#something that she might not be able to grasp here

[weavingmemories]

(tag stolen from @bibliophileemily​ - hope it’s okay to take this as a springboard to ramble a little 👉👈)

replaying ToS as often as i have, i tend to have fun thinking a lot about new character dynamics every time i come back to it- and yuan/colette struck me a lot when i considered how yuan directly compares her “cloying attitude” to martel when he opens up a little (in the mithos the hero sidequest)- and it kind of all spiralled from there! (colette asking yuan if he was looking for a four-leaf clover in the ring sidequest is so absolutely adorable too LMAO. her just pointing out that maybe he wants to be happy and that was her reasoning... oh, my sweet angel.)

since i’ve been thinking a lot about my chosen swap au, i’ve often considered how colette’s involvement in the renegades would be a lot more active; she’d be a lot more invested in actually HAVING autonomy somewhere and feeling like she can work to change the world for the better on her own merit, after being largely ‘seen and not heard’ as the flourishing world’s chosen for show (and treated generally like glass by the noble class)- so instead of largely gaming all sides of the conflict like zelos does in canon, she’d be more stuck between a rock and a hard place with cruxis, but genuinely believe in the work she does with the renegades.

i’m still fleshing out the smaller details of the swap, but i think that in general colette learning how to wield her elemental magic (via aionis) and training with the renegades would really be the first time she feels like she can do something, and while yuan would probably be standoffish and busy for the most part, she’d really come to respect him, especially knowing how much danger he’s in and the tightrope he also walks behind yggdrasill’s back! i also feel like their closer contact and communications would kind of wear him down over time, since colette has so much genuine faith in him as a leader (and i can see her becoming close to botta too, since they probably do a lot more practical work together since he runs things more front-facingly!)

on the flip side, zelos’ journey (because his mana signature is probably not quite so close to martel’s) is kind of a dummy one just for the sake of turning over the hourglass- i think colette’s life would still be in imminent danger of becoming martel’s vessel if mithos found out just how close her match was, and how much of a clear shot he’d have at bringing his sister back. and so yuan probably is keeping very close tabs on her for that reason too! and of course, he’d probably have a lot of conflicting feelings about her- reflexively wanting to remain stubborn in his belief that she’s just silly, naive, etc. as a defense mechanism to opening his heart again, but really coming to appreciate her both for her familiar kindness but also her own unique personality!

i also think that in post-game, colette would want to keep working with yuan and the renegades as a force for rebuilding the world and helping out (and maybe even become his new right hand man?). and that could lead to something... who knows? :3c

[dedalvs]

My brother and I absolutely cackled after that Aemond and Aegon Valyrian exchange!

I wanted to ask (and I'm terrible at conlangs, so forgive me) what grammar/syntax Aegon is stumbling over here and how to properly say what he intended to? Any why is he making thise mistakes (simply lacking the vocabulary, or rules of the language he hasn’t grasped)?

Let's take a look at it. This is what he said:

Nyke koston... Bēvilus... Sētegon bīlīvāzmi?

The subtitles say this:

"I can... Have to... Make a war?"

Prior to this Aemond is, essentially, showing off. He knows that Aegon has simply not put any time into studying Valyrian (or studying anything). At this stage, Valyrian is no longer spoken by the family on a day-to-day basis—especially as Alicent probably never learned it at all (or if she did, only in a few scattered lessons here and there; not to actually use). In order for either of the boys to gain any kind of fluency in the language, they have to study constantly and find ways to use it. There's simply no daily need for the language—and plenty of reasons not to use it, as very, very few people they'll encounter on a daily basis speak the language.

Now, if we were talking about two random people in Westeros, this wouldn't mean anything. But these are the children of Viserys Targaryen, himself a descendant of Aegon the Conqueror. They brought their family line and their culture with them to Westeros—and, of course, their language. If someone like Alicent Hightower doesn't speak High Valyrian it means nothing. If a Targaryen doesn't speak High Valyrian, though… See, they're supposed to be able to speak Valyrian. Failing to do so carries with it a sense of shame that isn't present for a random person who doesn't speak Valyrian. Aemond knows this. Aegon is annoying him, so he goes poking at that wound.

Aemond could have fed him a short line with an obvious answer to help Aegon out, but instead he threw a whole mess of Valyrian at him. The longer it goes on, the more lost Aegon gets, desperately trying to catch up and figure out what was just said and thereby missing what is being said at that instant. From the whole speech, Aegon probably only figured out that he was being asked a question, and it was something having to do with planning.

So, back to what he says. The beginning student of a language is quite adept at doing a single verb in a present tense sentence. In a discussion like this, though, you're typically saying things like "I think that" or "We should" or "I suggest" or "Perhaps we might", etc. All that stuff that we need to offer opinions, make suggestions, hedge, etc. Much more than simple narration.

Aegon is attempting to do this without a sufficient command of the language. He knows some vocabulary, he knows some grammar, but he simply did not put in the work to actually speak this language. Thus, he has to overcome a lot of Common Tongue (i.e. English) interference.

There are many differences between Valyrian and English, but the biggest one by far is the major word order. In English, the verbs come before the rest of the junk; in Valyrian, they come at the end. And this is how things get all messed up.

In English, you start the sentence saying things like "I think" or "We should" or "It seems". In Valyrian, those things come at the end. If you start with the Valyrian equivalent of "I think", you will quickly realize (presuming you know enough of the grammar) that you're sunk, because once you've said it, the sentence should be done. Thus you get Aegon's false starts.

Starting at the beginning, Aegon says Nyke koston, which is kind of like saying, "I could". But there's nowhere to go. This is how a sentence ends. For example, if he wanted to say, "I could fly to Harrenhal", he would say Harenhalot sōvegon koston—literally "To Harrenhal fly I could". If you're thinking English-ly, you're essentially thinking backwards, and if you simply translate what you're thinking, you'll immediately have nowhere to go. You'll have to take a pause and think about how to get started again. And that's exactly what happens here.

Now, leaving aside that Valyrian is a pro-drop language and starting it off with nyke "I" is unnecessary and makes you look like a beginner, koston isn't bad (I mean, if used sentence-finally). Once he realizes he can't start there, though, he loses confidence. It's those old High Valyrian lessons all over again, and some maester suggesting he hasn't studied. That self-doubt makes his facility with Valyrian worse. This means his chances of recovery are severely hampered.

But onward he presses, and he decides to say "We have to" or "I have to". Now, the problem here is in Valyrian that requires the verb bēvilagon. This verb isn't used in the usual way. Literally it means "to lie on". If you wanted to say "We must mobilize our dragons", you'd say Īlvī zaldrīzī mazannagon īlo bēvilza. That's literally "Our dragons to mobilize us it lies upon". The one who must do something is placed in the genitive and put directly before the verb. If you start with the verb, well, you missed your chance to say who it is that must be doing something—let alone what they must do. Another false start.

It's also worth noting that he says bēvilus as opposed to bēvilza. Let's ignore that it's the aorist and focus on the fact that it's the subjunctive (just like koston). You use the subjunctive with your main verb when you're hedging—when you're suggesting. Not when you're commanding. Kind of an odd thing to say "We must do this" with the subjunctive. Kind of like saying "Maybe we might considering having to do this".

At this point, his confidence has completely evaporated. Everybody's staring at him like he has no idea what he's talking about; Aemond's eating it up. He knows he's cooked. He's got to say something, though, so he says sētegon which isn't even conjugated. It means "to make" or "to create", which might make sense in English (e.g. "to make war"), but doesn't make sense in Valyrian (a bit like saying "to construct a war" or even "to bake a war") and then tries to pronounce vīlībāzmi "war" (wrong case/number, wrong order) and fails, saying bīlīvāzmi, which means nothing (also he wanted vīlībāzme. Vīlībāzmi is "wars").

Long story short, he doesn't present himself very well—and we didn't even talk about his general pronunciation or intonation. It's kind of a great big mess in only five words. A true disaster.

But if there were no expectation that he should be able to speak Valyrian, none of this would matter! If there were no shame associated with him specifically not being able to speak Valyrian no one would expect it of him, and this challenge would mean as little as someone challenging him to speak the Old Tongue or Asshai'i. It'd be meaningless.

In short, this small portion of this scene is about being a heritage speaker of a language. It's the exact nightmare scenario all heritage speakers fear: To be put on stage and made to perform despite being unequal to the task while simultaneously feeling that they should be equal to it.

It'd be so cool if it was okay to be kind of good with a language—if that level of mastery was acceptable. In the real world, anyway.

[saetoru]

Imagine how funny it’s be if it was the “break up with my son” trope with rich boy gojo but instead of break up it’s his mother begging you to stay with him forever because he gets insufferably sad/annoying when you’re not around

[ FINALS WEEK ] GOJO SATORU.

“satoru.”

“please don’t leave me,” his voice is croaked, frail, broken. you roll your eyes—gojo has always had a knack for being the most dramatic person in the room, but you think of all his moments, this one might just take the cake.

“this is ridiculous—”

“please,” he even pretends to sniffle, and for a moment, you almost consider actually leaving him. “i’m nothing without you. empty with no meaning—”

“satoru, it’s just for this week,” you say flatly.

gojo has always been spoiled, and truth be told, you don’t hold yourself to the standards you’d like to be able to say you do in order to break the cycle. but really, it’s not your fault—his pout is rather dangerous, and he’s pretty damn good at whining, and he knows how to bat his lashes just right to get what he wants. this time, however, you’re determined. this time is strictly a no-giving-into-satoru time, and he can shed pretty tears all he wants, but you’re not relenting.

“what if you fall in love with someone else during our one week break up? i won’t make it if you do,” he gasps dramatically. you have to hand it to him—his ability in theatrics is at least persistent, even if quite a bit overdone sometimes.

“i’m sure your house would be peaceful then,” you snort. you can just picture the offended pout on his lips even though he’s not here, and you’re somewhat happy that he can’t see the smile you crack over the phone—that would only add to the drama, and he’s already a handful without the addition.

“baby, don’t do this,” he begs, making you sigh. 

it’s finals week. meaning all the days of class gojo has made you skip in order to coddle him (again, he’s very spoiled) will soon come back to really bite you in the ass while you have to make up for what you missed to pass your exams. meaning no gojo satoru will be allowed anywhere near your vicinity as an added distraction to keep you from studying. you know your boyfriend, and you know him well. you know that i promise i’ll just sit and be quiet will turn into his head resting in your lap, which will turn into pouts for your fingers to play with his hair, which will turn into complaints of boredom, which will all end with forced cuddles and an earful of his blabbering as he steals your attention. 

and you cannot afford a single failed final. 

so, with careful and deliberate consideration, you come up with your solution—which seems to have utterly broken your (painfully) spoiled boyfriend. no staying over the nights for a week is a very hard thing to grasp for rich and spoiled boyfriends who rarely hear the word no, apparently, and gojo is not taking the news lightly.

in fact, he seems to be taking the news a lot harder than you initially anticipated. never did you think a one week ban from sharing a bed with gojo so you can earn your degree would turn into his mother phoning you with a desperate plea to not break up with her son. it takes you by surprise, makes you stare at your phone with a double take to make sure you’re really talking to who you think you’re talking to—and that she’s really said what you think she’s said.

which begs the real question…where did the words break up even come from? and then you realize a certain somebody has exaggerated your rule for the week to something entirely new.

“satoru, you are entirely too much,” you groan, “one week of no sleepovers will not kill you. stop being bratty. and stop telling your mother i broke up with you, liar.”

“you practically are,” he huffs. “you don’t see me all day when you study. now you’re taking away the night too? just say you stopped loving me.” you scoff, and he pauses. “don’t actually say that, though,” he adds quickly.

“some of us have to pass,” you scowl, “i don’t have trust funds to swim in.”

“you can—”

“if you say i can spend your money, you might have to tell your mom we actually broke up.”

“so mean,” he whines, “well, why can’t i just sleep in your bed? i don’t even snore, i wouldn’t bother you,” he protests. he’s stubborn—which sometimes makes your heart flutter (like when he defends your honor to his snobby father) but sometimes (like now, for example) it’s enough to make you wish his lips would sew shut. permanently. 

“because,” you sigh exasperatedly, “you never sleep unless i’m in bed with you, and i’m going to stay up very late. stop being difficult—”

“i promise i’ll be good—”

“you are never good,” you accuse, narrowing your eyes. “and you break this promise every time. no sleepovers for this week until all my finals are over. and no more bothering your mom. got it?”

“but this time for real i’ll be good—”

“no, toru,” you say firmly, a hint of finality in your tone. it’s silent, and you can just imagine him deflating, and a small part of you feels just a little bad. “baby, i promise i’ll try to squeeze in some time every now in then, okay? we’ll meet for lunch or something.” you try to ease his conscience, but it doesn’t do much to persuade his sulkiness. 

“yeah, whatever,” he mumbles under his breath. 

a sulky gojo is a nightmare to deal with—you silently send your prayers to his mother for the next week, and you almost consider saving up for a fancy gift to offer her as an apology. but you also feel just a little bad for your sweet (though annoying) boyfriend. it’s at least the slightest bit endearing that he enjoys your company as much as he does, and you’d be lying if you say you don’t enjoy it just as much. 

so you relent—not fully though, you reason. “you can stay only the night,” you mutter, huffing as you hear his breath hitch with excitement, “and you have to stay in the living room until i’m ready to sleep.”

“i’ll tell my mom we’re back together,” he grins.

“we were never broken up!” you hiss as you pinch your nose, but before you can help yourself, there’s a light giggle that spills past your lips.

“she’ll be thrilled,” he chuckles, making you roll your eyes fondly. 

“cause it means you’ll leave the house to see me.”

“true,” he laughs this time, soft and sweet and enough to make you think spending nights with gojo this week isn’t the worst thing to happen. “i love you.”

“i know.”

“say it back—”

“okay bye. i have to study,” you grin as you cut him off, hanging up the line with a snicker.

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

[writersblockedx]

Something Inappropriate

Pairing - Professor! Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - When Spencer Reid bumps into one of his students while she's highly intoxicated, he takes it upon himself to get her home safely. Warnings - Student/teacher relationship, drinking, very slight implication of sexual assault Words - 1.9K

A/n - Thinking about making this into a little mini-series so let me know if you like this!

masterlist

It was Friday night and every student was somewhere in town. Groups of them crowding the bar, ordering shots or vodka sodas. Whatever was cheapest and whatever could get them drunk enough.

It just so happened that this certain Friday night, Y/n had gulped on too many drinks. It was barely 1am before she was stumbling to the dance floor, her friend's hand interlocked. Her intoxicated dance was enough to draw some attention. Some men eyeing her in the corner, some more girls wanting to join in and a man she knew at the bar: Professor Spencer Reid. One of her lecturers. Her favourite lecturer in fact.

Y/n didn't really register it in her drunken state until she wandered up to the bar and spotted him closer up. He was sipping on a something with coke, stood beside a man she didn't recognise: broad-shouldered and tough. "Professor?" She called with a sly smile rising to her lips.

Spencer turned: a pleasant surprise. "Y/n, hi, it's good to see you." He returned the smile, observing the girl's obvious drunken state.

"Well, I certainly didn't expect to see you here...no offence." She giggled drunkenly. Her professor was, obviously, much older. He seemed the type to enjoy a book on a Friday night - not a bar.

Spencer pointed to the man next to him, "It's erm- Morgan dragged me here." Said man turned to face Y/n, a cheeky glint already settled in his eye.

"Are you one of the doctor's students, hm?" He asked.

"I am," She answered, "Do you work at BAU too?"

Morgan shook his head, "Used to."

"Well, it was nice bumping into you both," She sent them a final smile, "See you Monday morning, sir." She directed such at Spencer before turning to face the bartender who was awaiting to take her order.

And once she grasped it, returning to her friends with a stumble in her steps, Morgan glanced back at Reid. The boy knew Morgan long enough to know what was coming: what that glint in his eyes meant. "She's interesting," He commented, observing Spencer. "Maybe I need to switch career paths."

Spencer swallowed hard on his drink, "She's my student, Morgan." The other man only shrugged at such response; nothing in the sensual sense ever seemed off-putting to Morgan. But Spencer, well he had many lines he had yet to cross. And Y/n was one of them.

His eyes gazed over to the girl who was giggling at something one of her friends had said. She was beautiful - she would give Morgan that. But, as much as that was the case, a relationship further than academic would be... inappropriate. No matter what Spencer might have thought about the girl. Even now, as he glanced at her from afar, she seemed nothing but carefree, captivating, alluring. And he couldn't let his mind go there.

An hour or so had passed when Spencer finally convinced Morgan that they should go home. He wandered outside, making sure Morgan got into his taxi all right before the front door to the bar swung open. Y/n stepped out, attempting to grasp a single cigarette from the packet. She had yet to notice her professor watching her. Once she had one between her fingertips, another challenge arrived: lightening it.

"Need some help there?" Spencer wandered up to her, shoving his hand into his trouser pockets.

If she were sober, she probably would have stopped what she was doing. Smoking in front of one of her preferred professors wasn't exactly the view she wanted to give. "Erm- I-" She sighed, giving in and handing the lighter over to Spencer, "Yes."

He took it, creating a block from the wind with one hand and letting the fire ignite before the girl was able to inhale the smoke into her lungs. "Thanks," She muttered before he took a step away.

"You shouldn't smoke you know," He could go on a ramble - but he wouldn't.

She shrugged, "I know, I just- I can't find my friends, I don't know where they've gone." She explained. "I thought they might be out here."

Spencer looked around the pavement they were standing on: deserted. "But?"

"But, they're not." She huffed as the smoke exhaled from her lips. She stumbled as she took a step, "I think- I think they went to some club." Her head banged - it was all beginning to become blurred.

And at her words, Spencer's concern intensified. "And they left you here?" He questioned.

Her eyes fell to the floor as she attempted to think, "I didn't want to go." She told him. "I shouldn't be- I can't-"

Before she could get out her drunken slurs, a hand came to her shoulder, "Do you have a way home?"

Y/n found herself effortlessly staring into the gaze of her behavioural analyst professor. "I erm- I walk." She answered him as if he had willed the very words from her lips.

Spencer decided then and there; he wasn't having this. If not for the very feeling inside him that compelled him to take care of her, it was the fact she was a young girl walking alone at night. Quite frankly, he taught some of the men at this college - he didn't trust them. "Come on," He spoke as he wandered over to his car.

Yet, Y/n stayed where she was, "What?" She couldn't even think this was a possibility.

"I'll drive you home," He said as he stopped, just by the driver's door. "Don't worry, I've only had two drinks. I just want to make sure you get home safe."

She shook her head. As tempting as a drive home with her attractive professor was, she couldn't possibly. "I'm fine, honestly-" She took a step, tripping on her own two feet.

Luckily, Spencer caught her before her face hit the stone concrete. Her fingers gripped his wrists as he took a hold of her. They didn't let go - not straight away. A moment passed as Y/n raised her head as to meet her professor's gaze. "What were you saying again?" He made the point of making.

She let go and straightened her back, "Are you sure don't mind?"

His smile became one of empathy, "I'd rather do this than wonder what could happen to you alone."

And so, without another thought, she slipped into the passenger seat of Spencer's car. A part of her wanted to be home, wanted to be in her bed. The other, however, liked the idea of being here...with him. "It's erm, Rose court, the student accom." She informed. "It's probably only a five-minute drive."

Spencer thought about making the point that even if it was an hour's drive, he would have made it at that very moment. He wanted her safe. Maybe because she was a brilliant student, maybe because he was concerned, or maybe because something else was urging his actions. Something of which the man had had a conscious decision to push to the side.

Though, even in a five-minute drive, Y/n had been lulled into sleep. The safety of someone she knew, the comfort of the leather car seat and the way the drinks had made her drowsy. Her eyelids had grown heavy and she didn't put up a fight against it. 

When the car engine stopped, Spencer looked over at her. For a few seconds, he thought about not waking her. She was so peaceful, tranquil, with no worries, nothing but her own dreams. "Y/n," He whispered. Nothing. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Y/n, hey, we're here."

Slowly, her eyelids started to flutter open and she found her view of her professor. It was all real. It wasn't just an intoxicated dream. "Sorry," She murmured in response.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," He spoke before exiting the car and going round as to open the passenger door for the girl. "Are you okay to walk?"

She slipped her legs out, "I'm fine yeah."

Famous last words.

The moment her heels hit the concrete pavement, she wobbled right into Spencer's hold. "Okay, I'll walk you up to your room." He decided then and there, without even consulting the girl on such.

"I can walk up to my room, professor." She argued.

But all she was met with was a raised brow of uncertainty, "You can't get out of the car without falling. How do you think stairs are going to go?" That was something she chose not to argue with.

She started wandering up to the first door, searching through her bag for the keys. She swayed until she felt an arm wrap around her waist. Her body steadied. Her eyes found Spencer again. The subtle touch was making even her drunken, confident self nervous. "Is this okay?" He checked when he observed her unsure body language.

The girl swallowed, "Hmh." And then she looked away, finally grasping her keys.

Spencer watched as she stumbled over to the door, not daring to let his touch leave the girl. She slipped the key into the door and they were over the first hurdle. And then, stairs. "Let's go slow, okay?" Spencer soothed her through.

She gave nothing but an incoherent nod as she followed Spencer's steps. "Which one is it?" He questioned.

Y/n was pointing to a door across from the stairs, "B..B35." She informed as Spencer guided her to the door and she started looking for the apartment door key. "I've got it...somewhere." In the midst of her search, a thought came to mind. Her movement stopped and she glanced up over at Spencer, "Can I ask you something actually? While I'm, you know, erm-"

"Drunk?" Spencer chuckled as he finished her sentence.

"I mean, yeah." She couldn't deny such a fact. "I mean, I always wondered why you left the BAU? You always talk about it in lectures and it just- you talked about it with a lot of love." Spencer's smile faltered at the thought of nostalgic memories. "Sorry, if that's intruding, I just, I-"

"No, no, it's fine," Spencer's words were quick to ease the girl's worrisome thoughts. "I suppose I needed a break, a lot of things happened, I needed time away from the field to process them I guess." He explained, wondering if the girl would even remember any of this by the morning. Would she even know who dropped her off home?

She hummed, "Makes sense I guess." And like that, with no judgement or opinion, she went back to find her apartment key. "Here,"

Y/n swung the door open to her dorm, "Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Spencer checked.

"I think I can just about make it to my bed," She joked as she leaned against the doorframe. "Thank you, by the way." He didn't have to do what he did. Most professors wouldn't have done. But he, he was different.

His hands found their way back into the deep depths of his pockets as he replied, "I don't just have a responsibility to teach, but also a duty of care, I'm always here to make sure you're okay."

And he would be. For her, definitely. There was something ever so alluring about the girl. Something he would force himself to ignore. Something he wouldn't act on. Something which was inappropriate. 

[ahgasegotarmy116]

It's Hard to Believe | Jungkook One Shot

Summary: Getting pregnant with your best friend's baby definetly wasn't a part of the plan... Pairing: f!Reader x Jungkook (fwb, f2l) Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: A tiny bit of explicit and suggestive language but nothing crazy a/n: This is something I started writing at like midnight and it's kinda shit but I thought I might as well post it since I haven't posted in a while (Like five days short of a month wtf?!?!? How has it been that long?!?!) (I just barely checked rn lmao my bad 🥲) p.s. I kinda wanna do a full on series on a concept like this but it'll be different and less fluffy but that won't be happening for a long ass time but yeah lol Requested by a lovely anon 💜

"How am I supposed to tell him?" I ask my friend Sam for the millionth time since I found out. "Y/n just tell him. You guys have been friends for how long?" she asks and it's like I'm having deja vu from both of our responses. "Like ten years" I mumble and pull my sweatshirt sleeves down over my hands in an effort to stop my nervous fiddling but it only makes it worse. 

"Right and you guys have been messing around with each other for over a year now, maybe even more...I don't wanna know" she says while holding her hand up in a way to assure me that she doesn't need the details. "Just tell him. If he's as great of a guy as you keep on telling me he is then I promise everything will be okay" she says and places a hand on my shoulder before she gets up off my couch. 

"Where are you going?" I ask while she shrugs on her jacket. "Didn't you say he's supposed to be here around five?" she asks and I nod my head, checking the clock and seeing that it's already 4:30. 

"Yeah...are you sure you don't wanna stay and say hi?" I ask and she glares at me. "Let me know what his response is to that bun in the oven and then we'll talk. I wanna figure out if he's an asshole or not before I decide to waste anytime on him" she says while lacing up her shoes. 

"Promise me you'll tell him tonight?" she asks and lifts up her hood, getting ready to shield herself from the pouring rain outside. I nod my head reluctantly, that being way more progress than I've made for the past few weeks since I found out. "I promise" I utter under my breath and she smiles, pulling me in for a bone crushing hug. 

"Text me if you need me" she says, worried for what might happen but hoping for the best. "I will...thanks" I whisper and she nods her head before walking out of my door and turning slightly and waving to offer me one last farewell.

I close the door after I see her get into her car and lean my back up against it, steadying myself for a second and taking deep breaths, trying to stop my racing heartbeat before pushing off of it and tidying up before Jungkook gets here to distract myself. 

Sam has been the only one I've been able to count on and honestly the only person I can trust since I haven't told anyone else. She was the one I called when I missed my period and she's the one who brought me a pregnancy test...and then when out and bought me ten more because I couldn't actually grasp the concept that I was pregnant...am pregnant.

Jungkook and I have always been careful and taken all the necessary steps to keep this from happening but I guess we got careless this time. 

Through out this whole arrangement we've made it very clear to each other that we're not sleeping with anyone else but neither of us are looking for any sort of commitment either so that's why this has gone on for so long. 

Like it or not though we're going to be committed to each other in one way or another no matter what because I'm keeping this baby. No matter what he says I'm keeping them. 

Jungkook is my best friend, the one person who has been there for me through everything. He's seen me at all of my highest highs and especially at my lowest lows and no matter what he's never made me feel shitty about it. I know he's not the kind of guy that'll turn on you because of something like this but I can't help but still feel terrified. 

This wasn't supposed to happen but even if this child wasn't made with love from his side...it was made with love from mine. 

I don't know how long it's been since I fell in love with him but I know I shouldn't have said yes to this whole fuck buddy ordeal. I just couldn't stand the thought of him being with someone else so when he offered up the idea I said yes.

I figured that if this was a way to prevent him from getting his heart broken by all those sorry excuses of girlfriends he's had in the past then I guess I'll be okay with breaking mine.

He's been acting different lately though. He's been a lot touchier, asking to come over more often, going out of his way to help me with things, offering to feed me all the time and all of it is making me feel like he already knows. 

Does he know? Have I started showing already? I haven't really noticed a difference in my body yet but he looks at me naked a lot more often than I pay attention to myself naked so I mean I guess he could've noticed right? 

Only one way to find out though...

A half an hour later I hear him take out his keys and unlock my door and soon I'm greeted with a smile that tugs at my heartstrings. 

"Hi baby" he says, using that pet name he's become very fond of since this whole ordeal started. The sound of it after finding out I'm pregnant with his baby has made me a little uncomfortable though since I haven't told him yet. 

Don't get me wrong I love it when he calls me that but I can't help but think that if this goes south that he won't ever call me that again. 

Maybe the hormones have started to scramble my brain already because those uncomfortable feelings are quickly thrown away when I take in the sight of him after he shrugs off his rain coat. A simple black baggy hoodie and jeans engulf his form and the comfy sight just makes me want to curl up in bed with him and forget about everything and everyone.

Just him and I, it's always been him and I. I just don't know if this little one is going to change things. 

I place a hand on my stomach for a second as a way to gain some strength from my itty bitty baby before finally working up the courage to greet him.

"Hi" I greet him softly, walking over to where he's stopped to take off his shoes and when he looks back up at me he smiles again and kisses me. I sigh into it, savoring it for just a little bit longer and when it finally breaks he looks down at me with concern now written all over his face. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, sensing that something's off right away from the just the small change in the way I kissed him. I hesitate for a second then simply hold out my hand for him to take and he does, following behind me as I lead him over to my couch. 

Getting this over with sooner rather than later is my best option right now so there's no reason to delay. 

He needs to know, he deserves to know.

We sit there in silence, longer than he would like us to since I can tell how tense his body has gotten in a matter of minutes. "Y/n you're scaring me" he whispers, not wanting to pressure me but relaying his feelings. 

I take a couple more deep breaths before finally starting. "I need you to listen to me and I need you to please not speak until I'm finished" I say while looking down at my lap, not being able to meet his eyes. 

He murmurs a soft 'okay' and waits for me to continue, taking one of my hands and placing it in his lap. He needs some form of physical contact to keep him grounded since he's not too sure what to expect and I let him, knowing I need some reassurance too. 

Even if I don't know what his reaction is gonna be, in this moment I need it more than ever.

"I guess there's really no right way to go about saying this because this wasn't supposed to happen so I'm just gonna come out and say it..." I start off and he squeezes my hand, encouraging me to keep going. 

"I missed my period...over a month ago...and I haven't had it since then" I say and finally look up at him where he has an unsure expression. It's not one that mad or disappointed with what I've said thus far which is a good thing but more like he's trying hard to hold himself back so he can keep that promise. 

His hold on my hand hasn't loosened, in fact it's gotten even tighter and that gives me hope that we'll work this out so I take another deep breath before continuing. 

"I tried to kid myself into thinking that it was late but when another week passed by I got nervous. I asked Sam to get me a test and it came out positive. I didn't believe it and thought it was a false positive and so to ease my mind she went a bought ten more from a bunch of different brands and...all of them came out positive" I say and he still looks at me with that same expression, waiting for me to give him the okay to speak and so I do. 

"How long have you known?" are the first words out of his mouth and although they're not negative they aren't necessarily positive either. "About a month now" I say and he nods his head, taking another second or two to formulate what he's gonna say next. 

"I'll support you no matter what you decide" he says and I let out a breath I didn't even know I had been holding in. "I wanna keep it" I say and he nods his head and smiles softly at first and then as the seconds go by it gets wider and wider making my heart beat faster. 

"Am I allowed to get excited now?" he whispers and I can't help but chuckle as tears start to prickle my eyes and give him a nod. "You're excited?" I say, my whole being slowly overcome with emotion. 

"How could I not be?" he scoffs playfully but that answer has me confused. "But Jungkook we're not together. I mean we're not in a relationship, we're just friends" I explain and there's a playful glint in his eyes after I say that that's making me even more nervous.

"You wanna know what I thought you were gonna tell me?" he offers up, slightly changing topics but I look at him in a ways to urge him to continue. "I thought you were gonna break up with me" he says and I smile, "Jungkook we're not together. How could I break up with you?" I chuckle in disbelief. 

"Correction, I thought you were gonna break up with me before I even got the chance to ask you to be my girlfriend" he says with a grin and my jaw drops, the dots all connecting as to why he's been acting so different lately. "You were gonna ask me to be your girlfriend?" I utter quietly as if we were in a crowed room and I had a secret for just the two of us.

"I had actually planned on asking you tonight" he explains, walking over to where he had placed his backpack on the floor, taking out a bouquet of slightly squished flowers. "Sorry they're all beat up. I forgot and rode my bike over here so I didn't really have any other option but to put them in there" he says almost as if he was nervous, rubbing the back of his neck and it's then that I notice how pink his ears have gotten. 

He is nervous

I take them from him and smile, waiting for him to say it but he simply stands there and admires me and I can't help but laugh. "What so funny? I told you what happened to them" he utters through pouty lips which only makes me laugh more. "No, no it's not the flowers it's just that...don't you have something to say?" I ask, calming down my chuckles and when he looks at me with the same confused expression I have to try my hardest to keep the laughter at bay. 

"Do you have something you would like to ask me Jungkook" I rephrase it and after a second his lips go from a pout to the shape of an 'O' as he's figured it out. "Oh um, yeah, right. Well I um" he starts off, rubbing the back of his neck again while stuttering and trying to find the words and after struggling for a second I decide to poke fun at him again. 

"Jungkook I am literally carrying your child and you're too afraid to ask me to be your girlfriend?" I laugh, giving him a slight reality check which he scoffs at before responding. 

"I was trying to remember what I had rehearsed to say to you but now that you're being a little brat I guess you'll never get to know all the nice things I was gonna say" he retorts, his voice suddenly taking on a darker tone that sends a shiver through my body and he smirks when he sees my reaction to it. 

He cups my face and rubs his thumb along my bottom lip, making them part and he leans in as if he was going to kiss me but stops just shy of my lips. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he whispers, nudging his nose against mine and making me smile. 

"I'll have to think about that" I play coy with him which he chuckles at. "You know if you weren't pregnant right now I would have thrown you over my lap for that smart mouth" he warns and I smile before leaning in and kissing him for just a second before pulling back. 

"Yes I'll be your girlfriend" I say and nudge my nose against his as well and before I can register it my back is on the couch and his lips are pressed against mine, the kiss not rushed but full of so many words that have yet to be said and he gives in, not being able to hold it in anymore.

"I love you" he says, pulling back and looking down at me to see my expression which is completely dumbfounded to say the least. "You what?" I ask and he chuckles, "Is it really that hard to believe?" he points out and I guess now that I think about it it really isn't.

"I guess we've both been in love with each other for a while now huh?" I smile and his eyes light up at my round about confession. "Say it" he says, and I can feel my cheeks heating up. I hadn't planned on actually saying those three words to him even though I've felt them for so long but I don't want to hold them back anymore. 

"I love you" I whisper and he smiles, "Say it again" he repeats, clearly not believing it just yet. "I love you Jungkook" I say and the little switch up with attaching his name to the end darkens his gaze. "I guess there's not chance in me getting you pregnant a second time right now huh?" he asks, sliding his hand up my thigh and I giggle. 

"No I think that's pretty much impossible but the odds are never zero" I say and he rolls his eyes. "I'm trying to tell you that I wanna hit it raw" he states the obvious while rolling his eyes. "I know I know...and the answer is yes Daddy" I tease, testing to see how that word affects him now that he knows.

He tongues his cheek at that making me bite my lip, knowing that's gonna be even more of a trigger word for him from now on. "Daddy huh? Well I guess that title is a little more fitting now isn't it?" 

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[wolfiesmoon]

I can't sleep

Ran x good girl!reader

Do i want a bad boy (literal criminal) bf? Yea but i would probably cry if he insulted me or got into trouble in any capacity at all

(i am totally not unironically vibing to pretty little psycho while writing this)

edit: i made a part 2!!

"I dare you to kiss Haitani Ran." Your friend nudged you.

You knew you shouldn't have agreed to this stupid game of truth or dare. You knew your friend was going to make you do stupid stuff like this.

"Like... the big scary delinquent guy?" You asked, hoping you heard her wrong.

"Yeah, that Haitani Ran." Your friend smirked mischeviously.

"How about I don't do that?" The last thing you'd want to do is get involved wth any delinquents or gangs. You have no idea how dangerous Ran could be and even if he wasn't you'd still refuse to kiss a good for nothing delinquent.

"Are you trying to get me killed?" you followed up, realising just how bad this dare could end up.

"You do know that refusing this dare means that you have to do anything I say for a week, right?" Your friend had a horribly evil look on her face. You don't even want to know the things she would make you do if you refused this stupid dare.

But is kissing Ran any better? Pick your poison, you suppose.

"Fine, I'll do it." You said behind clenched teeth, not at all happy about this outcome. You've never even kissed before, and now you have to kiss freaking Ran Haitani. You might actually die.

Why did you agree? What is wrong with you?

This might just be the worst day of your life.

You ended up being a little unfocused in class, making your teacher worry.

.

"Haitani-san." you call out to him, your voice dying off slightly at the end due to nerves. You're the only ones left in the classroom, with your friend watching from behind the door to make sure you actually do it. He looks back at you and you feel a shiver run through you.

Oh my god, you're actually doing this.

He stops, waiting to see what you want with him. You move closer to him, and his eyes narrow slightly, as if he's getting a good look at you.

"Now, what could the class president herself possibly want with me?" his tone was slightly mocking and you would have showed him you're not to be messed with but honestly you'd probably be the one losing in that scenario.

You inhaled sharply, pulling him down by his braids and planting a kiss straight onto his lips. This feels like a bad shojo plot, the "good girl" falls in love with the "bad boy" and kisses him all of a sudden. Except there's no romance involved here. Just a dare.

Is this how you kiss? Why does it feel so strange? That should be enough, right? You can feel your parents shaking their heads dissaprovingly already.

Ok, now you're just kissing him for way too long. It's time to let go. And you try to, you really do. Since when were his arms wrapped around your waist, anyways? And why isn't he letting you go?!

You can feel your friend's evil stare burning into your back. This is not amusing!

He laughed a little into the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer. Oh, so they're both going to enjoy your suffering now, you see how it is.

Still, kissing him isn't half ba-

Ok, you're actually losing it. You need out and fast.

You wriggled out of his grasp, running away as fast as your legs could take you. You heard both Ran and your friend yell something behind you but you honestly don't care.

Why did you ever agree to do this?!

.

That same thought persisted even as you tossed and turned in bed that night.

"Oh god, he's going to send his goons after me and I'm gonna die... And then I won't ever get to become successful..." you muttered to yourself.

"Or maybe he's gonna come and kill me myself after school tommorow... Ugh..." you can't come to school tired, you won't be able to pay attention in class that way. You can't ruin your perfect record by falling asleep in class.

Who cares about the perfect record?! You should be worried for your life!

"And what is that stupid noise, anyways?" you muttered, grumbling and getting up to inspect the source. Another stone hits the window, making you jump slightly. You walk to the window and open it, narrowly avoiding a stone that was thrown your way.

"Sorry!~"

Wait. You'd recognise that voice anywhere.

It's Ran.

"What are you doing here? How did you even get my adress?" you half yelled, not wanting to wake up your parents.

"You shouldn't sweat the little things. Come downstairs." he was smiling calmly, but you still couldn't tell if he was threatening you. Actually, is that his motorcycle parked next to him?

"You should probably put on a jacket too. It's real cold." he added on, and you nervously closed the window, quietly sneaking downstairs and putting on a jacket. Your pyjamas are not the most presentable, but you really don't want to test his patience right now.

You met him outside. What is he going to do to you now?

"Get on." he pointed to his bike, catching you off guard.

"Not without a helmet, riding a motorcycle without one can be really dangerous and you could lose your life." you couldn't help but bring up safety regulations. It's in your nature.

"I told you, don't sweat the details and just sit down." he completely ignored you, pushing you in the direction of the bike. You complied, sitting down on it awkwardly, not sure what to expect. He doesn't seem violent...

He sat down behind you, revving up the engine and just driving off without a care in the world.

"W-Wait!" you were shocked at the speed, grabbing onto him by instinct and missing the way his lips curved up at that.

"Where are you taking me?! I never consented to this!" you had to yell over the sound of the engine, shutting your eyes. He was right, it really is cold when you're riding on a motorcycle.

"And you know what I didn't consent to? That kiss." he replied and your face scrunched up a little, cringing at the not so distant memory. "But that's fine, because that means you're mine now."

"Huh?!" you finally opened your eyes, looking up at him. His expression was a little hard to make out since the only thing illuminating it was street lights that you were speeding past. Is he even following the speed limit?

"I value my sleep, you see. And that little stunt you pulled made me unable to fall asleep. So I figured I might as well give you a little visit." he placed a hand over you protectively, making you worry about your safety even more.

"Who would have thought the top of the class good girl would fall for me?" he looked down at you.

"I did not fall in love with you! It was a dare!" you shot back.

"Oh well, doesn't matter. You're my girl now. And that's that."

[vagabond-umlaut]

l'heure bleue

Ferocious, fearsome, infallible. The King Of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna, has never fought a war he hasn't won.

But, does that mean he'll taste success in this battle of beliefs, raging against no one but his Queen, as well?

▸ trueform!sukuna x wife!reader; sooo much of tooth-rotting! domestic fluff between sukuna & reader; sukuna is so exhausted, still so fond of his dear wife; said wife is not too soft towards her husband [she has valid reasons, dw]; talks on death; indirect talk on periods & pregnancy; 0% ANGST IN THIS– ONLY FLUFFY HUMOR; spoiler alert— would-be-dad!sukuna x would-be-mom!reader

▸ belongs to the series 'mine? yes, mine.' but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

"I'm dying. Very soon."

While not the deep kiss you've always welcomed him with, into your chambers, every night of your married life— Sukuna reckons, he will take this many many times over the tense hush you've been offering him these days.

Shrugging his heavy cloak off his shoulders, the King of Curses walks over to where you're on the bed and frowns, fingers moving to thread through your unkempt hair, then run down the side of your face. Your eyes flutter close for a beat– undoubtedly, from the gentle caress, he surmises– before they grow wide open, blinking with tears of fear.

Rubbing the pad of his thumb over your wobbling lower lip, your lover sighs, knowing full well where this conversation might be going– still, as always, he decides to humor your concerns with an ask of his own.

"Did my Queen visit the royal physician, along with Uraume today?"

"No," you shake your head meekly, "I did not visit the physician. I was resting in our room the entire day."

"If you weren't feeling well, you could have asked her to visit you here, right?" your husband queries, sitting down beside you and pulling you into his lap. Snuggling into him with a soft hum, you send a miserable look his way— eliciting something eerily similar to the emotions, your husband knows, no curse like him should ever be able to feel.

Yet here he is, feeling every one of those, with his wife in his grasp.

You shake your head a second time; however, with greater force than before. "No. I knew I would be dying soon but I did not want to hear it from her. I wanted you to tell me that awful news, my king. I love you, I wanted you to say it. To confirm it."

You love him, so he must confirm your imminent death!?!?— Stunned by your odd words of reasoning, Sukuna gapes at you, dumbfounded; before he shakes himself free of the shock, discerning you to be three words, or even less, away from dissolving into your pathetic wails.

He smooths the top of your head with a palm, whilst another palm of his squeezes your hip, hoping the action will bring you some comfort. You place a small palm over the latter, voice growing shaky when you say, "Won't you confirm the terrible news, my lord?"

"No," Sukuna's quick to deny you in an instant, "Because I firmly don't believe you're anywhere close to dying. You're as healthy as a horse— or whatever idiotic creature, you humans use in your idiotic idioms."

A facsimile of a smile threatens to erupt onto your lips— it is vanished before the next second— with you crumbling into a mess of tears and snot, face pressed into his chest, whilst your fingers dig into his back.

Sukuna stifles a weary sigh, before wrapping his arms gingerly round your midsection, taking extra care not to jostle you or anything. "You aren't dying anytime soon, my Queen," he struggles to coo, but ends up grumbling, "I won't let you ever leave my side– you stupid woman. You're stuck with me forever– don't I always tell you that, my Queen?"

"You do, Sukuna," you mumble, with a weak nod of your head, "But I do feel so close to dying every moment of the day— so weak and so dizzy and so nauseous– even you've become so careful with me, my king!" you exclaim, red-rimmed swollen eyes glaring accusingly into every ruby eye of his.

Filling him with an addicting thrilling delight he has never felt before.

"You've always been so rough with me— Now, when you're being so gentle with me, out of nowhere, tell me: must the implication of you thinking me to be fragile, along with those awful symptoms– not be worrisome? Must I not think, you consider me to be near my death– hence, this newfound wariness? Hence, you, and even Uraume, who has always been so free to speak their mind before me– the both of you walking on stupid fucking eggshells around me– tell me, 'Kuna!"

A silence punctuates your outburst, filled only by the sounds of your noisy breathing– the latter replacing the sounds of your crying.— An odd yet not unpleasant, emotion taking over the shape of his mouth and curving it upwards, Sukuna drags a finger down your backbone, relishing in the way you shiver, then relax with a sigh under his touch.

Letting your temper to ebb away for another good minute, your lover inquires, keeping his tone void of anything except curiosity, "When is the last time you used your pain-relieving bath salts, pet?"

Your eyes blinking slowly, Sukuna watches them travel to the cabinet where you keep them stored in stacks, before returning to him, quite puzzled. And fatigued.

Adorably small yawns escaping, you murmur.

"I only use them when it's that time of month, which was..." Your eyes flutter open and close, painfully slowly, yet again— before they widen, becoming not unlike the full moon in the sky tonight.

You gasp, shaky fingers poking your belly before reaching a rest on it.

Covering them with his much larger ones, your lover hums, "Happy?"

"Not at all," you shake your head, reaching your other hand to trail the many tattoos on your husband's face, before stopping at the apple of his cheek.

Sukuna swears time ceases to exist in the momentary pause you take— restored only by the blinding beam you offer next, followed by your sweet voice uttering those words, he knows he'll remember for all the millennia he will live.

"I'm very, very happy— you dummy prehistoric curse."

▸ masterlist

[felibrary]

our love has always been 10 centimeters apart - aventurine

synopsis: the two times the both of you were away from each other even though the only thing you’ve longed for was each other, and the one time where the two of you find your way back to one another again.

pairing: aventurine x reader (gn) | wordcount: 2.0k | content & warnings: unestablished relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, reader cries a bit (tiny bit), mentions of alcohol and “sex” (an idiom = get into one's pants) but no graphic mention of sex + they’re not drunk, kissing, making up and making out (one kiss), tba if i find more, proofreading is for losers (its 4am (cet) i'm just too lazy); oneshot

tags: @azullumi (i swear that grey block with spikes from mario literally looks like "alpha sigma boss. you guys agree right?? prove azul wrong.)

img credits: @/magnolia29 on x!

a/n: i started this draft at like 12 an and procrastinated for god knows how long but yeah!! hope this is okay for what sleep deprived me wrote lmfao

“you seriously still wear that thing?”

aventurine points at the wool scarfs you’re wearing, it hangs a bit loosely due to you not wrapping it around your neck enough.

“yeah, got a problem?” you tease, grinning as you look at him. “it’s the first thing i got from you when i was moved to this department.”

ah right. he remembers the day vividly. they said that a certain member has risen quite quickly in the past few months and will now be moved to his department: the strategic investment department.

on the first day of work, aventurine, like the thoughtful senior he is, came up to you and greeted you, offering you a tour around the building and introducing you to the staff and everyone who worked here. you agreed and followed him as he guided you around your new workplace.

the two of you got along quickly, exchanging laughters and telling each other jokes as the two of you were strolling around the building. he remembers gifting you an expensive scarf, one made out of the finest wool in the whole galaxy. you thanked him wholeheartedly and at that he couldn’t help but invite you out for a drink - like the mindful senior he is, of course.

drinking after work became a little habit for the two of you. sometimes the two of you were able to drag veritas or topaz along, but usually veritas denied the invitations, saying “he doesn’t want to mush up his brain due to the alcohol.” as for topaz she usually came along to look after the two of you, but today it seemed like there was an emergency regarding numby, which she had to rush to immediately. leaving you and aventurine alone.

which led you to your current situation, the two glasses of alcohol in front of aventurine are left untouched, everything that happens right now is done with a sober mind. he can’t put the alcohol to blame.

your hands are close, they're a mere 10 centimeters apart from his. it takes everything inside of him to not take your hand in his and smother it in kisses, but he refrains, he can't - he shouldn't even be thinking about something like this.

your soft lips lean forward to meet his, they're a mere 10 millimeters away from his. you continue to launch forward, he doesn't move away, he can't move - he's frozen. you assume he granted you permission to kiss him. your hand snakes towards his, loosely intertwining the tips of your fingers.

your lips ghost over his - the distance between the two of you is gone, it scares him. he fears he might not be able to return if he goes this way. 

aventurine can’t help but pull away from your tantalizing touch, it hurts him. but he’s scared.

he slips his fingers out of your grasp, lurching backwards, uncomfortably shifting on the big sofa and scooting back, to move away from you.

your eyes shoot open, clearly filled with confusion. your lips slightly part open and you tilt your head to the side, irritation is written all over your face.

"s-sorry." he apologizes quickly. "i don't think i'm made for this," he mutters. regret immediately overcoming him and you.

"ah, don't worry. i should be the one apologizing. i'm sorry. i shouldn't have just assumed your feelings. forgive me." you try to maintain a steady tone but your voice and expression betray you. your voice quivers - it breaks, it sounds like you're holding back tears that are about to spill at any given moment.

no, no , no this can't be. it's all his fault. he ruined everything once again, his gift was a mere misfortune, it only caused bad luck. 

your hand that was once connected with his slithered away from its previous position, this time you really were gone.

perhaps this is when aventurine realized that the both of you weren't just mere inches apart but the distance between the two of you went beyond planets and galaxies and thus could never be conquered.

the two of you were worlds apart.

it’s been a few years ever since he’s seen you. (there hasn’t been a single day where he hasn’t thought about you.) apparently someone caught wind of what happened between you and aventurine, of course they reported it right away. initially it was planned to fire you, for making a move on one of the ten stonehearts, especially as someone who stood below him. 

but aventurine convinced them not to do so, saying he’s also at fault and that they should just make you move departments, perhaps you’d learn from your mistakes. it was successful - he was beyond relieved. he didn’t show it, the only thing that was visible to them was a cunning smile. 

behind it, beneath the faux smile, he was clenching his teeth, biting the insides of his lips so hard that they began to bleed (he wishes that you were there to trace the outline of your lips over his once again, mending to his wounds - both, the one on his lips and the one in his heart.) his left hand was trembling behind his back as he awaited their judgment.

eventually you did get moved to another department and aventurine didn’t visit you, too caught up at work and business matters on other planets. 

(it’s a lie - he knows that himself, it’s just to avoid you. it’s for the better he thinks, better for the both of you to not meet. he fears that all the feelings he kept hidden inside his chest will return and turn his world upside down once again.)

one time he overheard some co-workers gossiping about “the person who got into mr. aventurines pants” getting sent onto a mission that’ll take several years. “what a pity that they won’t get to see him anymore.” a female voice giggles as the other voice hums in agreement and they walk away.

lies. all lies, it had to be. both that you “got into his pants” - hell it was a mere kiss that the two of you exchanged (not even a kiss because he shied away.) but it had to be a lie that you were sent away right? right? It’s just rumors, just some gossip that people need to pass their time, it can't be. 

of course, to his dismay, it had to be true. 

his luck was truly a misfortune.

spring has come, the remaining snow melts away and turns into puddles. the skies started to clear up and flowers that were once covered in snowflakes, hidden beneath the white blanket of snow, started to open up again, blooming in their full glory. 

but there was another flower he spotted, one that stood out from the others - you. after all this time, he’s finally found you. 

this time he doesn't falter.

he runs up to you. pulling you into a tight embrace as he hugs you. his nose is buried into the wool scarf you’re wearing, he took notice that it’s the same one he gifted you back then. your scent mixed with his still lingers on it.

“aventurine?!!” you shout, surprised to see him again after all those years. 

“you kept it..” he whispers fondly. huh? you’re confused, what is he talking about? “the scarf i mean.” he says without looking up, as if he knew what you were thinking without having to see what expression you wear or hear your voice and which sound you’ve uttered.

“of course, i did.” you say bitterly. “after all, it's the last and only thing i have left from you.” you whisper, a frown finds its way onto your face.

“no. that’s not true.” he protests, finally looking up. it's just like the last time he saw you, your eyebrow furrowed, your eyes telling him that you’re on the verge of crying - similar to when he rejected your advances. “you have me now.” the words barely above a whisper.

“oh aeons, dont, please. i beg of you.” aventurine is quick to put his gloved fingers on your eyes and rub them softly, collecting the tear drops that are about to run down your cheek. “you know i hate seeing you like this.” he whispers quietly as he removes his glove from his hand and rubs circles over your cold and reddened cheeks. 

“i missed you.” you hiccup in between your cries, aventurine continues to catch your tears, he won’t allow you to cry any more - especially because he’s the reason why you’re tearing up.

“pshh.” he tries to quiet you. “ive missed you too, probably more than you know.” as an attempt to reassure you.

“i’m here now, i’ll stay with you, i’ll follow you wherever you go.” he leans forward, this time he’s the one initiating the kiss and you gladly return it. his chapped lips meet yours, kissing you messily. there’s some biting and teeth clashing but he couldn’t care less, neither do you - after all this is what you’ve been waiting for.

there's no distance, no fronts, no walls to separate the two of you. he's never felt this kind of love - your love. he hasn't been held this lovingly for an eternity, this is the first time he actually somehow feels human.

boundaries is a word foreign to the two of you, they've never been there - they never will be there because from the beginning on aventurines heart has only sought after you.

it used to terrify him, the way his heart always seemed to jump out of his rib cage upon seeing you. the louder and faster the pumping got the closer you leaned in - just like back then.

but exactly because of that or rather because of you he discovered a new part of himself, diving into an ocean of emotions that were anchored to the bottom of the water, anticipating the daz they'll be discovered and treasured in one's heart. those feelings were unknown to him until he met you.

"what should i say once we meet again?", "what should i do to prove that i'm ready now and don't fear to love or be loved anymore?", "how can i prove my love to you?"

those questions have haunted him in his restless nights, the ones that made him wake up from his deep slumber where he dreamt of you, forehead glistening with cold beads of sweat, gripping his bed sheets tightly. (all of his thoughts and dreams are filled with you.)

the beauty of this world has always been hidden beneath a window curtain, he was oblivious - blind, just how breathtaking the world can truly be.

but you came along, pulling the curtains away, revealing the outside world to him. you stepped into his life and shattered the glass that kept him confined behind the window.

you confessed your unyielding love for him. you love him - you've always done and you always will - you imagined a future which he was a part of. where the vibrant colors of the sun not only greeted you but also him as he laid next to you, side by side. watching as the rising sun kisses your skin with its tendrils of sunshine. 

(he'd follow the rays of sunshine and kiss the same spots they marked, he'd leave a trail of kisses along your body.)

how can he ever repay you for what you've done for him?

a mere thank you wouldn't suffice - not in a million years.

if you were to ask him if he'd give you the sun, the moon, the stars or the whole sky - he would.

if you were to ask him if he'd get on his knees for you - he would, no questions asked. be it when he prays to you, pleas leaving his lips and dripping off his tongue or when he'd kneel down on one of his knees to tie your shoes or propose to you - he would.

if you were to ask him if he'd stay by your side all night or rather all life long - he would. he'd be your light that'd guide you even though the flame went extinct, he'd be your flesh you'd nibble on, he'd be your blood you live off.

he wouldn't hesitate for a single moment, he'd give you everything you yearn and long for in a single heartbeat.

after all, that's the least he can do for you.

@azullumi here extra paragraph again hhihihihuuh anyway when's the stoner!chuuya x stoner!reader fic like where??? also azul i love you a lot. you deserve the best - you deserve the world. i hope you get accepted into your dream uni, get everything you've worked hard for (u deserve it, you're a person full of determination) and yeah convince ur teacher to extend the deadline!!

© VYNICITY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

e/n: it's 4am rn im sooooo tired but yeah here!

[chimielie]

girlfriend

summary: Iwaizumi x F!Reader. you might be his girlfriend—but she's his girl.

word count: 2.4k

cw: hurt/comfort. a lot of reader insecurity. fear/mention of emotional cheating but there is none

a/n: this actually fills @akimind's request for my 500 follower event one million years ago but the formatting is tooo hard so. here it is!!! iwaizumi + angst + college au + "that's not what i said." LOVE YOU SORRY HOPE IT HURTS AND IS ALSO ENJOYABLE. <<<<3333333

You didn't mean to fall in love with your boyfriend.

You hadn't gone into this expecting Hajime to become your boyfriend at all, actually. You liked him. Liked how easy it was to be with him. How warm he was when you let your touch linger on him and pretended it was more than a flirty friendship. You hadn't ever predicted it would become so, because Hajime was hung up on his ex-girlfriend.

They'd traveled over oceans to be together, coming to Irvine from the same prefecture in Japan. They had still been together when you met him, her head tucked beneath his chin, his arms wrapped around her waist. Your first thought was "oh, he's beautiful." Your second thought was "they look like they're made for each other." You shoved the first thought deep inside a secret crevice of your brain and stuck out your hand to introduce yourself with a bright smile.

The strain of new adulthood got to them, though, or so you assumed: you were never privy to the gory details of the breakup. They remained friendly, in the same friend group, and it just always seemed obvious to you that they would someday reconcile. It wasn't until two years after their break that you were able to start showing regular, platonic affection to Hajime without feeling like an attempted homewrecker.

It was just before graduation, having dragged him away for a late-night bite to eat so neither of you would starve to death studying for finals, when everything flipped on its head. Your plan to energize the both of you had backfired; you were yawning every other sentence and came close to laying your head on the table before Hajime put his palm down in front of your face.

"Come sit next to me," he'd said, so you maneuvered around into his side of the booth and been promptly pulled into his side. You had looked up at him, murmuring a sleepy question that was more wordless noise than actual English, and that was it. Something you didn't understand softened his gaze, and then he tilted his head to the side and brushed his lips over yours.

It was a perfect first kiss.

In the weeks following it, you had bounced violently between insisting to yourself that he hadn't meant for you to read too far into the kiss and your natural instinct to go after what your heart wanted. And the more he proved that it wasn't a one-off anomaly, that he could kiss you right out of drought into a superbloom, the more you were convinced. Iwaizumi Hajime wouldn't knowingly break your heart.

When Hajime asked you to be official, wildflower bouquet in hand, the lights of the now-empty graduation pavilion shining down on the both of you, you said yes, your whole heart and none of your brain in the matter.

As you entered your apartment hand-in-hand with him, greeting all the friends who had gathered there to celebrate the end of undergraduate school, you remembered that the key modifier in "Iwaizumi Hajime wouldn't knowingly break your heart" was knowingly. He seemed happy enough announcing the development to everyone else, and then she had walked in, carrying a bottle of wine that almost slipped from her grasp when she saw your proximity. He had dropped your hand—just for a second, but it had happened, and then picked it back up like his sentence hadn't died in his mouth at the sight of her.

He'd always gotten a little defensive when people mentioned their relationship, his features shutting down into a blank, tight expression. Though they obviously weren't as close as they had been for most of their lives, they were still both part of your friend group, and he always seemed to laugh just a little harder at her jokes, kept eye contact a little longer, got embarrassed more easily around her. You didn't want to be jealous or insecure or possessive, but it just felt more increasingly obvious that you were a rebound, a cheap, temporary dupe meant to fill in until Hajime realized and returned to the love of his life.

It was hard to be angry at him, though, because you knew with every fiber of your bleeding heart that he wouldn't do this to you on purpose. You knew he thought he cared for you, that he thought he had moved on. He did a good job almost every day coming very close to persuading you of it, enough to keep you from breaking up with him and leaving him behind, but never quite erasing your insecurities for more than a few weeks at a time.

One of the first mornings you woke up in his bed, well rested and sore in all the right places, he was missing. You got up, mourning the softness of his sheets and the scent of him on the pillowcases, and slipped into one of his shirts before leaving his room to explore.

He was cooking, shirtless in the kitchen, and if that wasn't one of the yummiest things you had seen in your life.

"Good morning," you said, leaning against his counter.

"Very," he returned, flipping an egg in the pan. "Looking like that. I think—I mean, it seems like that shirt always gets chosen to be the boyfriend shirt." He had narrowly avoided saying her name, but you had heard it threatening to tumble out of his mouth. You bit back a response, but your smile still dropped, and he spent the next hour making allusive, sorry overtures without either of you actually acknowledging the slip.

You never wore that shirt again. He gave you another one, you accepted it, and life moved on.

Except you had somehow become mired in the past with a relationship that was long over, and without university or a job to distract you—you were starting at the end of September, which felt aeons away—it was eating you alive, especially as Hajime left for a preliminary return trip to Japan.

"Did you hear how Mattsun and Makki greeted him when he landed?" You sit in the car on the way to the airport, packed in with Hajime's ex, successfully hyping yourself up to see him again until she addressed the group.

"Oh, yeah," you laugh. "So funny." You haven't had a conversation with Hajime that had more depth than "how are u? miss u" for the trip's duration. She's your friend, too, though you've never been close, but there's something unbearable about admitting it to her now, when you're so unsure of your relationship's current status. It has to mean something that he was keeping her updated and active in his life, didn't it?

You find solace in knowing that you don't blame her at all. If you could find an ounce of resentment for her in your heart, you would probably have left Hajime by now—isn't that the mark of a truly evil plot-pushing girlfriend?

You cry when you see him again.

"Happy tears," you assure him, and hide your face in his shoulder.

Later, alone in his apartment, you bite your lip when Hajime asks if you want to sleep over.

"Okay, babe, I don't want to pressure you," he says, and you can feel yourself tensing up as he speaks. "But I feel like you've been—off all day. Is everything okay?"

You blanch and focus on the cowlick on the right side of his head, the one that's endeared him so much to you, so you don't have to look him in the eyes. Too much is bubbling up in your throat, your brain thrown into overdrive, and he's staring at you with so much worry in his eyes it's just not right to leave him hanging:

"No."

Hajime makes a noise you don't understand, low in his throat. "Is it because I didn't call enough while I was gone? Because I can explain that, I promise."

"No," you rush to explain. "I don't—it wasn't you, exactly. I've just—ever since we started dating—I think you still love her."

You're picking at your nails, a bad habit you've had since you were small, and he takes your hands in his, smooths his thumbs over the torn cuticles.

"I don't," he says, finally, neutrally, though his face hasn't formed into the cold mask you're used to seeing when she's brought up. "Ever since we started dating?"

"Before," you admit. "I always thought you would get back together. You just seemed so made for each other."

"But we weren't," a little pucker between his eyebrows forms. "So—what did you think when we started dating?"

"When you first kissed me," you say, "I thought maybe it was a one-off. That you wanted something casual. And then it got more serious, and I thought maybe I could just suppress my insecurities until they went away, and I mean, I really thought you liked me."

"I do," his voice grows more agitated, his lips thinning out.

"Yeah, but..." You trail off. "You would do things that made me think, oh, he's just the perfect guy, they just looked so amazing because I was jealous, and then every so often I'd see you interact with her and it wasn't like how we are at all. I know the insecurity is my own fault, that's not on you, but I feel like it's holding both of us back."

"What do you mean holding us back? You don't think you make me happy?" He snaps, and you wince.

"Not like you are with her! Every time she comes in the room you get this look on your face, like you're speechless. Like-like the songs, Haji, I just..."

He lets go of your hands, crosses his arms.

"Do you really think I'd do that to you?"

"No, Haji, I know you'd never cheat. That's why I fell in love with you! You're a good guy, but I don't want you to wake up one day and break both our hearts because she's meant to be your girl and I'm just your fucking girlfriend." Your eyes sting, your chest heaving by the end of the sentence.

"You love me?" He's quieter now, giving you a little more space to breathe.

"What? That's not what I said."

"Yes, it is," he says, a little smile growing at the corners of his mouth, as though he can't control it. "You love me."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand why you're focusing on that," you wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. "It's true, I just don't get it."

"Because you make me happier than she ever did," he promises, crowding you up against the counter and motioning for you to jump up to sit on top of it after you can go no further. "I'm weird when she's around because she's my ex, sure, but not because I still want her. It... ended badly. It's a miracle we didn't pull the entire friend group into it, and I never wanted to make her look bad to them, so I'm always trying really hard to look, uh, normal around her. We're on better terms now, but I haven't wanted her in years, honey."

"She knew about what you were doing when I didn't," you mumble, feeling small in the stormy release of emotions. "And she knows so much about you I don't in general."

"We grew up together," Hajime reminds you. "It would have been one of the guys. I know I didn't tell her anything. You can check my call history, my texts."

You shake your head. "I believe you."

"Really?" He arches a brow, and you laugh and push gently at his shoulder.

"Yes, really."

"You know how long I had a crush on you before I did anything about it? I thought you weren't interested, and then you finally started being even more affectionate with me than you were with our other friends, and I took the chance."

"Rookie numbers," you preen under his gaze. "I liked you... pretty much as soon as I met you. But I suppressed it 'cause I didn't want to be a homewrecker."

"You're sweet," he chuckles. "I promise, you have nothing to worry about there. I'm never gonna wake up and not be grateful to see you drooling on my bed."

"You're the worst, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," he looks at you fondly, swiping his thumbs under your lower lashes. "You love me, though."

"Oh," your lips part. "And the not calling in Japan?"

He scrunches his nose. "I was trying not to spoil anything. I wanted to, uh, discuss it with you first, but you should know my friends and family are all waiting to embarrass me if I have to turn everything around now."

"Okay? I'll consider your dignity, but I make no promises," you tease. He drops his head to your shoulder for a moment, taking a deep breath, and you wind a hand into his hair, petting him until he straightens.

"So, you know how I have that paid internship opportunity back home?" You nod, not wanting to be reminded. You'll do it for him, but... long distance sucks. "I went to their office and turned it down. I want to go through with my doctorate."

"Oh, that's huge!" You gasp. "That's incredible, I'm so happy for you!"

"So the part that has to do with you is, um," he says, "you're planning to stay here, right?"

"Yeah," you say, "my next step is like a twenty minute commute, thankfully."

"I want to finish my schooling in the States," he tells you, "and then after that, I want to go wherever you go."

"Hajime," you start, but he puts a shaking hand on your knee, and that shuts you up.

"I love you," he says seriously. "It's like I said, okay? You make me happier than anyone else. I know you're the one for me, if you'll have me. If not, I get—"

You grab his face and smash your lips into his, and if that doesn't get the message across? You don't know what will.

[cupcakeslushie]

First || Prev || …

Here’s the next part of the Kendratello AU! I knew it was going to be very dialogue heavy, so I figured writing it out would be fast, but I’m so ready to be done with it that I’ve not really beta read it. So I apologize for any errors. But enjoy!

Splinter loves his sons, but these last few days have been eating away at his already shriveled and fraying nerves. Watching his children ambling around their home, for months, each in varying states of anxiety, fear, and distress, hasn’t been easy on his old heart.

They’ve been through so much, experienced more hardships than Splinter has ever wanted for them. But the latest crucible tearing his family apart was caused, not by some ancient demon, or world-ending threat—but a fiendishly smart, young woman.

One who’d kidnapped his son and replaced him with a stranger that Splinter hardly recognized.

The bitter tale is too familiar for the old movie star to painlessly swallow. It seems fate played such cruel tricks sometimes. Always seeming to strike harsher the second go around. With outcomes even more brutal and painful. His son was stolen by a hateful, sadistic woman, and kept locked away, until she was satisfied with the new toy that emerged from the shadows.

So it stands to reason how…relieved Splinter had been that one, early morning. When his three sons had pulled Purple into his bedroom, piling into his bed, nothing but wide eyes and panicked shouting; one over the other. Looking back now, he can recognize how short-sighted his quick relief had been. But in the moment, as a father, Splinter had only seen this new, strange development as a blessing.

Donatello might have been confused, and irritated with his brother’s manhandling, but Splinter could clearly see more life in those eyes than he’d witnessed in months. Splinter had shushed the rest, and spoken to Purple directly, finally getting a better grasp on what his sons were shouting about.

Amnesia.

So, of course, relief. Because how could forgetting all those horrible, tortuous weeks in that woman’s grasp, possibly be a bad thing? By some miracle, Splinter’s boy had been returned to him. Nowhere near that frail ghost of Donatello, which Splinter would sometimes find curled up on the floor of his own lab, screaming Kendra’s name and sobbing to be returned to her care.

He had been spared all of that, like it never happened. Their family had been handed a gift, and Splinter truthfully wasn't interested in the whys of it all…

Until Michelangelo chose to contact Draxum, and words like “brain damage” and “tumor” were thrown into the mix.

An entire day of testing yielded…varying results. They were able to rule out the scariest of options. No dark shadows were seen in the X-rays of his son’s beautifully brilliant brain, and no concerning squiggles were pointed out by the Hidden City doctors who studied the fast moving waves appearing on the EEG. It was all a bunch of nonsense to Splinter, but Donatello nodded like he agreed, when he was handed the papers over to inspect himself.

Everything was normal, physically.

That left the most difficult part of the day. Getting his son to speak to a psychiatrist—seriously, and without snarking back at every possible question he would eventually be asked.

Draxum had thankfully picked a good one. Briefing her beforehand on…everything. She seemed prepared for Purple’s special brand of cynicism. The sheep yokai was apparently at the top of her field.

A tentative diagnosis of “dissociative amnesia” had been given, along with a small number of pamphlets and printouts. The doctor had informed Splinter that certain treatments might improve Donatello’s situation, but no cure had been discovered for something like this.

They would just have to take things one day at a time. And they’d been doing so well. Almost like everything was back to normal.

Splinter had become very good at ignoring that pending feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He smiled at his sons every day onward, like nothing was wrong. And all of them, in return, began falling back into a more comfortable ease around each other. The stress had just been starting to loosen in Red’s shoulders and jaw. Orange was giving real, honest smiles again. And Blue was no longer a shadow around corners, hiding from Purple like a bomb he was scared to set off.

But the other shoe that had been the root of Splinter’s dread, finally dropped, and the rug was pulled from under their feet once more, violently, with no warning.

Even after they’d managed to calm Donatello down. There was no negotiating the terms of his reality, and he was stubbornly convinced that the world around him was fabricated. Without caring about the consequences, he refused to be civil towards any of them, treating them all like jesters in a play, where no one had the script.

The family’s usual process for dealing with Purple’s anger–letting him cool off alone in his lab until he collected his thoughts–was unfeasible this time around.

Splinter didn’t think he could ever forget the image of his son, turning the knife he held in his hands inwards, and threatening to end his own life.

No; leaving him alone was not an option.

Which led back to Splinter’s previously mentioned frayed nerves.

Four days into this new, stressful change, and his genius son was still managing to find creative ways to sneak past their watchful eyes. Six attempts, in total. Each time, caught with seconds to spare, and just as traumatic for everyone involved.

Raphael and Michelangelo at the moment, were going through their home, removing every sharp implement they could find. Anything that could possibly be used to “put an end to the loop” that Donatello was convinced he was stuck in.

While the two performed their important task, Blue and Splinter had the harder of the two jobs; watching Purple.

Splinter was currently sitting comfortably in his chair, but it was far from his usual level of relaxation. Despite plenty of bean bags to occupy, the twins were locked in a shoving match. For some reason, they were fighting over the single, smallest one they must’ve owned.

“If you don’t get out of my personal space, I swear to Oppenheimer you will regret it, Leonardo!”

“And I swear to Ryan Renolds, that I’ll shred all of your softest hoodies if you kick me in the nuts one more time!”

“That Barbenheimer joke doesn’t even make sense, you idiot, that was Ryan Gosling!”

“Who mentioned Barbie? I’m talking about Deadpool and Wolverine!”

“What does that movie have to do with anything?!”

“Fuck dude, what did I just say about nut shots!”

“Then get out of my kicking radius, and your non-existent nuts will be safe!”

“BOYS!”

Both his sons quickly pause their arguing, giving their father their undivided attention.

“Leonardo, go help your brothers.” Splinter demands. “I will watch Purple. He has not had a moment of free time from any of you in days, and it is clearly wearing on all of us.” Blue gives his father one of his patented unimpressed stare downs.

“No offense, Pops, but how is you watching him, any different than me?”

“Because I will sit in my chair, and Purple will scroll on his phone, and there will be quiet.” Splinter can’t stand the bickering any longer. He knows both his sons will benefit from this time apart. It’s just convincing Blue of that.

Donatello’s gaze is boring holes into the back of Leonardo’s head while his second oldest son matches Splinter’s scrutiny. The rat can see the need for some fresh air battling against Blue’s desire to stay close. But Leonardo is his sharpest son, and even he can admit that his constant presence has become too grating for his brother.

“You need to watch him like a hawk, Dad,” Leo glares at his twin out of the corner of his gaze, “sometimes you can get a little…distracted.”

The new projector, playing Splinter’s same old programs, flashes against the curtain hung on the wall. The volume is set to low, but Blue still looks pointedly between his father and the screen. Splinter doesn’t blame him for his concern, so he tries to put all the gravity he can into his tone, enough that when he does promise to stay vigilant, it seems to convince Blue to place his trust in him.

Purple stays quiet through the exchange, only breathing a sigh of relief once his brother is long past the threshold of the den. He looks ready to lean back into his hard won pillows, but Splinter realizes that Blue had something of a point. Donatello is positioned quite far from him, and he’s suddenly nervous about catching something in time.

“Purple, how about you come sit with me.” Splinter suggests it kindly but firmly, and with a smile– so his son can’t refuse. He pats the bit of cushion next to his legs, “I will honor my promise to leave you alone, but I would be much more relaxed if you were within my reach.”

His boy merely blinks at him, blank faced, and staring at the very spot that Splinter has just created for him.

It isn’t as though his recliner is small, even if Splinter himself is. Donatello had custom made it for him, after one too many complaints about his old brown one hurting his back. It practically swallows Splinter, but remains just stiff enough to provide plenty of support for his lower back. He could even lay sideways and still have some space to stretch.

Splinter recalls very clear memories of all his sons fighting for a spot by his side when they were younger. But it has been some time since those days…perhaps Donatello thinks he’s far too old for such a thing as sitting by his aging father. Yoshi remembers himself at eighteen, and shudders. He’s forever thankful that no matter how lacking his parenting skills might have been, that his boys are kinder to him than he ever was to his Jiji.

Donatello pulls at some invisible thread of his black leggings. Since this new alteration of his memories, Purple has taken to wearing more layers. It’s nearing fall, but not nearly cold enough for the large sweatshirt, black leggings AND socks that his son is currently donning.

Splinter just barely hears Purple murmur a jumbled, “Huh?”

Splinter catches some sort of emotion actively being suppressed behind the bewildered shock at his offer, but it’s hard to tell what it is. Over the years Splinter is ashamed to say, he has grown very bad at reading his own children. Especially Purple, who, if he was being honest, has always been very hard to decipher.

Splinter starts to think the offer will be rejected, when Purple finally climbs to his feet and ambles slowly over. The unknown emotion skittering at the edge of Donatello’s expression morphs into something closer to suspicion. This one easy to identify, especially when it practically drips from his next words.

“Trying to endear yourself to me won’t sway me into falling for your tricks.”

The barb is said just as unkindly as everything else Purple has thrown at his family these last few days. Splinter lets it slide off him like water. He knows his son would (probably) never speak to him like that if he wasn’t stuck in such a painfully clear mode of survival and uncertainty.

“Yes, yes.” He says, untroubled. “Come sit and I can finally lean my chair back.”

Donatello watches him the entire time as he cautiously settles into his spot. He yelps when Splinter grabs his ankles and pulls his son’s long (thin, still much too thin) legs across his lap. For an instant, Splinter freezes, growing worried he’s overstepped. The act had been done without a thought. It’s the way Purple has always liked to sit, finding it more comfortable than any other way. Donatello preferred to keep his distance. A deviation from his siblings, for sure.

Michelangelo would press as close as possible, two sides smushed together like a hug, only without the constricting limbs (though, if Orange were ever to fall asleep in Splinter’s chair, those too would eventually find their way to catching him in their hold).

Leonardo preferred to sit on the arm of his chair, never staying still for long enough to find a comfortable position. But when he slumbered, after a long night of binge watching Novela’s with Splinter–he would curl up, head in his father’s lap, limbs held tight to his body. Like he was afraid even that was asking for too much.

Raphael, his poor, eldest son, hadn’t sat with him in so long. Splinter could still remember a little turtle tot in red, climbing up and splaying out onto his lap when he needed a good cry–or just a moment of peace from his much too loud siblings. Sadly, it wasn’t long before his Red was too big, and his father too small to provide such a refuge. The last time Raphael needed consoling; after the Krang, Splinter had been forced to climb up onto his own son’s knees in order to reach and wipe away his tears.

In the few rare instances of Purple seeking out physical touch, this was all he would allow. Legs stretched over his father’s lap, but his upper body was always off limits. Pulled just far enough away from the threat of any sort of long term contact.

Splinter used to wonder if Purple was scared to ask for anything more, like Leonardo, or if he thought depriving himself of a comforting hug would make him seem stronger, like Raphael, or even the rare times when Michelangelo wished to appear more mature and refused to be comforted. Eventually, Splinter caught on to the truth. His son was asking for comfort, in his own unique way. He was content with the minimal amount of closeness, as long as he felt like he was able to dictate the terms.

But one thing Purple would always allow his father to do, was loop his fingers around his ankles. Trusting the grip would hold his legs in place and keep him stable. He once said the pressure was small enough that it wasn’t overwhelming, but strong enough that it could ground him when everything became too much.

Even now, the act of reaching out to pull his son’s long legs up had been so instinctive. When Splinter looks over and sees the uncertainty still on Purple’s face, he knows he’s pushed too far too quickly.

It’s a risky move, but he’s already pushed, and it’s something that never fails, not once since he’s discovered it.

Purple has always been the most ticklish of all his brothers. Another thing that never really helped his sensory issues. But Splinter long ago discovered that there was a particular spot, which could always earn him a giggle and a brighter smile.

Splinter grips the meat of Donatello’s right knee and jiggles it back and forth. The silly action seems to do the trick and knocks something loose in his son’s overwrought head. His gamble pays off spectacularly, and Splinter is overjoyed to see a small smile erase most of the uncertainty clouding Donatello’s face. It isn’t a full peal of laughter, but the wariness makes way for something softer, and the huff of air from his nose is just as rewarding as a full body laugh.

His boy rests his shoulder and head onto the cushioned back of the chair and Splinter presses the button that will lift up the leg rest, and recline them both into a more restful position.

After a few moments of quiet, Donatello slowly pulls his phone from the pocket of his hoodie. Even without looking directly at him, Splinter can feel his son watching and waiting for the reprimand he thinks will come. Instead, Splinter raises the volume of his show just loud enough for him to hear, but not enough to completely shatter their peace. He wants to make Purple feel more at ease; like he’s not being constantly surveilled–not providing more overstimulation.

They sit like that for some time. Splinter rubs a thumb back and forth across the meatier part of Donatello's calves. He’s learned that repetitive touch is the best kind of grounding technique for Purple. The patterned motion always worked to calm his nerves.

Even still, after only so long Splinter catches Purple lowering his phone.

He keeps his own gaze forward, locked on his commercials. Splinter can see, without looking, that his son is studying him, trying to take apart something in his mind that he doesn’t understand. Splinter allows him all the time he needs to gather his thoughts.

Finally Purple speaks, “Dad…?” It’s so quiet, if Splinter hadn't been waiting for it, he might’ve missed it.

He pauses the repetitive kneading for just a moment, squeezing his hold, and humming in order to prompt his son to continue his thought.

“Can I tell you something?” The inquiry is whispered to him so delicately. It takes everything in him to keep his face open and soft and his movements steady. It’s clear that Donatello is trying his best to remain aloof, but his gaze is locked on his hands that are settled in his lap, the fingers of one pulling on the digits from his other.

At some point he must’ve put his phone completely away. Splinter feels the pressure of having Donatello's complete focus aimed at him.

The tugging intensifies. Splinter wonders if he should reach out, but he’s not sure how well that would be received. It doesn’t look painful just yet.

“I don't know what Kendra is accomplishing by showing me this.” Donatello growls, suddenly digging his palms into his eyes like he can still feel the weight of the screen blocking his vision. “Trying to make me happy, only to rip it all away from me? Or attempting to make me feel, even more like a useless burden than I was?”

It’s the first crack in his armor that Purple has shown in days. A clear sign that he was not as unaffected by Kendra’s lies as he’d been trying to project. Donatello sighs, but as it dies out Splinter thinks it sounds closer to a sob.

“You can’t tell the others…” Donatello looks at him with wet, desperate eyes, and it’s unclear if his son still doubts who he’s speaking to, but Splinter works to ease his fears all the same.

“I swear, whatever you tell me will remain between us, alone.”

Donatello nods faintly, eyes trailing downwards once more. Splinter may have had trouble before, but now the many emotions jumping across his son’s face—fear, shame, frustration, all are easy to catch.

With a shaking breath he whispers his secret. “I lied.” He’s crying now, real tears that he doesn’t even bother to wipe away. The pulling at his skin grows more violent, and Splinter finally interferes to carefully pry Donatello’s hands apart before damage is done. In place he cradles his son’s hands like delicate porcelain and runs a thumb over Donatello’s palm.

“I told everyone that I could tell. That I wasn’t being fooled, but that’s not exactly true. The last few loops have…it’s been getting harder, and harder to remember things— how they really happened. Too much is…plausible.”

Splinter keeps silent. This confession has clearly been weighing on Donatello. He deserves to get it all out, and hopefully feel lighter for it. Even if Purple suspects the family, something is letting Donatello open up enough for him to share his fears.

“There was one loop…Mikey broke…he broke the remote…When I said I didn’t have time to fix it. He threw the pieces at my head. He would never do that, though…right?”

“No, of course not,” Splinter answers immediately, quick to banish the doubt from his son’s mind. Donatello only blinks at him, like his thoughts are moving too slow, and cannot comprehend such a simple, stark contradiction to what he experienced.

“It felt so real…it all feels so real. But…I could feel how one of the sharp, broken corners had cut through my mask and how the wet fabric stuck to my skin with blood.”

Donatello raises a hand and touches the spot where the phantom wound must’ve sat. The pain now gone, but the memory of it haunts his eyes and rattles the tremors building in his hands.

“I thought…I thought I was handling this—maybe not well…But I’d hoped I would be strong enough to last until you all came for me…And now Raph is saying it’s already over.”

It’s a simplified form of the truth which they had tried to get Purple to believe, but even that much clearly doesn’t sit well with him. “If it is over, why does my body feel like one massive bruise? How did you all find me? How long did I last? Was I in there long enough to…?”

He’s clearly scared to ask Splinter any more questions, so he trails off, curling in on himself and pulling his hands up to his chest, pressing there, as if checking to make sure he feels something still beating.

Splinter decides he’s waited long enough and slowly pulls Donatello out of his hunched ball and guides his head to his own chest, making sure his ear is aligned against his own pulsing heartbeat.

Donatello resists slightly at first, but the moment he’s close enough to catch the sound, his breath catches and he glues himself to the spot.

“I don’t want to be there anymore,” Purple murmurs. It sounds like sleep is catching up with his son, the exhaustion pulling him down and slurring his words.

Splinter cups the back of Donatello’s head and carefully tug his fur lined blanket down from where it’s been sitting on the back of his chair. The blanket slots over the both of them and Donatello curls even closer to his father, tucking himself into his warmth.

“Go to sleep, when you wake up, you will be right here.” He’s sure to say it softly but with as much reassurance as possible, and Donatello seems too tired at this point to hold onto his doubts.

“Okay…,” Donatello mutters. Then, practically hanging on to the waking world for one final query hesitantly asks, “…Dad?…Do you love me?”

Splinter doesn’t even think. “Of course, my son.”

Donatello’s breathing finally evens out, and Splinter feels a few tears finally escape.

He’s not sure what next steps they should take, or what kind of state his son will be in when he wakes, but Splinter can only hope this is progress. He prays it won’t be undone…but regardless, Donatello is home. Any steps back or forward will be taken together, and that is the most important part.

[hiitsm]

Through Rain and Pain

Angst, Fluff, Comfort

Note: this piece is a bit over the top.

Note: I've been feeling very anxious lately, a big deadline coming up next week. I won't be able to get any writing piece out for this weekend but I still wanted to give you all a little something.

-

As you step onto the Johan Cruijff Stadium in Barcelona for the pitch inspection with both teams, a wave of gratitude washes over you. Your club, though not widely known or fervently supported, largely due to its all-women roster, has defied the odds to reach the Women's Champions League first round.

Facing FC Barcelona Femení is a daunting challenge, and you secretly acknowledge that they are likely to win, yet the sting is softened by the fact that your girlfriend plays for them, along with many of your friends. You hold a quiet hope that next season will see you joining their ranks. Negotiations are already in motion, and you trust that the universe will align, allowing you to move to Barcelona and spend your days with your girlfriend by your side.

The stands of the Johan Cruijff Stadium are already buzzing with FC Barcelona fans, including Alexia’s family. You spot her mother Eli, sister Alba, and Uncle Richard among the sea of supporters and make your way over to greet them. Your journey here had its own set of challenges. Upon arriving in Barcelona last night and heading to the hotel by bus, your coach informed you, with a notable lack of sympathy, that your jersey had been forgotten, and there was no backup available. This oversight made you sigh heavily with frustration.

Thankfully, Alexia’s family has always been a pillar of support, not just for you and your relationship with Alexia, but for your career as well. Remembering that you had given them one of your club jerseys this season, you called Eli in a mix of embarrassment and desperation, asking if she could bring it to the stadium. You decided to keep this mishap from Alexia, knowing she would be outraged by how your coaching staff had overlooked their star player. You didn’t want to add to her stress or incite any trouble before the game.

As you approach Alexia's family, they greet you warmly with hugs. Eli immediately hands you your jersey, her expression clouded with concern. "I can't believe they did this to you. You need to leave that club," she says, echoing the protective nature that Alexia herself often shows. "I know, we are working on it," you reply with a heavy sigh, the weight of the situation evident in your voice. "But thanks to you, I can play today. I'll catch up with you all after the match!" you add, offering Eli an apologetic smile before heading back to the pitch, ready to face the game ahead.

You turn around to find your girlfriend standing there, a playful grin spreading across her face as she opens her arms wide for a hug, clearly amused by the slight jump you gave. "Did I just see my mother handing you one of your jerseys?" she asks, her eyebrow arched in a mix of humor and disbelief.

"Yes, because they forgot mine, but it's okay, these things happen, right?" you respond in a rushed whisper, hoping your swift chatter might prevent her from grasping the full story. But Alexia knows you too well and the concern is evident in her voice as she presses, "How could they forget you?"

You feel her hand grip your arm, a physical reminder for her to stay calm rather than confront your coaches then and there. "Just this season to finish, amor," you reassure her, trying to ease the tension.

She looks up at you, her eyes softening. "Te amo mucho," she whispers, her grip relaxing. With a smile, she releases you, wishes you good luck, and turns to greet her family with a quick hello.

You chat with a few teammates from your side before heading to the changing rooms to prepare. Your coaches deliver their typical, overly optimistic speeches about how much better your team is than FC Barcelona and how you can defeat them. You might have believed them, just like everyone else on your team, if your girlfriend wasn't Alexia Putellas.

You know firsthand the dedication she puts in as captain and the effort every player on their team invests. You see the hard work they put in, not just during training, but also at home.

Deep down, you know your team doesn't stand a chance. But you won't voice that. Instead, you smile and motivate everyone because they love the game. It’s going to be an exciting match, and playing against the best in the world is a valuable opportunity to improve your skills.

As you walk onto the pitch, now ready to face the match, the weather takes a turn, with pouring rain coming down from the sky. This is going to be a tough match.

Starting as a right winger, you quickly realize your teammates rely on you heavily, passing the ball to you every chance they get. You barely catch a breath, constantly helping to defend against Barça's relentless attacks. When your team does gain possession, they blindly pass it to you, trusting you to drive the offense. The coaches have built their tactics around you. It's a lot of pressure, but you're handling it well.

As you defend once again, you execute a slide tackle, tapping the ball away. However, the heavy rain causes you to slide further than expected, ending up on your stomach and chest. Suddenly, a sharp sting hits your right side, and you take a moment to catch your breath before attempting to get up.

Your girlfriend, notices that you haven't risen immediately. Despite being your opponent in this match, her concern for you takes precedence, and she quickly rushes to your side to check on you.

Alexia reaches you swiftly, placing a gentle hand on your back as you lay on your stomach. Meanwhile, your team takes advantage of the pause for a quick water break and a chat with the coach. "Are you okay, amor?" she asks softly.

"I don't know, something doesn't feel quite right," you say breathlessly, the sting in your side intensifying. Alexia's expression grows more serious as she looks at you closely, her eyes widening in alarm at what she sees.

Quickly, she positions herself in front of you, shielding you from the view of others. Confused, you hear her speaking urgently to her teammates, "Formen un círculo para tener privacidad y llamen a un médico." Her voice is fast and anxious, a clear sign of her worry.

As she sits on the field, her hands holding your head gently, her legs positioned protectively next to your sides, she notices small glass splinters on the field. Rage fills her, because how could their stadium have glass on the field? They even checked beforehand.

"There's glass on this field!" Alexia shouts angrily to the referee. The referee quickly sprints off to address the situation with the necessary personnel. Alexia immediately turns her focus back to you, her concern evident in her eyes.

"Just stay like this, okay Bebita? I've got you," Alexia says lovingly, her tone both soothing and protective. As you glance down, you see that your shirt has been sliced from the right neckline across to your left side. It has also cut through your bra, revealing your breast.

You're bleeding significantly on your right breast, with the rain making it more challenging to manage the bleeding. Panic rises within you, and you grip Alexia's hand more tightly.

"It's okay, Bebita. We've formed a circle for privacy" she reassures you, her voice calm and soothing. "I'm staying right here with you, okay? I just need to stand up for a moment to make room for the medics." She offers you a soft smile, her eyes filled with reassurance and unwavering support.

"We need to turn you onto your back so they can help you, she whispers, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "I'm here and not going anywhere. There's privacy, but if you feel uncomfortable, just call out to me, okay?" Her voice carries a hint of worry, yet remains soothing. You nod, squeezing her hand in acknowledgment. With Alexia's gentle assistance, you carefully turn onto your back, feeling her steady presence beside you, providing comfort and strength in this vulnerable moment.

As your team's medics finally arrive, they are momentarily shocked by the sight of all the blood, unsure of what to do. Alexia quickly signals to her team's medics for assistance. "Por favor, ayúdenla," she pleads worriedly, and they swiftly get to work. "They will put their hands on you to examine, okay?" Alexia gently squeezes the hand she's holding.

"Okay," you reply, feeling insecure and embarrassed despite knowing you shouldn't.

"It's going to be okay," she reassures you, squeezing your hand softly once more, her presence a comforting anchor amidst the chaos.

"Necesita ir al hospital para que le quiten unas férulas de vidrio" a medic tells alexia after they checked you for a second. They can't do much unfortunately.

You find yourself wincing in pain, the Spanish words barely registering in your mind. "What did they say?" you manage to ask your girlfriend, your voice strained with discomfort. She looks at you with gentle concern and translates, "They're going to place you on a stretcher and take you to the hospital to remove the glass splinters and stitch you up."

Grateful for her honesty, you nod slowly, trying to process the impending ordeal. "Will you be there?" you inquire, a hint of insecurity creeping into your voice. Her response is immediate and reassuring, "Sí, mi amor," she says softly, her words like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

As the realization sinks in that the match will be delayed for further inspection of the incident, you feel a mix of frustration and relief. But in this moment, with your girlfriend's unwavering support, you find solace amidst the chaos.

Lying on the stretcher, you feel the tape pressing against your skin, a feeble attempt to staunch the bleeding from the wound. A blanket is draped over you, shielding you from prying eyes and preserving whatever dignity remains in this moment of vulnerability. Your girlfriend hovers beside you, her worry etched across her face like a deep furrow.

When the paramedics inform her that she can't accompany you in the ambulance, her expression shifts to one of dismay. "I'm going to mi mami, and we'll drive right behind you, okay, amor?" she assures you, her voice a blend of reassurance and determination. Despite the separation, her promise brings a flicker of comfort, knowing that she'll be close by every step of the way.

As the ambulance speeds away, Alexia dashes towards her mother, sister, and uncle who are still seated in the stadium, their faces etched with confusion and concern. "We have to go to the hospital," she blurts out urgently, her heart racing with worry as she vaults over the barriers to reach them, having already informed her coach of the situation.

"Más despacio, hija, ¿qué pasó?" Eli's voice quivers with anxiety, her maternal instincts kicking into overdrive the moment you went down. She craves answers, needing to understand what happened to you in the blink of an eye.

Tears brim in Alexia's eyes as she recounts the harrowing incident, her emotions finally breaking through the facade of composure she had been desperately trying to maintain. "I don't know how, but there was glass on the field, and it cut right through her. We need to go now," she chokes out between sobs, her voice trembling with fear and frustration.

Alba, noticing Alexia's very distressed state pulls her into a fierce side hug, enveloping her in a comforting embrace, while their mother and uncle join in, their solidarity a soothing balm to Alexia's frayed nerves.

In those precious moments of shared warmth and support, the chaos of the situation momentarily fades into the background as they rally together to bolster Alexia's spirits.

After a few calming breaths and reassuring words exchanged between them, they rally into action, rushing towards the waiting car, their united resolve driving them forward as they prepare to face whatever lies ahead at the hospital.

[ackermai07]

Hi! Could you write a one shot for Bakugo, Todoroki, and Kirishima where the class is watching a movie or something at the dorms and their crush falls asleep on them? I can see the boys getting all blushy when she unconsciously snuggles up closer to them 🥰🥰

Thank you!

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ˢᵒ ᵃᵈᵒʳᵒᵇᵃˡᵉ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗ ᵘᵍʰʰʰʰʰ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸˢ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗⁱᵉ ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ ⁱᵗ

wearning! : pure fluff

Don't repost please!!

"Is everyone ready?"

Mina shouted, making sure everything was set and everyone was prepared.

In short, what was happening was that tomorrow is a holiday, and after a tiring week, the girls suggested the idea of watching a movie (the kind you like), staying up late, and enjoying themselves to compensate for the positive energy lost through training and studying, and of course, everyone agreed.

𝗕𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼𝘂 𝗞𝗮𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗸𝗶

The surprise was how this early-to-bed, serious guy had actually agreed to this silly movie night offer, but of course, no one dared to comment on it (they didn't want to be the reason for him changing his mind).

"Tsk... why on earth did I agree to watch this stupid movie in the first place," Bakugo muttered to himself, his eyes fixed on the TV screen where the movie was playing. Truthfully, he knew the reason he was here- 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

Bakugo had always admired your confident, composed, and intelligent personality, to the point where he found himself gradually falling for you, struggling to break free from its grasp.

Another annoyed sigh escaped his lips, feigning irritation as usual, but deep down, he was genuinely happy to be sitting next to you on the couch, able to inhale your soothing scent.

It didn't take another minute before he felt a weight on his shoulder. His eyebrow raised in confusion, and when he turned his head to see, he was met with your lovely, soft face resting on his shoulder. The boy swore he could feel his heart pounding out of his chest, and for a moment, he stopped thinking, just staring at you with flushed cheeks, thankfully unnoticed in the dimmed lights.

"Oi... you," he said in his rough tone, which seemed calmer, then lightly shrugs trying to wake you up. "You'll miss the damn movie... wake up."

Meanwhile, all he got in response was a sleepy nuzzle from you, moving closer to hug his side more, enjoying the warmth emanating from him.

Poor Bakugo stopped his movements and froze in place for about a few minutes. The first to notice was Kirishima, who turned to see what was up with his friend.

"Hey Baku-bro, what's wro..."

And there Kirishima caught sight of your sleeping form next to him, a wide grin spreading across his face. Even before he spoke, Bakugo silently gestured to him, thus ensuring he stayed close to you for a longer period.

He absentmindedly played with your hair, eliciting contented hums from you, which seemed to draw the attention of the entire class towards you two. Oh, and don't worry about any commotion; once Bakugo gives them the death glare, they'll turn away without saying a word.

(half of the class has fallen asleep already, anyway).

By the end of the movie, he didn't even realize he had fallen asleep, his head resting on yours, inhaling your refreshing scent and feeling your warmth.

(This incident might actually serve as a strong incentive for him to hurry up and confess to you as soon as possible).

𝗧𝗼𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗶 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁𝗼

It was known that Shoto often found himself in these kinds of nights, spending time with his friends, and with you, the love of his life.

Both of you attended the same middle school, and there were many clashes between you, but at that time, Shoto was only focused on his deep-seated hatred for his father.

Now, at U.A. High School, he found the time to develop his feelings for you, thus becoming immersed in love for you.

And there he was now, on the floor in front of the TV, covered with blankets for comfortable seating. You were sitting beside him, and oh, how difficult it was for him to focus on the movie content with you so close.

He also threw sidelong glances at you, admiring your focused face on the screen, and your slightly parted lips from concentrating so hard on the events. Honestly, he wished desperately to overwhelm your lips with kisses until you couldn't breathe (you can't really blame him).

As he was lost in his fantasies, he suddenly felt something descending onto his lap. And guess what? It was your head being placed on his lap.

The poor boy's brain stopped functioning as he tried to process what had just happened.

(He also felt like his heart stopped for a moment.)

"Y/n... y-you okay?" Shoto whispered softly to you, making sure only you could hear him, and his hand moved to brush a strand of hair away from your face, while a terrible blush spread across his cheeks.

The poor boy wasn't used to being affectionate :(

"Very... sleepy," was your only response as you hugged his waist and snuggled closer to his left side where warmth emanated.

Let's say he miraculously managed to control his quirk so as not to accidentally hurt you.

Meanwhile, the boy's heart swelled with emotions, and he found himself gently stroking your hair, a small smile adorning his handsome face.

And as soon as the movie ended, he carried you bridal-style and took you to your room under Momo's guidance, making sure not to wake you up at all.

On the other hand, he couldn't sleep a wink that night, but be prepared to receive the most beautiful confession in your life soon.

Bonus points: His desire to kiss you became unbearable.

𝗞𝗶𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝗮 𝗘𝗶𝗷𝗶𝗿𝘂𝗼

He was one of the biggest supporters of the idea, especially since you were the one who suggested it, so of course he would always support your opinion.

He always did, seeing you as a fun person who radiated warmth like the sun, an optimistic personality he fell for boundlessly.

You were always a source of inspiration for him with your positive energy, encouraging him and praising his perseverance, and in return, he gave you the brightest smile.

His friends somehow learned about his secret admiration for you (Mina was the reason... ahem)

and they always tried to involve you both more to bring you closer together.

This event was no different as they made sure you two were close to each other, leaving the couch for you to sit on together.

(Kaminari was included to sit next to Kirishima just to make it less suspicious.)

Now, in the middle of the movie, just like Shoto, he couldn't focus at all.

He was just captivated by the little sounds you made whenever an exciting scene came up or your eyes sparkled with interest at what was shown on the screen in front of you.

He was literally in his own world, worshiping your facial expressions and your gentle demeanor.

But at some point, he stopped paying attention to you, replacing it with discussing the details of the movie with Kaminari. Then, in a sudden moment, he felt something land on his chest... it was your head.

The boy quickly covered his mouth to suppress the scream that was about to burst from the depths of his heart.

In contrast to the two above, he had a quick response as he gently shook your shoulder.

"Y/n, y-you awake?" His voice came out as a somewhat quiet tune, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

"Sorry... feeling sleepy... just... a little nap." After that, you held onto his arm and used his muscular chest as a pillow, drifting back to sleep.

Because of your action, his quirk activated for a few seconds, and he slapped his own face out of embarrassment and happiness he felt.

Your sudden move caught the red-haired boy off guard to the point he didn't know how to react :(

"Yes, of course... it wouldn't be manly of me to move and disturb you," he muttered to himself in embarrassment, stiffening in his position before wrapping his arm around you to pull you closer to him.

But he forgot about Kaminari, who saw everything and struggled to suppress his laughter as he ran away, catching the attention of the class, only to stare at both of you in awe and admiration.

All I can say is that by tomorrow, you'll see plenty of pictures taken of you sleeping on Kirishima, and his friends endlessly teasing him about it.

Then get ready for his confession of his feelings for you.

ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ

ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ

sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ!

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝.

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Is It Casual Now? (Part 1) - Jennifer Jareau

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Reader overhears a conversation between JJ and Morgan and wonders what she is to JJ.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I’ve been listening to Casual by Chappell Roan too much lately and this is what happens when I do that. This is an AU where JJ and and Will are divorced, no cheating occurs.

TW: established relationship, angst, fem reader, typical cm case description, proposal

Rating: PG

——

“Yeah it’s nothing serious, we’re just keeping things casual.” It slipped so easily off her tongue, like there were never truer words said.

“I think I might be rubbing off on you JJ.” Morgan shot her an approving smirk.

Static filled your ears, completely muffling whatever crossword hint Spencer had been going on about.

“Sorry, I’ll be right back.” You mumbled, standing from your desk and walking quickly to the bathroom as you fought back tears. You know she wanted to keep things between the two of you quiet but you still couldn’t believe what you had just heard.

The door shut loudly behind you and the dam broke, tears rolling down your red cheeks.

You held your face in your hands for a moment, drawing deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down, but the mix of anger and sadness grew into a pit in your stomach.

After a few minutes you pulled yourself together, wiping your tears before looking in the mirror, bloodshot eyes staring back.

How could she say something like that? You knew when you started this that Jennifer wasn’t the most open to commitment, and you was okay with that in the beginning, but month after month she invited you deeper and deeper into her life. You know things that she’s never told anyone else, she built that trust between you without you asking for it.

You did what you could to touch up your makeup before returning to the bullpen, just as Garcia called the team in to brief you on the new case. You trailed behind the group, nervously straightening your skirt to distract yourself until JJ took her seat. You took one on the opposite side of the table, across from your usual spot next to her. She glanced at you, her puzzled look turning to one of concern when she presumably noticed the redness around your eyes. You broke eye contact, turning to face Penelope as she started introducing the details of the case. Truthfully you hadn’t been able to pay too much attention, you caught something about a double homicide, unsub targeting unmarried couples, staging their bodies as if in an embrace. It all felt a little too on the nose.

“Wheels up in 30.” Hotch repeated his usual mantra, dismissing the group to get ready for our flight.

You walked quickly out of the room, focusing on not tripping in your heels while hoping to avoid having to discuss anything with JJ right now. Her hand met your shoulder and you knew your escape plan had failed.

“What is up with you?” She asked, just above a whisper. You could hear the stress in her voice but you were having a hard time cutting her slack right now.

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Y/N, I know you, what’s wrong?” She grew slightly more agitated, eyes scanning yours. She could read you like a book, but you were not going to discuss this here.

“I’ll tell you when we land.” You were short with her, abruptly turning to break from her grasp, leaving to grab your go bag out of your car.

20 minutes later the team boarded the jet, and you took a seat at the table with Emily and Derek.

“Listen sugar, you know I like to see your pretty face anytime I can, but I have to know, what is going on between you and J?” Morgan joked, getting straight to his point.

“Nothing, we’re good.” You tried to lie, but with a team full of profilers, that’s not exactly easy.

“Really? The two of you are usually attached at the hip.” Emily added, her and Morgan exchanging a glance.

“Yeah, I just wanted a change of pace.” You smiled at the two of them reassuringly, pulling out the book you were reading before settling further into my seat and losing yourself in the pages.

When we landed you felt yourself shift into autopilot, going through the motions of setting up at the local precinct and pairing up with Prentiss to interview the witnesses and family members.

When the day was through the team headed to the hotel, Hotch handing out the room assignments. You knew this was coming, JJ and you always roomed together even before you started seeing each other, you were best friends before all of this and it was just routine at this point. You unlocked the door to the room, dropping your bag on the dresser and hurrying to undress and get in the shower as quickly as possible, partially to wash the grime of the day off, and partially to avoid JJ who you knew was only a couple minutes behind you.

As the warm water rushed over your skin you heard the door open and shut, followed by her footsteps nearing the bathroom door. Knock knock.

“You can’t avoid me forever.” Her voice rang from the other side of the door. You ignored her, taking your time scrubbing yourself down before rinsing off and wrapping a towel around your frame. You braced yourself for a moment before finally exiting the bathroom. Your footsteps stopped right outside the door, leaving ample space between the two of you. JJ sat on the edge of her bed, sending a text before tossing the phone onto the nightstand beside her.

“You said you’d tell me what was wrong when we landed, you’ve avoided me the whole day. Please tell me what is going on.” She seemed genuinely concerned, that gloss over her eyes that only appeared when she was on the verge of tears starting to form. Seeing her like that had you choked up before you could even open your mouth. You thought you wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine, but now you were regretting that more than ever. You never wanted to hurt her, even if the uncertainty was killing you.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You blurted out, the words catching in your throat as tears threatened your waterline.

“What do you mean?” She questioned, panic in her voice.

“I know we agreed to keep things casual but I can’t do it anymore, I’m in love with you.” Your voice cracked, a tear slipping down your cheek as your hands anxiously gripped at the edge of the towel wrapped around you.

“Babe, where is this coming from?” Your confession caught her off guard but not for the reasons you thought.

“The conversation you had with Derek this morning, you told him what we have was just casual.” You choked out, your body practically vibrating with emotion.

“That’s what this is about? You have to know I wasn’t serious, I was just trying to stop Morgan from prying any further.” She stood, taking quick steps to close the space between you two.

“I didn’t know if you’d want the rest of the team to know about us, I didn’t even know if you’d want there to be an official ‘us’ considering how this started, this is my fault.” Her tone grew more frantic, you rarely saw her this panicked.

“Stop.” Your voice was still shaky but you tried to be as firm as possible to snap her out of it. It worked, her expression going blank as she waited for you to speak.

“I need to know if you’re serious.” You finally calmed yourself, the rational part of your brain taking over.

“I am, I promise. This whole time I thought I’d never be able to commit to one person, but you have changed everything I thought I knew about myself. I love you.” She slowly wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you flush against her.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Her tone was soft, almost breathy as she brought her face closer to yours, your lips almost brushing.

Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest, you’d waited years to hear her say those words whether you were conscious of it or not, and now that it was happening you felt love-drunk.

“Marry Me.” You whispered, almost too afraid to say it.

“You mean it?” She asked, searching your eyes for any hint of doubt.

“Yes.” You were never more sure of anything you’d ever said in your life.

“Of course I will.” Her lips crashed into yours in a blur of passion and pain and years of built up tension finally being released. You could hardly breathe, having to remind yourself to do so in the heat of the moment.

——

Part 2 can be found here

Tag List: @lover-of-books-and-tea

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my Jennifer Jareau or general taglist :)

[zepskies]

OMG I KEED A PART 2 TO SAM HAVING A CRUSH ON DEANS GF

Like idk maybe say Sam didn't listen to Dean and tried making a move on reader? Like ofc he wouldn't ever do that *I don't think* but in this hypothetical scenerio it happens

Hey hun!

Oooof, that's hard. You guys really like this angsty love triangle stuff, huh? 😂 I genuinely think Sam would rather saw off his own hand than hurt Dean that way. But this is like, the only thing I could think of on this one. 😅

See this imagine for context: You are Dean's one exception.

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, one-sided Sam W. x Reader Word Count: 1,100

Imagine: Sam crosses the line.

Goddamn witches.

That's the last coherent thought Sam has, before his mind is no longer completely his to control.

Well, it's still his mind. His body. But the careful door in his mind and in his heart, reinforced with steel and chained shut with titanium, combo-coded, locked and loaded, now has broken hinges.

Thoughts he hasn't allowed himself to think for months are pried open, with a sick kind of enjoyment in pain.

You're his brother's girl. Sam can't help but love you. He wants you. And now, he might be able to have you.

The witch is dead, but the spell she just hit Sam with remains. He's not dead, so that's a plus.

"Are you okay?" you ask him, slightly breathless. You're the closest to where he's sprawled on the ground, so you go to him. You touch his arm, and he can't help but clamp down on your hand. He looks at you with the thinly veiled eyes of a hunter as he smiles. Because your concern reaches the deepest parts of him.

"I'm fine," he says.

But Dean reads the hunger in his brother's eyes. He's subtle in the way he grasps your shoulder and Sam's (noticeably tighter).

"But what happened? How do you feel?" you ask, trying to take stock of what you're all dealing with here.

"I uh...feel fine, actually," Sam says. He rolls his shoulders. His gaze focuses on you. Dean holds him back from getting off the ground.

"Get the book. See if there's a way to fix this," Dean tells you without taking his eyes off Sam.

Sam tilts his head at Dean, the beginning of an angry frown on his lip as you rush away to find the witch's spell book.

"What's the matter, Dean?" Sam asks. He doesn't bother to lower his voice. (He literally doesn't have a filter anymore.) "Afraid of what might happen when she actually has the chance to choose?"

Dean's lips purse as his eyes darken. "This isn't you. And when you wake up from this, you're either gonna hate yourself for even thinkin' what you're thinkin', or you're gonna have one hell of a headache."

Sam stares back incredulously. He scoffs. "What're you gonna do, kill me?" They both know that's not happening.

But that's also when Dean knocks him the hell out.

When Sam wakes, it's to you stuffing tissues in his bloody nose. He groans a bit. He looks at you and still wants. But when he looks down at himself, he's in the bunker, handcuffed to the war room table.

You look worried for him as you go back to your side of the table with the book. Dean is oddly nowhere in sight. Sam thought he'd be watching you (and Sam) like a hawk.

"Dean'll be back in a sec. He's trying to get ahold of Rowena," you supply. "But how're you feeling? What's the spell doing to you exactly?"

Sam rolls the kinks out of his neck and removes the tissues, even though his entire face radiates with pain. His brother once promised to break his nose, and he did just that.

"Basically? I think it took away my inhibitions," he replies. More like threw them in a blender and put his deepest, headiest desires into overdrive.

You frown. "Like a really bad bender, or a truth serum kind of thing? But why would he punch you out for that?"

Your gears are turning rapidly, weighing out all the options. You always were smart. Sam leans forward slowly. Noting your thread of wariness, his face softens. He doesn't want to scare you...

He sighs. "Listen...there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now."

He reaches out a hand. You're looking at him in frozen surprise. His curled fingers brush your cheek. He leans in toward your face.

But you flinch and pull away.

"What the hell are you doing?" you ask.

Sam should've known, but it still hurts him. His jaw clenches. The spell takes away his self-preservation, however.

Just as he might've tried with words to finally confess the depths of his heart, the door creaks open.

The sound of Dean's heavy boots approaching makes him flinch. But Sam looks over with an unrepentant stare.

Dean glances at Rowena, nostrils flaring. "Fix him." He gestures at Sam before he joins you on your side of the table, resting a protective hand on your back.

Rowena shoots him a droll look. "Only because you asked so nicely."

"I don't need fixing!" Sam argues, glaring at Dean. His voice echoes on the bunker's walls. "You're just afraid of what happens if she knows the truth!"

Your eyes widen further. You look from Sam, to your boyfriend. Dean's jaw is clenched tight.

"Okay, what the fuck is going on?!" you ask in earnest. Dean meets your gaze for a moment, his face tense. His reluctant eyes communicate to you things you never knew. Things that clog emotion in your throat. Dean turns back to Sam.

"Don't do this, Sammy. It don't end well for you," Dean says.

"Like hell," Sam retorts.

"Okay, sleep now, dear," Rowena says. And with a wave of her hand and a haze of violet, Sam's world once again blackens.

When he next wakes, he's in his own bed. Not restrained. He indeed has a massive headache, and it's hard to breathe through his still broken nose. He groans and turns, and his brother is there.

When the overwhelming guilt sets in, Sam knows he's himself again, with all the careful walls around his heart put back in place. Rowena must've broken the spell when he was unconscious. Dean can see the truth in Sam's eyes.

"There he is," Dean remarks dryly. "Our giant Jekyll and Hyde."

Sam inhales deeply. "Dean..." I'm sorry doesn't quite cut it.

"She knows," Dean says, after a moment. "Obviously."

Sam nods, swallowing past a lump in his throat. He hesitates to ask the next burning question, because part of him knows the answer.

"It doesn't change anything."

Sam's head turns at the sound of your voice. You stand in the doorway, with your arms crossed despite the disheartened look on your face. Your eyes meet his, steady and sad, but firm.

"I know," Sam says, with a small, self-deprecating smile. "I'm sorry...for all this."

"It's not your fault," you reply. Spell or no spell, the way he feels is not his fault.

You step into the bedroom and go to Sam's bedside, laying a hand on Dean's shoulder. That hand smoothes up his neck, and your fingers briefly thread into his hair. Another silent conversation passes between you and Dean, the way only lovers that close can accomplish.

After a beat, Dean nods and gets up out of his chair. He thumbs at your cheek; it's both an answer to your unspoken request and an endearment. Then he pats Sam's shoulder before he leaves you and Sam alone in the room.

Trust. That's what that is. Dean trusts you, and now that the spell has worn off, he trusts Sam again.

Sam meets your gaze. As awful as he feels, he still loves you. He knows you know by the way your gaze meets his.

All he wants to do is touch you.

To apologize, and to touch you.

He hates himself.

You shake your head. "I love you, Sam. As my friend. My brother."

"I know," he nods. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," you reply. "You just have to respect that."

"'Course, I do," Sam nods again. You would've never known, if not for the damn spell.

You surprise him by taking his hand. Yours is soft and warm and kind.

Always kind...

But never truly his to hold.

AN: GAH! The Angst. You could bottle it. 😩

Want to know what that conversation was like between Dean and the reader after she "found out?"

Read It Here: You and Dean talk about Sam's feelings.

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Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

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[yoonieper]

For the Birds— Part 4 | JJK

I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (feat. Yuri) 

♡ Genre: angst, smut, future fluff!

♡ Rated: R for Regret

♡ Series Warnings: Lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation!

♡ Chapter Warnings: panic attack, lots of bad self-deprecating thoughts, repressed Jungkook makes an appearance once again, masturbation (m + f), use protection (!!!), public sex, oral (m + f receiving), koo is a bj virgin, fingering, unprotected sex (be smart!)

♡ Word Count: 37.9k

♡ Summary: As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.

♡ Now Playing: Liquor by Chris Brown— see masterlist for playlist! 

♡ Betas: Thank you so much to @illyrian-book-lover and @mellowladyanchor for reading this part for me! If you’re interested in betaing a future part, dm me! If you're interested in becoming a permanent beta for this series please first click here and refer to 'details about the job' section for more details and dm for any questions you might have! Betas get early access to chapters, so if you're free to help out and can't wait for next chapter, consider joining the team!!!

♡ Author’s Note: I started this thinking it was going to be one of the shortest chapters but 😀 Hehehehehe anyway, get cozy, get some snacks, maybe something nice and warm to drink as well, and enjoy my friends!

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much : D

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It was still too early for him; the sun was barely peeking over the skyline. Businesses were just beginning to flip their signs to open, the sounds of the city were growing louder by the minute— only a soft murmur in the restful city background, and daily menus were just now beginning to be set outside for the few passersby who were walking the streets this early morning. 

It was in these initial hours on the first day of November that Min Yoongi arrived at his office. He had an iced Americano firmly grasped in his hand despite the chilly temperature outside. He always preferred the drink in its cooler state, no matter the weather, to quickly wake him up in the morning. It worked enough to get him here, but never as much as he needed it to.

He yawned as the elevator slowly rode up to the floor his office resided on. He still had a few hours before his first appointment, but Yoongi always came early to do menial tasks like office bills or general prep work for appointments. He didn’t have too much to do today, but some important documents he’d been putting off were calling his name.

His eyes lazily drifted over to Secretary Kim’s desk, as they always did, ready to say a brisk “good morning” before heading into his office until the time neared his first appointment.  

Yoongi was so out of it this morning. He and Heran were up all night with their little Bora. They both figured more of her baby teeth were coming in and that’s what’s been making their daughter so fussy these days. Heran especially had been a little worried after their third all-nighter, but Yoongi was quick to notice the little bumps in her gums upon further inspection, indicating she was likely just teething. It had been a rough few nights, last night especially, but eventually he was able to get her to fall asleep in his arms after he let his wife go back to bed.  

He languidly glanced over at Secretary Kim ready to wave, but her wide eyes quickly caught his attention as she discreetly pointed toward the waiting area. He wasn’t expecting anyone this early but lo and behold was the man he hadn’t seen in seven months.

His big, round eyes were instantly recognizable as they stared up at him when he noticed Yoongi standing there. This was certainly unexpected. He definitely didn’t have Jeon Jungkook booked today.

“Mr. Jeon! What a surprise!” Yoongi smiled as he walked over to him. 

Jungkook stood up, and Yoongi took particular interest in the way he shakily shifted his weight from one side to the other. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days and Yoongi could immediately tell something was wrong. 

“Hi— I’m sorry for barging in so suddenly like this…” Yoongi could hear the strain in his voice. 

“No issue at all, my door is always open.” He smiled but Yoongi hoped he got the point. His door was always open, no matter what the issue might be.

“I— I um… I wanted to talk to you— and… I can come back later if you’re busy, but—” Jungkook seemed fidgety and could hardly look at the doctor, the floor seeming to hold his attention more than Yoongi’s concerned gaze. 

Alarm bells were going off in his head. Normally he didn’t take walk-ins like this, but when the circumstances seemed dire, like in today's case, someone’s well-being was always more important than anything else. Something clearly wasn’t right with him, and he still had a few more hours until his first appointment anyway. No harm in this at all.

Yoongi glanced over to his secretary and they both shared the same worried expression before he guided Jungkook toward the door to his office. 

It had been seven months since he’d seen him, but Yoongi could instantly tell Jungkook seemed different. As he turned on the lights in his office that fact became more clear. Since the time that they had last seen each other, Jungkook evidently looked more tired, the dark circles around his eyes were prominent, but he did a good job of hiding it in the way his hair had grown to hang lowly over his eyes. Yoongi also thought he seemed paler, like he hadn’t seen the sun in weeks, and he could have sworn his round face had grown more gaunt as well. 

Yoongi had hoped that the couple’s absence after their last session meant that good things had come between them. Despite only having one session, he thought that maybe the glaring problems of their relationship had become apparent, and now that they were in the open, they had found themselves on a path to a happy and healthy relationship.

Yoongi wished this meeting had been a reunion of sorts, that Jungkook was coming to visit just to thank him for the session, or to simply catch up, or even just coming to ask for more advice in the long journey of building up their relationship. Any sort of sign, really, to indicate that they were working on the distressing issues in their marriage and that progress had been made in the seven months since they last saw each other.

Unfortunately, Jungkook’s appearance alone was enough to show his optimism had been in vain. And to make matters even more concerning, as soon as Yoongi shut the door behind them, he watched Jungkook haphazardly stumble over and collapse on the couch.

Yoongi hurriedly joined him by his side, his worry soaring to even greater heights seeing Jungkook desperately tangle his fingers through his hair. His grip on the strands was so firm that Yoongi feared he’d pull out the tresses threaded in his grasp. Sitting this close now, he could smell that Jungkook had been drinking, probably excessively too. It wasn’t looking good; time had not been kind to him. If anything, things seemed worse.

His soft whimpers slowly began to fill the growing silence. 

“Jungkook…?” Yoongi asked gently as he placed a hand on his back. 

“I’m s—sorry… so sorry. I should have called befo—before I came, I’m so sorry.” If it wasn’t already evident in his voice, Yoongi could see his hands in his hair were shaking.

“Like I said before, my door is always open. Did something happen?” Yoongi was trying to be calm, but the memories of their last session came flooding back in a rush and his mind raced with the possibilities of what had made him so frantic.

The question just seemed to make things worse, and like in their last session, Yoongi feared Jungkook was on the verge of another panic attack. Jungkook’s sobs became louder and his breathing grew more shallow with each breath he took.  

“Deep breaths, take your time,” Yoongi reassured, gently rubbing circles on his back. Jungkook quickly seemed to listen and tried his best to focus on the doctor’s words.

“Yuri— I—” Jungkook finally released the death grip on his hair and leaned back on the couch, letting his tears flow down his cheeks. 

“I cheated on my wife last night.” It was like he had practiced saying this with how clear it was despite the shakiness in his voice. The statement seemed to linger in the air as Yoongi processed his words. He tried not to show his immediate shock at the statement. From what he could remember from the last time he spoke with Jungkook, this was a pretty big deal, which could explain the distress. 

“I wish I was coming here to— to tell you how bad I felt about doing it, but—” Jungkook’s lip started to quiver. “I was up all night and I couldn’t stop thinking about it— I should feel bad, I want to feel bad, but…” More tears rolled down his cheeks.

“It just felt so good.” 

The confession made it all too real as he looked at the doctor. It made him feel even more like a monster.

Jungkook had spent the night trying to make himself feel bad about his time with you. He’d wandered around the apartment looking at all the pictures littered on the tables and walls of him and Yuri, hoping that would spark fond feelings of their relationship. 

If someone visiting their apartment saw the plethora of photos they have sprinkled around the place, it would seem like the couple shared many memories together. But just like their entire relationship, it was merely an illusion. 

When they first moved in Yuri had taken on the majority of the work decorating their apartment. She had an eye for interior design. Aside from modeling, she was quite passionate and knowledgeable about the subject— it’s what she originally went to school for before she was scouted and modeling became her main priority. 

The place mainly reflected her taste, but she’d ask Jungkook his opinions occasionally on some of her ideas, and he was pretty easy-going, so he just let her have her fun. He also knew how much she enjoyed it, it was one of the things he’d learned on their honeymoon when she confessed her ambition to open her own business someday. It was important to her, and it honestly warmed his heart to see how passionate she was decorating their new home together.

Right before they officially moved in, Yuri had signed them up for a bunch of photo shoots to help fill in the relatively empty picture frames around the apartment. The only memories they had were of their wedding, honeymoon, and a couple of pictures from their dates before they were engaged. Memories, yes, but certainly not enough for a couple who decided to take a leap of faith and get married so young. 

Professional photoshoots with the photographer she shot with regularly were a weekly occurrence for about a month. Jungkook had cherished this time since he was still trying to process how uncomfortable things had become after they came back from their honeymoon. That was really the only time they would speak to each other and things weren’t awkward. 

Jungkook had hoped that just being in the apartment would remind him of his marriage and ignite the shame that he had just committed a horrible sin, one that could have gotten him killed a couple of centuries ago. And yet, as Jungkook stood there trying to reminisce about all of their fond memories, he was also trying his best to ignore the way his length pleaded for you all over again.

Pathetic… more than that really.

He’d finally grabbed a beer out of the fridge at some point, hoping at the very least he could stop thinking about you and maybe try and get some sleep before he needed to go to work in the morning. The beer didn’t help, it never did. Rather it made his guilt, or his lack thereof, echo even louder. 

Jungkook had looked to Dr. Min with the hope that he would be a voice of reason, a slap to the face to make him feel the mortification he should right now. 

Jungkook stared at the doctor, just waiting for the look of disgust he was hoping for. He wanted someone to tell him how insane he sounded, how much of a terrible person he was for it. Instead, he couldn’t read the look on the doctor’s face as the words started to process in his mind. It made him that much more anxious. He wanted an immediate reaction, he wanted Dr. Min to scream at him if he had to, but instead, he just looked off in the distance as he never once stopped his gentle massage across his back.

“What makes you say that?” Dr. Min finally asked after the silence started to linger for a little too long.

“I didn’t know— know it could feel that good.” Jungkook’s body instantly reacted to the mention of last night— this morning really. It hadn’t been that long. It was all so clear and got even more so the more he tried not to think about it.

“And what makes you say that?” Dr. Min repeated with a gentle smile on his face.

Jungkook was being vague. Yoongi had a feeling this was a common occurrence, but those details truly mattered right now. 

“You don’t have to get explicit, it's just— If I’m recounting correctly, I know the last time we spoke you mentioned that you didn’t have much experience besides Yuri. What was it like then, stepping outside of your relationship?” Yoongi clarified, noticing Jungkook seemed a little confused. 

Jungkook turned away as his mind traveled back to early this morning… you, your lips, your hands, your skirt bunched around your waist. 

“She touched me.” The words just slipped out of his mouth without much thought. “No one ever did that before.” At least the way you had. As delusional as it was, for a split second he felt wanted, like someone actually craved him as badly as he did for them. It was nonsense, Jungkook just happened to be blessed that night by your unwavering kindness even to someone as pathetic as him in a moment of weakness. But still, he knew something felt different about last night.  

Yoongi hummed, remembering that the topic had come up in their session. 

“To be honest… Now that I think about it, I never really enjoyed it that much beforehand.” Jungkook stared off into the distance, coming to a revelation that he was aware of but never fully articulated until now.

“Sex?” Yoongi put it bluntly, making Jungkook’s face flush slightly.

He shyly nodded.

“I thought I did. I liked it when she just acknowledged my existence, it would make my day. I wanted anything from her really, but I think when it came to being intimate it just made me feel…” A word bounced around in his head, a sour word he knew spoke true to his feelings whenever he was with Yuri, yet it never materialized enough to explain to the doctor. After a while Jungkook just sighed and gave up, deciding to continue. “I think I just wanted her close. I wanted Yuri to want me, and I feel like that’s when I felt it the most. I craved it so much that I bet I seemed pathetic, but even then, I don’t think I really enjoyed it— not in the same way at least.” Jungkook struggled to fully articulate what he was trying to say, and just hoped Dr. Min could get the picture.

Yuri never touched him like that. She hardly touched him at all. Jungkook had always craved affection, but he’d never known how much he would truly enjoy it until now.

“I’m hopeless, aren’t I…?” This would normally have been a moment he would have tried to laugh at, but his heart hurt so much, he went back to crying. 

Why didn’t he feel guilty?

“Jungkook, look… Can I be honest with you for a second?” Yoongi eventually said. He seemed serious. 

Jungkook looked over at the doctor, ready for the slap to the face he came for. 

“I’m trying to look at this situation as objectively as I can. It’s been a while since we talked and I never really got Yuri’s side when I wanted to speak to you both one-on-one. As much as I probably shouldn’t, I think this is a situation where I need to take my therapist hat off and approach this like I’m just your friend giving you my two cents. Can I do that?” Yoongi asked before he continued. 

Jungkook steadily nodded.

Yoongi took a deep breath and one good look at Jungkook before continuing. “You don’t look good.” His words were blunt, but he had a look of genuine concern on his face. 

Jungkook’s eyes widened, not at all expecting that to be what he was going to say.

“You look like shit if I’m being honest.” Yoongi reiterated, wanting to be even more straightforward. As hurtful as it might sound, it was the truth. He didn’t even know Jungkook that well and he could clearly see the last few months had not been kind to him. It might have been different if he had no inclination as to why that might be the case, but considering what they’ve discussed so far, plus the fact that he’d briefly met his wife, he already knew a problem he could help advise on. Hopefully a bit of no-nonsense advice might set him on the right path. 

“I’ve seen all types of couples come in through those doors, and many more before I got my own office. I’ve helped couples rekindle their relationships that were in horrendous conditions.  Some were just minor issues that they needed help mediating and talking through. Others… I’ll be honest and say I’m surprised they even worked out. No relationship is perfect, but as long as there’s love, there’s hope. You and Yuri are a special case. You both never had those feelings at any point of your relationship that I could help remind you of.” 

Yoongi had spent some time after Jungkook’s last session contemplating the best advice he could give to a couple who had never properly loved each other. Helping them was basically asking them to build a relationship from scratch, a mission Jungkook seemed dead set on doing, and it might have been possible if their relationship didn’t hold such animosity. 

The way Yuri acted in the one session he met her in was honestly unacceptable. Her words were said out of spite, not out of hurt, or even in hopes of betterment— she just wanted to make it hurt as much as possible. Hostile relationships weren’t a foreign subject to him, but it was clear by Jungkook’s panic attack that what he saw probably didn’t even scratch the surface of their relationship behind closed doors.

Yoongi would help anyone who came through his doors, but when he suspected someone was causing more harm than good, and not even trying to make things work, there was little he could do. Being even more honest with himself, he didn’t want to help them. Toxic relationships aren’t good for anyone’s well-being, and it went against the very reason he became a therapist to encourage Jungkook to “stick it out” and hope things get better. 

This wasn’t even just toxic… 

Jungkook looked like he got hit by a bus, and then it backed up, ran over him again, backed up, and just kept repeating the cycle to make sure they got him. He did not look good, and although he didn’t know Jungkook all that well and there could be many things in his life that might be causing his mental break, he could never forget his face as Yuri spewed those harsh words at him.

What he did know was that she certainly wasn’t helping.

“You and Yuri… I don’t think your relationship is healthy to continue— not now at the very least. I think you need some time to regain your footing before even entertaining the idea of having healthy discussions about your relationship. I never thought I’d say this, but I think the affair could be a good thing for you in some way. Hopefully it might get you to think more about your relationship with your wife and could aid in the overall discussion on whether it should continue.” It was certainly strange hearing that out of the doctor’s mouth. Never in a million years did Jungkook expect that when he came over.

“The fact that you’re telling me you didn’t really enjoy sex in general until last night, that you only wanted it as a way to get close to Yuri… I mean, I hope you know that’s not good.” Yoongi laid it out plainly, hoping he would see the issue. 

Jungkook stared down at the ground, seemingly lost in thought. “But it’s all my fault…” 

“Jungkook—”

“It’s my fault, everything is. If I was better— fuck, and here I am cheating on her— I— I—” The tears started spilling past his eyes, and Yoongi could tell Jungkook was seconds away from a breakdown. 

His hands quickly tangled in his hair, but even with the dark locks in the way Yoongi could still see the way they shook. His breathing grew more shallow, and it was obvious he wasn’t listening to him anymore.

Yoongi quickly leaned over and wrapped an arm around him.

“Take deep breaths for me.” Yoongi softly instructed, but things got worse before they got better. 

He wasn’t entirely surprised this was happening, Jungkook seemed off since the moment he first said hello. Things had since escalated, but he feared this attack had started long before he stepped back into his office.

Jungkook seemed panicked realizing that this was happening again. He was almost hyperventilating at this point, but Yoongi was there just like the last time. Jungkook looked at him for help with tears in his eyes and Yoongi made sure he held his gaze as he started taking calm, deep breaths, hoping Jungkook would mirror him.

It was bad, really bad actually. Yoongi was starting to worry Jungkook might pass out, but eventually he was able to catch his breath enough so he could participate in the breathing exercises. 

“I’m— I’m so sorry— I’m so—so sorry!” Yoongi was shocked Jungkook was able to talk at all, but unsurprised that he was back to apologizing for something he didn’t need too. 

This, this is exactly why Yoongi truly believed their relationship was beyond saving at this point. This wasn’t just a rough patch, and even the word toxic didn’t feel like it was enough either. Abuse— emotional abuse— Jungkook was showing similar symptoms to those he’s treated who came from situations where their partner was verbally abusive, degrading them every day to the point they saw little value in themselves anymore. But this was a huge accusation, one Yoongi didn’t want to share with Jungkook just yet. He didn’t know Yuri or the situation enough to throw that term at her, but Yoongi just knew this relationship was not good for Jungkook in the slightest.

He eventually managed to calm Jungkook down enough to repeat the phrase he told him last time while he went to get him some water.

“It’s okay not to be okay.” Cleverly handpicked from the title of the popular Netflix show many of his patients were familiar with. 

Jungkook had calmed down for the most part. They both sat in silence— Jungkook’s soft whines occasionally filled the space along with the crinkling of the water bottle he held tightly in his grasp. It honestly hurt to watch him like this. It’s not like he knew the guy all that well, but Yoongi was always quick to get attached to anyone he looked after… and something about Jungkook reminded him of a stray puppy he found on the street. It was sick and injured, and Yoongi wanted nothing more than to take it home and nurse it back to health. Now, Jungkook wasn’t a stray puppy by any means, but from the meetings they shared he held the same innocence and fragility you might look at a puppy with. He was so broken, young, and had so much going for him still.

It wasn’t even Jungkook’s fault that he ended up in this situation, a crazy expectation was placed on him at a young age in a world that seemed so foreign to the doctor. Yoongi might not understand it, but he couldn’t just sit back and watch Jungkook essentially give up and spiral further and further into a hole he might not eventually be able to pull himself out of.

“You don’t have to answer this if you’re not comfortable; I’m just curious… Who was it with?” The question seemed to linger in the air for a long time. At first, Yoongi thought Jungkook just wasn’t in a talking mood anymore, or maybe he needed to clarify, but eventually he answered.

“She works at Golden Tech… we stayed late last night working on things and…” Jungkook trailed off, letting the silence speak louder than he could.

Yoongi nodded his head, getting the picture. “Was it just a spur of the moment thing or…?” he continued.

Jungkook was quiet for a little while, but eventually, he shook his head as a few tears trickled down his cheeks.

“No… yes… maybe…? I had been thinking about her for a while and… it had been so long since Yuri and I… you know…? We had a fight that morning because of it and… I don’t know, I think I had a breakdown. She was there for me and so warm and—” Jungkook had to stop himself abruptly knowing how strange that sounded. It made him think back to his time with you in his office. His face flushed at the recollection, and Yoongi smiled at him.

“It’s alright. She sounds nice if she was there for you like that. How long have you thought about this?” 

“It’s been years— probably since she started working at the company.” Jungkook felt himself getting choked up at the shame of it all. “It got worse as time went on and I saw more of her— it’s one of the reasons I booked Yuri and I for therapy back then— she was in my head too much.”  

Interesting.

“Do you have feelings for her?” Another blunt question from the doctor that Jungkook was certainly unprepared for. What he said was so off the wall that it warranted a spit-take like he was in some sitcom. He was left completely unable to process the words that spilled from Dr. Min’s mouth. The question honestly warranted an even more dramatic response. 

“W-What?!” Jungkook stared at the doctor.

“You heard me.” Yoongi was both joking and incredibly serious. Feelings would change the whole story.

“It’s not like that,” Jungkook stated confidently. “I was just desperate, and I’m very married. It was just a mistake, a fluke.” He echoed your words from last night. You were right after all.

“A fluke? But didn’t you come in here saying you couldn’t stop thinking about it?” Yoongi pointed out.

Jungkook suddenly got very quiet.

“Okay Jungkook, I’m going to need you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say— you can do that, right?” Yoongi put his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder to get him to look him in the eye. He hated eye contact, it just made him flustered, but he would do anything to ensure Jungkook was paying attention.

“In all my years as a couples therapist I never thought I’d say this, but I think taking some time apart from Yuri to go out and live your own life might be the best option to go from here. I think you’re not in the right headspace yet to have a productive conversation with her about the issues in your relationship— I think you could use some time apart to clear your head and get your thoughts in order.”

Blunt, the doctor wasn’t beating around the bush at all.

“You need to take some time for yourself and make sure you’re okay before prioritizing your relationship. You’re still so young, you got married really young— I feel like it’s hard to even have those conversations with Yuri when you might not even be sure what you want in the first place. That’s not your fault, but you deserve to take some time for yourself to figure it out.” 

Yoongi was still working on how to navigate his own marriage and he specialized in the field. Managing a relationship with the newly added challenge of parenthood was a territory he’d only covered with clients in the past, but experiencing it personally was a completely different story. Even he was still learning to deal with the big change in him and his wife’s life. He couldn’t imagine going through all the challenges of marriage when he was twenty-six, let alone twenty-two. That certainly would have spelled disaster. 

“I think these issues run deeper than what I could help you with in couples therapy, and honestly Jungkook, I recommend taking some time to evaluate if your relationship is something you want to continue. I don’t know what happens behind closed doors, so I don’t want to overstep, but I’m seeing a lot of red flags in the way Yuri treats you. No relationship should have you feeling like this, and at the very least, I think some time apart will help you get some perspective and communicate this to her.” 

Jungkook continued to stare at him with wide eyes, and Yoongi just hoped he was listening.

“Removing yourself entirely I think should be the first step— focusing on yourself, doing the things you like, and spending time with people who make you feel happy and appreciated would be good for you. It would hopefully help get you back on your feet. However, I know this situation is still complicated.” 

“You should tell Yuri what happened last night, your feelings about it, why it happened, etcetera… I know it will be hard, and I can’t tell you what her reaction to this might be, but it’s in the past now, and honesty is the least you can offer her at this point.” Despite his mixed feelings toward Yuri, he still didn’t condone cheating. He’d been on the other side of that story before, and going behind someone’s back and lying might honestly be worse than the act itself.   

“It will give her the chance to make her own decision about the future of your relationship. If she doesn’t end things right then and there and doesn’t mention it already, you should say that you need a little space. You can say this was my idea if you have to. But for your sake Jungkook, and for the sake of your relationship, I think you should take a step back so you can have the opportunity to learn and explore exactly what you want moving forward.” This seemed like the only path Jungkook could take at this point. He didn’t know how Yuri would react to this considering they never truly had a relationship, but if she still wanted to work things out, Jungkook needed some time away from her to hopefully give him a chance to be in a better mental state. Then maybe they could have a proper conversation about the future of their relationship.   

Yoongi had only turned away for a second during his closing statement, but it was enough that when he looked back, Jungkook’s eyes had fluttered closed, and he looked like he was about three seconds away from dozing off. 

“Jungkook, did you hear me?” Yoongi shook him lightly, making Jungkook jolt awake.

“Yes— sorry! Sorry, sorry— fuck, I’m so sorry!” Jungkook was apologizing once again, and Yoongi already felt bad. 

“I just, sorry— I hardly slept last night or the night before… I’m running on three hours of sleep from two days ago.” Jungkook tried to laugh it off as he rubbed his tired eyes, but having this moment of calm after everything that’s happened was enough for the need to sleep to overwhelm him. 

Yoongi softly rubbed his back again. “You know that’s not good, right?”

“I know, and I have this big meeting later— I’m doomed.” In that instant, the haziness of sleep had clouded his brain. He couldn’t think straight, and he had to present at the meeting later along with you… Jungkook didn’t notice Yoongi’s concerned gaze as he tried to wake himself up. 

“You did hear me earlier, right?” Yoongi asked again.

“I did…” He wasn’t lying. His eyes might have closed at some point, but he was taking in every word the entire time.

“What will you do next then?”

“I don’t know.” It was a lot. Too much was happening and he was too tired to really think about what he should do right now.

Yoongi nodded. “It’s a lot, I understand. I just want to make sure you’ll think about what I said.”

Jungkook looked over and Yoongi could see how quickly his eyes had grown red.  He looked like he could pass out at any moment. 

“I will.”

Yoongi watched Jungkook rub his eyes before he tried to open them up. It looked like it was taking everything in him to keep them open. “Jungkook, maybe you should take a nap before you head out again.” Yoongi suddenly said.

Jungkook blinked a couple of times before turning toward the doctor. “Huh?”

“You can sleep on the couch. I don’t have my first appointment till 12:30, so you can stay here until then.” It was a generous offer, and one he wouldn’t normally make, but he felt it was necessary given Jungkook’s condition. 

“That’s really nice of you, but I have work I need to—” 

“Mmm, you don’t think your work will be affected if you haven’t slept right in the last 48 hours?” Yoongi interrupted. 

Jungkook was about to say something, but the more he thought about it and his eyes continued to sting, the more he knew the doctor was right. Truth be told, Jungkook doesn't sleep much these days anyway. He was busy as it was, but almost any time he got in bed, his head would be swimming with so many thoughts it took forever to fall asleep. However, even then, these last two days had definitely taken a toll on him. If it was any other day, he would have insisted he needed to get back to work, but really, he just had to be there for the meeting later; any other work could be handled at a different point if need be. The doctor was right as well— how could he get anything done like this? Even walking seemed like an impossible task.

“You’d really let me stay?” Jungkook’s voice was soft, but Yoongi noticed he sounded surprised.

“Of course. Rest up.” Yoongi gave him a slight smile before standing up. “I’ll just be over at my desk doing a little work. I won’t be loud.” 

Jungkook stared up at Dr. Min with tears in his eyes. He could hardly believe anyone was being this nice to him, let alone after he admitted to cheating on his wife. The doctor didn’t notice, or if he did, he didn’t say anything as he moved over to his desk.

Jungkook quickly whipped out his phone, and after a bit of scrolling, found the person he needed to call. All it took was a few rings for him to answer.

“Hyung…” Jungkook was groggy and hoarse from all the crying. Just the thought of sleep alone was enough to wear him down even more.

“Jungkook? Where are you?” Jimin’s concerned voice was heard on the other end.

“Doesn’t matter— just… I wanted to tell you to let everyone know who might be looking for me, that I’m going to be a little late today.” 

“Late? What about the meeting later?” Jimin exclaimed, a little baffled. Of all the days to be late…

“I’ll be there. If Y/n asks—” There it was, the person he tried not to think about at all.

Jimin noticed the pause. “Jungkook?”

“Uh, if Y/n asks where I am, tell her I’ll be there an hour beforehand so we can do our final preparations.” Seeing you again… he was really not looking forward to seeing you again.

“Jungkook…”

He rubbed his sleepy eyes, but nothing he did made them any easier to keep open. “Yes?”

“What’s going on? Why are you going to be late?” Jimin was concerned. Despite the awkwardness that had settled between the pair, Jimin never once stopped worrying about him.

“I just— I didn’t get much sleep last night.” It wasn’t a lie necessarily, but he definitely wasn’t going to tell him the whole truth. He couldn’t tell Jimin just how awful he had become.

There was silence over the line for a little while. Maybe Jimin was expecting Jungkook to continue and elaborate further, but then realized that was all the information he was going to get out of him.

“I see… sleep well then, and try to get here as soon as you can. Things have been pretty hectic today.” Jimin pointed out.

Jungkook lazily chuckled. “They’re hectic everyday these days.” Q4s were always so busy.

Jimin laughed as well. “Alright, see you later then.”

“Bye, hyung.” And with that, Jungkook clicked off the call. 

He didn’t notice, but a warm smile had settled on Yoongi’s face. He didn’t have to know who he called, he could tell they were close.

“You seriously don’t mind me staying here? I’ve been told I snore…” Jungkook’s face flushed at the mention of it. Yuri would sometimes kick him awake if he got too loud.

“Sleep!” Yoongi called out as he started looking through his computer. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jungkook sheepishly take off his shoes before grabbing the blanket draped over the couch. He laid down, and it probably wasn’t even two minutes later that Yoongi knew he’d actually fallen asleep. He lightly chuckled to himself before getting started on the work he set out to do. It wasn’t much, but he did come early just to make sure he got it done so he wouldn’t get home too late.

To be honest, Yoongi hardly noticed Jungkook was even there at all. It just felt like the times he’d be working at home and Heran would be passed out on the couch with their daughter sleeping in her arms. But Jungkook wasn’t lying earlier; he did snore. It wasn’t anything too obnoxious, but occasionally Yoongi was reminded someone was in fact in the room with him. Even then, he hardly noticed— again, it was just like home.

Cute. 

Jungkook was truly out cold. Last night was overwhelming. First, the whole situation with you sent him spiraling, and then his quest to make himself feel bad about it proved to be a harder task than it should have been. 

No matter what good memory he recounted of him and Yuri last night, the thought of you on his desk was like a massive tidal wave that washed any attempts he made to remember his wife back to sea. In truth, he spent more of the night trying not to give into temptation than the thought of any guilt about his actions. He'd already betrayed Yuri enough; relieving the ache for some reason that was a line he couldn’t cross. 

These thoughts created a horrible cycle in his mind of “you just cheated on your wife” to then “but it just felt so good” to “but you know how disappointed Yuri would be if you do that” to “but it felt so fucking good” to “you’re an actual piece of shit, you deserve feeling like this.” It had his head spinning. 

He was tired and tried downing a beer so he could quickly pass out and he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. But then Yuri came home— 5:35am on the dot. 

She looked good, so good, even with most of the lights off. Yuri had changed from her off-the-shoulder, black, sweater dress into something more relaxing— a cozy black hoodie and gray sweatpants. Yuri was also carrying the tote she used for short excursions that weren’t overnight, but far enough to come back at a time like this— she had to go to and from Busan today. She must have been so tired, and he’d spent the night cheating on her.

Jungkook had been so out of it. He was drunk, very drunk, and he was so tired, but he just couldn’t fall asleep. Maybe he would have reacted better seeing her, but his whole body felt numb when she noticed he was sitting at the dining table. 

This would have been the time for him to get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness, but instead he just continued to sit there.

Yuri hurriedly walked over and despite how much the room was spinning, he could tell by her footsteps she was mad.

“Jungkook, are you drunk?!” She exclaimed, but the words were hazy in his mind. The question was redundant, all the empty beer bottles on the table would have given her the answer. 

“Yuri… I’msorry.” His words slurred. He bet he looked pathetic. He hasn’t gotten drunk in front of her that often. He never wanted her to see that side of him, or rather, how that other side might act if she did.

The silence lingered in the apartment for a little and maybe if the lights were on, she would have seen his lip quivering before she heard his sobs.

“I’m sorry.” His sad attempt at an apology rang in the air. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, sorry. I’m—”

“What is wrong with you?” She honestly sounded baffled. Through the haziness of it all, he recognized that she likely had no idea what he was talking about.

There were so many things he could be apologizing for, yesterday morning was a great example. Maybe that’s what she thought he was talking about. Or maybe it was the fact that he was drunk. There were just so many things, but cheating on her probably wasn’t where her immediate train of thought went.

“I’m sorry!” He just sobbed out, an apology not for cheating on her necessarily, but because he couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad about it.

Yuri had no idea what was going on, and it was so late. “Get yourself together, please. It’s too late for this and I’m too tired to try and understand you. I’m going to bed and you better figure this out before joining me.” Yuri just sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder once again before walking off toward their bedroom. The fact she even offered to share the bed was astonishing. He deserved less than the couch at this point.

With Yuri here, it made it all too real how badly he had betrayed her. They were meant to be playing the part of a happily married couple, they were meant to be a happily married couple, but he let his own selfish desires get in the way and now that dream was shattered. Why couldn’t he have just waited? All he ever wanted was to be a good husband to her and yet he couldn’t even bring himself to feel bad about the night he shared with you. He’d cheated and still couldn’t stop thinking with his dick for more than two seconds, instead overwhelmed by the way his whole body hadn’t stopped tingling since he helped you off his desk. He never deserved forgiveness. Horrible. He couldn’t go any lower than this. 

He was too drunk to remember when the shaking began, or when it got hard to breathe, but he knew he had to listen to your advice. He needed to talk to someone, now.

Jungkook had looked up when Dr. Min’s office opened, and he was at the door shortly after the secretary got there. She had given him those same sad eyes she did before he left the last time when she saw him stumble into the office.

“Dr. Min will be here shortly…” she had assured him. She could probably see how on edge he was.

To be honest, the whole night was a blur at this point. One minute he was at the dining table, the next he was calling Dae-Jung (who was kind enough to pick him up, despite the early hour and how his words slurred together on the phone), then he was in Dr. Min’s office. It felt like time was passing by without him. 

Jungkook never checked the time to know when he fell asleep, but when he felt the gentle touch of Dr. Min letting him know it was time to get up, he knew he hadn’t slept long enough. Just opening his eyes was a task that seemed too much to overcome. He needed eight hours, probably more at this point. He honestly felt worse after waking up than he did before he fell asleep. He hoped it was just the grogginess needing to wear off, but the sounds of amusement from the doctor he eventually realized was sitting on the table right in front of him, were not the best received.

“You might want to fix your hair.” Yoongi chuckled lightly, seeing the long strands sticking up in different directions.

Cute.

His head hurt, his eyes hurt, and he wanted to go back to sleep so badly. 

It certainly looked that way from Yoongi’s perspective as well. Jungkook had this grumpy look on his face as he steadily tried to sit up, and his eyes just barely fluttered open so he could see they were slightly red.

“Do you feel better?” Yoongi asked, and Jungkook quickly shook his head.

“I’m not surprised. You really need to get more sleep… If you can, you should take the rest of the day off after your meeting. Give yourself the day to try and get yourself back together.” He suggested. “Doctor’s orders.”

The thought was tempting. The main task he had to complete today was the meeting. Everything else, as far as he knew, could be handled later. But he already hadn’t shown up to work this morning, what would everyone think? What might they be saying right now? Just the thought of anyone thinking he was slacking off made the idea seem selfish. 

Jungkook didn’t say anything though, as he tried to muster up any energy he had regained to get up from the couch.

“Oh, and before I forget—” Suddenly Jungkook felt a small piece of paper in his hand. It took a minute for him to realize what it was, but it was similar to the one Yoongi gave him after his last session. 

“Please make sure to visit him this time. I may be a therapist as well, but I think he’d be much better to talk to about your individual needs.” Yoongi was almost pleading. 

Kim Namjoon. Right, he forgot to do that last time. 

“Talk to him please, but if you ever need someone else to just chat with unofficially, you can stop by the office at any time or call me if you need to. You have my work phone, but at the bottom of the note I wrote my personal number.” If Jungkook was a patient, this probably would have been crossing a line, but he hasn’t been an official client since his last session back in April.

This was all unofficial, and it would continue to stay that way until things improved enough that alarm bells wouldn’t go off anytime he saw Jungkook. For some reason, he doubted that would happen anytime soon, at least as long as he was with Yuri. 

Yoongi made Jungkook agree to book an appointment soon, and said he’d check up with Namjoon to make sure he fulfilled his promise. They also promised to talk again soon as Jungkook started fixing himself up before heading out.

He was still slightly hungover, but the water he drank earlier helped ease things a little, so the headache wasn’t as bad as what it could be considering how much he imbibed last night.

It wasn’t long before Jungkook was getting a text from his driver that he was outside. 11:43am— an hour and twenty until the meeting and less than twenty minutes till he promised to meet you. He had to hurry and pray the traffic wasn’t bad, he still had to head home to shower and change….

With a swift goodbye, Jungkook was slinging his suit jacket and coat on before heading downstairs.

•────•──────────•────•

The meeting went okay. It was mainly thanks to you though. You were a great presenter, and things all went relatively how you both had planned. But Jungkook could have done better— he hadn’t even needed to talk much, but maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the hangover, or the massive wall of anxiety he practically slammed into that made things so difficult.

Jungkook had given presentations before, many times actually, and while he was always a little nervous, most of it would go away the minute he got up there and he was able to say what he needed to say to get his point across. For some reason, his anxiety was almost crippling this time. 

Jungkook had hardly thought about the presentation. So much shit had been happening it had almost been an afterthought. But while he was practicing with you, he was not prepared for the jitters he got as time drew nearer for the executives to come in.

It was even worse when it was actually time. He stood up there with you and he couldn’t stop shaking. The eyes of the executives were too much. It felt like that nightmare all over again. It was like they knew what he did, how terrible and incapable he was, and how he deserved how shitty his life had turned out.

Somehow he was able to cover all the points he needed to, but the shakiness in his voice was embarrassing, and he nearly had a breakdown when he saw their confused expressions staring back at him. He felt bad, so bad actually, because he was ruining this for you.

And you… Jungkook didn’t know what to do seeing you again. As soon as he walked into the meeting room, he was filled with disgust, but also wanted nothing more than to pull you close once more. It was horrible. 

You looked so good too, you always did. Your light blue turtleneck was neatly tucked into your white skirt, your signature lipstick was back on display, and your hair was styled nicely as it always was. You were so polished, a completely different look to how he dropped you off last night. And you looked amazing either way in his opinion.

But things were awkward, very awkward as you started your preparations. And to make matters worse, you were mad at him, or at the very least it was obvious you didn’t want to be around him when he finally made it to the meeting room. He saw it for a split second after he walked through the door and you made eye contact. It was a silent moment when you both acknowledged the night before, a moment you both realized that last night had in fact happened— but you were far quicker to move on from it, choosing to stick to the promise made to put the whole thing behind you.

Last night was a mistake, a fluke. It shouldn’t have happened.

The doctor was right that things would be different if feelings were involved, but last night was nothing more than sex. He was horny, sad, and you just happened to be there…. If you both acknowledged it then it would become something, something more than it needed to be. He was married, you were his coworker, and that’s how it needed to stay. 

But still, for a moment he wanted to say something. He wanted it to be something, because as much as he knew he needed to try and push past this, last night was still on his mind. Dr. Min didn’t help either. He thought he would give him the slap in the face he needed, but his words stuck to him.

What he wanted? Why did it matter what he wanted? He was the one who needed to fix this, he was the one who messed up. But for some reason anytime he thought about it you would pop into his head. You had been just a taste of the things he hadn’t discovered, and like a veil finally being lifted from his eyes, he could finally see how immense the world he lived in was. But you were forbidden, a fruit he couldn’t have, one he shouldn’t want. All he had was a taste and he wanted more. He wanted you in all the ways possible and to explore a side of himself he didn’t know existed until he was with you that night. The only experience he had was with Yuri, and he barely explored his sexuality outside of his relationship— Yuri making up 95% of his sexual experience and 100% of his relationship experience. He knew he was an amateur going into his marriage, but he never knew sex could feel that good.

He wanted Yuri, he wanted his wife, he wanted to be her husband, but as much as he kept telling himself that, the doctor’s words were back in his head once again and that side he was ashamed of would come out. He wanted you, and it was worse this time— instead of his imagination fueling his fantasy, he had an actual memory to look back on. The more he thought about it, the more the doctor’s words rang in his head. 

Would the best thing for his and Yuri’s relationship really be a break from each other? How did that make sense at all? How would he ever fix the mess he made if he wasn’t with her? And then to tell her about the affair? That was just a straight ticket to divorce and failure. The amount of people that would be let down if they knew what he did… it just didn’t make sense.

He had to fix this. He had to fix this. Failure wasn’t an option. 

•────•──────────•────•

The next few days weren’t any better. Somehow, it got worse.

He thought things would be awkward for a little while, but eventually you both would fall back into your routine. He thought the memory of that night would fade, and you would just become his coworker again. That mistake, that fluke, it would be like it never happened. 

But it did, and he couldn’t forget it. It seemed to be the only thing he could think about these days: your lips, your hands, your body, how it felt to have you right there on his desk. 

It should have been a mistake, it should have been a fluke, Jungkook should have been trying his very hardest to push that night out of his mind, to pretend that it didn’t happen, but… 

Sometimes he’d think about it too much. His mind betrayed him first and then his body would follow soon after. It seemed to happen every time he was alone. In the shower, in his office, in the gym, there was even this one time you assisted some of the managers with a presentation and he nearly lost his mind trying to keep it together. He completely forgot how to act like a normal person around you. Anytime you were in the same vicinity, the awkward conversations you used to share had downgraded to just standing there and staring at you like an idiot. He didn’t know what to say around you, how to make things go back to the small, awkward, yet friendly conversations you both would share whenever you saw each other in these last few weeks since you’d been promoted.  

He was a mess, and his mind and thoughts were muddled by a growing need that just got worse as the days passed. Each time he’d plead for his body to listen to him, to forget about that night so he could focus on Yuri again. There were too many times he had to fight every force of nature to stop himself from giving in. Tears would stream down his face as he thought about you, Yuri, and tried his best not to reach down his pants and fix it. 

He never thought it could get any worse than what he went through during those ten months of torture, but in just a matter of days you had him more needy than he knew what to do with.

Yesterday, two days after he had you on his desk, he tried to get Yuri to help him, but he should have known better. Jungkook had been in the shower with tears in his eyes as he looked down and saw what thinking about you did to him. He was trying so hard to be good for Yuri. He’d already betrayed her once, and he didn’t want to do it again, but it hurt so much.

In desperation, he quickly got out of the shower and went to Yuri who was lying peacefully on their bed, scrolling through her phone. Jungkook had tried to be subtle as he got in beside her, his hair was still damp and all. He scooted close and wrapped his arms around her waist. As soon as he was close enough she could feel it, he knew she could. Tears immediately welled up in his eyes all over again when he noticed her confusion before her realization of what was happening. This wasn’t as innocent as pulling her close because he wanted to cuddle, no, his perverse intentions couldn’t have been more clear.

He felt like a monster.

“Jungk—”

“Help— help me— please…” He quietly sobbed into her shoulder. His hips felt like they had a mind of their own, and he started grinding into the flimsy fabric of her shorts.

It was a desperate plea so he could forget about you and finally move on. He wanted Yuri to make him remember that she was his wife, he was her husband, and you were nothing more than his coworker. He would have taken anything, really. He would have done anything to make him forget.

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, she let him have his fun. He was such a mess— his hand slowly ran under her tank top feeling her warm skin while he practically fucked her with their clothes still on. As more time passed, the more he lost himself in the pleasure. He didn’t need long at all; he just wanted it to stop hurting… anything to stop hurting.

His breathy sighs of pleasure filled the room in between the sound of the sheets shifting underneath him. There was a moment he thought Yuri would let him have this, after all, she still thought that it’d been ten months since he’d had the sweet bliss of release. But of course, he was too greedy.

“Yuri…” He sighed in hopes that would be enough to engage her, because even now he was picturing you on his desk. His hand came up to tug lightly on the waistband of her shorts. Two minutes tops and he could forget it all, get his priorities straight, and you were nothing to him again.

“Jungkook, stop! What the fuck are you doing?!” Yuri finally snapped as she turned around to face him. But even then, he still didn’t stop entirely. It was just enough to get him to slow down.

“Please— please— Yuri!” He cried because it hurt so much, and you just wouldn’t leave him alone.

Yuri was quick at gaining the upper hand, and she was on top of him just like that day. She had his hands pinned down and was sitting right where he needed her. 

“What is going on with you these days?!” She was disappointed, and he was too. She was right; what had gotten into him? Jungkook just sobbed because it still hurt.

“Help…” He begged like it meant anything. Maybe if he had told her right then and there about the affair she would have assisted. Maybe, or maybe not, but maybe that was what it would take for him to focus on her again. But just like the day this whole mess started, she seemed completely uninterested in helping him. 

“No.” She didn’t beat around the bush whatsoever, and maybe on a different occasion, he would have appreciated the honesty instead of leading him on to the point he was a whimpering mess underneath her. It just hurt too much.

Jungkook slightly shifted his hips— it was just enough to elicit a breathy moan from his lips and for the shame he felt all over to wash away in a second.

Yuri looked down at him questionably, he normally wasn’t like this at all.

“If you won’t help, then can I at least— can I fix this myself?” Jungkook looked up at her with pleading eyes. 

“Wha—”

“You’re probably tired. You’ve been really busy these days, and I’m sorry I bothered you, but—” Tears slipped down his cheeks as he subtly tried grinding into her a little harder. “I can’t wait. It hurts so much, Yuri— please can I fix this myself…” Jungkook never thought he’d reach this type of low.

First the affair, and now he was begging just because he couldn’t keep himself together long enough to wait until she needed him too. He couldn’t even imagine the disappointment she must be experiencing. Her eyes said as much before she even spoke.

“You can’t keep it together?” Her tone was low, and though Jungkook could sense she was mad, to his messed-up brain it was just more fuel to the fire of desire that was raging out of control at this point. It was hot.

He hurriedly shook his head.

“I feel like I might lose it just from you sitting on my lap.” He cried, tears streaming down his face because that wasn’t an exaggeration at all. He felt so bad. Why was he so pathetic? But at the same time, why couldn’t she see his desperation? He just wanted the chance to be with his wife, the person he should be with instead of his coworker in the middle of the night, at his job, right on the desk he worked on. 

Suddenly, Yuri chuckled as she looked down at him. She leaned down so her lips hovered over his cheek. He wished she didn’t have his hands pinned down so he could have tried to push her to meet his lips, but she kept moving up so her mouth was right by his ear.

This angle… Jungkook wished she was wearing one of those tank tops today. The view would have been amazing.

“You really can’t keep it together, huh?” Yuri said again, right into his ear, and he very well could have lost it right then and there. 

“No…” He sobbed.

Yuri pulled back slightly so she could look him in the eye. 

“I don’t know what’s going on with you Jungkook, or whatever has gotten into that thick skull of yours, but I’m going to need whatever it is out immediately. You operate on my time, you wait until I’m ready. The fact that you can’t do that is just pathetic. I don’t care if it’s been months, I don’t understand how you think begging will do anything— a good fucking husband would know how to wait.” Every syllable was filled with the disappointment and malice he knew he deserved.

His heart wrenched at every word.

“I just— I just didn’t want to make a mistake— I’m sorry.” Jungkook was bawling at this point, his voice shaking uncontrollably. His face was probably red and soaking wet from how much he was crying. But he was lying right through his teeth. He’d already made a mistake, a horrible, terrible one. She had every right to never forgive him if she ever found out. It had only been a few days since he had you on his desk, and even after he had gone to such lengths to quell the ache of the last ten months, in just two days, he was in an even worse state than before. 

“A mistake?” She laughed.

“You’re the mistake— agreeing to get married to you was the mistake. I don’t ask much from you, yet you just keep disappointing me. I don’t even know why I still try to do this.” Her grip on his wrists had tightened so much it was starting to hurt. With the look in her eyes, Jungkook felt numb at this point. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn’t speak. Even if he could utter an apology, it would never be enough for the pain he’s caused her. Every word was true. Yuri was always right.

“But nevertheless, here I am. I don’t want to fight with you today Jungkook. All I ask is that you’ll wait, and until then…” Yuri’s hand let go of his wrist and started tracing from his jaw, down to his neck, over the expanse of his sweater, and eventually settled on the waistband of his shorts. She roughly pulled it before letting go, the pain of the elastic slapping back to his burning skin made an uncontrollable moan leave his lips before he could stop it. His head was spinning, he couldn’t keep up with what was happening anymore, and it was almost overwhelming.

“Stay away from me.” Her voice had grown soft, sultry almost, as she stared at him.

Jungkook felt almost crazed as the tears kept spilling from his eyes, her words loudly echoing through his head, but he was still hard, and he didn’t know what hurt more at this point. He was shaking and had the intense urge to run away and hide from the world, but he wanted nothing more than for Yuri to touch him more. It was selfish and disgusting, he just couldn’t get any worse.

With a hand now free, Jungkook suddenly found the strength to change the position. But before he realized what he was doing, Yuri was underneath him.

“Don’t do that, please.” Jungkook sighed, the position making his body instantly react, but his heart hurt too much to even attempt anything again. “I’ll leave you alone, I just want to make you happy— I’ll do anything, I hope you know that, but just… don’t make this hard for me, please.” Jungkook begged through his teary gaze. 

“I’m sorry I want you all the time, but when you touch me like that… I’m weak, you said it yourself.” He tried to laugh through the pain, but he was starting to feel shaky again.

“I just want to be a good husband, but I’m bad at this, so… just…” He was starting to get so choked up that it was hard to speak. “Just… just… just…” Jungkook buried himself in her neck so she wouldn’t have to see how pathetic he was right now. 

In the moment he missed you and how you comforted him that night; your hands across his back, your gentle touches that made him feel warm all over. He didn’t deserve it— not then, not now… but he still missed it.

“Go easy on me, please.” He couldn’t believe he had the audacity to say this like they haven’t been married for nearly four years. He’d run out of chances at this point. He should know by now what she likes and doesn’t. Even though they hadn’t spent that much time together, Jungkook knew before he walked out of the bathroom that she wouldn’t like this, that she'd get upset, yet he still tried anyway, hoping she might put him out of his misery.

There was no hope for him at this point. How Yuri hadn’t given up on him entirely was astounding.

“Jungkook, get off of me and stop fucking crying, that shit gets annoying after the billionth time.” Yuri groaned, already feeling her neck starting to get soaked. 

He really missed you— even though he didn’t deserve it, but you made him feel so good. He wished he was back to that Tuesday, the day he cried in your arms and took you right there on his desk. He missed you so much.

Jungkook quickly got off of Yuri and the bed entirely. He hastily started making his way to the bathroom once again.

“You better stop that before you—” He didn’t slam the door in her face, but Jungkook was in too much of a rush to let her finish. 

With the outside world finally shut out, Jungkook turned on the light, and from where he was standing at the door, he could see himself in the mirror. He was a mess, he looked like shit. His face was red and puffy, his face stained with tears that just kept falling from his eyes, and because he wasn’t wearing any underwear, the prominent outline of the very reason he got himself into this situation was embarrassingly obvious.

Jungkook hated what he saw, so he quickly turned the lights back off. In the darkness, all he could picture was you once again. That night, your soft warmth, your sympathetic gaze. Why did you look at him like that? Why didn’t you see what Yuri did? But he didn’t want to think about that right now, how much his heart ached, or how his mind cried out to the void to end the pain because he was just making his wife miserable. No. Instead, the memory of you on his desk was too vivid. He could practically still feel you wrapped around him, your hands on his skin, your lips on his lips, he couldn’t forget it.  He didn’t want to.

Tears spilled from his eyes faster than his hand found its way into his shorts. He hesitated for only a second. Yuri was right outside, and this was so wrong. He’d just disappoint her even more than he already has. As shameful as it was, that hesitation only lasted for a second before he hurriedly had his fingers wrapped around his length as he steadily started pumping his needy cock. 

“I’m— so sorry!” Jungkook cried out as quietly as he could. Just one big disappointment. But you, your lips, your hands— fuck, your hands. Your fingers through his hair, your nails down his back, your hand around his cock. It never felt like that before. Jungkook didn’t know it could feel like that—  sex never felt like that. Not with his first, not with Yuri, but you… you… why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?

Jungkook hurriedly brought his hand over his mouth, the memories of when he used to do this returning all too quickly. He’d always wished Yuri would touch him, but that was selfish. The fact that she was even spending time with him should be enough. Yet you had touched him, and he didn’t even have to ask? You were strange, but as selfish as it might sound, he liked it.

Jungkook let himself slide down the door, the pleasure his hand was bringing made his knees weak. As much as he wanted to deny it, he wanted you again. He wished you were here right now to help ease the ache in both places. Would you, considering everything that had happened?

Jungkook hurriedly tried to shake those thoughts out of his head. No, you were back on his desk in his office. You noticed he was upset and came over to comfort him and make him feel better in any way you could. Your lips were on his, he was kissing you again and—

Fuck.

Jungkook briskly let go to quickly spit in his hand before hastily going back to fisting his length. Faster, he needed to make himself cum as fast as possible. The shakes were getting worse. He felt horrible, a failure, a disappointment, every flick just made him feel so fucking disgusted in himself, but it hurt too much to stop.

You on his desk, how it felt to have your hand wrapped around him, how it felt to be inside you—

There it is.

Jungkook let his mind reminisce in as much detail as he could remember. How it felt to finally be inside you, the sounds you made, how wet, tight, and warm you were— so fucking good. He wanted you again so badly, it should be criminal. He was married and he already messed up once, yet he couldn’t stop thinking about it— you on the desk, your fucking sweet pussy wrapped around his aching length. 

Close, he was getting close.

Jungkook brought his other hand up to tightly hold it against his mouth once more. His moans were getting too loud and he feared Yuri would hear. He tried to speed it up even more. All he needed was a little longer. 

You, your hands, your lips, your warmth, your bunched-up skirt, your thigh-highs, your panties, your red lipstick smearing across his face. Oh. So close. 

And then, at last, the feeling deep down inside growing and growing until he finally spilled inside of you—

…

…

…

Wait… what?

Jungkook’s eyes suddenly shot open, the haunting darkness of the bathroom now an unwelcoming sight. An immediate, deep, visceral sense of panic and dread sunk in as he racked his brain in hopes he was overreacting or misremembering. 

Jungkook had tried to push the memories of that night as far away as possible over the last few days, but now that he was thinking about it properly…

That day… you both hadn’t used protection.

It’s not like he walked around with condoms, he had no need, but…

Suddenly the ache that seemed deafening became just a muffled, dull, fuzzy noise in the background as this realization dawned on him. 

How? How did he not realize you hadn’t used protection? No matter how needy he was with Yuri, he was always so careful in the rare times they went all the way. How did he fucking forget?!

Jungkook suddenly had the urge to run into a wall and hoped he would never wake up again. This entire week had already turned out to be one horrible nightmare. But as if his life wasn’t shitty enough before, suddenly it took a whole new turn. 

The shaking came back and was worse than ever. He was at a point where he was sure he would scream his lungs out, but Yuri would hate the noise. Jungkook felt dazed, the realization was the quickest way to kill the mood, and the fastest he’d ever lost a boner. 

After a while, he somehow found the strength to stand up again and open the door to the bedroom. Yuri had turned off the lights here too. The only light coming in was from the few that were turned on in the hallway and Yuri’s phone playing some type of video. It also didn’t take long for him to see that she had fallen asleep.

For a split second, he was sad she wasn’t awake. He needed someone to talk to, even if that involved telling her about the affair. He felt like he was seconds away from losing his mind. He probably already had at this point. How could he fucking forget protection?!

Despite his shakiness, Jungkook went over to Yuri’s side— the right if you were facing the bed— and walked over to turn off her phone.

She had a makeup ASMR video playing. Those always helped her sleep and she said she could learn a few things from them while she was awake. As gently as he could, he also took out her headphones and set them on the nightstand. His hands had been shaking so badly that he could hardly pause the video for her.

But as Jungkook made his way to his side— the left— the weight of his actions became even more unbearable.

Jungkook lifted the covers and got in bed, laying face down on the pillow. The fabric was soaked by his tears in a matter of seconds. 

How could things just keep getting worse?

•────•──────────•────•

You knew it would be awkward when you came into work. It was inevitable, considering what things were like the last time you saw each other. However, for your sake and Jungkook’s, you tried your best to ignore what had transpired and move on with your life, but that was easier said than done. 

The minute Jungkook dropped you off and you made it back up to your apartment, you were stuck in place as soon as you closed the door behind you. Time felt like it stood still and nothing around you moved, like space itself had stopped in order to greet you with an agonizing silence. It was to taunt you and let the thoughts of what you had just done fester, quickly gnawing away at your sense of self and your very being, leaving you to question the type of person you thought you were for your entire life. You couldn’t move, trying to process everything that happened. This couldn’t be real, right? 

This was Jeon Jungkook we’re talking about— the Jeon Jungkook who was the son of the CEO at the company you work at.

You pinched your arm so many times you were sure it was going to bruise in your attempt to wake yourself up. You were probably still fast asleep in your cozy bed, stuck in a dream that just wouldn’t end. Your sexual frustration had somehow managed to manifest into you dreaming about your late night meet-up with your boss ending with you sleeping together. All would be fine in the morning except for the fact you’d have to look him in the eye, knowing what your brain had conjured up the night before. It was embarrassing, but that honestly made more sense than everything being real and this night actually happening. 

You were sure you’d wake up at any moment, but your arm started to hurt, and you knew standing here probably wouldn’t do anything. You finally found the strength to move from the entryway and head to your room to start getting ready for bed. You showered, then laid down staring at your ceiling, just waiting for your eyes to shoot open and you’d see it was Tuesday, October 31st, all over again. 

Nothing… nothing happened. 

While the seconds ticked away, your hope was drowned out as you let your mind reminisce about what had happened earlier. The minute you opened the door, you could just see it on his face. He had looked so sad, a pain behind his eyes that made any sense of composure you maintained in front of him come crumbling down. You felt like you had to fix it. Your heart had nearly pounded out of your chest when you got close, holding your coats and his scarf. You didn’t know what you were thinking, pulling him close the way you did, but then his hands were on your waist, and— You flipped over, feeling your face grow warm. 

But that didn’t help whatsoever, because it was like a floodgate had opened, and now you remembered how his lips felt against yours, his hurried hands across your burning skin, and most of all, how his… You spent nearly the entire night tossing and turning, bouncing back and forth between your guilt and shame for somehow getting yourself involved in this situation, to Jungkook and his stupid…

There was a scary part of you that was selfish, one that wished you had invited him upstairs. It had been so long since you’d been in the arms of another human being, that you forgot how much better the experience was. You’d never had sex like that before— it was desperate and emotional in a way you still couldn’t comprehend. The way Jungkook had held onto you, with tears streaming down his face, kept you close. You felt it in the way he kissed you, pleaded for you, the way he touched you. The way he touched you… it had been so long. 

Your tossing and turning had stopped at some point, your fight trying to get Jeon Jungkook out of your head had been lost, hard. The ache between your legs returned before you even realized, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop imagining the way his body felt against yours, his fingers inside you, or the slick glides of his cock through your wetness. 

It was just Jeon Jungkook no matter how hard you tried to close your eyes. You were too tired to fight against your hand traveling down into your shorts, and you nearly cried feeling how wet you were. It was a low moment, the entire night had been a low moment for you, but you let the thoughts fully consume you as your fingers glided between your soaked folds and settled on your clit, rubbing needy circles over the bud that was still a little sensitive from earlier. It was a horrible realization, but that just made your deluded self even more hot. It had been real.

You pictured him, you pictured the night you shared, you pictured the nights you didn’t share where he was just existing in your vicinity. You had no idea this part of you existed, the one where you thought Jeon Jungkook was so hot he could get you this riled up. You had known he was attractive, you had eyes, but the emotions had never let you see him like… that. The soft candle glow that had painted him so prettily, the way his sparkling eyes would look at you, how much you enjoyed the way he looked at you.

“Jungkook…” You whined with seemingly no shame. It was embarrassing, but you had never finished so fast with just your fingers. For a split second, as the bliss washed over you, you found yourself wishing he was here and questioning why of all people he had to be married. But as the high washed over you, all that was left in its wake was the starkness of shame. The guilt you felt as you tried bringing yourself back to earth. You had slept and now masturbated to a married man… Jungkook had a wife, and he was your boss. You thought you were better than this. 

Your eyes had filled with tears, and you spent the rest of the night crying your eyes out because what was wrong with you? You might have just ruined a family— your boss’s family, and who knows what might happen to you career-wise if someone were to find out.

You didn’t really sleep that night; you highly doubted you even got an hour before your alarm went off, and you had to get ready. That day was awful. As you expected yesterday, both Solmi and Taehyung didn’t come into work, probably too drunk from their night of fun to realize their alarms even went off. There was some part of you that was glad they weren’t here. You had been debating all night if you should tell your close friends about your night, but their absence was enough to remind you of your words to Jungkook last night.

It was a mistake, a fluke, it shouldn’t have happened, and you wouldn’t tell another soul so you both could easily pretend like nothing occurred that night. And seeing Jeon Jungkook again… 

Jimin had told you that Jungkook was going to be coming in late, and you couldn’t help the terror that spread throughout your body picturing why that might be. Your mind had drifted to the image of him on his knees begging his wife for a second chance, or maybe she’d kicked him out of the house, or maybe she was going to come after you for ruining their marriage. It felt like every scenario had run through your head by the time you had made it to the meeting room, waiting on him. 

You weren’t prepared at all when you glanced up from your computer at the sound of the door opening, for you to see him again. Your eyes met from across the room, and there was a second, a painful second where your minuscule amount of hope last night had just been a horny delusion that you could simply chastise your brain for making up later, died faster than you would have wanted. You could see it in the way his brows furrowed at you as soon as he met your eyes, that you knew last night had happened. 

He looked really good too… He was in a navy suit, missing a tie, instead a few buttons were undone, and his long hair messily fell around his face in a way that made him look ethereal. He looked like he had run his hands through it one too many times, yet somehow it just made him seem even more perfect. You swore you heard the pearly gates calling your name, the church bells sing, and… You wanted to scream. What were you thinking?! Immediately you decided to just try your best to ignore it, pushing him away was your only option in hoping things went back to normal— they needed to go back to normal. He had a wife, you had your career, you had to pretend it never happened. 

That’s how it needed to be after all. That day was a mistake; it shouldn’t have happened. The more you pretended it was that way, the easier it would be to move past this, the more you could forget, and the quicker things would go back to normal. But deep down, when you were alone, or you’d see him again— doing that was much harder than it needed to be. 

That night would come back to you in a flash. You’d wonder if he was doing okay, was he thinking about the night like you were, or were you just another girl he added to his roster of infidelity? You highly doubted it, just seeing the state he was in you didn’t think this was a normal occurrence, but who knows. There was some part of you that wanted to ask, however you had to keep your distance— at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. You knew it was a little rude to almost flat-out ignore him like that, but addressing it would create an even bigger issue. So mean, rude, standoffish Y/n it was then. 

You could still feel his eyes on you anytime you were near each other. Part of you wanted to say something, but for some reason, you could never find it in yourself to tell him to stop staring. You were still mad. This whole thing made you angry and you knew your friends could sense the tension. Everyone in the office could but they probably didn’t question why. They all still thought you hated him after all.

You did… didn’t… you…? It was confusing then and ten times more confusing now. Still though, you tried to keep to yourself and ignore what happened. You thought you were doing a good job of it until you got an email that Friday.

From Director Jeon Jungkook,

can we talk??

It was informal, nothing about work was mentioned, and it was all too familiar with the Jungkook you had met during your late-night rendezvous… meeting! Yes, you were only there for one reason that night, and it was to get things ready for the budget presentation. Maybe this was his attempt at trying to be more comfortable with you. He did say all the formalities felt weird considering you were the same age. That had to be it!

As much as you wanted to delude yourself, deep down you knew whatever he emailed you for had something to do with that night. 

You let him know you’d come over during your lunch break, resisting the urge to tell him you didn’t want to talk about it. But you figured it had to be at least somewhat important for him to reach out. It better be. What part of pretending nothing happened between you two did he not understand?

That’s how you found yourself making your way through the halls to Jeon Jungkook’s office. You tried to be as inconspicuous as you could, turning every corner with ease and looking around anytime you’d hear footsteps behind you. Just being in the same vicinity made you feel like someone would find out what you both did.  

Your brain had rationalized that being seen together would surely be the obvious sign to everyone that you fucked your boss a few days ago. It made no sense whatsoever, you knew that, but still, you made sure to be as stealthy as you could on your way over.

You hoped no one saw you, and you were especially grateful when you passed Secretary Yu’s desk and she wasn’t there either. If you could make this quick, no one would realize you were ever here. 

Staring at the door, you found your heart beating out of control at the thought of facing him again. You knew you weren’t ready for this, you probably would never be, but it was still so soon after it happened…

It took you a second, but eventually you found the strength to knock before pushing open the door.

You were greeted by a similar sight as last time. His office was almost completely dark. He had kept the lights off and closed the blinds so only a sliver of light was peering into the room through the cracks. You could only make out a vague outline, but as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you could finally make out Jungkook sitting at his desk. You could see his hands were in his hair, and the more closely you listened, the more you could hear his soft sniffles. Your first instinct was to run over to see what was going on, but you refrained as you steadily made your way over, only narrowly avoiding any furniture in the way. 

“Jungkook?” You called out, your heart nearly speeding out of your chest.

“Y/n…?” His voice sounded so strained.

“Yes, it’s me.” You tried to keep your tone flat, but it wavered slightly as you got closer.

With the confirmation it was you, Jungkook reached over to the lamp on his desk and finally turned on the light. You were shocked to see how disheveled he looked once the warm glow of the lamp hit his features. His hair looked like he had run his hands through it way too many times, his eyes were shot, his face was red, and tears stained his cheeks. 

Seeing him like this, it was hard to keep up your tough exterior. You quickly made your way over to his desk, keeping a notable distance between you two— standing behind the chairs sitting in front of his desk. You feared what might happen if you got any closer. 

“Um, you asked to speak with me.” This is how you’d usually talk whenever he’d call you to his office. Part of you was still holding onto the hope that this was just work related. 

You watched as a whole new wave of emotion seemingly hit Jungkook, fresh tears falling from his eyes as his hands returned to his hair. 

“I—um— I know we said we weren’t going to talk about that night, but… um—” Jungkook tried his best to be firm about this, but his whole world felt like it was coming down. He couldn’t sleep last night thinking about having this conversation with you, and now that you were here, it all felt too real.

“… I don’t remember using protection that night.” Jungkook was only able to meet your gaze for a second, long enough to see the look of shock on your face.

A whole new wave of guilt washed over him. This was all his fault.

“I know I didn’t have condoms with me, and unless you did and I didn’t realize you put one on, then…” Jungkook looked like he was pleading with you to tell him he forgot, that he was just so out of it he didn’t realize you had put one on some time in between. He had no reason to carry any with him personally. It’s not like he was expecting Yuri to fuck him in a place where he’d need to have them on him at all times— hell, they hardly used the condoms they kept at the apartment. Jungkook had never even managed to make it through a whole box without needing to replace them first because they’d expired. 

Still though, they were always so careful whenever they had sex. Jungkook spent the entire night mind-boggled at how he could have been so careless with you. And now, because he couldn’t control himself, there was a chance he might have ruined both of your lives. His own life was already shit, but now he might be bringing you down with him. He already had, but somehow the pit only grew deeper.

You sighed at the question— slightly relieved this was going to be easy to answer. 

“Don’t worry.” You remained apathetic, not exactly the emotional breakdown he expected considering the gravity of the situation. All night Jungkook had pictured that the minute he’d tell you, you would scream and curse at him for being so careless. It was almost uncanny how calm you were in comparison. You used the exact same tone whenever you’d talk to him about work, in the office when you had a quick question, or in front of the prying eyes of your nosy coworkers, like it was the most nonchalant thing ever. 

While your words were soothing, he couldn’t calm down quite yet.

“I’m on birth control, so as long as you’re clean we should be fine.” It took a minute for your words to register, but an immediate flush came to his cheeks. He completely forgot about birth control or that ever being a possibility of the invisible contraceptive he had prayed all night for. He felt even more embarrassed that he hadn’t considered you had some type of plan that night. Of course, you were smart, you wouldn’t let someone so pathetic ruin your life.

You watched his face, and you were honestly delighted to see a slight look of relief quickly settle over his soft, saddened features. You tried your best to hide it.

“Oh— I’m sorry. Of course you thought about it— good. We should be good then.” His voice was shaky, and while his words said one thing, he still seemed stressed for some reason as his hands were quickly back in his hair. 

Again, you had to resist the urge to ask him if he was ok. Distance, you had to keep this boundary up. You needed to get out of here.

“If you’re concerned about the other issue, I’ll make sure to pick up a morning-after pill or something on my way home just to ensure we’re fine,” you added, and he slowly nodded. Honestly, even if he hadn't said yes, you probably would have gone anyway just to be safe. You should have done it sooner, but you completely forgot about that detail while trying to push Tuesday out of your mind. 

“It’s up to you…” He mumbled, but he still seemed off. You had to get out of here.

“If that’s all then, I’ll be on my way sir—” You bowed, trying to be as polite as possible, before turning around and heading for the door.

“Wait!” You couldn’t even take two steps before he was calling you back. You visibly tensed up as you slowly turned around. You were greeted with his shiny brown eyes finally meeting your own for the first time since you walked in. Suddenly you felt your knees start getting weak. There was no reason for him to look at you like that.

“Don’t leave… that’s not all I wanted to say…” You could see in the way he looked at you that this was going to be the conversation you feared when you walked in. You resisted the urge to mention that you both agreed not to speak about it, but instead you just crossed your arms, ready to listen.

“I— um… I owe you a major apology…” He stumbled and his hands were back in his hair.

“That night— I don’t know what was wrong with me— it shouldn’t have happened, you were right.” He stopped for a second, and you wondered what he was trying to get at. What more was there to say? It really shouldn’t have happened.

“But…” Jungkook’s voice wavered as he looked up at you. “I’m even more sorry that despite how wrong I know it was I—” he took a deep breath “I can’t stop thinking about that night.” He truly felt bad. Here he was, trying his best to put his mistake behind him, yet all it did was fill his thoughts. Where was the guilt? Why wasn’t he so ashamed that just the thought of you was enough to remind him of what he’d done?

He saw your hard expression falter for a second, but it was back before he even realized. Jungkook felt like he was at his wits end. Everything was crashing down, and he didn’t have much to lose at this point. 

“And now all I can think about is…” tears quickly filled his eyes knowing what he was about to say “— how I want to do it again so, so badly… it had never felt that good before.” It was a sad, deep, dark confession that he hated as soon as it came out of his mouth. Admitting it was nice was one thing, but wanting to do it again was another.

Maybe you could excuse that night as a one-time thing— he was a mess, you both had some wine, and shit happened before you both could even realize. It was nonsense, Jungkook didn’t drink nearly enough to say he was acting against his own volition, and it wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision either. He had thought about having you against every surface in the office before anything actually happened. He’d wanted you nearly as long as you’d worked here.

Jungkook finally had to look away from you as his words settled in the air.

“Jungkook… you know what continuing, even just acknowledging what happened— you know what that would mean…?” You were honestly baffled and you hated the way your heart nearly beat out of your chest at the mention of it.

“Yes.” It was so quiet, and with the faint glow of his lamp you could see a new wave of tears start running down his cheeks. 

“That night— it was all my fault...” His voice was shaky just thinking about it. 

“I told you that I’m in an arranged marriage and that things are rough right now… it’s my fault, everything is my fault.” It certainly was.

“Despite the circumstances we got married in, we both agreed to try to make our relationship work, and I’ve just kept messing things up no matter how hard I tried to make her happy.” It’s been nearly four years and he could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d made her smile.

“She hates me, and I don’t blame her at all— I honestly deserve it and more.” He deserved far worse at this point.

“Why would your wife hate you?” You couldn’t help but ask, but you regretted it as soon as it left your mouth. The fact you had somehow found yourself in this situation proved that something wasn’t right. But the question had bounced around in your head for the past few days, wondering what might be splitting the couple to the point Jungkook sought you out for relief.

He looked at you for a split second. “I don’t know how to be a good husband. No matter what I do, I don’t know how to make her happy like I should.” He attested with a level of pain in his voice that you weren’t prepared for. 

“Jungkook…” You were speechless… a deep, unsettling, uneasy feeling spread throughout your body as you listened. You had zero insight into the situation, but despite everything, it felt wrong to hear him be so down on himself. It was heartbreaking to listen to.

“I don’t think you deserve to be hated—” You tried to console, but Jungkook stopped you before you could finish.

“No… she deserves a better husband— a different one— someone who can make her happy, and I should just… just disappear— I can’t do anything right.” He tried to laugh but it just came out like a pained sob. It wasn’t funny and he couldn’t even pretend to laugh at that anymore.

“Jungkook—”  You called out again, but he stopped you in your tracks. 

“I hope you believe me when I say that that night was the first time something like that happened.” His shiny eyes looked up at you again, and you could have broken down right then and there. The pain, you could see it so clearly.

“I despise cheating and the fact that— that— that night happened, I just—” He couldn’t be more disappointed in himself. He’d forever tainted his marriage, just like his parents had done.

Even if Yuri never found out, the fear of her somehow discovering what he did one day… the guilt would kill him. Their anniversary was coming up in a few months— how could he look her in the eyes and relive the moments of their wedding day knowing he betrayed their vows, her trust, knowing that she had every reason to leave him?

Maybe one day he could finally get his shit together and Yuri could love him the way he’d always dreamed, but that would all come crashing down one day when she somehow found out what he did. 

Jungkook at least thought he was above that. The one thing he knew he could promise Yuri was that he’d always be by her side, faithfully and earnestly, yet he’d found a way to fuck that up too.

There really was no happy ending for him, was there?

“I’m sorry— it shouldn’t have happened, and I feel horrible bringing you into my mess.”

You wanted to say that you were equally to blame, but Jungkook was faster.

“And— and I just… I’m sorry— we agreed to try and move on from this but I just can’t stop thinking about you and that night and—” It wasn’t even funny how much he thought about you. Right before you walked in, he had the lights off to hide his shame because even in the middle of what he thought was a crisis, all he could think about was you on his desk. And seeing you now standing in front of him…

“I’m sorry…” Jungkook just cried. He really didn’t have the words to describe how he felt right now. 

“I spoke to a therapist about it.” Jungkook could instantly see the slight panic on your face at the mention of him telling someone about this. “I took your advice from that night about talking to someone. I really wasn’t in a good place at all, and if I hadn’t, I think I might have gone crazy. He was supposed to help me and Yuri with the issues in our marriage, but he’s helped me with more than just my relationship. Don’t worry. Yuri won’t find out.” Jungkook had full trust that the doctor wouldn’t tell Yuri about the affair. Even though their conversation wasn’t protected by doctor-patient confidentiality, he still knew the doctor wouldn’t say anything. He was expecting that Jungkook was going to tell her on his own time. 

You were a little taken aback by the news, but your memory of that night was clear. You knew when you parted ways that he really didn’t seem okay. The fact that it was a therapist he confided in made you relax a little.

“I went to him for a slap on the face, but instead he said— he said I should consider stepping away from Yuri for a little while and take the time to try and figure out what I want in life. But I can’t— I want her, and I want to make our marriage work somehow.” Jungkook was in tears again. He didn’t want to give up on his marriage yet. He couldn’t give up, so many people were counting on him to make this work.

“But I can’t think straight. I’m always so frustrated and you’re always in my head— I know I could be better— it’s not an excuse, I should be better, but—” What was he even saying?

“That night was— it never felt that good before— you were there for me, and despite how much of a mess I was, you—” Why? The question had never run through his head until now, but what could have possibly been your reason for being there with him that night? You were too nice. His thoughts were running a million miles an hour. He honestly couldn’t think clearly anymore.

“And your clothes— I’m sorry about that, I’m so sorry— it had— it had been ten months since I last, you know… but that’s not an excuse. I’m sorry, I should have been better.” He should have been. Imagine how disappointed Yuri would be if she knew. 

“Ten months?” This conversation had gone all over the place, but you couldn’t hide your shock at this piece of news. You had just let him rant, not wanting to interrupt to give him the chance to get whatever he needed off his chest, but you just couldn’t hide your reaction. 

Ten months was certainly not normal, especially considering he was married and had no kids to take up his free time after work. Suddenly, things started making a little more sense.

“It’s my fault— it’s all my fault— I’m not a good husband, I should have been able to wait longer if I had to— or maybe she would have wanted me sooner if I was better.” If he was better he wouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place. 

There were some things that Jungkook said that made your skin crawl. It was possible his whole spiel could be some convoluted way into excusing what happened between you two, but then he said statements like that that would make alarm bells go off in your head. That certainly wasn’t right. 

“But I want to be better. I want to make things right, and I just feel like I can’t do that when all I can think about is—” Jungkook didn’t finish, instead letting a pained sigh say everything he couldn’t. 

“And I know it’s pathetic, but I wanted your help—” There it was, what’s been on his mind since that night. “Maybe you could tell me what I could do better— how to make her happy, what I’m lacking. And I just can’t stop thinking about you—” He looked up at you with those shiny, round eyes that made it so hard to say no.

And there it was, exactly what you feared when you walked in. 

So much was happening, so many emotions thrown at you that you were tempted to take a seat in the chair in front of you to sit down and process it all. You tried your best to remove all emotion from this, to look at this as objectively as you could, but with Jungkook right in front of you and hearing everything he said—

You knew something was wrong from the minute you walked into your first meeting together, but you could have never predicted just how bad things were. You had no idea what went on behind closed doors. Maybe things really might be as bad as Jungkook said, but the hurt, pain, and desperation he spoke with made the wall you tried putting up impossible to keep from crashing down.

It took you back to Mi-Sun once again. You remembered talking to her in class sometimes and how she would spin every inconvenience into her doing. She always emphasized how it was her fault the other girls would tease her as much as they did. You didn’t understand it then, but Jungkook’s admissions almost felt like a repeat of what happened all those years ago, and you knew how that story ended.

“It’s my fault.” She had said so aimlessly as she stared out the window you both sat by.

“How is it your fault?!” You’d questioned, maybe a little too harshly. You couldn’t believe her words, considering you knew she had never done anything wrong. The girls were rude, you had no idea why, but Mi-Sun had been their target since you both made it to high school. 

She should have known this, and it just made you angry. “They’re the problem, they have always been the problem. They’re rude just because they can be, and for some reason, no one is doing anything to stop it, and—”

“Y/n, just look at me!” You had turned to your friend, her eyes teary, and you should have seen it sooner. “It’s all my fault.” She softly cried before you pulled her into your arms. 

You didn’t see it then, and the way Jungkook spoke now made you feel like you were back in high school, in class, right by the window you both would always sit by as Mi-Sun stared out, the light shining in her eyes growing dimmer as each day passed. 

“Jungkook… you know what continuing would mean…” You looked at him worriedly.

You saw the tears run down his cheeks again as he slowly nodded his head. 

“If anyone were to find out about that night, we could maybe just say we had too much to drink, it was late, or you could even mention your breakdown. Doing anything more would truly turn this into cheating. We’d have no excuses at that point.” Your eyes were sad as you noticed his expression grow more pained.

“And since you’re still trying to make things work with your wife— I just don’t think that’s the smartest idea. If we leave things where they’re at now, it would give us our best chance of going back to normal and putting the whole thing behind us.” 

You could see the consequences coming from a mile away. You knew there would only be trouble going forward. You certainly weren’t a homewrecker by any means. You didn’t want to be the reason things came crashing down.

Jungkook steadily nodded.

“I probably look pathetic right now— I’m sorry, I don’t want you to think I’m forcing you or anything considering—” Jungkook was your boss… or well, technically your boss’s boss, but the dynamic was still a little strange. It was all strange. This whole situation was strange. 

But it felt like you were with Mi-Sun all over again. You didn’t see the signs then, but Jungkook was right in front of you. You had the chance to help someone in a way you couldn’t help your friend in high school. What might happen if you just walked away from this now? A repeat? Or maybe something even worse. 

“You don’t look pathetic, and I know you’re not forcing me… it’s just… things are going to get really complicated if we decide to do this.”

The vagueness of your statement was intentional— it’s not like you were saying no, because you weren’t. You really didn’t want to get involved in this, but seeing Jungkook so low… You didn’t think he was pathetic, however hearing him rant like this was just painful. Things weren’t right, and finding out your night together made him feel even the slightest bit better made you want to help him in any way you could. You hated seeing the dark cloud storming over him and his sad, tired gaze anytime you’d meet his eyes. It was difficult to watch, and as reckless as it was, you wanted to do anything to take away his pain just like you had wished you could’ve taken Mi-Sun’s pain away.

Jungkook visibly picked up on the fact that you didn’t outright say no, and part of you hated seeing the glimmer of hope in his eyes. This really was a bad idea to even entertain the idea of continuing, but at the same time, it was nice to see his gloom wash away, if only for a second. But that moment only lasted for a second before his expression suddenly changed into something darker, somehow even more disturbed.

“I promise I'll be good.” It was an odd choice of words that immediately caught you off guard. 

“I’ll stay in line, I won’t ask for anything in return. I’ll wait until you want me. I promise I’ll be good, I promise.” It was his last-ditch effort to convince you. He was almost pleading with you. You couldn’t help but look at him strangely, wondering what he meant by that.

“I’ll be good— I have to be good— I don’t want to disappoint you either.” Things had truly taken a turn. Jungkook's expression grew more pained by the second, the cloud that hovered around him stormed with a concerning ferocity. 

“I’ll be good— I promise— I promise I’ll wait.” Jungkook was slipping off an edge you didn’t see coming. The tears so easily slipped past his eyes, an uneasiness behind his desperate gaze. For some reason, you knew deep down this wasn’t coming from nowhere, especially after hearing his rant earlier…

“What do you mea—” But you couldn’t finish your sentence. The wave had already come crashing down over him, and you saw Jungkook fall to pieces first-hand. Even in the subtle light, you could see he was shaking.

“I’ll wait, I’ll wait if you want me to— as long as you need me to— I’ll be good— I promise!” He looked you in the eye, but for some reason you felt like he was looking right through you.

“I don’t want to disappoint you— I’ll be good— I have to be good— I have to— I’ll wait— I promise I’ll wait!” This had turned into a full-blown meltdown. You could see it in the look in his eyes. Something was on his mind, and it was tearing him apart. As much as you wanted to remain as neutral as possible, you couldn’t just stand there anymore and watch this. You quickly made your way around his desk so you were standing right beside him. His hands were back in his hair and his rambling had nearly turned incoherent.

In the low light you could see his hands trembling, and you quickly had to stop the tears from pouring out at that point. You couldn’t imagine what he must have gone through to make him so upset. If this was all a ruse then he deserved to be in Hollywood, but even suggesting that this might be a trick just felt beyond cruel. He was clearly struggling…

“Jungkook— please— please look at me.” You tried to remain calm, but your voice wavered in the middle.

“I’ll be good!” You could barely make his words out through the sobs. 

“Jungkook… please look at me…” You gently tapped him on the shoulder. You were a little calmer this time, and that finally had him turning to face you, breaking him out of his trance.

He was finally looking up at you with his big, round, sad eyes, and your heart nearly broke in two when you saw his lip quiver slightly. He seemed so innocent, yet so broken, and you just wanted to fix him somehow.

You brought your hand up to lightly cup his cheek— they were wet, so, so wet, and as you moved his hair out his face, you could feel the tips had grown damp. Tears steadily continued to pour onto your fingers, but you tried your best to wipe them away. You also didn’t miss the way he practically careened into your warmth.

Such a pretty boy shouldn’t cry like this.

“I’ll wait…” He muttered as he looked at you. This time you knew he was talking to you.

“What do you mean you’ll wait?” You asked gently as you continued to wipe the tears from his eyes.

“As long as you need me to… weeks, months, years. I’ll wait until you want me.” Something about the way he said this, the pain in his voice made it that much more heartbreaking. Weeks were already crazy, but months, years? For some reason, the strain in the way he said this along with what he mentioned earlier, made you think this went deeper than his breakdown.

“I’ll be good, I promise— I’ll wait— I can’t disappoint you too.” He sobbed into your hands. Too? No, this wouldn’t do.

“Jungkook, what do you want?” You asked, looking him directly in the eyes. Your question visibly confused him at first, which just made you feel bold enough to go a step further. You looked toward the door before looking back down at him. 

“Are you expecting anyone here any time soon?” 

Confusedly, he shook his head. “It’s lunch right now— Secretary Yu went out to get something to eat and I don’t have any appointments.”

At this news, you let go of his pretty face and grabbed the end of your skirt. It was tight, so you pulled it up slightly before taking a seat right on his lap. You paid close attention to the look on his face, and you saw the panic before you felt it. His confusion turned into worry as he looked down at where you were sitting. He knew you could feel it, a surprise you had not expected when you sat down. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll wait, I promise!” He seemed panicked as he looked at you. His hands hovered over your waist, too scared to push anything further.  He said he’d wait, but he was hard underneath you.

Jungkook’s thoughts had been filled with you even before you walked in. They always were whenever he was in his office these days, the memories returning so vividly as he’d stare at his desk where it happened. 

“I can wait, I promise!” He tried to defend, but his brain was already starting to get fuzzy just from having you on his lap. 

“Jungkook, what do you want?” You asked again, wrapping your arms around his neck. He was tense, but you felt him momentarily grab ahold of your waist and pull you a little closer. It would be so easy to kiss him like this.

“I…” His eyes struggled to meet your own. You were so close. He wanted to look and touch everywhere, but he had to think about you. 

“I want to be good— I promise I’ll wait—” He had tears in his eyes as he stared down at where your bodies met. 

“Mmm…. Is that so?” You looked down and you wondered what he meant about waiting. Clearly he needed something now, you could feel it right underneath you. 

Jungkook shakily nodded.

“Until you want me, I’ll wait.” For a second, you ran his proposed arrangement through your head. What kind of affair would that be? Not that you thought about it before, but who’s ever heard of an affair where the guy is at the beck and call of the person he’s cheating with?

It was even more reason to believe he really hadn’t done anything like this before. Something wasn’t right.

“But what do you want?” Again, you asked because you wanted to hear it, but you felt like he needed to say it to himself even more. You could almost see the fear in his eyes as your question lingered. You could feel him shaking underneath you, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about… or who.

“To be good…” His eyes only met yours for a second before they trailed down your body. His words were saying one thing, but his eyes were telling you another. Maybe you should help him out a little.

When you started getting closer, Jungkook thought you were going to kiss him. Maybe he wished you did, but what you ended up doing was even more unexpected. Your face grazed past his own and suddenly your lips were brushing against his neck. 

“Oh…” Jungkook felt his cheeks warm, and his hands were gripping your waist before he could stop them. 

You didn’t tease him for long, instead planting gentle, light, feathery kisses along his burning skin. His brain was shot the minute you stepped close, but like this, he was fighting so hard to stop himself from pulling you closer. You felt so good against him, so good, and it was already so hard.

“Y/n…” It came out like a whine and he didn’t mean it to. His eyes were watery, it hurt so much.

“Mhmm” Your voice was soft and—

“Y/n— I’ll wait— I promise, but I’m weak, and please— if you don’t want this… just please go easier on me.” Jungkook finally just cried. This was Yuri all over again. He didn’t want to disappoint you too, not another person. He didn’t need another person to hate him.

“But what about what you want?” You scooted closer, inches away from where he wanted you the most. He thought this would be the moment you’d get off, where you’d tell him to stop crying and scold his very existence. But you didn’t.

Your kisses slowed and you lingered on his skin for longer, lightly sucking spots you somehow discovered were sensitive. Jungkook gripped your hips hard, and he couldn’t stop himself from rutting up into you. It hurt so much, and Jungkook wanted nothing more than to touch you. This was just cruel.

“Y/n…” Jungkook cried, unable to stop the tears from spilling over.

You pulled back enough to see his face. You saw the tears and quickly leaned forward to kiss his cheek. He stared at you wide-eyed, still with that pained look on his face.

“Jungkook, you keep asking what I want, but I want to hear from you. What do you want?” You asked again, softly. You were pressing buttons he didn’t know he had. Why were you being so cruel?

A choked sob left his lips as he held onto your waist tightly. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t do this. 

Like you were sensing his struggle, you leaned in again and started planting languid kisses along his neck. He didn’t have much resilience anyway, paper-thin might even be an exaggeration with the way he was feeling. You were too close and he was too needy, the days of longing making it impossible to think straight, to resist like he knew he should.

“Y/n…” It came out as a moan as you subtly moved your hips against him. This was a warning, a warning that you clearly ignored because your pace grew faster with each glide of your hips.  Tears poured harder from his eyes.

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked when he still hadn’t said anything. 

Jungkook felt his body react faster than his mind did. His arms came up and tightly wrapped around your frame. The thought of you leaving when he felt like he was seconds away from exploding made him panic. 

You were pulled flush against his chest before you could even realize.

“I want you so bad— it hurts so much— please don’t leave me.” He sounded exasperated. He was shaking around you as you could feel the tears running down his face and hitting your cheek.

Shame washed over him as his words settled in the air. He was begging. How sad and pathetic he must have looked. He was all too sure that he’d already ruined things with you. 

You seemed to sense he was spiraling, so you were quick to press gentle kisses up his neck, across his jawline, and steadily made your way across his cheek to settle right beside his quivering lips. 

His sniffling grew quieter as you worked. Instead, soft moans that he was trying to hold back grew stifled and needier. When you made it to his lips, there was a moment of hesitation. But it was truly only for a moment as Jungkook didn’t allow for anymore, finally closing the distance between you.

It happened so fast, you both nearly bumped heads at the speed he moved, and you weren’t prepared for how vigorous his kiss was. Jungkook kissed you like his life depended on it, and in some sense, you feared it really did. 

You were quick getting into it though, matching his rhythm until your lips were moving together in sync. It just felt so right. 

That same warmth Jungkook felt deep down in his chest on that fateful night was back with an overwhelming force. He could have cried— scratch that, he was crying, but for an entirely different reason. 

Your lips were so soft, and with your arms wrapped around him… for a second, all the pain washed away. There was no one else in the world, no worries, it was just you and him together, alone in his office. This felt right in every way possible, and he couldn’t get you close enough. 

The kiss was wet, hot, and you were so needy your body felt like it might burst into flames within a split second. It was destructive and consumed you both so quickly that you had no chance of coming to your senses. This was a bad idea, but you’d think about that later. Instead, you eagerly ground down onto him, making him softly moan into your lips. 

His hands rested on your waist, and you could feel his fleeting attempts to touch you more, but it was like something was holding him back. You pulled away and he really was too pretty, your lipstick was all over his face, his lips shiny and stained red.

“Do you want this?” He suddenly asked, out of breath. For a second his question didn’t even register, because what?

“I don’t… I don’t want you to think I’m forcing you into this. I’ll wait, you could even walk away entirely if you aren’t comfortable doing this.” He spoke with round, sad eyes like he really was concerned. But you could still feel him throbbing underneath you. How he was this hard over a little teasing… you honestly worried for his pants at how well you could feel his aching length. 

“Jungkook…” You sighed, lifting your hand to move his messy bangs away from his eyes. You could see his face a little better and it hurt seeing how red it was, stained with tears, and a sad look behind his dark gaze. 

You leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to his cheek before moving your lips right by his ear. 

“Would I be in your lap otherwise?” So soft and sultry in his ear. And he moaned, not holding back at all, completely forgetting you both were still in a public setting. He could have cum just from that alone. But he didn’t care, he was seconds away from losing his mind if something didn’t happen soon.

And then you were back to peppering kisses along his neck, this time going full force at sucking at the skin. 

“Ahhh! Y/n— please!” He hissed, letting the tears fall from his eyes. He was going to explode, he was going to explode, please, please just touch him. 

Jungkook didn’t wait for you to progress things further. He couldn’t find it in himself to be patient. Instead, his hands quickly moved down your waist, the arch of your back, and settled onto the curve of your ass, groping and feeling with a hurried need. 

The motion made you gasp, easily allowing him to slip his tongue inside. It was completely unexpected, especially considering how timid he’d been acting so far, you definitely weren’t prepared. He was the one in control now. It was his tongue that was exploring every inch of your mouth fervently. It was hot and heavy, with a desperation you hadn’t felt since you were a teenager. Your hands cupped his cheeks before tightly tangling in his hair, somehow trying to pull him closer. It was this antsy, erupting feeling. You both hidden away from the world while you tried your best to contain yourselves in a public setting. You could feel his excitement through his suit pants which he tried to hide while pulling you closer at the same time. 

“Oh fuck.” He softly moaned into the kiss as your hands found their rightful place in his long, dark hair. You pulled and tugged on the strands, enjoying the soft whines of pleasure Jungkook let out underneath you. 

It was happening so fast, yet not fast enough. Any time you attempted to pull away, he held you closer in his arms. It was hard to keep up, but you weren’t prepared for the heat to consume you so quickly, you felt like you were doused in gasoline. It was insane, and you wanted so much more with each brush of his lips against yours.

You were so in the moment that you weren’t prepared for his hands to go lower, slipping under your skirt to hastily pull it up around your waist. For a moment, it didn’t even register until you began to feel the cold breeze against the newly exposed skin. It was at this that you finally pulled away. 

For a brief moment, Jungkook tried to stop you, but then you felt the building confidence quickly leave his body as he realized something was wrong. He stared up at you, the shininess in his eyes returning all too quickly.

“I—I’m sorry…” His voice was shaking.

“Don’t apologize—”

“I’ll wait, I’m sorry. I’m rushing things, I’m sorry…” It’s like he wasn’t listening all over again as he shakily tried to pull your skirt back down. 

It was then that you realized how this might have looked. 

“It’s not that— it’s just… I know it’s a little hard to forget, but we’re in public… in your office.” You pointed out, and you saw Jungkook’s face grow red as he looked around. It seemed like he really did forget where you were.

“I’m sorry—” He cried, letting go of you entirely. 

“No— we don’t need to stop. Going all the way might not be the best idea, especially in a room without a lock, but I was thinking we could do something a little quicker.” You smiled gently at him. Jungkook was visibly confused at this, so you took this as your cue to slip off his lap and onto your knees right in front of him. 

“Will this work for you?” You smiled up at him mischievously, hoping he got the picture. But for some reason he still was staring down at you with those round eyes that made him look so innocent and… confused?

“What are you doing?” His voice was so small. Your hand was resting on his lap, so close to where he wanted you, and just— why did you have to get off of him?

It was your turn to be confused. 

“You know…” You lightly laughed, thinking this might be some type of joke, but Jungkook still maintained the same perplexed gaze. It was then that your face dropped. Suddenly the possibility of him actually being confused ran through your head.

“You do know what a blowjob is, right?” You were a bit blunt, but honestly you were expecting him to laugh at you. A funny joke in the heat of the moment to make you smile, but instead of the giggle you were expecting, you suddenly watched him get flustered.

“Right…?” You asked again, growing weary. 

“Uh— I do— did? I didn’t think they were a real thing people actually do…” His voice just grew smaller as he looked down at you. He quickly got the picture that wasn’t normal.

You immediately had so many questions. You were the same age, yet….? How, how did this happen? Did someone tell him that? No guy would ever think that without some type of influence. That also meant he probably wasn’t the most experienced, as far as partners go, because you highly doubt people came into his life and never once tried sucking his dick or at least offered. The other day Jungkook did mention he’s only been with his wife, and an uneasy shudder ran through your body as you mentally started connecting the dots. 

“Um— Jungkook, if you’re not comfortable, we could—” 

“No, please! Please don’t stop— I… please…” He cried, grabbing onto your hand that was sitting in his lap, but immediately he was horrified in himself, realizing he was begging again. Yuri always hated that so much. 

“I mean— I mean…” His eyes grew watery. “It just hurts so much…” Jungkook wanted to fuck you on top of his desk again, he was only a moment away from picking you up and doing just that. 

“If you’re comfortable, I won’t stop.” You gave him a warm smile, careful not to frighten or overwhelm him, along with a gentle, reassuring squeeze to his thigh to keep him relatively calm.

Jungkook subtly, but not so subtly, tried to move himself closer to your hand. He was hardly paying attention, his mind completely enthralled with needing some type of relief. He’d take anything at this point.

“Jungkook?” You questioned when he still hadn’t responded.

“P-Please…!” He stammered out, seeing how close your hand was. Just a little closer and he could…

You looked down and noticed his efforts, making you chuckle. “Alright then, I’ll be quick. Just let me know when you’re close.”

Again, he wasn’t paying as much attention as he should, but suddenly his eyes went wide as you lightly began running your hands up his thighs. Jungkook moaned at the touch as you ran over the very obvious outline in his slacks. Anything at this point felt so intense. He just needed more.

You were quick to give him just that. As you reached up to start undoing his belt, he finally had to look away, knowing what was coming next. 

You went a little slow, not to just tease him, but to give him a chance to turn back if he got uncomfortable at any moment. You were too fascinated by how tiny his waist looked to notice his growing panic.

Jungkook wanted to scream when you started to unzip his pants— he wanted more, but he was terrified. As he felt you pull him out from his underwear, his eyes grew watery, not needing to look down to feel your gaze. You were staring at him. 

Things were different from the last time. While he had the blinds closed and the lights were low, he knew there was still more than enough light to see him. A wave of anxiety washed over him faster than a tsunami, the dread of your judgment completely taking him out of the moment. He’d only been with two people before. The fear of it not looking right or not being up to your standards was still very real and alive. Maybe that was the reason Yuri didn’t want him, and you have probably experienced so much better— you deserve so much better than anything he could give you— 

His thoughts were spiraling, but you were quick to step in once again, noticing he’d grown tense underneath you. 

You directed your attention to his length that you had firmly grasped in your hand. You marveled at being able to see it in its full glory unlike last time. It was pretty and practically had you drooling, leaving you more than excited to see how it feels in your mouth. It was firm in your grasp and it curved slightly towards the flaming red tip, and you had to stop yourself from moaning at the delicious vein running along the side. 

You stared, maybe for too long, at the way it bopped at the slightest movements and gently started leaking precum onto your hand, steadily dripping to create a small puddle that ran down your skin. Staring wasn’t the right thing to do considering how self-conscious he seemed ,and it took you way too long to look up and see his attention on the ceiling with wet streaks running down his cheeks.

“You’re so pretty, don’t you know that?” You smiled as you slowly started to pump his length. The action was enough to make Jungkook look down at you, moaning at your words, and fuck— The sight was enough to send him to a new dimension and back. You had moved closer so your face was right by where he needed you, and you were touching him so well—

“Y/n…” It was a hushed sob. Any louder and he was scared he’d scream. His tears were now streaming for an entirely different reason. It was quick and all these emotions were swirling around in his head. It was too much and he wanted you to stop it.

Your strokes were slow, but it really didn’t take much. It had been too long, too much running away and edging; he just wanted relief.

“Y/n—” He cried again, this time more desperate. He was shaking.   

You put him out of his misery only slightly as you used your thumb to rub over the slit and marveled at the way more precum continued to leak over your finger with each swipe.

“Oh— fuck.” He whined, shifting around so you’d touch him more. His hands were balled into tight fists as he watched you, knuckles turning white in the process. Part of him wanted to look away in shame, but you commanded his attention in a way that he couldn’t turn anywhere else. 

You met his shameful gaze as you looked up at him with glistening eyes, and Jungkook hated how much he wanted to ruin you all over again. Leave you a mess so his colleagues could see how horrible he was. 

Jungkook was on edge and you had barely touched him. You could tell he was growing antsy, so you finally moved so that you were mere centimeters away from his pleading cock. The sight alone could have made him cum. You, staring up at him with eager, excited eyes, and as he looked down at you, a guttural sound escaped his lips before he could catch it. 

There was only a moment of hesitation, a moment that dragged on for eternity. With your gaze, you were waiting to see if he had any doubts about continuing, but Jungkook held on with bated breath, giving no signs of wanting to stop. 

He was a little confused… no, that wasn’t right… anxious? He hardly had a clue what to expect. He knew what a blowjob was… kinda? He knew what they were from videos he saw when he was younger, but everyone always talked about how exaggerated they were. He had no idea what a real blow job was like and what to expect. How long had it been since the thought even crossed his mind? He couldn’t remember anymore.

Jungkook was in his head again, but the very sudden feeling of your tongue quickly swiping across the tip briskly jolted him back into the moment, making him nearly jump out of his chair. 

Oh.

He didn’t even realize he had said it out loud, and at a volume that was far too loud, until the soft sounds of your chuckles got his attention. 

“Can’t be too loud~” You smiled, and Jungkook felt his whole body set ablaze with an inferno he wasn’t prepared for in the slightest. 

“Just let me know when you’re close—” you reminded him once again. He wondered if you could tell he wouldn’t last long. You would be right. “Sit back, relax. I’ll take care of you.” You smiled. 

Jungkook had to take a moment to stare at you. Your eyes shone from his desk lamp, your lipstick had already started to smear across your lips from your heated activities earlier, and your hair grew more disheveled by the second. Your invitation to relax and let you essentially take care of him made shivers run up his spine, and he couldn’t nod for you to continue any faster. 

He listened to your advice and finally leaned back in his office chair, waiting for you to have your way with him. The moment he got more comfortable, you were back on him, his cock in hand as you leaned in once again to give a teasing lick to the tip. 

Ohhhhhh—

He didn’t mean to, but you were teasing him too much. You probably thought it was pathetic how he practically chased after your mouth when you pulled away. It wasn’t long before you were back though, slowly swirling your tongue around the tip, tasting the salty precum that continued to leak with each swipe of your tongue, while looking intently at his antsy reactions.

“Ahhhh! Please—” Jungkook had tears in his eyes as he pleaded for you. He felt like he was going to lose his mind. This, fuck— this—

He probably had imprints on his hands from his nails at how tightly he had balled up his fists. Jungkook looked down at you, not wanting to rush you or beg, but he felt like he was at his limit.

Finally, you put him out of his misery. It came unexpectedly. Your gentle licks turned into you engulfing the tip with your mouth. You were slow. You didn’t want to overwhelm him considering this was meant to be his first time.

“Oh, fu—” Jungkook quickly covered his mouth. His fist tightened to the point he could feel his nails digging into his skin. His tears finally spilled as the overwhelming pleasure washed over him as you tried to take more of him down. It was new, a euphoria he had never experienced before, seeing you on your knees pleasing him, taking him so well… it was too sinful to be allowed. And you just kept going, further and further down and—

“Wai—oh my go—” Jungkook tried to whisper, but he was way too loud. He was going to cum. It was like he was suddenly pushed to the edge. He knew he was close, but not that close. 

“Oh—” He moaned. Your mouth was so warm, wet, and inviting. It reminded him too much of the fleeting memory of what it felt like to be inside you. Jungkook quickly had to shut his eyes, focusing all his concentration on not having this end so soon after you just started. The embarrassment— he couldn’t do that to you. But—

“Fuck!”

You went as far as you could before steadily easing back and popping off him to see how he took it. You knew he had been shaking, but you weren’t prepared for his look of distress. 

“You ok?” You lightly chuckle, caressing his thigh— and, woah, were you in for a surprise feeling how firm they were. How much did this boy work out?

You watched as tears slipped from his eyes. “Umm-mm-m,” his voice was shaky as he finally opened his eyes to look at you.

“Can— can you go slow? I won’t make it two seconds otherwise…” He was quiet and sounded out of breath already. His round cheeks were flushed and he could barely look you in the eye.

“It’s all about you. Don’t worry about it too much. Like I told you, sit back and relax. You can let go whenever you’re ready.” You smiled. All you wanted him to do was relax and enjoy it. He seemed so tense, he always seemed so tense. You couldn’t imagine what he must be going through for him to practically be in pieces, always on the verge of tears any time you’d just look at him.

Even now… You finally noticed his tightly balled fist, and he just seemed so tense— too tense for someone who was about to get sucked off. You quickly wrapped one hand around his length again and used the other to grab one of his fists and place it on your head. 

You didn’t want him to think too much, so you quickly took him into your mouth again. He must have understood what you meant because his hand was suddenly in your hair, and electricity ran through your body at the satisfying moan he let out. It was loud, almost like it was meant for anyone to hear. For a moment, you forgot you were in his office in the middle of everyone’s lunch break. That anyone could walk in at any time if you weren’t careful. It seemed you weren’t the only one. 

The moment was short-lived. Jungkook quickly brought his hand back over his mouth to stop himself from making any more noise. The moan caught in his throat was muffled, but you could still sense the urgency in his tone without hearing him fully.  

Each time you bobbed your head up and down, his reactions fueled you to push further. Jungkook was trying to be subtle, you could tell, and it was almost cute how soft he was. Your hand wrapped around his length to stroke whatever your mouth couldn’t take. He whimpered underneath you each time your lips came down around him, and you picked up on the cute way he lightly gripped your hair with each movement you made. It was so subtle, careful not to squeeze too hard, but you could feel when he wanted more.

Jungkook couldn’t even comprehend the emotions flowing through his body, all new sensations that made every touch you gave him feel so intense. He was barely making it as it was, but this was so new, and he just couldn’t—

“Y/n— I’m close…” He sobbed. He felt worse when you stopped momentarily to look at him because you had barely started. You were only a few strokes in and he had tried his best to push past and enjoy it as long as possible, but it was already too much, and—

“I’m sorry…” He cried, that creeping embarrassment washing over him with vigor. He was prepared for you to say something demeaning. Mocking that he could hardly last, that he was a disappointment, that you regretted doing this with him. He was ready for the painful words he’d grown so used to lately, but they never came as you popped off him with a smile. 

“Let go whenever you’re ready.” Your eyes were warm, and for a second he felt all fuzzy inside because it was more compassion than he deserved. 

He felt his eyes grow watery, but right before you were about to finish him off, a sound Jungkook recognized too well filled the emptiness of his office. The blaring ring of the phone that sat on his desk made you both freeze. In an instant, the thin veil you both wore over your eyes, shielding you from the outside world, was ripped away. 

You and Jungkook just stared at each other. An intense fear came over the both of you, but in the moment, Jungkook knew he had to act. He hurriedly tried to pull himself together enough so he could answer the call. With a worried glance sent in your direction, Jungkook slowly picked up the phone.

“H-Hello?” His voice cracked, the strain from all the crying earlier taking its toll at the worst time possible.

“Oh— sir, are you ok?” It was Secretary Yu. 

“Yeah— I’m fine. Is something up?” Jungkook rushed her. With the reassurance it was just his secretary and not an executive, an uncontrollable anger started boiling over at something coming in the way of his relief…

“I’m sorry to interrupt you! I know you’re on your lunch break, but Director Lee is here to see you about a supposed emergency.” Her tone sounded like she felt bad, but Jungkook was more focused on what she said.

He looked down at you, staring wide-eyed at him, waiting for the news.

“Um— can you just tell him to come back later?” Jungkook threaded his fingers through his hair, stressed and unable to hide the annoyance in his voice any longer.

“He says it’s urgent.” She already had an answer, knowing her boss well.

“Fuck.” Jungkook groaned as quietly as he could. It was crude language for work, but his secretary was used to it by now, often on the receiving end of frustrated rants when censoring himself was the least of his concerns. 

“Can you give us—  me a few minutes?” A slip of the tongue, remembering he was technically the only one supposed to be in here. Luckily, she didn’t seem to notice. 

“Of course, just call back when you’re ready.” And with that, she hung up and the countdown began.

As soon as she was gone, Jungkook resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room. Of course the one day he wasn’t in here by himself, Director Lee just had to show up. It probably wasn’t even an actual emergency. He had a habit of doing this from time to time in order for an excuse to speak to Jungkook, and of course this “emergency” had to happen today.

Jungkook looked down at you and debated whether or not there was any conceivable possibility of finishing before Director Lee came in. He was already so close, just a little longer and he’d be putty in your hands.

“What’s going on?” You finally asked when he hadn’t said anything.

“Director Lee’s outside. He says it’s an emergency.” Jungkook felt like crying. He was so close. 

You looked around, panicked, because there was no way you looked presentable, and Jungkook looked more than a little disheveled with his shiny lips and your lipstick all over his face. Instead of thinking about it too much, you hurriedly got to your feet, knees a little shaky from being on them for so long, but that didn’t stop you as you quickly tried to help clean Jungkook up. 

He looked up at you with wide eyes as you used your fingers to wipe away the red stains littered all over his cheeks, lips, and neck. His eyes were glossy and you had to resist the urge to kiss that look off his face knowing that would just leave marks again, but you let your thumb lightly caress his cheek.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise I’ll finish when he leaves.” You reassured him as you tried to help fix his ruffled hair, moving the strands back in place and out of his eyes. 

Jungkook’s heart hammered in his chest so hard he was almost sure you could hear it. His mind was a mess, and the affection just made him want you even more. He would give anything to have you bent over his desk right now. 

He looked presentable, at least enough so that in the dim light hopefully Director Lee wouldn’t question anything. You, though… Where were you going to hide? You looked around.

Your first instinct was to hide behind the blinds, but that would never work in a million years. There was really nowhere in his office you could hide without it being incredibly ridiculous except…

“You think I could fit under there?” You asked quickly, pointing to the spot underneath Jungkook’s desk. It would be a tight fit, but there weren’t any better options.

Jungkook moved out of the way, and with a little maneuvering as you tried your best to find the most comfortable position, you were able to slide underneath. In the meantime, Jungkook went through the painful process of trying to tuck himself back into his pants.

He had tears in his eyes as he struggled for a moment. It was so hard, he was so hard, that at this point trying to get himself back in was more than a task. And his touch… anything could have set him off, but he worked carefully so he wouldn’t end up making a mess in his hands. He couldn’t disappoint you. But it hurt. It hurt so much that at this point, he just had to make do with leaving his pants unzipped because no way in hell he would be able to get them closed. 

With you squished under his desk and he now looking normal enough for this short meeting, Jungkook took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves as he scooched closer to his desk. 

“You— you ok down there?” He asked quickly. 

“Yeah, just don’t be too long.” You called out. Jungkook spread his legs a little wider to give you more room.

It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but at least the view made up for it. 

“I’ll try and make this quick. I’m so sorry…” Jungkook sighed, evidently frustrated. Of all days, this had to happen when he had been so close… so fucking close. Director Lee better have an actual emergency. He had a habit of coming in and claiming “emergencies” when really, he just wanted to talk. Jungkook knew what he was doing, trying to get into his favor in hopes of getting into his dad’s good graces, hoping for a promotion soon or after Jungkook was meant to take over. 

It was annoying under normal circumstances, but if he was trying to do the same thing now… Jungkook took a few deep breaths to calm himself before finally picking up the phone again. 

“Hey… yeah, you can send him in, but please tell him I’m busy and to make it quick.” You intently listened to his words and while Jungkook had tried to stay calm, you could still clearly hear the agitation in his voice.

It was cute. Maybe a little hot too? You shook the thought out of your head, not liking it at all. 

With bated breath, you listened to the sound of the door creek open and the hurried clicks of dress shoes slowly coming closer to the desk. Director Lee was alright in your opinion. He was one of the executives in marketing, but you weren’t sure exactly what he did. He was fine at his job, but he would talk for hours about the most obscure thing. You hadn’t really talked to him much, just seen him at the few meetings you’d attended so far as another executive, but hopefully—

“Head Director Jeon!” Director Lee’s cheerful voice rang out. Jungkook had tried to make himself look busy, quickly shaking his computer awake and mindlessly scrolling over some random document he had open before his breakdown. 

Jungkook almost rose to his feet on instinct, ready to greet him with a polite bow, but luckily he caught himself before the situation ended less than favorable. Instead, he kept himself busy before finally meeting Director Lee’s eyes. 

“Director Lee! I’m sorry for the wait.” Jungkook tried to smile as the man himself came over, bowing quickly before taking a seat on one of the chairs in front of his desk. 

Great. That likely meant this wouldn’t take only two seconds. Jungkook just hoped that wasn’t the case, nor did he notice the lack of greeting.

“I’m sorry to bother you when you’re busy, but there were just a few questions I had from marketing for you.” Director Lee smiled, and Jungkook let out a sigh of relief knowing this was actually about work. 

You were somewhat listening. You picked up on a few things you’d hear marketing discuss in the meetings you attended, but most of it went over your head. You honestly had hoped that this was only going to be a few questions, but you were always wrong. 

At some point, Jungkook briefly mentioned wanting to travel. They had been discussing something about the EU branch located in Germany, leading to Director Lee talking about the time he took his family there when he was on a business trip. Jungkook had quickly mentioned his desire to travel more, and then suddenly he was being handed Director Lee’s phone to look through all the pictures of the Lee family during their trips to all these faraway places. 

Although Jungkook did a good job at remaining calm in front of Director Lee, you could see the way his leg bounced restlessly as he listened to the director talk about the time his family went to Budapest from your position underneath the desk. You wanted to calm him down a little and without thinking too deeply, you placed a reassuring hand on his thigh, gently running your hand along it, letting him know you were still here. 

You hadn’t been paying too much attention to their conversation. After all, it wasn’t meant to be one you were a part of, and you tried your best to give them a little privacy. But right in that moment, you noticed the way Jungkook stopped talking momentarily about business trips as your hand trailed up his leg, before slowly dragging back into the conversation. 

Oh. You liked that a little too much.

Your reassurance was only meant to be quick, a very brief reminder that you were here, but you kept going, your hand going up further, up his thigh to where his open zipper laid. For a brief moment, you considered stopping. Director Lee was right there, but as you started pulling your hand away, suddenly another was wrapped around your wrist stopping your movements. 

It took a moment to realize it was Jungkook. You stared for a while, his tight grip fleeting as he lightly placed your hand back on his thigh, all while he continued on with Director Lee. It was just enough to give you the confidence to go further. Luckily Jungkook made it easy for you.

You were a little too eager slipping into his pants, pulling him out ever so gently, and feeling him in your grasp again. Jungkook immediately had his hand around your wrist the minute your fingers brushed against him. 

It was a warning, a fleeting one, one you could tell even he wasn’t sure about. For a moment you were sure his hand was trying to pull you closer. 

You had some common sense— you had no intention of getting him so riled up that Director Lee would walk around the desk to see you cramped underneath Jungkook’s desk playing with his cock. As much as you’d love to watch him squirm while he tried his best to remain composed, you also wanted to walk out of here with a job. You knew your limits.

You were subtle at first, You watched and listened intently as your thumb lightly traced over the tip. You got another instant reaction, his hand quickly tightening around your wrist, and you heard his voice waver slightly. 

Your efforts were slow and controlled. You didn’t want him to scream, but you did want him to feel it. Slow light touches grazed up his skin, so delicate, as you made sure he’d never forget you were here. It was nice, as he returned faint squeezes around your wrist. 

“You and your wife should come with us one day!” Director Lee bellowed out with a hearty laugh after Jungkook faintly wished he could have been there for that experience. The conversation had moved to Alaska and the Northern Lights now… you had no idea how they got on that topic. You were startled slightly by the sudden outburst. Your hand slipped and suddenly his fingers were laced in your hair and underneath the laughter, your ears instantly locked onto a subtle moan. 

Jungkook was quick to cover it with a cough that Director Lee seemingly didn’t notice. At this point, you feared you had gone a little too far accidently. You were going to call it quits until Director Lee left, but as your grip loosened, suddenly his hand was on your wrist again stopping you in your tracks. 

He didn’t want you to stop, and you wanted to please him. 

You pushed past your hesitation, instead deciding to get even more bold. You leaned forward enough to the point you were face to face with his weeping cock once again. You took it in your hand and lightly ran your tongue along the tip. You were instantly rewarded with his hand lacing into your hair, and you wished you could have seen his face. 

You listened to the way his breathing grew heavier with each swipe of your tongue. You also noticed the subtle way he’d try to keep your head down longer any time you came up. As wrong as it might be, it was hot, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, so was he. 

He was painfully hot, so hot you once again found yourself wondering how you didn’t notice sooner. You honestly probably didn’t want to, your hatred blinding you from both his suffering and anguish as well as his… nice composition. That wasn’t entirely true… you knew that he was conventionally attractive, maybe a little more so than most, but looks meant nothing when he was being petty to you. Now that you were exposed to the cracks in his façade, you could push past your turbulent history and acknowledge the fact you understood the stares he received when he’d walk around the office and the swooning no matter his questionable leadership. You got it more than anyone now that you’d gotten a glimpse behind his sad gaze. 

Unfortunately, you understood it too much. Watching him try not to fall apart in front of the director made the ache between your legs apparent, and you wanted nothing more than to take him right there in his office. But this wasn’t about you; it was about him. You wanted that sad look behind his eyes to disappear, even just for a second. But later tonight you just might need to revisit an old friend you kept in your bottom drawer. A reunion was more than necessary at this point.

Curse him.

•────•──────────•────•

Jungkook should have stopped you, he knew that. This was embarrassing, the highest level of inappropriate he could have achieved, but he felt like he’d reached such a breaking point that he simply didn’t care. All he could think about was the orgasm that he was on the verge of having before you were interrupted. The minute you had your hand on him he never wanted it to leave. 

At this point, he was this close to screaming at Director Lee to leave. But he rambled on and on about all the excursions he took his family on whenever he got some time off. Jungkook tried his best to smile and nod along whenever he made eye contact, but the minute you had your tongue running along him, he could barely keep it together. 

Jungkook wondered how Director Lee hadn’t noticed. He wasn’t doing a good job hiding that something was up. Jungkook was struggling to keep his eyes open as your lips wrapped around him with the subtle flicks of your hand. At this point, Director Lee probably thought he had some type of cold by how much he had to cough to stop himself from moaning out for you to make him cum. 

He felt delirious, like he was looking over the precipice of a high-rise and the world around him started to spin as he tried to make out the ground down below. He was so close. So close to finally getting the release he’d been craving for days. So close, but of fucking course Director Lee just had to come into his office now.

“I’m sure Ms. Han would love Barcelona!” For some reason, Director Lee had already started planning out a trip that Yuri and him were meant to join with his family. Jungkook practically had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying that the last thing he wanted to think about was Yuri when he had you underneath his desk pleasing him so well. He didn’t want to think of anything; no work, no business, he just wanted to cum… why was that so hard?!

“I’m sure she—she—she… would.” Your tongue had licked right over the slit and he was horrible at pretending he wasn’t on the verge of losing it. You felt so good.

Your efforts weren’t enough to get him to cum yet, something he felt was intentional. But the longer he had to stare at Director Lee’s face, the more he was starting to care less and less about the world around him. He just wanted—

Please.

“It’s honestly beautiful— I went there when I was fifteen. It was a high school trip I’m pretty sure, and—” Blah blah blah, if he wasn’t out of his face in the next two minutes…

He didn’t want to hear about this trip. Spending any time with Director Lee outside of a work context felt like a nightmare. Jungkook knew that he’d probably end up spending less time with Yuri than Director Lee, talking his head off about some random thing he’s convinced they have in common. It maybe wouldn’t be so bad if Jungkook didn’t know his type as well as he did. It was all an attempt at trying to fast-track a promotion. Director Lee probably didn’t care about him at all, or the things they had in common, and would actually hate for Yuri and him to be there on his family trip. This conversation was pointless.

“And we’d have to go hiking across the… sights are so beautiful… the pictures I took were—”

“O-oohhh-oh…” It was a quiet, hushed moan and Jungkook quickly had to blink away the tears that had started to settle in his eyes at the strain of keeping it together. You had finally taken the whole tip and Jungkook was just getting worse and worse at covering up his moans. The cough that followed was a little slow, and he probably sounded in as much pain as he felt.

He wanted to see you, wanted to touch you.

“Head Director Jeon, are you ok?” Director Lee feigned concerned. He always insisted on calling him his full title instead of the more casual “Director Jeon” that everyone else used and he preferred. He would even choose the awkward “Mr. Jeon,” despite it making him feel weird since he was younger than the majority of the staff he worked with, over the full title. He hated people using it for no other reason than it always just felt like just an attempt to get in his good graces.

“Fine— just…” deep breaths… “The cold’s started to get to me slightly…” Jungkook tried to laugh, but his eyes were getting watery. He probably looked like a mess. He wanted you to make him into an even bigger one than he already was. 

“Oh! If you’re sick, I know a great tea recipe that would—” Jungkook couldn’t pay attention any longer than two seconds. He couldn’t stop imagining what might happen the minute Director Lee left, what you might do, and the blissful release afterward. He just wanted you, please, please, please…

He couldn’t do this anymore.

“— Director Lee, I’m sorry to interrupt, but—” it hurts so much “but I’m pretty busy today…” Jungkook tried to be nice, but he really was worried what he might do if Director Lee wasn’t out the door in the next five seconds.

Director Lee looked shocked for a second. He wasn’t expecting that. Usually Jungkook would always put up with his bullshit even though he despised the mooching, but today any longer and Jungkook would seriously cause a scene. 

Jungkook attempted to put on the best, most apologetic smile he could muster as the Director processed his words. 

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry. Your secretary mentioned you were busy before I came in.” Jungkook nearly jumped for joy when Director Lee finally got up from the chair in front of him. 

Director Lee bowed politely and Jungkook once again had to resist the urge to get up and bear him a respectful farewell, but that was out of the question right now. Instead, Jungkook bowed his head slightly, hoping the director wouldn’t think too much of it.

“I’ll be in contact about how things go at the US branch,” Director Lee mentioned and Jungkook had nearly forgotten that he had first come in with an actual reason. Aside from discussing some things about marketing, Director Lee had wanted to go over some information before he left for the US branch tomorrow, and that’s how they ended up talking about travel. It was then when Director Lee mentioned how his family just came back from London and he was flying out again.

Jungkook only nodded, nervous that if he spoke at this point the only thing that would come out was an embarrassing plea for you to make him cum. But to his delight, Jungkook watched Director Lee make his way to the door. You must have heard him leaving because the minute the sounds of his footsteps echoed off the marble floors, you quickly kicked it up five notches, finally putting Jungkook out of his misery and taking him down your throat again. 

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered closed as he took it all in. Your mouth brought so many new sensations, he was having trouble keeping up. It felt good, and deep down he selfishly relished in it all. 

“Have a good day, Head Director Jeon.” Director Lee bowed and Jungkook wanted to scream at him to leave, but instead he sent another pained smile and a slight wave his way. 

When he heard the door close, Jungkook let his head fall to his desk. Silent besides the now obvious sounds of you shifting underneath the desk. It hurt so much, he just wanted to—

“Please, please, please make me cum!” A hushed sob escaped as the tears finally spilled from his eyes. He was shameless and his ears felt hot with embarrassment, but for a moment he didn’t care, he just wanted to cum. 

He felt you gently tap his leg and he finally remembered that you were cramped down there. He quickly rolled his chair back, giving you the opportunity to climb out from under the desk. He watched with hungry eyes as you stretched your tense limbs. Even fully clothed, just watching your body move under your blouse was more than enough to make him lose his mind. 

Get it together, Jeon. But he couldn’t, he wanted you so badly— his watery eyes stared as you moved back into a comfortable position between his legs. 

“Please— please— I’m so close.” He cried. 

You looked at him with those kind eyes and gave him a warm smile that tingled more than just his heart. 

“I got you, just let go when you’re ready.” You didn’t even give him a chance to answer before you took him in completely. Jungkook couldn’t stop the moan that fell his lips at the warmth and wetness your mouth provided. It was amazing, you were amazing, you always were. Your pace was quick this time, sensing his urgency. It was probably only a few seconds before that growing feeling returned, this time with no plans of stopping. 

“C-close!” Jungkook hurried out, but he feared you couldn’t understand him with how mangled it came out.

Jungkook let one hand tangle in your hair, needing to grab ahold of something, while the other came over his mouth to stop himself from screaming. For a second, he worried if he was doing this right, was he embarrassing himself right now? Did you hate him? Did you resent him for pulling you into this? This was all so new, he didn’t want to mess things up, but he couldn’t think clearly and hardly had the capacity to care right now.

Jungkook finally found the strength to look down, the sight of you taking him so well caused sparks to run through his body, making it impossible to delay the inevitable.

“Your mouth!” It came out a little louder than he wanted it to, but it was meant to be a warning. He was close, and if you didn’t move away soon then… He thought you’d move off of him, maybe finish him off by hand, but instead you sped up your pace despite his warning. For a second, Yuri flashed in his head, and the sheer utter fear of disappointing you like he’d done to her so many times came crashing down like a wave in a storm. 

As he sped toward the edge, he tried his best to delay it until you could get off of him. Yuri would hate the mess and he feared your reaction— no, he had to last just a little longer—

“Y/n, I’m serious, I’m—” His efforts were fruitless. The tears in his eyes finally spilled over; the pleasure and the guilt grew overwhelming. His body was on fire, and the sheer relief of having you this close made the end come all too quickly.

Jungkook kept his hand clamped over his mouth, but his attempt was futile as moans still slipped from his lips. They were muffled, nonsensical, and sounded as pained as he felt, the blinding hot release spreading throughout his entire body and ultimately into your mouth. Tears ran down his cheeks, his grip in your hair growing tighter as you steadily worked him through his orgasm.

“Fu—oh—go—fuck.” There weren’t words to describe how good he felt.

He could feel his release paint your mouth, a horrible mix of shame and something else he didn’t want to admit bubbling in the depths of his mind. His whole body shook, even after what felt like an endless stream of his release filled your mouth. Wave after wave of tears just kept coming because finally… fucking finally.

He momentarily forgot where you both were and who he was. It just felt so good to forget. It was the freedom he craved when he was alone sometimes. But this was wrong, he knew it was.

As the wave started to die down, instead of a graceful landing, he practically crashed with how quickly new tears started spilling from his eyes. His muffled moans turned into sobs and he couldn’t bear to look down at you. He didn’t want to see your disappointment. You were already so kind, and he just had to go and ruin it because he couldn’t wait until you had moved off of him. 

“Jungkook, you ok?” Your voice was laced with concern as he felt your hand running along his thigh.

“I’m sorry!” Jungkook just sobbed. His face was wet, and his hair was soaked with tears and sweat. He knew he looked like a mess.

There was a moment of silence while you tried to rack your brain for what he was talking about. “Why are you sorry?” You were so gentle, hating how upset he seemed. 

“I tried to— I tried to wait— I’m so sorry!” He choked out, trying to be quiet as Secretary Yu was right outside, but the shame that crept over his body made it hard to stay in control.

You looked notably shocked.

“I told you that you could cum whenever you were ready,” you chuckled, rubbing his leg gently. 

“That’s not— your mouth… I came inside— I’m sorry.” Jungkook finally looked down and you could see just how distraught he seemed, the wetness around his eyes more than heartbreaking. Finding a little strength, you finally rose to your feet. Your knees were achy, but you persevered so you could face him a little better. 

You took the initiative and brought your finger up to his chin so he’d look at you. His eyes were shiny, red, and filled with a sadness you couldn’t quite comprehend. This wasn’t how this was meant to end.

“You don’t need to apologize for something I wanted.” You gently rubbed your thumb along his wet cheek. Your cheeks burned from the confession, but you were glad you said it when you saw the tension fall from his soft features. 

“H-huh?” 

“Maybe I should have asked, but I thought it was best to avoid any mess.” Might he have preferred it more if he painted your face? The image in your mind made your face even hotter, not exactly against the idea if you didn’t have to worry about walking out in front of your coworkers.

“I thought I messed up already… made you disappointed, that you— you’d hate me too.” Just the word hate made his eyes watery all over again. He’d heard it too many times from Yuri, and he was sure it wouldn’t be long before he heard it from you too.

It was then you realized what he was referring to, that he thought somehow cumming in your mouth was a mistake he made? It was crazy and reaffirmed that Jungkook was telling the truth when he said it was his first time having someone go down on him. But that was the least of your worries, instead, the harsh words he’d expected as retribution stood out to you more than anything. The truth of the reasoning behind his sad eyes, why his dimpled smile never appeared anymore, and the sense of what might be happening behind closed doors grew more terrifying the more he spoke to you. 

“Just wanted you to feel good— I can’t hate you for that.” You smiled, and you were a little shocked when you suddenly felt his hands on your waist pull you closer.

“Did it feel good?” You giggled at the affection, but your face was burning. This isn’t what you expected from him. 

Instead of answering, Jungkook tugged you down onto his lap and wrapped his arms around your frame, pulling you into a tight embrace. 

“Thank you…” He shakily sighed. You couldn’t truly understand the relief you brought him. It was his gratitude for everything— for being here with him, for putting up with his pathetic desperation, for making the thoughts that clouded his mind dissipate for only a second, and the list could go on really. You seriously were as amazing as he imagined. 

“I didn’t know… it just— it felt so good, thank you… thank you.” He sweetly mumbled into your blouse. You would have never pictured Jungkook as the affectionate type, and your body and mind were struggling to keep up. You tried your best to ignore the way your heart was nearly beating out of your chest, instead choosing to just be there for him. If this is what he wanted, you’d happily oblige, doing whatever it took to make him feel better— to fix him. 

“No need to thank me— if anything, thank you.” You laughed. You were just as guilty as Jungkook. All you could think about since Tuesday was Jungkook’s body pressed against yours in a heat of emotion. You thought giving him the cold shoulder would be enough to forget it all, but you were so easily pulled back in. You hated it, right now you wanted to avoid the consequences, but you couldn’t stop the growing warmth spreading through your body seeing him feel a little better. 

You expected him to laugh along with you, but Jungkook’s gaze just held onto yours before his eyes started traveling down to where your bodies met. You were a little confused at first, but once his eyes met yours again, you realized you knew that look all too well. 

Oh?

You watched with curious eyes as he started leaning in, curious what he might do considering how timid he was earlier. Maybe it was because he was still riding the high you gave him only minutes ago, but this time he easily pulled you in to meet his lips. 

He was so gentle, he always was. You quickly realized you liked the way his kisses felt, the way he held you close. You didn’t hate it; you couldn’t hate this at all. The soft moment was over quickly though, as his hands started running along your body, instantly making the simmering flame reignite inside you. Your hands quickly found a place running through his long, damp hair, pulling him closer because the last thing you wanted right now was to be away from him. 

All of a sudden, Jungkook wrapped his hands around you and hoisted you up onto the desk. He was standing between your legs, much like the position you found yourselves in a few days ago. Then his lips were on your neck, light, but more than enough for a soft moan to leave your lips before you could stop yourself. Your body was hot, and the urge to pull him closer was growing painful at this point.

“I want to make you feel good too,” Jungkook softly whispered against your skin. Dangerous, the words were so dangerous, and you wondered if he noticed the way your legs wrapped around his waist tighter, wanting to make that very wish come true.

“You’ve been so good to me— it feels so unfair, like I'm being too selfish. You’ve made me feel so good, you should too.” This is certainly not what you were expecting out of this interaction. You had imagined that since Jungkook was cheating on his wife with you, this was all going to be about the indulgence he couldn’t get from his wife.  You were just the method he’d use to get himself off. It’s not like you entirely hated the idea of him using you for relief, you were here to help him after all, though anytime you’d think about it as an affair it made you sick. But you never thought there was anything in it for you. 

Jungkook’s warm hands sliding up your thigh took you out of your thoughts, steadily pushing up your skirt in the process. When he held you like this, it was easy to forget where you were. 

You placed your hand on his, stopping him from pushing it any further. You noticed his eyes glance down, and suddenly panic spread across his features as he quickly grew noticeably flustered.

“Oh— was I being too pushy? I’m sor—” You quickly shushed him, not wanting him to overthink it.

“It’s just— we’re still in your office in the middle of a work day,” you pointed out. It was easy to forget that in the heat of emotions. Plus, Jungkook had the blinds closed, the lamp on his desk the only lighting for the room. But the glimmer of sunshine slipping in from underneath the blinds was the sole indication that it was, in fact, the middle of the afternoon on a perfect, cloudless, sunny day.

Jungkook looked over at the windows as well, and you noticed the way his face flushed. It seemed he had forgotten as well. 

“Ohhhh, right.” Jungkook shyly mumbled, clearly a little disappointed. “I’m sor—”

“Don’t apologize. I honestly want to take you up on the offer— just not here where someone might walk in again.” At the mere mention of Jungkook touching you, your body remembered how his fingers felt inside you that night. Despite his clear lack of experience being on the receiving end of pleasure, Jungkook somehow knew how to touch you in a way that made you see stars. 

Jungkook pulled you a little closer. “I know a place— uh, only if you’re interested.” He quickly added, always so polite. 

You gave him a look that told him to keep going. 

“It’s a storage closet for most of the cleaning supplies and sometimes additional things for the office. Only the janitors use the room, but they hardly go in there since it’s not really a janitor's closet. They mainly use it for restocks of their supplies. Plus, no one can come in without the required access,” Jungkook explained, and it sounded perfectly like what you needed. 

“I’m assuming that means you have access then?” You looked down at the lanyard he had sitting on his desk. 

“I’m the only one aside from the janitors.” He shyly smiled.

You thought about it for a second before hopping off the desk. “Alright then, sounds like a plan. I have a meeting to get to and some work to do— but are you free at four?” You asked, trying your best to smooth down your hair and clothes.

Jungkook moved out of the way slightly, and from the corner of your eye, you could feel his gaze scanning over your body. You couldn’t stop the smirk spreading across your face.

“Uhhhh…” For a second, you wondered if waiting until four was too big of an ask. 

“I can wait— yeah— four’s ok.” There was a shakiness to his words that made it seem like he didn’t entirely believe himself. He really was too cute.

You focused on trying to get yourself back to normal, working on your hair with only your hands as best you could. Jungkook helped you get the smeared lipstick off your face, and you helped him with a similar problem along with taming his hair and fixing his shirt so it didn’t look like you’d been tugging on it for the last half hour. 

In the end, you were able to get yourself to look somewhat decent. You realized way too late that Jungkook had a mirror in his office and you were able to address the details that he might not have seen. Jungkook looked good too. Well, he always did, but maybe you might say he looked even better than when you first walked in?

He had this cute, dopey grin on his face, and the way you had messed up his hair made the soft curls cascade around his face in a way that made him look incredibly ethereal. He had what some might call a ‘glow,’ and it didn’t take much speculation to figure out what it might have been from.

A swell of pride filled your chest, along with a bit of relief knowing you were able to make him feel better, even if only for a short amount of time. 

Your goodbye was brief. You knew your coworkers, Taehyung and Solmi especially, would be looking for you by now.

“See you at four,” you mentioned as you took one last look in the mirror. Jungkook had told you where the closet was, and he was sitting on his desk looking at you while you finished getting ready.

“Mhmmm” He lulled. “Can’t wait~” It was a shy admission that made this cute, boyish grin appear on his face.

You had to get out of here.

“Alright then, don't forget to eat lunch!” By the look on his face at your words, you knew he probably hadn’t even thought about it. 

“Don’t forget… you’re on your lunch break after all.” You reaffirmed, knowing there was a chance he’d still forget even after your reminder. 

“I won’t… see you later.” That same dopey smile appeared on his face and you had to physically tear yourself away so you could finally leave. Curse him and that face of his.

You were finally able to leave. You hastily sped past Secretary Yu, and in the corner of your eye, you caught her confusion at your sudden departure. You could only hope she hadn’t heard anything. You don’t know how long she was there…

•────•──────────•────•

Maybe you should have just taken Jungkook up on his offer to take you right there on his desk again. You had underestimated your own ability to wait. Jungkook had riled you up too much. Watching him lose himself from your mouth, with his eager need to reciprocate, made you excited. 

You hated it. You hated this. Just like that night, you had left his office feeling good, but once you made it back to your desk, those feelings of guilt and shame came back all over again. You had to remind yourself a couple of times that this was a married man you were messing with. He had a wife, and you were jeopardizing any chance of their relationship ever improving. The thought of being a homewrecker, the other woman, made your skin crawl. You hated it.

This was wrong, and that was all you should be feeling as the weight of your actions started to sink in. You hated it even more because you were excited, painfully so, as you watched the time tick down.

Jungkook certainly didn’t help either. It seemed his eyes were on you any chance they’d get. The strange thing was you saw more of him today than you usually do. Jungkook liked to spend his days holed up in his office, aside from the meetings he was required to attend and oversee, but today things were different. 

Jungkook was everywhere you turned, that same dopey look still on his face, and he always seemed to be staring at you. You wanted to scream at him because he couldn’t make it any more obvious, but you couldn’t because you liked his hungry gaze. It just fueled your thoughts about what might happen at four.

You were uncomfortably hot despite the freezing temperature outside. You were angry, you were way too horny, and as much as you should have been running away when the time finally struck four, you couldn’t have been happier. 

Jungkook had texted you about an hour ago (you both had quickly exchanged numbers right before you left) that he was going to go about five minutes or so early to let you in and asked for you to wait a little while just in case anyone saw anything. Just like a few hours prior, you walked through the halls looking over your shoulder, closely analyzing to make sure no one was following or even seeing you in the hallway. It was more stressful than it should have been, but eventually, you made it to where Jungkook had instructed. 

Storage Closet. Okay, this was it.

*Knock knock,* you paused for a second, and then followed it up with an additional two knocks. It had also been his idea to add a special, secret password just in case. You thought it was a little much, but he looked so cute while he came up with the code, so you let him have his fun. 

It took a second, and you were a little scared that for some reason this wasn’t the right door, or that maybe Jungkook might not be there yet and you came too early. But right as your anxiety soared through the roof, a small crack opened in the doorway. 

Lo and behold, peaking right through the door were the big, round, bewildered eyes of the man you were hoping for. You let out a sigh of relief as he opened the door further, revealing that it was just him in here like he promised. You looked around once more before going inside. 

Jungkook had kept the lights off, but as he shut the door behind you, he finally turned on the dim light and you were able to see the space a little better. It was pretty much exactly what you expected. There were mainly shelves lined with cleaning supplies and the occasional surplus of office supplies, like a huge stack of printer paper that you quickly made note of to ask Jungkook about later because you were always running out in the copy room. Besides that, there were a couple of tables you were confused what they were for, but some lined the space where the shelves ended, and there was also one that sat right in the center of the room. The room wasn’t that big, smaller than Jungkook’s office, but not by much. It definitely wasn’t cramped, and you let out a sigh of relief knowing it wasn’t grimy like you had feared. Instead, it matched the rest of the modern sleekness of the office outside. It really was perfect. 

You finally turned around to face Jungkook. He hadn’t said anything yet, but with the telling look in his eyes, he didn’t need to. You had only just noticed that Jungkook had gotten rid of his suit jacket, now just adorning his white button-up carefully tucked into his blue slacks with the sleeves rolled up. It all came together with a black belt with a shiny, gold buckle that glinted in the low light. You could only imagine how much it cost knowing the type of money he had. He looked good, too good. It’s like he had a long day at work, casting aside his jacket for a little more breathing room, and was now standing right in front of you. He looked casual, but classy in a way that made you squeeze your thighs together because, wow. With this look, you could even catch a glimpse of the tattoos that you had seen the other day. It was too much. You were too weak, and you just needed this man now. 

“Sooooo…” you began, the silence starting to grow a little awkward.  

Jungkook honestly didn’t know what to say. He was too busy drinking you in. The minute you left his office, he instantly regretted not asking if you had time to slip away to the storage room a little sooner. He was riding a high he didn’t know how to come down from. You had blown his mind. Sex had never felt that good, and you taking the initiative had been something he struggled to comprehend all day. It just made him even more eager to please you. You had been so nice, nicer than what he deserved, and he just wanted to make you feel even a sliver of what you gave him. He highly doubted it could compare, but anything to show you how grateful he was to have you here with him. 

Jungkook had struggled to keep it together since the moment you left. His eyes found you easily as he was pulled out of his office far more often than usual. It was nice to see you, but it just made this moment that much harder to wait for. Now that you were in front of him…

Jungkook barely noticed you had spoken. Instead, his gaze fixated on your long legs, your sheer black stockings coming up all the way to meet your short, black pencil skirt. Your outfit was completed nicely with a red blouse and pointed stilettos, making you even more alluring. You had also done a bit more fixing up since you left his office. Your red lipstick was back to perfection and your hair was neatly styled back the way it was when you initially walked into his office.

He didn’t have the confidence to say it earlier, and he was honestly a little ashamed that it was even a thought in his head, but he liked the way you looked after he was done with you. Something about ruining your neatness made his length ache in a way he didn’t quite understand. It was embarrassing, and he knew he should be ashamed, but for some reason today, he just didn’t know how to act. 

Jungkook’s feet acted faster than his mouth could. He was never the best with words anyway. Slowly, he approached you, and instinctively you moved back until your legs hit one of the tables that lined the walls. Jungkook was quick to close the gap, pulling you into another tight embrace that made it so easy to bury into your warmth. For a second he just took it in, loving how you felt in his arms, and you smelled so good too.

“Fuck.” He lightly moaned into your shirt, embarrassed at how easy it was to rile him up. It didn’t take much from Yuri, nor did it take a lot from you either. Maybe he was easy. Yuri has mentioned before how easy he was to please. Jungkook never knew exactly what that meant. He was just trying to be a good husband. It felt wrong to demand anything more than what Yuri offered… but maybe she was right.

However, he didn’t want to think about that now. You made it so easy to forget about his marriage when normally the only thing he could focus on was how much of a failure he was, how he was making Yuri miserable, and how he could make her happy only if he was a little better. Instead, it felt like the rest of the world melted away anytime he was in your presence. It might sound horrible, but he enjoyed the silence for once. 

“Jungkook?” You finally questioned after he held onto you a little too long.

“Oh right, I’m sorry.” His face burned, worried you might think he was weird. He separated from you and went back over towards the door, where he held up his hand to the light switch.

“Not a lot of people come down this hallway. No one should bother us, but just in case, it might be better to keep the lights off so no one suspects we’re in here,” Jungkook added. It was both a legitimate reason and also an excuse to turn the lights off again. The lights were dim, but not dim enough, and the thought of you seeing him, disappointing you like he had done to Yuri so many times… he couldn’t do that. It would be easier this way.

“Oh? Smart thinking, sir.” 

Jungkook quickly flipped the lights off, the only light now coming in was from underneath the door. Both of you could hardly see each other, but Jungkook was used to the dark. His eyes adjusted quickly to see a vague outline of your form standing by the desk.

“Mmmmm… What did I say about being so formal with me?” His tone was low, teasing almost, and when his hand grazed your arm, you practically jumped in surprise. It made you shiver when you realized he was so close.

“No Sir, no Mr. Jeon, no Director Jeon, no Head Director Jeon. It’s just Jungkook when we’re alone like this,” Jungkook mumbled slowly. He hated it, especially from you. It felt weird anytime anyone was formal with him, but he especially couldn’t stand the honorifics when you were both literally the same age. It felt wrong and fake, and that’s not what he wanted to be like with you.

“I got you. I’m sorry, Jungkook.” You made sure to emphasize his name since apparently he liked hearing it.

He did. He really did for some reason. Taking him out of the moment slightly, he had to stop himself from giggling at you trying to make him out in the dark, your squinting all too adorable. It made the horrible need to have you consume him in seconds.

Jungkook had his arms around you again, this time to lift you onto the table. He was gentle, like he always was, and he kept in close proximity. Having you this close again made his brain all fuzzy. Jungkook moved even closer and pulled you back into his arms. 

“I missed you…” he sighed, an embarrassing confession but one that was true nonetheless. He couldn’t stop thinking about you since you’d left, and it felt so good to have you here.

You didn’t want to admit it either, but it felt so good to have him here as well. You sighed in relief as you pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

It was a moment of softness that neither of you were really prepared for. It was nice though; you couldn’t deny it. He gave great hugs, so warm and inviting. There was an unexpected sweet smell in the air around him. You could tell his cologne was expensive, it was soft and delicate, just like the wine he gifted you on Tuesday. You felt like you could get drunk from his very presence, and that just made the ache even worse.

“Jungkook, please—” you rushed out, and he was quick to respond. Jungkook pulled you close, finally closing the agonizing distance between you two. You both had run out of patience to be soft and you were too needy to take it slow, instead going straight in with hurried and desperate kisses.

Your lips chased after each other. Any moment apart felt like an eternity, and when his hands came up and gently tugged on your blouse, the room grew hot quickly. You both knew at the end of the day, as much as you wanted to savor this moment, you were still in the middle of the workday. This had to be quick. 

Jungkook let his hand roam down your sides, touching and squeezing anything he could grab. Your blouse came first. He anxiously toyed with the few buttons it had and you both made quick work of undoing them until you could feel the chill air of the storage room on your chest. It made you remember what you had on underneath, and you cursed to yourself slightly when you realized it wasn’t anything cute, just a regular, plain black bra. But you found some relief in the fact that it was dark in here. You could still barely see Jungkook even after a few minutes had passed. However, Jungkook must have superhuman eyes because you felt him pull back for a second, and you thought you could see him staring because of the faint outline cast onto him from the light underneath the door. 

And he was staring. How could he not? You took his breath away every time he saw you. You were too kind for doing this, and deep down he knew that it was likely because of how pitiful he looked. It was probably the only reason any of this was happening. You gave him the same look that everyone else did. Dr. Min, Jimin, Dae-Jung… he’d seen it too many times. He hated it. He hated the pity. They just didn’t understand, you didn’t either apparently, that he deserved everything he got. 

To try and rid himself of his darkening thoughts, he quickly kissed you once again as his hand trailed up your thigh to push your short skirt up. It pleased him more than anything when he felt your soft skin, letting him know you were wearing thigh-highs once again.

Jungkook groaned into the kiss, a burning desire returning all too quickly. No, no— this was about you. As much as he might want to have you, he was being too greedy. Even though Yuri wasn’t here, he could hear her words filled with disappointment at him for being so selfish. You already fucked him a few days ago, and despite his pathetic begging, you gave him his first blowjob. It had been all about him so far, and you’d given more than he ever deserved. If he could only stop thinking with his dick for five seconds, maybe he could make you feel even a quarter of what you gave him—

Tears pricked his eyes with just the feeling of having you so close as your hands ran over his shirt—

“Wanna make you feel good…” Jungkook said, far too shakily. His hand snaked in between your bodies, his eager fingers shocked to meet the wetness of your panties.

“Please, Jungkook, please,” you cried out as quietly as you could. You couldn’t take it anymore. He quickly learned he wasn’t like Yuri; begging worked far too well on him. 

Jungkook stepped out from between your legs to give himself a little more room. But right before you could complain at the distance, Jungkook put a reassuring grip on your waist and his other hand traced the expanse of your covered thighs ever so lightly. Your breath was shaky the closer he grew to where you wanted— no, needed him, as his fingers lightly ran over your stockings, your body going into overdrive anytime he’d inch a little closer. 

“Fuck—” you whined, enjoying the light teasing, but you wanted more. You had no idea what he was doing, but every touch felt so sensitive. He finally pushed past your skirt and played with the hem of your stockings, pulling them back and letting them snap lightly back into place. 

You both moaned. 

“You’re so hot, I—” Jungkook groaned, but didn’t finish what he was going to say because something about that seemed to have set him off. He buried his face in your neck, quickly planting desperate kisses along your skin as his hand finally made their way to your panties once more, rubbing the soaked fabric. 

The way you practically yelped when you felt his fingers running over your slit was a little embarrassing. The way he made you feel didn’t make any sense. Jungkook knew just the way to touch you that had you practically bucking into his hand as he finally settled his fingers on your clit. Despite his lack of experience in other subjects, Jungkook certainly knew how to touch the little bud the right way, though he already proved that to you the last time.

You gripped the table hard as waves of pleasure traversed your whole body, stimulating an eagerness you hadn’t felt in a while. It reminded you of college, being on your own for the first time in your life, and how that freedom came with a need to explore. It was good. You both didn’t know each other’s bodies yet, but you still found ways to make each other feel good and forget about the countless deadlines that loomed over you. 

Jungkook gave you that rush all over again. A youthful rush that you only thought was possible to feel before you hit your second decade. 

He must have noticed your growing frustration because his fingers finally pulled the soaked fabric to the side, and you were able to feel him without any barrier in the way. You were absolutely soaked, embarrassingly so. Over the buzzing of the AC in the background, the squelches of his fingers running through your drenched folds filled the room and made your cheeks burn.

In the dark all your senses were heightened. You felt Jungkook’s body on yours and his soft sighs of pleasure right in your ear as he rubbed himself lightly against your thigh. In the heat of it, you could tell he was holding himself back, how he wanted more but seemed keen on his promise to make you feel good this time. 

Your body grew hotter by the second and the moment his fingers settled on your clit once again, drawing fast, teasing circles, while you struggled not to scream out loud. You quickly had to wrap your hands around his shoulders to stop yourself from crying out for any unlucky coworker who happened to be walking by to hear.

Even though the closet was slightly secluded in a hallway not many usually walked through, it certainly wasn’t far from where they did. You could even hear them in the far distance, the sounds of murmured voices growing louder before fading off, or the hurried clicking of heels through the tiled halls. They would definitely hear if you weren’t quiet.

But Jungkook was making that almost an impossible task by the way he was touching you. And you only wanted more.

“Jungkook!” His name tumbled from your lips far too loudly, your mind a little fuzzy, but you just needed him.

Suddenly, you felt a soft kiss on your cheek and then another one on your neck, a little slower this time in pulling away. 

“Can I taste you?” Jungkook lightly moaned in your ear, so gentle and soft in the way he asked. Tingles spread through your whole body and a whole new wave of arousal soaked his fingers. 

It was criminal how pretty he sounded. 

“Please,” you whined as quietly as you could, tears pricking your eyes. You’d never been so turned on before. The shame at the realization that this was happening at your workplace filled you for a second, but Jungkook pulling his hand away and lightly running over your thigh quickly brought you back. 

You groaned as you watched his faint outline move back between your legs and drop down to his knees. You could see the faint glimmer of his eyes as he bent down, his eager, yet innocent expression a deadly combination in such a compromising position like this one. But his innocence proved to be merely a facade. Jungkook quickly placed your legs over his shoulders, wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold them in place, and tugged you closer to the edge of the table. He was close enough that you could feel his shaky breath against your soaked folds. A shudder ran through your body. Maybe it was good you couldn’t really see him. You already knew you enjoyed the sight of him on his knees too much.

Suddenly, you felt light kisses trailing up your thigh, getting closer and closer to where you wanted him. “Want to make you feel good,” Jungkook softly sighed. “Just want to make someone feel good.” It was quiet, and you only just picked it up before Jungkook buried himself between your thighs.

You were certainly unprepared. Your mind was too fuzzy, all you knew was you needed to feel him. But your assumption about his lack of experience was once again proved to be incorrect.

Jungkook instantly got to work pleasing your body, planting soft kisses along the expanse of your inner thighs, growing closer until you whined when he kissed between your soaked folds. You had to swallow back a moan when you felt his tongue licking run up your slit. He was eager and didn't hold back once he found your clit. You groaned, feeling the tentative patterns he drew around the bud, skilled, knowing exactly what to do to have you seeing stars already.

“Fuck.” You wanted to scream, cry out, do something. The fact you couldn’t, turned you on in a way that confused you, but also frustrated you to no end. 

Your hand raked through his hair, moving him closer and making sure he didn’t pull away anytime soon. You knew you could cum from this if he kept at it long enough. You never knew how much a little foreplay could rile you up, but for some reason you found yourself close to the edge already, even though he’d barely started. 

Jungkook really didn’t need to do too much to affect you, but he was such an eager boy, desperate to please, and he wanted to give you the full experience despite the dwindling time you had before someone would start questioning where you both were. 

Jungkook pulled away slightly and replaced his tongue with enthusiastic fingers, going back to pumping you with two, and tears pricked your eyes when he managed to fit in a third. 

“Oh! Fu-oh,” you cried, and Jungkook couldn’t help but think the sounds you made were the hottest thing he’d ever heard.

Yuri wasn’t loud— Jungkook never knew how to take it, whether that meant he was doing a good job or not or if she was just on the quieter side. The only reason why he didn’t go crazy thinking it must be because he was terrible was because it was the only regular aspect of their sex lives. But with you, he decided he preferred the cute way you tried your best to keep quiet, but occasionally when he’d touch you just right, you’d make these adorable squeaks.

Your hand had found its way into his hair again, and with the way you held him close, you were practically fucking yourself against his tongue. You were a little rough, your grip tight, but he liked the way it stung. Your desperation was affecting him and he just wanted to make you feel good. He liked the way you were using him. It felt good to be used, needed, wanted, even if it was just for a second. 

He was sloppy, not bothering to try and keep things classy. His mouth was practically covered in your arousal, but he loved it. You tasted amazing. Seeing you like this was amazing. Even though it was dark, he could see the way your eyebrows were furrowed by the faint glow coming through the cracks in the door. You were breathtaking. It made the strain in his slacks worsen, seeing you turn into a mess the longer he kept going. He was hardly keeping it together as it was. You probably felt it before he even dropped to his knees. He was hard, but he had to keep it together. This was about you, only you. 

What would Yuri say if she knew how riled up he was getting even after you already gave him so much? She would be disappointed and so would you. He’s been so selfish. He just had to make you feel good—

Jungkook hoped you wouldn’t notice, but he was crying again. One tear fell, then two, then they just wouldn’t stop. 

Jungkook groaned into your pussy, a mix of frustration and delight. You were so good, he had to be good for you too. And that seemed to be what it took to get you to start hurdling off the edge.

“Koo— Jungkook— fuck— fuck— close.” Your feeble attempts at being quiet were all in vain as your desperation grew for sweet release. 

Jungkook was somehow able to make sense of your whimpering and quickly picked up the pace. He hastily switched back to using his mouth and wanted more than anything for you to finish on his tongue. 

He was back with his skilled tongue, and your sensitivity brought you to the edge all too quickly. Jungkook focused on your bundle of nerves again, going from tracing to sucking to the point that you were a writhing mess in his arms. Your thighs tightened around his face, your grip in his hair growing tighter, making him groan out, the pleasure and pain a combination that made the ache somehow even worse. You were shaking in his grasp, your hushed whines growing more incoherent, and oh— he wanted to see you cum. 

He felt like he could cum all over again. Embarrassing.

It wasn’t long after that Jungkook watched with eager eyes as you fell apart on his tongue. Wave after wave of pleasure kept hitting you. Jungkook helped you ride it out, easing up a bit, but staying close. You felt like you were riding on cloud nine, and for a second you even forgot where you were. The little closet disappeared, the company building disappeared, maybe the whole world vanished, leaving your mind in a state of bliss. It was just you and Jungkook and the overwhelming blissful end he gave you.

It took more than a moment for you to recover, your ragged breathing filling the space as you tried to pull yourself together. Jungkook eventually pulled away when you started to whine from the overstimulation.

It had never felt like that before. You could only imagine what type of pleasure he’d bring you under better conditions. This was going to be a problem. This was going to have to end one day, and you couldn’t get too attached.

After some time, Jungkook shakily rose to his feet. His body felt like it was on fire. You had nearly made him cum as he watched you reach your peak, it was too hot seeing you like that. Normally someone who’s always so put together and neat, you looked like a complete mess, and it just reaffirmed his earlier concern that, in fact, he enjoyed seeing you like that.

Horrible, wasn’t it?

Jungkook could hardly look away, his body screaming out to have you. The thought of walking out when he felt like this was unbearable, but this was about you, this needed to be about you. He didn’t want to disapp—

Then all of a sudden, your hands were on his shoulders, pulling him closer in an instant. He was back between your legs, and before he could question it any further, you were pulling him in for a fervent kiss. 

You seemed not to care that he was still covered in your juices and Jungkook had to fight back the urge to buck into you like a wild animal at the thought. Yuri hated when he tried to kiss her afterward, she hated kissing him anyways.

He settled into it, one hand on your waist, the other lightly cupping your cheek. As much as he was trying to control himself, you made it impossible with the way your hands raked over his body, the thread of self-control he tried to maintain for your sake quickly withered away. With each second, he grew closer, to the point you were pressed right against each other. You could certainly feel it now, the way his body pleaded for yours. Jungkook had to quickly pull away, his eyes growing watery all over again. 

“Wait!” He cried. He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to at all. He could see your confusion in the darkness.

“This was about you— I promised— I—” It hurt so badly. He wanted you so badly.

You relaxed at his words. 

“Well, I want you, so—” You started to rationalize, but Jungkook wasn’t having it.

“But—”

Instead of going back and forth and letting this turn into a long discussion, you decided to take action instead. Your hands found their way to his belt and quickly started to undo the strap. His breath was heavy as the buckle jingled when you finally managed to get it undone, and you didn’t give him any time to process before you went for his pants next and reached in to pull him out.

Jungkook groaned into your shoulder, feeling your hand wrap around his length. You lightly ran your hand down to the base and then back up, tracing your thumb along his leaky tip.

“Oh— oh— oh!” You were making it so hard for him. It was cruel. “I’ll wait, I’ll…I’ll…” The words were for himself more than you. He needed to keep himself in line, he had to.

“Mmmm, you certainly don’t feel like you want to wait,” you chuckled breathlessly. It was only meant to be a light tease, but you felt him shaking. His soft sniffles let you know he was actually crying.

“I’m sorry…” he sobbed. He felt like he had disappointed you. His body had betrayed him in a way that made Yuri scream at him anytime he tried to pull her close afterward. He wasn’t in control, he should be better than this, she’d always say. 

“Jungkook, didn't you hear me earlier? I said I wanted you.” Instead of the degradation he was expecting, the softness of your voice as you pulled him a little closer melted him in your grasp. You couldn’t even imagine the things he’d been told that would make him think this way.

You couldn’t really see it, but Jungkook was staring at you wide-eyed. For some reason, he was having issues processing your words. They just didn’t make sense. He had already taken too much, hadn’t he? But the simple thought of you wanting more had him subtly moving his cock within your grip.  

“Do you want to do this?” You asked when you noticed his movement. 

Despite your confession earlier, Jungkook found it hard to admit how much he wanted to fuck you. You took it upon yourself to help him, bringing his tip to your soaked folds and letting it run through your arousal. 

“Fuck— Y/n!” he whined. It instantly got a reaction from him, his need soaring beyond all reason. He couldn’t think straight anymore, and all he could focus on was the thought of finally slipping inside you again, just like he’d been imagining over the last few days.

“Do you want this?” You repeated, still so soft. Not a demand that he had to fulfill, but a genuine question asking if he wanted more from this. 

For a second, he didn’t answer, the sound of his breathing growing more labored as you ran his cock up and down your slick. He couldn’t answer. You felt so good and he was trying his best to get back in control, to not be so weak as Yuri would always say, but you made it so hard. 

He wanted to fuck you, and he probably would have pushed into you right then and there if suddenly he didn’t remember something.

“I— I still don’t have any condoms with me,” Jungkook cried, tears slipping down his cheeks as he fell into your shoulder. Fuck— how was he going to walk away from this?

“We don’t need one— I’m still on the pill, remember?” You pulled him away so you could look him in the eye. “If you’re ok with it, we could continue, but if you’re not comfortable doing that again, that’s completely fine.” You smiled, and there was genuine concern behind your gaze.

Jungkook normally wasn’t the risky type when it came to sex. He barely had sex enough for a habit like that to even be established, but with Yuri he was always so careful. She would never forgive him for even taking the chance of getting her pregnant, and he didn’t want it either. Not when he was like this, clinging to life by only a few short strands. With Yuri, he made sure things were right no matter his desperation, but with you… Once was risky enough, the heat of emotions causing protection to completely slip his mind. He had remembered this time, but after hearing your reassurance, his usual caution was thrown to the wind and all he could care about was feeling you.

In a haste, Jungkook took it upon himself to finally guide his cock into your warmth, moving your hand out of the way while he grabbed his length and finally slipped it into your slick hole. He watched your expression intently as it turned from surprise into bliss, pleasure overtaking your features, and you just looked so pretty. It made his desperation worse as your tight warmth enveloped him. You were so wet; he slipped in so easily, like you needed him just as badly as he needed you. 

Jungkook had to fight back the urge to sob. After so many days of playing your night together over and over in his head, his imagination could never compare to how good you felt in real life. Despite his earlier indulgence, Jungkook had to fight tooth and nail to deter himself from filling you up right away. You had had to deal with that once already, he couldn’t disappoint you— not again. The fact that you were even doing this with him was gracious enough. He couldn’t keep putting you through his failures.

Jungkook tried to slow his breathing down while he waited for you to get adjusted and for himself to calm down enough to move without instantly blowing his load. Even now, you were making it difficult in the way you were squeezing around him, and he already knew he wouldn’t last very long no matter how hard he tried.

You noticed he was tense and planted a few kisses across his cheeks, but Jungkook pushed your face so your lips would finally meet his again, engaging in another passionate kiss that only made you squeeze somehow even tighter around him.

Jungkook broke the kiss and let out something between a groan and a whine. “Fuck— fuck— I—” He wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t just going to cum right then and there. Embarrassing.

“I’m sorry— so sorry.” He cried. “I don’t think I’ll make it very long…” You would probably want nothing to do with him after this.

You went back to kissing his cheeks. “Don’t stress, ok? Fuck me how you want to, don’t hold back for me.” Your warm smile could be seen even in the darkness. You looked like an angel…

Your words set a fire inside him. Fuck me how you want to— you were far too nice for someone as pathetic as he was. But as shameful as it was, he enjoyed your sympathy.

Jungkook didn’t hold back anymore and finally started moving his hips. You both moaned, but quickly realized the volume of your mistake, pulling each other into another kiss instead. You both swallowed each other's cries amidst the sounds of clothes ruffling, and the wet, slick sound of his quickening pace pumping into your heat. The table you were sitting on started to creak with his hurried struggle to properly feel you again.

Jungkook rolled his hips in a way that made your toes curl and had you struggling to keep quiet. He was good, settling into a nice, rhythmic roll after a few desperate thrusts in the beginning. His size filled you up in all the right places, a satisfying stretch that you could more than just grow used to. 

It wasn’t long before you both had turned into a tangled mess of limbs trying to feel each other. Jungkook had buried himself in your shoulder. Kissing you grew impossible. Instead, he cried out as silently as he could into your skin. 

He managed to delay his release for longer than he had expected, but the rush still came on quicker than he would have liked. 

“Close!” He whined as quietly as he could before picking up the pace. He couldn’t last much longer with the way you were squeezing around him. It was all too much, and before he could even try and hold it back any longer, his hips stilled and he filled you up with everything he could give.

Jungkook quickly pulled you into a kiss as his hand made its way between your bodies, and his fingers hastily found your clit again. He started making hurried motions around the bud until you were clinging onto his shoulders while your next orgasm surged through your body. You both were out of breath as the heat of the moment began to simmer down. It was the first moment he was finally able to think clearly again. There was one half of him that looked at you with the utmost admiration, someone far too kind to be messing with him. He never thought he could get enough of you. Then there was the other half…

The post-bliss clarity made him look at the situation as it truly was. He was cheating. This had truly turned into cheating. He’d betrayed Yuri’s trust, and there was nothing he could ever do to regain it. He didn't deserve to. But as horrible as it was, Jungkook found himself wanting to do it with you all over again, to have you in his arms so the world would melt away and he could just indulge. 

But unfortunately, the other half looked at you with the same shame and disgust he held for himself. All you were now was a reminder of how horrible of a person he’d become, and he couldn’t stand it.  

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[lipstickghoulie]

•Loss of Innocence (Astarion/female Tav smut, praise kink, dirty talk, deflowering)•

💛

Astarion crooning out praise to her for being so good and letting him do this to her, reveling in every whimper that shudders out of her and the rivers of arousal that he is coaxing down her twitching thighs. “Oh, darling, you’re taking me so well,” He purrs out, making sure to pitch his voice just loud enough that it can be heard over the lewd noises of him pumping into her, stretching her open with every scissoring motion or come-hither twirl of those nimble digits. “You’re doing such a wonderful job, pet. Such a good girl for me. Maybe you’ll persuade me that you deserve my cock next if you keep this up, hm?”

She’s pleading for more, murmuring out a breathless “Astarion, please” that makes his dick stiffen even further. Precum is already oozing off of his cock head, sticking to her skin while he looms over her, connecting them more primally than the tadpoles linking their brains ever could. Astarion knows that things are getting vocal enough here, even with his tent flap closed, that the others will be able to overhear and the thought makes a slow, triumphant smirk crease his face.

He may have already implied to the rest of the group that there was more going on between him and their illustrious leader than just near-nightly feedings (even if that hadn’t been exactly true before tonight), dropping the most sly of insinuations that went right over inexperienced Tav’s head and made their companions exchange disappointed glances that he had seemingly claimed her for himself. So what harm was it if they could hear their coupling now? Astarion did plan on keeping such a delectable treat all for himself, especially since she seemed so willing to take direction. What man wouldn’t want a beautiful woman that was eager to be taught to please him, that looked at him with such smitten and dumbstruck eyes at just the smallest amount of attention?

It was good to make it clear that she was owned, that she was to be his prize after the last two hundred years of pain and being a sleepwalking stranger in his own body. Shouldn’t Astarion get something sweet and so, so perfect to play with when the mood struck him after all that he’s had to endure?

Oh, how the mood was striking him now, as he slides his fingers out of her slick, snickering at how she goes wide-eyed and whimpering at how empty the motion leaves her. Astarion muses to himself that next time, he might restrain her and tease her, leave her slack jawed with tears of frustration streaming down those pink cheeks for hours, edge her until she is begging him and promising him anything he could ever want if he just makes her cum. Tonight though, he’ll take pity on her and give her exactly what she wants, what she craves, so that she’ll come back for more and think only of him when she gets squirmy and restless in her bed roll at night.

Astarion squeezes his hand over his weeping dick, eyes going half-lidded, pleased, at how she wiggles impatiently and spreads her legs for him, beckoning him in with every glisten of the light on her sodden folds.

“Don’t worry, little love, I’m going to give you exactly what you deserve,” Astarion coos reassuringly before dipping his cock forward and into her, his hips pushing steadily and carefully into Tav as his hands grasp her thighs to keep them open and-

All practiced control and smoothness leaves his brain like air deflating from a balloon. She’s so tight, so molten hot and soaked, his shaft being smothered by her soaked walls in a way that makes every thought leave his brain other than the desperate and animalistic need to thrust into her. His teeth are gritted even as he pushes slowly past her barrier, hearing her gasp and clutch at his back in a way that still indicated more pleasure than pain, but gods alive, it is taking every ounce of his restraint not to pound her into the dirt and see exactly how much he can loosen her up if Astarion fucks her as hard as his mind is screaming at him to.

“By the hells, you- are - so - fucking- tight,” Astarion groans, peppering every word at the end of that sentence with a snap of his hips, his gaze locked onto where his frenzied cock is shoving into her cunt like he’s hypnotized. “It’s like you were made for me, so fucking perfect, it’s like you were created to take me, to be used by me. And I’ll make you feel it all as long as you keep being such a good girl for me.”

Tav reaches out with an unexpectedly soft, tender hand, nearly making Astarion flinch as her nails trace as gently along his jaw as someone trying not to startle an animal that might bolt or bite at any provocation. There’s something powerfully and unapologetically loving in the way that she looks at him, even as her hymen’s blood streaks up alongside the vein that decorates the curve of his dick. Like any other time, he’s causing her pain or at least a small measure of discomfort and she’s taking it, taking him, in stride and accepting it.

“I’ll be good for you,” she whispers, choking back a moan, and Astarion thinks to himself almost deliriously that she already has been. She’s been good for him and to him in a way that he had never thought that would be afforded to him in this lifetime. If he was a better man, maybe he’d tell her that, but he fears that he’s given her too much power over him already even without giving a voice to these murky, panicked feelings that are starting to take shape in the very center of himself.

Instead, he just snarls and puts those decades upon decades of experience to good use for once, tilting her pelvis slightly up and at an angle so he can hit that spongy spot inside of her walls that causes Tav to keen and her hands to scrabble harder at his shoulder blades like she’s trying to overwrite the scars on his back with ones from her blunt fingernails instead. Part of Astarion hopes that she does; he’d rather have a reminder of her to be etched deeply into him like an epitaph on a gravestone than anything of Cazador’s. Being marked with a souvenir of the first partner he’s truly wanted, that he wishes that he could burrow so deeply inside of that he could make a nest amongst her ribs instead of his scavenged pillows every night, sounds preferable over some shitty poem that he’s never even seen properly on his flesh.

Tav is stuttering out squeaky exclamations of his name and he can feel that already vice grip of her cunt starting to flutter, Astarion biting the inside of his own cheek to stifle a groan at the feeling. A fang draws his own blood and it tastes stale, bitter. He could keep pumping into her at this same rate and she’ll cum on her own within a few minutes, he can feel it like he can tell how many tumblers he’ll need to roll from just briefly handling a lock. But he’s never been a patient man, never been one to wait for something to happen when he can make the dominos fall himself, so he rips one of his hands from her leg and licks the thumb, making sure that she can see the showy way that his tongue coats it in his saliva before bringing it over her clit in mercilessly firm circles.

“Come on, let go for me, beautiful. You want to be good for me? Then cum, right now,” Astarion commands, hating how choppy and raspy his own words sound, how he can barely make himself heard over the slap of his sweat-heavy balls against her and his own labored breathing. He’s going to throw himself into the river near camp and hope that some kind of monster fish eats him if he loses control and cums first but gods, he is straining not to with how pussy drunk that he feels in this moment. Every jab of his cock into her feels like he is dipping it into the snuggest heat he’s ever experienced and it’s enough to make his head spin. He’s taken virgins in the past but it’s never felt like this before, like it’s some sort of celestial gift stolen from deities and not meant for mortal (or undead) men.

Thankfully, Tav goes over the edge into her pleasure just a few moments later, screaming out and trying to muffle it by burying her face into his collarbone and neck. If Astarion thought her cunt felt good before, the feeling of it clamping down now is otherworldly, milking him as thoroughly as someone wringing out a rag. Laughing almost madly at how exquisitely that her little core is squeezing him, the rogue gives her a few more shaky thrusts and unloads stream after stream of his cum into her, his testicles twitching as they empty themselves so thoroughly that he’s certain that she will be dripping with rivulets of his seed for a day or more after this.

Astarion slumps over her, his body a weight upon her as if he’s actually as corpse-like as vampires are rumored to be. He is actually reluctant to pull out just yet, to have this be over and allow her to disengage and get cleaned up. So he lets her stroke her soothing, kind touch over his back and neck, his cock softening in the safety of her satisfied and debauched cunt. Has he ever not wanted to flee immediately after sex? Has he ever felt like he had been that much in the moment during the act itself that he had to struggle not to cum too quickly? The answer unnerves him so he nuzzles into the fragrant softness of her hair like it’s a shield from his own troubled thoughts that this may have been more than a strategical move after all.

“I hope that it was still… pleasurable for you, despite my lack of experience,” Tav says falteringly, her tone rife with uncertainty. Astarion could laugh; it’s a pity that he can never tell her that this has been the best time that he’s had intimately as far as he can remember. He reasons that she probably wouldn’t believe him if he did say it but really, he can’t imagine showing his soft underbelly and making himself vulnerable this soon. She might not make herself as available next time if her ego gets too inflated, he tells himself.

Astarion places a toothy kiss under her ear, slipping his emotional mask back on (even if it felt oddly ill-fitting currently) and responds sleekly, “I wouldn’t worry about it, my love. I’m sure that after a few more times of me teaching you, you’ll probably be nearly as skilled at it as someone like me…”