#☕️ - coffee break | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jujutsubaby · 2 months

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Hiiii! I would like have a coffee at the Heaven and Earth cafe! If possible, could I get a mocha latte with soy milk and a kouign amann on the side? Pretty please and thank you 🙏

a/n: thank you for your ask and for participating 🥹 i appreciate it sooo much and i love your order! chocolate + buttery pastries are to die for 😇

✨ WELCOME TO CAFE HEAVEN & EARTH ! ✨

🤍 PAIRING. yuta

🤍 WORD COUNT. 1.4k (sorry anon i got too carried away with this lol)

ugh, you only had 15 minutes to quickly grab your drink and a bite to eat before your 8 AM stats lecture with the notoriously strict professor kusakabe. yeah, sure you could’ve probably avoided this if you had just slept at a normal time, but alas, you were hell bent on finishing one more episode of your favorite trashy real-estate focused reality tv show. but no worries, cafe heaven & earth is known for its efficiency and speed.

that’s what you thought to yourself 8 minutes ago, when you thought you would be out of there by now. instead, right after you gave your order, you noticed the long line of people waiting for their orders. you try your best to overhear their conversations so as to better understand what was happening

“i heard there’s a disturbance in the kitchen.” “who told you that?” “i dunno, some guy with white hair came out and said it?” crap. you don’t have time for this. you frantically look at your watch, as the aforementioned white haired man came out of the kitchen nonchalantly and made an announcement. “sorry folks, there’s gonna be a delay on everyone’s orders due to a disturbance in the kitchen.”

everyone murmurs but no one says anything, but you’ve had enough. “what’s the disturbance? how long will this take? i’m in a bit of a hurry, actually.” the white haired man takes a quick glance at you and says “there’s just a disturbance. thanks.”

dumbfounded, you’re not even sure how to respond to…his lack of response? you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to figure out if it was worth just leaving right now and risking the entire class hearing your stomach rumble, or getting chewed out by professor kusakabe. your thoughts are interrupted by a soft voice from beside you.

“running late?” your head shoots up, and you find that the owner of the voice is a young man around your age wearing crisp black jeans and a high-necked white sweater. you’re slightly annoyed. you don’t really have the time to chit chat with a stranger right now. “uh, yeah, kinda.” you say curtly. you notice that he’s a little taller than you, with gentle features befitting his polite voice. his black hair falls in his large dark blue eyes in neat curtains. most notably, though, you see prominent shadows underneath his eyes. he must also be a student.

“what class?”

“stats”

“shit, stats 153? with kusakabe?” he grimaces none too subtly.

your stomach drops. great, so you are gonna get chewed out for being late. “yeah. how fucked am i if i show up late?” he pretends to think before saying “well, depends. do you like having to explain in excruciating detail to the entire hall exactly what you were doing last night that made you late for an 8am? since that’s what he made us do when i had him last year.” hell no. there’s no way in hell you’re gonna tell anyone you were up until 2am watching selling sunset.

the white-haired man re-emerges at that moment with an order that looks mercifully familiar. “soy mocha and kouign-amann for…” you approach the pickup counter in anticipation. the employee raises a doubtful eyebrow at you before reading a name off the receipt in his hand. “...yuta?” the stranger who was just speaking with you steps in front of you and grabs his order, flashing an awkward apologetic grin at you.

as if this day couldn’t get stranger. “uh, that’s my order…” you say, but you’re not so confident anymore. “sorry, i think it’s mine. been ordering this ever since this place opened.”

“i’ve been ordering that ever since this place opened,” you say defiantly. you’re not sure if this dude is playing some joke on you or what, but you definitely don’t have time for it.

“that’s interesting, but my name’s yuta,” he continues patiently, “so unless we also have the exact same name, i’m pretty sure this is mine this time.”

a quick glance at your watch – 5 minutes left. okay, plan aborted – people are just gonna have to deal with your noisy tummy today. “okay, well…” you’re not sure how to really say goodbye to him. “forget it. i’m just gonna get outta here. i’m late as it is…” you leave without glancing behind you as you speed walk to your lecture hall and it’s not until a couple seconds later you hear someone shouting behind you.

you turn to see…yuta? from the cafe? what’s he doing following you? oh god, is he a creep?! it suddenly occurs to your sleep-deprived mind that he might want to fight after you accidentally tried to steal his order, and you speed up.

“hey, wait! stop walking faster, geez! i’m trying to help you!” confused, you slow your pace, willing to hear him out. “what do you want?” you ask, wishing it didn’t come out as harshly as it did.

“well, i was just wondering…y’know, seeing as we apparently have the exact same order and are both about to be late to our respective classes…” yuta clears his throat. “wanna share while we walk?”

you're skeptical, but the kouign-amann was looking so delectable in his hands that you had to double check you weren’t drooling. it didn’t help that your stomach chose that exact time to elicit a god awful noise begging for food. you acquiesce. “yeah, i’d…i’d actually really like that.” you flash him a thankful smile as you both walk to class.

“so…how come you’re running late? you seem like the type who’d have it all together,” you ask, trying to break up the silence with some small talk. you look up again at his eye bags. “up late studying, i bet?”

“hardly,” yuta answers sheepishly. “this show i’m hopelessly hooked on just dropped its new season on netflix…

you burst out laughing at the image of the polite, perfect yuta falling victim to a netflix binge. “no way, me too! what show? no, let me guess. black mirror or something?”

yuta looks at his feet and mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like selling sunset. no way. feeling just a tiny bit of sadistic glee at his embarrassment, you ask him to repeat himself.

“all right, all right! it was selling sunset! i just can’t stay away…i need to know what those ladies get up to!”

maybe it’s the way he’s blushing or your sleep deprivation, but something possesses you to reach out and pat his arm comfortingly. “don’t be ashamed,” you reassure. “only the greatest of intellectual minds can handle christine’s character arc.”

yuta gapes at you, before his eyes crinkle into a soft laugh. oh…he’s kinda cute, isn’t he…

you pass the rest of the walk discussing the off-the-rails drama of the new season as you alternate taking bites of sugary-sweet pastry and sips of mocha, and you find that you’re having a good enough time that you’re not even thinking about the reaming you’re due for in stats lecture.

soon enough, you’re outside your lecture hall, and it’s time to part ways. you sigh, knowing you’re not prepared to go in 10 minutes late. “well, this is me. right before i get my ass handed to me…”

“don’t worry, he always makes the assignments way harder than the actual tests” yuta reassures you with a bright smile. damn, he’s not kinda cute. he is cute.

“yeah, but stats just isn’t my best subject,” you say dejectedly. “i’m only taking it because i need to for my major but at this point, i dunno how i’m gonna pass the class without some divine intervention or a tutor or somethin’.” you hope yuta takes the hint.

“oh, yeah, well, if you want, i can…i can help you. i quite liked the class when i took it last year,” he says bashfully.

“really?” your eyes beam at him. “here, gimme your phone, i’ll text you about a study session, if you’re down?”

“yeah, of course!” yuta is doing an awful job of hiding the blush in his cheeks as you put your contact in his phone. “i’ll definitely need help come midterms.” you hand his phone back to him. “by the way, didn’t you say you have class? shouldn’t you…” you gesture at another lecture hall nearby yours, and he nervously scoffs.

“oh, yeah, i do, but it’s the one near northside.” northside? like the-other-side-of-campus northside? you’re confused as to why he’s even here right now. “wait, what? you’re gonna be so late for class! why did you even come here?”

yuta fidgets with his fingers, doing an awful job of maintaining eye contact with you. “it’s well…i dunno, i just thought maybe being a couple minutes late so i could share my kouign-amann with a cute girl might be worth it.”

#100 #☕️ - coffee break #🪅 - pree's follower events #yuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #yuta x reader

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yuutaguro · 5 months

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midday coffee break ☕️ [from 2021]

#drew this for his bday that year #one of my first fully rendered nanas that i still treasure #my art #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanart

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nmjoo-n · 2 years

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FADE INTO YOU ☕️ jeon jungkook.

pair. barista! jungkook x f. reader | genre. friends with benefits, romance, jealousy, angst | warnings. possessiveness, profanity, pet names, unprotected sex, slight toxic behavior, degradation kink, zenophilia, oral sex, edging, spit kink, exhibitionism, smoking | word count. 4.7k

synopsis. “oh angel, for how fucking adorable you are, you sure don’t use that pretty little brain of yours much,” or jungkook has no limits when it comes to you. you’re his, he’s gonna get it through your head, eventually.

You dared bring another fucking guy in his work place.

Was it deliberate? God knows you love your little fucking mind games, especially if Jungkook’s on the receiving end. Oh, he was beyond furious. He had half a mind o spit in the fuckers coffee and smugly watch as he drinks that shit, completely unaware as he desperately tries to shove his tongue down your throat after that, one date in.

But you’d know. You were always better at reading him, deciphering the different expressions on his face. He ought to bruise your fucking ass for this, spank you till you’re dripping wet for him, and then shove his cock in your mouth, facefuck you until your stupid hole is sore, and your cunt is clenching for no one but him.

What a pathetic loser. What the fuck did you see in this clown?

“Dude, you’re shaking. You okay?” Jimin nudges him with his elbow, raising a questioning eyebrow, black hair falling in his curious eyes.

Jungkook shakes his head, and removes his apron angrily, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and phone with him. He knows he’s being unreasonable; you’re single, and beautiful, God so fucking beautiful it physically hurts him, and he’s just the lucky guy that gets to fuck you whenever you’re up for it, nothing more, nothing less. A supporting character. Fuck, he knows. But his feelings are for him, they’re private, and right now they’re out of fucking control.

The urge to punch your date in the throat is driving him up a wall. He needs to get the fuck away from here—away from you and your innocent, ignorant ways. Deep breaths, deep fucking breaths Jeon, she hasn’t fucked him yet, and don’t you dare picture that, don’t be a fucking dick, walk away, walk away now.

“I’m going on break,” he announces, but he’s already on the other side of the counter, going for the door, hands busy with the lighter you gifted him on his birthday.

You’ve said your hello’s, you exchanged the necessary, polite words you do every time you see each other in public so there’s nothing else to say. He doesn’t look at you as he passes by, can’t bear to. There’s nothing else you could possibly want with him, not unless it’s after hours, behind closed bedroom doors. Or bathroom ones—or rooftops, staircases, couches, balconies, the beach that one time, his car, the steering wheel digging into your lower back, just last week—no.

Not fucking going there.

Sitting on the ledge right outside the shop, he puts the cig in his mouth, bringing that silver lighter close to it, lighting the edge of it. Taking an inhale of the stick between his fingers, he feels the harmful calm it produces overtake him for the first time that day. He needed nicotine like he needed your pussy pressed against his face, especially since you walked in with that lame looking motherfucker after you told him you’d call.

You never did.

Jungkook doesn’t want to be this way; he never used to curse this much, smoke this much, not before he met you. You’ve tested him in every possible way a man can be tested, have haunted his every waking thought, have wrapped him around your pretty fucking finger and are twirling him around in a never ending, whiplash inducing dance out of which there’s no escape. He’d do anything for you, be anything for you, god he already has, but you couldn’t care less. There was no love in you for him—not the kind he has for you.

Trust him, he wishes he could cut all ties with you, forget you. Stop loving you so goddamn much. But there’s no button for that, no way he can get out of his own body, discard his heart.

Goddamn him, his fucking dick is hard just with the proximity of you. Knowing you were near, having smelled your perfume earlier, the sweetness of your scent mixed with vanilla and something floral, something he’s only smelled on you, and that cursed mini skirt, fuck him, with those legs of yours… legs he’s had wrapped around his torso, over his shoulders, legs he’s kissed a thousand times over, has run his hands over, has worshipped.

No, you couldn’t do this to him. This is the last time you fuck him over, the last time he lets you—he’s going to put you in your fucking place, he decides. He’s going to have to show you who’s been there for you, who fucks you dumb, senseless—who’s cock you’ve been screaming for over and over again, who’s cum you’re craving down your throat almost every night.

Who you belong to. Because fuck anyone that dares so much as think they can have you. You’re his. He just has to get it through that thick head of yours, once and for all. Before he goes fucking insane.

Finishing his smoke, he ties his hair back and away from his face, getting off your Instagram page at once. Look at him, obsessing over your whereabouts, the tags on your pictures, who you’re with when he’s not with you. In you. Fucking ridiculous.

He goes to your last text conversation, a curt message from you two days ago at three in the morning. His eyes skim over it, reading it in your drunk voice, that delicious slur of your tongue, the way you must’ve slowly blinked at his texting you so late in the night. He wants you to think of him always, all goddamn day. As much as he does.

He wants you as obsessed as him.

[03:21am] just came home.

[03:22am] it’s late (y/n). go to sleep.

He decides to text you, then. Make sure you know he’s not going to let this go, that you’re taking it too far coming there, dressed like that, and with another man when his seed is still inside of you.

[19:07pm] is this my replacement? disappointed in you sweetheart.

If Jungkook’s good at anything—he knows how to get a good rise out of you. All that’s left is to sit patiently and wait. You’ll come to him, eventually. You always do.

A half an hour later, you’re standing in front of him, manicured nails digging into your crossed arms in barely contained anger.

He wipes his hands with a rug, giving Jimin the drinks he’d just made, completely ignoring your thunderous glaring. He feels those eyes pierce through his soul, though. How can he not—he’s never been very good at pretending, and God knows you demand all of his attention.

“Replacement? Really, Jungkook?”

Jimin looks between the two of you, sensing the tension. He’s always suspected there’s something going on, but that just confirmed it. Failing to hide his smirk, he balances the tray in one palm and fucks off to the last remaining table for the day.

“Am I wrong?” Jungkook stares at your mouth, the dark stain of your lips, the curve of your jaw, those ample cheeks of yours—you’ve such a cute fuckable face, it’s one of his worst weaknesses.

He can never stay mad at you for long.

“You are.”

“My apologies, angel.”

The sarcasm doesn’t escape you.

You sigh, leaning against the counter, extending both hands towards him. He blinks at them, his own morphing into fists at his sides. He wouldn’t cave in, not this time. You needed to be taught a lesson. You needed to stop refusing him, treating him like second choice.

“Can we talk about this later?” You say in that velvet voice of yours, the one that never fails to hypnotize him into submission. “He’s waiting for me outside.”

Jungkook let’s out a dry laugh, nodding his head bitterly at your words. There’s no magic behind them today, no spell. “We wouldn’t want him to wait,” he deadpans.

“Jungkook.”

“(Y/N).”

You huff, and remove yourself from the bar completely. His body instinctively moves closer, but his mind is set. A terrible fucking jealousy is eating him alive, setting him aflame.

“You’re acting childish.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not the one two-timing people,” he retorts as calmly as possible, wanting to hurt you a little. Nothing like how you’ve hurt him. “Does he know how filthy you like getting fucked? How there’s another man that knows his way around your body like the palm of his fucking hand?”

You step back, face betraying guilt. “Stop it.”

He shrugs, and winks at you, proud of himself. “It’s the truth, angel. Don’t bring him into this if you don’t want him getting hurt.”

“You’re such an asshole, Jeon Jungkook,” you snapped, eyes glittering with tears. Jungkook looked away at once, his jaw clenching in annoyance.

Are you really taking that fuckers side? How long have you known him? Maybe a fucking week, if he had to guess. Jungkook has had you for years.

“Don’t ruin this for me,” you demanded, stomping your foot like a little kid.

Jimin had returned to his post next to his friend, and was witnessing your amusing temper tantrum. He also noticed the younger man’s struggle, the effort it took to stay put in that place of his.

“Ruin?” He mused over the word out loud, then laughed wholeheartedly, with his entire chest. It was an empty sound, a patronizing thing. “If you want to go with him, be my fucking guest baby girl. But if you do,” he warns, forearm resting on the wood in front of him. “you better forget about me. I’m not fucking sharing you.”

You stood hurt, a sour expression curving those perfect lips downwards, weighing your options. This was the moment Jungkook would finally see if you truly thought anything of him, if he mattered enough for you. Or at least if he was more important than a random guy you picked off a club. And God he hoped, for your sake, you picked him. Otherwise he would not be responsible for the Hell he’d give you afterwards.

Who he’d become if you dropped him. He’s scared of himself.

“What’s it going to be?” He presses, pinning you in place with those dark orbs. “Don’t make me become someone I don’t want to be, honey. You and I both know you’ll regret it.”

“Fuck you.”

Jungkook smiles at you, all charm and danger. “It’d be my pleasure.”

When you sulkily sit on the bar stool, and start typing on your phone, your decision sets in him. You chose him. His chest swells, his cock straining against his pants. He’d take you right then and there if he could; lift you on top of the counter, and fuck into you until all you know is his name, until all other men pale in comparison to him. What he does instead—he pulls your face in for a bruising kiss, his big hand cupping your jaw tightly, his tongue forcing your lips open.

“Get a room, Jesus,” he hears Jimin mutter, but he could give less of a fuck. He’s waited way too long for this. Let them watch, I know how to put on a fucking show.

You melt under his touch, letting him consume you. He growls low, and bites down on your bottom lip. You moan, and everything blurs—you’re alone. He craves nothing but you, needs to have you before insanity renders him incapable of fucking you properly.

“I’m getting off early,” he hesitantly pulls back and slaps Jimin’s chest, apron coming off in a blink of an eye.

“Sure, yeah, cause you can do that,” his friend sarcastically replies, but lets him go anyway.

“Don’t be too mad at him,” you add, smiling sweetly. Jimin smiles back, can’t help it. Jungkook glares, messenger bag over his shoulder, and jumps over the wooden top in one swift move.

“Stop fucking staring, Park,” he wraps an arm around your waist protectively, and takes you away. “I’m off!”

You barely made it to the car, before Jungkook turned you around, locking you between the passenger door and his muscled chest. His knee pushed between your legs, your hands on his sides squeezing the skin there. His head dipped to your ear, voice soothing you open, receptive. When his fingers disappeared beneath your skirt, a gasp tore through your throat, goosebumps rising on your skin.

You wanted him too, your pussy told him so. Your panties were all creamed up, thighs begging to be rubbed together to provide any sort of friction. He gave it to you, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your clit. You were throbbing—fuck how much he loved this.

“Tell me baby girl, were you going to keep him around for me to watch while you get fucked? You know you only have to ask,” he whispered, teasing you with those long fucking fingers of his.

In plain sight, for everyone to see. Christ.

“Like Hell you would,” you retort, breathless. “You’re a selfish man, Jungkook.”

He smirks at that, clicks his tongue against his teeth, and chuckles darkly. “You’re right on that,” he pulls you on him and rubs his erection against your clothed cunt. “Can’t let no one touch what is mine.”

“I’m not yours.” A weak remark, as your hips moved with his. He ignored it entirely.

He saw your naked neck, the way you swallowed, and attacked the sensitive skin there, grazing it with his teeth, sucking harshly on it. You hissed at the sensation, yet wanted more. What a contradiction of a woman, Jungkook thought, pulling me in but pushing me away. Unfortunately, for what he was planning on doing to you, he couldn’t be seen.

“Oh, but you are,” he whispers against your cheek, cuffing both of your wrists in one hand behind your back, slowly opening the car door for you to get in. “Oh angel, for how fucking adorable you are, you sure don’t use that pretty little brain of yours much.”

He lowered his head to be on eye level with you. He couldn’t possibly make it any clearer, not unless he bought a ring and put some babies in you.

“I own you.”

Your eyes told him so. The musk on his fingers guaranteed it. He smacked the door shut, licking your juices clean off. You tasted like fucking paradise.

He’d fucking destroy you.

Jungkook loved your neck, how easily it could turn purple, how perfect his hand fit around it, almost like it was made for him. He wouldn’t doubt it for a fucking second—the rest of you molded all over him, every nook and cranny.

Lifting you up the kitchen table, he felt like taking you raw, just like that; pushing your skirt up and burying himself in your folds. His thumb hooked between your lips, pressed down to open your mouth, your gaze following his movements closely. Pudding in his hands, to do whatever he pleased. Every time.

“Look at my little slut,” he admired, pushing his thumb in his second favorite hole of yours. “Suck, baby, show me what that mouth does best.” You did, your tongue swiping all around, over and under, wetting and sucking dry, repeating again and again, until Jungkook was satisfied.

He never was. If he could, he’d fucking snort you up, have you run through his bloodstream for the rest of time. His perfect fucking girl, the one that refuses to give into him, the one that drives him mad.

“Are you thinking about him?” He asks you, the same jealousy nibbling at him. It never left—it never leaves. “How his fingers taste, how they’d curl inside that cunt of yours? It’s fucking morphine, did you know, sweetheart? Why do you think you got me on my knees for you?”

He removes his digit, and decides playtime is over. He’s been lenient enough. You notice exactly when the change takes place, when his eyes darken, and your breathing quickens, fear replacing exhilaration. This was the cruel man that could make you come just with his filthy words. As much as you fucking loved it, he was ruthless—absolutely brutal.

“No,” you mumble, shaking your head. “No, Kook, no, I never—”

Not your coffee boy, but the one that uses a belt to teach you lessons. The one that always knows just how far you’re willing to go.

“Shut the fuck up. You knew what you were doing.”

Jungkook spits in your open mouth, squeezing your throat submissive. You struggle to breathe, but you take it, tightening your thighs around his hips in shameful arousal. He watches you swallow, tongue coming out to show him, just as he likes. He rewards you with a suffocating kiss, before he does it again.

“I bet you wondered how his dick would feel against those velvet fucking walls of yours,” he continued his verbal torture, his other hand pushing your panties to the side, feeling your slick, lapping it with his index, before shoving three fingers inside you at once. You hissed, nails digging holes on his shoulders.

“Yeah?” He fucks you with his entire hand, palm rubbing against your clit. You can’t think of nothing else but getting filled to the brim. “Your mouth works doesn’t it, honey?”

“No one’s fucked me but you in two years,” you confess in a haze, looking at him through your eyelids. Silver shone on his lip and eyebrow under the hidden lighting of his apartment. A shadow draped in gold.

You saw the movement of his jaw, the way his mouth became a thin line. He obviously enjoyed hearing that. But was it enough? Fuck no.

“But they’ve touched you,” he bitterly concludes. “They’ve tasted my pussy, my lips… haven’t they?” He sounded so miserable, so resentful. Your heart ached for him.

You loved this man, but he would never believe you, and you can’t blame him. You loved him in a different way, the only way you knew how. And he did the same. You met and crashed like waves. Your silence was answer enough.

The next moment struck like lightning. All you felt was pain, as he pushed you down on your elbows and ripped your panties off you in one movement. You weren’t even able to scream, the action barely registering in your brain.

“Unbutton my shirt,” he instructed you, no part of him touching you whatsoever. A shudder rippled through you, and down to your unclothed pussy. You scrambled to do as told, afraid of the consequences, hands shaking.

Jungkook groaned impatiently. “Stupid fucking whore, can’t even do something as simple as this,” he snarled at your face, every ounce of affection gone. “D’you need help, sweetheart? Perhaps a manual? None of this is helping your case, you know.”

“I’m—I’m sorry, please,” you whimper, hurrying to undo the stubborn buttons.

He cocked an eyebrow, gaze vicious. Hateful. Something kicked inside of you, a horrifying feeling—you were losing him. He was going to leave you after this. All he’s ever wanted, all you very much were aware of that he craved most—to have you all to himself, to call you his. You never gave it to him, always held back, and for what you’ve no idea. But this, having your body, pleasuring the both of you, it was the one thing if not the only part he had, the one thing he could do, he was allowed.

“Please,” he repeated, the word seemingly unfamiliar to him. “Please, what? Are you sorry at all, baby girl? Do you want me to go easy on you?”

You shake your head again, pushing the shirt off him, bulky muscle now exposed, the chiseled chest you so loved running your tongue over, and the V disappearing beneath his boxers, inviting, nearly a threat.

“Fuck me,” you pleaded, reaching a hand out to touch him, his most private part. “Please. I know I’ve hurt you, I’m sorry, please set me straight, fuck it out of me, I want only you, I promise, only you.”

“Lies,” he shouts, and lunges at you, pinning you down by your waist, skirt pulled roughly from your body. You’re met with the ceiling, but won’t dare move, won’t make a sound unless he tells you to. It’s a thin fucking line you’re walking on, one you haven’t experienced a whole lot.

You hear a shuffling of sorts, before a thud and then you feel it—his hot breath on your cold folds. Those veiny hands on your hips again, before he devours you. The vibration of his growling sends you into a frenzy, and you clench around nothing. Your clit between his sinful lips he sucks painfully at first, wanting to hurt you, but gently afterwards, after your cries settle and you’ve accepted your fate.

You’re at his mercy, and you better behave.

“Used fucking pussy,” he spits on it, fingers working together with his mouth to get you ready for his bulging cock. “What am I supposed to do with a second hand slut like you, huh? Begging to be filled with dick, dripping over my kitchen table…” he tsk’s, tongue flat against your wetness. “You don’t fucking need me, right, I’m just another naive guy wrapped around your goddamn finger, you could have me replaced at any time.”

“That’s not true!” you cry out immediately, hand getting lost in his thick brown locks. “Fuck!” A slap cuts the air—on your pussy. And he does it again, smacks the sensitive area until it’s red and throbbing and licking all over his chin.

“Quiet,” he snaps. “I can make it hurt like never before, honey, don’t fucking test me.”

You’re certain you’re losing your mind by that point, the ache between your legs overwhelming everything else, the thought of needing his cock like you need oxygen the only reasonable solution to making the pain go away. You’re coming before you know it, and Jungkook is a starving man, he licks it all up, licks you dry, marveling at the way your body responds to him, always has.

If only your heart would do the same. If only there was something he could do to make it beat only for him, as his does for you.

“No one will make you come like I do, sweetheart, God my fucking witness. No one knows their way around this pussy like I do, no one will fucking take the time.”

You go to sit up, pull him into you, needing comfort, needing your friend back, the one that made you feel good because you asked, not the half mad one, the obsession, the misshapen thing—for once you need his warm love, the one he’s been talking about, the one hiding behind the heartbreak. You don’t care how awful that is, how selfish you sound.

His palm presses down on your stomach as he towers over you, taking all light with him, flushed cock standing proudly between you, inches away from where you need it most. If he would just move closer, if perhaps you could wiggle further down the table…

“Do not fucking move, angel,” he warns, kissing your sobs silent. With a flick of his wrist, your breasts are in full view, his fingers pinching the erect nipples, calloused palms slapping the plump skin, abusing it.

Every touch vibrates directly in your cunt. You’ve become a blubbering mess, needing nothing but that long stick between his legs. A whore, as he said, a whore with no other purpose than taking dick, his dick, only his, because he’s the only one you want, the only one you need, the only one touching you like this, pushing your limits, driving you over the edge—

“Look at you, my beautiful mess,” he kisses your lips again and again, yet refuses to touch your core. Endless torture, when will it end, when will it end! “Do you understand now? This is what it feels having you under me every night, yet not having you at all,” he shushes your gut wrenching cries, removes your hands from your face, forces you to look at him. “My baby, my love…” he coo’s tenderly, caressing all the way down your body, before his arms hook under your thighs.

He positions you just at the edge of the round table, and quickly leans to lap at your cunt one last time. Christ, fucking Heaven in a woman; it’s alright sweetheart, it’s over, shhh, no more crying, I got you where I want you, I’ll take care of you now, no more crying, fuck if you could see yourself right now, so goddamn hot, a fucking vision just for me, just for your man, you perfect angel, you perfect fucking thing, all for me, all this for me—

You couldn’t describe the tidal wave of relief that washed over you as soon as he buried himself inside you. Both hands on your waist, he slammed you down onto his rock hard cock, his pace fast, relentless, absolutely everything you could’ve ever asked for.

“Harder, fuck, fucking kill me! Don’t stop, please, please, please, please…” incoherent thoughts jumbled together in a string of words, yet Jungkook understood perfectly.

Of course he did.

“Fucking slut…only way you deserve to be fucked…I’m gonna flip this cunt inside out, sweetheart, so no one will be able to screw you. You’re taking my cock so well, baby girl, fuck I want to tear you apart, I want to write my name in this pussy, mark it,” he growled in your ear, manhandling you like a goddamn lifeless doll, pistoling into you with incredible force, so much so you’d think he’d bruise you from the inside, but you couldn’t stop begging him to do so, all of it feeling oh so fucking good.

You want me to mark you, don’t you, you want me drilling into you all fucking day, I know you do, you insatiable goddamn pain in the ass, let me hear you, scream for me, baby, let me know who’s fucking you—say my name, he tightens his grip on your throat, his eyes insane with lust.

“Say my fucking name.”

“Jungkook,” you moan into his hair, nails scratching down his back.

“That’s right, baby. Again.”

“Jungkook!”

I fucking love you, sweetheart, I don’t give a fuck if you never love me back, just give me this pussy, let me drown in it, let me get lost and hide forever in your folds, yeah baby? Come for me now, cream on my dick sweet thing, c’mon, one two three—you scream at the top of your lungs, holding onto him for fear life as your body convulses violently, his own release spurting in thick white strips on your stomach as he barely manages to pull out, and everything goes black. He keeps you on him until you calm down, his pace slow and steady, fucking you both back down to reality.

Your breathing is incredibly labored, hair sticking on your forehead. You look so fucking beautiful to him, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. His pretty girl. He kisses your forehead overtaken by the strange feeling in his chest.

“God—I love you, you know?” You mumble against his chin, suddenly very shy.

Jungkook stills, his entire world pausing its spinning. “What did you just say?”

You try to cover your face, but to no avail. He’s much stronger than you, much more determined to look into those eyes that could never lie to him. You could make him the happiest man on earth or send him down to the darkest pits of Hell with just three words.

“I love you,” you repeat hesitantly, looking up at him. His expression crumbles. “I know it doesn’t mean anything, that I’m late and you probably want nothing more to do with me after this, but—”

His palm slams your mouth shut. Your eyes widen in surprise.

Jungkook then, still inside you, looks at you with the fondest look on his face, his body weight pressing down on you in the most delicious way.

“You’ve no idea what the fuck you’re saying right now, sweetheart, so I’ll forgive you,” he blinks, bewildered, in disbelief. “I never said I’m leaving you. It’s never crossed my mind.”

You furrow your eyebrows, but your words are muffled. He seems to comprehend perfectly well, anyway.

“You could kill me if you wanted, and I’d willingly die by your hand, (Y/N). Have you any idea what it means to love you?”

When he kisses you again, you think you can begin to understand.

#jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #bts smut #jungkook fanfics #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfics #jungkook fics #bts fics #jungkook imagine #.mine

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hsllfirescoopsreblogs · 1 month

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「 ✦ peter parker ✦ 」

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all peter parker stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

🕷️ @waitimcomingtoo

🕸️ you wear those shoes and I will wear that dress

☕️ you and Peter are just friends but he accidentally kisses you goodbye.

🕸️ stolen moments

☕️ your secret relationship is exposed when Peter returns from a mission bruised and bloody and you comfort him in front of everyone

🕸️ the great war

☕️ Peters double life causes serious strain on your relationship.

🕸️ burnt face and second base

☕️ peter can’t seem to stop accidentally hurting his crush.

🕸️ my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

☕️ when peter learns you have healing powers, he starts faking injuries to come see you until he gets seriously hurt.

🕸️ bringing sexy back

☕️ peter tries and fails to seduce you

🕸️ dos oruguitas

☕️ after the events of NWH, Peter becomes a regular at your coffee shop and convinces himself that you’re starting to remember him.

🕸️ just to learn that you never cared

☕️ always leaving class together to go fight crime leads people to think you’re dating when in reality you’re barely even friends. That is, until you agree to fake a relationship to keep your secret life a secret

🕸️ smell ya later

☕️ you get a new body cream that allegedly attracts spiders, and someone else

🕸️ the script

☕️you and Peter break up once you find out his secret and he falls apart

🕷️ @webslingingslasher

🕸️ U.N.I pt2

☕️ frat!peter

🕸️ frat!peter blurbs

🕸️ frat!peter

🕸️ unknown sender

🕸️ campus

☕️ Peter has never had a one night stand, but when he meets you at a party that changes, until he has to pretend he never wants to see you again.

🕸️ cherry lube

🕷️ please call me peter by @shawnxstyles

🕸️ you haven’t been able to come with anyone besides yourself, making you think something’s wrong with you. once you go to the gynecologist, dr. parker shows you that you’re just fine.

🕷️ the last time by @delicate-dorothea

🕸️ Peter's on the verge of losing you after disappointing you yet again.

🕷️ medic in lace by @madlittlecriminal

🕸️ peters hurt but doesn’t care once he see what you’re wearing.

🕷️ fangirling over spiderman by @parkerpeter24

🕸️ reader fangirls over spiderman to peter not knowing it’s him.

🕷️ possession by @silkscream

🕸️ peter parker is not himself when he falls into your universe. it must be a curse that he finds himself tethered to you. the darkness inside him has never wanted anything more.

🕷️ need to know by @motherofdogs1010

🕸️ When she was ready to get back out on the dating scene after dumping a certain Winter Soldier, Y/N was a woman ready to get back out there. She just never expected to find herself in a relationship with a certain nerdy spider.

🕷️ naked by @reesewillow-delrey

🕸️ In which Reader walks in on a naked Peter, Reader laughs, Peter becomes insecure. Reader decides to show herself naked back in the worst moment possible.

🕷️ swing by by @sunshinesteviee

🕸️ peter is a fellow teacher, and is also your best friend at work. he helps you bring spider-man in to meet your class, but something about it seems a bit suspicious.

🕷️ picture perfect by @mattymattymerduck

🕸️ You’re hired to kiss Spider-man for the Daily Bugle’s next Spidey-centric article.

🕷️ potential customer pt2 by @int-writersmind

🕸️ you work at a record store, bored out of your mind, until peter parker walks in and catches you eye.

🕷️ lost the game pt2 pt3 by @nexusnyx

🕸️ The explanation your mind settled for was that whoever lived under that mask, also lived somewhere close by. It explained the first time you found him limping and bleeding on an alley, and it explains how you evolved into his personal caretaker for the wounds and afflictions of Spider-Man's after battle consequences.

The only thing it doesn't explain, however, is why through the thick and convoluted webs of your strange situationship, a certain tension has built between you two. Palpable. Physical. As electric as some of his tales, and as dangerous as he is.

The tension between you and Spidey grows, and it grows, and it grows. One day, it snaps.

🕷️ physics and english teacher love affair by @certifiedlovergirlsstuff

🕸️ those two teachers that students are always interested in their relationship status.

🕷️ celebrity crush by @cantstoptheimagines

🕸️ You have a crush on Spider-Man, unaware that he’s the one you spend all your time with.

🕷️ indefinitely you by @spider-stark

🕸️ In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

🕷️ sunset lovers by @duskholland

🕸️ you’ve never met your soulmate, but you know his handwriting like the back of your hand—literally. every word your soulmate writes on his skin appears on yours, and vice versa. you’re desperate to meet him, but until the universe decides to introduce you, you’re stuck with scribbled smiley faces and chemistry formulae.

🕷️like the stars we're destined to die out and i'm destined to lose you by @msgorillagripcoochie

🕸️ you had finally gotten the happy ending you so desperately wanted but when gwen is gonna die, you know you have to save her even if you die

🕷️ lead the way by @foreverrogers

🕸️ you find out your best friend has never had sex. who else would be better to show him just how good it can be?

🕷️ if i could die in your arms by @selfcarecap

🕸️ When another Peter Parker shows up in your world, you give him a chance to have one last moment with the love of his life, someone who looked exactly like you, but also someone who died in his arms.

🕷️ masterlist by @spidey-webz

🕷️ request by @luveline

「 ✦ harry osborn ✦ 」

🕷️ request by @arkhamsrevenge

🕸️ cuddling harry

🕷️ make you better by @stickymolasses

🕸️ You're Harry's nurse and you can't help him feel better physically anymore, so you resort to playing therapist.

• MASTERLIST

• MARVEL MASTERLIST

hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3

last update april 25, 2024

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ladyxskywalker · 2 years

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so all this time I've been spelling grey wrong ?? 🤷‍♀️

is it gray or grey ?

or both ?

#pxk rambles #coffee break musings ☕️

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simdertalia · 1 year

Photo

🍴 Animal Crossing Lunch Break Set 🍴

Sims 4, Base game compatible | 18 items | I’ve added an item that I made myself, the punch clock! I wanted one in my game very badly, so I put this one together. In my excitement, I forgot to add hands to the punch clock, so I added some (May 11 2023) just move to your mods folder to replace the old file 💗

Always suggested: bb.objects ON, it makes placing items much easier. For further placement tweaking, check out the TOOL mod. Start typing “animal crossing lunch break” into the search query in build mode to find quickly. You can always find items like this, just begin typing the title and it will appear.

Use the scale up & down feature on your keyboard to make the items larger or smaller to your liking. If you have a non-US keyboard, it may be different keys depending on which alphabet it uses.

📁 Download (SFS, No Ads): <HERE> https://simfileshare.net/folder/188331/

📁 Alt Download (still no ads): <HERE> https://mega.nz/folder/A5Z0WYzI#FaL3Zt6cIbuG1hWNKyauNQ

As always, please let me know if you have any issues! Happy Simming! ✨ If you like my work, please consider supporting me:

★ Patreon 🎉 ❤️ |★ Ko-Fi ☕️ ❤️ ★ Instagram 📷

Thank you for reblogging ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

@sssvitlanz @maxismatchccworld @mmoutfitters @coffee-cc-finds @itsjessicaccfinds @gamommypeach @stargazer-sims-finds @khelga68 @suricringe @vaporwavesims @mystictrance15 @public-ccfinds

-Lifting Safety Poster -Wall Keys -Space Mugs -Clipboard -Jade Plant CC by BrazenLotus but i can’t seem to find the download page -Folder/Binder CC by ATS4 -Chair CC by Noir&Dark -The Teacher’s Desk by EA (Discover University) -Bulletin Board by SimKoos

#sims 4 cc #ts4cc #sims 4 maxis match #sims 4 food #sims 4 animal crossing #sims 4 punch clock #sims 4 time clock #sims 4 job #sims 4 career #sims 4 lunch break #sims 4 object #sims 4 water cooler #sims 4 picnic #sims 4 cooler box #sims 4 water jug #sims 4 pantry #sims 4 sandwich #simdertalia

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kunikuma · 7 months

Text

coffee break ☕️

relationship | kunikuzushi x gn!reader, modern AU

synopsis | the corporate world is boring. breaktime was his only reprieve during the dreaded 9-to-5 til you decided to join him. content | fluff, coworkers to... not-yet lovers? cw | none a/n | this has a very dry tone to it... to y'know, seal the deal on the vibes of the corporate world. also, this is draft number three. originally, i was gonna write some weird coworkers enemies to lovers with software developer scara. ngl, still into it. btw, sticky notes are my love language. ask me about them.

masterlist

Sept. 17

Office life meant painful, teeth-pulling water cooler talk; a job description never explicitly stated that as a primary responsibility, but it’s there. Everyone was wordlessly expected to talk about the weather or the upcoming sports game scheduled for that weekend.

Except for Kunikuzushi because he’d proudly admit he’s a bit of a bastard and would rather die than put himself in a situation where he had to listen to some dad’s daughter’s ballet recital, or listen to someone ramble about getting a gross dog.

The man was born and bred to avoid small talk at all costs. He’d plan his coffee breaks well; watching when people were most likely to head into the office’s kitchen for a refill or to engorge on the shitty and cheap cookies the human resources lady would drop off on Tuesdays. His beady eyes would squint as the gears in his head turned. Oh, this man mentally noted the duration and frequency of each person’s break.

The overworked young man in his dreary cubicle did the math and he did the time. Prime time silence was usually around 10:30 and 2:15 each day. Then, and only then, he’d find himself slinking away from his desk, peering around the corners to walk to the bathrooms, only to dart to the breakroom to pour himself another cup of bitter, dark coffee. Y’know, to bring his hot mug to the corner of the breakroom and stare at the world below.

Change of scenery.

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.

A perfect routine.

Slinking away from his desk, pouring himself a fresh cup… Blowing on the hot liquid and letting it fog his blue light lenses…

No cream, no milk, no sugar. Not a speck of artificial joy in his cup. Just the way he liked–

“How do you like your coffee, Kuni?”

He tersely watched you drop coffee grounds into the filter of the machine, the soothing sound of them hitting the paper suddenly grated his eardrums. From the partially opened door that he was still gripping, he stared at the back of your skull. You darted around the breakroom, snatching a cracker from a platter and popping it into your mouth while you gathered some water.

What? You did not take breaks at this time.

You were pouring a little too much ground for the amount of water you had set aside. He scoffs and rolls his eyes, his fingers digging into the grooves of the wood. The grumpy developer turns around, the oak door slamming behind him.

Damn you for intruding during his solace.

Damn you for wedging yourself into his routine.

You were just his oddly pretty, annoying, and pretty cute coworker who sat a few meters away from him. During the morning meetings, you’d chime in about your daily tasks and diligently nod your head when the team lead would give you direction. You never personally spoke to him, yet he’d see you chatting away with the others on the team.

Fine by him, he intended on keeping you at arms’ length. Office friends and crushes were childish.

Admiring you from a few feet away is where he drew the line and he never intended to cross it.

You’d ruin his perfect schedule:

Arrive at work at nine in the morning.

Work.

Take his two coffee breaks.

Go home at five.

Eat.

Sleep.

Repeat til he dies.

Oct. 3

You were fucking persistent though! You weren’t always in the break room at the same time, but he didn’t even understand why you started showing up to begin with.

Somedays, he’d be lucky and he’d catch you squinting at your screen as you worked through his break, clicking away and typing up a storm. He could see the list of things you needed to do on a pad of paper near your desk and he’d celebrate knowing you would be too busy to intrude on his silence.

On other days, you’d be brewing up a different storm in the little kitchenette. Literally brewing up coffee from with the drip machine, or talking his ear off about absolutely useless information.

Once, you asked him about his dating life and he remained silent, dragging a blue napkin across the table in a circle. The only sound was from the coffee machine as it dripped its ambrosia into the carafe. Deciding his silence was your invitation to talk, you blabbered about your own lack of romance-

“Didn’t ask.”

He’d dryly sneer when you talked about a random date you went on months ago. You had said something about how poor of a date it was; your date showed up late, told you they couldn’t pay the bill, and left you halfway through. While he thought that was funny, his concealed amusement faded when you excitedly reminisced about a very good date you went on the other day.

When you dreamily sighed, he crumpled the napkin on the table til his knuckles cracked. The little napkin met its fate as he pelted it into the trash bin.

Kunikuzushi did not want to hear much about your love life, unless it pertained to the failures of those courting you.

Besides, it was not appropriate for the workplace! A lie.

Snickering at his shittily concealed displeasure, you wondered if you poked at a sore spot. You changed the topic to talk about the office gossip, what you planned on having for dinner that night, the weather, and how it affected your hairstyle. This seemed to have been the right choice as his shoulders visibly relaxed.

…O-of course, your manager’s boyfriend left her! She was a fool! And wow, your dinners sounded sad and pathetic because you had them alone. He certainly couldn’t say the same. He could.

Side note: he thought your complaints about your hair on Monday were unfounded. Actually, he thought your hair looked kind of… alright. It was a little cute when it a tad frizzy because you’d worry over such a tiny detail—

He shakes himself out of his head and abruptly leaves.

Oct. 14

If he saw you had a steaming cup on the cute cat coaster on your desk, he’d awkwardly get up from his desk to… seemingly walk to the restroom. By the time he’d slide his way to the breakroom, you were there, brewing up another big communal pot for all the sad folk in the office.

These days, his gritted teeth did not suffer too much. He’d scoff at your presence but choose to remain in the break room. After all, all he needed to do was to pour himself a fresh cup of your watery coffee and head back.

He didn’t need to sit in the corner and let you use his ears like a little verbal punching bag. Perks of never needing sugar or milk; he could just leave the break room once the dark liquid was near the top of the white cup.

He could ignore your questions; if he felt an urge tickling his throat to respond to you, he’d cough or grunt in your direction. Didn’t always work.

Once, you wistfully sighed about how the office coffee never quite tasted as good as an overly expensive cup from down the street; whatever magic the barista used was out of this world. Kunikuzushi wryly broke his silence, noting that you were probably just bad at making a simple brew.

“...sounds like a skill issue.” He mutters dryly, gingerly placing his mug down as he leans against the backrest. His finger circles the rim of the cup like the hand on a clock.

Like a fish out of water, you gawked at him. You raised your voice as you laughed and threw a jab in his direction.

Though, when you beamed at him for replying, he covered his twitching smirk with the hot mug.

Luckily for him, the hot steam from the cup aided in fogging his perched glasses on his nose, hiding the mirth in his eyes. Seeing that he broke his silence thanks to the coffee topic, you pressed on.

That day, you had learned the man was quite the home-barista, mumbling about how he owned his own combo espresso machine and milk frother back in his apartment. When you ordered him to be in charge of the coffee from now on, he only scoffed and he said you had taken over his job since you had intruded on his alone time. The communal brew’s quality tanked ever since you started intruding on his alone time.

“You have no one to blame but yourself.”

Oct. 21

One day, as you poured water into the drip machine, you found yourself babbling over the most recent latte you had tried over the weekend.

Kunikuzushi found himself nodding absentmindedly as he stared out the glass windows again. The breakroom was decorated with oranges and blacks to celebrate the spooky season. You chimed in about how it must be his favorite time of the year because he could dress up to be a cheerier person.

He does everyone a favor and ignores you.

Down below, he watched citizens enter and exit the little cafe, hearing you happily coo over the perfect sweetness of the autumnal drink gracing your pretty lips. You mentioned something about an apple latte and he grimaces at the thought of the decadent syrup.

In many people’s hands down below, he could see the burning steam hitting the cool air of the city. The brown cardboard cup sleeves protected their hands as they took quick sips on their way to work. Through the big windows of the cafe, he could see pairs and groups of people laughing away as they sipped their drinks and enjoyed their pastries. Kunikuzushi feels a twist in his chest at the sight; how boring! People surely find joy in the most mundane things like chatting over a snack.

He laughs. He shakes his head and gets up to leave.

Oct. 28

At 10:30 and 2:15 each day, he’d find himself cradling his hot cup and staring out the window as you blabbered about the different cafes around town. You hadn’t mentioned anything about dates and he found himself curious if you had gone on any since the last time you brought them up. Not that he’d ever ask about that.

He had finally stopped slinking around the office; rather, he’d eye the little raspberry-tinted lip gloss stain on your porcelain mug and he’d comment oh-so loudly to no one in particular that it was time for a break. If he didn’t see your head whip around like a dog who heard the word ‘walk’, he’d bump into your chair on the way to the break room. In the corner of his eye, he’d check if you were gathering your mug as he turns the corner.

These days, he’d watch the people on the street scurry like little ants, paying closer attention to the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

Your loud-mouth blabbering about anything and everything under the sun stopped feeling like nails on a chalkboard. If he closed his eyes as he took a sip of his drink, he could almost see himself admitting it was soothing in that little room. The feeling was akin to being at home while having a podcast in the background.

More recently, the communal office fridge and cabinetry were starting to get stocked with new ingredients: milks, creams, flavored syrups, and different kinds of sugars. They were unlabeled and everyone wondered who brought them in. You tried making something tasty today but sighed when it was just a little too sweet.

Nov. 1

“Why did you start talking to me?” He breathes, blowing the steam from his mug. The young man was at his cherished spot as he watched you make yourself a snack at the counter. Your fingers wiggled as you prepped a small plate of food to bring back to your desk. This was something he had been mulling over now and then and he needed to know.

“We’ve been on the same team together for what? Four months? What took you this long to work the nerve?”

“Took me this long? You make it sound like you have been twiddling your thumbs, waiting for me to make the first move.”

“...Annoying. You know what I meant.”

“I mean, you’re the only one left on the team I haven’t gotten to know. Plus, you’re not that bad looking. You are kinda fuckin’ scary though, I guess. A-ah, don’t tell human resources I said any of that...”

“...no promises.”

Nov. 4

This new routine of his never grew to be boring, he’d regret to admit.

How could it?

He’d listen to you talk for maybe twenty minutes a day and you didn’t talk about ballet recitals or stupid sports games on the weekends.

More recently, you ranted about a damn puzzle you were gifted and how it was laying unfinished on your kitchen table for the last few weeks.

You were an odd one. If he was sweet, he’d describe you as an endearing breath of fresh air in a suffocating office. But he’s not sweet like that, so he’d call you weird if someone asked.

If anything, he horrifically realized he seemed to look forward to these twenty minutes.

Kunikuzushi found himself irately drumming his fingers on his desk as his eyes darted from your laughing form to the time at the corner of his monitor. In front of him, lines of code flooded his brain along with the error messages he had been reading through. His little silver ring on his finger rotated each time it brushed against the skin of its neighbor.

His eyes dart again.

10:33

You were still laughing away with that ginger-headed fuck, Ajax. Clearly, was a convo that had your rapt attention because your body was facing the man and you were casually propping your elbow on the waist-high filing cabinet. The more extroverted man had peeked his head over his screen and called you over, not-so-quietly yelling about the latest episode of a show.

While the teensy smile on your face was nice to see, Kunikuzushi found himself squeezing his eyes shut at the sight of you smiling for that guy out of all people.

You were supposed to beam at him when he muttered a response your way.

10:37

The cranky developer was not pleased to have his routine fiddled with again. Currently, he was looking at having only thirteen of the twenty minutes he demanded each day.

“Tsk, whatever. I’ll get my refill. If you join, you join.” He mutters under his breath, glaring at the back of your head as he shoves his chair into the desk, startling the people around him as everything rattles.

Quickly making a beeline towards the breakroom, he ignores your curious stare. The loud thumping of his shoes hitting the carpeted floors matched the weird thumping in his chest.

Why didn’t you stop him when he walked past?

Why didn’t you say something?

Did you know what time it was?

He shoves the door open and makes a beeline for the corner and flops into the chair, forgoing the refill. The loud screeching of the metal scrapping across the tiled floor rips him awake. He pinches his nose.

Breathe.

He was being foolish, and he closed his eyes.

In the empty break room, the irritated man sat at the window and checked his watch.

10:41

The soft pitter-patter of the rain hitting the window was the only sound today.

He hesitates before he heads back to his desk in silence.

Nov. 10

These days, when you were too busy to join him at 10:30 and 2:15, you’d find a freshly brewed pot with your additives in a cleanly washed mug next to the carafe. Before you could aw, you would also find a sticky note next to the mug with a passive-aggressive message.

‘hurry up. ur so slow.’

‘wow. poor taste in office friends.’

Today, there was a middle finger doodle and a ‘:P’.

Hey, at least the coffee was back to being well-brewed.

Nov. 14

It was interesting yet... gross to think back on how the relationship between the two of you had progressed.

The man started by keeping you no closer than an arm’s reach. These days, it felt like that desire had subdued itself. By all means, he wasn’t giving you hugs. The man wouldn’t even give you a high-five!

But that metaphorical distancing felt like it reached its end, especially once you had walked in on him stirring a plastic stick in a mug.

Curiously, you walked over after he abruptly placed it on the counter without taking a sip. Peering into it, you noticed it was a light beige color, not the usual dark, liquid abyss the man usually cradled.

He huffs as he settles into his chair in the corner of the breakroom near his favorite window, landing a little too clumsily into the seat. Today, it was dreary outside and he watched two raindrops race each other down the clear glass. At the bottom of the glass, they combined into one big raindrop.

Pleased, you lifted the cup to your nose to get a nice whiff of a similar smelling drink similar to the autumnal one you described a while back in October. Kunikuzushi clears his throat after taking a sip of his hot cup and clicks his tongue.

“Tried something new for myself, but I hate it. Can’t make a real latte without the proper equipment. Drink it; the subpar taste might be perfect for someone like you. Might tide you over til later.”

…Later? What did he mean by ‘later’?

Also, did he just insult you? Whatever. The drink was pretty decent.

Nov. 15

Later, you found a little pale sticky note on your desk with scribbled text all over it. Snatching it from the bottom of your monitor, you chuckled, expecting yet another bitchy message from the short man.

‘grab lunch with me tmrw at noon. cafe downstairs, across the street. lets ditch the shit office coffee.’

Huh.

Not a pissy message this time around.

Breaking the routine yet again.

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