, leaving in your wake a man whose broken pieces that you’ve put together all shattered once again.

Walking down the block to get to the bus stop feels like a marathon, as the street feels so long with the heavy burden you’re carrying weighing you down too much. But you manage to get there, only to decide that you’d much rather spend the ride home on your own. You turn to a street to hail a cab then realize once you get in one that it was the spot where Jungkook had seen you, drenched under the rain with a sprained ankle.

He healed parts of you that night, with his quiet assurance that you didn’t have to go through your struggles on your own. You’d hold on to that thought months later, though you’re unsure about now - much as things hurt at this moment, all you want is to be alone.

You get off two stops early and mindlessly walk towards the convenience store, thinking that some snacks for dinner would do. You don’t really feel like eating but your body’s needs are greater than your own desire to eat. Walking down the aisles, you decide you’re only good for some cup noodles tonight. You don’t even deserve boiled eggs that you suddenly craved, nor honey chips, and you definitely don’t deserve dessert after what you allowed to happen earlier.

You stop your movements once you realize you’re sitting on the same spot where you and Jungkook had eaten when he drove you home that night he took you to the park. It had been a terrible evening after that incident with your ex, but Jungkook was the protective one who helped shoulder all the anger that you were too exhausted to feel. He was a reliable and comforting presence, familiar yet new with his warmth. During the occasional moments in the weekend after when your mind would go to that night, you’d think of Jungkook and how he made you feel safe.

It feels too much, so you take your noodles and finish them on the bench outside. You walk home after, letting the crisp evening air envelop you as your mind replays what happened.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to feel someone the way you wanted to feel him, but you suppose that’s why it hurts as much as it does. You wanted him to want you as much as you did, and you were perhaps foolish to think he’d have the same reasons as you. Maybe you were really just stupid for feeling anything in the first place, knowing your place in his world. You’re everything convenient and easy and familiar and despite the week of walking on eggshells around him, you gave in so quickly. He knew what to do when it came to you.

And maybe that’s on you. You allowed yourself to feel so much for a man whose life is so intertwined with yours that it’s hard to know what’s real. Yet you know that despite all that, your desire for him is still too strong. It’s why you had to leave right away.

Another moment of him pleading for you to not resign and you might’ve given in again. Another second of hearing him ask you to be with him and you would’ve believed him - that there was sincerity in all that, that he’d be with you regardless if you stayed in the company or not. Now you’re left with the thought that the convenience was what he wanted, that as he crossed the line, it was all or nothing for him. And that you’d be the weak one, willing to give up what else you could be outside of all this just for him.

Perhaps you’re also asking for too much. He’s used to a life without much consequences to his actions. There’s a lot he doesn’t know, especially what you had to endure and give up to be here and what you want out of life now that you’re old enough to take control of it. Maybe for him, asking you to stay was that declaration and proof of his feelings; doing so took so much out of him already that thinking of what life would be like without being with you everyday was too hard of a reality to accept or work around.

You’re too out of it that you don’t realize that you’ve been standing outside your door. You’re thankful for the weekend at least. You’ll spend half of it in bed, and the other half preparing yourself for how you’ll face him again, and how you’ll finally say goodbye.

You enter and sigh at the warmth inside. Dropping your bag on the floor, you stand by your tiny dining table and take a bite off the apple you find in your fridge. You gaze at your shelf, the one filled with photos of your family and friends and a few more of different sceneries that you took using the disposable camera that Jungkook had gifted you for your birthday. It’s another reminder of how much a part of your life he’s become, how, of all the people in the world, he’d been the one to show you that capturing moments is a gift you shouldn’t take for granted.

You often wondered what moments he liked to capture. He doesn’t have photos in his penthouse other than those of structures and buildings that are artistically taken. There are framed old blueprints and historical pieces but nothing of him and the people in his life.

Maybe he doesn’t have good enough memories he wants to keep. For a short moment, you wished that the times he shared with you are ones he’d like to hold onto. But maybe the idea would hurt more - you’ll just be a memory like he would be to you.

You always wanted to keep only good ones of him, but the sight of him rooted in his spot and in shock as you turned him down is far from something you want to remember. He’s something you didn’t know you wanted, but he stands between you and the life you’ve always wished for yourself - one where you get to decide, to be free, to be happy.

He’ll let you go and forget all this, you think to yourself. You’ll be the one who walked away. And he’ll be the one who didn’t run after you.

Jungkook is stunned as he watches your retreating form. The sounds of your heels against the marble floor disappear as he remains unmoving from his spot in his room where he’d kissed you just moments earlier. You felt and tasted just like he imagined, and the moment his lips touched yours, he knew he’d want to keep kissing you over and over again.

It was the first time in a long time that he allowed himself to be honest about how he felt, giddy emotions included. It felt freeing to be able to admit all of that to you after all these months of denying it and walking around eggshells when it came to you. He’d been sure, after last night, that you felt the same way, even more when he felt how your body reacted and how your heart raced, aching for him as much as his heart was yearning for you.

You sounded hypnotizing, too. The way you’d moaned his name ignited something in him that none of the women he’d slept with had ever done before, and he knows it’s because he’d never felt anything genuine for them. They were good for the moment but he knew, especially the instance that he felt you close, that he wanted you for more than that. He wanted the soft touches and the gentle whispers, the longing looks and the intertwined hands. He wanted more than he thought he would, but during his most vulnerable state, he uttered the words he’d been dying to say since last night when he learned of your plans.

He asked you to stay. He told you he needs you, that he wants to be with you.

They sounded like pleas and maybe that’s what they were. From the deepest and coldest nooks of his heart, he was pleading for you to not leave. He’d finally admitted what he’d been so scared to accept, but all his words did were hurt you.

You insisted that all he cared about was the convenience of being together everyday, that you staying meant he’d get to keep all that was familiar. And he doesn’t know what would be taken away from you if you did.

You wanted him, too, didn’t you? Wasn’t that enough? And wasn’t being with him all that mattered?

Sure, there’d be complications, but those are things he knows you’d both be able to face, they’re things you can navigate around and figure out together because this isn't just a one-time, spur-of-the-moment type of thing. He wants all of you, everything with you, whatever it takes.

He hadn’t realized it until that second he held you in his arms. And then again when you pulled away, looked at him with glassy eyes, and told him you couldn’t stay.

He’d been too hurt to run after you. He didn’t know what to say then. How would he, when you’re the one who couldn’t commit to what you felt by staying around? He felt that betrayal, of that feeling of inadequacy, of his feelings for you not being enough. He bared his emotions to you after being so scared of doing so, and then you crushed his heart just like that, with his broken pieces that you’d just put together, scattered on the floor.

This isn’t like him. It’s been a long time since he’s allowed himself to feel so much for another person, to care for them, to want them in a way that scares him. But you showed him a life where it was possible to open himself up again, to find out what happiness could feel like this time, and in that same breath, you took it all away.

He’s not sure where to go from here. But he decides he’ll think about that tomorrow. Tonight, he just wants to forget. Tonight, he just wants to wallow in his sadness, erase the memory of your touch and the feel of your mouth against his, and let it all go.

Jungkook instructs Mr. Ri to go home. He’ll drive himself, he insists. There’s just no one right now he wants to be around.

He drinks a glass of whiskey for the road and manages to get home in one piece. He settles on the couch as he finishes another half bottle, then chugs down a few cans of beer after. The image of you gets blurry. His mouth numbs and he starts forgetting your taste on his lips, too.

His head falls on the pillow and his hand mindlessly reaches out. There’s no heartbeat that he feels; he’s forgotten how fast yours was already. The sound of your laughter and then of your moans is replaced with a buzzing in his ear as his mind starts to fall away.

The warmth of your body is gone but somehow he feels hot, so hot but he can’t get his clothes off. He struggles a little, his fingers aren’t doing their job so he gives up instead, curls into the corner of the couch, and for the briefest moment, he sees your smile so clearly. And then his mind drifts away completely, taking his confusion and yearning for you along with it.

At least for now, there’s not much of you he remembers. But somewhere deep inside, he knows that’ll all change when he wakes up in the morning and searches for you, knowing you won’t be around to tell him that everything is gonna be okay.

Hoseok massages his temple as his sixth call to his cousin in the last half hour remains unanswered.

“He’s still not picking up,” he groans, the unusual feeling of annoyance bubbling inside him at Jungkook’s irresponsibility.

It’s Saturday morning and some friends of their family flew from Europe last night for lunch at the Jeons’ estate. This gathering was scheduled in time for their grandfather’s death anniversary today, and it’s an event that Mr. Jeon was adamant that Jungkook and Hoseok attend as their respective families’ representatives and as heirs of the company. Those friends had been there when their grandfather built Jeon Corporation from the ground up, and welcoming them is a sign of respect for that friendship and for the memory of the man they’re celebrating today.

Jungkook had informed Mr. Ri that he’ll be driving himself to the estate and promised to be there before 11 AM, as what his father had requested. It’s half past that and he’s still nowhere to be found. He hasn’t been picking up his phone and his friends claim they don’t know where he is. Knowing how important today is, Hoseok wanted to accompany Mr. Ri in going to the younger man’s apartment to pick him up and find out why he’s late. When the elder Jeon asks, which he will, Hoseok would at least have a reason to give. It just better be a good one.

They both arrive at the building and are informed that Jungkook’s cars are still in their respective slots. He’s not in any of the amenities and the guards report that they haven’t seen him since he arrived on his own last night. He may not be a fan of these types of events but Jungkook always shows up. He knows what today means for their family; if not for his father, then at least for his grandfather, a man he respected and looked up to. If, for some reason, he failed to wake up, then he must be in a bad condition, and Hoseok either has to scold his cousin, or cover for him.

With no one answering the door, Mr. Ri uses his access and enters. It’s dark and quiet inside, with the blinds all closed. When he and Hoseok find Jungkook passed out on the couch with an empty whiskey bottle and beer cans on the floor, it’s the same moment that Mr. Ri’s phone rings, and it’s your name that lights up the screen.

“Hi, Mr. Ri,” you groggily say. “I’m sorry I missed your calls. I had a late night and just woke up. Is everything okay?”

“I’m not sure,” he sighs, as he watches Hoseok pull Jungkook from his cowering form in an attempt to get him to wake up.

“What do you mean?” You ask, standing from your bed now, suddenly awake.

“I was calling to ask if you knew where Jungkook was. Their family gathering is today and he was supposed to be at his parents’ house 30 minutes ago but he wasn’t. He wasn’t picking up our calls either.”

“Oh, I… I don’t know where he is,” you say softly, the mention of his name reminding you of what transpired last night, the image of Jungkook’s dejected look appearing in your mind. You worry about him though, wondering what time he got home. “Have you found him? Is he okay?”

“Hoseok and I are at his apartment and he’s passed out drunk,” Mr. Ri states, as Jungkook finally opens his eyes and mumbles some words that the older man has to walk closer to hear. “What happened last night, ___? Why is he calling your name? And why is he asking for you to come back?”

It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that Jungkook had spent last night drinking his feelings away. You know enough from your time with him that it’s what he does when he’s stressed or mad or frustrated, and then he wakes up the next morning and hits the gym to deal with his hangover. There’s none of that today, apparently, and you stop yourself from instructing Mr. Ri to prepare him some lemon ginger tea.

“What happened last night, ___?” He repeats. “Did you fight?”

“We…” you start, knowing that if there’s anyone who has to know about last night, it’s the man on the other end of the phone. “We, uh… we kissed. And then he asked me not to resign then I pulled away.”

Walking towards the kitchen to hand Hoseok a glass of water, Mr. Ri asks if you’d told Jungkook of your plans, stating that he hadn’t told him about it.

“He overheard us talking last Thursday,” you respond. “He knew what I felt about him, kissed me, then asked me to stay. He said he didn’t want me to go, that he wanted to be with me, and that we could be together everyday. It didn’t feel right,” you continue, your voice shaking now as you recall the conversation. “It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. We were supposed to talk about it. He wasn’t supposed to use my feelings against me like that.”

“Did you tell him why you’re planning on leaving?”

“No… He just went on about needing me to be with him and I… I couldn’t bear it,” you say, feeling the tears dance around your eyes. “You told me that I could always leave but even then, I’d always have a reason to stay but it would be their reason, not mine. I finally built the courage to decide on this because you know I need this. I don’t want him to be my reason this time. Or else I’ll never be able to let all of it go.”

“I know,” Mr. Ri sighs, knowing more than anyone what you mean.

He’ll never be brave like you, but he understands that burden, that desire to just be free; he knows what it’s like to be held back even if it’s your own decision. Because at the end of the day, you’ll always think you have a debt to be paid. He knows he does, but he’ll always believe that you don’t. Surviving was always enough.

“But I think he has to know, ___,” he continues. “He wouldn’t let himself go through this kind of suffering if you don’t mean that much to him. You have to tell him the truth. And I mean everything. You owe it to yourself, too. I know he means a lot to you but you can’t move forward in any way, with or without him, if you’ll just keep him in the dark.”

You let Mr. Ri’s words settle. You told yourself the moment you entered the company that you won’t let your past define you, including your relationship with this family. You’ll work hard and everyone else will know you for that, and not for any other reason. You also knew that you’d spend every second of being here trying to prove to yourself that you’re capable, despite the irony that you were the one defining your time here based on your past that you just somehow couldn’t run away from.

You weren’t supposed to feel anything for Jungkook. You could’ve gone on with your plan of resigning without feeling bad that you were leaving him behind. And even in that alternative reality where he’d ask you to stay, it would’ve been easy to say no. What makes this difficult is that you started to care. You got scared that if he asked you, you would stay. And now that he did, you have to be stronger than your desire to be with him.

Leaving would be hard, but staying would be much harder.

You wish it was easy to make him understand. But you suppose without him knowing the truth, he wouldn’t be able to.

So you give Mr. Ri permission.

“I don’t know how to tell him,” you say. “You would. Make him understand. Maybe he’ll let me go. Maybe he’ll still come after me. And maybe he’ll forgive me, too.”

Mr. Ri hums and drops the call. He returns to the living room where Jungkook is now seated upright on the couch, downing his second glass of water and taking medicine to deal with the hangover. The blinds are now up, causing him to squint his eyes. At least he looks alive now.

“That was ___,” Mr. Ri says. “She was wondering how you were.”

“Did you tell her I look terrible?”Jungkook asks bitterly.

“I did. She also told me what happened.”

“What… happened?” Hoseok wonders. “Did you have a big fight?”

Knowing he has no way out of this, Jungkook tells the truth. “We, uh, we kissed,” he answers, earning him a gasp from his cousin, who clarifies that while he’s not that surprised, he’s curious as to why both of you aren’t together right now.

“___ plans on resigning. He asked her not to,” Mr. Ri answers. “But you… you have to let her go, Jungkook. She needs to learn who she is and what she can do without anything holding her back.”

“If that’s her reason, then she has to know that she can keep learning who she is and what she can do here, with me,” Jungkook insists, slowly gaining clarity, as all the words he couldn’t say last night suddenly come out so easily. “There’s so much she can do. If what we feel for each other is the issue and that means she can’t directly work for me, then there are other departments where she’d fit well in. This isn’t just about convenience for me. I want to see her everyday but having her around means I get to make sure she’s taken care of, that she’s treated well.”

“And then what? She’ll feel indebted to you because of that?” Mr. Ri counters. “This is more than just developing her skills or building her career, Jungkook. This is about being someone outside of this company. It’s about doing something without feeling like she constantly has to prove that she deserves what she has.”

“And she does. Who does she have to prove anything to? We’re beyond that. Everyone knows she’s capable.”

“She has to prove it to herself. It may be hard for you to understand but she… she won’t get to accept all that she is until she’s ridden herself of the burden she carries. For as long as she works for your family, she’ll always feel it.”

The words feel a little too personal, Jungkook thinks, as Mr. Ri talks about your insecurities as if he’d seen you live them, and perhaps he has. The older man witnessed those first few turbulent weeks, and having known you since you started working here through the CEO, perhaps Mr. Ri had seen how your spirit broke a little because of Jungkook.

But still, something about the way Mr. Ri looks sullenly at him says that there’s more to what the older man had seen, as if he himself is pleading for Jungkook to let you go this way, as if the care runs deep and the words carry so much more emotion.

“She needs this, Jungkook,” Mr. Ri continues. “She’s planned on leaving a few times before but her gratitude towards your family always pulled her back. If you really care about her, you won’t let that happen this time. If you want to be with her, you’ll have to do it without her being here. Regardless of what she feels for you, she needs this more. You can let her go without really letting her go, you have to know that.”

It all feels too much and Jungkook’s mind is filled with so many questions. What do you owe his family? How does proving yourself have anything to do with leaving the company? How does he fit into all this? What do you need time away for? And how can he be with you at the end of it? Would you still want that, given that he didn’t even ask you why?

“How are you sure that’s what she needs?” Jungkook asks, curiosity getting the best of him.

“I’ve known her for 20 years, Jungkook,” Mr. Ri sighs. “I know it’s what she believes.”

Jungkook may still be dealing with a hangover, but he knows his ears didn’t betray him. Twenty years, that’s how long you’ve known the man he trusts with his life, the man his father trusts with his family’s life.

The tale is an open secret. Ri Byung-hun was a kid who grew up in the streets. He tried to steal from Jungkook’s grandfather, whose construction business then was slowly taking off. The elder man took pity on the young teen and sent him to school, and Byung-hun showed his gratitude by working for the family, eventually becoming Jungkook’s father’s chauffeur, bodyguard, and closest confidant all in one. The loyalty goes both ways, and it’s stood the test of time.

Jungkook doesn’t know all the details but he knows enough. What he doesn’t know is who you are in Mr. Ri’s life, and why Jungkook hadn’t heard of you before.

“How do you know ___?” Jungkook finally manages to ask. “Who is she to you?”

“I know ___ because of her mother. And over 20 years ago, Cho Hye-soo was your father’s assistant.”

“She— what?”

Jungkook can’t hide his shock, and neither can Hoseok, who looks just as surprised about the truth as he is. His cousin would’ve been in his early teens at that time, and as it was when it came to their family’s children, training to become company heirs starts early, but they don’t get immersed until during their late teenage years.

“I… I know Mrs. Cho,” Hoseok says. “I’ve met her several times but I… I never knew. They never said anything.”

“It wasn’t something they wanted people to know,” Mr. Ri explains. “Other than both of your parents, I’m the only other person who does. Too much time has passed for people to make the connection. It was just better that no one knew.”

“What else did they not want people to know?” Jungkook asks. “What did ___ and her mom do? What… what do they owe our family?”

The elder man knew that at some point, Jungkook was going to have to learn the truth. He just didn’t think it would have to be under these conditions, and that he’d be the one telling the young man about how your lives are intertwined, that whatever pain you both carried growing up, those would always lead you back to each other.

“Your father and Hye-soo were no different to how you and ___ are,” Mr. Ri starts. “He’d just been appointed President and he was under a lot of pressure - from your grandfather, the Board, the rest of your family… He was always stressed and it didn’t help that he was a perfectionist, just like you. That obviously affected your family, but it also affected those who worked for him, especially Hye-soo, who felt that she had a lot to prove.”

She didn’t have a Seoul education but she was smart and resourceful, incredibly hardworking and devoted, something you inherited from her, the elder man shares. The similarities are striking, and Jungkook braces himself, hoping that they end there.

“She always had to work overtime, including weekends, and that took a lot of time away from being with ___. Hye-soo would leave her daughter in the library where her friend worked, and that seemed to be enough. But of course, it wasn’t easy, especially with a partner who lost his job and started drinking to cope.”

As Mr. Ri continues, Jungkook starts to fear something else, and so he asks.

“Did… did he hurt them?”

“He yelled a lot,” Mr. Ri answers. “I’d hear it sometimes during breaks when she’s on the phone with him and it crushed me every time. Hye-soo wouldn’t say much, just that he was a good guy who just didn’t know how to deal with hardships. She never justified his actions until of course, that piece of shit started hitting her.”

Jungkook’s heart breaks at the words, unable to imagine growing up in a household like that - feeling afraid, unsafe, and unfree.

“Hye-soo assured me that Kang-ho never hurt ___. She was good at that, at protecting her child. One time, she was called to work on a Saturday and that didn’t go well with him, but she… she always puts her daughter first, and that meant work would always be her priority because it’s what pays the bills and what sends her to school,” Mr. Ri narrates, his eyes growing more dejected by the second as he recalls those times.

“She was rushing and couldn’t properly conceal the bruise on her face. She was worried that’s why she took ___ with her. Hye-soo kept crying as your father asked her what happened. She apologized for being late and for bringing her daughter to work, and she asked to stay in the office for the night until she figured out where they could go. I had never seen her break down like that,” he says, his voice shaking now. “And I won’t forget how scared ___ looked. She was just 10 years old then, clinging to her mother and not wanting to let her go. We were all strangers to her but somehow, she knew that we were there to protect them.”

The silence goes on, as both men take in Mr. Ri’s words, but it’s Hoseok who asks what happened after, and eventually, what got you here.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jeon didn’t hesitate to help,” the older man shares. “They had Hye-soo and ___ stay at the staff house in their estate for a few nights until they got a new place to stay. I helped them get their stuff after Kang-ho figured out what was happening and ran. The police had a warrant for his arrest but they couldn’t find him for days.”

Turning to Jungkook, he adds, “your parents paid for all the legal and medical fees. Because Kang-ho knew they were helping, you all had to go away until he was found. Hye-soo and ___ went to Busan where he couldn’t trace them; your parents stayed in one of their houses in Gwangju while you and your brother were in Gwacheon.” Mr. Ri sighs at the memory as he recalls those days. “The reason why you were in that cabin was so they could protect you. I know you held a grudge against them for years because you thought they just left you there but they couldn’t stay with you, Jungkook. You were all in danger and they had to keep you and Jeong-sik safe.”

Jungkook looks back at that night when everything changed for him. Things already weren’t going well with his brother; the three-year gap and the way they were always compared kept them from getting along. His parents knew that, yet they still left him with Jeong-sik, who abandoned him in the woods when they played hide-and-seek. That’s where Jungkook was left alone, lost and scared under the rain, the thunder roaring as he yelled for someone to come. He’s always lived with that fear, always carried that memory of anger and blame within him that transformed into a habit of just pushing people away, of keeping them out because that was better to accept than the knowledge that people he trusted left him on his own.

But there’s a reason, he learns now, one that his parents kept from him to protect you and your mother, too. It’s all too much, but he thinks now that maybe there’s a reason why you were so patient with him, why you didn’t judge him that night at the guest house, why you somehow understood what he was so scared of. He doesn’t know if you know that the night at the cabin had anything to do with what you and your mother went through, but regardless, maybe that’s why he always felt so strongly about you. The connection he was yearning for was always there, it’s tied to something, and he realizes it’s tied to your shared past.

“Did the police find the man?” Jungkook asks now, his headache somehow worsening from all the things he’s learning. But he just wants to know that you weren’t even more hurt, that there was a way that his parents kept you safe.

“I did,” Mr. Ri responds. “I still had contact with people in the streets, and I left Gwacheon once I got a call that they knew where he was staying. I hunted him down and I handed him over… with a bloodied face and a few broken bones. They charged him for domestic violence and a few other crimes, including drug possession that would keep him in prison for years, long enough for Hye-soo and ___ to recover.”

“And what about you? Were you charged?” Jungkook wonders.

“No, I claimed self-defense and I—”

“But it wasn’t, was it?” Jungkook counters, knowing there’s more to what Mr. Ri is saying.

“It wasn’t,” the old man admits, turning away as he says the words. “I could’ve done more but I… I couldn’t lose myself to the anger even if it was all I felt. I knew Hye-soo wouldn’t have forgiven me if I did.”

“You loved her, didn’t you?” Jungkook says, dawning on him now that everything Mr. Ri had done was so he could protect your mother and you. He realizes that all the times that the elder man looked out for you was because he was looking out for someone he truly cared about, someone who mattered the most to the person who mattered the most to him.

“I did,” Mr. Ri sighs. “I still do.”

Jungkook recalls the night during the team building and the elder man’s words, about the woman he’d loved for so long, and that moving on from her meant expending all that love to those he cares about, and now Jungkook knows that he was referring to you.

“Did she know? And did she love you back?”

“She… she asked me to move to Busan with her and ___,” Mr. Ri answers, his eyes faraway as memories of that conversation come rushing back, how he’d wanted to just run away and build a life he never thought he could have with the woman he’d fallen so hard for, but how he had to make the hardest decision then, knowing it was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

“Why didn’t you?” Jungkook wonders.

“I owe everything I have to your family, Jungkook,” Mr. Ri explains. “They gave me a second chance. Your grandfather got me off the streets, your father taught me everything I know, they… they had my records cleaned. They did it when I was a kid and they did it again when I was an adult. The only way I could ever pay them back was through my loyalty. I couldn’t leave, not after everything they’ve done for me.”

“But you loved her. She was your second chance,” Jungkook argues.

“And that love caused me to commit a crime I shouldn’t have. I was going to pay for it one way or another,” Mr. Ri responds. “That’s how I chose to do it, by letting her go, knowing that I’d be able to look after her and ___ better that way. Your father would protect me, and I would protect them. That’s… that’s how things go.”

It’s a tragic love story, Jungkook thinks. Two people who feel so much having to let each other go, their own pasts pushing them towards opposite directions. Decisions were made and that pulled them apart. He supposes that reciprocated feelings aren’t always enough.

“What happened after that?” Hoseok asks now, wanting to know as well how you and your mother managed, and if there’s any more danger that you face.

“They stayed in Busan for a few years. They only returned to Daegu after they learned that Kang-ho died in prison after acquiring some respiratory disease,” Mr. Ri replies. “Mr. and Mrs. Jeon helped with the move, too. They had me check on Hye-soo and ___ almost every month, just to make sure they were doing well. It was hard, of course. Hye-soo wasn’t earning the same as she was so she took another job just to keep ___ in a good school. Mr. Jeon knew that, so he kept offering to pay for her education but Hye-soo always turned him down. That continued until she got to college, and knowing that her mom won’t accept help again, ___ was the one who decided to take the offer. They paid for her tuition, and she eventually got an internship in the company. She took the job offer, too, and she’s just been working hard ever since, thinking that she has everything to prove.”

“Why does my father think he can buy people’s loyalty just like that?” Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief. “It traps people… it gives them no option.”

“I know it may seem that way but your father knows how important loyalty is, and it’s something that he gives, too. He trusts me just as much I trust him,” Mr. Ri defends. “But when it comes to Hye-soo and ___, it isn’t about loyalty but guilt. He blames himself for what happened to them. Even if it was all Kang-ho’s fault, your father always believed that if he hadn’t been so demanding, things wouldn’t have escalated. It was all the overtime, all the unfair requests that took Hye-soo’s time from her partner, from her daughter. He carries that guilt with him and how he treated her. In a way, I think that was his wake-up call. Work stopped consuming him after. He became considerate of his staff, asking about their families and how they’re doing. He tried to make it up to you and your brother but that seemed to be the hardest thing for him; he didn’t know how to get your trust back.”

“But wasnt ___ choosing to work here about loyalty? She stayed every time he asked her to. She wouldn’t have if she felt indebted to our family,” Jungkook remarks, not wanting to delve into his own relationship with his father.

“She wanted to repay them just so her mom would stop carrying that burden,” Mr. Ri says. “They were able to get away and build a new life where they were safe because of your parents and for ___, that always meant everything. She planned to work for them, but even a part of her felt that all the opportunities she was given was out of kindness. She always felt she didn’t deserve it but your parents also think they can’t ever make it up to her and her mother enough.”

At the silence, he continues. “People are complicated that way, I guess. We all have our own burdens to carry, our own past to deal with, our own actions to make peace with and accept. We make decisions based on what we think is best and just hope we don’t regret them in the future. But we also make them as a way to take control of our own lives. Even if I regret letting Hye-soo go, I at least did it knowing that I’ll either have another chance at being with her, or that someone else will. And someone did, and I know for a fact that he loves her and ___ with all of him.”

“In that sense, maybe resigning is ___’s way of taking control of her life this time, don’t you think?” Hoseok turns to Jungkook, understanding where you’re coming from now, as he knows the feeling of not having to constantly prove yourself to others. “She finally wants to let that burden go, to live as she wishes without feeling like she doesn’t deserve what she has, even if it means not being next to you the way she wants to. If you make her stay, how do you think she can move on from all this? How can you be sure she’s happy?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, knowing it’s not enough to process everything he’s learned this morning. There’s that past he didn’t know he shared with you, there’s his relationship with his father that he doesn’t know how to mend, there’s his feelings for you, one that’s still so strong and inescapable.

And then there’s the thought that you’d known everything all along. You’ve been patient with him, you've been kind and understanding. Was that all because you felt like you had to? Because he’s the son of the people you feel that you owe a lot to?

It’s not that Jungkook doubts your feelings for him, but he wonders if you do. Now that you’re able to make that decision to leave, what if walking away from his family also means you realize that your feelings are tied to that indebtedness, too? How real was it for you? And after you find yourself outside of all this, would you still want him?

The thoughts make his heart break, and this tells him that after knowing everything, he still can’t deny what he feels about you. He still wants you just as much. Maybe the familiarity he always felt was because you are familiar. Maybe the connection was because of a painful past you both share, of a kind of pain you both understand. Maybe the intensity of feelings is a remnant from his childhood, one that’s tied to yours in a serendipitous way.

He’d like to think that even without knowing, you held out for him. You could’ve chosen to leave anytime before he came but you didn’t, and your paths crossed this way and he convinces himself that you were always meant to meet each other, that you were always meant to make up for how intertwined and unfortunate your lives are. You never met then but this time, when you did, it meant so much more. He could only hope that it’s something you hold onto as well, and that when you decide to finally walk away, it doesn’t mean you walk away from him completely, too.

“Kook, I know there’s a lot to think about but you have to get going,” Hoseok disrupts his thoughts. “Your father still wants us at that lunch. I know grandfather would, too.”

“You should go ahead, Hoseok,” Mr. Ri says. “Just make an excuse to your uncle and say I’m helping Jungkook fix up. We’ll head there right away.”

“No, tell him that I know,” Jungkook insists. “If… if he’s always wanted to mend our relationship, he and I have to start being honest with each other.”

“I will,” Hoseok says as he stands up to leave. “Get your head together, alright? You’re gonna be fine.”

Jungkook massages his temples, knowing that he doesn’t have time to get a workout in and rid himself of this terrible hangover. But he tries, as he takes a warm shower and asks Mr. Ri to prepare him a cup of lemon ginger tea and get some ginseng jelly for the ride.

The trip to his parents’ estate starts off quiet, but the thoughts in his head are so loud that the older man asks what else is bothering him.

“How was her time in Busan?” Jungkook asks.

“It was good. She was a shy kid but she found good people she trusted and that meant everything,” Mr. Ri answers. “I visited them often, even when they returned to Daegu. But I stopped once ___ moved back to Seoul after college. I’d ask her about her mother every now and then. It was nice to hear how well they’re doing, and how happy they are with their new family. Min-woo’s a good man and his daughters love Hye-soo and ___ so much. It turned out well for them. When I think about that, it’s really hard not to justify the decisions I made.”

“Will you make them again? If given the chance?”

“If I still think it’s what’s best then, then I would. Sometimes we make decisions because of the other person, not exactly for ourselves. Sometimes that’s how we realize just how much we love them, you know? When their happiness trumps our own.”

Jungkook merely hums. While he doesn’t think he’s at that point with you, he cares enough to want you to have that chance to find your happiness, in whatever form that may be. And if leaving the company is what it takes, then he knows you deserve that and more. It doesn’t change the fact that he wishes you can search for it while being with him, but perhaps it’s better if you find your way back to him instead. He’ll at least know you chose him, and not because you felt like you owed it to him to stay.

They make it to his parents’ estate over an hour late. The guests have arrived and Jungkook greets them before finding his father. When their eyes meet, there’s a look of sadness in the elder man’s eyes. Perhaps it’s understanding; maybe it’s an apology.

His mother gives him a long and tight hug, one that he savors for the first time in a long while. He remained distant from his parents after he decided to pursue further studies and then work in their office abroad. It’s a relationship he’s still navigating. While his mother has always been present and affectionate, Jungkook is the one who stopped reciprocating. It just seemed easier that way, but he realizes that he’s missed her warmth after taking it for granted all these years.

The lunch gathering lasts for a few hours. Jungkook tries to pay attention to the conversations since engaging requires too much from him, especially after the morning he’s had. But his father doesn’t reprimand him this time, and for that, he’s thankful. Hoseok keeps him on his toes though, but Jungkook’s mind constantly wanders towards you. He wonders how you got home last night, if you managed to get some rest, and if you’re spending your time being angry at him or if, by any chance, you’re missing him like he’s missing you.

It’s 5 PM by the time the last guest leaves, and with Hoseok and A-yeong needing to attend a dinner party, Jungkook is left to speak with his parents alone.

“I heard you know the truth now,” his father says as he sits across from Jungkook in the garden. “I’m sorry I kept it from you.”

“Did you intend for me not to know and find out from someone else?” Jungkook asks.

“___ applied to the company with the intention of contributing in a small way,” his father says. “She made it without any say from me and that’s a testament to her skills and capabilities. When we met after her first day, she asked that she not be treated any differently, and I agreed. I stayed true to my word and I kept my distance, but when I heard about how Mrs. Byun treated her, I knew I couldn’t just stand back. I encouraged her to apply for the EA position, knowing that she would be treated well. And with that, she asked me not to say who she is - not to Hoseok, and especially not to you. That’s not how she wants to be known. And I always respected her request.”

“Does it make any difference, son?” His mother asks. “Does knowing who she is to our family change the way you see her?”

“No, but it makes me wonder how she’d seen me all this time,” Jungkook says. “She put up with me despite how I treated her. She was kind even if I was distant. She… she let me open myself up and that’s… that’s why I like her. That's why I asked her to be with me.”

The surprise on his parents’ faces is immediate, but they stay calm, and it’s what prompts him to continue.

“I just hate to think that she suffered all that time because she still felt like she owed us. If you asked her to stay and help me, she wouldn’t have been able to turn you down. And what if… she’s confused her feelings for me for just… gratitude towards you?”

“Oh, my dear son,” his mother sighs, taking his hand as a form of comfort. “We are so sorry that all this has caused you to doubt her sincerity but if there’s one thing we know about ___ is that she’s genuine, and if you felt cared for by her, then she meant all that.”

“Yes, I did ask her to help you, because I knew that if there was someone who could get through to you, it would be her,” his father says this time.

“So you took advantage of her? Because you knew she’d do what you’d ask,” Jungkook huffs.

“I did that because I knew that she would care, that she would understand. Thinking about it now, perhaps I asked for too much,” the elder man shakes his head. “She’s a lot like her mother, and I’ve come to realize that you’re a lot like me. I needed someone like Hye-soo and somehow I just knew that you needed someone like ___. Both of you opening up and finding comfort in each other just happened, I suppose, and that’s not such a bad thing, is it?”

“I don’t know. Because now, she doubts what I feel and I’m not sure about what she feels, too,” Jungkook admits, letting his own insecurities get the better of him. He hates that he’s started to doubt you as well.

“If it matters, I’ve seen how she is with you. She cares about you, she worries about you. And the way you respond to her just means that your heart feels her sincerity, too,” his father responds. “Don’t let anger or fear taint that for you.”

“Aren’t you mad about what happened?” Jungkook wonders. “She’s my assistant and I ended up crossing a line. I kissed her. In my office.”

“Perhaps I should be,” his father hums. “But with her planning on resigning, I suppose you’re already feeling a lot of emotions about that. I don’t want to add anymore. You’re an adult and you know that your actions have consequences. You just have to deal with them now. And don’t ever do that again.”

There’s no anger in his father’s words. In fact, there’s comfort that Jungkook has never heard before. It suspends his worries only for a short moment, as he’s reminded that you indeed plan on leaving. When that is, he doesn’t know. But he’s gonna have to start dealing with your loss just as he needs to deal with his feelings for you. It’s all too complicated; getting together despite what you both feel isn’t that simple. Your happiness comes first. He knows he cares so much that it’s what he wants you to focus on.

“Letting her go now doesn’t mean you have to let her go for good,” his mother tells him. “She’ll choose you if that’s what her heart says. And at least then, you’ll know for sure that she still wants you after everything.”

Jungkook’s parents’ words echo in his mind for the rest of Saturday that he spends in his living room, choosing wine as his companion for the evening. There’s no intention of getting hammered unlike the night before though. The drink calms him down and allows him to have proper sleep this time. He spends the most of his Sunday in bed, thinking about you, then attempting to remove you from his mind.

Not wanting to deal with any more tension, he instructs Mr. Ri that Monday to just drive you straight to the office. Jungkook arrives and sees you stand up to greet him as he walks through the hallway, and he responds with a nod as his own greeting before heading straight to his room.

There’s that feeling again - of missing you, of hoping he could fix things but not knowing how, of wanting to ask you to stay but knowing he has to let you go, and of wishing that when he does, you’ll find your way back to him again. He shakes off the thoughts during that short walk to his desk, feeling himself weaken with every moment that he spends far away from you.

Jungkook takes his seat and sighs as another day starts without his usual routine. Knowing he has no other choice, he pushes on. From his periphery, he sees you glancing at him through the window, and a part of him wishes it’s your attempt at seeing if you could speak with him, maybe ask if you could talk about what happened later on or about what he now knows about you. Or anything, really. He just wants to hear your voice again. Hopefully see your smile. Despite all his doubts about you, the emptiness he feels tells him that nothing’s changed - what he feels for you is real, and he might not know what’ll happen next, but he at least knows that what he wants is to be with you; he hopes he’ll figure out how to do that with you.

He sees you glance at him again and it sparks a bit of hope. That is, until he spots the envelope on his desk, and inside it, your resignation letter.

He tries to act unaffected as he reads what you’ve written. It’s straight to the point, as you narrate your journey in the company, having started as an intern and then working in logistics before finding your footing as the Vice President’s assistant. You list the skills you’ve developed and other things you’ve learned but that you think it’s time to venture into something new and different, noting how you’ll take all your experiences with you in this new stage of your life.

You thank him for his guidance, and he almost breaks towards the end when you mention the Arts Center. You apologize for leaving before its completion, but you’re thankful because it allowed you to appreciate the beauty of things, that it made you understand the value of meaning and connection, and that his passion for it pushed you to find something that you want to be passionate about, too. You’ve given him something, and now he knows that in his own way, he’s given something to you, too.

You type away on your desktop while not-so-discreetly peeking into Jungkook’s office to see his reaction to your letter. Your plan was to resign after the Arts Center was launched, knowing how big of a project it is that needs all of Jungkook’s attention. He can’t be distracted, and a part of you scolds yourself for being selfish about deciding to do this now.

But you also knew that you couldn’t delay it any longer. After what happened last Friday, you didn’t know how you could face him again, especially now that he knows everything. It didn’t feel right to continue on, not just because of your feelings but because you crossed a line - you kissed and did all that in his office. That itself is unacceptable; it almost feels like a betrayal to his family, whom you’ll have to painfully say goodbye to as well.

Mr. Ri visited you yesterday to give you comfort, knowing that you’d choose to go through this on your own again. Jungkook was devastated but was worried about you more than anything, you were told, and somehow that made the decision less difficult but still painful to make. You don’t know if he’ll ever truly understand, especially if finding yourself means letting him go despite the happiness he gives you.

It’s not everyday you find someone you feel so much for, but then again, human beings are complicated - they can want something and be scared of it at the same time; they can have the chance to have it but doubt it all the same. What you feel for him should be enough to dispel your worries about his sincerity but there’s too much going on in your mind at this point. Right now, you just want to get away. With him learning the truth, you suppose he needs time to process all that as well.

You’ll miss him though. You’ll miss everything about this place. But you’ll miss him the most.

Your phone ringing disrupts your thoughts, and your heart races when you hear Jungkook’s voice on the other end.

“Ms. Cho, please come to my office.”

You calm your nerves and find the strength to get off your seat and walk towards him. He’d been expressionless the whole time, and you wonder if he’ll hold off your resignation because it’s terrible timing. Either way, you try to prepare yourself for what’s to come.

But clearly, you didn’t do so enough, as you’re still left speechless when he holds out an envelope for you to take, the sight of his hands that once held you close breaking your heart again.

“I accept your resignation,” he says, his voice low and firm, his eyes not fully meeting yours. “You have a month until your last day but you have two weeks worth of vacation and I urge you to take them before you leave.”

“Thank you, sir,” you manage to say, your voice soft and shaking compared to his. “I… I will.”

“And this is your recommendation letter,” he says, handing you another envelope. “You’ve shown exceptional skills throughout your tenure here, Ms. Cho. Everyone you’ve worked with says so, and I’ve seen that firsthand. I’m sure that wherever you decide to work after this, you’ll be another great asset. And my family wishes you good luck in your future endeavors. Thank you for all that you’ve done for us.”

The words are too formal, too professional for your liking, and this breaks your heart even more. But you suppose there’s no other way to do it. You’re the one leaving; you’re the one who pulled away. After everything that’s happened, you’re the one who walked out to find your happiness when Jungkook needed you the most, and you could only hope that one day, he’ll forgive you for it. That he’ll forgive you for all of it.

“Thank you, Mr. Jeon,” you bow in thanks. “I’ve said it all in my letter but once again, I appreciate everything you’ve taught me.”

You bravely look him in the eyes as he seems to have found the courage to look at you, and the longer you do, the harder it all becomes.

“Shall I commence the process of finding my replacement, sir?” You ask.

“There is no need,” he replies. “I’ve received approval from my father to have Lucas come in as my assistant effective immediately. He’s scheduled to arrive this week, so you can spend the remaining time you have here turning over everything to him. I will announce your resignation to the team before then. You can also begin the offboarding process with HR so that there are no delays.”

“Understood, Mr. Jeon,” you say, the light in your eyes dimming as each second passes by.

“Is there anything else I could do to help you, Ms. Cho?”

There’s a prolonged moment where you and Jungkook just look at each other, his eyes tinged with a kind of sadness that you perhaps mirror, with words swimming in your own heads that neither of you wants to say out loud.

You wish he’d say that he’s okay, that he forgives you, and that he hopes it didn’t have to be this way.

He wishes you’d say that you’re sorry for leaving him, that you’ll be thinking about him, and that you hope you’ll find your way back to him again.

You want to tell him that he’s all you could think about, that you’ll miss him everyday, that you’ll search for beautiful things that are tangible like you said you would, and hope they would lead you back to him.

He wants to say that he’ll look for you everywhere, that he’ll hold onto every good memory you have together, that he hopes you find whatever makes you happy, and that he’ll wait for you until you realize that it could be him.

But the moment passes and then it’s gone. You bow once more and head out the door.

You take your seat and will yourself not to cry. You can’t help it though, even as you press your palms against your ears to drown out the sounds of your own sadness, of your heart’s call of his name even if you’re the one walking away.

You let the tears fall, a reminder that you’d done this, and that for the first time in your life, you’re crying over losing someone, even if he was someone you didn’t have in the first place.

Maybe you weren’t meant to have him at all.

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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

Text

like real people do

in which spencer gets home from a case and fem!reader is feeling extra clingy

fluff (18+ for nudity) warnings/tags: reader referred to as a girl, non-sexual nudity/intimacy (again....??...), if you have daddy issues you'll prob like it, i should try therapy, technically suggestive, not even one whiff of plot, just cute shit a/n: wrote about a heatwave because winter makes me crave death. kisses!

It was hot in LA, and it’s a different, muggier kind of hot back at Spencer’s apartment when he gets home at four in the morning. The plan is to take a quick shower without waking you and then pass out for ten hours, but as soon as he opens the bedroom door, plans change.

Even the sheer sleep-deprivation he’s experiencing can’t hamper the smile that forms when he sees you face down on the bed, fan on the highest setting and pointed straight at you, and conspicuously lacking a shirt. He drops his bag and folded suit jacket to the floor, trudging to the bed before practically falling upon you, pressing a trail of kisses up your spine.

A little sleepy grumble from you notifies him that his plans of keeping you asleep have failed, but he can’t find it within himself to be too broken up about it.

“Spence!” you murmur, voice so quiet and scratchy with sleep but still drenched in pure adoration and joy.

“Hi, baby,” he says, lifting his weight off of you just enough for you to turn over before he collapses on top of you again. He slips his arms underneath you and around your waist just as you wrap your arms around him.

“You’re home.”

“I am,” he agrees, burying his face in your neck with a sigh. “And I missed you so much, pretty girl.”

He laughs when you kick the blanket away, attempting to wrap your legs around him like a koala bear.

“Did you kiss any movie stars while you were gone?”

“Not a one,” he assures you, pressing his lips to your jaw like an offering.

“Are you sure?”

“I am positively sure. Did you give up on clothing yourself while I was gone?”

“You don’t know how hot it was earlier when I was trying to fall asleep. There was no other option.”

He hums, his face still slotted under your jaw like pieces of a puzzle.

“You should go back to sleep. I’m just going to take a shower and then I’m coming to bed.”

Your hands weaves through his hair gently, which doesn’t make him feel any less like passing out where he is.

“Can I come?”

“To the shower?” He chuckles, rousing slightly. “You’re welcome to, but it’s not going to be very exciting. I’m exhausted.”

“That’s okay,” you assure him. “There will be no funny business whatsoever.”

“Okay. Come on, lovebug.”

He rolls off the bed, pulling you to your feet with just a little bit too much force. The momentum send you stumbling into him, but he catches you gratefully and captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Wait,” you order when he tries to pull away. “Not done yet.”

“Oh, you’re not?” He laughs against you between kisses, but slowly the humor fades and he loops his arms around your waist, gently rocking the two of you back and forth for a very long moment. “You are in rare form tonight, sweet girl,” he murmurs, finally pulling away from the kiss for good.

“I’m not all the way awake yet,” you admit. “What’s that called, again?”

“Hypnagogia.” He presses a kiss to your temple, loosening his hold on you. “I am also rapidly losing consciousness so we need to make this shower super quick, okay?”

“I know, I know! I said I would behave!”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he says dryly, tugging you toward the adjoining bathroom. You pout.

“Your lack of faith in me hurts."

Despite his hesitations, the shower remains PG-13. You cling to him pretty much the entire time like a flowering vine, but no untoward advances are made.

“Okay, you’re going to have to let go of me long enough so I can put some clothing on.”

Spencer says it lightheartedly, but you huff dramatically anyway, sitting on the edge of the bed as he roots through drawers in search of pajamas. When he produces a shirt for himself, your favorite of his, you object.

“Wait, I wanna wear that one.”

“Oh? I thought you don’t do shirts anymore,” he teases, tossing it to you before finding another for himself. You pull it over your head, getting up again to search for a pair of shorts as he gets dressed.

“Well, since you’re so concerned that I’m a sex-crazed harlot, I figure I’d better wear some clothes.”

“I never said that,” he reprimands gently, pulling you backward by your waist. “If you decided to forgo clothing completely, I would respect that decision.”

“You think you’re so funny.”

The two of you land on the bed, a tangle of limbs as he pulls you close as humanly possible.

“I think I’m delirious,” he admits. With a start you realize the room is lit with the very early beginnings of dawn—you don’t even want to know how long he’s been awake. Suddenly you feel very guilty.

“Oh—I’m really sorry for keeping you up, Spence.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m comfortable with my choices.” His hand finds the small of your back, rubbing small comforting circles over the bare skin. “Now, go to sleep.”

“Okay,” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut. “Love you.”

“I love you,” Spencer sighs dreamily. “So much.”

And the warmth you feel then has nothing to do with the heatwave.

#if you saw me post this earlier no you didn't #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 7 months

Text

Zoro is fuckboy material.

Sanji is boyfriend material.

Shanks is husband material.

Mihawk is BDSM Dom Daddy™ material.

Earlier I refused to elaborate.

Now, I will elaborate no further than the sources below the dotted line.

dottedlinethedottedlinethedottedlineth

Zoro

He'll pull you into a broom closet without any warning at all, turn you around, pull your panties down under your skirt, and have you right there when the mood strikes.

Then he'll catch your eye across the deck half an hour later and give you a little smirk that makes your cheeks flare bright red. You're not sure if you want to either kick him in the shin or go for another round right that moment, if not both.

He's not looking for anything serious because he's just not that good at getting close with anyone or being emotionally available in general.

There's a lot of time between port towns, and you're a good match for each other's physical needs and desires, but not much beyond that.

Sanji

Even if he is a relentless flirt, he's just such a complete sweetheart. It's difficult not to swoon at those subtle little touches at your waist and hips, at his seductive murmur in your ear.

He respects every last one of your boundaries; if you tell him something he's doing bothers you, he's going to back off from it. No protest, no questions asked. He's still going to make it clear that he thinks you're incredible, but he wants you to be comfortable and happy above all else.

He's still as sweet as candy even once he does win you over. Playful and flirty and constantly planning the most romantic dates. Picnics on the beach, preparing candlelit diners just for the two of you, laying out a pallet of blankets and pillows with a bottle of wine under the stars—doing everything possible to make you feel special.

It's difficult to tell where it will go, but he's sweet and doting and fun, and he puts every ounce of effort into treating you like literal royalty.

Shanks

You're his lover just as much as you are his best friend. He doesn't hold anything back from you, good or bad, trivial or important. He wouldn't ever consider keeping a secret from you because the thought simply wouldn't even cross his mind—whatever he knows, you know. If anyone else tells him something in confidence, they tell him knowing that he's going to tell you the second he sees you.

His gestures of romance are more subtle and revolved around camaraderie than worship. If you're cooking or cleaning, he wants to be there, both to help lessen the load and to just be there with you. If he sees you washing dishes, he's right there next to you with a towel to dry them and put them away. If you're cooking, he's helping clean up after you. If you're sweeping the floors, he's apt to just take the broom from you, kiss you on the cheek, and tell you to go take a load off and relax.

Absolutely nothing could ever stop him from being with you. There could be an entire armada of Marine warships between you and him, and he would still find his way to you.

Every hope or dream you have ever had in your life is also his now. Literally all of them. It doesn't matter how long ago it was or how unobtainable it seems—if you still want it, he wants to make sure you achieve it. Does't matter what it is. He's never going to tell you it's silly or impossible or unachievable—he's going to exhaust every effort to find a way to make sure you can achieve it.

Mihawk

Hopefully you didn’t have too many plans of your own, because if you've managed to catch his interest, he's going to make sure that you're his, and probably within the next twenty-four hours or less.

He isn’t completely unreasonable. You will have the option to refuse. But he isn’t going to beat around the bush, either. He's going to pull you against him by your hips, comb his fingers through your hair and grasp it to pull you in and ask you outright if you want to belong to him.

He won't pressure you if you say no. That's your choice. He'll just leave you with a deep, passionate kiss that makes your knees weak, a light brush of his thumb across your lips, and he'll let you go.

But if you say yes...then good luck. You're his now, and he's never letting you go.

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inkskinned · 1 year

Text

i'm used to it, and how bad it is, and how often it's so bad that it rings like a bell inside of me, drowning out everything around me. and the truth is that i get frustrated with myself about it - again? we're like this still? again? it's not that i feel weak, precisely. it's just this sense almost like - i've already been pushing against this thing for years now, shouldn't i have gained more ground?

i get frustrated because i'm sick of picking up the loose ends every six months. i get frustrated because it's always this same shit, same problem - i lose myself in a matter of months; spiral out of control, lose touch with friends and loved ones. i stop taking care of myself and therapy gets hard and i let everything around me wilt and shrivel and fall off; start somehow both sleeping too much and not-enough. i panic-attack and cry in my car in a target parking lot, pulling my hair out and hurting my ribs from sobbing so hard - and later, when i'm better, i'm embarrassed because how could i let it get that far?

it feels like - i already have done this so many times. isn't there a way out of it? isn't there a point where i've just... won? that it never happens again, that i just get to be done? maybe this is weakness, i guess - that i still (so often!) succumb.

i am used to it, so i forget exactly how hard it gets. do you even know how many times i've laid in bed, exhausted, blank and numb and listless and said - i can't anymore. i just can't. i'm not even really upset. it's okay. i've been here long enough. so much of my life was beautiful.... i'm just... done.

do you know how many times i woke up and i said - i can't and put my feet on the floor and said i can't, i don't want to and took a shower and walked the dog and bought myself fresh bread and put a nice playlist on and said i really can't, there's no end to this and i went to work and i called a friend and i made myself cookies even if food tasted like ashes and decided that i really should wait for the new album from that artist i love and i thought i can't, it's not worth it and then i washed my hands and cut my hair and drank more water and wrote a poem and signed up for an art class at the local community college and said i can't, i can't, i won't do this again, and i paid my rent and let the dishes rot in the sink but still made myself eat anything fresh even if it meant overdrawing my account on a stupid bag of plums just because they looked delicious and do you know how often i closed my eyes and thought this is it i really fucking can't, something has to give and i have nothing left that it can take and then i went to bed and i got up and i fucking survived anyway

yesterday the local ice cream place opened up for the first time this season and they were giving out tiny samples of their new dairy-free options and i tried a mango sorbet. three months ago i was positive that februrary was going to be my last month on the planet. i am teaching my dog a new trick and i just discovered a new band i love. i got a plant from the clearance aisle and repotted her and she's been perking up. i made salmon for alison and we ate it in her new house with her new beautiful baby girl. my manager told me he keeps recommending my work to others just because i always include a stupid number of puns. tomorrow i'm trying a new dance class. tomorrow i'm maybe going to buy more plums.

i forget, you know? it's not some bone-deep strength or some magical power. it's that some part of me knows - i need to stay. in all of this; out of all of this - i just want to choose love.

#writeblr #this is too honest and writing it made me cry #sorry #poetry

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writerpeach · 7 months

Text

Insatiable

IVE Yujin x m!reader

17k+ words

Part two of Overindulgent

---

Read on AFF

You shouldn’t have slept in so late.

The sun’s been up for hours now, but you’ve tried your best to ignore it piercing through the curtains. It doesn’t help that you’re all wrapped up in sheets that don’t even belong to you—sheets that still smell like last night, that smell just like Yujin. You don’t even know what time it is, and if you were to check your phone right now, you’d see at least a dozen snoozed alarms. It’s late enough that you know you’ve already missed your first class, and if you don’t leave the sheets, you’ll miss your second. But you can’t be bothered to move a muscle when you’re so comfortable, so warm, so enveloped in Yujin’s warm embrace.

Sleeping the entire day away sounds like a great option, but you can feel Yujin stirring awake as evident from the gentle kiss she plants on your cheek. You don't want to wake up. The only thing you want is to fall back asleep and ignore everything.

It’s not like you’d miss anything important, but Yujin remains persistent, with soft lips peppering your neck and shoulder with kisses that are much too tender for you to resist.

"Yujin, it’s too early," you mumble, voice hoarse and heavy with exhaustion.

“It’s almost noon. Did I wear daddy out too much?” Yujin asks, with sleep still caught in her voice, and you can hear the way she’s smiling without even looking at her beautiful face.

“Noon is still early. Let me sleep.”

Your request falls on deaf ears, because Yujin continues her assault of affection and you can feel her arms pulling you closer to her warm body. You try to suppress the groan that bubbles up in your throat when her lips find that one spot behind your ear, that one spot that has the best chance of waking you up and getting you going.

"What do I get in return?" she teases, and you can hear her cute giggles.

“Nothing,” you reply, without missing a beat.

"Not even a kiss?"

"No."

"That's not fair, daddy,” Yujin whines and squeezes you tighter, burying her head into your neck to inhale your scent before kissing your skin all over again. You want to protest again, but those lips are doing wonders against your body and she's doing everything she can to get you to wake up.

Yujin is relentless, but just like her younger roommate Wonyoung, always ends up getting what she wants, anyway. So you give in, grumpier than ever, and roll over to face her, putting down all your barriers. “One kiss.”

She doesn’t say anything else. Yujin just grins, leans forward to seal your lips with hers, then kisses your cheek, your forehead, and the tip of your nose.

“I said one—“

“That was one kiss. One kiss on each part of daddy’s cute face.”

You want to roll your eyes at her, but Yujin’s so goddamn adorable this early in the morning, like waking up to a puppy staring at you, that you can’t possibly stay annoyed for long.

“Fine. I‘ll get up.” It doesn't take much to convince you when it's her, so reluctantly you get out of bed with Yujin attached to your arm, rubbing your sore muscles with a gentle touch. You’re still in her bedroom, so it doesn’t take long for you to spot the pile of discarded clothes scattered across the floor, but you only bother to grab your shirt, since you’ve slept in your boxers, and pull it over your head, just enough to make yourself look presentable.

Yujin giggles behind you, and you give a still sleepy glance at her over your shoulder, watching the pretty smile on her face extend in a way that brings you out of your sleep-fueled daze. She kisses your neck one last time, then disappears inside her giant closet, re-emerging in a tank top and the shortest booty shorts you've ever seen on her. Yujin's never had much of a problem of showing herself off, which is a blessing because that sculpted body of hers is something else.

“Stop staring, daddy,” she playfully says, but you know she loves the attention, and she could have picked any other outfit than something that leaves so little to the imagination.

“You wanted me awake, now I’m awake.” You don’t even try to hide the way your eyes wander her body, how her top barely covers up her midriff, and how those black shorts ride up and hug the soft flesh of her cheeks so well. There’s nothing sexier than Yujin’s confidence, which fuels your gaze that continues to be shameless, mapping out the curves of her body, and you can’t look away for a second, not when Yujin puts herself on display like this.

“I’ll go make some coffee, daddy.”

Yujin spins on her heels and gives you an even better view of that plump backside that practically swallows up the tiny shorts that serve to highlight the fullness of her thighs. Her tight butt bounces with every step, and it’s downright mesmerizing as she makes her way downstairs towards the kitchen. You're following right behind, eyes glued to Yujin’s delicious body, to the way those wide hips sway—and it’s way too early to be drooling over her like this, but you can’t help it.

When you take a seat at the kitchen island, Yujin pulls out two coffee mugs out from the cabinet and starts the process of grinding the coffee beans. Before you met her, you survived off the cheap stuff from the cafeteria, because you don’t know the first thing about making coffee (it tasted horrendous but got the job done). Still, watching the way Yujin goes through the routine, it’s all very meticulous and fascinating at the same time, how effortlessly it all seems when she’s filled the room with the rich scent of fresh coffee. After only a few minutes, the entire process is done, and Yujin is expertly pouring brewed coffee into your mug from a French press, like she’s been doing this her whole life. It feels so domestic, and it’s a wonderful start to the day.

“Here you go, daddy." Yujin places the warm mug in front of you, then puts a couple sugar cubes in it to add just a little sweetness, stirring it with a smile. She knows your tastes perfectly by now, and even though you’re always teased for how you take your coffee, you’d drink it black if you had to, just because she’s the one to make it.

The first sip is like heaven, but you don’t expect anything less, and it has you closing your eyes, leaning back in your chair with a deep sigh of appreciation.

“Thank you,” you say, taking another sip of the rich beverage as Yujin settles herself right beside you. “It’s delicious.”

Yujin doesn’t even bother to sip from her own mug, instead basking in the steam’s aroma, and she’s more interested in watching you drink, watching the enjoyment in your eyes after every sip. You drink your coffee with the littlest of sips, both to savor the taste, and to not burn your tongue while you cradle your mug, waiting for it to become a more acceptable temperature.

"You know what would be even more delicious?" Yujin asks, nuzzling her face into your neck, and you’re almost scared to answer her, because you already know where this is going.

“No, I don’t,” you say with much hesitation. “What?” The last word rolls off your tongue with feigned ignorance, but you already know what Yujin is about to say as you take another sip.

“Breakfast. Do you want some breakfast, daddy?”

While it might be worded like one, you know it’s not an innocent question.

Waiting for her to drop the pretense, the grip on your mug tightens at Yujin’s words. Before you can bother responding, Yujin steals your mug and moves it away from the edge of the counter, hopping up to take its place on the island herself.

“I’ve got something daddy loves to eat,” Yujin purrs, with a smirk that tugs on the corners of her lips. Her thighs spread apart on the counter, those ridiculous long legs dangling off the island, and those shorts look so thin without any underwear underneath that you can clearly make out the outline of her cunt.

“I’ve barely started drinking my coffee,” you say with false annoyance, as you try not to salivate, yet all you can do is envision yourself in between those thick thighs, squeezing your head enough to deprive you of air.

“But don’t I taste better?” Yujin tries to entice you by rubbing her inner thighs, trying to lure you towards what she has planned. For now, you resist, remaining calm in your chair, sipping on your coffee and doing everything to deny Yujin’s seductive advances.

Ignoring her question is the only real option here, even while she’s tantalizing you with those legs spread so obscenely wide, it’s impossible not to stare. You’ll fold eventually, but you have to pretend that you have the upper hand. Yujin knows you too well by now, knows what works and what doesn’t, so she tries another approach, knowing you can’t stop staring at those alluring legs that activate all the right spots in your brain.

During your next sip, you feel Yujin’s feet caressing your crotch through your boxers, while her toes flex around your hardening shaft that causes you to nearly choke on your coffee. Yujin knows how to apply the right amount of friction to get your full attention, and the moment those gorgeous soles are teasing your growing cock, you’ve lost all interest in your coffee.

Yujin doesn’t say a word. She just playfully wiggles her toes around your length, squeezing it a little harder, adding just a little more friction. It takes a moment to compose yourself, gripping the edge of the chair tight and taking a deep breath, knowing you can’t do anything but succumb to her teasing feet that press into the bulge against your boxers.

She knows she has you now. Yujin knows she has you wrapped around her little finger, that you’ll worship every part of her, from head to toe, and then you’ll do it all over again.

If you’re not careful, Yujin’s going to make you explode, but that’s not exactly your choice to make.

“If daddy doesn’t wanna have me for breakfast, then I guess I’ll just have to keep playing with your cock like this. But I’m not gonna make you cum. Not gonna let you get even close, not until you taste me.”

It’s amazing how her words are both bratty and commanding at the same time. You know Yujin isn’t going to stop rubbing those pretty little toes all over your cock until you’re crumbling beneath her, because she’s only interested in what she wants—and what she wants is watching you squirm.

This is only the start. It's only going to get worse and worse, and you’re already trying so hard not to moan, trying hard not to stain your boxers. Resisting is all so pointless, so futile, because Yujin has this chapter written, and you’re just hoping it doesn’t end with a cliffhanger.

“You want more of this, don’t you? I know how much daddy wants me. Wanna feel my toes in your mouth so bad, don’t you? Or do you wanna rip these shorts off me and take me right here?”

It’s frustrating how good Yujin is at teasing you, how she always has the upper hand, and knows that in her presence, you’ll never say no to her. Your defenses break down bit by bit, and even through the thin material of your underwear, the pressure on your aching cock becomes too much to bear. You’re falling apart at the seams, and there’s no way to stop the thread from unraveling.

In the end, all that resistance was just an illusion, and you cave in, because of course you do. You’re dying to get your hands on Yujin, to taste every part of her, to rip those clothes off that she just put on. Yujin knows you better than you know yourself. And you don’t care how weak it makes you, because you’re hungry, you’re famished, not for breakfast, but for Yujin herself.

Ever so slowly, you lift one of those pretty feet from your crotch, bringing it to your mouth, and plant gentle kisses all over the soft sole of her foot, from her heel, to the middle of her high arch, then every one of her toes gets attention, from the big toe, all the way down to her small toe, and nothing gets left out. Yujin giggles with each kiss, while you give her what she wants, and she loves this part—she loves getting pampered by you, loves watching you worship her feet, especially when she has your undivided attention.

So as you pepper kisses along the length of her lengthy sole, Yujin keeps her other foot wrapped around your shaft, still massaging your needy cock through your boxers, and it’s obvious how much you needed this.

"You’re so hard," Yujin murmurs, her toes curling around your swelling tip, and bites her bottom lip in anticipation as you lick along her foot, your hungry, wet tongue, painting stripes along the bottom of her pretty sole. You trace her delicate foot from heel up to her toes, savoring the taste, and pressing your face against it before taking a deep inhale.

“God, Yujin,” you desperately groan, and you can smell her distinct scent even with your eyes closed. “Every part of you is just perfect.”

It's sweet, like vanilla, with a little hint of musk from sweat that you lick up, the salty flavor adding to your desire to worship Yujin. You continue your devotion to those priceless feet, switching from left to right, and running your tongue over Yujin's cute toes, tasting them one by one. It’s such an indulgent, shameless act, but she looks so relaxed while you lick all over her perfect, smooth soles, toes curling when you suck on them between your lips, coating them with your saliva, and god—you could just do this for hours.

“That feels fantastic, daddy,” Yujin says, and stops teasing you just long enough to press both feet against your face, letting you have your fill, as she enjoys watching you kiss, lick, and worship them. Her soles rub all over your mouth and chin, the tip of her toes indulging your eager tongue before her feet part to let you lick them both clean, and then you’re taking as many of those toes into your mouth as will fit, moaning as you suck on them, until you’re completely lost in savoring every inch of perfection.

It's a sight to behold, and Yujin is enjoying every second of it.

And then you’re in for one more round of vigorous worship, slobbering on Yujin’s soles, slurping on her toes, getting to taste as much of her pristine feet as you can, before her toes slip from between your lips with a loud, messy pop. You’ve hardly had enough, pressing both soles to either side of your face, which makes her smile at the lewd look of bliss that takes over, as you take another deep whiff, completely intoxicated by her utterly divine feet that deserve every bit of attention.

It’s out of the realm of possibility to think straight when you have Yujin up on a pedestal, with that body just waiting to be devoured, and it’s not enough now that you’ve been serving at the church of Yujin for the past several moments, transformed into a ravenous animal, left with an uncomfortable erection in your boxers that she needs to take responsibility for—

You’re going to do just that when you get out of your chair, pulling Yujin’s body towards you so her ass sits right on the edge of the island, and yank her shorts down, taking a moment to appreciate her pretty, bare cunt. There’s a bit of surprise on her face when you take the initiative, but you’re not letting a single second go to waste before you’re kissing her thighs with the same fervor, rubbing your face into the soft, supple flesh, licking them, biting them, listening to how she gasps when you’re tasting her sensitive skin.

Your cock continues to throb with anticipation, and you can’t hold yourself back, because there’s a fire that’s been lit inside you.

Yujin bites her lip hard, stifling a whimper as she looks down to watch you bury your head in between her legs. You continue licking along her inner thighs, working your way up, but never going where she wants you to most. It’s a slow process, turning the tables and teasing Yujin, savoring the taste of her thighs while her gorgeous pussy glistens, begging for attention, clit throbbing in need of your tongue.

“Daddy, no more teasing,” she pleads, but you’re not going to listen, even while her hands guide your head, you’re intent on kissing her thighs, leaving behind little love bites that have her squirming on the kitchen counter. Yujin lets out an adorable, frustrated little whine, but you pay her no attention as you run your tongue along the soft flesh of her thigh, dangerously close to her pussy.

“Yujin, you’ve gotten me this fucking hard, so you’re going to wait,” you say, looking up to watch the reaction on her face every time you plant your lips on her soft skin.

“No, daddy, I can’t. I’m so fucking wet,” Yujin says with a breathless, needy whine, and she parts her folds with two fingers to give you a better look. “Need you to taste me, need your mouth on my cunt. Right now, daddy.”

You’re trying to keep it all up, keep whatever semblance of control you have, but Yujin keeps touching herself in front of you, letting you see how wet she is, how ready she is to take your cock. After all you’ve done, you falter, because you can’t wait either, and you’re just as zealous to feast on her cunt.

It’s embarrassing how you’re falling back on your words, but who could blame you when you’ve been treated to such a delicious-looking meal inches in front of your face? So without a second thought, you dive in, tongue first, finally pressing your mouth against Yujin’s needy little cunt, and she lets out a gasp of relief when you’re tasting her slit.

Her pussy is already soaking wet for you, and it only takes one more lick before Yujin’s a whimpering mess, clutching on to the end of the counter as you work your tongue inside her, gathering up her sweet juices that spill out to keep your tongue satiated.

“Daddy, fuck, don’t stop. Don’t stop, need you to eat my pussy,” Yujin says, and she’s torn between begging for more, and taking it, but the way she’s threading her fingers through your hair lets you know which route she’s about to take. Either way, you’re not about to stop lapping at her pussy when she takes control, pulls your face in deeper, and she’s guiding your head between her spread legs, urging you to lick every last inch of her.

It only gets better when those immaculate, supple thighs shut around your head, trapping you in place. And it doesn’t even matter that you can’t even breathe, because you don’t need air, not when you have Yujin to breathe in, and she keeps you right where she wants you. Her thighs feel soft and warm, so utterly divine that when they press against the sides of your face while you devour her, you’re in absolute nirvana.

Yujin’s taste is nothing but intoxicating, so dangerously sweet that you can’t help but drink up every drop that spills from her perfect cunt, and you’re going to eat her out like she deserves, like your entire purpose in life is to make her feel good. You’re a mere mortal in comparison, and you’ll keep devouring her pussy until she cums on your face as many times as she pleases, because that’s the least you can do for a goddess like her.

"Yujin, you taste so fucking good," you groan, burying your tongue in her silky folds. She lets out a little yelp when you drag your tongue up her slit, and suck her clit into your mouth, flicking the tip of your tongue across it. Yujin keeps tugging at your hair, desperate to force your tongue deeper inside, and she doesn’t care if she chokes you with her thighs—and you’ll welcome it.

Your mouth is so fucking wet, but you’re still insatiable for more, because your tongue just can’t get enough of Yujin’s juices, a thirst that will never be quenched. Yujin dictates every little move you make, from how fast your tongue moves inside her, to how often she lets you come up for air, which matters little when all you can breathe is her heavenly arousal. She keeps her thighs locked around your head, a position you never want to escape from, wanting to stay trapped in that suffocating warmth as you keep your lips locked around her clit, and you’ll eat Yujin out for eternity if she lets you.

"Fuck,” Yujin says, letting a single syllable of her satisfaction slip out between moans. “You’re so good, so good at that daddy. Need you to keep eating me like this. Need you to make me cum.”

You’ll listen to anything she demands at this point, even as she’s whining and whimpering, while you explore every bit of her soaked folds, sucking hard on her clit, and you’re long past addicted to every drop that fills your lips. This is all familiar, you’ve done this enough times that you can do in your sleep, so you know how to get Yujin to the finish line and then some—but you also know that Yujin’s satisfaction never comes after just one orgasm. You’re going to keep your tongue buried between Yujin’s thighs, going to keep sucking on her clit, and even if your jaw gets sore, you won’t stop, not until she’s begging you to.

It may not get to that point, when the moment Yujin arches her back off the counter, her thighs start quivering with anticipation, and you know she can’t hold on much longer. Your mouth works overtime to draw out that much desired release, as the grip on your hair becomes so tight, so unrelenting, that you’ve done everything right when her fingernails dig into your scalp. Nothing’s going to stop her from climaxing, from making an absolute mess on your face, and you’re welcoming it all, licking her sweet pussy like your life depends on it.

“Daddy, I’m gonna—fuck!“ Yujin cries out, and then she’s convulsing on the counter, letting out the prettiest whines and moans as she cums, she cums hard on your face and her thighs begin violently shaking around your head, while you’re drinking up as much of it as you can.

With you slurping all the juices from her sensitive pussy, Yujin lets out the prettiest whines, gasping for air as she squirms on the kitchen counter, unable to remain still, unable to do anything but ride it all out. She keeps her thighs wrapped around your head, because she doesn’t want you to stop licking her soaking wet folds, and you wouldn't dream of denying her more bliss.

“Make me cum again, daddy. Make me cum again on your cute face,” she demands, and you’re happy to oblige her without hesitation. Not that you have much of a choice with your face pressed into her messy cunt, but you’re still eager to deliver more pleasure until her toes curl tighter, and her entire body shudders from the blissful waves of another orgasm crashing into her.

Now that you’ve gotten that sensitivity going, the second time Yujin cums it’s just as beautiful, even if it doesn’t last as long. You’re almost disappointed when the pressure around your head releases, because you’ve grown accustomed to inhaling the scent of Yujin’s pussy for what feels like forever. But when her thighs spread open for worship once more, and you lick them clean, she flashes you a look that you know means she’s not even close to being satisfied. It’s a look you know all too well.

“Daddy got to have his breakfast, so now it’s time for mine.”

Not even taking a moment to let her stamina refill, Yujin hops off the counter and palms your bulge. She makes short work of your underwear as it falls to your ankles, and your cock is already twitching for attention that she gives right away, stroking with slow, methodical pumps as she captures you in her sultry gaze.

The last of your patience runs thin, but Yujin's ran out long ago.

You’re dying to be balls deep inside her, and the feeling is mutual for her. There’s no more waiting to be dealt with as she grabs the hem of her tank top, yanking It over her head, and you follow in her footsteps until you’re both stripped of your clothes, standing bare ass naked in the middle of the kitchen.

There's only a moment to appreciate the parts of her body that you’ve yet to worship, how perfect those breasts look before her hands are already back on your cock, pumping with a tight enough grip to almost hurt. You take the chance to get your mouth on her tits, sucking on her taut nipples, swirling your tongue around while she pumps you, until Yujin releases your cock and leans back on the counter. Yujin is just so damn perfect, and you keep showing that by kissing her abs in just the right places, moving down to the curve of her hips, then back up her chest, peppering along her collarbone.

Yujin stops you when you get up to her neck and has this glint in her eye that can’t be ignored. “Fuck me, daddy. Right here, right now. Wanna feel your big cock in my little cunt, and then—“

The rest is a mystery as Yujin breaks eye contact long enough to spin around, bending over the counter to present you with an irresistible view of her tight ass. You can see the wetness glistening along her folds at this angle, and it’s impossible to hide how desperate you are to bury your aching cock in her cunt. It doesn’t help the way Yujin shakes her ass at you, tempting you with those full cheeks that would have you on your knees if not for how badly she needs to be fucked.

“Daddy,” Yujin growls, sounding more like a warning as she flashes a look over her shoulder that’s a silent message for you to get inside her, right now.

Almost as soon as you line up behind Yujin's body, she grabs the base of your shaft, guiding it between her legs, and takes away any chance to savor that initial penetration when she presses it against her slick opening.

It's overwhelming the way your cockhead slips between that silky flesh, parting those pretty wet folds and Yujin at least lets you do the rest, sinking inch after inch, until there’s no part of you left to bury inside her.

Yujin’s incredibly tight, but always feels so warm and welcoming, and there’s no need to take things slow, not when she’s all out of patience, pushing her ass back to meet you. It’s a signal heard loud and clear. When you grab her wide hips, your shaft plunges inside that familiar heat, and the grip her velvety walls offer is so fucking good it makes your mind go numb as you start to move faster inside her.

“Fuck, there you go, daddy. Pound me, pound my little cunt, make me feel full,” Yujin says, like that wasn’t always the plan from the start. There’s no way your thrusts are anything but deep and unforgiving, bottoming her out in no time, and she takes you so well, so effortlessly, that you’re the one having trouble adjusting instead of her.

“Yujin,” you start to say, but the way her pussy stretches around your cock, allowing you free rein to give her a proper dickdown leaves your mind blank. There’s nothing of importance to say other than how perfect she feels, or how good you want to make her feel, so you’ll just shut up and keep pounding her tight cunt.

You’re already hitting so deep, your cockhead kissing her insides, and it has you falling into a quick, powerful tempo that leaves Yujin clutching the edges of the counter for support. It’s a view that’s only made better when Yujin looks back, letting you see the deep lust in her eyes, the kind that’ll keep your hips moving until they give out. It’s everything you love about this position, letting you appreciate the best parts of Yujin’s body, particularly the way that thick ass jiggles when your hips meet, when she pushes back against you and matches your own pace.

Despite the fact that you’re, in theory, the one in control, Yujin is guiding the reins, demanding you fuck her harder, digging her nails into your thigh when your cock doesn’t move as fast as she likes, when it doesn’t rearrange her guts hard enough. There’s no doubt she’s calling the shots, there never was, and the little glances she gives over her shoulder serve as a stark reminder to pound her pussy without her telling you to.

You match Yujin’s groans with every thrust you make, burying your cock so deep inside her warmth, and holding such a tight grip on those flawless hips she’ll bruise no doubt, but she doesn’t even care—Yujin just wants you to keep this pace up, keep pulling her back whenever you ram inside her. She can take your cock so well, even as your pace grows erratic by her orders, but you never let up, because she needs your cock like air, needs to be stretched like her perfect little cunt deserves.

And you’re going to listen to whatever Yujin says, even as your hips start to burn from drilling her cunt so hard, putting every amount of force into your thrusts until she’ll feel it in the next morning. You're already so fucking close with how much she clenches around your cock, but you have to last until she's satisfied, until she’s screaming your name.

But that won’t be long, because Yujin is so fucking wet, and you can see the puddle between her legs that only grows, only serves as more evidence of how good a pounding she’s getting. It’s as loud as it is messy, but it leaves Yujin with a craving for more, leaving her frantically rubbing her clit, and the clench around your cock gets so fucking tight you almost explode.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, make me cum, daddy, make me cum on your thick fucking cock. Fuck, then you can cum and then I can taste—“

“Oh, good morning.” Wonyoung nonchalantly walks past the action happening, like you’re not in the middle of plowing her older roommate, and opens up the fridge. To be fair, you’ve become so accustomed to her interrupting the two of you, it does little to distract you at this point.

“Don’t mind me, just grabbing something to eat before class,” Wonyoung says, grabbing some yogurt and fresh berries from the fridge shelf, then uses her hip to close it shut. She takes a seat on the other side of the counter so casually, watching you pound Yujin, while taking her time to peel back the foil lid, then starts to slowly dip her spoon into the yogurt, mixing in the berries at the same time.

Her eyes are fixated on the action, but she’s eating a healthy breakfast with such a vacant expression on her face, like this isn't the slightest bit strange. Wonyoung chews slowly, taking occasional glances in your direction while you’re ramming your cock into Yujin who doesn’t seem bothered in the least, not even when you start spanking her ass, just to make those plentiful cheeks jiggle, so she can moan louder and tighten up around your shaft.

“We’re out of blueberries,” Wonyoung says, as her lips pout, like you’re not railing her best friend in front of her, slapping Yujin’s ass hard, that it’s enough to make her squeal when the flesh ripples—and she does it again so fucking loud when you give her another rough spank, one deafening strike after the other that has your full concentration on the hypnotizing waves her ass cheeks make.

You’re absolutely destroying Yujin’s cunt, finding new angles to piston into her that have her letting out guttural cries of pleasure, and her tender asscheeks have the most beautiful hand prints on them, a pleasant shade of red that keeps deepening. Yujin gets impossibly tight whenever you spank her, making the most pathetic little whimpers while you deliver those stinging slaps to her ass, but Wonyoung makes little if any acknowledgment, uninterested in anything but her yogurt, eating it in relative silence.

It’s impressive how Wonyoung can maintain such a straight face, despite how loud you’re making Yujin scream, filling that cunt so perfectly, and it gets where you’ll try anything to get her attention—so you go harder on Yujin, ramming your shaft into that tight pussy so rough, that she can barely hang on to the kitchen counter. You’re doing whatever possible to elicit a reaction out of the younger girl, fucking the air right out of Yujin, that it becomes a challenge not to burst when your hips keep slapping against her reddened ass, because her pussy feels so fucking unreal—

Wonyoung has all but turned to stone, and while her eyes might dart from you to Yujin, it's impossible to tell if she's judging, aroused, or just enjoying the show. That stoic expression hasn’t changed one bit.

“Daddy, need you to give it to me, ruin my fucking pussy. Your cock feels so fucking good inside me, but you’re not pounding me hard enough,” Yujin says, which you find impossible to believe, but then again, you’re pretty sure that she’s getting off on her younger best friend watching her get dicked down.

So as Wonyoung just keeps eating her yogurt through it all, licking her spoon clean after every bite, paying no mind to how raw and vulgar the sounds of flesh smacking against flesh get, as you put every little ounce of strength you have left. Yujin is bent over so obscenely, taking all your cock without issue, and pushes back to meet each and every thrust that gets buried deep inside her.

There’s so much sweat dripping down your bodies, and you’ve given up on trying to break that poker face on Wonyoung, leaving you with nothing left to distract you. Yujin can take so much without any trouble, as if she’s showing off how much her pussy enjoys being pummeled, and all she does is beg for more. You keep the hand that isn’t on her hips moving, and the more it meets the deadly curve of that round ass, the better it gets watching the recoil on those sweaty cheeks.

Yujin's on the verge of release, and you’re not far behind, both chasing an earth-shattering orgasm that’ll have you both reeling, but as dangerously close as you are, Yujin's even closer, clenching hard on your cock, so fucking tight that you'll burst any second now.

You’re moving on auto-pilot, and when Yujin turns her head back to meet you halfway with her lips, your mouth crashes against her own, then you’re planting hungry kisses down her neck. There’s not a part on Yujin’s body that doesn’t taste good, and you kiss as many places as you have access to, from those beautiful shoulders, to that bare back covered in sweat, doing everything you can to prevent the inevitable.

All it takes is one solitary thrust that hits just right until Yujin’s legs begin to tremble, and when you do it again, she almost collapses on the spot. One more time, and she’s cumming on your cock without any warning, gushing on the kitchen floor, and it takes everything you’ve got to keep yourself buried. She’s squealing, gasping as you fuck her through the violent orgasm that rips through her body, and the only thing you can think about is how fucking desperate you are for relief while you hold her hips, helping her ride through the intensity of her high that shows no signs of yielding.

The kitchen (and Yujin) is going to be such a mess after this.

Yujin keeps convulsing on your cock, taking you closer to that edge, while you drill her as fast and hard as your hips will allow, driving her to a second greedy climax that you’re a fraction of a second from blowing your load inside her. Yujin’s so fucking wet, so unbearably tight that you’ll have to make a conscious effort to hold on, because you can't last much longer, not with how euphoric it feels to be buried in her cunt.

“D-daddy, daddy, are you close?” Yujin asks, out of breath, and it’s the easiest question in the world to answer. All you can do is nod at this point during the next lust-filled kiss, and it takes all of your remaining strength to pull out from her heat at the right time.

Yujin drops to her knees to finish you off, tasting herself on your needy cock, and it won’t take long at all until you’re filling up that pretty mouth.

While this is all happening, Wonyoung licks her spoon clean one last time, still sitting on the opposite end of the island, and gets up out of her chair without a passing glance, tossing her empty yogurt cup away. She leaves without any parting words, without the slightest bit of recognition that Yujin now has your cock jammed down her throat as she grabs your hips, bobbing her head at an impossible to deal with pace.

You’re on board a rocket that’s already been lit, about to explode at any moment, because the back of Yujin’s wet throat feels like heaven, and the way she looks up, waiting for you to cum is more maddening than you know how to handle. Her nails dig deeper into your hips, and you’re spiraling out of control while those sexy lips of hers stay perfectly sealed around your cock, tongue tracing the underside of your cock. Yujin isn’t going to stop until she has you cumming down her throat.

That gorgeous face is so eager, so happy to swallow all the cum out of your cock, and her eyes show how badly she wants it as her hands leave your hips, finding your wrists before she guides them up the back of her head.

“Yujin—fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, you’re gonna make me fucking cum,” you groan out, and you’ve never seen those sparkling eyes widen so much. You know Yujin can’t wait, nor can you, not with how sloppy her mouth is, how deep she’s taking you into her mouth, and she’s sucking you off so well you can hardly think straight, every messy slurp making your head spin.

Yujin doesn’t even gag when you instinctively start fucking her mouth, getting a strong grip on her head, and you’re not even sure how she can even breathe with your cock crammed so far down her throat—not that she cares, because she just keeps staring up at you, keeps showing you how much she wants you to cum in her mouth, like she needs it to survive.

It’s fucking filthy, wet, and you can’t even settle into a rhythm before your cock throbs, your lips groaning Yujin’s name in a chant as the only warning she’ll get before you press her face down into her crotch, holding her there until your hot seed shoots down her throat.

Your legs threaten to give out when you unload down Yujin’s waiting throat, but she takes everything you have to offer. It’s not the least bit difficult for her to swallow it all, smiling with her eyes as you’re pumping all the thick, gooey cum into her stomach, and she makes sure none of it goes to waste, throat milking it all out.

Yujin fucking loves the taste, the thickness that fills her mouth, the texture that she can’t get enough of, swallowing every last drop like it’s the best damn breakfast she’s ever had. And when there’s nothing left in your balls to empty, Yujin keeps her mouth on your shaft, keeps that powerful suction going, even when you can’t take anymore.

“Yujin, please,” you can barely get out, and you’re not proud of begging, but fighting against the aftershocks and overstimulation is an uphill battle that makes you nearly pass out against the kitchen counter. But fortune favors you, since there’s pity written on Yujin’s features, so she lets you slip out of her mouth, licking your sensitive cockhead clean before doing the same to her lips.

“Thanks for the delicious protein, daddy. It really makes the best breakfast.”

With whatever strength left, you hold on for dear life against the kitchen island, and Yujin just stares at you in your post-orgasm daze, licking her lips like she’s ready to go again. Because you know she is.

“Daddy—“ It’s just one word, but she says it with affection in her voice as she saunters over to you and caresses your cheek. Both of you are covered in sweat, but you really took the brunt of it, given that you’re still gasping for air, still recovering from such a mind-blowing, toe-curling orgasm Yujin just helped you reach. “I think we should skip the rest of our classes today. Don’t you?”

She has a point. You’ll only have a couple of classes left in your day even if you went, and you’re not particularly compelled to spend hours listening to some old guy drone on about histories of countries you’ll probably never even visit in your lifetime. You also know with your schedule clear that Yujin’s liable to jump your bones the entire day, and you’re already exhausted as is.

But really—when has Yujin wearing you out ever been a bad thing?

✦ ✦

To nobody’s surprise, Yujin is insatiable.

On the kitchen floor still lies a heap of clothes, but there’s no point in putting them back on, since they won’t be staying on. Now that your schedule’s been freed, Yujin has the rest of the day planned out—and it involves you, her, and whatever surface that’ll hold her weight.

Wonyoung’s classes won’t be over for several hours, so there won’t be any more interruptions, which gives the perfect opportunity to jump in the shower and share the hot water together. In reality, it’s the only reprieve you’re getting, and that’ll only last until the water warms up—getting clean is only an afterthought.

Once the water starts streaming down your bodies, it relaxes all your tired muscles, and Yujin helps soap up your body, which is really just an excuse to get her hands on you again. And her hands feel amazing when they massage all the sore spots on your body underneath the running water (which is always as hot as possible when Yujin’s involved).

You’ve never felt so relaxed, so calm when Yujin helps shampoo your hair, working her fingers deep in your scalp. Something in your gut tells you that feeling is only going to last until it all gets washed out, even as Yujin smiles innocently when she helps rinse out your hair.

When the last of the shampoo falls down into the drain, it takes all the purity of the shower with it.

Yujin begins soaping up your body, running her hands along every part of your chest and stomach, and it doesn’t take long before she gets a little too handsy. Little by little, her hands travel down your hips, and you know where they’re going to detour, that there was zero chance you’d actually use the shower for its designated purpose.

It doesn’t matter though, when Yujin looks so ethereal surrounded by running water, with her wet hair stuck to her face, accompanied by the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen. You’re definitely staring, which no one could blame you for when the only thing better than Yujin’s naked body—is Yujin’s naked body all wet and soapy.

Distraction comes easily when you’re busy getting lost in all the curves of that immaculate figure, and you’re only interrupted when Yujin uses your hips to spin you around, facing you away from her as the hot water starts to pelt your chest. The only thing more soothing than the running water is the way her arms wrap around your waist, how the weight of her perky breasts press into your back. Yujin’s soft lips latch onto your neck, peppering it with kisses, and her hands inch lower down your torso, with no mistaking where they’re heading.

“Daddy,” Yujin whispers, wrapping those eager fingers around your length, and it only takes a few pumps before she brings your erection back to life. “Gonna keep milking you, gonna keep draining those heavy loads out of your balls over and over until they’re sore, until you can barely walk.”

You have little of a response to offer, only groans that tell Yujin all she needs to hear when the grip on your shaft tightens. The hot breath on your neck only serves to leave you more speechless, and the way she’s jerking you off nice and slow only makes it worse, especially with how you’re still sensitive, but you’re not about to admit that—she’ll know regardless.

Yujin’s words hold so much weight to them, because you know how relentless she can be, how easy it is to gain control over your body. You know her words are a promise, a guarantee that she’ll do whatever she likes, and she lets out a little giggle when your shaft twitches in her hand. “You’re gonna cum all day for me, right? As many times as I want. All over me, all inside me, everywhere. Your cum belongs to me, daddy.”

It gets harder to speak the more Yujin reveals her intentions, the more those fingers squeeze the tip of your cock just right, making you let out a desperate moan. She keeps nibbling on your neck, pumping your length at an agonizing pace, just so your shaft doesn't get the kind of attention you need, just enough to keep you hard for her.

“Just thinking about all the ways I can make daddy cum makes me so fucking wet. You’re gonna breed me so many times today, gonna pump all your loads inside me.“

When Yujin finishes her sentence, she licks over your earlobe, blowing hot air into it as the path her fingers take speeds up, gets just a little tighter. It’s the littlest bit of pleasure, but it draws out your moans, and without even noticing, your hips are bucking on their own, fucking her fist to bring yourself to another release.

“You need to cum again, don’t you?” Yujin asks, but her question comes with more intense jerks of her hand, giving you the pace you desperately need, which makes you twitch between her fingers harder than before. “Then you have to let me do it, daddy.”

Yujin stalls your hips, holding them in place long enough so you’ll get the message. All you want to do is move, thrust your shaft in between Yujin’s delicate little hand, but it’s clear she’s not going to allow that, so you hold back anything that voices your frustration. She nips at your ear, and her soapy hand slides along your shaft with ease, twisting the right way, and given the attention you’ve been craving,

It's embarrassing how close you already are, especially after such a rough, sweaty session on the kitchen counter. “Daddy likes when I take my time, don’t you? When I get you all worked up, because it’ll feel better when I make you cum…”

You’re not going to admit anything, regardless if she’s right or not. Which she is, but you’re fucking greedy right now, and all you want is to fuck Yujin against the shower glass, until you fuck another load inside her. You can’t even see her face right now, but you know what smug expression is on her face when she strokes your cock just the way you like it, bringing you closer and closer, and you can feel the hardness of her nipples as her wet tits stay squished against your back.

Maybe it’s for the best that you can’t see her, since you know she'd have that familiar shit-eating grin plastered on her face, knowing how fucking close you are to unloading in her hands, because nobody but her can get you off quite like she can.

“Yujin, please,” you moan, a regrettable use of words, because you don’t need her knowing just how desperate you are to cum, but it’s too late when she chuckles into your ear.

She’s maniacal in her ways, releasing the grip on your cock, just to laugh as it throbs in the air—then she’s teasing that sweet spot with the pad of her finger, applying the least amount of pressure when she traces your shaft from base to tip, prolonging every bit of pleasure you’ll beg for.

You’re a fucking wreck already, and Yujin just keeps building and building your orgasm, making you chase it. It only becomes more of a challenge not to move your hips when she gives ample amounts of pleasure, just to steal it away at the last possible second, until you’re letting out more whimpers of desperation.

There’s no comfort in being under the hot water anymore while Yujin keeps you riding that edge, keeps you right where she wants you. “Please, please,Yujin—“

Your pleas go unanswered while her free hand rakes against your wet abdomen, giving an extra dose of stimulation that only makes it all worse, and she never maintains the same speed of those tormenting strokes for long. Yujin knows how to torture your cock better than you give her credit for.

“Maybe I should make daddy wait until we’re out of the shower?” You’d rather perish at such a suggestion.

You’re at her whims, powerless, vulnerable as could be, when she uses her thumb to rub lazy circles around your cockhead, and embarrassingly helpless, waiting for the moment when she has mercy on you, when she’ll let you blow a load like you never have before.

What makes matters worse is Yujin knowing how close you are to the edge, that if she squeezes your cockhead just right, you’ll shoot an absolute mess between her fingers and all over the tiles. You could be selfish, take matters into your own hands—quite literally. It’s not like Yujin hasn’t given you permission to cum, and she doesn’t punish you for anything—but there’s no satisfaction in taking the easy way out.

So you’re left with the only other option—keeping your composure. A task made nearly impossible when Yujin keeps changing the pressure, only allowing as many strokes as it takes to reach that dangling edge once more. All you can do is wait for it to all build back up again, then hang on tight, which isn’t easy when Yujin keeps teasing the other parts of your body: playing with your nipples, giving your balls a gentle squeeze, doing everything but letting you reach the nirvana you’d give anything to reach.

“Yujin—“ You don’t even care how needy you sound, or how frail your voice comes out as, you’re not above getting on your hands and knees to beg at this point. Even when it seems like you've been edged for days, Yujin knows how well you can endure it.

“Don’t you worry, daddy. I said I was gonna milk your cock, so that’s what I’m gonna do,” Yujin purrs, as fingers rub the sensitive tip of your cock. It's too much pressure, and it takes everything to hold back from spilling, even when you're so fucking close. Yujin squeezes your heavy balls once more, then again, like she’s gauging how much you’ll blow when you’re finally permitted to finish, and you’re a hair's breadth from releasing it all.

There’s a wet kiss planted on the back of your neck as Yujin applies a firm grip at the base of your shaft, and those magical fingers move at a pace that you’ve been dying for as they twist around your cock. Yujin rubs her thumb around your sensitive slit, and begins to pump with such ferocity that your breathing gets heavy and weak, fueling the anticipation more and more, until you’re almost there—

You just pray that Yujin lets you finish this time.

She gives every bit of stimulation you can take, cycling through sucking on your neck, blowing puffs of hot air into your ear, and whispering the absolute dirtiest things she can imagine, words that could make you cum on their own. And the knot in your stomach just keeps snowballing.

“Give me your cum, daddy. Give me that big fucking load, I need it, I need to milk it right out of you,” Yujin commands, with a death grip on your shaft, jerking you off so fast as that pressure just keeps boiling until you’re at a breaking point. Everything blurs together, and it’s impossible to do anything but let the inevitable happen, because regardless if Yujin lets you or not—you’re going to fucking cum.

One light stroke is all it takes to reach the point of no return, and Yujin wraps her free arm around your waist in order to keep you upright while your climax hits like a truck. Your load shoots out like a geyser, coating Yujin’s fingers as you spray it all over the tiles, moaning uncontrollably. As you let out all that bottled up bliss, your whole body spasms out of control, but Yujin keeps you steady, keeps pumping all of your seed out, the sheer force of it making her giggle.

It doesn’t feel like the spurts ever get weaker, even as Yujin keeps squeezing the tip of your cock, prolonging your euphoric high for as long as she can. The relief only gets better with every heavy pulse of your shaft, and it feels like it’s never going to end—you just cum, and cum, and cum, while Yujin whispers words of praise into your ears, milking that massive load out of you as promised. Every little drop gets ejected from your pulsating shaft, until your balls are depleted, absolutely drained, and there’s nothing left to spill.

By the time it all subsides, every muscle in your body still trembles, and even after you’ve been milked dry, your cock still throbs for Yujin. The aftershocks fire off like the Fourth of July, and it’s a losing battle trying not to collapse, but Yujin ensures you remain on your feet.

Yujin turns you around to face her, and there’s a dangerous grin on her face—something you should be worried about, because only she knows what else you’re in store for. Without even noticing, the water gets turned off, and Yujin helps you out of the shower, draping a towel over your shoulder to aid in your recovery. Little by little, you regain your senses until you feel like a functional human again.

There’s not a mirror left that hasn’t been completely fogged over, but the cool air feels so refreshing on your hot skin after being in there for ages. Yujin can’t stop smiling as she takes care of you, drying off your body and ruffling your hair, because she knows you’re going to feel that high for days.

Once you're all toweled off, squeaky clean, and refreshed, it all comes full circle when Yujin drags you back to her bedroom, one of the biggest places in the apartment. Her bed is spacious enough to accommodate a small army, but it’s just you, her, and that killer smile, with all the room for whatever Yujin has in mind.

Again, clothes seem like such a frivolous waste of energy, and neither of you can even be bothered with those fancy silk bathrobes Yujin looks so good in. Besides, there’s this inescapable feeling you’re going to need all the energy you can spare.

Your suspicions get proven once your back hits the mattress, when Yujin’s lips place chaste kisses down your shoulders and chest before resting her head on you. It’s the rare occasion where you have time to relax, even being aware there’s some devilish intentions stored up, but you’re able to just enjoy the moment with Yujin nuzzled against you, but god—her skin feels so impossibly soft, and she smells so good, even though its just shampoo, body spray, and her natural scent.

“Did you have fun yesterday?” Yujin asks out of the blue, and you don’t have the faintest idea what she’s referring to, but with her, you’ll have to prepare for anything. While you’re waiting for her to explain, her fingers run through your hair, scratching the back of your scalp, which relaxes you enough to fall asleep in an instant as your heavy eyelids shut tight.

“Did you have fun plowing our Wonyoungie yesterday?“ Yujin repeats, with a bit of clarification that leaves a disastrous blush on your face when your eyes spring open. “I went out for a swim while you two were…busy and I could still hear her from the pool.”

It all feels like a lifetime ago that you railed Wonyoung across the entire apartment, but in reality, less than twenty-four hours passed. The image stays fresh in your mind, how you can still feel how Wonyoung clung to your body as you ravaged her down the hallway, and made her cum on your fingers, then again on your tongue, and then even more times on your cock than you could count. You can still hear the whimpers in your ears when you folded Wonyoung in half, and it wouldn’t matter where Yujin was—there wasn’t a quiet spot in the entire apartment.

“Sorry, we should have been more—”

Yujin interrupts you with a kiss before your defenses get too worked up. “There’s no need to be sorry. Hearing you pound that little brat senseless really got me going. Do you know how jealous hearing her scream daddy over and over made me? I just wanted to lie out and enjoy the sun, but I couldn’t stop touching myself, hearing the way you fucked her brains out.

There’s no bigger smile than the one on her face right now.

Jealousy wasn’t a trait you expected from Yujin, but it’s not surprising given how possessive she can get. That image alone, there's something so arousing about it—even more when you know Yujin loves swimming in the nude, and her getting off by the pool as she hears every single scream from Wonyoung, it sends blood flowing to all the right places. Yujin can discern how you’re processing the information, how it gets the gears in your head turning and all your fantasies brought to the surface.

“I don’t usually get myself off when I have you and Wonyoung to do that, but the way you just kept pounding her and pounding her—“

Yujin’s eyes can’t stop growing when she relives the events from yesterday, and it’s clear this is only going to end one way. “I hope you came in her, daddy. I hope you pumped all your cum in that little slut.”

“You think there’s any way I wouldn’t?” You’re almost annoyed that she would dare ask such a thing, like Wonyoung’s tight little body isn’t tailor made for breeding. Regardless, Yujin can only beam from ear to ear, because it’s the answer she wants to hear, even though it would take a herculean effort to not finish inside your mutual younger roommate.

"Wonyoung has such a nice body, doesn’t she? Her perky little tits, tiny waist, and that face? Oh, isn’t it so gorgeous? She’s like a model. Doesn’t it just make you want to blast a nice, thick load all over it? She would look so pretty covered in your cum, daddy.” Yujin looks absolutely feral when she talks like that, and she’s pushing all the right buttons to provoke a reaction out of you, one that you’re hopeless to defend against.

“You know what’ll be even better?” she asks, adding a pause that’s just there to torture you. “When I watch your cock wreck her cunt, being right there when you breed that little cumslut. I can’t wait to see how she takes your huge cock, how that bratty face looks when you’re filling up that pretty little pussy.”

It’s hard to not let your arousal get carried away when Yujin keeps putting ideas in your head, but you have no barriers left to build. She gets you riled up so easily, with just a few simple words to plant the seeds, and your imagination will grow the rest.

“But you know I can’t just watch, right?” Yujin adds, as her voice develops into a low murmur against your ear. ”Next time—we both get to play with her.”

You can see it so vividly, the image of sharing Wonyoung as she gets stretched out on your cock, using her petite body, dominating her in unison, defiling her in every position imaginable—it really gets the blood between your legs pumping. All of it serves as just a sample to whatever Yujin has planned, and she unravels the next step by grabbing the back of your hand, pressing it in between her thighs so you can feel the wetness pooling out of her cunt.

There’s that hungry look again in Yujin’s eyes when she grinds on your fingers long enough to coat them in her inexhaustible slickness. Your respite has all the life span you expected—she won’t be satisfied with just getting your fingers messy, there’s a much more grandiose plan awaiting.

Yujin releases your wrist, but that warm, wet mess clings to your fingertips, dripping down your hand, like it wasn’t obvious she’s raring to start the second act. You get a moment to see how her arousal glistens on your fingers before she brings them up to her mouth, tasting her own sweetness, and sucks it right off without breaking eye contact.

Everything about it looks so erotic, the way Yujin sucks so greedily on your digits and uses the same energy when she goes down on you, cleaning up every single spot of the mess she created. Yujin hums against your fingers, and sucks with such fervor, like the juices she’s licking clean are the most delicious thing she could have in her mouth. It’s hard to decipher the expression on Yujin’s face, whether she looks so ravenous because she’s tasting herself, or if she just loves having your fingers in her mouth.

It doesn't really matter in the end, because it’s all done to grab your attention. You’re just trying to keep that lingering arousal in check, not let it get too carried away—but you can’t say the same for Yujin, who’s gotten so messy with how she’s salivating on your fingers, long past cleaning the taste off them. This is all for her own enjoyment.

“Daddy…” Her voice starts out muffled with how her lips stay attached around your fingers. “Oh, daddy…” Yujin drags out her syllables when she shifts position into a full straddle, resting her weight on your lap as she keeps sliding your wet fingers past her lips. It’s the right kind of messy that has saliva dripping down her chin, and you know there’s no way Yujin can’t feel your cock stiffening up again once she releases your fingers with a sensual pop, letting them travel up her toned abdomen, right up to the valley between her naked breasts.

“I know you love getting your tongue in my cunt,” she says, using your saliva coated digits to squeeze one of her sensitive breasts, then teases her stiff nipple in lazy circles, poorly stifling out a little gasp. “So this time, I’ll make it easier for you.”

This is the part where all of your muscles tense up waiting for Yujin to pounce. It’s an overwhelming anticipation when she brings your index finger back into her mouth, using the tip of her tongue to roll around it before taking it down to the knuckle without even gagging, and makes such a lewd display of it, using you to satisfy her oral fixation.

“Just lay there, daddy. Stay right there so I can ride your cute face.”

The words come out so casually when Yujin pops out your finger, and there’s no answer you could give besides an obedient nod. She knows this, of course, not that it matters what random assortment of words get strung together; the answer will always be the same, but even under that thousand-mile long smile, there’s something more sinister waiting.

It’s a look that sends your heart racing, the suspense deepening when Yujin makes the slow crawl up your body, and ends with a devastating kiss before grabbing the headboard to pull herself up. No other vantage point offers a more appetizing view of that tantalizing pink flesh, and there are no barriers between Yujin when she hovers right above your mouth, spreading herself open with two fingers so her arousal drips down your face.

“Daddy—” Yujin begins to say, but it doesn’t matter how her sentence finishes, because you’re too lost in how tasty her cunt looks. You can’t imagine how it looks on her end, how starved you must look, but you can’t contain your insatiable lust for Yujin, dying for a taste.

And then, that craving becomes reality as Yujin lowers her hips, until those heavenly thighs return to either side of your face. There isn’t even a warning—not that you need one while she presses her soaking wet folds against your face, smearing it with her nectar that trickles into your mouth. You don’t even get the chance to get your tongue on her, because she’s just spreading that wetness wherever she can, and it’s only when you try to savor that taste that she’s pulling away—

Yujin wants to make you work for it.

All you can do is whine at first when her cunt hovers out of reach, and there’s no point in hiding the desperation written all over your face, because she senses every bit. The mischievous laughter and giggles get more and more infuriating when those dripping pussy lips graze your mouth, but she doesn’t keep up this game for long, because the temptation to let you feast becomes too strong to fight.

Once Yujin eventually puts her weight down on you, smothering your face with that soaked cunt, it's like you can finally breathe again once you’re allowed to taste her, and the need for oxygen no longer feels all that necessary. You give her wet entrance the most tentative of licks, savoring the taste that lingers on the tip of your tongue when she grinds against your mouth, which makes you groan right into her, and you just need more.

Can you breathe, daddy?” Yujin asks, not in concern, but a playful little tease when her cunt presses harder against your face. It’s a question devoid of any importance right now, but you shake your head as she keeps lowering herself on you just right, letting you bury your tongue right into the source, and she uses those sinfully soft thighs to squeeze your head like they’re never going to let go.

Yujin moves without an ounce of haste, working at a deliberate tempo so she can savor all those sensations at once while she gets her hands all over the back of your head, keeping your tongue buried between her wet folds. She’s just loving the way you’re desperate to devour her cunt, licking as much of her as your tongue can reach, tasting all that tangy slickness when it flows right into your mouth. This is the perfect spot for you to be, getting her off while you suffocate between those thighs, drowning in her arousal that clings to your lips and keeps trickling down your face.

The real fun happens when Yujin starts to roll her hips, when she’s dominating your face, suffocating you with all her weight. Her cunt drools right on your tongue, soaking every corner of your mouth when you hit the right spots, then she begins to really use your face, tangling those slender fingers in your hair, and grinding on your mouth to further entice your appetite. “Oh fuck, right there, daddy—keep that tongue out, keep making me feel good. You love eating my pussy, don’t you?”

A rather pointless question, one that gets answered with frantic licks instead of words. There’s no greater honor than pleasuring Yujin, and she doesn’t hold back anything when she grinds those powerful hips on your face, fucking herself on your tongue until it leaves an absolute welcome mess on your lips. Yujin loves the attention, having a perfect sense of control, and your sole purpose is to work your tongue through that wet cunt, providing your mouth that she can use to her heart's content.

Yujin clutches the headboard for stability, hips moving with such force that she’s using you like a toy to fuck your face, and all you can do is keep your tongue flicking faster to keep up. She tastes so fucking good, even when you can’t gather up all her nectar into your mouth, the rest spilling out in sticky streams that flow down your chin like a delicious, seemingly endless fountain.

And all the noises she makes, the way she groans, whines on your tongue, all that breathless panting as her body writhes in ecstasy sound so unbelievably sexy, that makes you want to lick her cunt forever.

“Gonna—gonna cum hard, daddy,” Yujin cries out, your favorite words to hear while those hips move on their own. She gets right on that edge, keeping your head still, and she’s almost there, so close, that you can literally taste it—

“Daddy!”

Yujin tenses up when that climax hits, her cunt gushing all over your face. It’s all flooding your tongue, lips, and everything in between as she squeezes her thighs like a vice around your head, just riding those endless waves of bliss that you hope never end.

You’re rather disappointed when she slows her hips, even if it lets you savor the shower of arousal that’s blessed your face. The biggest surprise is how it’s rather calm—because you know firsthand that Yujin can climax like a hurricane. When it all passes and she gets her breathing back under control, you’re a bit too eager during the aftermath, cleaning up wherever you can, while she’s still dealing with the aftershocks, with only enough energy to play with your hair.

Once Yujin catches her breath, she lets out those adorable giggles again while she stays right there on top of you, and takes her sweet time getting off your face, getting a good look at the absolute mess she’s made of you. “Look at daddy all covered in me…”

Yujin is barely even panting, which isn’t that unexpected given how relentless her stamina is, and you’re more in need of recovery than she is. Still, it doesn’t stop her from leaning in to take a kiss before she licks the side of your face, tasting herself all over you.

The words come out muffled when Yujin says, ”Daddy, you taste so good.” She finishes cleaning off her mess until all she leaves are those affectionate kisses alongside your jaw, because she’s never really done with you.

“That’s all my Yujin—“ you stop yourself mid-sentence, realizing the words that just left your lips, nearly choking on them. It’s the sort of thing that just slips out in the heat of the moment, when your mind is too fogged over and consumed with Yujin’s lingering taste. You can tell you've made a mistake when her eyes widen, but there’s no backtracking now—not when you’re this flustered.

Before Yujin can say anything else, you seal her lips with a kiss, one that’s supposed to end in an instant—but she locks in that embrace, keeping your lips captive into something much more prolonged. You know it’s fruitless to disguise your vulnerability when there’s nothing that can wipe that stupid, smug grin off of her face, and after what feels like forever, you’re both just staring for what feels like forever, until Yujin breaks the silence with the most endearing little laugh.

“What was that, daddy?” she questions, and there's an innocent blush on her face when she surrounds in that intense eye contact, but there’s no chance that’s going to have you repeating what just slipped out.

“Nothing,” you mumble, as if Yujin would be satisfied with that response. You know there isn’t anything that will get you out of this, but it won't stop you from trying, looking off to the side to avoid the intense eyes staring a hole through you. Yujin’s a woman with impenetrable defenses, and she’s not going to be distracted easily, holding your face between her palms to prevent your gaze from averting.

“Daddy…”

Yujin pouts with that cute puppy face that isn’t remotely fair, and it doesn’t help that she’s cutely rubbing your cheeks with her thumbs, trying to coax an answer out of you. The power in her gaze never falters, and when she realizes you have no plans to cave, she leans into the crook of your neck, grazing those warm, full lips right on your neck to get those juices flowing again.

“Yujin—'' You want to at least attempt a show of protest, but she’ll know it isn't even half-hearted when her hand cups the back of your head, as she fully latches her mouth onto your neck. It's that special little area that always makes you melt, and you're just lost in her touch, how that warm, wet tongue traces just the right spots, and then she grabs something hidden underneath a pillow—

You only get a moment to glance at a set of light pink, fur-covered handcuffs before Yujin restrains your wrists to the headboard above, leaving you helpless with no choice but to indulge in her desires. There’s an expression on her face that’s all so familiar, but there isn’t enough time to think when Yujin kisses down your body, licks a nipple while flicking the other with her thumb, then travels down your abdomen, sucking marks wherever she can on your skin.

“Our little Wonyoung got to have you inside her all day yesterday, didn’t she?” she asks, that jealous, possessive tone laced in every single syllable, but the question isn’t really intended to get a response. “How many times did you cum inside her? Three? Four?” I can only imagine how pretty her pussy looks when it’s dripping your hot load…”

There’s not another word from Yujin’s lips while she keeps marking your body with her mouth, as she works down to your thighs, spreading them apart before kissing every single spot she can get her lips on—and you’re already getting so hard with just a handful of kisses alone.

The worst part is you can’t even touch her, which makes you tug your frustrations out against the metal around your wrist that prevents you from doing so. It’s already so much to deal with, because Yujin can be the biggest tease, the cutest brat, and the sexiest little demon, all at once—you know you’re in for a long ride.

“But now, daddy,“ she starts, and there’s a different tone to it when it rolls off her tongue. “I get to keep you all to myself. I get to have your amazing cock filling me, pumping my pussy full of that thick cum.”

Those words are enough to drive you insane.

You can feel the hot breath on your thighs that’s she’s kept open, but she hasn’t touched your cock that’s throbbing inches away from her face, only kissing everywhere but where you need, a directionless assortment of pecks that’s only meant to torment.

“You look so good in handcuffs. And now, you’re—all—mine.”

The kisses on your thighs stop just as fast as they start, and then she caresses them, keeping that blood flowing into your loins. Her nails scratch against your skin for some extra stimulation, not enough to cause pain, but to draw your attention from what’s next. “I need you to cum again.”

Every single word Yujin says drips out lust like honey.

The mere sound of her voice puts you on edge, and Yujin sounds so breathless when she squeezes your balls, rolls them between her fingers as your cock twitches for her. If that wasn’t enough, she dips her head down, making nothing but the most shallow licks through your sack, which is more than enough torture—because you can’t even lay a fingertip on her beautiful skin, can’t run your fingers through her hair, you’re so powerless to do anything but squirm and fight against your restraints.

“Your balls feel so nice and heavy, and your cock—“ Yujin pauses as she grabs your shaft by the base and squeezes. “This beautiful fucking cock just belongs inside me. It deserves to fill me up, god—I just need you to breed me again and again, daddy…”

You’re hesitant to say anything that can give off a reaction, since Yujin’s gotten you so riled up that any little thing will set you off, so you remain silent, just letting out a sigh that she manages to still hear. It’s all she needs.

“You need me on your cock, don’t you, daddy? Because I need that thick cock pumping those hot loads, filling my cunt deep.”

It’s a rather redundant question, but that doesn’t stop Yujin from slowly running her hand up your shaft, giving a squeeze at just the right places. She moves nice and slow, feeling your entire length as it throbs under her touch, then takes her thumb to stroke that sensitive part just underneath the head, making the tiniest circles to make you jerk against your restraints.

“Please, Yujin,” you gasp out, long past the point of desperation. She just keeps massaging the swollen tip of your cock, spreading precum everywhere, and you’re fucking leaking like a faucet, but all you want is for her to ride you, to take you so deep until you’re on the verge of exploding—

But you know there isn’t going to be any mercy when she keeps up those little, teasing touches all over your sensitive head, then wraps those fingers around your shaft again, giving it a light stroke, another squeeze, and she just holds it.

“I love seeing you this hard,” Yujin says, stroking down to your balls, giving them a gentle fondle to draw out some more of your frustration, then returns back up to your tip, getting all that precum that oozes out all over her fingers, using it to coat them while she licks it off.

All this teasing is not only doing a number on you, but Yujin, who cuts her plans to indulge herself short. Her hand speeds up the strokes, pumping up and down your entire shaft, giving your head the most generous amount of attention, and then she lets it all go—lets it smack against your abdomen.

“Gonna ride the fuck out of you, daddy,” she growls, and it sounds like both a promise and a threat, but you’re just happy she’s moved past torturing your cock, watching with bated breath as Yujin aligns herself with your length, grabbing it at the base to position it right against her slit. You can already feel the heat emanating from her dripping folds that kiss your aching cockhead, as she positions herself into a squat, spreading those legs wide, and it’s all so close in reach—that you’re just begging for her to drop those hips.

Then Yujin raises herself just enough to place your tip against her entrance—and there isn't any warning or moment to get prepared before you sink into her warmth, all at once, just until her ass rests on your lap, until every single inch is swallowed up by those velvety walls.

"Oh my god," Yujin groans, and rolls those hips in your lap, savoring that fullness inside her pussy before she even thinks about lifting herself back up. It’s slow and methodical, the first agonizing movement she makes—a long, slow rise of her hips that gets held a little too long before she makes her descent, impaling herself on your shaft, making herself all perfectly stretched out.

Yujin starts riding with all the power in those shapely thighs, fucking herself onto your cock, and you can feel that silky grip take over, the one that squeezes so fucking tight that you hope it never lets you go. It’s the best reward Yujin can give you. You’ve earned it you think, for enduring everything Yujin has thrown at you, and with each stroke of her hips, you feel those wet lips of her slit tightening up, glazing your cock in all her juices when she raises up again, just to slam down hard, burying you in that intense heat.

It all repeats over and over, while the frustration never ends, only being able to watch it unfold, and it’s like she’s taunting you with the use of her hands, playing with your chest, digging her nails against your chest, teasing your nipples before her hands just run all over you.

“Yujin—“ you moan, the first thing that leaves your mouth in quite some time, and it sounds so unbecoming, so pathetic, because you're so, so desperate to get your hands all over those sexy curves, get your tongue all over her beautiful skin. Those hips keep the momentum rolling as they crash against you, the sound of her supple asscheeks making a resounding smack whenever they collide against you, and Yujin rides you just like you’ve yearned for, in a state of peak euphoria, like you're all hers to use for as long as she wants, for as long as she needs.

Being forced into this passive role, it has you more pent up than you can stand, only able to watch your cock get swallowed up to the hilt, without the ability to touch a single inch of that toned body, and Yujin knows it. She’s executing this devious plan of hers to perfection, because she sees the annoyance in your eyes, that you’d give anything to squeeze that perfect ass, lift her up and make her take more of you, but you can’t—and she fucking loves that more than anything.

“Daddy, you like this, right? You like watching me fuck you? Watching me stretch myself on your thick, throbbing cock, fuck—you’re going to make such a huge fucking mess inside me.”

Yujin moves those hips with such ferocity that it gets your breathing all heavy and uneven, becoming a struggle to keep up with that dizzying pace that gets your moans going, getting every last inch deep in her pussy. Her nails dig into your chest like she wants to etch her name there, as she squeezes that perfect little cunt around you, taking you balls deep like it isn’t even a challenge, and nothing gets in her way of doing so.

She fucks herself like there’s something to prove, like you didn’t already know how good Yujin is at riding cock, and then shows off just how wild those hips can really get, starts to fuck you harder than you can comprehend, taking it all to a new level as that body keeps up a brutal pace.

There’s nothing for you to do other than lie there helplessly, but what’s there to complain about when you have the best view of how your cock disappears into Yujin’s suffocating heat? You can feel every orgasmic sensation, those juicy lips that grip so fucking well, and they might never let you go.

“God, Yujin—“ you breathe out, and you can’t even finish a sentence at this rate. Yujin is fucking your cock so fast that the slap of her ass against your crotch becomes hypnotic, the obscene sounds of her dripping cunt being impaled mercilessly get so fucking loud that it almost drowns out any noises Yujin makes.

It’s fucking beautiful to watch how hard those hips can bounce, and Yujin isn’t showing any signs of slowing down, quite the opposite—she’s just taking advantage of your body, riding your cock like she fucking owns it, taking that girth as deep it’ll go. Not a single fucking inch of it gets neglected through those suffocating slippery depths, as she uses you like her own personal toy, and you’ve never been more proud to be treated as such.

Yujin’s so intent on making you hers, leaving scratch marks on your skin as a display, like she wants to really drive home who owns you, and when she takes every inch you have to offer, there’s absolutely no breathing room—and you wouldn’t dream of any. Those careless motions keep herself stretched out, so you can see how much your cock disappears into her pussy, how wildly her breasts bounce with each pump of her hips, how the sweat just runs all down that beautiful body that you wish you could lick clean.

“Daddy, your cock—feels so good, feels so fucking good when you get this deep in my cunt. I’m gonna make you fucking breed me,” Yujin says, and she’s so drunk on lust that her words are slurring, her face a mess of sweat that makes her look even more all too irresistible.

Through the thick of it all, Yujin leans in, demanding your lips, and her kisses are so wet and sloppy that there’s hardly anything left but lust in them. She takes every chance to slip her tongue in your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip every so often just as another show of dominance—a display to make sure you know she’s still got the reins until she pulls away, resuming her focus on taking your cock like a champ.

“I’m gonna make you cum,” she says with such conviction, nothing less than a guarantee, when she takes both your cheeks in her hands, looking deep into your eyes that show every bit of compliance.

The look she flashes nearly gets you creaming inside right then and there, and Yujin looks absolutely depraved. With each sharp drop of those hips, you jerk harder against the handcuffs that shackle you, and it’s only getting tougher to breathe. Yujin only gets tighter and tighter the rougher she gets, putting more aggression into those movements—the harder your hips collide, the faster she goes, until it’s unbearable how good it all feels.

“Daddy’s gonna pump all that hot cum inside me until I’m all nice and filled up.” You’re already too close to comfort to respond with anything but a moan, and you have to grit your teeth just to hold on whenever that pussy tightens, whenever Yujin takes you to the hilt.

And then she hits her climax out of nowhere with one last drop of her hips, a tsunami with no prior warning. She braces herself on your chest, but it’s not enough; she’s shaking, shuddering, legs quivering as she throws her head back, moaning your name, and it’s just so wet—

That greedy little cunt grips tight, tighter than you can bear as Yujin keeps climaxing on your cock, and the waves hit one after the next, making her shriek and scream—but you’re just tugging on your restraints hard enough to leave more marks as you try to hold back from exploding inside that warm velvety heaven.

Yujin’s selfish for more bliss, even before her body can settle down, she’s frantically rubbing her clit to expedite another explosive climax that rips through her body with such ferocity that your cock slips out of her heat—and then she’s violently squirting all over your stomach and crotch, her juices raining down your body in a torrent. “Fuck, fuck, oh my god—“

All at once, that gushing between her legs splashes down everywhere, showing no plans to relent as her legs threaten to give out underneath her, and the sounds that spill out of Yujin are just as unstoppable as the mess that showers you, until her entire body is a shaking mess. The spasms rocking her don’t get any easier to manage, not unlike your cock that twitches in pathetic throbs from the loss of her heat, aching to be sheathed once again.

There’s no pause for Yujin to rest, even if her legs can’t stop trembling, she goes straight to shoving you back inside her at the right moment, because there’s only a modicum of time to spare when she resumes the vigorous riding of your cock, picking right back up where she left off.

“Give me all that cum, daddy, need you to blow that fucking load deep in my cunt. Come on, I know you can’t last any longer. Breed me, breed me, fucking fill my womb, daddy.” Yujin couldn’t sound any more demanding if she tried, and there’s nothing to stop the floodgates from bursting open when your balls tense up, eager to flood her insides.

That’s the last set of words you can comprehend when she slams her hips down one last time, purging every remaining ounce of restraint from your body.

All that’s left to do is groan in ecstasy when her slick, pulsating walls milk that load right out of your cock, pumping it inside Yujin, like her pussy has been begging for it for days. That first spurt is always so intense, and it shoots so fucking deep that your toes curl like crazy, leaving you on the brink of blacking out. There’s just so much cum that gets released into that hot little hole, and you can’t stop moaning her name on your lips, bucking so desperately in the air, while Yujin just keeps rolling those hips, extracting every single drop of that thick seed, and fuck, it feels like there’s so much more left in those balls to drain.

Yujin can just feel your entire body trembling beneath her, how that hot cum fires into her, and she can feel how you throb, your entire shaft twitching when she milks it for everything she can, taking all those spurts that fill her to the brim, until you have nothing left to give.

You’re so fucking drained to the point of feeling delirious—three orgasms in as many hours as you’ve been awake is a lot to endure, but there’s not a thing left in your aching balls, and Yujin knows it. Even with that endless stamina, you think she might finally let you rest when she finishes out the tuckered out gyrations that keep you buried in her sticky folds, clenching around you to earn the last remaining spurts that leave you lightheaded.

“There's so much in me, my pussy just feels too good not to fucking fill up, right? And it feels so good to be daddy’s perfect little cum dump…”

Her cunt doesn’t leave a drop left to spill out, but that’s not going to stop Yujin from keeping your cock nice and hard inside that warmth, while she grinds in slow, tortuous motions to let your climax ride out for as long as possible.

When her hips finally settle and there’s nothing but exhaustion from your lips, Yujin leans forward to move the hair from your sweaty forehead, then runs her fingers through it to help you catch your breath, even as your eyes struggle to stay open.

“Your load feels so good inside me, daddy,” Yujin says, and there’s hardly any fatigue in the way she’s speaking. “It’s just so warm, my pussy feels so full. I made you cum a lot, didn’t I?”

There's a sense of pride in her tone as her hips give one last pump on your spent cock just for good measure. All you can manage is a weak, muffled groan, but that's all Yujin needs, because the satisfaction on her face couldn’t be more obvious when she brings those perfect lips to your own, taking a long kiss that feels like there’s some finale to this all.

Heavy as they feel, you keep your eyelids from falling, just so you can take in Yujin’s beauty, from the sheen of sweat on her soft skin, to the strands of hair sticking to her forehead, and how she looks when her lips curl into this beautiful smile you’re almost certain has a hidden meaning behind, but you’re going to enjoy it anyway.

The end of the line of this all has to be within reach, you figure, (at least you hope), so there's only one thing left for Yujin to do, and the anticipation has never been higher. With widened eyes, you intently watch as she sits up, lifting her hips off you until your cock regrettably slips free of that hot vice—then you’re left with the perfect view of that huge creamy load spilling out of her messy pussy, oozing down her sweaty thighs.

Her slit looks so glistening, and those lower lips are such a fucking mess when your seed drips out of her, but it’s so enticing you can’t look away, not wanting to miss a second of the spectacle.

Yujin spreads her legs a little wider to show you her cum-filled pussy, how it leaks down to the sheets, and then dips her hand in between those thighs, collecting your messy load that you’ve given her, or rather that she’s taken from you onto her fingers, fucking it back into her folds before bringing them to her mouth.

It’s all such a filthy sight that it keeps you hard and throbbing, seeing Yujin lick her fingers clean, humming in delight like it's the best meal she's had, before shoving her fingers right back in her cunt to scoop up more. She keeps giving that thick, gooey load another taste, and Yujin just looks so pleased with herself.

That same look doesn’t dare disperse when Yujin takes her time to crawl over your body, inch by inch, until it fades into something more wicked—and then she seizes your cock, jerking it off hard and fast, because she knows how fucking raw and sensitive it is.

“Fuck, Yujin—god, oh my god, please,” you cry out, but Yujin just keeps stroking away at your overworked length, with nothing but sadistic pleasure etched all over her face. There’s hardly any bliss left in those furious strokes, it’s just pain and pleasure, competing back and forth, with the former sure to take the lead soon enough.

“You're not all tired out are you, daddy?” she asks, with that same grin clinging to her lips as she grips harder around your shaft, squeezing a harsh fist around your tender cockhead, drawing out every ounce of overstimulation. There’s no energy left to protest, and it’s not like anything you would say would convince Yujin anyway.

“I said I was going to keep milking your cock, so come on, daddy—don’t you have more cum for me? Don’t you wanna blow another load?”

You open your mouth intending to plead her to stop, that your cock is too fucking sensitive, but all that comes out are sounds that don’t resemble anything even close to words, nothing but loud, embarrassing whimpers and whines that you can’t hold in. There’s little you can do but lay there as Yujin refuses to stop stroking your cock, looking you right in the eye with that cocky little smile, like she still has a point to make, ensuring every frantic pump she makes is a cocktail of agony and bliss.

“Doesn’t this feel good, daddy? Having your cock jerked off while you stare at my naked body? You can’t be that sensitive if you’re still so fucking hard,” Yujin taunts, with a grip long past painful, and that fucking grin isn’t going anywhere.

Those devilish fingers just keep pumping, keep torturing your cock, sliding over your shaft as Yujin squeezes with so much intensity that you’re barely cognizant of how much every stroke hurts, but she’s prepared to send you towards yet another release that your balls don’t have to offer.

And just like that—in record time, you’re blasting whatever is left from your balls in the short time they’ve filled back up, shooting all over your stomach, glazing your abdomen in this thin, watery semen that doesn't even compare to the previous pleasure Yujin has drawn from your body. But she’s so greedy she won’t give a damn, because milking out such a pitiful, measly load like that still gives her all the satisfaction necessary.

At the very least, Yujin cleans you up, because those pathetic clear strands that splatter across your abdomen belong to her, and she wouldn’t dare let them go to waste. Her tongue drags all the way across your stomach, dipping down to your balls, before flicking up to your cockhead, cleaning off your unbearably sensitive slit.

Yujin spends just enough time using her tongue to play around with your cock to drive you up the wall, licking wherever she can, and then she seals those greedy lips around your swollen head, applying the harshest suction she can muster. You’re not sure what she’s doing can even be classified as pleasure anymore, and it’s all making you squirm so uncontrollably that you’re liable to break those cuffs.

The littlest touch sets all those sensitive nerves ablaze, making you almost blow another load when her mouth slides down to your base, and Yujin just holds you there in her warm throat—one, two, three. It’s just mere seconds, but it all feels like an excruciating eternity when she comes up with a messy pop, planting a parting kiss on your oversensitive tip that’s just dying to be left alone.

She stalls for a moment, letting the anticipation really linger—then out of nowhere, she lets go of your helpless cock as it gets that chance to rest against your stomach.

Yujin doesn’t do anything else, but keep that fucking smug look on her face.

And you’ve never been so relieved.

Yujin swings her legs around your hips, playfully messing up your hair more than it has been. Beads of sweat still cling to her body, but she doesn’t even look the slightest out of breath. “Daddy—“

There’s another pause before she offers up the rest of her thoughts.

“Oh hey, there you two are.”

It’s Wonyoung. Because of course it is. She’s standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and god knows how long she’s been there. Based on her wet hair, she’s fresh out of the shower, with a white towel wrapped over her petite figure, but still somehow manages to bask in elegance.

Wonyoung takes one look at you on the bed, in your pathetic state of recovery, but unlike before, there’s acknowledgement straight away when she then turns her attention to Yujin. “So that’s why you weren’t answering your phone…”

Yujin looks over her shoulder and smiles at Wonyoung. “We've been a little preoccupied."

"I can see that.” Wonyoung takes a couple of steps inside the room, and looks so amused at the sight of you bound to the bed, her gaze shamelessly wandering along your naked body. “Well, since none of us have class tomorrow, I thought we should all go out for dinner. Get a couple drinks in us without having to worry about being hungover for early morning lectures.”

The last thing you want is to venture out of this apartment, especially in this state of exhaustion, but there’s such excitement in Wonyoung’s eyes when she speaks that you couldn’t fathom turning her down.

Yujin looks back at you, and all you can give is the weakest nod of approval. “Let me get daddy out of these handcuffs, and then we’ll get cleaned up.”

An eerie silence fills the room when the cuffs come off, and you feel like you’ve risen to the surface for air, even though your wrists are rubbed raw and sore. Yujin rectifies this by kissing them with the most tender smacks, massaging her thumbs into your reddened skin, and it feels a little strange to regain the use of them after being without them for so long.

Now, the messy sheets underneath your bodies should probably be tossed—there’s no saving something so stained with copious amounts of sweat and other bodily fluids (yet another reminder that, god, Yujin just squirts so much), and it’s not like she doesn’t have an infinite amount of similar expensive sheets with a matching pattern in her linen closet.

“You know, daddy looks good in handcuffs…” Wonyoung says with a cheeky smile, as she edges closer towards the bed. Between the two women, they share a knowing glance, one that makes them both giggle out loud at once, leaving you a little terrified of what they’re both thinking.

“What are we in the mood for?” Wonyoung thankfully changes the subject to focus back on food, something you’ll never pass up an opportunity to indulge in.

“There’s this new steakhouse that we should try. It’s on the other side of town, but—“

“Oh, I love steak!” Wonyoung says, interrupting the older girl, and again, there’s just so much enthusiasm in her bright voice.

“Steak it is then.” After Yujin dismounts your body, not a single one of your muscles wants to cooperate when you try to lift yourself up. Yujin can’t help but let out a pitiful laugh as she offers assistance, though it ends up being more of a struggle to try to support your dead weight when your limbs refuse to move in tandem with your thoughts.

“You really did a number on him, huh?” Wonyoung asks when she settles beside the older girl on the edge of the mattress, making it dip with the added weight.

“It’s nothing daddy can’t handle.”

That sass in Yujin’s tone is all the motivation you need to lift yourself up, and then, before you know it, you’re on your feet, albeit with wobbly legs that feel like they’re made of jelly.

It’s strange how natural it feels to be in the middle of Yujin’s bedroom, fully naked, while your two pretty roommates sit and stare at your nude form like a piece of meat. The marks on your wrists won’t fade for days, but it’s the least of your worries right now, because the thought of a nice, juicy steak makes your mouth water almost more than Yujin herself.

“…Are we getting cleaned up or not?”

Asking Yujin that is a dangerous gamble, but you know that Wonyoung will keep you on schedule, as you’ll never hear the end of her complaints if you keep her waiting.

“I’ll get myself dressed and wait in the kitchen,” is all Wonyoung replies with, the hem of her towel flirting just above the curves of her ass when she departs. It’s enough to rile up your imagination, but you keep those thoughts suppressed.

Because you’re sure there’s going to be a lot more where that came from before the night is over.

#ive smut #yujin smut #kpop smut #reader insert #izone smut #male reader #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #ive #yujin #ive x reader

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peaktora · 8 months

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𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 ˚◞♡ ⃗ dad!satoru gojo

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ when gojo comes home, he’s delighted to see his daughter applying makeup to his wife's face.

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊0.9k words. you & gojo have a daughter (obviously). established relationship (married). the reader is referred as “mommy” by the kid but other than that there’s no use of fem terms.

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚.┊i completelyy overdid it, this was supposed to be under six hundred words but oh well

late at night, with the moon casting a soft glow, gojo wearily steps into his home. all he wanted now was to unwind. his body was sore and he craved food, a hot shower, and then sleep. as fast as possible. which he was sure would be put on hold because of you and his daughter. two people he trusted were still awake — who always stayed up just to see him.

he laughs to himself, remembering the countless times he scolded you and your daughter for sacrificing your sleep. but in truth, he loved the surprises he came home to. whether it was you two baking together, with him joining in, or watching a movie where he'd have to catch up on the first 30 minutes, he cherished those moments spent with you and your daughter. it was a family thing.

he quietly slips off his shoes and places them on the wooden rack, the only sound in the house. "they must be sleep," he reasons. he couldn't help but frown. carefully tiptoeing to the kitchen, he heads straight to the fridge, first thing on the list of unwinding being food.

just as he's about to open the fridge, a symphony of giggles dances down from upstairs.

his brows furrowed, hand hesitating on the fridge handle, and glancing towards the stairway. after about thirty seconds of silence, he's convinced that he must've misheard it. but to his surprise, he hears it again.

a smile spreads across his face, knowing his girls were indeed awake and waiting for him.

his mind races as he weighs the options: dinner or investigate the source of the giggles? though deep down, he knows it's a pointless battle. especially when without a second thought, he finds himself practically skipping upstairs. anticipation intertwines with exhaustion, knowing that his loved ones awaits, ready to embrace him in their hold.

thankfully, the sound was so loud that it led him straight to the room where the laughter was coming from. as he approached his bedroom door, voices began to replace the laughter, growing louder and more distinct.

“hmm…what should we do now?”

“well, you’ve got a lot of options.”

his curiosity piqued, he tiptoed closer, skillfully avoiding the creaky floorboards he knew so well. with a gentle touch, he pushed the door open just enough to create a small crack, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the scene inside.

there, in the softly lit room, his daughter sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by an array of colorful makeup. the girl’s tiny fingers carefully picked up an eyeliner pencil, her brows furrowing in concentration.

"okay, eyeliner is next mommy!" she declared.

you chuckled softly, leaning closer to her. "alright, my little artist, show me what you've got.”

sitting face to face, eyes locked in a shared moment of love and trust, she delicately traced the pencil along your eyelids. her movements were a mix of focus and excitement, her small hands guided by an invisible artistic instinct. as the lines took shape, her face brightened more and more.

"you're doing great, my little artist," you whispered, voice filled with pride.

she just poked her tongue out from the corner of her lips.

even by only looking through the door, gojo’s heart swelled with a mixture of pride and tenderness watching the scene unfold. it was a simple moment, yet it held so much love. and he loved that.

just as he started to close the door, a sudden creak reverberated through the room. damn it. he stands frozen, desperately hoping that neither of you had noticed. but his hopes were dashed when his daughter's voice rang out, "daddy, is that you?"

his nerves tingled, and he hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage before finally responding, "yes, sweetheart, it's me."

he slowly pushes the door open, finally revealing his presence. your eyes lock, and a silent conversation unfolds, filled with unspoken words and understanding. it was as if he wanted to say he should've let you know he was here, but before he could speak, the girl infront of you interrupted.

"daddy, come join us!" she exclaimed.

he quickly took a seat beside you, watching as his daughter moved from you to him with the eyeliner in hand.

gojo playfully shook his head, teasing his kid, "no way, kiddo. eyeliner isn’t my style." though once she pouted, he couldn't resist her charm, and with a smile, he relented, "alright, just this once."

"maybe twice," she added, dragging the pencil gently along his eyelid.

“maybe twice.” in his head, he was more than happy to let her do it as many times as she wanted.

groaning, you stood up. “well, you two have fun."

gojo shut his eyes, "hey, how ‘bout a little photoshoot after this?" he suggests.

you place a kiss on his head, "yeah, no, tough pass." and with that, you retreated into the bathroom.

soon as gojo heard the bathroom light flicker on, he peaked open an eye, a playful grin on his face. "looks like it's just me and you now, kiddo.”

“close your eyes!” she huffed.

he obediently replied, "yes ma'am," as she closed his eyes for him.

it didn't matter to him if his eyeliner was smudged or if he hadn't done his nightly routine as planned. what mattered was him getting to add another midnight memory to his collection of family moments.

for the most part, he didn't really care if you three stayed up late if it meant he could add more. actually, scratch that — and put an emphasis on "the most part" because he is fucking exhausted.

#(っˆ ³(ˊ ᵕ ˋก ) ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 ࿐ྂ #i had to physically take a break from writing this bc the amount of fluff is unbearable #wrote this instead of sleeping #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo headcanons #gojo scenarios #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons

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moongreenlight · 2 months

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Said my piece about stalker!soap but how could I forget stalker ex boyfriend!ghost????????????!

Cw: Creepy crawler behavior. Stalking. Breaking in.

Maybe you should stop listening to true crime podcasts at work.

It feels entirely silly. You’re surely working yourself up over nothing, but some mornings you wake up and have to explain-away the way that your toothbrush is in the wrong spot or that there’s a lunch packed in the fridge that you can’t remember putting together yourself. There’s pictures on your phone that look like your dark bedroom that you’re pretty sure you didn’t take yourself. Maybe you accidentally took it on the way to bed? While you were getting up to use the bathroom?

You talk yourself blue in the face explaining it away well enough that you convince yourself your flat must be haunted. It seems almost logical? Better than any of the alternatives you can come up with if nothing else.

You live with the infrequent tweaks and changes to your surroundings. Lights on you shut off. Doors open you left closed. Your laptop charger going missing when you were certain you left it on the desk.

You almost go so far as to get a motion-activated light to plug into the outlet by your bedroom door, but you convince yourself against it after wandering the aisles of a drugstore with it in your cart long enough for an employee to start following you around. You toss it back on the wrong shelf and buy a packet of sweets you won’t eat in an attempt to not look like you were casing the joint.

But then it picks up. Gets more serious. Windows being opened while you sleep. Strange creaking of floorboards that are too loud to be the building settling. Your bed being made when you get back from an outing you had to rush out the door for. Massive men’s sweaters showing up in your in-unit dryer. The trash being emptied while you were at work. It gets so bad that you stop staying at home because it’s simply too creepy.

It’s the kind of fear that settles in the craggy parts of your brain. Seems silly if you think about it too hard the same way being scared of the dark in your closet after watching a horror movie does. Being scared of a potentially haunted apartment doesn’t really convey the severity of the situation when you try and talk about it with people.

You stay with friends. Couch surf as long as you can until you cannot possibly force people to take you in any longer. And when you’ve exhausted all other options, you find yourself texting Ghost for the first time in months.

Hey.

It’s hours before he responds. Not unusual. And instead of him texting back, you see a phone call block out the video you’re watching on your phone from a very well-lit spot in the living room. Also not unusual.

You pick up, but it takes you a few seconds to choke out words around the sudden lump in your throat.

“Forget how to answer the phone?”

He sounds irritated -again- not unusual.

It’s quiet where he is. Sounds like maybe he’s in a smaller space. His bedroom or his car? Though you couldn’t imagine him out at this hour of the night.

“Sorry. No. I- sorry.”

Shifting from his end. The static of fabric brushing past the microphone. A hefty sigh.

“Sorry.”

“You said.”

“Uh- I don’t really know how to ask you this, it’s- silly. I don’t know. Are you- um- busy?”

“S’half one in the morning.”

“It was a better time when I texted.”

It’s hard not to snark at him.

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean no. I’m not busy.”

You’d love nothing more than to hang up on him, but you stayed up the entire two nights before because you couldn’t find anyone to come stay with you and you were getting desperate.

“Could you come over?”

#moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #drabble #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost

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fixyourwritinghabits · 2 months

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Checking In

Good day my fellow exhausted creatives, it sure does be A Time we're going through. There is certainly a lot of things happening at once, and like many of you I'm struggling to stay afloat while desperately playing catch-up. I'll be honest, shit's pretty damn fucked up. Sometimes it helps to take a step back and reflect on some reminders.

Don't panic.

People are facing a lot of hard choices when it comes to what platforms to use, and I know it's pretty tempting to burn everything down. Take a deep breath and think about your options. Nightshade and Glaze aren't perfect, true, but they're open about their limitations and are still tools you can use. Look into alternative word processors beyond Google Docs that won't have AI-scraping. Take your time deciding what to do with your creative output and where to share it. I am Old, and I have seen several social media websites crash and burn. You will always have more options.

Take care of yourself first.

I've seen a lot of people burning themselves out hard over things they can't control. Gaza, anti-LGBTQ issues, American politics, it's a whole lot and it's all overwhelming. You cannot accomplish anything if you don't take the time to put your oxygen mask first. Eat, sleep, turn your phone off when you feel yourself being sucked in. This seems obvious, but it's often the hardest thing to do, believe me I know. You gotta keep yourself going before you can help others.

Small things still matter.

There's a lot of things you can still do even when you feel like you can't. You can sign petitions, you can promote the activism of others. Vote in local elections. Keep yourself informed without drowning - check your news sources once a day rather than all the time. Talk to your friends, spend time with your pets, find ways to help in your local community (a great place to find resources is your library!). Go for a walk with a trash picking tool and a garbage bag. A small difference is still a difference.

Recharge Creatively.

It can be hard to do creative things when you feel like there's so many other important things to do. But being creative - creating art, writing a story, doing a hobby - IS important to yourself and others. Sometimes you have to force yourself to do so - I have to put "watch a movie" on my to do list, or I'll never make time for it. Go to a coffee shop and make art. Play that new video game. Write that silly coffee shop AU. These things are important to you, and they will carry through with what you want to do for others.

Do what you can when you can and you will make it through.

#gentle suggestions for trying times

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raeofsunrise · 5 months

Note

can you please make a fluff piece where the reader moves in to boyfriend!Mike’s house? I enjoy reading your work!

hey-o! and thank you! kind of back from the dead with this fic, but i really love this request so i had to do it. for all of those who have put in requests, i swear i’m getting to those! they’re cooking, promise. (also not a christmas fic but i love these christmas borders made by @saradika-graphics so i had to use them) enjoy!! ☆

moving day

words: 409 (short i know, sorryy)

pairing: boyfriend!mike schmidt x gn!reader

warnings: light cursing, and just some cute domestic fluff ❤️

————

“okay, i think that should do it.” mike says as he places the last of your boxes onto the bedroom floor.

“thank god.” you groan, exhaustedly. it had been a long day of moving, walking, and carrying for you both.

moving-in was exciting for you. when mike first extended the offer, you thought that he was kidding. but no. he actually wanted you to live with him, and that made you feel a myriad of happy little emotions.

“now, we just gotta unpack.” he states.

you let out an even more exhausted groan in response.

you had about half a dozen boxes, and unpacking them was not an option for you. due to major exhaustion—and let’s just be honest, unwillingness—you flopped down on his your bed in hopes that you’ll fall asleep and when you wake up, everything would be taken care of.

mike, on the other hand, was more amused than exhausted. yea, getting all the boxes from your car sucked, but this was certainly brightening up his day. actually, just you in general brightened up his day. he wasn’t the type of person to show his emotions, but the fact that he could call his bed “our bed” now made him want to do like, several mental backflips.

so he couldn’t really be mad at your childlike tantrum you were throwing just now. i mean, it was pretty funny. but he knew if you never unpacked today, those boxes would become part of the house, and he didn’t feel like navigating through a bunch of boxes for the next couple of years, so he decided to be a good boyfriend and help you get off the bed,

by pushing you off, like a good boyfriend would do.

you land on the ground with a loud thud, which emits an unusual giggle from mike.

“you motherfucker.” you say while laying face down on the ground.

he walks over to you and crouches down to get on your level. you open your eyes to find him smiling at you in your immature state. before he can react you kiss him and pull him down by his neck so now he’s on laying on the ground kissing you.

he’s quick to wrap his arm around your lower back and pull you, so you’re both on your sides. you put a hand up on his cheek and smile into the kiss.

yeah, you could definitely get used to this every day.

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson x reader #clapton davis #clapton davis x reader #peeta mellark x reader #josh futturman x reader

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eoieopda · 1 year

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darksided (myg)

Min Yoongi adored you. He'd simply never hurt you - unless you asked.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader | Darksided AU Type: One-Shot - SMUT (You must be 18+ to ride this ride.) Sequel to foresight, but can be read as a stand-alone fic. Word Count: 4.4K Content: established relationship au; soft bf yoongi turned mean!dom!yoongi at the request of sub!reader; p in v penetration; unprotected sex/creampie (be safe, y'all); oral sex (m receiving); brief face-fucking; v fingering; squirting; a lil degradation and spit kink, as a treat; harsh language; after-care; also cavity-inducing fluff A/N: This was nine (9) pages in Word - my longest smut ever, all because this man-bun era has got me FUCKED up. Barely proofread (sorry ily). Check out my other fics here. Listen to the playlist here. 12/11/22 A/N: The sequel, blindsided, is finally here! check it out when you're done here :)

“When I signal you, that’s when you press the button, okay?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared down at his recording equipment – a galaxy in its own right, lit up like a Christmas tree. He may as well have asked you to defuse a bomb, except you couldn’t even identify the bomb. “There are approximately three thousand buttons in front of me right now,” you whined.

He was exhausted and you knew it – you could feel it – but his patience with you was, as always, limitless. His fondness for you still shone through his eyes, overpowering the dark circles looming below, as if he hadn’t made a mistake in inviting you into his office. Then there was his laugh, surprising enough to smack you but so soft that it cradled you. “It’s the only one that says ‘record,’ jagiya.”

A quick survey of the landscape before you indicated that this was a criminal oversimplification. There was a minimum of four options fitting his description, and all of them looked both breakable and expensive. You blinked down at the sound board, then back up at him, dumbfounded. “I think you made a mistake letting me in here.”

Again, with the laugh – knocking you prone, nudging you closer to an early grave. Somehow, out of all of time and space, you got to exist in the same lifetime that he did. How lucky you were to have him, and his wind chime laugh all to yourself.

You were lovesick and it was chronic.

“Look down at your left hand – no, baby, don’t move it – that knob above your middle finger?” He was standing on tiptoe inside the booth, gesturing as if he was landing a plane. Your eyes darted up to follow the path of his fingers, then back down to the board. “Go diagonally up from that knob for two rows. Do you -”

Overcome with a sense of unearned pride, you pressed down on the button, beaming. You certainly had not been signaled, but nonetheless, your efforts were rewarded. Importantly, that reward was now recorded for prosperity. Your favorite mixtape, the soundtrack of your racing heart, a lullaby: “I really couldn’t love you more if I tried.”

His wide smile, like his tone, was sweet enough to cause a cavity. You were folded up like a pretzel in his chair, but somehow, your knees still seemed to wobble.

You were lovesick and it was terminal.

“Should I shut it off now until you’re ready to start?” You asked with cheeks glowing pink.

He shook his head, still grinning. “I can cut it down. I do need you to cue the track, though – when I signal you.” He stated the last bit of his sentence slowly, shooting you a pointed look and then a wink.

You were once lovesick and now you are dead.

Finger hovering over the ‘play’ button, you watched him wide-eyed, anxious to avoid another mishap. His faith in you may have been unshakeable, but yours wasn’t – and this third mixtape was his magnum opus. You’d rather explode into a cloud of dust than mess up the tireless work he’d put into it so far.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, centering himself. Without looking, he raised his hand and pointed silently to you. Within seconds, your mind was blown.

Min Yoongi contained multitudes. Despite your years together, it never ceased to amaze you how your beloved introvert – who said more with actions than anyone could communicate with words – could transform the way he did. Moments ago, his voice was a blanket, fresh out of the dryer, but now? Now, his presence electrified you. There was an unapologetic confidence – callousness, even - that you only saw when he rapped.

Even his body language changed, like he’d evolved right before your eyes. You couldn’t look away because there was nothing else worth looking at – just him, top to bottom. The way he held his head, lips nearly touching the microphone, highlighted the deadly curve of his jaw. Carved from marble, luminescent and sharp. The strain of his neck, vibration visible in the column of his throat as he growled out his bars. Then down, down, down to his hands. His rings caught the light from above him, refracting slivers of white as his fingers moved with the beat.

Oh, how you wanted them wrapped around your throat.

Seeing him like this had you spellbound – feral, if you were being honest. As you watched, bottom lip clamped hard between your teeth, a heatwave crashed over you; it burned you from the inside out. Sometimes, you dreamt about this version of him. Your Yoongi adored you. He showered you with affection, respect, and praise. He’d never dream of hurting you.

But would he, if you asked?

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear him finish the take.

“Aegiya?” There was a hint of concern in his voice that told you he’d called out to you more than once already.

You swallowed hard and shifted in his chair. “Yes?”

He slid his wireless headphones down until they rested around his neck. The bright red band leaned against his cheekbone as he tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Are you alright? You looked like you were in a trance.”

He wasn’t wrong. You were hypnotized, and it was entirely his fault.

When you merely hummed in response – too distracted by his features to form a coherent sentence – he opened the door to the booth and stepped out. He pulled the headphones off completely and set them down on the counter before walking straight to you.

You were vibrating. Could he feel it?

The trembling only intensified when he reached you. Looking down at you, he ran the pad of his thumb over your cheek.

“Tell me.” He said, as if that brief touch informed him of the maelstrom spinning circles in your brain. “Something’s got you dizzy.”

Psychic.

Suddenly, you were shy. This man knew and loved every single aspect of you, and still you felt embarrassed. If you begged him to fuck you – not just make love to you – would he laugh at you? Even worse, would he be offended? You didn’t want him to think that what you had wasn’t already perfect because it was.

His eyes scanned your face, narrowing just slightly as he tried to read your mind. The two of you were silent for what felt like hours before you saw it – his pupils dilating, offset by the spark of silent understanding. The corner of his mouth twitched when he cracked the secret code. The hand caressing your cheek lowered slowly until it came to rest on your throat, thumb harshly directing your jaw – and your gaze - upwards.

“Is it me, baby?” He teased with a voice like velvet, cocking his head to the side with a smirk that left you stupid. “Have I got you dizzy?”

Involuntarily, you whimpered. So stunned by his stare that you were speechless. Melting into a puddle. Dripping.

He exhaled sharply through his nose – a cruel, quiet laugh - and his eyes darkened further. “I can’t give you what you want if you can’t tell me what that is.”

Once again, you shifted in your seat. You were suddenly so painfully aware of every nerve in your body, each one tingling like a live wire. Even your thighs clenched, trying desperately to apply pressure where you needed it most. You craved him so badly that it ached.

“I don’t want you to be gentle with me,” was your answer, though it sounded more like a question. “I - I know that you -”

His hand shifted quickly from underneath your jaw. He now had your cheeks pinned between his thumb and middle finger, squeezing hard to cut off your sentence before you could finish it. There was a microscopic pause as his eyes searched yours for permission. You blinked and nodded to the fullest extent you could within his grasp.

“Stupid girl. You know nothing.”

Muffled by his hand, your weak moan was barely audible, but he could feel the way your breathing quickened. The rise and fall of your eager chest. The way your nipples, yet untouched, made themselves known through the fabric of the t-shirt you’d stolen from him. Draped in him but smelling like you.

Blackcurrant, orange blossoms, vanilla.

He leaned down, mouth now hovering beside your ear. The heat of his breath on your neck was maddening, but it was the way his lips brushed against your ear that proved fatal. When he spoke, it echoed in every one of your bones. A whisper heavy enough to bruise. “Get up.”

You followed the lead of his hand over your mouth and rose to your feet. Sharply, he redirected your gaze to the seat you’d just left. It was inexplicable how something so faint could be so blatant. That nearly imperceptible spot, snitching on you; showing him how your body begged for him.

“Such a messy girl, ruining my chair like that.” He tutted. “I should punish you, shouldn’t I? Should I ruin you, baby?”

Held so still, your knees still trembled. Without his hand gripping your cheeks, you would’ve crumpled at his feet. Before you could do so yourself, he forced you downward. After all, your knees couldn’t buckle if they were digging into the hardwood.

He released his grasp and used that same hand to push his hair away from his eyes. Your heart raced as if you were sprinting, and yet you were frozen in place. You didn’t know where to begin because you wanted everything.

Your indecision prompted him to roll his eyes. “Do I have to do everything for you? Say it. What do you want?”

“T-to touch you. Please,” you begged, “I want to feel you in my throat.”

He beckoned you silently with a curl of his finger. You sat up further on your knees and reached out tentatively for the drawstring tied at the waistband of his joggers.

“Stop.” He ordered, and you did. Looking down at your wide eyes, his smirk deepened. Your hands fidgeted uselessly in your lap as he began untying the drawstring himself – his slow pace was torturous. You'd have ripped them off his body if given the chance. “Open your mouth”

Again, you did as you were told.

It took everything you had not to drool when he lowered the waistband of his joggers just enough for his cock to spring out. Already throbbing, beige tip glistening with pre-cum in the half-light. He took himself in his hand and began to pump himself as he took a step towards your waiting mouth.

"Stick out your tongue."

Now, you couldn’t help it – and when he saw the string of saliva spilling from the tip of your tongue, he growled.

“Fuck,” He breathed, sliding the fingers of his free hand into your hair and tugging. “Look at how badly you want to be used - you're begging without saying a word.”

You couldn’t speak, but your eyes were screaming at him. Please.

Teasingly, he tapped the tip of his cock against your tongue, hissing as he felt the wet heat of your mouth. But when you went to close your lips around him, he pulled your hair – and you – away.

“Spit on it – slowly. Keep your eyes on me.”

You felt a twinge between your thighs as he delivered his orders. You’d undoubtedly soaked through your little sleep shorts already, but his tone just then made a mess of you. You squirmed as you kneeled, feeling the rivulets of slick begin to trail down the innermost part of your thighs. And he hadn’t even touched you yet.

Looking up at him from under the curtain of your lashes, you saw the wicked fascination flicker in his eyes. The way his breath hitched as he watched your spit fall from the ledge of your lips until it connected with his shaft. In your peripheral vision, you could see his cock twitch at the contact.

“Now open.” Finally.

A low moan broke from the depths of his chest as he slid into your mouth, and you couldn’t recall a more beautiful sound. As you pushed yourself further onto him, you hallowed your cheeks, following the vein running along the underside of his length with your tongue.

You stared up at him through wet eyes. So full, you pleaded with yourself not to gag, to breathe steadily through your nose. Tip pushing past your soft palate, he grunted as he bottomed out. Without softening his gaze, he watched for your reaction – always so concerned, even when he was pretending not to be. To his surprise, you swallowed, allowing the tightness of your throat to squeeze him.

“You’re fucking filthy.” He muttered with his eyes screwing shut. His jaw fell open when you slid off him, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock once you reached it. His eyes followed suit, blown out pupils fixated on the spit dribbling down your chin; darkening at the obscene sound of him sliding through the suction you'd so masterfully generated.

Pulling your hand from your lap, you reached out slowly for his balls. As your fingers massaged him, his grip on your hair got tighter. Almost imperceptibly, he began to roll his hips against your mouth.

His panting was interlaced with curses as he fucked himself into your warmth. “Fit so fucking perfectly in your throat,” He grunted, “Like you were made to be my toy.”

It startled you when he suddenly removed himself from you. Thoughtlessly, you whined – and then, immediately, you froze. Eyes darting back up to him, the anticipation of consequences prevented you from closing your mouth fully. You waited there on your knees, trembling, while your mascara pooled uselessly in the wells beneath your eyes.

“Somebody feels entitled,” He scoffed as he glowered down at you. “You better be careful what you wish for.”

Before you could process the speed of his movements, his arms hooked under yours and pulled you from the ground. Your legs ached, but as he loomed over you, you followed his unspoken order, backing yourself into a corner. With your shoulder blades pressed flush against the wall, he stepped forward and used his knee to push your legs apart.

For a moment, it seemed like his façade was cast aside. He raised his hand slowly to caress your cheek, swirling soft circles into your flushed skin with his thumb. Out of habit, your eyes drifted shut and you leaned further into his touch. And when he leaned in, just as slowly, your slightly parted lips waited for a kiss that never came.

“You’re just begging to be filled, aren’t you?” He asked in a whisper so sharp it stung. “Not loved but fucked.”

You nodded shyly. “Y-yes,” You stuttered, “Please.”

His lips still lingered closely enough to touch yours, to send shockwaves shooting down your spine, but he continued to withhold his affection. This was the first time – ever – that Yoongi had turned down an opportunity to kiss you. Until now, he didn't seem capable of doing so.

“Please what?”

“Fuck me. Please -” You keened as his hand began to drift from your cheek, down your neck. In the blink of an eye, every word you knew disappeared from your vocabulary. The tip of his index finger trailed down over the fabric of your stolen shirt, between the valley of your breasts, and came to rest at the hem.

He pinched the seam between his fingers and tugged. “Part of me wants to tear this off you,” He mused with his head tilting to one side. His eyes remained locked on yours; the amusement in them was clear, even in the darkness. “But most of me wants to see you fucked out and stupid - in my shirt.”

Your legs threatened to give out yet again. He was devastatingly handsome under normal circumstances, but this newly unearthed cockiness was ruinous. You bit down hard on your lip as he raised your shirt enough to access the waistband of your shorts. With his help, you shimmied them down until they dropped quietly at your feet. Quickly and clumsily, you stepped out of them and kicked them aside.

Yoongi’s hand rose again to your face. His middle and ring finger were extended; the others curled down towards his palm. You didn’t need to be asked to open your mouth – it was the only response your eager mind could conjure. His fingers were cool against your tongue as you closed your mouth around them. And when he was satisfied with the lubrication you’d provided, he slid his fingers out from your hollowed cheeks with a lewd pop.

“How badly do you want to come all over my fingers?”

It’s a wonder there wasn’t a puddle beneath you, considering how those words made you gush. “I need it,” You pleaded with fluttering eyelids and bated breath, “Please touch me.”

You whimpered and closed your eyes as you felt his fingers dive into the pool between your thighs. Every nerve lit up like a switchboard as he slipped through your soft folds. He scoffed at how wet you were – so soaked that it was audible in each millimeter of his movement.

Simultaneous to his middle finger penetrating you, your head rolled back until it rested against the wall. Your mouth fell open, but you were too entranced to do much more than breathe as you acclimated to his presence inside you. He started slowly, curling his finger upwards as he pushed further inwards. Even at this pace, the otherwise dead air was filled with the sound of your sodden cunt.

“You’re dripping already?" He let the tip of his finger rest against the spongy spot behind your pubic bone; the pressure was incredible, but he stayed torturously still. “And yet you’re so - tight.” Achingly slow, the pad of his finger spiraled against your g-spot. “I’ll have to stretch you out before I can bury my cock in you.”

As his ring finger plunged inside of you, you cried out, head slumping forward against his shoulder. Sensing that you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up for much longer, Yoongi grabbed the back of your right thigh with his left hand and pulled your leg up to rest against his hip. With this new angle, his fingers ventured even deeper until they bottomed out at the knuckle. He didn’t give you much time to adjust to the new sensation.

As he fucked his fingers into you at a feverish pace, he continued his mind-numbing assault on your g-spot. Over and over, he toyed with you; thrusting, stretching, scissoring, and teasing as your arousal trickled into the palm of his hand. There was an intoxicating – unbearable – warmth burning in the pit of your abdomen. A sensation so all-consuming that your eyes rolled back in your head.

Your walls clenched around him, sucking him in and begging for more as your helpless heart raced. “Oh my god,” You wailed, “Holy shit – Please, I’m - Yoongi!”

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Never in your life had you fallen apart like that – shaking and speaking in tongues. Having sensed the swell of pressure, Yoongi knew exactly where this road headed; and he could tell that you were fighting it. “Don't hold back from me,” He growled.

And then the dam broke.

A wicked grin danced across his face as the wave of pleasure crashed onto the floor below you. “Fuck. Look at this.” He pointed downward and your bleary gaze followed. Remnants of your orgasm had splashed onto his joggers as well as the hardwood. “Nobody could ever make you come like I can. Say it.”

The words bubbled out of your chest, half-way between a sob and a moan. “Nobody can make me come like you.”

You were a shivering, spilling mess; and your ears were still ringing from how intensely your every muscle had clenched. Before your knee could buckle, you were abruptly swept up into his arms. With one arm wrapped tightly around your back, his free hand slid over the surface of his desk, sending various papers and cords rocketing towards the floor.

Once the space was cleared, he set you down and laid you out onto the cool surface. You were exhausted and thankful to be horizontal; though you knew he wasn’t yet finished with you.

After all, he intended on ruining you.

Through half-lidded eyes, you gazed up at him. The hair he’d so neatly tied into a bun at the top of his head had mutinied; inky tendrils were now splayed out haphazardly in different directions. You were fuck-drunk, but you swore the overhead light behind him encircled his head like a halo. It was all so unholy - the way he stood before the altar of your exposed core, with his face angelic and his throbbing cock in hand.

The hand not pumping his cock slid over your bent knee. It took tremendous effort, but you lifted your arm to place your hand on top of his. One tiny squeeze – a brief, loving check-in – received an echo. Then, just as quickly as it appeared, the fleeting moment of tenderness was gone. With each of your legs now trapped in his hold, he pulled you towards the very edge of the table.

Once he was satisfied with your closeness, his focus switched to his access. He simply wasn’t content to leave your legs bent up at either side of him; so, he rested the backs of your legs against his shoulders and leaned forward until you’d nearly folded in half.

He didn’t need to use his hand to center himself prior to entering you. His body understood the proportions of yours automatically; like you were puzzle pieces created to fit perfectly together. Though his intention may have been to penetrate you slowly, centimeter by centimeter, your slick was overwhelming. The usual ache you felt upon acclimating to his size was drastically reduced; and he bottomed out quickly, cursing.

The fullness you felt was euphoric, and it left you mewling hopelessly under the weight of his body. He was buried deep, throbbing as your walls constricted around his width. It shocked your system when he slid out almost completely only to drive himself back into you.

“Like a fucking vice grip,” Yoongi hissed as he picked up his already brutal pace. Every curve, every vein dragged maddeningly along your walls as he fucked you. “Do you hear how wet you are? Shit – your pussy is begging for me.”

The only thing louder than the squelch of your cunt was skin hitting skin; close behind was the way your name spilled from his lips in a flurry of expletives. You, on the other hand, were nearly incoherent. With every thrust, he knocked another thought loose until eventually, you had nothing left. Relentlessly, his cock grinded against your g-spot, leaving you too mesmerized to recall your own name.

There was a sheen of sweat above his knitted brows; and his bottom lip was now trapped between his gritted teeth. He was close and you knew it. The depth of his thrusts didn’t falter, but his steady pace was getting harder for him to maintain. You felt the rubber band inside you beginning to fray - on the brink of snapping and shooting you into orbit like a sling-shot.

“Baby,” The soft, shaky voice caught his attention. He opened his eyes and focused hard on you – your flushed cheeks, and trembling lips. As he surveyed you, his resolve began to evaporate; his expression softened immediately. There he was: your Yoongi. “You’re gonna make me come again.”

As your walls clenched tight around him, the edges of your vision began to blur. You watched his face as he came shortly after you, studying how delicately his eyelashes fluttered as the warmth of his release filled you. In that moment, it was the two of you, toppling in slow-motion off the edge of the universe. Irrevocably in love - heaving chests, shuddered moans, names whispered in the place of prayers.

He shifted his arms to allow your quivering legs to fall from his shoulders. When the hands on either side of your head could no longer hold up his weight, he collapsed onto you. With his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, you could feel his breathing begin to slow as his cock softened inside you.

You were nearly delirious when you felt his lips buzz against your skin. You were too far gone to understand what he was too exhausted to communicate. “Hmm?” You hummed, wordlessly asking him to repeat himself.

He groaned with the effort of pulling himself away from your embrace. He only traveled far enough to glance over at you. “I said, I think several of my past lives just flashed before my eyes,” He stated matter-of-factly. Within seconds, his eyes crinkled up at the corners and his grin grew. That soft chuckle wasn’t far behind.

“I don’t know where I am.” You admitted with a sheepish laugh. After a moment, you amended that thought, “I don’t know who I am.”

Yoongi placed a gentle kiss below your ear – the only part of you he could reach without sitting up fully. “I have no idea. How did you get in my house?” As you rolled your eyes, he bumped the tip of his nose against your jaw, too tired to tease you much more than that. “But now that we’re both completely spent, I’d like to go back to being soft with you – for now.”

He tried to wink at you, but both of his lead-lined lids closed in unison. You hummed thoughtfully as you ran lazy fingers through his hair, like the decision required serious deliberation. You paused, then giggled. “Permission granted, my love. You may proceed.”

He was quiet for several moments before he stood bolt upright. Startled, you propped yourself up on your elbow and looked to him. He turned towards the booth and then back to you.

His eyes were wide as a blush swept over his cheeks. "Aegiya, did you forget to stop the recording?"

Sequel (posted 12/11/22).

4K notes · View notes

twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 6 months

Text

i can’t close my eyes alone ; satoru gojo

synopsis; arguing with satoru is always exhausting. bitter and spiteful, you leave him in the bedroom and go find another place to sleep; your couch would be the obvious choice, but where’s the fun in that?

word count; 4.2k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, f!reader (he calls you ’stubborn girl’ n ’pretty girl’ but other than that it’s gn!!), toru and reader have a fight, reader sleeps in the bathtub (don’t ask it came to me in a vision), hurt/comfort, he's doing his best :<, fluff!!

a/n; smth abt …. arguing w satoru gojo ……. idk why the concept has possessed me in the way that it has i just think hurt/comfort w toru is <33

okay, so maybe this wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had.

in your defense, you weren’t exactly thinking straight; fueled by spite, eager to get far away, and admittedly a little curious as to how it would feel, the decision was made almost purely on impulse. and stupidity, probably.

it’s not comfortable at all.

maybe it could be. maybe if you had just a couple more pillows, a fluffier blanket with a cozier texture. maybe if you had something soft to put beneath you, another blanket or a comforter or — whatever. maybe if you had a warm cup of tea to drink. maybe if you had something warm to hug to sleep.

or someone.

(aw, what’s wrong? can’t sleep without me after all, huh?)

— nope. you are not going back there.

just the thought of how smug he’d get makes you bite the inside of your cheek, increasing your already growing frustrations. in desperate search of a more comfortable position, you nuzzle further into the pillow, but nothing works.

your limbs feel stiff, and your bones can’t seem to relax, a discomforting numbness seeping into your spine. and it’s cold. the feeling of porcelain against your skin keeps you tossing and turning, akin to an icy winter breeze, caressing the apple of your cheek.

still, there’s simply no other option. under absolutely no circumstances can you turn back now. not when you’ve come this far, when you can almost begin to sense an inkling of sleep’s familiar call, the drowsy flutter of your eyelashes.

it takes time, and perseverance — but eventually, the road to sleep does seem to brighten on the horizon. crawling closer and closer, lulling you into its embrace, while all you can do is lie there. completely at its mercy, exhaustion ghosting your subconscious, eyelids ripe with fatigue.

slowly but surely, your consciousness begins to fade. tenderly, soothingly, like a curtain over your eyes being slowly unveiled. you can almost taste it, on the tip of your tongue; sleep is only a moment away.

soon, you’ll fall into that cozy abyss. and then you’ll open your eyes, and the morning sun will greet you. it’ll be a new day, a better day.

so you keep your eyes closed, and sink a little further into the plush of your pillow, and —

the light flickers on.

in the state you’re in, tiptoeing on the edge between dreams and reality, so tantalizingly close to falling asleep, the brightness is positively grating. even through your shut eyes, it invades your senses — a glow so irritating it’s startling. the bathroom lights mock you with their shine, illuminating your figure, curled up in the tiny bathtub.

the whine you let out is involuntary, coaxed out from deep within your throat, as the uncomfortable sensation rouses you from your would-be slumber.

satoru raises an unimpressed eyebrow, where he stands by the door.

chest bare, wearing only a flimsy pair of sleeping shorts, he looks at you with tired eyes. exasperation painted onto his dishevelled features. then he clicks his tongue, voice raspy and rich with fatigue.

”you’re ridiculous.”

the judgemental tilt of his voice only makes the annoyance in your veins bubble up once more, just when it was finally about to dwindle. eyes squeezed shut to escape the burn of the artificial light, you let out a sharp wince, burrowing your face deeper into the pillow.

”turn it off!”

ignoring your angry plea, satoru makes his way over to you. with long, slow strides, vaguely uncoordinated steps. just a little clumsy. he plops down on the edge of the bathtub, and gazes down at you.

you’re lying on your side, arms wrapped around a fluffy cushion, knees against your chest. under the illumination of the bathroom lights, he can see you clearly; messy hair that he yearns to ruffle, a crease between your brows that he yearns to smooth away.

you look awfully uncomfortable, to no one’s surprise. he isn’t sure what else you were expecting.

despite the sting of the bright lights, you force your eyes open — only to give satoru a halfhearted glare, an attempt at appearing intimidating. though you somehow doubt it’ll work.

resting his jaw on the heel of his palm, satoru tilts his head. soft locks of white hair follow the movement, falling over his eyes, a little more tousled than usual. like he’s been tossing and turning, sprawled out on the bedroom mattress.

and, just like you suspected, the dirty look you send his way doesn’t seem to scare him off. not even in the slightest. if anything, you think you catch a flicker of lazy amusement dancing through his eyes. and it irks you, it does — an itch beneath your skin, a taste of irritation on your tongue.

because satoru is looking at you like you’re somehow in the wrong, here, like you’re the one acting out. as if he isn’t the reason you’re here in the first place.

at this point, you barely even remember what the fight was about. too sleep-deprived to recall it properly, too stressed to make a genuine attempt. all you remember is getting ready for bed, and the familiar sensation of frustration prickling your skin. you remember his pretty little grin, his teasing remarks and refusal to take you seriously.

remember the way he laughed, when you told him what was bothering you; the crinkle of his eyes, the warmth of his hands reaching over to squish your cheeks. a little patronizing.

(there was no malicious intent behind it, that much you know. he probably just wanted to lighten the mood. but it irked you, all the same. hurt you, maybe. just a little bit.)

then you remember storming out. grabbing a blanket and pillow and telling him to sleep on his own, if that’s how he was going to be. the words felt cold as they left your mouth, little breathy icicles. and then you left.

which is why you’re here, right now. curled up in your goddamn bathtub, for some reason that still escapes you, trying desperately to get even a wink of sleep without your boyfriend there to help.

and that’s also why satoru is here, back a tad slouched as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, looking at you like you’re some misbehaving cat. blinking slowly, drowsily, dragged down by the fatigue clinging to his eyelashes.

(he can’t sleep, either.)

”you’re really gonna sleep in there?” he sighs, after a moment’s pause. any honest concern in his voice is almost entirely overshadowed by the sense of admonition that follows it.

a scoff falls from your lips, sharp like a razorblade. ”yes,” you deadpan, shifting to lie on your stomach, hiding away from his insistent view. ”i was sleeping just fine before you barged in here.”

satoru shoots you a look, thoroughly unimpressed, entirely unconvinced of your blatant lie. ”you’re being dumb,” he huffs. ”at least sleep on the couch.”

”i don’t wanna hear that from you,” comes a hiss, low and disgruntled. a growing irritation. ”and i’m comfortable where i am.”

another dissatisfied huff. why are you being so irrational? he just doesn’t get it. scrambling for excuses, satoru tries his hand at another tactic.

”you’ll hurt your back.”

another little scoff. oh, so now he suddenly cares? you can’t believe him.

”so what?”

a moment passes. satoru bites his lip, teeth sinking softly into the flesh; a little pang of ache, but it’s nothing compared to the twist of discomfort in his chest. you’re making this more difficult than it has to be, he thinks. always so stubborn.

what is he supposed to say? how is he supposed to convince you to come back to bed, when you’re already so set on denying him?

god, he’s tired. he just wants to sleep, close his jaded eyes. just wants to not have to think, for a couple hours, curled up with the only person who makes him feel safe. just wants to dream in soft shapes.

but if you aren’t there, then…

a deep sigh. weary, annoyed. ”c’mon,” he coaxes, blinking sluggishly. ”you know you won’t be able to fall asleep without me. can’t we just make up already?”

your nails dig into the fabric of your blanket. every word he says only seems to deepen the sense of irritation plaguing your sleep-deprived mind.

it makes you want to shut him out, bury your head in the soft sheets and forget about everything else. he keeps acting like you’re just overreacting, like you wanted to have an argument. like he wasn’t the one who made you upset and then laughed at you about it.

”i don’t need you to fall asleep,” you grumble, muffled by the pillow in your grasp, arms tightening around it. nuzzling deeper into the soft velvet comfort.

satoru’s fingers twitch, as if urging him to pull you close. he almost glares at the cushion in your arms, that you’re hugging so fondly, putting all your body weight on — snuggling into it in search of comfort and warmth.

(that should be his chest.)

the gears in his head turn, slowly and mechanically, as he brings a hand up to card through his hair.

satoru hates seeing you so upset, so far away from him. having to watch you close yourself off, not allowing him to be near, soothe you and take care of you. kiss all your worries away. that’s all he wants to do, everything he needs to keep himself whole, to keep himself from being devoured by an exhaustion he’s lived with for as long as he can remember.

a strong frustration gnaws at his conscience. a certain desperation.

a big, heavy sigh leaves his lips. it bounces off the walls of the bathroom, the white tiles and shiny mirror, as he drags it out. almost childishly. then he’s angling his body to face you properly, big hands resting on his knees, a determined gaze set on your figure.

”look, i’m sorry,” he starts, rigid and earnest. blinking once, twice, chasing away the drowsy weight of his eyelids. ”i shouldn’t have laughed.”

your ears perk up.

shifting to your side as if hoping to hear him better, you peek up at him through half-lidded eyes. almost in disbelief, a kind of hope sprouting in the corners of your dilated pupils.

is he genuinely going to apologize, you wonder? admit that he was in the wrong? does he actually feel bad?

a moment passes. slow, drawn out, until satoru’s voice spills into the air again.

”there. i apologized,” he exhales, a little gruff. annoyed. ”now will you please just come to bed?”

…

wow.

okay, nevermind. you hope the ceiling fan falls on him.

beneath your skin, a mellow kind of anger bubbles up, blood slowly coming to a boiling point. he’s not sorry at all. of course he isn’t. you were stupid to think he’d actually give you a sincere apology, stupid to think he’d do the one thing that would actually make you want to fall back into his comforting embrace. stupid, stupid.

clenching your teeth, nails digging into the velvet fabric of the pillow, your eyelids flutter shut once more. only this time, you don’t plan on opening them again — at least not until morning comes. not until you see the sunkissed tiles of the bathroom, until the ache inside your chest has passed.

”satoru,” you enunciate, frigid and final. ”just let me sleep. we can talk tomorrow.” a beat. the tiniest grumble resounds from your lips, tinged with exhaustion. ”i’m too tired for this.”

under his breath, satoru winces. that palpable fatigue in your words sends a tremor running through his chest, discomforting, a shiver of his heart. you won’t look at him anymore, and the hint of finality in your tone makes him feel slightly dejected.

god, he’s awful at this. sincerity has never been his strong suit. he’s gotten better, lately, but it’s still so very foreign.

he didn’t mean to make you angry, didn’t mean to upset you. didn’t mean for the lilt of his voice to make his apology sound insincere. but that’s still what happened.

and satoru isn’t quite sure what to do.

he’s tired. eyes heavy with lost sleep, glimpses of would-be nightmares he knows he’d have were he to fall asleep right now. an anxious lump has long since formed in the back of his throat, and he misses you. misses your presence, your warmth. misses the feeling of having you close, the knowledge that you haven’t left yet.

(without you, he can’t —)

a sigh. soft, and resigned, flowing from his lips.

the inner turmoil in satoru’s mind begins to fade, slowly but surely, smoothed away by the sight of you. bundled up in a blanket too small to cover you properly, lying in that cold and cramped bathtub, discomfort evident in your features. sadness dripping from the bitter words you grace him with.

so out of reach, too far for him to follow, a boundary he wants to cross more than anything. but something about that meek expression makes him falter, makes his heart twist and turn inside his ribcage.

(he knows that you’re tired, too.)

so satoru swallows his pride.

the words are spoken in a whisper, hushed, through a voice so low you wouldn’t hear it if the silence of the bathroom wasn’t so suffocating. a soft lilt of his voice, bare and raw. meek, in a way that makes him want to crawl under a rock and die. but it’s there, and he lets you hear it; that soft little truth.

”… i can’t sleep without you.”

satoru doesn’t look at you. his confession rings in your ears, laced together with a softness you’ve come to associate with warm spring mornings and rooms so dark you can’t see his face. moments in which satoru feels safe. safe enough to be sincere.

— inevitably, your heart begins to soften.

(he’s trying. it’s difficult for him, but he’s really trying. sincerity and honesty are things that have been used against him all his life, so it’s no wonder he’d be scared.)

it’s very hard to stay mad at him, when he sounds like that. when his words come out sounding a little too much like a plea, a silent call for help.

with hesitance, you allow your eyes to flutter open, shifting a little to get a better look at him. he’s there, staring into space — the man you’ve grown to love so dearly. his tousled white hair, those slightly forlorn eyes. the vague darkness beneath them, slightly puffy skin. that tired, tired expression.

satoru taps the edge of the tub with the pads of his fingers, absentmindedly. index finger, middle finger, ring finger, over and over.

then, at last, he meets your gaze. and you think he swallows down a gulp, before smiling — it’s a pretty smile, somewhat tiny. a little sheepish, but awfully sincere. awfully satoru.

he tilts his head, gazing into your eyes with a tenderness that melts your heart to the marrow.

”… please?”

a second passes. then two.

soft and melodic, your heartbeat resounds in your ears, akin to a lullaby. like the call of a siren, coaxing you into giving in. and you’re weak, you realize, so very weak. just a smile and a tilt of his head, and you’re rendered utterly helpless.

(he’s just too pretty.)

without fully realizing it yourself, you’ve begun to move, dragging yourself up with sluggish motions. blanket still draped over your shoulders, and pillow snug against your chest, you blink. drowsily, slowly. a little meekly.

and satoru brightens.

it’s visible, in the way he physically perks up, back straightening, smile finally reaching his aquamarine eyes. a blend between hope and affection sprouts in them, slathered over with something honeyed.

a soft grin blooms on his lips, and he opens his arms wide — silently beckoning you to fall into his embrace. a raspy coo tiptoes on his tongue.

”c’mere.”

before you can make a move to do so, satoru leans over. scooping you up with ease, as if you weigh absolutely nothing, tucking you into his warm embrace. smothering you in his cushiony chest.

almost instinctively, your arms go to wrap around his neck, cheek smushed against the warm skin of his shoulder. if you strain your ears, you think you can hear the soft patter of his heartbeat. he smells of the tiramisu you ate before going to bed, and just a hint of expensive cologne. he smells of comfort.

satoru is soft, and warm, and everything you need right now. lulling you back into that cozy, sleepy state. your very own personal dose of melanin.

with a big palm on the small of your back, satoru keeps you pressed up against his chest, as if you could change your mind and try to escape at any moment. he stands up, still holding you, and hikes your legs around his waist. breathing out a satisfied hum, before turning on his heel.

satoru smiles, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. ”let’s get you back to bed, baby.”

after turning the bathroom lights off, he begins to walk to your shared bedroom, still carrying you with one arm. always so strong and reliable. you know for a fact that he’s not going to drop you, so you opt to close your tired eyes; stretching out your limbs, lazily, releasing a quiet yawn that makes his lips curl up.

despite your lingering frustration, you find yourself nuzzling into the crook of his neck — and satoru coos, so painfully soft that you barely even hear it. the restlessness inside his own chest washed away, by the familairity of your body against his.

and before you know it, he’s dropped you down on the mattress. gently, but still enough to make you feel a little jostled, so close to falling asleep in his arms. he drags the blanket up to cover you, tucking you in; this one is bigger, with a fluffier texture, enough to cover you both with ease.

smiling softly at the sight of you all cozy, content in the knowledge that you’re finally comfortable, satoru crawls beneath the blanket and takes his rightful place beside you. eyes crinkled at the corners, rich with affection.

two strong arms reach around your waist, to pull you flush against him, until your head meets his chest and you can hear the soft thrumming of his heartstrings. then he sighs, in pure bliss, thoroughly content. melting into your embrace, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head, nuzzling into the warmth that seeps from your body to his.

he runs his big hands down your back, affectionately, rubbing circles into your skin. coaxing you into melting a little, too.

”see, isn’t this much better?” he smiles, a little cheeky. such a tease.

”… the bathtub was fine.”

a chuckle rumbles through his chest, rich with fondness. his hand goes to card through your hair, nimble fingers smoothing down your scalp and running through the soft strands. every touch gentle, full of care. every word soaked in a syrupy sweetness.

”stubborn girl.”

despite your best wishes, you’re too tired to bite back the blissful sigh that leaves your lips. a part of you still wants to protest, to push him away —

but then you start leaning into his touch. helpless to his warm hands, his soothing voice. satoru is just a little too good at making you melt. so good that you finally begin to let your guard down, nuzzling into his bare skin, sinking a little further into the mattress.

and satoru stifles a coo.

”honestly,” he sighs, equal parts exasperated and amused. ”sleeping in the bathtub… you’re so silly.”

before you have a chance to respond, he’s pulling back — ever so slightly, just to get a better look at your face. arms looped around his neck, you blink up at him with droopy eyes, and he can’t resist the dopey grin that sneaks its way onto his lips. doesn’t even begin to try, when you look so unbearably sweet.

unable to stop himself, he broaches the distance between you, leaning close to kiss the top of your nose. and you squeeze your eyes shut at the gesture, face scrunching up, but it only makes him chuckle. smiling, honey-sweet, he admires your sleepy pout. soaks up every soft little grumble that slips from your lips.

his hand comes to cradle your cheek, thumb smoothing down your cheekbone. just gazing at you, taking you in, every single contour of your face. there is only adoration in his eyes. something silently delighted, that seeps into his words, his raspy voice.

”my pretty, pretty girl.”

a heat rushes to your cheeks. looking up at him, into those lovesick eyes, you can’t help but grow flustered.

he looks so content.

all you manage is a weak furrow of your brows, pressing a palm against his bare skin. softly, as if pushing him away, forehead meeting his chest with a soft bonk. hiding away, so he won’t see how much his words affect you.

”lemme sleep, toru…” you mumble, stifling a yawn.

unfortunately, your boyfriend is not one to give in so easily. before long, his fingertips are trailing across the skin of your jaw, coaxing you into lifting your chin. and you’re too sleepy to resist — practically melting, as he begins to smear openmouthed kisses all over your face. all you can do is close your eyes, attempting to ignore the sound of his exaggerated mwahs, frowning in a silent disapproval that you know you don’t actually mean.

satoru notices it, though. he always does.

”you still mad at me, baby?” he asks, in a way that sounds a little like he’s cooing at you. there’s a teasing tilt to his voice, but it’s also a genuine question. your frown deepens.

averting your gaze with a soft huff, even as he cradles your jaw with his slender fingers, a pout plays at your lips. under his kind eyes, you feel just a bit meek — recalling your argument from before. absentmindedly, you fidget with the waistband of his shorts, hoping to ease your nerves.

despite your valiant efforts to direct your vocal cords in a different direction, the voice that spills from your lips comes out sounding just a tad hurt.

”… you never take me seriously.”

satoru’s eyes soften.

his smile falters, by a hair, a brief stilling of movement. subtle, but hard not to pick up on. there’s a certain sense of shame in his irises, a genuine guilt stirring his heartstrings; several discomforting sensations, gnawing at the bones of his ribcage.

(you look so small.)

two hands reach out to cup your cheeks, big and warm. swallowing up your whole face. and before you can react, satoru leans in to press a sweet, chaste kiss against your lips. he tastes like tiramisu.

”’m sorry. we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?” he hums, and you can tell that he means it. ”i promise that i’ll take you seriously. for real, this time.”

as you look into those eyes of his, blue and soft around the edges, the last of your frustration is finally washed away. with a meek downward glance, and a faint nod, satoru relaxes — releasing a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. relieved at your silent forgiveness.

tomorrow, he’ll definitely make it up to you. he’ll hear you out, without opening his big mouth, or trying to skirt around any emotions that make him feel even slightly uncomfortable. smoothing a big palm down your back, he hopes you feel it as a silent apology.

for now, he’ll just hold you. he’ll hold you, and kiss all your worries away, and keep you comfy and warm. that’s his duty. the only one he’d willingly choose, the only weight on his shoulders that never feels even a little bit suffocating. the only one he wouldn’t cast away, if given the chance.

nuzzling back into the safety of his collarbone, your heartbeat settles into a drowsy rhythm, slow and serene. satoru squeezes you in a tight hug, reassuring. comforting.

he can be a handful, and a little insensitive, but you love him a lot. you can’t imagine not loving him.

”… goodnight, toru,” you whisper. ready to give into sleep’s call, at last.

satoru smiles. you can hear it in his voice, sweet and silky, a soft curl of his lips. ”goodnight, honey,” he presses a kiss against your shoulder. warm, his breath on your skin. ”i love you.”

a yawn escapes your throat. ”love you too…” you mumble, sleepily. that one soft truth, before your consciousness fades.

and satoru’s smile only grows. hopelessly, inevitably, in the same way his hands can’t help but to bring you closer. until your heart is flush against his own, and he swears he can feel your heartbeats synchronize.

finally, with those three little words, satoru should be able to go to sleep. drifting off, he can only hope you’ll still be in his arms by the time he awakens.

(then again; you always are, aren’t you?)

#im not arguing w satoru gojo lol . whatever u say princess ! <3 #this is an old piece that i polished a lil (lot) phshdh so the writing might not b anything special but !! i kinda like this toru .#just sleep-deprived n grumpy <33 #gojo has this duality where he can be silly n goofy but then also serious when he needs to be… n kinda gruff….#but then he also has this. Sincere Tenderness to him. that i think would bleed through w someone he loves #hhhhh i love this man w all my heart T_T #usually i make all my fics gn but. smth abt satoru gojo …. callling u his pretty girl………… yeah. sorry. for being this way #me personally i would fold immediately but i respect reader for trying #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you

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americasass91 · 5 months

Text

Use Me

Hello there! I know I’ve been M.I.A. for awhile. And literally haven’t written anything in like 8 months. I’ve been going through a shit ton. (Divorce, job change, all kinds of fun stuff) And I really lost my spark to write. And then the Fnaf movie came out. And seeing Josh Hutcherson on screen again lit a fire inside of me! That boy was my original crush (long before Evans). Peeta Mellark will forever have a piece of my heart. That being said, here’s a little something starring Mike Schmidt! I know, I know. It’s not a Chris Evans character? What’s wrong with me? Josh is fucking pretty. That’s what’s wrong with me. Like, I have a problem. Don’t get me wrong, I still think Chris is pretty and hope the best for him. But…he’s not been my muse lately. I said a long time ago that I wanted Josh to fuck me like a screen door in a hurricane. And it apparently still holds true today! So, I hope you enjoy it even though this is not a part of your regularly scheduled programming! Also, this takes place after the events of FNAF. Also, Also. Not sure if the people on my Taglist for Chris’ characters want to be tagged in Josh’s. If so, just let me know!

*DISCLAIMER*, If you’re under 18, this is nothing for you to be reading. Go away.

Words: 3.3k

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, p in v smut, oral(f rec), unprotected sex, language, Mike being good, um I think that’s it

💙💙💙💙💙

“Listen Y/N, I’m gonna need you to stay and work the next shift.”

You turn around and look at your manager as if she had suddenly grown 3 heads. “Excuse me? I don’t think I heard you right. It sounded like you said you needed me to stay and work the next 8 hour shift.”

She rolls her eyes as she goes back to charting the current patient she’s working on. “You know that’s exactly what I said. Look, I have no other options. Hannah called off.”

“Again? This is like the third day in a row! How is that fair exactly?” You put your patient’s paperwork down and cross your arms over your chest as you stare at her expectantly.

She doesn’t even bother looking at you as she answers. “I don’t know what to tell you Y/N. She says she’s sick. I can’t have her come in if she’s sick.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “If by sick you mean hungover! She literally posted on Instagram last night about her night out on the town!”

She glances over at you. “There’s no way to prove if that was from last night or if it's older. Now just get back to work and I’ll let you have an hour and a half break instead of an hour.”

Now you’re pissed. “Yeah, see, that's not going to work for me. I’ve already been here for 16 hours because Kim was late. I’m not working Hannah’s whole ass shift. I have plans. I finally get to see my boyfriend after weeks because our schedules weren’t lining up. I’m not staying.”

“You really don’t have a choice. I wasn’t really asking you, I was telling you. There’s no one else to cover.”

Tears started welling up in your eyes out of frustration, exhaustion, and the possibility of not being able to see Mike again. “There’s a bunch of other people that can cover! What about you? You’ve only been here 8 hours. It would make more sense for you to stay.”

She turns in her chair to look at you now. “Y/N, I have actual plans. My husband has a work party. And the rest of us have husbands and children to attend to. Not just ‘hanging out with my boyfriend.’

Now you’re seeing red. “So what you’re saying is because I’m the only nurse on this floor not married, I get the shitty end of the deal and have to cover when other people call off?”

“No. If you had legit plans then I’d be more sympathetic. But you haven’t even been with this boy that long. You don’t need to spend every free moment with him.”

“I’m sorry but who do you think you are? My mother? Because I’m a grown ass woman. And if I want to hang with my boyfriend on my time off then I’m going to! I don’t really need your approval for it. I’m not staying.”

You grab your Stanley and start heading towards the locker room to grab your stuff.

“Y/N! If you don’t stay, then you can forget about this job.”

You turn around just before reaching the end of the hallway. “Well, then I guess you’re going to have to stick around and cover Hannah’s shift. Stick it up your ass, Jan. I quit.”

You don’t even stay to hear what she has to say. You quickly run to your locker and grab all of your stuff out before you start to cry. You can’t believe you just quit. And it’s not just because of your boyfriend. You haven’t been treated right since the first week you started. This was just the last straw. You just hope Mike won’t be disappointed in you.

💙💙💙💙💙

After a quick shower and outfit change at home, you reluctantly find yourself pulling into Mike’s driveway and getting out of the car. You haven’t gotten to see him in about 3 weeks and you know you look like shit from not only your long ass shift but also because you cried on the way over.

You head to the front door and open it up. He always leaves the door unlocked when he knows you’re coming over, and get hit with the aroma of pasta. Mike’s cooking you dinner. That makes you want to start crying all over again. He’s the sweetest.

“Babe? Is that you?” You hear him call from the back of the house. He quickly comes towards the front and sees you. His smile falters when he sees the state you’re in. “Babe, are you okay? What happened?” He quickly wraps you up in a hug.

You try your best to keep it together but a few tears fall. “I quit today.”

He pulls out of the hug but keeps his arms around you. “You did? Babe, that’s fantastic!” He pulls you back in for another hug and picks you up to twirl you around.

Your mood instantly lifts and you can’t help but laugh. “It is?”

He sets you down and pulls you in for a quick kiss. “Of course it is! That place was treating you like shit! And Jan was a bitch! What finally made you do it?”

He lets go of all but your hand and leads you into the kitchen so he can continue making spaghetti. He sets you down at the table and pours you a nice big glass of wine he bought just for tonight. “I want to hear all about it.”

He goes back to the stove and continues making dinner while you rehash the last 16 hours.

He turns around with the sauce spoon in his hand and his other on his hip. “Hannah called off again? Jesus, how does she still have a job? Didn’t she do this to you last year during Christmas?”

Oh, shit. You had forgotten about that. She did do this last year! You had plans to fly home and see your family for the holidays when Hannah unexpectedly came down with ‘the flu’. Jan had called and needed you to work since nobody else could cover. You felt like since you were still new at the time that you couldn’t say no. Now you’re getting pissy all over again.

“Oh my god! You’re right! Maybe the bitch has some vendetta out against me. I’ve never done anything to her though! I’ve been nothing but nice!”

Just then your phone dings, alerting you of a text. You quickly check it. It’s from Hannah.

I can’t believe you threw a tantrum and quit just because I wasn’t feeling my best and couldn’t come in. Wow. All so you can hang out with your piece of shit delinquent boyfriend. You sure have your priorities straight.

“Fucking cunt!” You yell as you throw your phone across the table. Then immediately you slap your hands over your mouth just as Mike turns around to see what you’re yelling about.

“What’s wrong? Who was it?”

You remove your hands from your mouth. “Mike, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to curse that loud. I hope Abby didn’t hear me.”

He waves you off. “Babe, she’s not even here. She got invited to a sleepover at Natalie’s house. We’re alone. You’re good.”

You sigh in relief. “Thank god! I don’t want any of my bad habits to rub off on her.”

Mike just chuckles and turns back to the sauce. “If she turns out anything like you, I’d be entirely okay with that.”

You can’t help but feel a blush creep up your neck. He was always saying sweet stuff like that. You get up and hug him from behind and press a kiss to the back of his neck. “You’re too sweet.”

He turns around in your arms and grabs your face and gives you a proper, toe-curling kiss. “I mean it.”

After a few more shared kisses, Mike finishes up dinner and fixes you both a plate and a glass of wine for himself. As you’re sitting there twirling your spaghetti around your fork, you can’t help but think about Hannah’s text again. And then all of the little snide remarks she’s ever made to you come flooding back.

“Babe?”

You snap out of your thoughts and Mike comes back into focus. “Yeah?”

He puts his fork down. “I asked if there was something wrong with the spaghetti? You’ve hardly touched it.”

You look down at your plate and realize you’ve just been twirling it around your fork. “No, it’s fine. Just thinking about what Hannah said and how much it pisses me off. I’m sorry, I’m not meaning to ruin our time together.”

He smiles and grabs both of your plates and gets up and places them on the counter. He comes back over and holds his hand out to you. “Come on.”

You grab his hand with no hesitation and let him pull you out of your chair and let him lead you to his bedroom.

He turns around to face you right before you get to his bed. “First of all, you could never ruin our time together. I love getting to spend time with you no matter what. Second of all, it sounds like you need to let out some anger and need a distraction.”

You can’t help but feel all tingly at the smirk he’s giving you. “What did you have in mind?”

He backs up a little and sits on the bed and looks up at you. “Use me, Y/N.”

You shake your head. “What? What do you mean?”

He reaches out to grab your hands to pull you towards him. “I mean use me. Use me to distract yourself and to take your anger out on. I’ll be a good boy and do whatever you need.”

That almost had your knees buckling. “Oh.” He lifts your shirt up and starts pressing kisses along your stomach while running his hands from your back to your hips and down to your ass. You’ve never been in this position before. Sure, you guys have only been together for like 5 months but anytime you’ve ever been intimate, he’s been the one who’s taken charge.

He pulls back and looks up at you. “Use me, baby. I got you. Tell me what you need.”

You decide to run with it and take control and blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “I wanna sit on your face.”

He lets out a little whimper as he moves back on the bed. “Fuck, baby. Please sit on my face. I want you to suffocate me.”

He lays back and patiently waits for you to remove your pants and panties. You hesitantly climb up on the bed. You’ve never done this before with anyone but have always wanted to try it. You climb up until you’re straddling his waist and lean down to kiss him.

He returns the kiss enthusiastically and grinds you down onto him so you can feel how hard he already is for you. It makes you let out a small moan into his mouth. The making out only lasts for a few more minutes before you pull away and start climbing up until you’re hovering right above his mouth.

Before you fully lower yourself onto him you grab his hair and yank so that he has to look at you. He lets out another beautiful whimper. “I’m going to ride your face until I can’t think of anything else but your tongue. You’re going to be good and make me cum as many times as I want, right?”

He nods instantly. “Yes, I promise I’ll be good for you.”

“Good boy.” You tell him, which makes his eyes roll to the back of his head. Hmm. Who knew he had a praise kink?

You let go of his hair and grab onto the headboard with both hands before you slowly lower yourself onto his waiting mouth.

He immediately grips your thighs and pulls you even harder on him and starts eating you out like a man starved. “Oh, fuck!” You throw your head back and start grinding on his tongue. He gives you a few more licks before he sucks your clit into his mouth and starts lapping his tongue back and forth against it. “Oh, god. Fuck, Mike! You’re so fucking good at that.”

Your praise has him moaning and whimpering into your pussy, heightening the experience that much more. He moves his right hand towards your ass and gives it a nice squeeze before moving towards your pussy and immediately inserting two fingers. It makes you start grinding faster, feeling yourself already close to the edge.

He starts pumping his fingers in time with your grinding, pushing you even closer to the edge. You can’t believe how quickly he got you there.

“Mike, please! Gonna cum! Make me cum.”

He pumps his fingers even faster and lightly bites down on your clit, knowing it’ll make you fall over the edge.

You scream his name out and grind on him until it’s too much and you lift yourself away from his mouth. To which he whimpers out, “where’s that pussy going? I wasn’t done yet.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Jesus. I almost passed out from how hard I came. Give me a minute.”

“So I did good?” He looks up at you with big eyes and his chin glistening with your juices.

You pat his hair. “You did so good, baby. Made me feel so good.”

He smiles and wraps his arms around your thighs and presses soft kisses to the inside of them. You close your eyes and take a minute to enjoy that before you look behind you and see his erection pressing painfully against his jeans. You need that inside of you. Right now.

You remove yourself from his face and he lets out a little whine. “Don’t worry. I’m not done. Need your cock, baby.”

You’ve never seen him undo his belt and slide his jeans down that quickly before. It almost makes you chuckle. “Eager, are we?”

He nods as he pushes his jeans down far enough that his cock springs free and hits your ass. “Need to feel you around me, babe. Please.”

You lean down and pull him into a kiss which he returns generously. You can taste yourself on his tongue. He grabs his cock and hits it against your ass, signaling that he’s ready for you to slide onto him. You take the hint and lift up and back until he catches at your entrance. He’s the first one to break the kiss as you slowly slide down onto him. The little whimpers he lets out as you sit flush against his thighs is music to your ears.

You decide to tease him and just stay resting there for a minute while looking down at him. He has his eyes clenched shut and a death grip on your hips. He opens his eyes after a few moments and looks up at you. He reaches his right hand up and places it on your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. “Go ahead and use me babe. Take what you need from me.”

You slowly start moving your hips back and forth, never really lifting them up and down. The friction against your clit is so delicious. You place both hands on his chest and start moving your hips a little faster. “Oh, fuck baby. You feel so good. You’re so deep.”

“Yeah? Am I making my girl feel good?”

You smirk down at him. “Oh, yeah. You’re being so good for me.”

He lets out another whimper as he grabs you by the back of your head and pulls you in for a heated kiss. This one sloppy and desperate. His hand that’s still on your hip starts moving you a little harder against him. He pulls away from your mouth and kisses his way up your neck towards your ear. “Come on babe. Cum on my cock. I can feel you clenching around me. Cum for me so I can be good and cum for you.”

This time you’re the one letting out a whimper. “Yeah? Want me to be your good boy and cum for you? Fill you up?”

“Please.” You whine out, moving your hips even faster than before. You can feel your orgasm coming like a freight train. There’s no stopping it.

“Oh yeah. I can feel it. You’re gonna cum for me. Do it. Make a mess on me babe. Please, I need it.”

“Yeah? You need me to cum for you? Need to feel me cum? Oh, god Mike. I’m almost there. Please don’t stop.”

He continues helping you grind your hips against his. You’re almost there. Just a little something…..

“I love you, Y/N. So fucking much.”

That did it. You’re pitched off the edge and silently scream out. The edges of your vision going white. You can vaguely hear Mike whimpering out your name as he does as promised and fills you up. You slow your hips down until you can’t move them anymore and slump down against him with your face tucking into the crook of his neck. He wraps his arms around you and rubs his hands up and down your back.

You both stay like that until your heartbeats return to normal. You lift up your head just until you can see him, almost nose to nose. He’s the first to speak. “So, did I do good for you?”

You let out a chuckle. “You were so good, baby.” You can feel him twitch inside of you at the praise. “But, we need to talk about what you said.”

Mike scrunches his brows for a few minutes before his eyes go wide and he realizes what he said. “Shit, I did not mean to say that.”

You can’t help the disappointment that crosses your face. “Oh, well that’s okay. It was in the heat of the moment.”

He quickly wraps his arms tighter around you. “No! That’s not what I meant. Shit. I one hundred percent meant it. I just wanted to make it special when I told you. Not in the middle of an orgasm. You deserve better than that.”

You smile and press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I appreciate the thought. But I really don’t need anything special. I already have you.”

His smile lights up his entire face. “I love you, Y/N.”

This time you press a kiss to his lips. “I love you, too Mike. Like, a lot.”

“I bet not as much as I love you.”

Just as you’re about to retort, Mike’s cell starts vibrating, causing you to jolt with fright since his phone is still in his pocket which your leg is pressed up against.

“Jesus Christ.”

You quickly get up so that he can grab his phone. “Hello?”

You go into the bathroom to clean up. You come back in with a wet cloth to clean Mike up. He just hangs up as you come in the room. “Everything okay?”

He smiles in thanks as you hand him the cloth. He goes about cleaning himself up. “Yeah. That was Natalie’s mom. Apparently Abby has decided she doesn’t wanna stay the night so I have to go get her.” He stands and pulls his jeans back up and smooths his shirt out. “Sorry we won’t be alone anymore.”

You pull him in for a quick kiss. “Nothing to apologize for. I love you Mike. And that means loving all of you. Which includes Abby. Whom you know I just adore. Go get her and we’ll have a movie night or something.”

He shakes his head and pulls you in for another kiss. “I still don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

You just smile in return. “After the past year you’ve been through, you deserve to be happy.”

He chuckles as he heads out the door. “Ain’t that the damn truth!”

#mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson smut #fnaf #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt imagine #fnaf x y/n #fnaf x reader #michael schmidt #five nights at freddy's

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shanastoryteller · 5 months

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Happy Solstice, Shana! more Lady Mo or something else genderbendy?

Tony's spent her whole life proving she was good enough to make it in a man's world. Her own father had written her off as a debutante, but he'd let her spend time in his workshop and look over the papers spread over his desk, on his lap or a safe distance away from all the sparks. He probably thought she liked the pictures and the lights.

She builds an engine when she's six years old, her dress torn and stained with grease and and burning with pride as she grins up at her father.

It's the first time Howard ever sees her and, she thinks, when he stops loving her.

Existing in a man's world is different than being a man. She's not allowed to forget, to indulge, she can't ever be anything else any other way than a performance.

Her whole life is a performance, so maybe there's no real difference.

She can wear broad silhouettes and make sure no one calls her Antonia and keep her hair in it's iconic pixie cut have her employees call her sir - ma'am was her mother, she says with a laugh, and god knows she took more after daddy dearest - and she spends so much of her time having dick measuring contests with generals and business rivals and every man that thinks he can put his hands on her that sometimes it's a shock to remember she doesn't have one of her own.

It's not that she doesn't like being a girl, that she doesn't get a thrill out of outrageous dresses and all her soft curves, that she doesn't like at least seeing something of her mother in her mouth and her nose.

It's just that she thinks that she could be something more. That she is something more.

But that sort of things belong to someone who doesn't have her life, her job and her responsibilities and the eyes of the world watching her every move.

She doesn't even think about the fact that the armor is a man, narrow hips and broad shoulders and nothing feminine about his cold curves of metal, until Pepper sees it.

Pepper is quiet after, pressing ice to her bruises as she sits by Tony's hips. Her eyes stray to the arc reactor, a diamond of light glowing between her breasts. A circle would have been a more solid matrix but would have required her to get a mastectomy to make it fit.

She's thought about having a smooth chest before, but in the moment when it was an option that she could reasonably provide to the public - a medical device, for her health - she'd balked, and lost a day to redesign to make it something less, something that would fit and not require her to change to too much.

It had felt like a metaphor, or a sermon, as she'd beat sheets of metal until she bled.

Pepper asks, "Is it to protect your identity? So they don't think it's you?"

Tony stares, caught off guard, her mouth open in answer that she hesitates to give because she knows it's a lie. She doesn't like lying to Pepper.

She softens. "Or is it the opposite?"

Tony is sore and exhausted and Obie is acting strangely and Rhodey isn't talking to her (he calls her and he'll call again and again until she picks up, but he won't say a word, will just listen to her breathe to make sure she still is and then hang up like a fucking a coward) and she just killed sort of a lot of people and her weapons are where they shouldn't be and every defense she's built up around this question feels like it's crumbling around her.

"Pepper," she says, then can't bring herself to say anything else.

She doesn't want to lie to her.

"I like the paint job," Pepper says, hand soft where it's gripping her shoulder. Tony hasn't had soft hands since her father loved her.

"I like red," Tony says and Pepper's cheeks turn the same color as her hair.

#identity shenanigans and gender fuckery #my two favorite things #tony keeps her identity as iron man a secret #which totally works #for a while #prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #alexseanchai #avengers

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