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#i can't even do the thing i enjoy bc my brain is making it hard for me
manasurge · 3 months
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#sometimes I wish drawing wasn't such a lonely activity#am in a bit of a social mood but can't find anything to socialize about#i also wish I didn't need to spend ALL DAY trying to prep my brain to try to draw; despite it being something I wanna do and enjoy#why must i have executive dysfunction over my hobbies#this is why it takes me one million years to something I can actually get done in a few days at most#i'm so incredibly frustrated and it's super depressing and bumming me out#it's just so frustrating and i'm so irritated at myself#i know it's shark week so maybe it's why i'm a bit of a mess; but usually it doesn't affect me during the time so idk#also i love how every night I get to deal with the crippling dread and lowkey anxiety attacks bc everything i'm avoiding/afraid of and it-#- keeps festering in my mind and makes me avoid sleep for as long as possible and i'm stuck in an eternal negative feedback loop#i can't even do the thing i enjoy bc my brain is making it hard for me#not to mention that I constantly get those thoughts about how i'm never getting anywhere in life and i am in fact; ALONE#no irl friends or family and it still scares me to think about how worse things will get in the future for me.#not to mention not having a career or being capable of doing any kind of secondary schooling makes the dread even worse#but again frustrated and i can't even apply positive activities like how I'd usually do; not to mention i'm just always mad at myself about#-everything lmao#stupid brain just let me enjoy me hobby bc i wanna do it and you're not letting me and it's making me feel worse#delete later probably idk lmao
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opens-up-4-nobody · 8 months
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#sometimes. most times. if i cant articulate things properly i feel like my heads gonna explode. which is unfortunate bc i have the#language is hard brain problems. my neurology makes articulation difficult. but i try reguardless. which is sometimes. most times.#exhausting. that words gets thrown around a lot when i describe the patterns of my thoughts. exhausting. and it is i guess. tho id say its#more annoying and frustrating. but maybe its also exhausting. hard to tell when its how u think. but ive been reading a lot of papers this#weekend. enjoying the papers i read. papers about photosynthesis at the edge of habitability. about genetis and the structure and functions#of proteins. and the learning curve is steep but im learning bit by bit. and it just sorta makes me sad bc the way that my brain works has#so damaged the way that i interact with the world and i can see it at every step of my academic career. i dont even kno what to say abt the#past 2 years of my life. from where i stand now its just a black hole of self destruction. y did i do that? i dunno. at the time i was just#following the arbitrary rules and restrictions laid out for me within my head. did these rules have a rational basis? no. not usually. but#thats how it had to be. exhausting. but even then i coukd sometimes see thru to the wonder. and it was agony bc i wasnt allowed to think#abt it. its still agony now but i can feel it more often. maybe that's what happiness is to me. to be so full of wonder that i cant take it#i cant exist in that state or id b nonfunctional. its too big for my chest. it makes me want to scream and weep and pull at my hair. and#and its maddening bc i cant articulate it properly. except to call upon media short hands. there is wonder here. a nightmarish description#but not always. sometimes it was beautiful. theres a reason ive read annihilati0n 5 times despite hating the book. theres a reason i rewatch#the terror nearly once a month. to find beauty in a thing that causes you such terror and pain. theres something about it i can't find the#words for and its driving me nuts. exhausting. but so it goes#unrelated
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cerbreus · 1 year
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it’s been a hellish last couple months dealing with being caught in the crossfire between incompetent rental car agency that is mad at me and incompetent car insurance company that didn’t tell me the person handling my claim fucking QUIT and MY CLAIM WENT FORGOTTEN FOR MONTHS and it still isn’t resolved in fact things have gotten worse and tbh, when i have major stressful setbacks in life, my body and brains’ response is to just. not. do anything. just shut down. intense fatigue, inability to focus on literally anything because the background level of stress is so high.
#bro im gonna cry#fucking got blacklisted from one of the largest rental car companies in this country and it is apparently#impossible to get off the 'do not rent' list#whats making me more upset is that i literally called them the day the windshield cracked i got things sorted out before i even dropped the#car off and still shit is so far out of my control and now i'm stuck with all these repercussions that shouldn't have happened if my#insurance that i pay a hell of a lot of money for wasn't so incompetent#bro apparently even my ROOMMATES can get blacklisted for sharing an address with me#worse yet payment has been sent out but the company is still going 'fuck you pay me killyourself never talk to us again once u pay this'#i can't get ahold of the DRU person in charge of my claim on their end to find out what happens#so it might end up going to collections anyway which will perma fuck up my credit score which i've been trying. so hard. to raise.#being an adult is a fucking nightmare i want to sleep i can't focus for longer than 5 minutes on anything before i start getting that dread#its so frustrating i can't enjoy my hobbies i can't enjoy my work (which is going well right now) bc i'm so stuck on this i need this to go#away so i can regain my brain's normal functioning and yes i have anxiety this is the worst it's been in a while though#anyway sry for the venting i'll be fine it'll be fine my insurance WILL pay for this and things will be fine (probably) once that goes thru#not that it didn't add to my stress enough that my bp probably took another year off my life lbr#personal stuff#delete later i think#DO NOT rent a car without taking the damage waiver it doesn't matter how much it costs or if you have insurance just take the damage waiver#don't be me
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phoebespenglers · 6 months
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well i think i know why this is happening to me now.
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yauchfilms · 8 days
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so american ✢ max verstappen
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pairing: max verstappen x singer!reader
warnings: none; just some silly shit, some swearing, google translate dutch, max's home race is belgium and not the netherlands for timeline related reasons
summary: y/n is teasing way too many things at once…..can the fans keep up? 
author's note: this is NOT an original concept i am aware of this. but this hasn’t left my brain in days. i’ve got a very specific vision so let me cook. i know i haven't posted on here in over a year but i've returned an f1 fan. enjoy!
yourname added to their story! 
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liked by delwatergap, maxverstappen1, and 3,491,842 others
yourname: i think i'm in love with montreal. sorry i’ve been so off the grid but i am Loving Life so hard. so much inspo in my life rn. will talk soon i promise. love u all bunches 🫶🏼🌷
ynsbestfriend: hey queen you have done it again!
-> yourname: ugh i love you so bad
user1: UM BAE WHOS THAT IN THE LAST SLIDE?
-> yourname: beats me! 
-> user1: i do not trust you. 
lilymhe: hiiiii pretty girl
-> yourname: stop im blushinggggg
user2: i fear she’s in her lover girl era 
-> user3: girl help im so fucking scared right now what’s happening
user4: so does any of this have to do with your story from yesterday??????
*liked by yourname.*
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maxverstappen1 added to their story! 
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yourname added to their story! 
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liked by honeymoon, danielricciardo, and 3,572,679 others
yourname: life's been a beach lately. clearly i've been loathing my time in spain ://///
user5: IS THAT MAX
-> user6: no bc it HAS to be
heidiberger_: Loved spending the week with you! 🤍
-> yourname: same!!!!!! let's do it again sometime 🥰
-> user6: NOT DANNY RIC'S GF COMMENTING?????? AND LILY MUNI HE ON HER LAST POST???????
user6: no bc even if her and max were dating and she's been traveling with him why have we not seen her in the paddock
-> user7: to throw us off our rhythm????
-> user8: what if they debut at his home race in spa ijbol
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liked by landonorris, taylorswift, and 4,683,892 others.
tagged: maxverstappen1, redbullracing, and ynsbestfriend
yourname: hahaha felt like dropping 2 things at once on u guys LOLLLLLLLL. thank u to redbullracing, spagrandprix, and the city of spa for letting me and my friends crash the race the other week to film the “so american” music video, and to maxie for winning in ur home country. it was so fucking special to be there supporting u. i love u baby!
ps. another thank u to max for thinking i'm the funniest person in the world and making fun of my americanness for as long as i've known him (which is quite a while).
enjoy this tune guys. it's urs forever and i hope u love it as much as i love the person it's about 🫶🏼 🇧🇪 🇳🇱 TU DU DU DU!!!!!
user9: OH NMY GOD I FUCKING KNEW I SAW U IN THE GARAGE
ynsbestfriend: thanks for letting me third wheel mommy
-> yourname: no one else i'd rather drag along!!!
danielricciardo: Welcome to the family! Song's a banger although I can't believe it's actually about Max of all people 🤢 GROSS!!
-> yourname: jealousy is a disease danny.
user10: i actually cannot fathom this this is so me core
alexandramalsaintmleux: I am so glad to know you! Your happiness is everything 🩷
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liked by sabrinacarpenter, carlossainz55, and 4,783,522 others. 
tagged: yourname and ynsfriend
maxverstappen1: Spent a week away in New England with my talented, gorgeous girl. Loved getting away and experiencing America through her eyes! Consider me an honorary American now! Also, stream “So American” wherever you choose. It's about me 😉 
yourname: does this mean i can stop hiding in the garage now???
landonorris: Happy for you mate! Love the song as well yourname 🤍
-> yourname: awe thank u lando 🥺 i got more to show u when i see u next!!!!!!
redbullracing: ❤️💙
user11: MAX IS IN HIS LOVER BOY ERA
danielricciardo: How many more times can you say American?
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liked by charles_leclerc, chappellroan, and 3,694,849 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourname: nothing like celebrating the best 2 weeks of my life than showing my boy around ye olde stomping grounds #soamerican
liamlawson30: This is so American of him
-> yourname: like he fits in so well!
lydianight: u'll have him in the american flag board shorts in no time
-> yourname: baby steps :///
user11: she really is in her lover girl era 🥺
clairo: did you take him to the chipotle that is also a historic landmark downtown??
-> yourname: dude of COURSE i did. he said it was "interesting"
yourname added to their story! 
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scribbledghost · 5 months
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Simon having sex with reader on the Thanksgiving dinner table? Maybe he comes home from work really late to a table full of food and reader looking pretty as ever, and he decides to show his gratitude.🥴😏
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Welcome Home
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader (no y/n)
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 2,009
Warnings: oral (F receiving), table sex, dirty talk, praise, use of "good girl", tongue clicks from Simon
Note: Everyone say "Thank you @sillylittlereader " for fueling my feral Scribs-brained behavior (Also everyone say "thank you anon" bc that addition made me literally lol). Gonna combine these two cause I caaaaaan. Happy Wanksgiving all! Hopefully yall enjoy my first attempt at full smut after many, many moons.
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As soon as Simon opens the front door and steps inside, he knows he's in for a good evening.
The smell of food hits him immediately, the house warmer than usual from where you'd been cooking. He discards his boots and follows the scent into the kitchen, where he finds you milling about and putting another dish onto the counter. It joins several others, and he's quick to notice at least a couple of his favorites.
"Now what's all this?" He says with a grin. You look back at him with a matching look.
"Dinner," you say simply. "I know doing day work and training on-base isn't your favorite, so I figured I'd make a nice, big meal for you. Everything's on the counter, table's cleaned off, so all you have to do is make your plate and eat."
A warm feeling constricts Simon's chest, and he finds himself unable to resist striding towards you and pulling you in for a kiss.
And another.
And another.
As he parts from you, hands on your hips as you look at him with a lidded gaze, he realizes there's one thing he wants before he enjoys the work you've put into welcoming him home.
"I know it's technically bad form, love," he rumbles, guiding you by the hips back towards the table, "but maybe you could let me have dessert first, yeah?"
"Oh, I suppose I can allow it. Just this once," you reply with a sly grin that he matches.
With that, he hefts you up onto the table and takes a seat between your legs. 
He wastes little time lifting your shirt just enough to press a few hot, open-mouthed kisses to your stomach. From there, he helps you quickly divest yourself of your pants and underwear, grabbing both and helping you lift yourself from the table just long enough for him to pull both off in one fluid motion. 
When the garments land on the floor, Simon hooks his arms beneath your legs, pulls you closer to him, and buries his face in you.
If there is one thing Simon does well when he's not in the field, it's eating. He devours you like a man starved, like he'll never get another chance to taste you. He dips his tongue into you before sliding it up to your clit, kissing and sucking and lapping at you in a practiced manner he knows works. As much as he knows he should give you a few of his fingers to help stretch you open for what is to come, he can't help but forgo the courtesy, too invested in tasting your slick to waste any.
"Taste so fucking good, baby," he moans, "can't get enough of this cunt. Never get enough of you."
He's telling the truth. He could spend hours with his head buried between your thighs. In fact, he has before. He wonders if you'll be so kind as to let him do it again tomorrow morning; have him wake you with his tongue and continue like that until you start pushing him away.
But that's a thought for later. For now, he's got much more important matters to attend to.
He feels your hand grab his hair, a low groan tearing from his lungs as you pull him deeper into you. The hands on your skin tighten their grip, his brows knit together in concentration.
"That's it love," he says, voice muffled by your cunt, "take what you want from me."
Your hips buck against him and he follows, cock hard and twitching in his pants as you moan for him. He knows you're close by the way your thighs shake in his grasp, and he's determined to all but drag you over the edge.
Your breathing gets shallower, interspersed with staccato moans and whines. You breathe his name into the air, and Simon growls against your heat.
"That's it love," he encourages again, "be good and cum for me, yeah?"
With that, he returns to his task at hand, laser-focused on getting what he wants.
And what he wants is for you to smother him. What he wants is for you to envelop him, make it so nothing else so much as touches any of his senses.
He wants - no, needs - to make you feel good. To help you fall from the precipice and lose yourself to what he's giving you.
And fall you do.
With a sharp cry of his name, he feels your sex clench and twitch against his mouth as you come undone beneath him. He helps you through it, moaning soft, affirmative "mhm"s as you ride your orgasm to its end.
When you slump against him, muscles finally relaxing, he gives you one last lick with the flat of his tongue before moving to kiss your thighs.
"Good girl," he says softly, "so, so good for me."
He begins a slow ascent, nudging his nose against the hem of your shirt and pushing it upwards so he can mouth at the skin just beneath it.
After pressing a few more kisses to your abdomen and stomach, he stands, removing his shirt and using it to somewhat dry his face before discarding it. 
"Look so fuckin' pretty when you cum," he says as he leans in to kiss you properly. "Never gonna get tired of watchin' you."
Simon's hips rut against you as his tongue dips into your mouth, a light hum leaving him as he hears you whine softly.
"I know, baby," he murmurs apologetically against your lips, "I know you're still sensitive. Jus' can't help it, yeah? Wanna make sure you're nice and wet before I take you."
It's an excuse, and both of you know it. Simon knows you're plenty ready for him, especially after one orgasm, but he's allowing himself to be selfish. To give himself a taste of you before he devours you again in another way. In the depths of his brain, he wonders if some of your slick will coat his belt. Wonders if it will dry there, where he will carry it with him the next time he wears it to base. An invisible mark of ownership.
He could keep going, keep grinding against you until he comes undone without ever even removing his own pants.
But that simply will not do. Not for Simon. And after you whine again against his mouth, the overstimulation on your clit no doubt bordering on painful, he gives you mercy.
At least, that's what he tells himself as he unbuckles his belt and undoes his pants, pushing them just far down enough with his briefs to release his cock from its confines.
"See what you do to me, love?" he says lowly as he slides gently against your heat, coating himself in a mix of your spend and his precum. 
Then, deciding he's had enough teasing for one afternoon, Simon begins the slow push into you.
He's not a small man, and he knows it. Saying so doesn't come from a place of inflated ego, but rather from real, practical experience, both with you and past lovers. He guides himself into you as gently as he's able, not wanting the pressure he knows you must feel to turn into pain.
But then, as his hips are about halfway to you, he notices something.
You've closed your eyes.
And, again, that simply will not do.
"Hey. Hey," he says gruffly before he clicks his tongue twice at you, "eyes open, love. Want you to look at me while I stuff you full."
You give him a bleary look, eyelids just barely obeying his command as he continues to push deeper into you. 
The pair of you erupt in joint moans when the front of his thighs meet your body. Simon leans forward to rest his forehead against yours as he catches his breath.
"Fuck, love, you feel so fucking good," he breathes into the space between you. 
"So do you," you answer in an equally breathless tone. 
Simon surges forward to kiss you, keeping his lips on yours as he begins to roll his hips. Your arms wrap around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer to you. 
As much as he wants to draw this out, as much as he wants to start slowly and build up until you're both tense and begging for release, he simply can't find it in himself to wait any longer. His hips seem to move of their own accord, snapping into you and punching moans from your lungs. 
When he pulls back for a moment to stand and watch your body, he notices that your eyes are once again closed as you're lost to the pleasure he's giving you.
"Show me those pretty eyes, love," he says softly. When you only whine in response, he reluctantly stills his thrusts.
"Hey, eyes on me," he says more harshly, once again clicking his tongue at you. "You open those eyes and look at me."
You slowly obey, and he feels you clench around him when he clicks his tongue. When he's satisfied that you're watching, he begins his thrusts again.
"There she is," he says breathlessly with a grin. "There's my girl."
He holds your gaze as he continues, fucking into you at an increasing pace. He is enraptured by you. By your voice, by your body, by your gaze. He chases his high, but quickly realizes there's something important that he's forgotten.
"Reach down and touch yourself for me, love," he commands. "Want you to give me one more before I fill you."
To your credit, you do as he asks, reaching a hand down to rub at your clit as he continues to thrust into you. The action catapults Simon impossibly closer to his peak, though by some grace he manages to hold himself together as you chase another orgasm.
It doesn't take as long as Simon assumes it will for you to come again. Or perhaps it does. Time has long since become an abstract concept to Simon, just as it always does when he's inside of you like this. Nevertheless, he feels your walls flutter around him as you sigh his name.
"Good girl," he croons to you as you come, "good girl."
Once you come down, he throws his self-restraint to the wind and surges towards his own orgasm in earnest. 
"Gonna cum, love," he says, leaning in to touch his forehead to yours again. "Gonna fill you up, make you mine."
You don't respond in words, but he feels a hand grab the back of his head as you pull his lips to yours. 
A groan rips through his body as Simon comes, stilling inside of you as his cock twitches. He moans out some approximation of your name against your lips as he loses himself.
An indeterminate amount of time later, when the two of you part and begin to catch your breath, you lock eyes.
And you both laugh.
A light, beautiful sound.
"Well, can't say I was expecting that," you say.
"Had to thank you somehow, love," he quips. 
He helps you to sit up, tucking himself back into his pants as he leaves his shirt on the floor and his belt unbuckled. He aids you in putting your pants and underwear back on, softly promising to help you shower after you both eat.
"After all," he says as he kisses you, "it'd be a tragedy to let all this food get any colder than it is already."
You laugh softly at him.
"And whose fault would that be, Mr. Riley?"
"Yours," he says with a teasing nip to your shoulder, "not my fault you looked good enough to eat."
The soft, good-natured groan you give him as you lightly shove him from you warms his heart. On the field, he prides himself on being cold, calculated, and for leaving little room for anything else. But here, in his home, with you by his side, he feels like the battlefield is a thousand years away.
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heizouz · 8 months
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begging for sub lyney + praise kink i'd do Anything
nsfw sub!lyney + gn!reader, praise, lots of praise, dumb lyney
this isn't my favourite piece but lyney is all i can think about recently so i just had to get this out as fast as possible. thank u SM for this req bc it's just made me think abt how much of a praise kink he'd have lorddd... n e way i hope this is okay!!.. <33
"you did so good today."
lyney thinks he will burst if one more compliment falls from your lips. you're close—too close. your hands are all over him, teasing the buttons of his shirt, tugging at his belt loops, tracing along the lines of his jaw. he's so flustered, worked up, adrenaline still flooding through his body from his previous performance.
his hat and shoulder cape have been discarded on the makeup desk behind him, your eagerness not giving him any time to take a breath as you'd hurried him into his dressing room and painted his face with needy kisses. lyney had laughed, pushing you away to cheekily ask if you'd enjoyed the performance that much; his cockiness soon fading once the praises started tumbling out between desperate kisses against his skin.
your thigh is between lyney's parted legs, his back against the makeup desk; hands fisting the material of your shirt at your shoulders as he grinds against your thigh. he's whimpering, soft and embarrassed—a complete switch to his usual confident on stage persona and you can't help but feel the wave of pride at the way lyney can't seem to look up, fixated on the way he moves so obediently for you.
"look at you." you sigh, head tilting as you watch him fall apart against your leg. your eyes are soft but dark, taking in the desperate cant of his hips and pretty gasps with every movement.
you're not even doing anything. lyney does all the work—working himself along your thigh, fingers curling into your shirt, eyebrows furrowed with concentration to make himself finish.
he'd been so stressed for his performance, so it'd been your plan all along to let it be known how well he did. the relief of finally getting his act done was clear as lyney was so accepting to relieve himself, to let you reward him for such a good show.
"just like that," you whisper. your hand tilts his head to finally look up at you, his eyes glassy and needy, "my pretty lyney."
lyney flushes at the praise, breath hitching, "st-stop, please." though his thrusts never seem to slow, hips only stuttering a little.
you take note of that, eyebrows raising when you flicker your gaze to his desperate grinding, "you want to stop?" you press your thigh harder against him, leaning impossibly closer across body, "but you're doing such a good job for me, darling."
"mh-hah-" lyney whines, loud, at the feeling of your thigh pressing hard against his cock straining against his shorts. he doesn't seem to realise how pitchy he's getting, brain fuzzy and too focused on you and your close body and the praises and his need to show you how even better he can be.
lyney can't think when you press your hand over his mouth to stifle his increasing moans. your chest presses against his and although he never seizes to slow the movement of his hips, your close proximity and the weight of your body pressing him hard against the makeup desk forces his eyes to roll back at the friction of your thigh against his cock. he can feel himself dripping against the material of his shorts, so incredibly close to breaking from just the press of your thigh alone. the thought would've flooded him with embarrassment if he could think properly.
you force him to keep eye contact, his eyes lidded and glossed over, the only thing separating you being your hand covering his mouth. your eyebrows furrow a little at the halt of his hips, "hm? don't stop, dove. you're being so perfect for me."
he feels so hot, his throat is closed up, unable to form a coherent word except the muffled whimpers and whines. his brain is muddled, the previous anxiety of a bad performance completely erased because now he's being good for you, he's so perfect, he's doing such a good job.
and to top it off, you lean in close when he starts to rock his hips at your command, whispering the words, "good boy." and lyney could cry.
lyney's eyes threaten to close, eyebrows scrunched and pretty breathy whimpers bleed past your hand over his mouth at the words, hips stuttering against your leg. purple irises gloss over with tears of pleasure, everything all too much and all you can do is smirk a little at how fucked out the usual suave and charming magician is.
"'m gonna-" lyney mumbles behind your hand, breath quickening and he pleads with his eyes, words stopping halfway to moan noisily.
"ah-ah!" you rip away his chance suddenly, hand dropping from his mouth and you back up slightly so you're no longer situated between his legs. lyney whines, bucking into the air at the loss of friction, eyes pooling with tears.
"n-no, please, please." lyney's desperate, voice broken and whiny.
"not yet, dove. 'need to get these off." you play with the belt loops of his shorts, tugging him a little closer. you smile wolfishly, going to pull the material down, "i need to reward you properly."
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jeonqkooks · 11 months
Note
jungkook #33 from the fluff list 💗 (even better if its like fboy badboy jungkook getting flustered and shy around oc hehe)
daft pretty boys | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
prompt: "i can't think around you."
rating: G
word count: 0.8k
genre/warnings: classmates to .. lovers?, college au, basketball captain!jk, he's neither a fuck boy nor a bad boy he's just a cute boy <3, fluff, swearing as per uzh, i plagiarized MYSELF bc the shit mentioned here was actually taken from my final paper for a film class two years ago lmaooooooo
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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If there's one thing that Jungkook absolutely despises, it's when people think jocks are dumb. It's a common misconception and it's downright hurtful sometimes; just because Jungkook is the basketball captain, doesn't mean that anybody has the right to assume he's got hay for brains.
However, if someone were to come up to him right now and say it to his face, he probably wouldn't disagree.
"So yeah, if they lose the memories of these relationships, I think they'd also be losing parts of themselves that make them whole, because an individual's identity is an accumulation of multiple smaller identities they have with every single intimate relationship that ultimately forms one collective identity, y'know?" you finish, and it's not until then that Jungkook comes back down to earth, realizing that he's just been staring at you this whole time. "Anyway, what do you think?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah! Same, uhm," Jungkook stammers. "I also thought about their collective relationsh- I mean, collective identity and multiple identities and-"
You purse your lips as you take in his whole demeanor, like a nervous child fumbling with his words. "Did you not watch the movie?"
He did watch the movie. In fact, Jungkook watched it three times over the weekend because that's how much he liked it. When he registered for this class - History of Popular Cinema - at the end of last semester, he was hoping that it'd be an easy elective so he could focus more on basketball and his core courses. And for the most part, this film class is easy. All he has to do is watch movies and hand in a few short essays every now and then. Piece of cake.
Then the final paper rolls around and the professor assigns everybody a partner to work with. In theory, it should still be a piece of cake, because there still isn't that much to do anyway.
So why is it so fucking hard all of a sudden?
Jungkook had never really noticed you before you became his designated collaborator for the month. Never saw you on campus, never saw you attending the games. Hell, he didn't even know your name until this final assignment.
"I watched it," he defends himself lamely.
"Okay. And?"
"It was good."
You frown, and all Jungkook can think about is how adorable that crease between your eyebrows is. How he just wants to reach across the table and smooth it over, or better yet, kiss it away.
He's fully aware of how stupid he must look, with his sweaty palms and his words falling over each other like goddamn Jenga pieces, in front of a girl that he's been obsessed with for weeks now. Jungkook doesn't normally do crushes, but the more time he spends with you to work on this lame ass paper, the more he finds his mind drifting to you even when you're not in his vicinity.
He thinks you're so pretty when you absentmindedly bite your lip whenever you're concentrating. He thinks you always smell like jasmine, and he's delighted by how your scent lingers on his own clothes after every time you meet, like he's carrying home a reminder of you. He thinks you're ten leagues smarter than him when you text him whole paragraphs detailing how postmodern filmmakers flirt with the concept of identity fragmentation through different types of cinematic manifestation as a reflection of the realistic postmodern person, because what the fuck does that even mean?
"You're not doing a very good job at convincing me you watched the movie," you say.
Jungkook groans internally - and a little externally too - as he runs a hand down his face. "I watched it, I promise," he tells you. "I watched it, and I really liked it. It made me think about a lot of deep shit that I don't normally think about."
"Uh huh," you say slowly. Your frown is still there, but now it's embedded in confusion as you try to understand his dilemma. "Then tell me about that. What was the deep shit?"
"I can't."
"Why not?"
How is he supposed to explain that every single thought he had suddenly grew legs and yeeted itself out the window the second he saw you arrive today, wearing a stunning smile and a t-shirt that says Caution: Full of Shenanigans? Not once in his entire life had Jungkook felt so no thoughts, head empty.
"Because I can't think around you," he settles on being honest. "Because I keep thinking about you when you're not here, yet when you are, I can't even think at all."
It takes a minute for his words to sink into your brain, and Jungkook watches nervously as a blush spreads across your cheeks, so rosy that he just wants to grab your face and pepper kisses all over. For the first time since he has known you, you don't know how what to say.
The sight of you, rendered speechless by him being rendered an idiot, has Jungkook blushing too. Despite the patch of bashful silence that ensues, somewhere outside the metaphorical windows of his and your minds, both your thoughts are riding off into the sunset together, holding hands.
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all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 27.05.2023]
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sp1rit-realm · 8 months
Text
༻¨*:· 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 ·:*¨༺
༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ you hate remus lupin, and he hates you. what happens when you get stuck in a lift together?
༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 hour five!!!!! 𖦹 enemies to ?? 𖦹 forced proximity 𖦹 fem!reader 𖦹 remus has chronic pain 𖦹 i did not proofread this bc i'm lazy ⎝(ˊᗜˋ)⎠ 𖦹 ik this is short but next ch will be out very very soon. i am trying to keep you fed, my children, but life is hard and i am busy! 𖦹 again, thank you so, so much for the love on this series!!!!
༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 465
prologue / hour 5 << pt. 6 -- hour 5 >> six months ago
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"Shit— That's not—" He struggles out.
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༻¨*:· 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝟓 ·:*¨༺
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"No, I get it, Remus. I'm just a human disappointment, aren't I?"
"Y/n," he sighs, "That's—that's not what I meant."
"So what did you mean, Remus?"
"I—" His mouth stays open, but nothing comes from it.
"That's what I thought."
"Y/n," He scrambles frantically, "I didn't— I wasn't thinking straight. Please, listen—"
"Why would you even care? It's not like you enjoy me or anything. You hate me, Remus," Tears coat your eyes, and you're praying to whoever—whatever will listen that they won't fall. They don't listen, "You hate me, and I hate you." You huff, angrily wiping at your tears.
"I," He shakes his head, "I don't hate you."
It's like an invisible fist wraps itself around your lungs and squeezes. You can't breathe. The walls start closing in on you, "Yes, you do." You insist.
He winces, glancing down at the floor, before shaking his head, "No. No, I don't."
He looks up at you, voice dropping to a whisper, almost painfully quiet, "I've never hated you."
You stand up, "You're lying, Remus. Don't lie to me."
He stands, too, "I— I'm not lying. How do I make you believe that?"
"How?" You ask, "Try not being a dick to me!"
His gaze remains fixed on the ground, "I'll— okay. I'll be nice," He decides.
"Actually," You huff, "Don't bother."
He sighs, rubbing his face, "You are being so difficult! Do you want me to be nice or not?"
You want to scream, "I want you to tell me the truth! Do you hate me or not?!"
Remus groans, sliding back down the wall, "You are impossible," He sounds defeated—he looks the part, too.
"So what if I am?" You're being difficult on purpose by now, but you have every right to. He's the one who screwed things up between the two of you. Things could have been perfect, but they aren't. You are stuck in a godforsaken lift with Remus Lupin, and he doesn't hate you.
'I don't hate you.'
The words taunt you—they replay in your mind over and over.
Remus Lupin doesn't hate you.
"Hey," The voice from earlier crackles through the speaker, "Maintenance is," he takes a deep breath, "Maintenance is gonna be another hour or so. Sorry 'bout that. Hang in there!" And with that, he's gone.
The tension is so thick you swear you can feel it weighing you down.
You're both silent for about ten minutes.
"I don't hate you. I— I wish I had a valid excuse for the way I've treated you, but I don't." Remus looks at his palms like there's blood on his hands—and there very well might be.
Your voice is small, "So what's your reason?" You lift your head to look at him, but he's still staring at his hands.
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HEHEHEHEHEHEHE
lmk if u wanna b tagged!
@queerpumpkinnn @ay0nha @knaveism @whennyxfallsinlove @freezing-my-brain @starlit-epiphany @inkluvs @t3rritorial-piss1ngs @starsval @little-snow @bubybubsters @zvdvdlvr @venzami-burst @rosalyn-s @ttulipwritezz @fate-posts @sparky--bunny @severegiantjudgefriend @secretdazeobservation @violetteshoneybee @bubybubsters @lina844 @d3adp00ls @daisydark @joeytribbiani18 @thesecretwriter @peachielol @avatarjuno @helloitsmeeeeeee @flores-and-sunshine @mi-reille @kayden666 @sleepybookworm21 @m0rtifiedg0th @jollyjenoo @remuslupinsbae @siriusblackenthusiast @psychobitchsthings @lonaah @djlance-rock @starchaser-lily @odettebarton @mannaornot
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onlyjaeyun · 11 months
Note
ok but jay or jake idk which suits this more but I THINK BOTH would love to fuck u in the back of their brand new car like they just picked it up n already they need u in the backseat to ‘break it in’ n claim it as yours
omg my sweet sweet cinna this is such a delicious thought to be honest and as someone who lowk has a thing for cars this made my head spin 🤞🏼🥺
— cw: fem!reader, lowk exhibitionism, creampies, car sef (it's parked lol)
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Personally I think this whole concept suits Jay more than Jake, simply because he gives me those vibes and the combination of him and expensive cars makes me giggle. 🤭
Park Jongseong has a very specific model of a car in his minds which he's determined to make his own once he's got his life together. and as he works very hard to save up for it, you're by his side all along way, supporting him in every aspect possible (except financially bc he'd "rather drink a bottle of piss" than take his precious girlfriend's money), which he's more than just grateful for.
after months of picking out every single detail with a lot of care and thoughts, he finally gets to pick his nee baby up and take her home. and there's absolutely no way jay's not taking you with him because he wants to share this very special moment with the one person who's never doubted him or his saving abilities.
by the time you two drive away in the sexiest car you've ever been in, you quickly notice the way your boyfriend struggles to realise that this isn't a dream and he's actually sitting in his dream car, which he actually owns now.
as jay makes his way to the highway, you reach over to caress his cheek with a soft giggle of excitement, simply enjoying your boyfriend's happiness snd wordlessly letting him know how proud you are of him.
only for a single second does he avert his gaze from the street to look at you, just a single second.
yet the next thing your brain manages to comprehend is the feeling of jay's big hands roaming your body like a man gone mad.
you can't even properly remember when he drove off the highway and into the most random exit to find an abandoned parking lot before he pulled you into the backseat of his new car.
"j-jay", you whimper and throw your head back, losing every bit of composure you had left the second he pulls your panties down your thighs, almost instantly burying his face in your drenched cunt ss he tightly takes a hold of your soft hips.
your biyfriend's always been one to surprise you with his actions and behavior, yet nothing could have ever prepsred you for the hunger in his eyes snd the determin in his grip on you.
"want you to be the first thing i do in this baby", he grunts and wraps his pretty lips around your sensitive clit, nudging your soaking wet entrance with the tips of his fingers before he slowly pushes them in and moans against your cunt at the way you start clenching around the digits.
"please", is the only thing you manage to get out, your head spinning from all the arousal clouding your brain, "fuck me then."
and how could jay deny his perfect girl a request so sweet, right?
without saying another word, you lazily watch your boyfriend unbuckle his belt, pulling his pants down just enough to expose his rock hard cock to your hungry eyes before he lets a thick drop of his own spit fall onto the tip and gives himself a few good strokes.
you have absolutely no idea how many times you cum, but by the end of jay's energy and impressive stamina, you can feel the mixture of your own snd his cum pooling underneath your ass, staining the expensive leather of his brand new car.
"mission accomplished", is the only thing jay mumbles before he lets out a breathy chuckle and pulls you into the sweetest kiss.
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wikiangela · 2 months
Text
tease tidbit tuesday
tagged by @diazsdimples @tizniz @daffi-990 💖
I wish I could post more of the new secret relationship wip I posted on sunday bc y'all hyped me up to continue with it lol, but I wrote too little for it so far (still can't focus on one thing at a time smh, how do i quiet my brain😅) but I got randomly inspired for the cheating fic so here's a lil snippet of drunk buck and drunk eddie talking
prev snippet
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"(...), and you can’t tell me this one was a mistake, too.” he says with a bit of pleading in his voice, as if wanting Buck to admit he wanted this, that it’s not just the alcohol this time.
“It was.” Buck says stubbornly, but it sounds weak, like an attempt to convince himself and Eddie, and maybe even the universe. He’s such a shit person right now, and he’s had bad luck when he was his best self, so he’s kind of scared of what karma will bring him now. “This is wrong, we’re just- we’re ruining our friendship, and it’s not worth it.”
“Hm. Okay.” Eddie nods slowly, in thought. “So you think this is bad for us, too? That you don’t enjoy this? Don’t want more of this?” he gets closer, their bodies just inches away. Buck’s body longs for Eddie’s touch, all of his cells on fire just from the proximity. “Because I thought I was pretty clear about how I feel. But you…” Eddie huffs, his breath, smelling like alcohol, hits Buck in the face. “You keep sending me mixed signals, and I don’t know what to think, Buck.”
“I- I don’t- I’m sorry.” Buck stammers, not sure what else to say. Eddie makes it hard to think. It’s hard to think about anything but dropping back to his knees and going for round two. Buck always did better at sex than talking, anyway. 
“I’m not the one you should be saying sorry to.” Eddie shakes his head, then his eyes scan Buck’s face, lingering on his eyes and lips. “I wish I could stop myself from- fuck.” he shakes his head again, takes a step back.
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no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @buckaroosheart @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @sunshinediaz @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @hoodie-buck @nmcggg @jesuisici33 @exhuastedpigeon @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz @honestlydarkprincess @theotherbuckley @steadfastsaturnsrings @fortheloveofbuddie @911-on-abc
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ticklish-n-stuff · 11 months
Note
Yes, I shall! Sakura, could you pleaaase write something for Ler Dazai! Many please and thank yous!
Ler!Dazai x gn!reader
I wrote this at 4 am bc I got hit with inspiration and lee mood go brr
Still, I hope you likey~
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Dazai x gn!reader (romantic)
Lee: reader
Ler: Dazai
Warnings: Tickles!
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You were currently at your shared apartment with Dazai, found laying on the bed on your stomach while scrolling on your phone and kicking your feet back and forward like a school girl.
Dazai walked into the scene, a smirk forming on his face. In a swift motion, he flopped himself down on top of you. His tall, slender body keeping you trapped.
"Gyah! D-Dazai?! What are you doing...?"
"I could ask you the same! Whatcha got there?~" he wrapped his arms snuggly along your waist, making you feel even more trapped and flustered. Your cheeks grew darker as he nodded over to what you were reading on your phone.
"Uhh... nothing?" you gave off a nervous smile. It didn't take a genius to know you were lying, or in this case, feeling too embarrassed to admit that you were reading tickle fanfiction of all things! Oh and to be caught in the act by your one and only suicidal maniac...
"Aww c'mon, it can't be THAT embarrassing~" he chuckled as he easily snatched your phone away, taking a glance at the screen. You quickly covered your face in pure embarrassment, not knowing how he'd react. After a moment, you heard another chuckle escape his lips, except it sounded more sinister. "Hehe~ Is my sweet belladona too embarrassed to ask me to tickle them?~" even though you couldn't see his face, you could clearly picture the teasy, smug look on it.
"It's not that hard! You just gotta say: "Dazai-kun, please tickle me!~" he snickered at his own dramatization. Then, he leaned down to whisper in a low voice near your ear "Besides... I'm sure you'd prefer the real thing instead of just reading it...~".
Before your brain could even process what just happened, his nimble fingers climbed up your sides, giving it light yet firm squeezes.
"GAH—!" you couldn't control the loud gasp that spilled out of your mouth. The touch causing you to squirm under him, not like you could get away anyways.
"Look at you, so sensitive~ It almost seems like you like it! Oh wait...~" he giggled along with you as his fingers glided all over your back, making you arch and squeal in ticklish glee.
"Nahaha! D-Dazahahai...!" your legs frantically kicked from behind. As much as you hated to admit it, you loved every moment of this. Your face fell on the mattress, trying to muffle all the funny sounds that escaped your lips. Although it just made Dazai want to tease you more.
"Oh? Did I hit a sensitive spot?~" he grinned cheekily as his short nails lightly scratched at your shoulder blades. Going all around them and making sure to go between them too.
"EEK—! PFFT! AHAHAHAHAHA!" you couldn't protest even if you wanted to. All that came out was that gorgeous, uncontrollable laughter as your body involuntarily jerked around underneath your partner.
"You seem to really like it here, I mean just listen to those squeals!~" with that, he dug in slightly harsher to intensify the sensation, chuckling when he got the desired sound he was looking for. He then went back to more light caresses, enjoying your quiet giggles and the way your body twitched with each touch.
"D-Dazai plehehease..." you felt your body go limp. Once he noticed you stopped struggling, he stopped his tickly assault and got off of you. He felt quite proud of his tickling skills when he saw your panting, red face.
"So... did you like that?~".
As you started to calm down, you looked up at him, although you quickly averted your gaze as the embarrassment started hitting once again. Still, you gave a shy nod to his question. He then gently grabbed your hand and looked at you with a more genuine, warm smile. "Hey... if you ever wanna be tickled again, don't be afraid to ask".
The gentleness in his voice managed to calm down your nerves a bit, but of course that didn't last long as he went back to his teasing self. "Besides, you're so adorable when you squirm like that~" he teased, playfully booping your nose.
That surely didn't go as you expected, but it sure was better than what you could've ever hoped for.
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I didnt proofread bc tired. I hope this is okay akdhskdhsjdb
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ohbo-ohno · 5 months
Note
Rereading that noncon Ghoap puppy walk fic bc it makes me go insane. And I have so many questions. How can Johnny even breathe? What did they do beforehand that the others just immediately incorporate it into their routine? Did Gaz encounter puppy!Soap before? What are Price and Gaz thoughts on all this (Bc fuck, their commentary killed me - asking about belly rubs and giving advise on punishment)? Do they think this is completely consensual? Or do they suspect that there is more going on? Do they hope that there is more going on? Are they getting off on the thought of participating even in the smallest of ways in breaking down Soap? If ever Soap got his brains together enough to ask for help, would they give it to him or would they push him to his knees and take him like they always dreamed of doing and then return him to Ghost?
ahhh day 11 kinktober. my longest and least popular drabble from that month LMAO. tysm for asking about it!
i actually mapped quite a bit of that fic out in my head! but because it's entirely from soap's perspective, there are questions that you just can't answer yk?
first of all - it's pure erotica, so it exists in that kind of limbo that all semi-public/public erotica exists in - you've got to suspend your disbelief a bit, just for the sake of horniness lmao
1 - johnny can breathe (through his nose, because the hood isn't sealed shut), but not well. he's breathing heavily throughout the entire fic because of both his panic and the fact that he can only breathe through his nose
2 - i think i said this in another ask but! it was supposed to be that when ghost left johnny tied up at the beginning of the fic, he was going around and making sure only certain people were on base (hence price asking why he didn't come sign his paperwork). no rookies, since they could potentially lose all respect for soap, and no people who he knew were going to be shitty about it. the people he was okay with seeing johnny, he'd go up and say basically "i'm going to be doing public kink here later. either go or don't complain later". there probably aren't all that many people actually still on base, just lots of people looping around the building to watch
3 - gaz has probably caught the Vibe before, just from the way that ghost treats soap (and neither of them are subtle). price probably knows the extent of it just because he's their captain and he knows everything about all of them, but he's content to let them be. also gaz is probably just a kinky as them lmao, he doesn't care
4 - im soooo mixed on the "do price and gaz know it's not entirely consensual" thing. my gut says that price knows that ghost is manipulating soap, and gaz suspects. i think gaz might get a little worried, try and ask soap about it, and be mollified when soap near aggressively defends ghost. but price? he knows everything about them, doesn't he? but i think price also knows that sometimes the best thing for someone isn't always the nicest... and soap seems better with ghost, seems better after his training. as long as ghost isn't destroying him, he'll let them be
(i looooved their commentary too. i very very rarely dabble in public humiliation, and it's got to be sooo specific for it to work for me, but i love it in that fic)
5 - they both 100000% get off on being involved. if they didn't, they'd step back a bit. price is always gonna get off on being in control (and im a big fan of some light priceghost... maybe price taught ghost how to control a wild boy, and he enjoys watching his student grow into a master) and i think gaz is probably kinda into puppy play himself lmao, he's just there to get hard and have fun
i think if soap went to price for help, he'd get his mouth fucked, his ass whipped with a belt, and get locked in his cage until ghost got back. but im really not sure about gaz....
part of me says gaz is a sweetheart, he'd help soap. i could see him taking soap to price for help, and then the above following (right after price "explains" what soap needs to gaz, does a little manipulation and gaslighting of his own)
thanks for your questions! hope my answers are satisfactory lol
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Note
Hii I was wondering if you could do some bill x s/o with adhd? No pressure!! Love all your works xx
(Hello! So sorry for the wait and I tried my best to do research for ADHD bc I don't have it, as far as I'm concerned, but ty for requesting and enjoy!)
Bill Kaulitz x ADHD!Reader
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He can be a bit surprised on how hyper you can get
Or how you can do so many things at once
He tries to keep your attention on him so much but boy is struggling a bit
He loves you though
He has to hold your hand wherever y'all go as to not lose you
He knows you can be a bit impulsive
But so can he!
You both practically are the same person, he just watches over you more than him!
He helps you if you ever feel bad about your ADHD
He knows you can't control it and will never let you feel bad or guilty about it
He'll take it if it means you come along with it
He once got annoyed with you before he knew about your ADHD and felt like shit when you told him
He was actually interested in learning about it when you opened up to him about it
He asked the questions he needed, got up and shrugged it off
It didn't phase him, he cared about you and in no way was it a deal breaker
You often forget things and he's like a mom friend with it
"Do you have (blank)? What about- okay, I have one for you."
He always has whatever you lost no matter what somehow
Even if you forget things
It can be a little frustrating at times if you forget stuff a lot
But dw, he will remind you or write it on your hand or arm to help you remember
If you have a hard time listening, and can't really focus on stuff he will do his best
Like to help you refocus or give you breaks to do what you want before going back to what's at hand
Let's you do practically want you want but responsibility
You're a bit impulsive and can be random, so he's like a running mother after a run away at times but it's okay
He makes Tom, Gustav and Georg understand about how your brain works and to not be upset if you lose or forget something
He'll kill them if they do, even if he understands
If you make little mistakes and get sad or get worried, he'll do his best to help you relax
It's just a tiny mistake, no worries
Hell help you fix it as fast as you can
He has to tug you back into life a few times because your mind wanders
You keep him up and running though
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here2bbtstrash · 2 years
Text
look down on me like that - 7 (explicit)
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genre: slow burn enemies to lovers hatefucking coworkers au, smut (w some eventual angst)
pairing: yoongi x reader
summary: your asshole coworker min yoongi has made it his personal mission to ruin your life.
word count: 8.9k
contains: ~explicit sexual content~ !! alcohol mention, baby goth jungkookie 👀 some appreciation of jimin's ass 🍑 wonho is back !!! reader continues to be goin through it, jimin pulls no punches this chapter he rly said the library is open, could it be..... a.... softer yoongi???, i put some of yoongi's actual achievements as a producer in here (yes that's a warning), suckin' dick and fuckin' in the office yktfv (but make it Riskier™️), inadvisable methods of dealing with presentation anxiety, protected sex, a half-kiss that i fully expect to be screamed at about, some Sad Yoongi Backstory is unlocked (and yes it's real 🥲), and???? feelings??? maybe????????
A/N: ohhhhhh man we're back back again 🫡 i really did not think this chapter was gonna go that hard and then suddenly sdkjgdfljg i don't even know what happened. thank you so much for your patience bc i know it's been a minute 🥺 and i really really hope y'all enjoy and can't wait to hear what you think !!!! 💜 AND I CAN ALREADY TELL YOU Y'ALL AREN'T READY FOR CHAPTER 8...... (i'm not even ready 😩)
ALL MY LOVE TO @haliiimede FOR BETA READING ILY SORRY I FORGOT TO CREDIT YOU THROW ME AWAY
read on AO3!
chapter six | masterlist | chapter eight
~*~
“Jungkook?”
His nose scrunches up a little when he laughs. “Were you expecting someone else?”
“I-I… I just—” You stammer, trying to remember how to make words happen. It feels like your brain is on a five-second delay. “You, uh, look different. Your outfit.”
You’ve interacted with your baby-faced coworker literally hundreds of times at this point, and in that time you’ve become well-accustomed to seeing him in his standard corporate attire, slacks and button-downs, or occasionally changed out for boxing class, muscle tees and sweatpants.
But you have never seen him dressed like this. All black, head-to-toe. His t-shirt and over-shirt are both baggy while somehow still managing to hug tight around his biceps and the solid muscle of his chest. A silver chain dangles from one of the belt loops of his slouchy utility pants, which are in turn tucked into chunky combat boots that easily give him an extra two inches of height. A matching thick silver chain is clasped around his neck, glittering in the dim light of dusk outside your front door.
Jungkook frowns as he looks down at himself, like he doesn’t even recall what he’s wearing. “I always dress like this,” he remarks with a shrug. “Just, not at work.”
“I cannot believe you,” you say, somewhat breathless as your eyes trace down his body and back up.
“What?” He laughs again. “What did I do?”
“First you keep from me that you have dogs, and now I found out you’re goth, too? What else are you hiding, Jeon Jungkook?!”
“I’m not hiding anything! These things never came up!” He sounds so flustered that you can’t help but smile, and you see a clear expression of relief flash over his face as he seems to realize you’re not actually mad.
You shake your head, digging into your purse to retrieve your phone as you brush past him, letting the front door slam shut behind you. “That’s it. Baby Star Candy is dead. You are officially Baby Goth now. Changing your contact name and everything.”
When you turn to look at him over your shoulder, he’s still smiling, still standing dumbfounded on your doorstep.
“Come on, Baby Goth!” You can’t quite suppress the laughter in your voice. “I don’t want to be late!”
As the two of you slip into Jungkook’s car and he starts to pull out of your apartment complex, he glances over at you. ”So, what did you get up to today? I feel like I barely saw you.”
Your gut twists as it all comes rushing back— that mere hours ago Yoongi had you pressed against the door of his office, his hand up your dress, while he went through an entire business conversation with none-the-wiser Jungkook on the other side. And that once Jungkook had left, you’d turned around and practically begged Yoongi to fuck you where you stood, right up against his fucking door. And he had.
Your chest constricts a little at the thought. Sex, in the office, in the middle of the workday. Like an idiot.
You wish you could say you regret it.
Heat rushes to your face, and you fumble for an answer to Jungkook’s question. “I just, uh— today… was a lot.” You hope your smile is more convincing than it feels, and you hope you’re just imagining the way Jungkook’s eyes linger on you for an extra second before his gaze flits back to the road.
“Well,” he thumbs at the volume control on the steering wheel, turning up the radio a couple notches. “Now we get to have fun. Work hard, play hard, right?”
Your nerves start to recede again as you fall into the comfortable routine of time spent with Jungkook. It’s funny to you now that you thought it might be any different to interact with him outside of work.
Apart from the mildly distracting fit of his shirt, Jungkook is exactly the same— wide eyes sparkling in the headlights of passing cars as he babbles on about TikTok, then interrupts himself to sing along to the radio. He only pauses for breath when you interject with directions to the venue, until he’s finally pulling into a parking space and turning the key to kill the engine.
Jungkook gazes up in awe as you have your tickets scanned and lead him into the venue entrance, clearly trying to take it all in. This is one of your favorite places to see Jimin perform, and it’s still overwhelmingly impressive, even though you’ve seen it dozens of times now.
“Wow, this place is really nice. Your friend must be a pretty big deal.”
“Jimin is a huge deal,” you say with a nod and a shrug, used to it. “You’ll understand why when you see him dance… And also when you see his ass.” You giggle a little, unable to help yourself.
Jungkook laughs too, eyebrows lifting off his forehead like he wasn’t expecting that response.
You wave him down a hallway towards the center of the venue. “Come on, Baby Goth, we’re in VIP.”
His brows lift impossibly higher. “What does that mean?”
You shoot him a wink. “It means we drink for free.”
You know the route by heart as you emerge from the hallway and lead Jungkook towards the front, where you flash your tickets again to be let into a section close to the stage.
Jungkook eagerly volunteers to get the first round, and you’re thankful he isn’t gone long. Alone with your thoughts is the last thing you want to be right now— at least not while sober. When he hands you your drink, you lean in to tap the plastic edge of your cup against his in a cheers.
“To working hard and playing hard,” you smirk as you repeat his line back to him, then pause. “Just— please do not share anything I say tonight with anyone at work.”
“I swear,” Jungkook nods, and you can’t help but smile when he holds out the pinky of his free hand. You link yours with his to seal the deal. “I’m good at keeping secrets,” he says earnestly.
“Right, like you kept the secret of Yoongi’s lock code?”
His face immediately reddens. “That was different.” He covers the awkward pause— or maybe you’re just imagining it— when he takes a sip of his drink, then continues. “Did you ever end up using it?”
Your heart drops into your stomach, and you exhale in relief when at that moment, the lights start to dim, and the now filled-in crowd begins to cheer in anticipation. You wave a hand at Jungkook as if to indicate you’ll tell him later, and you pray he won’t remember to bring it up again.
As the dancers take the stage, you lean over to point Jimin out to Jungkook, though you know as soon as he starts moving you won’t have to. Everyone is talented, but there’s something about the way your best friend dances that makes it impossible to watch anyone else. He can nail any style, can convey so much story and emotion through his movements, can execute choreography flawlessly while still doing it in his own unique way.
After the first few songs, you’re both on your feet, and when Jungkook leans toward you to be heard over the music, you’re certain he’s about to gush over how good Jimin is, the way everyone does the first time they see him perform.
“You weren’t kidding about his ass!” He half-shouts instead, and you nearly drop your drink. Jungkook stares openly at Jimin as he moves across the stage, both powerful and graceful. His head tilts slightly to one side. “I mean. Wow.”
The alcohol makes you laugh easily and loud. You have to take a moment to catch your breath before you can respond. “Okay, Jungkook!”
“What?” Jungkook is laughing now, too. “I can appreciate a nice ass, regardless of who it’s attached to!” There’s a pause as you both giggle and catch your breath. “But uh— please don’t share that at work.”
You extend your pinky first this time. “Promise.”
Jungkook smiles as he locks his finger with yours, then drops your hand. The song has ended, so he doesn’t have to talk quite so loud as he continues. “He really is talented, too.”
You nod. “Jimin was a trainee for a few years, but I think he’s a lot happier just dancing like this. It was a lot of pressure.”
Soft synths of the intro to the next song have already started to build, and when the beat kicks in, Jungkook’s eyes go wide, and he looks up with a grin. “Oh shit! I fucking love this song!”
You giggle. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before.”
He glances at you over the rim of his cup, his smile growing cocky. “Well, you’ve never gotten drunk with me before. The things you miss when you leave happy hour early.”
Your heart sinks a little at the memory, and you’re grateful Jungkook is already lost in his own world, bopping along to the upbeat song, so he doesn’t seem to notice the way your face falls. It’s like Yoongi has left fingerprints all over your life, and no matter what you do, you can’t get rid of them.
You take a long pull of your drink until you hit the bottom.
Jungkook is a welcome distraction to it all. By the final chorus of the song that you now recognize as an EXO cover, he’s fully gotten into it, unable to stand still and launching into some on-the-spot choreography. When he executes a dangerously well-performed body roll, your jaw drops.
“I think you missed your calling,” you shout over the music. “You should’ve been an idol!”
“Yeah?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, hips still moving fluidly. “Think I’d be as good as Kai?”
You nod. “Oh yeah. I can see it now.” You gesture as if reading off a magazine headline. “Heartthrob Jeon Jungkook. But they’d call you Baby Star Candy, of course.”
Jungkook smiles at you, striking a final deliberate pose for the last note of the song. “I thought I was Baby Goth now?”
You smirk as you correct him. “Only I’m allowed to call you that. Your army of fangirls will have to get in line.”
It’s like the lack of music backing him up makes him go shy, and you watch the way Jungkook’s cheeks flush, the way his nose scrunches when he laughs and waves the idea away. “I’m good. Think I’ll stick to TikTok.”
You giggle through another two drinks before the show is over, and as the dancers leave with a final wave, you cheer extra loud for Jimin until he glances your way and sticks his tongue out at you. When the house lights come up, you nod for Jungkook to follow you, making your way past more security to the back of the venue to meet Jimin at the stage door.
You can’t help but laugh a little in surprise when you round the corner to see a familiar face amidst the small group already waiting. Wonho is leaning up against the wall, looking hilariously small and nervous for how large his frame is, and clutching a bouquet of roses as red as his hair.
Biting your lip, you wave at him, and he waves back, but neither of you move to say anything else.
You can’t quite shake the embarrassment that comes with being reminded of the night you first met Wonho. Just another set of stupid Yoongi fingerprints.
Jimin emerges from the stage door a few minutes later, unceremoniously dropping the dance bag slung over his arm when his eyes land on Wonho waiting for him.
“Aw, baby!” Jimin pouts in disbelief as he accepts the roses, only to then immediately be swept up into a bridal carry. He squeaks when Wonho effortlessly lifts him off the ground. 
You roll your eyes despite the smile that creeps across your face. “You two are ridiculous.”
Jimin shoots you a sour look. “Can you let me have a whirlwind romance for once in my damn life, please?” He takes Wonho’s face in both hands to kiss him squarely on the mouth.
Jungkook is clearly still processing all of this, radiating ‘confused but happy to be here’ energy as he scoops Jimin’s abandoned dance bag off the floor to carry it over his shoulder.
Jimin sideeyes Jungkook as he pulls away. “And who is this man touching my stuff?”
Jungkook’s eyes widen, and he glances at the bag like maybe he should put it back down.
You reach up to smack Jimin on the arm. “Shut up. This is my friend and coworker, Jungkook. Be nice to him.”
“I’m not going to be nice to anyone until I get some fucking food,” Jimin snaps. His toes point as he kicks his feet daintily in Wonho’s arms, a dancer through and through. “Can we go eat now?”
Your first stop is a restaurant near the venue where you order a metric ton of brisket at Jimin’s demand. While Wonho and Jungkook easily destroy most of it between the two of them, your best friend still seems to have enough to improve his mood. It probably helps that Wonho hand-feeds the majority of it to him.
When he’s not gazing adoringly at his boyfriend, Jimin is attempting to communicate with you using solely his eyes, which keep darting over to Jungkook, his brows lifting in a silent question.
You tighten your jaw and do your best to subliminally shake your head without attracting Jungkook’s attention. Thankfully Jungkook doesn’t seem to remember that there’s anything else in the world except his plate of food.
Jimin narrows his gaze at you, his universal signal for “we’ll discuss this later”, and dread floods in the pit of your stomach.
Sure enough, when you finish your meal and move to a table at the bar down the street, Jimin sweetly suggests that Wonho and Jungkook go together to grab the first round of drinks, giving no indication that he has any sort of ulterior motive. They shrug and nod, Jungkook immediately starting to quiz Wonho on his protein intake as they depart.
Jimin pounces as soon as you’re alone again. “I’m sorry, you’re having a sordid office sex affair with a coworker and you’re telling me it’s not this man?!”
You roll your eyes. “No, Jimin.”
Jimin sucks his teeth, clearly unimpressed. “I thought I raised you better than this. I’m about to make him my hot goth girlfriend if you don’t.”
“You literally have a boyfriend.”
His brows pinch together, like he’s confused why that matters. “Wonho would love a third. He can barely keep up with me. But don’t change the subject.” He leans forward, arms folded on the table as he stares you down. “Babygirl, why on earth are you wasting your time fucking a man you don’t like, when you clearly have some very nice alternatives available to you?”
“I’m not doing that anymore,” you scowl. “The correct number of coworkers I should be fucking is zero.” It feels like Jimin’s gaze is drilling right to the depths of your soul, and you press your face into your hands as alcohol loosens your lips and the guilt overflows. “…Even though the actual number of coworkers I fucked today is one.”
“Bitch!” Jimin’s hand smacks loud against the wood grain, enough to make you flinch a little. “You have got to be fucking joking!”
You shake your head silently into your palms.
“At the office?!”
You nod pathetically for a few moments before dropping your arms down on the table with a whine, your forehead quickly following. “I don’t even know what happened. It’s like when I’m around him my brain malfunctions.”
Jimin goes uncharacteristically silent, and when you dare to peek up at him, his lips are pursed slightly as if in thought. “Are you sure you hate him?”
The question makes you sit back up. “What does that mean?”
He shrugs, feigning innocence. “I don’t know, it’s just... if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that kinda sounds like a crush.”
You instantly make a face of disgust. “What?! No. Absolutely not. I know I hate him. He’s a nightmare. He’s cocky and insufferable—”
“So am I,” Jimin interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest. “And you love me.”
You open your mouth to argue back, but he lifts a single finger to quiet you.
“I’m not done.” He pauses, and there’s an immediate sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. “What I see right now—” Jimin gestures in the direction of the bar “—is a fit, handsome, and seemingly very nice man who has spent the whole night looking at you like you put the fucking stars in the sky. And yet here you are, still talking about Suga, like you’ve been doing nonstop for the last month, who apparently has such a hold on you that he can make your panties drop during business hours. Yet I’m supposed to believe you hate him? This math is not mathing, love.”
It’s only when he stops talking that you realize your pulse is racing.
“Jimin,” you breathe. You double-blink, hot all over with a rush of sudden shame, trying to will away the sting at the corners of your eyes. “That’s not fair.”
Jimin’s gaze stays locked on yours as he refuses to back down even an inch. “Answer me this: would you be reacting this way if you really did hate him?”
Your jaw drops in disbelief, but you only get a beat of silence to attempt to process your best friend’s comments before Jungkook is thudding a glass of beer on the table in front of you.
“Sorry that took a second! It’s busy tonight,” Jungkook says brightly as Wonho moves around to the remaining open seat. “What were you guys talking about?”
Jimin fixes Jungkook in a blank stare. “Menstruation,” he replies flatly, not missing a beat.
You cling to your drink for dear life as the conversation continues on around you, and you do your best to smile and nod while you try not to replay Jimin’s words back a million times in your mind. But it’s a losing battle.
As your head spins, you run through the list of things you know to be true. Min Yoongi is your coworker. Min Yoongi is unquestionably an asshole. Min Yoongi has, since your very first day, embarrassed you, belittled you, lied to you, even threatened your job. Min Yoongi has never shown an ounce of evidence that he cares for you in any way. Your eyes flit aimlessly around the room as you try to think. Min Yoongi is—
Your heart drops into your gut. Min Yoongi is sitting at the end of the bar.
It’s not real.
This can’t be real, you tell yourself. It’s just the long, strange day and several drinks you’ve had working together to play tricks on your brain.
You blink hard, willing Yoongi’s face to morph back into that of some stranger, but when you open your eyes again, he’s just as real, exactly the same as before.
Except for the fact that he’s now staring at you.
Yoongi’s mouth goes slack, like he’s coming to the same realization as you— that the two of you have managed to find yourselves in the same place at the same time, completely by chance.
You stand up so fast you nearly knock your drink over. All three heads at the table swivel to look at you, and Jungkook speaks first.
“You okay?”
“Uh, y-yeah, yes,” you stammer unconvincingly. “Just gonna grab another beer.” Your eyes glance back up to search for Yoongi again, but they don’t immediately catch sight of him, and you don’t dare look for too long.
“You still have half of this one left,” Jimin remarks dryly.
Your gaze returns to your drink and you choose the first option that occurs to you: you down the rest in one swig and slam the empty glass on the table. All three pairs of eyes on you go wide.
“I’ll get another one for everyone, be right back!” You grit your teeth in something that you hope approximates a smile, then start to head for the bar, your heart already racing with anticipation.
After a few steps, a hand on the small of your back startles you, enough to make you freeze in place.
When you look over your shoulder, you see it’s Jungkook, also on his feet and right behind you. “Do you want help with the drinks?” He leans into your ear to ask the question, probably to be heard over the din of the bar. Your head is spinning from the rush of alcohol and from getting to your feet so fast. You don’t remember Jungkook smelling this good, or his voice being this low.
You turn to face him to answer and wow, now he’s really close. You sway slightly, a little unsteady on your feet, as your eyes meet his and your face flushes. “Oh, uh— no, I’m okay. But thanks, JK.”
There’s an extra second where neither of you say anything, Jungkook’s hand still pressed to your back, warm against the thin fabric of your dress. Then he nods and turns to head back to the table.
Your brain can hardly hold space for anything else as you spin towards the bar again, trying to catch sight of Yoongi through the crowd of people that only seems to have grown in the last few minutes. You weave through the mass of bodies with a combination of mildly polite apologies and stubborn determination, until you make it all the way up to the bar—
—where there is absolutely no sign of Yoongi. Gone without a trace, the barstool where you swear you just saw him now left empty.
You squeeze your eyes shut and exhale, willing your pulse to return to a normal pace. Maybe it was just your imagination, a trick of the light, a side-effect of an alcohol-dizzy brain and all this overthinking. Maybe you didn’t actually see what you thought you saw. Maybe…
It’s only when your eyes flutter open that you notice it. A nearly full glass of whiskey sitting abandoned on the bar, directly in front of the empty stool.
Before you can even think about why you’re doing it, you’re moving again, now fully shoving your way through the crowd of people until your palms find the glass of the front door and push hard. You stumble out of the bar, the cold night air like a slap to the face as you belatedly realize you left your jacket slung over the back of your chair.
Wrapping your arms around yourself with a shiver, you step out properly onto the sidewalk. Groups of passersby part down the middle to walk around you, and if they shoot you dirty looks, you miss them entirely. Your head whips one way, then the other, looking for— you’re not even sure what. A flash of familiarity, maybe, a glimpse of something, anything. If only just for reassurance that you didn’t make it all up.
Someone calls your name.
You spin around, your pulse thudding in your ears, only to belatedly realize it’s coming from the entrance of the bar, where Jungkook is standing, holding the door half-open as he leans through.
“What are you doing?” He steps out, letting the door fall shut behind him as he crosses to you. You don’t know why something in your gut twists, why you’re suddenly hit with the urge to scream at him. Didn’t you tell him not to follow you?
Jungkook continues when you don’t respond, his brow pinched with concern. “What’s wrong? Why are you out here?”
The question feels impossible to answer. You can’t think straight enough to make sense of any of it— why you went after Yoongi, what you planned to do when you caught up to him, why it even matters to you at all that he was here tonight.
Jimin’s words echo in your skull, deafening.
“I—” you stammer, giving the only answer you can. “I don’t know.”
A gust of cold air makes you shudder hard, and Jungkook’s hands have suddenly closed over yours on your upper arms, dry heat against your icy skin.
“It’s freezing out here,” he murmurs, clearly still confused. He shifts to wrap an arm around you, pulling you into his side, and you don’t fight it. 
Emotional exhaustion takes over, and as you allow Jungkook to lead you back inside, you do your best not to think about anything at all.
~*~
The weekend blinks by far too quickly, and the dread of Monday morning looms over you, all the little moments from Friday stacked like a heavy weight in the pit of your stomach.
You don’t hear from Jimin after Jungkook drops you off that night, and you’re too stubborn to text first, secretly hoping he’ll make the first move and apologize for reading you for filth unprovoked. But considering how busy he’s been with rehearsals leading up to the show, you doubt he and Wonho leave his bedroom all weekend.
Which means that when Monday morning comes, you have to face it alone.
Thankfully, you have no shortage of work to distract yourself with, so you try to keep your head down and focus, flitting between meetings, calls, spreadsheets, emails, paperwork, slide decks. You make polite conversation with Jungkook as always, but you keep it brief. When you take lunch at your desk, you tell yourself it’s just because you’re busy. That’s all.
You work and you work and you desperately try not to think about anything else. Your coworkers slowly start to trickle out as the day wraps up, but you barely pay them any mind, only half-heartedly returning the farewells called over their shoulders as they push through the glass doors.
When you finally sit back, it’s only because your vision is burning from endless screen time. You’re not even sure you’ve remembered to blink. You press your face into your hands to give your weary eyes a break, before glancing at the clock, eyes widening at the realization that it’s already past seven.
A wave of anxiety floods your veins as it occurs to you that you haven’t seen Yoongi leave yet— you would’ve noticed. You set your jaw as you reach for your phone.
Are you still here?
The response is nearly immediate.
Presentation room.
Better than his damn office, you think to yourself, and then two more texts pop up.
Need more time.
A lot more.
Fucking hell.
You shove your chair back and get to your feet, acting on impulse more than anything else. As you storm down the hallway, you will yourself not to be reminded of shoving through the crowded bar and stumbling into the street Friday night. You were just drunk, and surprised. This is different. It has to be.
You bang open the door to the presentation room with enough force to surprise even yourself.
“Now, Yoongi,” you snap.
He’s seated in the chair behind the podium at the front of the room, slouched over his laptop, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Despite your dramatic entrance, he doesn’t so much as glance up.
“Just give me like, ten minutes.” He winces at the screen of his computer. “Maybe twenty.”
You cross your arms in frustration. “Some of us are tired, Yoongi.”
At this, his head snaps up. “Well, some of us got tapped to give a fucking presentation to the visiting overseas team. Tomorrow!”
You take a step back, your eyes widening at his tone. You haven’t heard him genuinely raise his voice like this— not since the argument during your very first team meeting.
“Not like I don’t have shit that I’m supposed to be working on,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, eyes returning to squint at his laptop. You notice now that it’s connected to the screen at the front of the room, and you can see him scrolling through the slides of a presentation, pausing occasionally to add in speaking notes.
You blink, trying to keep up. “Why did they tap you?”
“A great question,” he huffs. “Apparently they’re curious about who the producer with the Grammy nomination is. I’m being asked to do a ‘high-level timeline of my career and accomplishments’. Guess these assholes haven’t heard of Wikipedia.”
“That’s… stupid.”
Yoongi looks up again, his mouth dropping open slightly, like he wasn’t expecting that response. He finally manages to speak as his gaze jumps back down to his slides. “Thank you. That’s what I said. I tried to get out of it, but it appears I am being forced.”
“I didn’t think you could be forced to do anything.”
“You’d be surprised,” he mumbles under his breath, paired with a dry laugh. “I’ve been forced into dealing with your ass, haven’t I?” His eyes don’t move from the screen.
A smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth before you can stop it, and you step further into the space. The room is set up with three large, unnecessarily fancy tables, reclaimed wood, arranged in a U shape facing the podium and screen at the front of the room.
Taking your time, you cross behind the tables and head for the seat furthest away from the podium, dead center. When you get there, rather than pull the chair out, you spin around to sit your ass on the wooden surface, turning in a half-circle so that your legs dangle off the edge, palms flat on either side of you.
You stare Yoongi down from across the room as he continues to fiddle with his laptop. “Let’s hear it, then.” When his eyes find yours, you tilt your head to the side expectantly. “It’s good to practice with an audience. You should be thanking me.”
For a moment, you think he might try to argue with you, but to your surprise, he gets to his feet with a resigned sigh. He presses a button on his laptop, and the presentation goes full-screen, flipping back to the first slide.
His mouth tightens as his fingertips grip the wooden edge of the podium.
“Good morning everyone, my name is Min Yoongi. I’m also known by my producer pseudonym, Suga.” His deep voice is monotone, edged rough like gravel, like there’s nothing he’d rather be doing less.
You fold your arms again, surveying Yoongi carefully as he continues. Your eyes widen in surprise when only a few sentences in, he outright trips over his words, stuttering an impressive amount before he manages to get back on track. His gaze remains at a fixed point on the floor, unmoving, and he speaks like his presentation is one endless sentence, without so much as a pause.
“Stop,” you call from your spot opposite him. The command comes out louder than you expect.
Yoongi’s head snaps up again, but to his credit, he stops talking.
“Start over,” you say simply. “Remember to breathe this time.”
Yoongi blinks once, twice, then silently taps through his slides to the beginning. You hear him take a tentative inhale before he starts. “Good morning everyone, my name is Min Yoongi.”
He takes it slower this time, getting past where you stopped him before, until a moment where he falls silent. You see his face twist slightly as color blooms in the apples of his cheeks. “Uh, shit. I forgot what my next thing was. Fuck, hang on.” He fumbles with the trackpad of his laptop, and you huff a laugh of disbelief.
“Oh my god.” You can’t quite manage to bite back your smile. “You do have a weakness.”
“I just hate presentations,” Yoongi sighs, his mouth pulling up into a flat line. “The whole point of being a producer is that I can stay in my studio and not have to deal with people.”
Your fingers tap against the edge of the table, intrigued. You’ve never seen him like this before. “You just need to fucking relax, Yoongi.”
“You say that like that’s something I know how to do,” he mutters, so low you wonder if you were supposed to hear it.
You’re on your feet and crossing the room before you can second-guess the thought. Yoongi glances up with a face that reads mild confusion, and the expression only deepens when you place both hands on his chest and firmly shove him. As he’s clearly not expecting it, it’s enough of a push to knock him off-balance, and he has to take a few steps back to steady himself.
“What are y—” The question dies in Yoongi’s throat as you sink to your knees in front of him. He’s moved just slightly out of reach, and you gaze up at him through your lashes and beckon him towards you with a single finger.
He steps forward as if drawn in, like a moth to a flame.
If there’s a part of you that tells you to pause and think about this before you do it, you can’t hear it over the deafening silence in the room. And the last thing you want to do right now is think.
Close enough to touch now, you flatten your palms to slide up the smooth fabric of Yoongi’s joggers, teasing your fingers over the waistband when you get there. You glance at him again, half expecting him to tell you to stop, but his only response is the jerk of his adam's apple in a hard swallow.
A thrill runs through you at the idea of doing this here, perfectly hidden behind the podium.
“Start from the beginning again,” you instruct, your voice low and even. “If you can do it like this, you can do it tomorrow.”
A muscle in Yoongi’s jaw jumps, and he nods almost imperceptibly. You don’t move an inch until he inhales and starts over. His voice isn’t quite as steady this time. “Good morning everyone, my name is Min Yoongi.”
With a self-satisfied smirk, you hook your fingers under both his joggers and boxers at once and firmly push them down. His dick has only barely started to harden, which makes sense, given his nerves and your wholly unexpected ambush.
The thought of feeling his cock grow in your mouth, get heavy on your tongue, makes arousal start to pool in your gut.
He’s still talking, hasn’t even stumbled once yet, so you reward him with a finger curled under the head of his dick, lifting it up to be flush with his stomach. You take your time as you drag your tongue up his exposed shaft, laid flat against the prominent veins there. When you reach the tip, you shift to grip him at the base so you can kitten lick at his frenulum, purposefully teasing.
Yoongi just barely manages to disguise his groan as a cough, and you pull back, smirking a little. “What was that?”
He exhales, clearly trying to regain focus as he continues where he left off. “I have over 100 KOMCA credits as a songwriter and producer.” You hum approvingly and take him into your mouth. 
As you hollow your cheeks and begin to suck, you can feel the way he swells to stretch you, pulsing warm, and it only encourages you. Your hands move to grip at his thighs, and when you take him deeper, head bobbing steadily, you taste the salt of his precum as he starts to drip.
You let your tongue loll out past your bottom lip to lap further down his shaft, and this time there’s no questioning the sound he makes: a distinct, breathy whimper. It’s enough to coax a wicked smile out of you, and you have to pull off his cock briefly to keep from gagging. You pause to admire the way it shines, glossed wet with your drool.
Your lips chase after him almost immediately, sucking just the tip in, and you swirl your tongue over it in lazy, sloppy circles.
Yoongi is clearly struggling to keep his composure now. “I was the first— oh, fuck.” He cuts himself off with a proper moan when you take him down as far as you can without warning. He hits the back of your throat and you keep him there, forcing yourself to swallow, your throat spasming around his length as you choke on it.
He tries again. “The f-first artist to win MAMA's 'Best Collaboration' award— m-multiple times.”
You finally pull off to gasp for air, a few strings of spit still connecting his now leaking-hard cock to your lips. Yoongi makes another soft noise at the loss, and you gaze up at him as you pant, reveling in the look of near-distress on his face.
“Finish the presentation,” you purr, your voice slightly hoarse from having just shoved his cock down your throat.
Yoongi’s eyes squeeze shut as he continues, and you lean forward, taking him into your mouth again tongue-first. You waste no time sucking him back into the tight clutch of your throat, and your fingertips dig bruises into the skin of his thighs to keep him from bucking his hips up.
You refuse to relinquish control. Not yet.
His hands cup the back of your head like he’s clinging on for dear life as he keeps trying to get the words out. “T-the collaboration netted me my first fuck—ing Grammy nomination. I— nnh— look forward to attending the ceremony in person next week, and I— I-I feel confident about our chances for success. Shit.” 
With this, you realize that he’s made it all the way through his talking points, and you pull off his dick with a wet pop.
“There,” you smirk, pausing to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before getting to your feet again. The steady pulse between your legs is hard to ignore. “Was that so hard?”
“God dammit,” Yoongi’s voice is heady and dark as he steps in to close the distance between you. “I need to fuck you.”
You quirk an eyebrow, a little surprised by the bold statement. “Need?”
There’s a flash of something in his eyes that makes your cunt clench. “Get on the fucking table.”
Even as you follow his order, you can’t shake the feeling of still being in control, nor the smug satisfaction earned from making this man come undone so very easily. You hike your dress up slightly before perching on the table closest to the front of the room, your teeth raking over your bottom lip in anticipation.
Yoongi’s already standing in front of you, and his hands slide under your hips to firmly drag your ass to the edge of the table. In two swift movements he shoves your dress further up your thighs, then hooks his fingers under the lace of your panties and pulls them down, tugging them off one ankle entirely and leaving them to dangle from the other.
It’s only when your legs drop open that his hurried pace slows. He pauses, with a soft hum.
You inhale sharply when he lifts a hand up to brush over you. His fingers press against your folds in a V shape, teasingly pulling your pussy lips apart. Just the small motion is already enough to earn him a slick noise.
“Or,” he murmurs, “maybe I should repay the favor?”
Your chest constricts at the thought when you realize what he means. Going down on you, here, in a conference room, where anyone could technically walk in and see. It’s after hours, but you didn’t lock the front door— it’s not unheard of for someone to forget something at the office and double-back for it. It feels too luxurious, too dangerous. In more ways than one.
“We don’t have time, Yoongi.” Your hands fist in his shirt to pull him closer, and he steps in between your spread legs. “Just fuck me.”
The look on his face makes you wonder if you’re missing out. “Suit yourself.”
He fumbles into the pocket of his still pushed-down joggers to retrieve his wallet and fish out the condom tucked inside. A shiver runs up your spine as he tears it open and rolls it over his length.
Yoongi glances up at you when it’s all the way on, one hand pressing into the table behind you for leverage as he uses the other to line himself up with your entrance. It’s only now that you realize how very close to you he is. You’ve never done this face-to-face before.
With no prep, the stretch of him is nearly overwhelming when he pushes in, and you gasp. Yoongi stops when you do, only the very tip of him nudged inside of you.
“Hurts?”
“Not in the bad way,” you murmur, and he pushes in a little further, slow enough that you can feel every inch of him working your pussy open. Your fingers grip the edge of the table and dig in hard as you whimper at the sensation.
“That’s it, fuck.” Yoongi gives a grunt of effort as you take the last of him, until he’s pressed in to the hilt, your cunt clenched tight around him, your walls already fluttering softly from the pressure. You’re both breathing heavy as his hips momentarily still.
It takes you by surprise when his hand shifts to grab your jaw, tilting your gaze up to meet his. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he surveys you for a moment.
“Say it again,” he murmurs.
You swallow hard. “Fuck me.”
With the hint of a smirk, he starts to move. He rolls his hips to drag his cock nearly all the way out, then fucks it in again in one heavy stroke, angled perfectly to hit your g-spot. Your eyes roll back in your head.
“God, Yoongi,” you whine when he does it again, and again. “We— nnh, we shouldn’t be doing this.”
The hand on your jaw grips tighter. “Not even a lock on the door. Anyone could walk in and see.” Your cunt throbs at the low growl of his voice. “Do you want to stop?”
“N-no,” you groan as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, enough to make you dizzy. His hand slides down to splay broad over the column of your throat. “Please don’t fucking stop.” 
“Yeah?” He grunts, dark and raw, his grip tightening slightly. “Want it that bad?”
Your legs hook around his hips to urge him deeper, harder. “Need it.” Your voice is hardly more than a whisper from the pressure of his hand. You blink up at him, your eyes searching his— for what, you’re not sure.
“Need,” Yoongi breathes a laugh, more air than sound. “Makes two of us.”
Desperate for an anchor, you reach up and wrap your arms over his shoulders to pull him into you. Your mind is reeling with the adrenaline rush of doing something so reckless, and you press your bodies together until your noses bump with every stroke of his cock fucking into you. His parted lips are so close to yours now, you swear you can feel electricity sparking in the barely-there space between.
You feel like a live wire, like every sensation is amplified a thousandfold. Yoongi releases his grip on your throat to slip the same hand between his hips and yours, and his fingers circling your clit are enough to send you over the edge, fast.
“Yoongi,” you gasp into his mouth, your hands clawing at his shoulders as the pleasure builds until it’s too much, and your thighs start to shake. “Just like that, oh fuck, Yoongi, I-I’m gonna—”
“Come.” His lips brush against yours when he says it, a touch so light it could’ve been an accident.
You throw your head back with a strangled sob as your orgasm rips through you, and he leans into you, forehead dropping down against your collarbone, clearly close behind.
“God,” Yoongi groans hoarsely as his hips start to rut even faster. You’re so lost in pleasure, you can barely process that he’s speaking. “What are you doing to me?”
It only takes a few more thrusts and then he’s coming too, your cunt still spasming around him, both of his palms pressing flat to the table behind you as his voice breaks on a wordless rough-edged gasp.
You stay pressed into one another as you come down from the high together, all flushed skin and shaky breaths. Yoongi shifts first, lifting his head off your shoulder, and you take the cue to unwrap your arms from around his neck. It’s a slow, strained untangling, his spent cock starting to soften inside of you.
“Alright,” Yoongi still sounds breathless as he pulls out, and when he steps away, you reach down to tug your underwear back up over your hips.
Your saving grace is a box of tissues at the podium, and Yoongi makes short work of peeling the condom off, wrapping it in as many layers of tissues as he can before tucking it into the conference room trash can with a grimace. He uses a few more to clean himself up, then exhales a stream of air as he pulls his boxers and joggers back up.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
When you make it back to your desk, you pack your things up in a mindless haze. It’s only a minute or so after you finish that Yoongi emerges from his lab, and you follow after him out the glass front doors, neither of you speaking as you lock them from the outside.
The elevator ride down to the lobby is equally silent, until you step out and see gray-black stormy skies and a steady downpour of rain through the glass walls of the atrium.
“Shit,” you groan.
“Allergic to water?” Yoongi’s smug voice over your shoulder immediately makes your jaw clench.
“Shut up,” you snap. “I didn’t bring an umbrella, and the bus stop is a few blocks from my apartment. I’m gonna fucking drown.” Not that you care, you tack on silently.
“You take the bus?”
At this, you whip around to glare at him. “We’re not all millionaire music producers, you know.”
He shrugs, like you’re not wrong. “I can give you a ride. My car’s in the garage.”
Your eyebrows nearly shoot off your forehead, but Yoongi is already crossing to the elevator bank on the other side of the lobby. He presses the button, then looks back at you nonchalantly, like he’s just offered the most normal thing in the world.
Which, maybe it would be, under different circumstances. But there is absolutely nothing normal about your relationship with Min Yoongi.
As if to make the decision for you, a clap of thunder rumbles outside, so loud it feels like the building rattles. You swallow the last bit of dignity you have as you follow Yoongi into the garage elevator. Once the doors close, you can’t help but shoot him a look out of the corner of your eye, but his gaze is fixed on the indicator, watching the numbers tick down as you descend.
“Why are you being nice to me?” Your voice comes out harsher than you mean it to, and Yoongi turns his head to look at you, one eyebrow slightly raised.
“What does that mean?”
“Driving me home? We don’t do this.” You cross your arms over your chest, indignant. “As soon as the sex is done, you don’t want anything to do with me.”
You’re surprised when he laughs a little. “That’s funny.”
You narrow your eyes. “What’s funny?”
He stares at you pointedly, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek for a moment before he continues. “You say that, but if memory serves, you’re the one who keeps running away after.”
You open your mouth to respond, then close it, unsure of what to say. He’s not exactly wrong. Finally it comes back to you. “That’s not true. I saw you, on Friday, and I know you saw me. You left so fast you didn’t even finish your drink.”
Yoongi’s face scrunches up in a slight wince, like he’d rather not recall the moment.
“Yeah, well. That was different. I was trying to respect your privacy. Let you go on your date in peace.” He smirks slightly. “Though I guess it can’t have gone that well.”
You roll your eyes, your patience really starting to thin. “Jungkook and I are just friends, Yoongi.”
“Okay,” he says flatly. “In any case, I certainly didn’t plan to show up and ruin your night or anything. Just an unfortunate cosmic coincidence.”
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth for a second. “We seem to have a lot of those.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi sighs. “We do.”
The elevator doors slide open, and you lapse into silence again as you follow Yoongi to his car and slip into the passenger seat. After you give him your address and he plugs it into the GPS, there’s no sound at all other than the fall of rain and the swipe of his windshield wipers once you pull out of the garage.
You worry at your bottom lip until the words bubble up. “You don’t listen to music?”
Yoongi’s eyes flit from the road over to you for just a second, like he wasn’t expecting the question. “Uh, I— no, not really. I do that all day. I don’t mind the silence.” You take that as your cue to fall quiet. To your surprise, he keeps talking.
“You know, when I was a teenager, I had a part-time job at a music studio in Daegu.” He squints out the rainy windshield, like he’s recalling the memory. “I started making my own beats there, and I learned a lot of stuff that fueled my drive to be a producer.”
He glances at you again, and you nod, unsure where this is going.
“But, uh—” He huffs a laugh, like he’s embarrassed. “They didn’t pay me. Just kinda how things were back then, and I was too young to know better.” Stopped at a light now, Yoongi drums his fingers over the steering wheel. “I remember there were a lot of nights where I couldn’t afford both food and the bus ride home. If I wanted to eat, that meant a two hour walk home.”
Your jaw drops. “Jesus.”
Yoongi’s mouth presses into a flat line. “Yeah. Wasn’t easy.” There’s a heavy silence, and then he shrugs. “Anyway. Just made me think of it, when you said you take the bus. I haven’t thought about that in a long time.”
“Wow.”
The light changes color and he eases off the brake. You think maybe that’s all you’ll get, and then he nods. “It’s almost like I forget sometimes. That life isn’t still like that. It still feels like it could all get pulled out from under me any second.”
You hum as you take in his words. “And… that’s why you don’t know how to relax?”
The corner of his mouth turns up a little. “Pretty much.”
You can’t suppress the soft laugh that slips out, so you look out the passenger window, letting the sound flutter out to the rain-streaked glass. “Your villain origin story.”
When you glance back at him, a smile has stretched over the whole of Yoongi’s face, though his gaze is still fixed on the road. “Spoken like somebody who wants to walk home.”
There’s a gentle buzzing in your brain, and you wonder if it’s just a post-orgasm high. “Nice try, Min Yoongi,” you tease. “You don’t scare me anymore. I know you’re all empty threats now.”
His eyes flash, and in that moment his expression goes somewhere you can’t quite follow.
“Maybe so.”
The conversation lulls again, and you watch the rain fall fast and heavy on the car windshield, fat droplets scattered aside over and over by the relentless wiper blades.
Try as you might to not think about it, you can’t help but be hyper-aware of Yoongi sitting next to you. He drives one-handed, like it’s easy, his free arm resting on the center console between you. You can see the prominent veins of his hand in clear detail each time the car slips under the glow of a streetlight. Close enough to touch, if you wanted.
The silence has you counting your inhales. It occurs to you that this is the most time you’ve spent in such close proximity to Yoongi where you weren’t actively having sex. You don’t know what to make of it.
He turns into your apartment complex, pulling to a stop in front of your building when you point it out to him. You automatically reach for the door handle, then pause and turn back to look at him, figuring you should say something. “Uh, thanks. For the ride.”
Yoongi smirks. “Thanks for the public speaking lesson.”
You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling a little despite yourself. “I guess we’ll see tomorrow if it worked or not.”
“Guess so.”
There’s a pause, and your heart squeezes into your throat. You don’t know why it feels like you’re waiting for something to happen.
That thought alone is enough to spur you into action, and you quickly avert your gaze from Yoongi’s face. “Have a good night,” you murmur as you fumble open the door, grab your purse, and slip out of the car without waiting for a response.
As you climb the stairs to your apartment and hear the slick of Yoongi’s tires turning out of the complex, you can’t help but wonder if this counts as running away, too.
chapter six | masterlist | chapter eight
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writingjourney · 8 months
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Hi! I’ve had this thought swirling in my head for days and I HAVE to share before I go nuts with Secondo taking over 😂 I went to a bbq recently and all I could think of is all the Papas, ghouls and “Seestor”hosting one amongst themselves, and they’re allowed a plus one ofc, so Secondo takes you. He’s acting like his usual bitter old man self…and then gets jealous when others start staring at you, getting worse when you have your swimwear, and then he just ends up sitting you on his lap for a while. 🏃🏼‍♀️
Thank you for infesting my brain with this and activating my Secondo brain rot 😭
I wish I had the capacity rn to write a full thing for this but just... I need to add a little bit to it (under the read more bc I got carried away, gender-neutral reader):
I can imagine Secondo being the one who actually does the barbecueing and prepares the food or at least he quickly finds himself alone because everyone else acts like they don't know how to do it and besides, Terzo already brought the potato salad and there just isn't enough space in front of the grills for more than one person anyway, you know?
He'd mildly grumble about it but actually he enjoys taking care of everyone, feeling important and showing off his skills. At first you stay by his side even though you don't know how to help, he's very particular about how he does things, just so he's not all alone. However, you're quickly distracted by Terzo and the ghouls who are passing the time until dinner is ready by playing volleyball and doing all kinds of pool shenanigans. They get you to join and you soon find yourself laughing and giggling as they splash you with water or throw their beach balls at you.
At first Secondo is incredibly glad that you blend in so seamlessly, that no one even bats an eye at the fact that you're there with him and that they respect you as part of the family. But then the ghouls and ghoulettes get a little too comfy with you, a little too touchy, staring a little too hard at you in your scarce swimwear. He knows there is no reason to be jealous, he trusts you completely and he's not insecure when it comes to your love. The reason he gets jealous is that he finds himself wishing that he could be the one to make you laugh like this. Who brings out this carefree side of you and who holds you close while the cool water softly sways around you.
This quickly leads to him missing your company and wanting to be close to you and he's quite over this barbecue all of a sudden but of course he can't let the food burn, neither does he want to spoil your fun when he knows he's just being silly, so he just watches from afar and observes the situation. He only snaps out of it when Terzo shows up and asks him if he plans to serve any ghoul meat tonight because the intensity of his death stares surely has to be lethal.
Secondo only relaxes when you all sit down to eat and he finds himself right beside you again. His hand never leaves your thigh, it's actually quite impressive how he manages to eat a whole steak using just one hand. You praise his food of course, as do the others, and his mood improves – well, right until dinner is over and the ghouls and ghoulettes already try to drag you off again. This time, he's having none of it and the moment your butt leaves the garden chair you find yourself pulled back by two strong hands that wrap around your waist. He pulls you right into his lap, firm hands on your front pushing you into his groin as his lips press to your neck in a wet kiss. You can't help but chuckle because you know exactly what prompted it and you don't mind spending time with your love after all the excitement from earlier. You place your hands on his, engaging in the conversation he's falling into with his brothers. There's certainly worse things than sitting in Secondo's lap for the rest of the night ♡
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