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ahundredtimesover · 2 months

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I Want You to Stay (10) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

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

Chapter Word count: 20.6k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

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

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii we're close to the end! I've been enjoying this journey with all of you; thank you for being patient, and again for all your love and appreciation for this story. 🥰 Updates will continue to take longer as I continue to work and study. On another note, pls savour this! Hehe

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

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

The weekend after your site visits passes by excruciatingly slowly.

You zone out while watching your variety shows the rest of Saturday. On Sunday, you do errands and clean your apartment. Whether you’re lying on the couch or moving about, you find yourself constantly stopping, wondering how Jungkook is doing.

You could say that the trip ended on a good note. The drive back home had you sharing both the silence and conversations about growing up with your friends and finding refuge in your favorite places. He was smiling as you narrated your stories and while he told his. He was engaged most of the time, drifting away for only some short moments before coming back to you.

There was a different emotion in his eyes when you said your goodbye after he dropped you off, though. You could see gratitude in them but also sadness, as if the memories from the night before and from 20 years ago lingered. You know enough about that, too. Good memories can override bad ones sometimes, but in some cases, they only do so for a while, and they can only do so much.

The image of him of looking afraid from that Friday night is etched in your mind. The way he heaved, how he gripped your wrists as if in desperation for the sounds to stop, and the emptiness in his eyes as the thunder continued to roar keep you up at night.

You felt so constrained at that moment. There wasn’t much you could do that would be appropriate, but it doesn’t mean that you didn’t wish you could’ve done something more to comfort him, to tell him that no matter how scared he was, he wasn’t alone. That night and the morning after, you saw the most human side of Jungkook - the one that buries a lot of memories, that deals with pain and loneliness, the part that’s fearful of others seeing him stripped bare, that cowers in his own corner until the storm has passed. You saw him as someone who needs a companion but is too scared, maybe too stubborn to reach out. He looked familiar because he looked like you.

All you could do was hold him in any way, protect him from the monsters outside and maybe within, and show him that whatever hurt, gentleness could make it hurt less; hopefully it could slowly heal the ache, too.

That’s what you learned all these years - all the fear and pain you experienced as a child slowly turned into scars because of your mother’s grace and your best friends’ kindness. You don’t know who gives any of that to Jungkook, and you hoped that during that moment, you were able to give even just a fraction of what you received.

Even if he kept his distance, you stayed close because you knew that that’s when he needed you the most. And you won’t ever forget the way his eyes softened during that ride home; you won’t forget the smile tinged with apology and gratitude that accompanied the silence. You knew it was his way of expressing emotions he couldn’t verbalize and you could only wish that he knew that you accept them, that you understand.

You stop yourself from sending him messages a few times, not wanting to invade his space if he prefers to be alone. Maybe he’s figured out a way to cope. Maybe he’s moved on from the incident and wants to just forget about it. Regardless, the last thing you want is to push him away by being too close, so you do the hard thing and wait for the start of the week to see him again.

You enter the car that Monday morning with Mr. Ri’s soft eyes greeting you. You ask if he’s feeling better and he says he is, expressing his disappointment at not being there to drive you and Jungkook last week.

“How was he?” He asks, knowing that the weather was pretty bad.

“He wasn’t good,” you answer dejectedly. “I think he had a nightmare. I had to calm him down. And he… he told me what happened at that cabin when he was young. I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“It was. He was just a kid. He was only excited about the trip because he thought his parents were joining him and his brother,” the elder man says. “And well, that was when they had to be separated for safety reasons. Then that incident happened. I think he’s carried that resentment towards them ever since.”

“Were you there?”

“I was the one who found him,” Mr. Ri answers, baring his own pain at having witnessed a young Jungkook being so scared. “I noticed he was missing and I searched for over an hour. It was a big area and the ground was wet and I couldn’t hear him because of the rain. When I finally found him, I carried him back and stayed with him until he woke up. He was so frightened and he… he wasn’t the same after. There was this constant fear and this desire to just be left on his own.”

You force the scene of a young Jungkook yelling for someone under the rain out of your mind. Perhaps the detachment in his eyes that you always see is a remnant from that time when he’d felt so helpless and alone. You don’t know how someone can carry that with them for 20 years. You don’t know how someone heals from that either.

“I know he’s not your responsibility, ___. You’ve done so much for him already,” Mr. Ri continues in your silence. “But no one has shown him kindness the way you have and he's learned to accept that now. He needs it the most during those times. If it’s not too much, I hope you can continue doing that.”

“I intend to,” you respond. It had been natural for you to be gentle, to be patient, and reluctant he may have been at the start, you know your persistence helped him as well. “He’s done so much for me and I don’t think I’ll ever get to thank him for that.”

“Is that why, then?” He wonders. “Is all this just to repay him for the times he was there for you? Or is there another reason?”

You meet his eyes in the rear view mirror and the sullen, almost guilty look in yours tells him that there's more. When you look away, he learns it’s something you don’t want to accept, something you don’t want to acknowledge.

“It’s okay, you know?” He says, as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking and maybe he does. “We can’t help what we feel sometimes.”

“It doesn’t mean it’s right.”

“It doesn’t mean it’s always wrong.”

“You know it’s not that simple,” you sigh.

“I know it isn’t. But I just think that being honest about what you feel helps. It may not be easy but you owe it to yourself to find the happiness you deserve.”

“But I don’t know what that looks like.”

“You do,” he insists. “Maybe you’re just scared of what chasing it would mean. But if you allow yourself to truly feel what you feel, then it would be clear what you’d need to do. Just remember that whatever decision you make, you’re gonna have to stand by it, okay? You can’t regret any of it.”

You let his words settle, knowing that they come from a place of pain. But still, you ask a question you’ve been meaning to for a while now.

“Do you regret the decision you made back then?”

Mr. Ri prolongs the silence. He doesn’t meet your eyes when he answers.

“Everyday.”

Your heart breaks for him. You know what he did all those years ago, and knowing that it continues to haunt him pains you. You don’t want that burden. You don’t want one decision to determine how the rest of your life is gonna go with no way to make up for it. You suppose that’s what will happen to you, but you’ve got time to change all that. Maybe you just need the courage to do it.

“The debt I owed kept me from chasing my happiness,” he continues. “You’ve paid yours so don’t let it stop you. You just have to be brave enough for it.”

You nod, meeting his eyes through the mirror this time in understanding and gratitude, letting his words comfort you as you exit the car.

You walk towards Jungkook’s penthouse in anticipation, as the worry of how he’s been creeps in again. The moment you enter, you get your answer, as you hear the sound of leather hitting leather, the loudest it’s ever been. You could hear him heaving, almost breathless with every movement, but he grunts in between, and you hear the frustration in his every breath.

From your position in the kitchen, you can see him in the far right corner of his gym, throwing one punch after another, his face wincing in pain, his body gradually giving in as he slows down. He hugs the punching bag with one arm while his free hand continues to jab at it until eventually, that stops, too. He releases it then spreads his body out on the floor as he tries to catch his breath now. You can feel his exhaustion; there’s desperation, too.

He stays there for a while, and you wonder if he’s releasing whatever negative emotions he’s had these past days just now, or if this is what he’s been doing everyday since he got back.

He sits up, and you look away the moment he glances at your direction. He heads your way, nods at you in acknowledgment, then gulps down the energy drink that he takes from the fridge. His drenched white shirt sticks to his body, but it’s his bruised knuckles that catch your attention. You don’t know if these wounds are from this morning or from the days before but regardless, he acts as if they’re not there. You doubt if he even feels them sting.

Perhaps this is how he copes with anything - tiring himself out, expending all his energy until he’s numb, releasing his emotions in a way that doesn’t require him to be honest or to even say anything. Maybe this is how he accepts; maybe it’s how he moves on and forgets.

He drags himself towards his bedroom then you make your way to his closet to prepare his clothes. You return to the kitchen soon after and decide to make some fried rice. It’s the one dish you make that might make a difference to his mood this morning, so you get to work and cook with what you can, deciding that it’s definitely one of the most delicious ones you’ve ever made.

He finishes his morning routine later than usual. When you walk towards him to fix his tie, you try to hold his gaze, wanting to tell him in your own way that you’re there if he ever wants to talk, but he only glances at you before looking away. You’re unsure of the cause of his somber disposition but the sadness in his eyes causes a crack in your heart. It’s different, you think, and you don’t know how else you can comfort him.

“I made some fried rice,” you tell him as you walk to the dining table.

He follows, taking his seat then quietly eating his meal as you go through his schedule. He merely hums and doesn’t ask questions, only speaking up when you bring up last week’s site visits, with him saying that there’s no rush for that, and that you’ll talk about it some other time. It’s what tells you that what happened last Friday isn’t something he’s really gotten over. Maybe there are still remnants from that night - of fear, of discomfort; perhaps a bit of shame. And you don’t blame him. They’re what you felt after the incident at the restaurant and after your injury. Being helpless in front of someone is confronting; there’s so much of yourself that gets exposed, and you suppose it’s not something that Jungkook is used to.

You share in the silence, glancing at him to see if what you’ve prepared is affecting him in any way, and you don’t miss the subtle satisfied look he makes once he finishes his meal. It’s what prompts you to push it a little. You stand up, take an ice pack from the fridge, then retrieve the first-aid kit from the drawer. Taking a seat next to him, you lay your palm out on the table, gesturing for him to give you his hands to treat.

“There’s no need,” he says, turning away again.

“I let you push my wheelchair,” you remind him. “And I let you dress my foot.”

“You were injured.”

“And you have gashes on your hands,” you point out. “Which means you’re wounded and you can’t leave those exposed. So please, would you let me do this for you?”

There’s a hint of desperation in your voice, as if all you want is for him to give in and let you help him. You’ve been trying to meet his eyes since you arrived and he’s been the coward who avoids it every time. But the last thing he wants is for you to think that he wants to push you away because he doesn’t; he just doesn’t know how to act around you after what happened last Friday. It may have ended with your unspoken forgiveness and your smile telling him that he’ll be alright, that you’ll be alright, but the past days haven’t been good to him.

In an effort to show you that he’s not angry, he moves his hand towards yours ever so slightly. He doesn’t look at you when you take his left hand and put it over your palm, but he does feel his heart skip a beat at your touch. You place the ice pack over his knuckles, then you move it over to his other hand so you can put antiseptic cream on the one that’s free.

You’re so gentle with him even when tending to his wounds. But that shouldn’t come as a surprise, especially now, as he sees you make an effort in letting him know that everything’s okay and that you’re around in case he needs anything.

The thing is, he doesn’t know what he needs right now. After last week’s incident when he blamed you for not checking the weather, he felt ashamed. He’d apologized for how he used to treat you right before that, and then he went ahead and did all that again over a fear of his that he couldn’t get over, one that came to light that night.

You saw it all - that part of him that he despises, that he keeps hidden, that he’s burdened by.

That was another thing - you were the one who woke him up and kept him steady. Perhaps it was a nightmare he was having, but it’s also always been the way his body reacted to the rain and the thunder because of what happened when he was a child. But you saw him bare and terrified, a side of him he wasn’t sure you’d want to see or be around for. You saw him weak and helpless, things he never wants to be in front of other people. You experienced him being honest and not in control, and that made him feel unguarded.

You held him steady though, grounding him when he was slowly losing himself to the fear. Your hands on his head kept him in the present, pulling him back when his mind would travel to that fateful rainy evening in the woods. Your calm and soft voice sounded like a lullaby to him, fighting away the loud sounds that have haunted him for years. It soothed parts of him that were hurting, and you’d done it so naturally, so easily.

It’s what prompted him to share with you the memory he just can’t erase. And you told him that he could call you when it happened again so you can both replace the bad memories with good ones. Maybe you want him to be brave; he thinks that’s not something that he is.

Maybe that’s why he’s been this way since he got home that day. There’s a lot of emotion he doesn’t know how to express nor even properly name. He’s sure they’re negative though, and somehow that makes him even more ashamed. He doesn’t like not being in control. He doesn’t like being that bare and uninhibited, especially in front of you, the only person he doesn’t want to scare away.

He spent the entire weekend boxing and running around the Han River parks in hopes that all the tiredness would help keep his mind off things. But somehow, it always ended up thinking of you. It wanted to hear your voice once more; it wanted your touch.

He has them again today and he feels undeserving. Yet you’re here, healing his physical wounds and everything else that’s hurting within in the ways only you know how to. And he just wants to pull you close. He realizes now that even on days when he hates himself, you’re the one he wants to be around. Somehow you make that hate a little less than before.

“All done,” you say after placing the fabric bandage on his knuckles. “Minimal movements, okay? And ice them when you can in case something’s swollen.”

“I will,” he says softly, retrieving his hand and feeling your touch still linger, knowing he wants more of it.

You proceed to discuss some events he needs to attend all the way to the office with no mentions of how either of your weekends went. He wonders how you spent yours, hoping it was better than his. He wonders, too, if you thought about him the way he thought about you. But you seem focused on work matters for today, perhaps thinking he doesn’t want to talk about anything else. And you wouldn’t be wrong.

He gets to his room where he sighs in relief once he sits on his desk chair. It’s now that he feels the soreness and fatigue, as all he wants is to go home and lay in bed for the rest of the day. But he can’t afford that, so he pushes on, surviving a morning meeting and slowly going through each of his emails. He’s surprised when you serve him his favorite beef brisket for lunch, and your soft smile as he thanks you is his bright spot for the rest of the afternoon.

He powers through reviewing documents right after but his eyes start falling, prompting him to just lean back on his chair for a good few seconds before getting back to work. You knock on the door not long after, and then you place a cup of chamomile tea on his desk.

“I need about five espresso shots, Ms. Cho, not this,” he sighs, the tiredness in his voice evident. But you don’t seem taken aback by his words.

“I disagree, sir,” you reply. “This is to help you calm down. There’s also a couch right there. There’s a reason why it’s big and comfortable.”

He picks up on what you’re suggesting, and he shakes his head in response.

“I’m not gonna sleep here.”

“No one will know,” you shrug. “But you know it’s okay, right? I can’t imagine how tired you must be. You’re not Superman, Mr. Jeon. Plus, Mr. Jung would take naps here after long nights or during hectic days. It’s normal. And it might just be what you need.”

“I’ll decide what I need, Ms. Cho,” he says defensively. “I wouldn’t want my staff sleeping on the job so why should I?”

Jungkook regrets the words right as he says them, especially when he sees your face fall the tiniest bit. But you recover, saying that you understand then turning to head out. But you fix the pillow on the couch and place the blanket on the armrest before leaving, and he knows that your stubbornness is often a reflection of how you care.

So he takes a sip of the tea and eventually finishes it, indulging you in this way, but given the morning he’s had, his body gives in. He decides, like you said, that he needs a nap, and he doesn’t miss the victorious smile on your face that he sees from inside when he calls to instruct you not to disturb him for the next half hour.

With the dim lights and air purifier, he falls asleep right as his body hits the couch. When he wakes up 30 minutes later, he feels infinitely better; now he can focus and be productive.

You see the lights turn back on from outside and it’s your signal that he’s woken up from his nap. You wait a while before asking to enter his room to say that his father requested a meeting due to start in an hour. Jungkook’s putting his coat back on and you walk towards him to help.

“Was it good?” You ask, fixing the creases and aligning his necktie.

“Yeah,” he hums, not meeting your eyes again. “You were right, I needed that. And the couch really is comfortable.”

“That’s good. You should listen to your assistant more often,” you tease.

“I really should,” he smiles now, soft and reserved. “But I do feel better. Thank you.”

You exit his room and feel accomplished. You believe, like what others have told you, that showing him a bit of gentleness will prompt him to be a little gentler to himself, too. He works too hard sometimes, and taking a break when he needs it is one thing, but of course, it’s not everything.

The rest of the week goes by fairly similarly. Jungkook always looks tired, and it makes you wonder if he’s able to sleep properly at night or if he just overexerts himself during his morning workouts. He’s quiet when you’re not discussing work matters, making you miss your casual conversations. And though he acknowledges your occasional teasing remark, he doesn’t tease back like he’s been doing recently.

He has his moments of frustration but he’s mostly serious when you glance at him. He’s less engaging, too, and you suppose that’s what bothers you the most, as you realize that you enjoy talking with him, you enjoy getting to know him through your exchanges, allowing you a peek into his world that you know is reserved for very, very few people.

You suppose that whatever he’s dealing with is something he wants to go through on his own. Accepting your fears is one thing; accepting that you exposed all those to someone else is another. It’s why you try, in your own ways, to lift his spirits, wanting to let him know that he has nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to you.

You get him lunch from his favorite restaurants everyday, you add sweets to his servings of coffee or chocolate milk, you smile at him more, encourage him frequently, and during the times when he seems distant, you don’t completely move away. You reach out just a little bit, hoping that he’ll know that you’re around even when he doesn’t feel much like himself. You don’t want to match his detachment with your own.

It seems that you got your point across. On Friday, he dismisses you after he insists that he wants to stay back to work on a few things.

“___,” he calls out as you’re about to exit his room. “Thank you for being patient with me this week. I… I needed that.”

You turn around and Jungkook doesn’t shy away from meeting your eyes this time. He’s noticed you try to hold his gaze all week; you always lingered, too. Maybe it’s your way of comforting him or saying that you understand him. He felt both of those but he couldn’t find it in him to acknowledge them. There was a lot on his mind as he dealt with the frustration and shame of what happened, of how exposed and unguarded he was in front of you.

But you didn’t complain; you didn’t push him to engage or share anything. Even his moments of frustration were met with kindness and his silence was received with assurance. You tried to cheer him up in whatever way you could, and he could feel you just giving him time to be on his own.

He hopes he didn’t push you away. There were so many times when he just wanted you around so he could see more of your smile and hear the calmness of your voice; those always made him feel better. Whatever fears he had about how you would think of him after the incident have dissipated, as you look softly at him in understanding. He doesn’t need to say anything more, as you seem to know exactly what he means because this whole time, you seemed to also know exactly what he needed.

“I hope you’re feeling better, Jungkook,” you smile. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Jungkook returns to his usual self the week after. He says he went to one of their properties in Gwangju over the weekend where the weather was good and the long drive helped him stay focused and rejuvenated. He doesn’t say much of what he’s feeling and you expect that, but you’re glad his little trip gave him some peace somehow.

You, on the other hand, were left to deal with your growing feelings for him while downplaying them to your best friends. They came over for their regular visit on Saturday and while they were sympathetic with Jungkook over what happened, they still reminded you to be cautious. Once you cross a line, there’s no going back, and once you fully admit to what you feel, you can’t unfeel it; not acting on it becomes too hard and in your case, complicated.

The week is like any other but with much anticipation, given the upcoming annual team building that everyone’s excited about. This is one of the things that the support team was worried wouldn’t happen under Jungkook’s leadership, but you assured them early on that it was mandatory. And with him having loosened up and feeling more comfortable around them, you have high hopes that he’ll enjoy it as much as everyone will.

It’s why on that Saturday, you find yourself in the mall to buy the things that you’ll be needing for those three days that you’ll be spending in one of the Jeon properties in Gangwon. The venue changes every year and the villas by the lake are perfect for spring this time. Your shopping list includes all the materials for the activities and some other things Jungkook requested, like a certain book that he doesn’t have time to buy.

You enter a bookstore and as you try to find what you’re looking for, something else catches your eye. You may love the library for the space more than the books, but there will always be those that pull you in and make you curious. Even if you only read picture books when you were younger, there were a few short stories and poems that piqued your interest. You never finished them but you did manage to get through several pages.

The one right in front of you - with its pastel colored cover and simple yet intriguing design - feels like one of those. To your delight, it’s a short story collection, and your smile is immediate as you go through the pages, with each story being accompanied by illustrations that feel so personal. This would be a nice read while you’re lounging at the villa’s deck or even on your balcony, you think.

Another book catches your attention. The title is familiar, and you realize it’s one of the classics that you were required to read in high school. It has a new cover, and you see that it’s a new edition to celebrate its 30th year. You go through the pages as well, thinking back to when you had to force yourself to finish this some 15 years ago. It looks more fresh now, and definitely more enticing.

“Did you find what you’re looking for?”

You look up to find a tall man with deep-set eyes as the owner of the voice who’d interrupted your moment of book appreciation.

“I’m okay,” you dismiss him. “I don’t need assistance.”

You politely smile then return the books in their respective spots, ready to head out and search for what you came here to buy.

“Are you not going to get those?” The man presses. “You seemed to be interested in them and—”

“Were you watching me?” You ask, taken aback.

“Uh, no. I mean, not in the way you think,” he answers in panic, seemingly nervous at how it looks. “I wasn’t being creepy or anything I just… I…”

“Do you even work here?” You interrogate him, your alarm bells ringing at this man’s odd behavior and the absence of a nameplate that the other staff have on.

“I actually work for the company that published those books,” he says, his head down as if in embarrassment. “And we just put those out this week and I’m checking around to see people’s reaction and I realize now that it’s incredibly foolish of me to stand around and observe customers because it’s not only creepy, it’s also terribly disrespectful. I’m so sorry.”

There’s guilt in his eyes and it’s something you can recognize. You decide he’s being sincere and engage him a little.

“So… you work at Rkive Publishing?” You ask as you glance at the books. “As what?”

“I’m an editor, actually,” he answers, revealing his shy smile and dimples. “I’ve spent months on these books and thought, what better way to know people’s impression than to see them for myself? It seemed better in my head. I guess I wasn’t being subtle.”

“No, not really. I was kinda having a moment but then you popped out of nowhere,” you say, laughing to ease the tension. “But uh, the covers are stunning. I liked the personal touch of the short story collection and this classic looks a lot more interesting than I remember.”

“That’s uh, that’s good,” he grins, mostly to himself. “Our production team did really well in putting them together and to see the final products is incredibly satisfying, even more so when customers feel the same.”

“I don’t really read books but these just caught my eye. It’s a good way to pull people in,” you admit.

“That’s nice to know,” he smiles again. “I feel pretty fulfilled just knowing they got your attention. Even if you won’t buy them.”

He doesn’t seem like he’s guilt-tripping you but he still apologizes for how it sounds.

“I just… feel really strongly about how these pieces connect with people, even if it’s fleeting,” the man continues. “I just got over excited but thank you for not shunning me away.”

“I don’t think connections are fleeting, though,” you remark, surprising him and even yourself. “Even if it’s a thought or a memory or an impression… they stay with you in one way or another. I mean, every time I enter a bookstore, I’ll probably think about those covers and remember these books and maybe the excitement I felt. That’s still something, isn’t it?”

There’s appreciation in the man’s eyes as he takes in your words.

You may not be a book nerd nor an artsy person but you’ve been more introspective lately about the things around you. You don’t know if it’s the desperation to relate with anything and everything but if there’s one thing that working on the Arts Center has pushed you to do, it’s that pursuit of connection - with your surroundings, with people, and with yourself. You suppose that’s where all this is coming from, and the stranger in front of you whom you’re somehow connecting with right now understands that.

“It is something,” he flashes a smile again, the joy in it radiating and softening his very manly features. “That’s very reassuring, thank you.”

He steps aside and nods, perhaps giving you the space that he thinks he invaded, which in hindsight, you’re glad he did.

You bow in acknowledgment and head towards another aisle to look for that leadership book that Jungkook asked you to get. You immediately find it then make your way home, all the while thinking about your earlier encounter and how the briefest conversations can make you reflect about things and as you learn, lead you down a path you didn’t expect.

To appease your curiosity, you research about Rkive Publishing and learn that it’s a ten-year old company that works with up-and-coming local authors. It has also taken on special projects such as publishing classics for their milestone releases and some translated works. The man you met, who happens to be the editorial director, is a poet as well but apparently finds as much happiness in putting pieces out for people to enjoy as he does in writing them himself. He doesn’t seem that much older than you but he’s seen the world and in the eyes of an artist, you can’t imagine how beautiful and heartbreaking that must be.

You go down a rabbit hole of reading some of his poems and even some interviews he’d done when he set up the company years ago. You learn that he loves to write about the complexity of relationships, the fragility of human emotions, and the search for permanence in an impermanent world.

His words are captivating. You want to pick apart his brain to know more about what he thinks about humans’ need for connection despite our fear of them. You want to know what makes love the way it is, why it creates and sustains and ruins those who feel and have them. You want to know if he thinks that each person is capable of love, if that’s what makes us human, or if our humanness derives from the inadequacy of love - of what we give and what we receive.

You read a bit more about the books they’ve published and the authors they’ve worked with over the years. It’s midnight by the time you finish, and other than deciding that you’ll go back tomorrow to buy that short story book collection, one other thing fills your mind - the thought that there’s a reason for that encounter earlier, and it’s probably to lead you to finding this company and the production officer position that happens to be currently vacant.

The soft eyes that greet you from across the table where the books are placed is a welcome sight this time. The man from yesterday flashes you a shy smile and you greet him with your own.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon but I’m glad that you’re here,” he says as he approaches you.

You raise the book you intend to buy. “Connections aren’t fleeting,” you remind him. “I couldn’t really stop thinking about this since yesterday. And uh, curiosity got to me and I looked up Rkive Publishing. You’re doing great work. I read that you’re working on translations of several books, too.”

His eyes light up as he talks about wanting to attract a wider audience, given the increasing interest in Korean culture. The story of your people appeals to many because it’s shared, and he says that’s one beauty of art in whatever form - the meanings are endless, and they weave together to form something enduring and constant. That’s what he and his mother hoped for the company when they founded it a decade ago, he narrates, and he has the tough task of creating that avenue for such art to affect more people without diluting its meaning.

“I’m sorry, I’m rambling again,” he shakes his head. “I just get so… yeah. I’ve just never met a buyer who actually searched us up after seeing our books on the shelf. I’m trying to engage more people. Our sales team said that’s one way to establish our presence.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you assure him. “I may not be as passionate about anything as you but I understand feeling strongly about something. And if I’m being honest… there’s another thing that caught my eye about your company.”

“What is it?”

“You have an opening for the production officer position. I… I was impressed and looked up career options.”

“Ah, so you’re interested then?” He asks excitedly.

“I am. Although I don’t have any experience in publishing or anything related to books or literature for that matter.”

“Relevant experience is the qualification,” he hums. “I’d ask more but I can do so during the interview. What do you say?”

“That’s if I’ll make the shortlist,” you laugh. “Although I suppose my executive assistant experience is relevant enough.”

“Oh, it definitely is. That is no easy task.”

“Well, I hope meeting you like this won’t make any future application inappropriate,” you say.

“Not at all. That position has been vacant for a while. And we’re looking for two. It’s not always the role that those in the industry go for. I suppose it’s made for those looking for a career change,” he playfully winks. “But seriously though, think of this encounter as part of the process. You’ve done your research about us anyway, which kind of means you’re already a step ahead. It’s only a matter of actually applying, which I hope you do.”

“It’s an option,” you hum. “This wasn’t something I initially considered but it’s amazing how certain moments shape our decisions, isn’t it? I mean, they’re not really fleeting.”

“Of course,” he nods, thinking back to your comment from yesterday. “It’s all about being open, so please think about it. I may not know anything about your credentials but talking with you has already given me insight into what you think about our work and the power of stories. And that’s very important to me.”

“I still have a lot going on but I’ll definitely keep you in mind. I hope the position is still open when the time comes.”

“If it’s meant to be then it will be,” he assures you. “I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

“I know,” you giggle, taking the business card that he hands out. “And I’m ___. I’ll see you around.”

His smile is the last thing you see before you head out the store with your purchased book in hand. And as you lay in bed that night, the possibilities of taking on a new journey play in your mind.

There’s the connection to the good memories of your childhood and the unloading of the burdens you carry. There’s being around people you’re not tied or indebted to and there’s forging your own way towards a path that you deliberately chose.

But there’s also Jungkook, whom you can’t stop thinking about and who happens to be a hindrance when it comes to pursuing your own goals in life. Those goals include happiness and freedom even if ironically, those are the things he also gives you. There’s the new emotions he makes you feel, the connection you can’t deny you have with him, and the desire that constantly eats you up inside.

You’ve always had your feet inside your walls with your hand on the door, just waiting for the courage to finally step out. The only thing stopping you is Jungkook and all the other possibilities with him. They may remain unrealized but they’re there. You just hope that one day you’ll convince yourself that walking away from him was exactly the thing you had to do.

You watch in awe as Yohan loads the last crate of food in the rented van you’ll be using for this weekend’s team building in some lakeside property in Gangwon. The trunk is filled with all sorts of meat and vegetables, chips, and alcohol that seem to be good for a tribe of more than 10, way more than your team of seven.

“You do know we’re only there for three days, right?” You remind the younger man. “I don’t think we eat this much.”

“Don’t you know Do-hyun?” Yohan says. “She’s half my size but she eats twice as much as I do. And I eat a lot. Plus, the guy she was seeing ghosted her so she’s probably gonna eat even more. Heartbreak shit, you know?”

“I don’t,” you chuckle, although you can’t help but feel bad again for Do-hyun whom you had to comfort not long ago because of her boy problems. “But are you sure these are all within budget?”

“Yes. Chin-sun is a master at bargaining. And, because we’re such a good team, Mr. Min and Mr. Jung gave us some of their favorite liquor,” Yohan hums satisfyingly. “Those smell expensive. So yeah, we didn’t have to spend much on alcohol since Mr. Jeon brought some, too, which is why we got to buy all this food.”

“Fine, but we can’t have drunken shenanigans, okay? I don’t have the energy to babysit you guys. And Mr. Jeon is no weakling; he’ll be awake to see you misbehave if you do.”

“We’ll go as far as incredibly out-of-tune karaoke singing, we promise,” Yohan laughs, learning his lesson after last year’s midnight swim in the freezing cold river where he almost got swept away.

Hoseok was thankfully passed out and did not witness the almost-emergency. You had to remind your team that though you’ll be going on a team-building - which is really just an excuse for the staff to eat and drink in some scenic venue - there are still rules in place, and it would be best not to give Jungkook any problem, given the progress that you’ve all made.

You enter the car then leave the office - your meet up place - to take the long drive to your destination. You just got the message from Mr. Ri that they’re almost there; they left much earlier so that Jungkook could make it to a virtual meeting with Hoseok and his father.

The ride starts off peaceful, as everyone is still slowly waking up. Halfway through, it becomes chaotic, with Do-hyun and Yohan arguing about who’ll be on cleaning duties on which days as the youngest ones on the team. You laugh along, knowing you’ll end up helping them anyway, but you look out the window and wonder how Jungkook is doing.

He’s been incredibly busy leading to today, with several site visits to the Arts Center and meetings with the project teams multiple times the past two weeks. He’s been staying late in the office, too, and working on the weekends. You know, because you get the odd-hour emails and find portfolios on your desk in the morning. Despite the work that he still has to squeeze in during this weekend, you hope he gets a bit of rest. More than that, you hope he finds time to be with the team and bond with them. Only you know this may be your last, and you want to keep the memories of these three days and make sure they’re good ones.

You arrive at the place and look around, amazed at every corner and every space you set your eyes on. You know that the Jeon family has dozens of properties in scenic locations that they escape to or put out for rent. This lakeside estate is one of a few you haven’t been to yet, and there’s a reason why Jungkook wanted this to be your venue this year. It’s spacious with lots of things to do and the view is absolutely stunning. Lush mountains frame the sparkling body of water, and with the breeze of spring, it’s every bit relaxing as you hoped.

It’s quiet as the rest of the team walks around in awe. The main house boasts of a large kitchen and living space and it’s surrounded by four two-bedroom villas with their own decks. You, Chin-sun, and Do-hyun head to one while Yohan and Manager Lee head to another. You give yourselves half an hour to fix up before reconvening and when you do, you immediately smile upon seeing Jungkook already waiting.

He greets the team, formally welcomes you all, then talks about the property and all its amenities. He discusses what’s in store for these next three days, then he proceeds with the first activity, which is really the only work-related thing you’re all required to do.

Jungkook facilitates the session, and he starts by asking everyone to reflect on all the gains and challenges this past year. He instructs each of you to share your team highs and lows, what enabled you to achieve the successes and overcome the difficulties, what caused you the most stress, and what you’re most thankful for. Every answer is met with confirming nods and statements, and it seems that everyone is on the same page about how the year went.

The session highlights your team dynamics - you’re all very encouraging of each other, but it doesn’t stop the young ones from bickering and teasing the rest of you. It’s fun though, as you end the hour with laughter and more memories to take with you. You glance at Jungkook who seems satisfied with every response; you hope he’s proud of how he managed everything, too, and you make sure you mention it during your turn. The smile he makes when everyone agrees warms your heart in a way you don’t expect, even more so when he holds your gaze when he thanks the team in return.

You’re rewarded with a hearty lunch an hour later, and not long after, you find yourselves near the deck of the lake, discussing how to spend your two hours of free time before the next activity.

Chin-sun and Manager Lee decide on just laying on the lounge chairs to soak up the sun. Yohan gets on a jet-ski while Do-hyun flounders about in the lake. Sipping your beer, you lean on one of the tables and savor the fresh air.

There’s not much of this in the city, and the silence - save for the young ones’ laughter in the background - is definitely worth the long ride and the backlog you’ll be having once the weekend is over. You’re not really one to stay outdoors. You’d much rather stay inside, under the covers where you could watch movies or variety shows. That was always how you preserved your peace. Being outside always intimidated you, and you think now it’s probably because you just haven’t seen that many beautiful views like this in your life. If this is what’s outside your window everyday, you’d probably be out all the time.

“___, are you just gonna stay there? The water’s amazing,” Do-hyun whines as she approaches you. “Or sunbathe if you don’t want to get wet. Just get out there.”

“I’m content just watching you enjoy yourselves,” you say. “I can see the view just fine from here.”

“It’s much better up close,” she counters, standing next to you now. “Come on, this is your time to let loose since you have the permission to do so. Mr. Jeon isn’t gonna be a killjoy and watch your every move, you know? If he will, then I will…”

“You will what?” You laugh.

“I will tell him he’s being a killjoy. How often can we be in a place as beautiful as this?”

“Do-hyun’s right,” Jungkook says as he appears to your left, catching both of you off guard and prompting Do-hyun to sweetly smile at him. He’s in shorts and a loose long-sleeve shirt, perhaps ready to enjoy the outdoors as well. “The place is too beautiful for you to just sit back and watch.”

“And what will you do?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Sit back and watch,” he shrugs, earning him a laugh from you and Do-hyun. “And enjoy my beer. That’s how I relax.”

“Please don’t be boring,” Do-hyun pouts at him, embracing that little sister energy that you’ve all come to love. “You should know, Mr. Jeon, Yohan is being all cocky, saying that he’s the best jet ski rider among all of us here. I have a feeling that he’s wrong, so please show him who’s boss. I mean, you are, obviously. But, you know what I mean.”

“I think I do,” Jungkook chuckles, putting down his drink and looking out into the lake. “But sure. I haven’t ridden one in a while but let’s see how I go.”

Jungkook walks towards the water then unknots the other jet ski. He removes his shirt and wears the life vest before riding towards where Yohan is. The view of him half-naked triggers memories of all the times you’ve seen him like that, times when you’d look away and keep yourself from thinking inappropriate thoughts. It’s no different this time, but somehow, it’s much harder to keep your heart from racing this fast.

“Holy fuck,” Do-hyun gasps next to you. “Please don’t report me but shit, ___. Whoever’s doing Mr. Jeon is one lucky woman. I mean, look at that. And who knew he had a full sleeve of tattoo? That is so freaking hot.”

From your periphery, you could see her shocked face but you merely hum in response. You don’t want to get carried away by your own expletives because there really aren’t enough curses in the dictionary when it comes to describing Jungkook’s body.

“You don’t seem surprised,” she looks at you curiously. “And you’re not affected. You’ve seen it before, haven’t you?”

“Of course I have. I’m with him everyday,” you say nonchalantly.

“In clothes, I would assume.”

“He works out every morning and he’s in sleeveless tops sometimes,” you clarify. “Obviously I’ve seen his arm.”

She furrows her brows as if she doesn’t believe you, even if you’re telling the truth. There are just other parts of that story that you don’t want to share.

“Hmm, fair enough,” she gives in. “But I’d probably be constantly flustered or even crushing on him if I were you. So how have you managed being around him and not being attracted all this time knowing he looks like that?”

You’re forced to look at Do-hyun, as you try to find the words to say, when she answers her own question.

“Right, he can be quite detached and too serious and he’s a playboy and—”

“You also forget that I am his assistant and he is my boss,” you remind her. “Thoughts like that—”

“Are perfectly normal,” she interjects. “And totally understandable. He’s a hot bachelor, ____. I wouldn’t be able to function professionally if I were in your shoes. Which is why it’s great that I’m here and you’re the one in that position.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I might lose this job if I lose my shit every time because my boss is so hot,” she reasons. “And it’s not just me. I’ve seen the female staff lose their cool around him just because he spoke to them or looked their way. It’s kind of embarrassing. But I guess the broody, asshole-y vibes add to that. And then there’s you who’s in his apartment every morning and heavens know what you’ve seen or heard since we all know that the rumors about his dating life are true and you seem fine and totally unbothered.”

You want to laugh at how completely off Do-hyun is with her observations. Sure, you tried to be cool about it at the beginning and you mostly succeeded in being calm whenever you came close or saw any part of his body exposed.

But somewhere along the way, things changed. When you saw the layers underneath, he wasn’t just attractive physically; he was suddenly so much more. That somehow made it harder but it also made all the restraint worth it. But that’s not something you want to divulge to Do-hyun. No matter how difficult, you know you need to keep yourself together and stop the feelings from going any deeper.

“Well, just like you, I can’t lose my job and I will if I let it affect me,” you say. “But if I may say so… there’s definitely more to the broody, serious man we met almost a year ago.”

“Hmm, I guess that’s true. He’s definitely more thoughtful than I expected. Maybe a little funny, too. But that’s really all I know. He just seems too reserved, you know? Seeing him do something like ride a jet ski or laugh with us feels like such a luxury for a man like him,” Do-hyun adds. “It must be hard to get to know him beyond all this. I know it sure is hard to love someone like that.”

You know that Do-hyun’s merely projecting. The recent guy she was seeing was a lot more shy and private than the ones she’s dated before. But she got him to open up and she thought that was it, that she’d broken through his walls and they’d be permanently down for her, only to realize it wasn’t the case. He was distant for a few days and she tried to get through again only for him to completely shut her out; she hasn’t heard from him in weeks.

It’s probably why you agree. People who keep their distance and disengage whenever they want are hard to love. You’d know because you’re like that. It hits you hard knowing that Jungkook is probably the same.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you and Do-hyun watch Jungkook and Yohan outride one another, splashing each other with water and screaming in excitement when they speed up. Seeing this other side of Jungkook does something to you again, and the sight of his smile as he dries his hair while teasing Yohan triggers the butterflies in your belly.

He approaches you - thankfully with his shirt on this time - and you suddenly feel too hot. He tells you that the water’s nice and you should get in, but you’re too self-conscious now, so you compromise and say you’ll just dip your feet in the water while you sit on the steps that lead down to the lake.

That’s how you spend the rest of the hour, as Chin-sun, Manager Lee, and Do-hyun join Yohan in swimming while Jungkook stays back, watching you all from afar. You glance at him a few times and he catches your eyes. He lifts his can in cheers and you do the same. He heads to where you are some time after with five cans of beer then walks back to his room, and you suddenly miss his presence. You wish he was next to you, perhaps laughing or talking about something random or just sitting with you in silence. You’ve learned that last bit brings you a lot of comfort and peace; the view somehow isn’t as beautiful when you aren’t sharing it with him.

It’s an hour later, after having dried and fixed up, when you’re all on the basketball court to start the next activity that Mr. Ri prepared. Divided into teams of two, each pair is assigned a path that leads to either the mountain, the woods, or the stream to find bags of coins needed to “purchase” materials to create a science experiment-type water rocket. It’s meant to practice your communication and problem-solving skills with those you work most closely with, which is why Chin-sun and Do-hyun, and Manager Lee and Yohan are paired up respectively while you, of course, end up with Jungkook.

“The caretakers and I spent all morning preparing this game, so please take it seriously,” Mr Ri says. “And bond with each other while you’re at it.”

You see the competitiveness in the young ones’ eyes, especially when it’s announced that there’s a prize for the winners, and you like the energy. Being Jungkook’s partner, you know it’s just about completing the task and somehow, it’s the bonding bit that makes you nervous. You already know you’re going to like it, which is precisely why it terrifies you.

“There are ATVs for each team which you will ride to the start of the path. You’ll have to go by foot when you get there or else you’ll miss the bags of coins,” Mr. Ri instructs. “You have walkie-talkies to reach me in case you get lost but please don’t. And try to be back here in an hour. All clear?”

You all express your acknowledgement and he signals the start. The other teams rush to their rides and quickly drive off while you and Jungkook stroll to yours.

He takes the helmet and puts it on you, and he laughs again like he did at the Arts Center months ago before riding the vehicle.

“I should’ve expected that,” you pout.

“Which?”

“That you’ll laugh at me again.”

“It looks cute on you,” he says casually before riding the vehicle.

Your eyes widen at his words and you’re glad he has his back turned on you. That way he can’t see the way you’re trying to hold your smile and suppress the giddy feeling at his remark. It makes it that much harder for you to climb up behind him though, but you manage, and you ensure there’s some distance between you and him, knowing how you tend to be when you get close.

Jungkook, on the other hand, internally smacks himself after he says the words. He didn’t mean for the thoughts in his head to actually come out. He’s glad he didn’t see your probably awkward expression, and that right now, he needs to focus on the road. That way, he can preoccupy himself with your safety and not his embarrassment.

He means it though. There’s something about you in a helmet that gets him, or even in anything oversized, like his jacket that he made you wear once. There’s also something about you wading in the water and laughing so freely that make his insides melt. Anything you do actually triggers something in him - a protective side, a care-free side; a side that wants to take a pause and bask in the scenery that includes you.

Now he has to act like he’s not affected with you sitting behind him as he drives the ATV down the rugged path. He feels you far from him, sitting close to the edge and holding onto the handles behind you. But as the road gets rockier, he starts to get worried.

“You should hold onto me,” he says, turning his head to the side so you could hear him before slowing down. “It’s safer that way.”

It takes a few seconds but he feels you move closer to him, your arms slowly wrapping around his torso. It’s a bit loose but it’s enough for his breathing to quicken.

“Is… is this okay?” You softly ask.

“Yeah,” he manages to say. “It’s a bit rocky out here so be careful. You can, uh, you can hold on tighter if you feel unstable.”

You hum in response but you maintain your position. He supposes you don’t know how bumpy it could be. It makes him worry and he wishes you’d grab onto him more only because he’s afraid you’d fall, and that’s exactly what happens after the first big bump.

You yelp, tightening your grip around him immediately. He feels his heart stop, unprepared to have your arms around his waist and your chest flushed against his back even if that’s what he’d suggested you do. He’s felt you close in several instances already, but each time feels different. It affects him the same way though - all he wants is to have you even closer.

But that’s not something he can think of right now, especially when you’re both alone, in a place that’s conducive to letting his inhibitions go.

It’s calm and peaceful out here. There’s a lot of open space but he enjoys it more when he’s looking at it from the comforts of the balcony or the deck. He always prefers to stay indoors because the outdoors somehow make him feel more constricted; he supposes that being trapped in the woods as a child would do that to anyone. He’s always just been a spectator, watching everything from behind the safety of his walls, knowing that he could feel a bit unsteady out there.

But ever since you got here and he’d seen you enjoy the surroundings, all he’s felt was the stability of having you near him. That, ironically, scares him, too. The more he’s comfortable with you, the more worried he becomes. So he settles on what he knows how to do - keeping you at a fair distance but creating moments here and there, only so you don’t think he’s pushing you away or detaching himself.

You decide to just hold onto Jungkook for safety purposes. You didn’t realize that the path towards the stream is this rocky, but you suppose it should be since you’re in the undeveloped part of the property. It's probably why he asked you to hold onto him; he’s your safety precaution and you know enough that he wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.

He’s steady and skilled in navigating the ATV, avoiding the big bumps and alerting you when there’s going to be one. It’s actually quite attractive. He feels so nice like this, with his soft hoodie and natural scent, and you have to pull away every once in a while so as not to get too comfortable. You can’t let yourself imagine this to be a possibility beyond today, you remind yourself. He can’t be someone you constantly seek, that you could fall into, even if that’s pretty much where you’re at at this point.

You reach the end of the road and Jungkook lets you get down first, instructing you to hold his arm for support, before following right after. You walk towards the mark that signifies the start of the path where you’re supposed to find the bags of coins, and you look around to see that there are more shrubs than trees. It feels a little less constricting compared to if you were in the mountains or the woods, which is why you think Mr. Ri assigned this to both of you.

You and Jungkook start searching, and with the topography of the place, it’s easy to spot the bags that are hanging from the tree branches. You point one out and Jungkook steps on the hollowed out trunk to retrieve it. You stand by watching, reminding him to be careful. And though you tell yourself to focus on the bag, you can’t help but glance at the sight of him - in his light gray sweatpants and hooded sweatshirt, looking casual and comfortable and even more attractive.

It doesn’t help when he reaches out towards the branch while you stay on a spot below him, and the view of him from this angle leaves you quite breathless. Not only does his hoodie rise up to reveal his waist and that lower half of his torso that you’d held onto earlier, but you also get a peek of the band of his underwear, too. Your mind short-circuits for the briefest moment, even more when he stretches even more to pull the bag towards him, and you’re able to snap out of it in time, as you watch him slowly make his way down.

“Watch your step, watch your step!” You call out.

He easily descends, and with his smug face, he lifts the bag for you to see.

“Do you not have faith in my tree-climbing capabilities?” he asks you.

“It’s just not something I’ve seen you do before,” you shrug, acting nonchalantly as you return to walking down the path.

“So, were you worried?”

“Uhm, yes? I can’t have an injured Vice President on my watch,” you exclaim, earning you a laugh. “How am I gonna transport you out of this dirt road and back to the house? I can barely keep still as a passenger on the ATV.”

“Well, I could get hurt but I definitely won’t be immobile,” he points out. “I won’t be a hard person to help.”

“Right… I’m the one who gets injured and then can’t walk.”

He frowns at you at the reminder, and you counter that it’s okay for you to make fun of your injury but that he��s right, he probably won’t be as injured as you. You wave him off, hoping that you don’t have to deal with an incapacitated version of him during this game. You also won’t be able to handle worrying about him without giving too much away.

You return your focus on finding the other bags. There are those hidden behind rocks and in shallow holes; you know because of the shovel next to them. There’s another one tied around the trunk of the tree, and you have to hold your breath again when Jungkook climbs up to get it.

As expected, you have good teamwork. You section off areas to search at and quickly find what you’re looking for. You go for the ones you can get and then ask him to reach for the ones you can’t. There’s some bickering in between, with him pretending that he’s stuck or caught on something while you panic and then pout at him for scaring you. But there are some moments of silence, too, where you walk side by side and bask in the scent of your surroundings. Either way, it’s time that you enjoy just being around him, taking in the environment that you often stayed away from. With him, it’s a lot less scary and definitely more freeing.

When you’re down to your last one, you and Jungkook think that Mr. Ri would hide it somewhere near the end of the path, so you both decide to just take in your surroundings as you stroll towards the stream.

“So, nature smells like this, huh?” you hum. “It’s quite comforting.”

“It is,” he says. “I forget sometimes. It’s nice to remember.”

“Don’t you spend a lot of time outdoors?” You wonder. “You’ve mentioned driving out to some of your properties with views like this. I’d assume you stay out and enjoy the scenery.”

“I do enjoy the scenery… just from inside,” he chuckles, knowing the irony of his words. “It’s just more comfortable that way, I guess. So I appreciate being forced to go outside this weekend.”

“At least you’re not alone, right?”

“That’s true.”

“I’m the same,” you say. “I don’t go out much. I mean, I’m often on my own so I just stay indoors but I do enjoy the scenery when I’m with others. It feels too lonely when you’re by yourself. To be something so small in a world so big… It's kind of scary.”

“Well, I’m here with you. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

You don’t think Jungkook will ever know the weight of his words and just how wrong he is. To be in a place so beautiful with him next to you… it’s everything you’re scared of. You’ve come to appreciate a lot of things because of him. You’ve come to want more when you shouldn’t because of him. You always find yourself in a state of push-and-pull with your emotions when it comes to him, knowing that he’s someone you can’t have. He’ll always be out of reach no matter how close he is. He’ll always hinder you from the kind of life you want to have even if that includes him.

The logical part of you wants to keep your distance, to not create any more memories that will haunt you and that you’ll miss. But the stubborn part of you wants you to hold onto this to remind you that beautiful things are tangible and he’s the one thing you can see and hear; maybe he’s something you can touch, too.

The latter one wins, so you slow your pace, take in the sight before you, and decide that this is a memory you’ll want to keep. You take the disposable camera from your pouch, something you bought the other week specifically for this trip, knowing it might be your last. You take a photo of the sky, then of the path ahead of you, then of the stream, making sure there’s a bit of him in there - a mop of hair, a portion of his arm, his shadow.

It’s then that you see the last bright red bag on one of the big rocks near the water’s edge.

“Oh, there it is,” you say, immediately walking towards it.

You look around and strategize how you’ll get to the rock safely but Jungkook insists that he’ll be the one to get it.

“You’ve gotten all the tricky ones,” you argue, given that he’d climbed the tree and crawled under the shrub because your leggings were too thin and wouldn’t be able to protect you from the thorny branches. “I can get this.”

“It might be slippery.”

“I have good balance,” you lie.

“Uh, I clearly remember that you don’t.”

“Hey,” you pout at him, knowing he’s referring to that time you tripped on yourself during one of your Arts Center visits. “It was the heels. That’s clearly not a problem this time.”

You step on the wet stones and balance your way as they lead towards the big rock, with Jungkook repeatedly telling you to be careful. His voice just gets louder and louder, but you turn around and see that he’s actually just following you. It’s your mistake, as your loss of focus causes you to slip on one of the rocks and almost lose your balance. Fortunately, it doesn’t make you fall on your ass. Your foot merely slides to the side, barely missing the water, which is really fine, but Jungkook doesn’t think so.

“Don’t move until you’re stable,” he instructs, holding out his hand for you to take, prompting you to look at him questioningly. “That’s the foot you injured. You can’t risk spraining it again. Just take my hand or hold my wrist so you can safely get the bag.”

You do as he says, grabbing his forearm so you can stabilize yourself. You let him go once you do, then you turn and take a few small steps to get what you need. He stays close to you though, and once you retrieve the bag, you turn towards him with a proud smile and announce that half of your task has been completed.

“You’re incredibly stubborn, you know that?” He says instead, his firm voice a contrast to his playful frown.

“And you are quite the nagger,” you hit back. “I wouldn’t have slipped if I hadn’t turned and I wouldn’t have done that if you weren’t so noisy.”

“Sure, it’s my fault. Sorry for caring about your safety,” he shakes his head.

“Well, you were underestimating me,” you frown now. “I could’ve done all this without your help.”

“Really?” He challenges.

“Yes,” you stand your ground. “Although I would still need your help to get back to land.”

It’s what makes him laugh, and the way his eyes light up and crinkle makes your heart race. He has such a sweet sound, and you wish you could hear more of it.

“I figured. Let’s go, then.”

“Wait,” you stop him and check your watch. “We still have time. Can we stay for a bit? The water’s quite nice and the view of the mountains is prettier from here.”

Jungkook looks around. The mountain range from far away looks majestic from this angle, and with the sun about to set soon, the way the light shines on the water is just as beautiful.

“Okay then,” he says, wanting to savor this as well.

You just said you don’t go out much, and maybe like what he feels, being with him makes you want to take it all in; maybe it makes you feel less scared.

You both find dry rocks to sit at and it’s the perfect spot for you to take more photos, so you take out your camera and see which angles look best.

“Did you buy that for this trip?” he asks.

“Yeah. I knew the sights would be beautiful. I just wanted to keep something from here,” you explain.

“Give it to me then,” he says, reaching out his hand and gesturing towards your camera. “Let me take one of you so you’ll always remember.”

You hand it over to him then suddenly feel awkward at how you’re supposed to pose. You stay seated with your legs just slightly bent but are unsure of where you’re supposed to look. It feels a little too tense if you look at his direction, even if that’s what you should be doing.

“It’s free to smile, you know? That’s what people usually do for photos,” he says, causing you to giggle. He takes the photo right then, and you have an idea he caught your smile at the right time.

“Was that a trick?” You ask.

“Sort of. I knew you were gonna think of how bold it was of me to say that, considering that I barely even smile.”

“Wow, I can’t even tease you anymore because you already know what I’m gonna say.”

“I know sometimes you can’t help but just tease me like that. I know you too well,” he smugly says. “But I think I got a good photo. You’re welcome.”

You laugh at his playfulness, knowing it’s rare for him to show that side of him. So you ask for your camera back and decide you want him to be part of this particular memory. You hold it out and turn towards him.

“May I?” You ask.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” he hums. “I just don’t know how to smile.”

You giggle again and you’re quick enough to catch the brief moment when he lets out a short laugh.

You look at him softly, as if there’s more you want to say - that you’ll keep this close to you so you’ll remember what his smile looks like, that he’s something beautiful you can hear and see, that you feel so safe out here with him, and that you hope he’ll remember this, too.

But you look away before any of the words make it out.

You think to just quietly savor this, as you bask in the sounds of the cicadas and the flow of the water and the rustling of the leaves. You’re so small in this big world, but being with Jungkook makes things a little less scary. With him, you don’t feel so alone.

A bit more time passes before you both decide to head back. He reaches out his hand which you mindlessly take, your fingers instinctively wrapping around his palm. You’re too focused on your steps that you only realize you’re still holding him once you both safely make it to dry land. But it’s also at that moment when he lets go. Though a part of you wishes he’d drag the illusion a bit more, you’re also glad he didn’t; you would’ve probably held on longer if he didn’t pull away.

The silence continues as you both walk back to the start of the path, but he stays near you, occasionally asking if you’re tired or cold. You make it to the ATV and you hold onto his waist again with no instructions needed this time. He drives a bit faster than earlier but you feel safe and steady, and there’s something natural about the way you’re clinging to him for support. Part of the illusion as well, you think, but that ends, too.

You’re the last one back to the villas but you and Jungkook quickly make up some ground in assembling the water rocket. It was mostly him, though, as he says that he tinkers around and easily figures these things out. Do-hyun and Chin-sun feel the pressure as you catch up, and they shriek as they slowly feel the win slipping away from them. But then Jungkook holds onto the last piece and lets them win instead. The way they celebrate after their rocket successfully launches makes it feel worth it; you don’t feel bad about it at all. If anything, you expected he’d let either of the other two teams finish first.

After the winners are handed out hotel accommodation gift cards, Jungkook excuses himself to get a bit of work done while the rest of the team prepares for dinner. The team works on your assigned tasks of preparing the grill and slicing the vegetables, while you cook your famed fried rice after Do-hyun convinced you that it would heal her broken heart. Seated outside with the cool evening air, you all wait for Jungkook before starting.

“Mr. Jeon said he’ll just message me once he’s ready to eat,” Mr. Ri says as he takes his seat. “We can start without him.”

“But it’s not a team dinner without him,” Do-hyun whines. “He should take a break from working and spend time with us.”

“I’m sure he wants that, too,” you say. “Let’s just give him some time, maybe there’s something urgent he needs to do. Let’s just enjoy our meal and leave some food for him.”

Everyone dives in once the meat is cooked, and there’s a consensus that your fried rice is definitely worth all the hype. The laughter and teasing immediately start, and you wish Jungkook was here to enjoy it with you. You constantly glance at his villa, noting the dim lights, and you wonder what has him holed up inside this time, knowing he didn’t plan on working too much while he’s here.

It’s one hour later when you decide that he’s gone too long without having dinner, so you take portions of everything and set them on a tray.

“Wait, let me make him a drink. Hopefully that’ll convince him to come out,” Yohan says.

Managing to carry everything, you head towards Jungkook’s villa, and when he opens the door after your constant bell-ringing, he looks at you in surprise.

“The team’s been wondering when you were coming out,” you say. “You might be in there because of work, but I’m not fully convinced. Whatever it is, the food’s too delicious for you to not have a taste, so I brought you some.”

You raise the tray that you placed on the small table outside and flash him a smile. He nods in acknowledgement and takes it from you but you don’t leave just yet.

“I hope you’re not working anymore,” you say.

“I only did for a while,” he replies. “I… got a bit tired.”

“I’ve seen you workout in the morning and work all day after only having three hours of sleep, Jungkook. You wouldn’t get tired from just a jet ski ride and some scavenger hunt,” you raise an eyebrow.

He lets out a dry laugh before heading to the dining room. He leaves the door open so you follow him inside.

“I mean I’m socially tired. Isn’t that a thing?”

“Gee, I didn’t think that spending time with me outdoors drained your energy so much,” you frown.

Your playful pout tells him you’re teasing. He sure hopes it’s not what you really feel. It’s the opposite, in fact. He felt relieved of a lot of things during that hour that he walked around and breathed in the fresh air with you. And you both had moments - comforting glances, the shared silence… the fleeting touches that made him want more. You’re everything new and familiar and he wants to know how it’s like to have you close to him.

He knows it’s a desire he can’t act on, not just because he’s your superior but also because he can’t imagine you feeling a fraction of what he feels. It’s tempting to mistake your kindness for something more, and he’d fall into it if only hoping didn’t lead to disappointment. But like what Yoongi had said before, it’s how you naturally are, even as someone who prefers to be alone. Whatever type of friendship you offer is all that it is - friendship.

Jungkook clearly doesn’t deserve you. It’s not just because of the way he treated you at the beginning but because even until now, whenever he pulls away, you’re always the first one who reaches out. He’s scared that anything he does might push you away, and that’s the last thing he wants. He’ll keep you at a distance for as much as he can and for as long as you’re around. He can handle that, but losing you in any way has become his biggest fear.

That’s why he needed to be on his own after your time together in such a casual and comfortable environment. It’s easy to want that with you and to think that he can have it. Pulling away has always been his default when dealing with things he can’t control, and earlier, he just couldn’t control his mind and his heart.

But you’re here now, having knocked on his door like you always do, wondering if he’ll come out.

“I brought you dinner but I purposely gave you small servings so you’ll want more and leave your villa,” you explain.

“Half a cup of your fried rice?” He scowls. “That’s a crime.”

“I know. And you’ll run out if you don’t go outside,” you warn. “Are you planning on just staying here? Do-hyun’s right. It’s not a team dinner without you there.”

“I… I was planning to go out a bit later. It’s a different setting and I’m a little anxious,” he admits.

He looks away and you feel for him. You were the same in the beginning, too. It’s one thing to share meals with people in a work environment but it’s another when it’s more casual, where people are less filtered and guarded. But you had to try, and after spending time getting to know your colleagues, things got easier.

The team has adjusted to Jungkook but you suppose Jungkook hasn’t fully adjusted to them. Perhaps he was planning on sneaking in much later in the evening or using work as an excuse. But this is part of his function, and like you promised him early on, you want to help him with this aspect of his role.

“I’ll help you loosen up a bit,” you suggest. “I can have dinner with you here first and then we can go out once you’re ready.”

“Sounds good,” he agrees, even if he’d decided earlier that he’d keep his distance. “You can get your food outside. I’m not sharing mine.”

You laugh at how seriously he says the words.

“I know,” you say. “And by the way, Yohan made you that drink.”

“How’d he know I like highball?”

“A little birdie told him,” you shrug, feigning innocence.

You smile before walking out, with Jungkook reminding you to set aside some fried rice for him.

You take your plate and reason to the team that you and Jungkook will just discuss some work stuff and they buy it, saying they won't get drunk until you’re both back outside.

You return to the villa with your dish and a bottle of beer, immediately realizing that it’s new territory for you and Jungkook, too. Sure, you’ve spent some time together out of work, but not in a place and situation like this.

But you want to be there for him. You like that he looks to you for energy and support. On days when he’s distant, you want moments like right now to remind you of the times he needed you, that he wanted you around, even if it’s for a different reason.

It takes half an hour for Jungkook to ease his nerves. In that time, you talk about random things, like his favorite hawker centers in Singapore and the variety shows you watch on which days. You both tease each other, then compete on who gets less affected. You tell him it’s good preparation for when the team, in their drunken states, does the same. You assure him, though, that they won’t go below the belt but he also assures you that he’s a big boy and can handle it.

When he says he wants more fried rice, it becomes your cue to head outside. You’re thankful that other than Mr. Ri subtly smirking at you, no one else reacts uncomfortably. You and Jungkook just came from his villa alone, after all, but you suppose everyone’s too tired or too careful to say anything.

“I hope no one’s eaten my share of the fried rice,” Jungkook says as he sits across from you. “I was really looking forward to it.”

“Here, all yours, Mr. Jeon,” Yohan says as he hands him a bowl. “If it isn’t enough, just know that Do-hyun took one last scoop before we set this aside.”

“Traitor,” Do-hyun scowls at the younger man. “I couldn’t help it. It’s so good, right?” She turns to Jungkook now. “___ gatekeeps this! She says she’s too busy to make it and I only got her to do it now because I’m heartbroken.”

Jungkook smiles internally. You’ve made this for him a few times and it’s heartwarming to think that you had your reasons for doing so, knowing now that it’s not something you easily share.

“It’s way better than the one I make,” Jungkook says, glancing at you. “I can have this everyday.”

“You cook?!” Do-hyun basically yells.

“Uh, yeah. I lived on my own for years. How do you think I survived?” Jungkook asks.

“Paying people to do things for you,” Do-hyun shrugs.

It’s a line he’s heard you say before and neither of you are wrong. It’s normal to make that assumption and it’s also true. He had people to do pretty much everything for him when he was in Singapore. He has that option here in Seoul, too, but he’s found himself wanting less people in his space for long periods of time. You’re really the only one he doesn’t mind being around him.

The conversation shifts to what happened in the afternoon, and you all end up talking about each team’s scavenger hunt experience and the anticipation for the next day’s obstacle course and relay games. A few more shots and bottles of beer later, the vibe turns more serious, as Manager Lee’s question to Do-hyun about how she’s feeling turns into an emotional session where she asks what she’s supposed to do about the man she was seeing, wondering if it’s worth reaching out or just moving on from him.

Chin-sun shares a piece of her mind and so does Yohan. Manager Lee says that sometimes, people don’t know what they want and isolate themselves in response. The pieces of advice are a mix of being patient and forgetting about the man, and you choose to observe rather than give an opinion. It’s always easy to say something but things could be totally different once you’re the one experiencing it. You think Jungkook feels the same, as he stays quiet but listens earnestly.

“What do you think, Mr. Ri?” Do-hyun asks. “You’re the oldest one here and would probably have a lot to say.”

“I wish I did but I wouldn’t say I’ve made the best decisions when it comes to my love life,” Mr. Ri laughs. “I mean, I’ve only ever loved one woman but I let her go. And that was over 20 years ago; I haven’t loved anyone that way since. I don’t think I ever really stopped.”

You watch everyone’s faces turn from shocked to somber. Mr. Ri, having been CEO Jeon’s right-hand man for a long time, has a stable and commanding presence. Everyone knows him to be loyal and firm, yet there’s a warmth about him with how protective and dependable he is. They all know about his commitment to his job, but his faithfulness to one person is perhaps surprising; he was never one to show much emotion, after all. But then again, people make sacrifices in the name of love - sometimes they give everything up for it, sometimes it’s what they let go of.

“Twenty years is a long time,” Do-hyun sighs. “And you never stopped. Where does all that love go?”

“I have people I care about,” Mr. Ri answers. “It goes to them. Obviously it’s different but I learned that if I keep all that love to myself, it hurts even more. That’s how I learned to live with the decision I made. It’s how I learned to let her go.”

“That’s so sad,” Do-hyun sniffles. “Here I am, heartbroken about a guy I was dating for only a few months while you’ve been harboring these feelings for decades.”

“It’s not about the length of time you were together or apart,” Mr. Ri shakes his head. “When you give a part of yourself to someone, losing them always hurts. That part of you is gone because they took it with them and you can’t take it back. So your pain is valid. We all love and grieve and move forward differently,” he says. “It’s all terrifying but that’s the irony of life, I’ve learned. The thing we all want and can’t live without is the same thing that hurts us the most, whether we have it or not.”

There’s a beat of silence as everyone takes in the elder man’s words. They cut deep, as you know they come from a place of deep pain. You don’t want to ever go through something that hurts that much.

“I’m too emotional,” Do-hyun sighs, not wanting to spend the rest of the evening crying and having everyone feel bad for her, so she shifts her attention to something else. “I want something juicy.” She briefly looks at Jungkook, who looks blankly at her, so she turns to you instead. “I don’t know much about your love life, ___.”

“Yes, because I don’t have one,” you chuckle, masking the nervousness you feel because talking about its inexistence in front of the man plaguing your mind was not something you planned for this trip.

“But I know you did,” she insists. “I mean, why wouldn’t you?”

“I think what Do-hyun means is that you’re a highly capable, kind, and attractive woman,” Chin-sun chimes in. “Surely there have been prospects for a relationship, yes?”

“Like Mr. Min!” Yohan says now. “I always thought you two were cute together. Do-hyun and I would bet on it since she says you’re not the type to date co-workers.”

“And she’s right,” you say, glancing at Jungkook whose face you can’t read. “Yoongi and I are good friends. That’s all we ever were.”

“Well, I think he’s very nice and he’d treat you well,” Yohan sighs. “But I guess it might be weird to date someone you work with. I have friends I can match you with!”

“That’s not necessary,” you laugh. “I don’t think relationships are for everyone.”

“Why not?” Do-hyun asks.

You contemplate on whether or not you’re ready for this conversation, especially since it’s the type you usually just have with your best friends. You suppose it’s why your colleagues claim they don’t know much about you other than the way you work because you don’t really share much about your life, your dreams, or the things you wonder about. You’ve always preferred to keep things to yourself, always worried about how they will be received.

But everyone’s allowed themselves to be vulnerable tonight, and given the distance you’ve created between you and them all these years, you think the least you could do is be honest. It’s a team building thing anyway, and people bond over shared experiences during these times.

“I’ve… dated people but it was never serious,” you start. “I never really saw myself committing to them. Sure, I’d give my time and energy but nothing more. There’s so much courage in loving another person. I just don’t think I’ll ever be brave enough for that. I mean, it’s just hard to control. Once you start, you can’t stop; once you do it too much, you can’t pull back.”

“Sounds to me like you’re afraid that you won’t receive as much as you give,” Manager Lee states. “It’s how love is, though. It’s not always equal. But that’s the risk you take, that’s the trust you build. That even when what’s given isn’t the same, there’s still love there.”

“But isn’t that the scary part of it all?” You counter. “Like what Mr. Ri said, you give a part of yourself to someone when you love them but what if they don’t want that specific part of you? Or they did then one day they decide they don’t anymore? So they just retreat and leave you out in the open. They’re safe but you’re not, because you broke down your walls for them but they didn’t do the same.”

“That’s the thing about finding the right person, ___,” Manager Lee says, with all the wisdom of a man who’s loved and lost and loved again. “You either trust that they won’t do that, or you accept that they could and you’d still think that loving them is worth all the pain that losing them would cost. In the end, you get to decide. If you keep yourself from feeling it, how are you to know what’s worth it and what isn’t?”

You’ve heard versions of these words before, too. Soomin and Jimin, whose respective relationship ups and downs you’ve witnessed, have said themselves that committing yourself to someone takes a whole lot of faith in the person and in yourself. It’s because you’re giving them an opportunity to hurt you but you have to trust that they won’t. A lot of times, they do, so you then have to trust in your own ability to get over them.

The thoughts swim in your head and with your silence, Chin-sun gives you an encouraging smile. She’s a few years older than you and has experienced a lot when it comes to relationships, and you can sense that she understands your hesitation and your fear.

“It’s scary but when you find someone who makes you feel brave, that can make all the difference,” she says.

Admitting all this makes you feel exposed, especially when your eyes flit to Jungkook and you find him gazing at you, as if he’s trying to figure you out. You’re worried that any other move you make or things you say will lead him to uncovering your feelings that you acknowledge is beyond just physical attraction at this point.

You find yourself worrying about him constantly, wondering what he’s doing or if he’s getting proper rest. You’re always thinking about his smile and the sound of his laugh, and you imagine how much sweeter and softer they could get. You want him to be happy, to find his peace, to have something to look forward to. And you want to know what his touch feels and how it’s like to have him close.

You know all this is wrong because of who you are and who he is in this world, especially as you realize that you’ve never felt anything quite like this before. The fear makes itself even more known as it is embodied in the man across from you - so palpable and overwhelming that you can’t help but want more, and the more his eyes bore into you, the closer you are to giving in.

How are you to know what’s worth it and what isn’t if you don’t let yourself feel all of it? And if Jungkook makes you feel brave, then what if he’s the person you’re willing to break down your walls for?

You shake your head, knowing you can’t fall into the trap of your own mind. You need to be logical about this, but you also think that you’ve been that way all your life and it hasn’t brought you much happiness. At this point, you question what that looks like.

Maybe it looks like him. Maybe it’s also life without him.

How do people make decisions like this? You wonder. How do they know how much pain they can bear? And when does it become worth it?

“Wise words,” you manage to say after a tense silence. “You make it sound simple.”

“Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t,” Chin-sun says. “Human beings are complicated, ___, so are our emotions. Love makes people stupid. But it also makes us brave and happy and complete. And when it’s shared with the right person, god it feels so good.”

You’re able to get her to share about her own experience and remove the spotlight away from you. Manager Lee narrates his serendipitous love story as well, and the serious tone of the conversation turns into a giddy, enjoyable one. You find yourself constantly glancing at Jungkook, liking his soft smiles and giggles as the stories are told. He briefly meets your eyes during some moments though, and that’s when you look away.

The night ends when he announces that everyone should get some rest and prepare for tomorrow’s activities, so you all clean up and wish each other a good night. Your eyes linger on Jungkook as he walks back to his villa, and you turn away before he does the same, the yearning for him getting stronger as each day passes.

The sun shines beautifully over the lake as you lean on the railing overlooking the water. The clouds over the mountains look like the fog that cleared earlier, and the majestic way that the scenery is framed by the blue skies is absolutely stunning.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Jungkook hums from several meters next to you. “I never really bothered to appreciate this view before.”

“It is,” you say, turning to him as he continues to gaze at the scene before you while you gaze at him. If he notices from his periphery, he doesn’t say anything. “It’s breathtaking. I could take a picture but that wouldn’t give this justice.”

“I can try,” he says, reaching out to ask for your phone. “I’m good at this.”

You indulge him and watch as he finds the right angle to beautifully capture the surroundings. He asks if you want him to take another photo with you in it this time, and though you’re a little shy, you let him.

You warm at how natural your smile looks, realizing that you were focusing on his smile while he was taking the picture. The view looks surreal but you’re in there, and it’s a reminder of where you are and who you’re with. Jungkook remarks that it’s a nice shot before turning back to the water, and while you wish you were braver and had asked to take one with him so you could hold onto this memory, you know you’ll look at this photo of you and also remember what you’re feeling. There’s so much calm and clarity, and you know it’s not just because of the mountains.

The tension and fear that filled you up last night have slowly turned into a sense of relief. The distance that once bothered you about Jungkook now gives you comfort. No matter how far or unattainable he may be, you still feel his presence - his warmth is in the peacefulness of a park at night, or in the calmness of the lake, or in the safety of your neighborhood library. You never imagined that one Jeon Jungkook would ever make you feel this way, and if he’s someone who makes you be brave to feel something new, maybe you owe it to him and to yourself to be brave to pursue that, too.

Your thoughts are disrupted when Yohan yells that breakfast is ready. You all gather in the common dining room for some dumpling soup before a short planning session to give you time to digest. At 9:30, the first activity begins, with all six of you divided into two teams to finish an obstacle course.

It gets competitive when you’re teamed up with the younger ones, as Do-hyun and Yohan attempt to trash talk the others. They give it their all, especially when they see Jungkook dominating the kayaking part of the course, but the three of you manage in the end. A part of you feels that the other team just wanted to make the younger ones win only to use it against them later on, but the fun and excitement are what matter.

You enjoy some meat and stew for lunch and have another planning session before doing the afternoon games, which has Jungkook on the losing team again. He comes up with a last minute individual game that gives Manager Lee the chance to win this time, and the afternoon ends with all of you, excluding him, winning prizes you can enjoy after this.

The free time before dinner has you reading your book by the lake and then talking with Chin-sun in the hammock while the rest of the team enjoy the sunset and some beer. You’re thankful that this time, Mr. Ri was tasked to handle all the activities instead of you, and so you’re able to focus on spending time with your colleagues.

You grill meat again for dinner, roast marshmallows over the campfire, and passionately sing off-key in the karaoke. But unlike last night, people decide to go to bed early, definitely tired from today’s physical activities.

You’re exhausted as well but somehow, the pull of the cold evening air is too strong, so you decide to walk to the main house and grab a bottle of beer. When you walk out to the deck, you’re surprised to find Jungkook seated on a lounge chair outside of his villa, glass in hand as he looks up at the sky.

Jungkook savors the crisp breeze, knowing that once he gets back to Seoul, all he’ll have is the musty air and the buzzing sounds of the city. He wants to remember this weekend and the peace he felt. Maybe he should’ve taken a photo of the view this morning like he did for you; he at least has the one of you in it that he took ingrained in his mind. You looked so calm and happy; he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face then.

He’s trying to keep as much of today in his memory as he can, knowing how hectic it’s going to be when you all get back. Other than the amount of fun he didn’t expect to have with the team, he enjoyed seeing a different side of you.

You were competitive but encouraging, probably not the most athletic but definitely capable. He could pick out your squeals and laughter and he thought they were sweet and hypnotic, and he appreciated how thoughtful you were during dinner, making sure everyone had enough to eat, especially him. You would catch his attention to ask if his meat is okay or if he’s feeling comfortable; he hated that it all ended so soon. Though he shouldn’t, he wanted more time with you. It’s different being out here than it is in the office or even in his home. Here, he’s unguarded and a lot more free, and he’s able to make more sense of how you affect him; in a way, he’s able to truly feel all that you make him feel.

There’s so much of you in his mind but you’re not around, so he stands up to head to bed already, hoping he’d at least see you in his dreams. But when he turns towards the door, he sees a silhouette in the main house’s deck. And as if the universe is giving him some sign, he finds you there, standing by the post with a beer in hand. You lift the bottle in cheers and he lifts his drink in return, sipping every last drop he could.

He sees you grab another bottle from the outdoor fridge then place it on the coffee table, an invitation to join you that he’s glad you make. He would’ve been too hesitant to make the move, unsure of your willingness to be in his presence.

“Can’t sleep?” You ask as he nears the couch.

He sits next to you, the short distance a little too tempting to close.

“Sort of,” he hums. “And you?”

“Not really. I don’t get much of the outdoors back in my tiny apartment,” you chuckle.

“Fair enough. The weather’s been nice, fortunately. Not like the last time we were out of town, yeah?”

“Yeah, fortunately,” you shyly look at him, not saying more, perhaps unsure if it’s something he’s ready to talk about.

“It’s okay,” he assures you. “I’ve accepted you having witnessed my extreme moment of weakness. You were patient and understanding even when I was angry and I… I don’t know if I’ve thanked you enough for that.”

“You have, and I understand it all. But Jungkook, what happened at that guest house is not weakness,” you insist. “That’s… dealing with a painful memory.”

“That wasn’t dealing, ___. I was suffering. That's… that’s what happens when someone doesn’t know how to move on from something.”

“Does it happen a lot?” You wonder.

“Well, the nightmares tend to happen when the thunder is really loud,” he says. “Otherwise I just get really anxious, like when it rains, my brain just expects things to get bad.”

“What do you do when it does?”

“I don’t know how I manage, actually,” he answers. “I usually forget and just remember that I wake up dry in my bed. I mean, I’d be sweating but not soaked. I guess that night, I was just too nervous because the rain was so strong, we were on the road. And I was somewhere completely unfamiliar with you. I… I think that made it worse.”

Your silence prompts him to clarify. “I mean, I didn’t want you to see me that way, that’s why it was worse,” he states. “It’s not a side of me I’m proud of. Which is silly thinking about it now because you’ve seen a lot of sides of me that I’m not proud of. All of them, actually.”

“So you’re not proud of the side of you that protected me? That made sure I was safe? That rushed to find me when I was stuck in the rain?” You ask.

“It’s what any decent human being would do,” he dismisses. “Those just probably stand out because I wasn’t exactly one in the beginning.”

“Well, you had Mr. Ri drive me. You’d make me go home early sometimes, too.”

“___, again, that’s what a decent boss should be doing. It’s the bare minimum. You deserve more kindness than you’re receiving. I… I should have been that to you from the start.”

“We’ve moved past that, remember? It’s all okay. I managed, I stayed. And I’m glad I did. I got to learn so much from you,” you assure him. “And you deserve more kindness than you’re receiving, too.”

Jungkook hums. He wouldn’t have thought that he’d be able to freely talk to you about all this - about how he was before and how he’s been recently. And like always, you’re gentle with him. He could only hope you’re as gentle as you are with yourself, something he doesn’t know how to do.

“I… I hope you’ve found ways to cope with all that you went through,” he says, turning away from you in shame. “I… I’m still learning.”

“It’s a process, and it’s not an easy one. No one really tells you how to do it. You kind of just… find your way,” you share. “But just think that the thunder doesn’t last long. It’s going to pass. So maybe when it starts raining, you can do what I did. Just cover your ears to block out the sounds. All we can do sometimes is shield ourselves from it, you know? It would scare us a little less.”

“I don’t even remember how you did it,” he admits. “I felt so out of it that night.”

“But did it help?” You ask.

He nods in response. “I wasn’t alone. I think that was the first time in a long time.”

“When you are, just do what I do,” you say, turning towards him and closing the distance to cover his ears with your hands. “Edge of the palms or your fingers then press tightly. The hollowness will drown out the sounds until they stop.”

Jungkook’s eyes swim in yours. He can’t tell you that he doubts it’d work without you, since your comforting look and your calm voice are what made him pull through. But still, he knows that imagining you’re there would definitely help.

“Edge of the palms or your fingers then press tightly,” he repeats, almost like a whisper. “Got it.”

You smile and it’s like a spell for him, as he mindlessly puts his hands over yours and slowly brings them down. He’s so lost in you that he only realizes he’s still holding your hands when you look down, so he immediately pulls away.

“Who taught you how to do that?” He asks, masking his embarrassment.

“My mom,” you answer, shifting back on your seat and looking out at the horizon. “My dad copped out before he knew I existed and she was too heartbroken to ask for him back. It took a while but she eventually found another man. I was pretty young then. He was okay, but then he lost his job and things went downhill from there.”

Jungkook sees the way your face falls and he already knows his heart is going to break for you.

“He would drink a lot and they’d fight all the time. He’d yell and yell, and then yell some more,” you narrate. “Mom would make me hide in the closet or under the bed just so I’d hear less of it. Thunder used to scare me, too; it sounded like his banging on the wall when he’d scream at her but eventually, I realized the roar drowns him out so I welcomed it. But I would just cover my ears and think of happy thoughts like she said. Sometimes she’d come to me and do it like I did with you. I always liked that better.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, wanting to take your hand back and comfort you in any way. “You shouldn’t have experienced that.”

“Life isn’t fair sometimes,” you sigh, having accepted the hand you were dealt. “My mom and I got out and she found someone who loves and respects her. And we just found ways to deal with the pain, you know? We could only bury it for so long. And so covering my ears just became a habit as I grew up. It was a way to battle all that.”

“I’ve seen you do that a few times.”

“It’s like a general coping mechanism of some sort,” you explain. “Sometimes the loud sounds come from inside, too. Thoughts of not being good enough, of being selfish, of not deserving of happiness… I mean, they come from others but they stay in my head. I have to cover my ears to stop them from overwhelming me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, looking away in shame when you turn to him questioningly. “You did that several times during my first weeks. I know I… I said things that hurt you.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It was hard for everyone and like I said, I forgive you. But I've been told worse things,” you shake your head. “You’ve heard some of them.”

“You didn’t deserve those either.”

“I know. That’s why I walked away. It’s easy to do that when you don’t give much of yourself to them. And I do it all the time,” you say. “I never really stay.”

“Would you stay if you found the right person?”

You remember a conversation with him months ago, about people being temporary and how they’d only stay if they had a reason to. It’s safe to say that finding the right person would be your reason, but that also makes it harder.

“I probably would,” you respond. “And I think that scares me, too.”

“Why?” He asks.

“What if I would stay for them? But they won’t stay for me?”

Jungkook leaves your question unanswered, knowing there’s nothing he can say that would sufficiently validate your fear nor comfort you about it. His own past relationship doesn’t give him any right - Chaerin left him but he gave her all the reasons to; she walked away and he did the same. Sometimes he wonders if she’d lost him before he lost her. He also doesn’t know if he loved her so much that he let her go, or if he didn’t love her enough to make her stay. Maybe it was neither. Or maybe he was just too scared - that she’d reject him, or that he wouldn’t be able to love her better if he she came back, he doesn’t know. He was never brave enough to find out.

He lets the silence linger, prompting you to remark that the conversation is too sad for a night as pretty as tonight.

“We should probably head to bed, though,” he suggests. “We still have stuff in the morning then a long ride home. I don’t have to remind you how hectic this next week is gonna be.”

“You just did,” you frown, earning you a laugh. “But I agree. Thank you for keeping me company tonight.”

Your shy smile makes his breath hitch. He wants this to go on for longer but he knows he might just let his guard down even more, maybe share about his other pains and frustrations and worries about life. Maybe he’ll end up moving closer to you, close enough that he’d smell your classic rose scent that makes his mind feel hazy. Maybe he’ll want more, and he reminds himself of all the boundaries he shouldn’t cross, and that crossing them may push you away.

So he says goodnight and you both walk towards your respective villas, looking back one more time before heading inside.

You’re all he thinks about for the rest of the night. His gaze follows you all through the next morning, too. He misses your presence when he leaves for Seoul in his own car, and he’s back to being a giddy mess when you message him, saying you hope he got home safely.

It almost feels like the weekend was a dream and when Monday comes, he has to remind himself that he’s back to reality and that includes how he should be when it comes to you. Those days remain in his memory, but when you enter his apartment that morning with the softest smile, and when you meet his eyes as you fix his necktie, he knows it wasn’t a dream. And that somehow, just like him, you wish it didn’t have to end.

It’s been over a week since the team building and you haven’t really moved on from all that happened during those three days. There was the joy of being with your colleagues and the companionship you felt thankful to have. There was also the tranquility of the lake and the refreshing environment that rejuvenated you, making you wish you were back there, especially as you sort through the printed photos from your disposable camera and see the pretty views that you already miss.

There’s that photo you took of Jungkook by the stream that you’ve been staring at, another reason why you want to go back to that time. His eyes are warm and his smile is soft and subtle, unforced and just as captivating. It’s quite calming, and it’s the image that you hold onto later that Thursday evening when you’re piled under loads of paperwork. It’s past 6PM but you can’t afford to leave yet, and the only good thing about it is that he’s still around, and you get to sneak in some glances through the window.

You’ve become that person, smitten by her attractive boss and definitely stupid enough to be overwhelmed by her emotions. You haven’t stopped thinking about him. Everyday that you enter his space, the desire to know him more gets stronger; with every common place you step into, you keep wishing he’d ask you to stay close, that he’d invite you to somewhere reserved for those he lets in. Every time your fingers brush, you’re reminded of the way his hands felt on top of yours and how you wanted him to keep them there, and every look you share makes you hope that you’re not the only one in this mess of emotions. And that if you’ll give in, so would he.

You’re not quite sure what he feels, but if his shy smiles and the way he intensely looks at you before looking away mean anything, then you could at least say that there’s definitely something there. You just don’t know if he would acknowledge it or if like you, it’s gotten too strong that you’re unable to think clearly or act rationally.

Finally done with the last item on your task list for today, you start to pack up. It’s at the same time that Jungkook exits from his room to return a portfolio he took earlier and place it on your desk. You’re about to pick it up but he says you should just leave it there and fix it tomorrow.

But you disregard him. You retrieve the stool and attempt to return the portfolio on the top shelf. It’s a little heavy but you manage; you even start fixing the others that moved because Jungkook’s been getting them these past days. You’re about to step down when you hear his heavy sigh.

“I told you to do that tomorrow,” he groans, walking towards you.

With your back turned, you reply, “I like starting my days with a tidy desk, okay?”

“It’s just one portfolio,” he points out.

“It still takes up so much space. It makes my table look messy.”

“You still could’ve waited. Or you could’ve asked me to help,” he insists, continuing to reprimand you as you try to step down the stool.

He’s a little close, blocking your view of the floor, and that’s why you miss a step and trip again, your squeal echoing throughout the empty floor. You think your heart racing is about to join in on the sounds, too, as it quickens when you realize that Jungkook has caught you by your waist, his tight grip on you sending shivers down your spine.

He’s gotten even closer, as you look up and find his scrunched eyebrows and worried eyes staring back at you. The tension starts to rise but you manage to tell him that you’re fine after he asks if you’re hurt.

“I’m sure,” you tell him. “You caught my fall. Again.”

You giggle and that’s what makes him let out a laugh as well. Your left hand holds onto the shelf but his hands remain on you. He’s still a breath away but you suddenly don’t mind, as your right hand mindlessly makes its way to rest on his arm. At this moment, this feels right. You’re all alone in your little bubble with him where you’re all he sees and he’s all you can breathe in.

His bergamot scent wafts through your nose. You can count his eyelashes and see the scar on his cheek that you never noticed. He’s even more breathtaking up close, and as if all reason evaporates from your body, you don’t pull away. You want him just like this.

On second thought, you want him even closer.

“You’re a clumsy woman, aren’t you?” He says, his voice low and deep. “This isn’t the first time that I’m breaking your fall.”

“Well, if you would just be quiet while I’m attempting to go down, then that wouldn’t be a problem,” you breathily giggle, inching the tiniest bit forward.

“Well, if you just listened to me the first time, then you wouldn't have to climb up there,” he responds, earning him a playful roll of your eyes. “You’re a stubborn one, too.”

“So I’ve heard,” you match his teasing. “Can't help it sometimes.”

“So you acknowledge it?” He raises an eyebrow in intrigue.

“Yeah, I guess,” you say much more nervously now, meeting his eyes. It’s like you’re hypnotized again, caught in some spell where being in his presence makes you honest and uninhibited. “I mean, I feel things I shouldn’t feel and want people I shouldn’t want,” you add. “Doesn’t that make me stubborn?”

“What’s stopping you from feeling them? From having them?” He asks, his voice remaining low and his eyes, even more piercing and desperate now as they stare back at you.

His thumbs lightly caress your waist and his touch electrifies you through the thin material of your blouse. There’s so much to say and it’s way more complicated, just as your feelings for him are. You can’t help but eye his lips, soft and pink, and the desire to know what they taste like intensifies, prompting you to nibble your own.

“What’s stopping me?” You pant now, your gaze flitting from his eyes back to his lips, with him doing the same. “The ways of the world. And some… boundary that pulls me back, a line that I don’t know he’s ready to cross for me.”

The words actualize your fears the moment you say them. You know all the reasons why wanting him is wrong. But there’s a small part of you that wants to give in, and it’s terrified that he wouldn’t, that he’d dismiss what you feel and pull away. The way he’s been with you and the way he’s holding you right now spark that sliver of hope you have that he feels the same way, but it’s also the same moment that he lets you go, perhaps realizing that he’s not willing to take the risk the way you are.

He releases you from his hold and steps back, creating distance, and you suddenly feel bare - exposed and unguarded without his touch. He looks at you in panic, in apology, in fear, as if he’d had some sense knocked into him, as if he awakened from some spell that pushed him close to you, only to realize that that’s a place he can’t go.

“I—”

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

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atrwriting · 10 months

Text

more, more, more — carmy x reader

carmen berzatto x coworker!reader

listen to me. this man? this man?? so fucking slutty. so fucking slutty i can’t even think straight. i am absolutely AGHAST at how little writing there is of this man online. absolutely OUTRAGEOUS. he looks like that and none of us have done his character justice?? DISGRACEFUL.

i wrote this in direct response to how angry i am at how little there is.

as always, warnings… SMUT!, alcohol consumption, alcohol consumption with sex, smoking, p in v penetration, work relationships, overstimulation, carmen berzatto being an absolute mind blowing fuck on a table i mean in bed

also, minors fuck RIGHT the fuck off

barely edited we die like men

i stole that joke don’t come for me

anyway....

you didn’t really know how it happened.

you were once an unemployed law student, scared of drowning in bills, and eagerly awaiting a call back from anyone that would hire you — when she called.

natalie berzatto.

her voice was warm and comforting on the phone, and very eager to have you come in. she was relaying important information to you on the phone, and while you grabbed bits and pieces, it was hard to focus on anything else besides the sheer excitement of finally having a job. the job would be stressful, sure — but at least you wouldn’t be broke and stressed.

unfortunately, your first couple of shifts were a mess and a half. you took instructions well, and performed well, but in the hospitality business — that means nothing when an oven burner is out, a dishwasher doesn’t show up for a shift, richie starts barking, or when carmen’s upset.

carmen.

fucking carmen.

while soft spoken, there was nothing that could compare to the look of approval in his eye when you had completed a task to his standard. most people would consider the job of a hostess useless, or not a job at all — something to laugh at, but carmen? no. that man took your job very seriously, as he knew what it meant to provide the full experience to the customer.

however, when something was lacking in the kitchen and that experience was interrupted… carmen took the look of approval, almost gratefulness, away and replaced it with something that everyone felt like they had to walk around shards of glass.

when he was angry? oh, fuck… that could ruin anyone’s night.

the worst of it happened when his sister unexpectedly went into labor. two weeks early.

carmen had left the place screaming, and, in the process, had also left his things at the restaurant, including his jacket, wallet, keys, the lot — so to be nice you went to drop it off at his place. worried that he might be at the hospital, you texted him.

you: hey, going out for a drink. saw you forgot your stuff at the restaurant so i grabbed it because you’re otw. you home?

carmen: oh shit thanks. i’m home

so there you stood. at his front door, his stuff in hand.

you quickly adjusted your long hair, worried about your appearance. it was weird to show up to carmen’s place in your regular attire — seeing as though your regular attire on a night with your friends was black flare jeans, a tight black long sleeve v-neck that showed off your cleavage — you were concerned that he might be concerned with who he exactly employed. however, his niece was just born… he had more important things to worry about.

so you knocked.

and barely waited.

carmen was barely at the door a few seconds later before you came face to face with the man who constantly let exhaustion ride on his back.

“you good?” you immediately asked, handing over his stuff.

he nodded. “yeah, uh — thanks.”

“you look like you could use a drink,” you laughed. “want to come with?”

he shook his head, the corners of his lips somewhat curving upwards. “nah. day was hectic. you want one? come in — for a drink?”

you smiled. “i don’t want to intrude, especially after the berzatto family excitement of the day.”

“i owe you,” he sighed. “but don’t let me hold you up if your friends are waiting.”

you smiled. “one drink won’t hurt.”

one drink definitely did not hurt.

drink two and three definitely didn’t, either.

how much carmen made you laugh definitely made your stomach hurt, though. in a good way.

“you’re killing me,” you cackled. “who knew quiet carmen berzatto was such a good host.”

“you can call me carmy, y’know,” he spoke, saying his cigarette before pouring you another drink. “everyone else does.”

you shrugged. “you’re pretty professional in the kitchen. didn’t want to impose.”

“i don’t think you could impose a day in your life,” he chuckled. “i think you’re the only one that knows boundaries in that fuckin’ place.”

“says the mysterious one,” you giggled. “the only reason any of us know your nicknames is because richie likes to share your baby stories.”

“speaking of babies…” he took a drag. “thank you for helping sugar out so much. she told me to tell you how much she appreciates it.”

you shrugged. “‘s nothing.”

“nothing?” he scoffed. “you keep her sane. definitely keep me sane.”

“always got your back, chef,” you giggled.

he smiled, and ashed his cigarette once more. his long, thick fingers stretched around the circumference of his glass. one fingertip tapped against the glass and a few droplets of condensation fell to his countertop.

you were twisted around in your seat to face carmen, eyeing his attractive hands. in your peripheral vision, you saw him lift his head to cock it towards you and stare at you. the longing look sent shivers up your spine, but you gazed at him through your long lashes as you waited for his response.

“you do,” he spoke. “always have. we were lucky to find you. i - i was, i mean.”

“more like i was lucky get a call from natalie,” you laughed. “it’s so hard to find a well paying job nowadays.”

“heard,” he rasped. “you happy at the bear?”

“very,” you replied. “staff keeping you happy, chef?”

he chuckled. “when i’m not made to scream, yeah.”

“that’s fair. we’re lucky to have you.”

there was only so many things you could think of to say to carmen before you began to consider that you were imposing. you slapped your hands against your thighs — a implicit signal it was time for you to go. he led you to the door, where he reached out for your coat. you smiled at him, thanked him for the drink, and slid your arms through the jacket as he held it out for you.

you don’t know what caused you to, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was you — or maybe it was how good carmen smelled — but you glanced up and over your shoulder at the polite man behind you.

you didn’t have anything to say. frankly, you said something last — it was his turn. however, carmen’s sense of societal expectations started and ended with the door to the kitchen. but there, by his front door? basically holding you by the shoulders, and staring back down at you? he had nothing to say.

however… his eyes could share a thousand things about him. more specifically, emotions. carmen’s eyes showed exhaustion, a bit of dehydration, to keep it a buck, but there was so much intensity in those crystal irises. they were a stunning, clear blue… but with the way carmen was gazing down at you, there appeared to be no clear thought in his head.

and he did nothing.

so you could do nothing.

you found yourself disappointed at his actions, or rather — lack thereof.

you simply smiled, and went to turn away. you reached for his door knob, when you felt the slightest brush of calloused fingers against the skin of your wrist. the feeling shocked you, pricking at your nerves, but you didn’t stop until you felt those fingers enclose around the circumference of your wrist.

like they had with the glass, moments ago.

you turned back, letting your long and thick eyelashes ghost over your line of sight. all you could see was a frozen chef, standing tired, but staring back at you.

when his gaze fell to the floor, you stepped closer. he glanced up.

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you softly asked, “what’s up, carmy?”

“first time i had someone over.” his parted lips closed so he could swallow, and his eyes drifted between your lips and the floor. the words were right there, on his tongue. they were so close you could feel them, taste them. he replied, “i, um… don’t want it to end, uh — i guess.”

you smiled and turned around in place, barely inches from his face. his breaths were pushing past his lips in small, light puffs that hit the tip of your chin. it was like he was conscious of everything he was emitting; his vibe, where he was looking, even his fucking exhales. he was cautious and frozen and all you wanted was for him to be relaxed, or as close to, as he was moments ago.

“already drank you out of house and home, carmy. what else you got in mind?”

his eyes widened, but his voice stayed level. “what else i got in mind?”

you hummed in agreement with a coy smile on your face. you folded your lip between your teeth and stepped backwards. carmy glanced at your hips and feet hesitantly, shifting his weight slightly. while his eyes were trained on you, his parted lips quivered slightly which told you that there was still some nervousness lingering in him. with every step you took, carmy took one as well. you kept stepping backwards, and carmy kept stepping forwards, until your back was pressed against the wall.

carmy’s lips weren’t slightly quivering anymore. there was no hesitation in his figure when he leaned down slightly and rested a flat palm against the drywall above your head. his breath was hitting you on both cheeks — as if they weren’t hot enough already. inside you were screaming. you were screaming, and screaming, and screaming and all you wanted to do was grab both sides of his face and smash your lips to his. you wanted to, but you wouldn’t. you wanted to see if he would.

“you know,” you spoke, raising your back. your cold palm pressed against his cheek. it was burning — almost as bad as yours. “even though you’re the boss… never seen you actually taste anything.”

“no?” he rasped. the gruffness in his voice pricked at your cheeks and went straight to your core. “and what do you want me to taste, sweetheart?”

you released your grip from his cheek and brought your hand down to your face. with a manicured nail, you tapped the plumpness of your bottom lip. you stared into his eyes — a dare.

“fuck.”

with his free hand, carmen wrapped your hand in his own and pressed it to the middle of his chest. he held it there, pressed against his heart, and surprisingly it was the exact spot you wanted to hold him. you wanted to hear — no, feel his heart that was beating slightly faster than normal. when carmen finally pressed his chapped lips against yours… you saw stars.

the alcohol coursing through your veins made you melt into the man before you. his hand on the wall slid down until he was rubbing the side of your neck, and then gripping the base of your skull. his fingers, his beautiful, skillful fingers threaded through your hair like it was one of his pieces of art and he was creating something. he twisted your strands until he had your head bent back, practically supported by the heavy palm of his hand. the motion made you gasp into his mouth. carmen swallowed it whole. every. last. bit.

“y’taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he moaned against your lips.

you hummed with him. the warmth of his body engulfed your body into his until the moment started and ended with carmen anthony berzatto. you could taste the liquor on his tongue that danced with your own. with every breath he took, bits of smoke would linger between the two of you. it went straight to your head, swallowing your senses whole. you didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the cigarettes, or carmen himself, but you felt like you were swimming.

“this okay, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling away for a second. a thumb of his stroked the skin of your cheek as he stared at you, waiting for feelings of regret from you. “d-do you want me to stop?”

“please don’t stop, carmy,” you gasped, pulling him back into. “you’re perfect.”

you didn’t expect that would make carmen slide his hands down your body and grasp the back of your thighs. his fingertips pressed into your skin, pulling your legs up and around his waist. you squealed against his teeth and couldn’t believe you had found yourself in this situation.

it’s not that carmen wasn’t handsome, no. the man was drop dead gorgeous in a tortured artist way, and you always had a thing for men that looked like they needed a hug but wouldn’t admit it. but… he was your boss.

what could you do about that? it’s not like you could stop now. even if you had told him to stop, got your shit and left — the damage was done. you both had crossed the boundaries, and you were going to reap what you sewed.

in that case… might as well have a little fun with it.

he had placed you on a neighboring table. his large hands gripped the flesh of your thighs and you couldn’t help but whine into his embrace. his tongue glided over your lips and teeth and with your tongue in the messiest way possible and all you could chant in your head was more, more, more.

and that’s when you found yourself pulling at the bottom of his t-shirt.

he stepped back slightly, throwing his shirt over his head. his swollen lips were parted, and his eyes searched your face. you found your chest rising and falling with anticipation, and realized you should’ve been more concerned with how he was dealing with all of this.

“you okay, carmy?” you whispered.

he nodded, letting a few fingertips of his ghost over the skin of your cheek. his crystal eyes glanced down to your lips.

“we can stop, you know,” you whispered again. “it’s okay.”

he nodded again before dipping his head down to the side of your neck. his plump lips left wet kisses on the sensitive skin and you moaned into the open air. you widened the space between your knees, allowing for carmen to wedge himself between your thighs.

“you’re always talking such good care of me, sweetheart, so good to me,” he rasped against your throat, sucking on the skin. “but all i want to do right now is have my fingers inside you. y’gonna let me?”

“yes, carmy,” you whined. “yes please.”

“such a polite girl f’me.” carmy’s mouth was attacking your throat. moans escaped passed your lips like carmy was squeezing them from you, claiming them. his fingers traveled down the front of your clothes and stopped at the button of your jeans. sliding it open, carmen berzatto slipped his perfect hands into your jeans.

“right there, please,” you gasped once his fingers found your bundle of nerves.

his fingers dipped into your core and spread it all over where you needed him most. warmth began to spread through your hips and your knees widened for him. his drew circles different ways until he noticed that when he drew counterclockwise circles, you bit your lip and your eyes appeared to involuntarily flutter shut. you felt carmy smirk against the skin of your neck.

“what made you this wet, baby?” he hummed, sucking at the base of your throat.

“you, carmy,” you whined. “felt it as soon as i saw you when i first walked in. needed you so badly.”

he smirked again. “so bringing my things wasn’t of the purest intentions?”

heat rose to your cheeks with the sensual actions that were taking place below the belt and carmy’s accusation. you grew worried at what he would say if you said no, that you honestly just wanted to help him out… but if carmy wanted to play like that, you could play.

“n-no,” you whined as the pleasure began to spread throughout your whole body.

carmy was holding you so close to him. it was like he was your support — supporting you through such a physically vulnerable moment. your legs were practically shaking at this point, trying to take everything he was giving you and not start sobbing. you were grabbing at any piece of him you, wanting to kiss him — but he wouldn’t let you. fucking bastard.

“good,” he stated, staring you dead in the eyes. your mouth fell open at his response, a pant pushing passed your lips. “i don’t have the purest of intentions when i do this.”

carmen berzatto slid two long, thick fingers inside you ever so slowly. the motion pulled small moans out of you like you were a pathetic mess of a puddle and the sun rose and set with him. you felt his fingertips press against the upper wall inside you, while another finger worked at your clit, and all you could do was hold onto him tighter.

“it feels so good, carmy,” you whined. “i love your fingers so, so much.”

“yeah, baby?” he breathed against your ear. “you wanna cum f’me?”

“faster, please, i will,” you sobbed. you fucking sobbed as the tapping motion inside you hastened. “oh god — oh my fucking god —“

“that’s it, sweetheart? that’s what you needed?”

“yes, yes — fucking — fuck — yes.”

“f-fuck —“ he groaned broken, incoherent phrases against your throat. his breath was hot and heavy on your skin and all you could think about was how good he felt inside of you, and also how badly you wanted all of him inside you. interrupting your thoughts, he spoke, “show me how good it feels, baby. finish all over my fingers f’me.”

that broke you.

that fucking broke you.

it was like a shock of lightning hit you straight in your core and the power from the strike spread throughout your entire body. every muscle of yours went taut as you arched your chest into carmy’s.

with his expert hands, he fucked you through the orgasm. “that’s it, baby. that’s it. keep cumming for me.”

it was like carmen berzatto knew everything to say to make you shatter. you couldn’t even breathe — all you could do was give into the spreading feeling of bliss and hold your breath while it washed over you. it was wave, after wave, after wave of mind-numbing orgasm and carmen held you through all of it.

“pretty girl.”

“i know, baby. you’re such a sweet girl f’me.”

“that’s it, sweetheart. take it.”

once the waves finished hitting you, your chest was rising and falling heavily. carmen peppered light kisses along your neck, being gentle as to your state, but you were having none of it. you reached for his belt.

“greedy.”

you smiled lazily at him. “any objections, chef?”

he smirked at you, letting his fingers ghost over your sensitive core. a shiver ran up and down your spine at the almost painful action. “be careful — or i’ll make you cum again.”

you knew he wasn’t joking. you let out a slight giggle before you dragged the zipper and his boxers down. freeing his cock, you pumped his shaft.

carmy was once dominantly kissing your neck and whispering mean things in your ear, but now he was using the crook of your neck to support his forehead.

“you have such a pretty cock, carmy,” you whispered in his ear. there was something so comforting about being intimate with a man where you both could be vulnerable, and you weren’t sure if you would ever let it go. you want him everywhere he would let you have him. “i don’t know if i want it in my mouth or inside me more.”

he chuckled at that, crooning back into your embrace when you would touch a very sensitive part of him. “dirty girl — you’re so fuckin’ evil.”

you were worried the friction was becoming too much for him, but you didn’t want to raise your hand to your own lips, so you swiped some of the juices from your core and used it to lubricate the skin of carmy’s cock. it was a quick motion — you didn’t think he’d notice, and plus his eyes were most likely closed.

but when he spoke, you froze.

“do-do that again.” his voice was rough with lust. “do that again for me.”

you were hesitant at first, but you decided to make a show of it. you slowly dragged two fingers up the length of your slit and rubbed a very slow circle around the circumference of your clit. you gasped at the sensitivity, slightly jumping at the touch.

“fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned, breath humid on your neck.

you smirked at his response and reached for his cock. your hand slipped along the smooth skin of his cock, drawing a deep groan from carmen. the poor man was so sensitive — almost aching from what giving everything he had to you previously felt like.

“so big, carmy,” you breathed. “so big and pretty.”

“y’know what would be prettier?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw line. “watching you put it inside you. can you do that, baby?

you smiled at him devilishly. carmy’s hands shoved the rest of your jeans down your legs and flung them somewhere in the room. your pussy was aching — dripping for the man before you. the sensitivity had left you, no longer prickling at your nerve endings. all that was left was the want for more — anything carmy had to give you.

“please,” you whined, rubbing the head of his cock against your glistening folds.

“i love when you beg f’me,” he groaned. “such a good fuckin’ girl.”

both of your lines of sight drifted down to the view of your hips. you both watched in awe as you lined carmy up with your entrance as he pushed his hips towards you.

the throws of passion and want for carmy were intense, sure — but so was the want to enjoy this while he could. he pushed in the tip of his cock, groaning slightly as your tight hole encased him. you whines at the barely filled feeling — so empty, needing more. carmy, however? carmy didn’t care. he wanted to feel every push and pull of your muscles between your hips.

carmy kept his eyes turned down at your pussy and you swallowed more and more of him inside you. he gripped the flesh of your waist, fingertips digging into you. your own hands were splayed our flat against the cool countertop of the table — a direct juxtaposition of the boiling feeling that electrified the top of every inch of your skin. you whined as carmy took his time with his thrusts, pulling back every so often when he felt resistance, and then pushing back in ever so slightly, yet slightly farther, each time.

“please, more,” you gasped, folding your lip between your teeth. “i want all of you.”

“baby isn’t patient, huh?” he asked, continuing with his motions. “gotta have it all, when you want it?”

“i can’t be teased right now,” you sobbed. it was pathetic how needy you were, but fucking christ did it turn carmy on.

“this what you want, baby?” he asked, pushing into you deeper.

your walls were squeezing him like he was the only thing that existed to you. the burn at your entrance was something so bittersweet, something so delicious — you didn’t know how you were going to keep control and make this special for him as well, let alone how you weren’t going to cum right then. but you didn’t care — you didn’t have the strength to care.

“yes, carmy — please,” you begged, bucking your hips into him weakly. “fuck — your cock feels so good.”

“yeah, baby?” he pressed into deeper. “so impatient you can’t handle it slow?”

“i want you to fuck me, carm,” you bit with lust dripping from every word. “fuck me — use me however you want — please.”

fuck.

that set him off.

carmy was a patient and low maintenance man, sure, out of necessity and convenience mostly. however, when he had the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, with a dirty mouth to match, talking back to him, and begging him to be selfish?

fuck patience. fuck ease. and fuck being selfless.

carmen’s grip tightened on your waist, and he pushed the last parts of his cock inside you.

it immediately hit you right where you needed him — that soft, sensitive spot so deep that barely anyone before him could dream of reaching. your walls gripped the smooth skin of his cock and you screamed. you fucking wailed when he finally pounded into you painfully, but so fucking sweetly.

“dirty — fucking — girl,” he grunted, thrusting upwards into your pussy.

there was nothing like the sight of carmy finally taking what he wanted. no expression of shame, or guilt, or hesitation on his face — just a man, slightly bent over before you, inside of you, holding you so close to him because, in that moment, you could give him what he wanted — needed. and, in that moment, all he needed was you.

the side of his face was pressed against yours, breathing heavily into your ear. the few groans he let escape his throat were guttural — almost animalistic. they went straight to your core, practically flooding around his cock. your whines of pleasure forced his hips forward and back faster and harder with each motion. balancing your weight and carmy’s with a firm hand of yours behind you on the table, you clamped your free hand on the back of his neck. you twisted a few stray strands of his hair around your fingers, tugging at them. every thrust caused you to pull his hair, him, closer and harder into you.

“laythefuckdown,” he spat, to your surprise.

the command startled you, sure — but it also made you bite your lip in anticipation. he pressed a wet, heavy kiss to your cheek, throwing butterflies in your lower stomach, as you released him. before you could lay down, he stopped you.

“you want to give me what i want, baby?” he whispered against your lips.

you nodded, gazing at him with dark, lust filled eyes.

“then i want your pussy to finish around my cock,” he stated. “think you can do that f’me?”

“y-yeah,” you replied, shakily, but full of trust.

you laid down and carmy regained his footing at the end of the table, keeping his cock pressed firmly inside you as he stood above you. his cock twitched against your most sensitive spot inside you, and you whined at the new angle. he gripped one of your hips firmly, but let his other hand ghost up your glistening lips.

“such a pretty fucking pussy,” he rasped, gazing at it. “takes my cock so well. but right here…”

he pressed his thumb against your clit.

you would’ve jumped if his hand wasn’t keeping you locked to the table.

“this is what i want,” he spat. “so fucking pretty.”

he began rubbing rough, fast circles on your clit. your legs were shaking from the overstimulation, and you thought you could cry from the sensation. your back arched off the table, and your hands struggled to find something to grip — to balance you as carmy tortured you.

but then his cock started working itself back into you again, hitting that spot that needed him so badly.

“think you can cum like this, baby?” he asked, taunting you. “be a good girl for me, yeah?”

“yes — !” you groaned, reaching for the end of the table with one hand. grabbing it, you tried to steady yourself, but it was no use. not with carmy. “fuck — it’s so much — it’s too much carmy —“

“gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”

you threw your head up to stare at the man. he was rocking into you like that was the only thing he knew, fucking you like it was the only thing he wanted, but there was so much focus on his eyes. so much focus on you.

“gonna give me what i want?”

“yes, yes,” you were nodding your head so pathetically, so sweetly for him. tears were practically threatening to spill over the corners of your eyes, but they glistened at him, and only him, and god did it fuck with him. “please, carmy — let me cum for you.”

“do it,” he ordered. “fuck, baby — cum for me.”

your hips were bucking against his pelvis and his hand, too erratic for him to be precise like he wanted to. you were chasing his fingertips, chasing the orgasm that even in his selfish state he was so generous to give. whines left your throat involuntarily as the intensity in your lower abdomen grew, and grew, and grew. your eyes were screwed shut as you pushed yourself to your elbows, holding yourself up as you couldn’t help but curl into yourself. carmen may have been looking at you, or something else — it didn’t matter. all you saw was the black of your eyelids, until is was white.

white. pure white.

your finger nails dug into the meat of your palms as the heat spread from your womb to the entirety of your body. every nerve ending and hair rose to the highest point of height they could, and you held your breath. the feeling of immense pleasured you washed over you — wave after wave, after wave, after wave. it hit you, it crashed into you, it fucking drowned you — it swallowed you whole until you were gasping for air. your orgasm was violent — practically mine splitting. you were shaking. you were sensitive beyond belief, beyond repair — and the prickling feeling wouldn’t stop. you were gasping for air as you looked down, only to find carmy’s hand still working between your thigh.

still rubbing those fucking circles.

“c-carmy,” you sputtered, tears wet in the corner of your eye. “please — i c-can’t.”

“shhh,” he whispered. “just keep cumming, baby. just keep cumming for me.”

your chest split open at that, throwing you back against the table top. shivers went up and down your spine as you took carmy’s torture.

“that’s it, baby. that’s it.”

his words were music to your ears as you screamed for him.

“ohh, fucking shit — that’s it —“ he hissed. “just like that. take it all for me — oh, fuck.”

you were dazed and confused on carmy’s table, basically seeing stars. absolutely useless, fucked out beyond words. you felt the weight and warmth of carmy’s body lean over, and rest against yours, as his hips sloppily rocked into you.

you wrapped your legs around the middle of carmy’s back, locking him in place. one hand went to clamp on the back of his head, and the other pressed against the side of his cheek.

against his lips, you whispered, “cum for me, carmy, please. i want to feel you inside of me.”

“good — fucking —“ he grunted, pressing his lips to yours in a farm, hard kiss as he shook. carmy’s tongue shoved itself into your mouth, and down your throat. carmy was everywhere — so deep in every part of you. you hummed with each moan of his you swallowed, rocking your hips against his and rocking him through his orgasm. gasps left his lips as he gripped any part of you he could, doing anything he could to hold onto you and keep you in place.

“holy f-fucking shit,” he gasped against your cheek, pressing kisses to your cheek and the length of your neck. “that — that was — it was so —“

“i know,” you spoke, giggling slightly.

carmy laid his head against your collarbone and you weaved his wet curls around your fingers. he rested fully against you, completely relaxed.

“fuck your friends,” he mumbled. “stay here tonight — as long as, um — you want to, that is.”

your giggle hummed in your chest. carmy’s confidence leaving him in the middle of the sentence surprised you slightly, but not enough to leave you unamused. “‘m not imposin’?”

he chuckled at that, and pulled you up from the table and into his arms. "fuck off."

-----

lmk what you think :) love yall -L

#carmy smut #carmy berzatto #carmy #carmen #carmen berzatto #carm berzatto #carm smut #carmen smut #the bear #bear #carmy bear berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x you #carmy x reader #carmen x reader #carmen x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you

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aemondsbabe · 3 months

Text

Come What May

summary: aemond gets his first true taste of battle, you comfort him in the aftermath.

pairing: aemond targaryen x baratheon!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is described as having long black hair to suit baratheon standards but no other physical descriptors are used, spoilers, mentions of canon character injury but no gore, angst, breast/nipple play, fingering, oral (f receiving), piv sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, slight possessive aemond, soft aemond, vulnerable aemond, we love men who cry

word count: 5.8k

a/n: i've had this idea in my head for the longest time and i think it turned out much more delicious than i was expecting! hope you all enjoy!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

gif creds to @aemondtargaryensource

divider creds to @targaryen-dynasty

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“My love, surely Ser Criston can hold his own,” you plead, wringing your hands nervously as your husband reads from the small scroll that was delivered to your chambers only moments ago, “It’s already been days, surely if they were going to retaliate, they would’ve done so by now.”

“We made the mistake of underestimating my sweet sister and her traitorous lot once before,” Aemond sighs, lilac eye scanning over the rolled parchment once more before before holding a corner of it to one of the many dripping wax candles housed on the small desk in your rooms, “It’s an error we can never afford to make again, not after what happened to little –” The muscles in his jaw clench as he cuts himself off with another harsh sigh, tossing the burning paper into a small metal bowl before turning to you.

“It’s an official summons,” he continues, voice softer now as he swiftly crosses the room until he stands before you. “I can’t simply ignore the Hand, nor my brother,” he murmurs, pulling a sigh from your lips as his hands wrap around your waist. You let your eyes slip closed for a moment when he leans down and presses a sweet kiss to the top of your head before resting his forehead against yours, your own hands gripping tightly to the front of his black tunic.

“I understand,” you say softly, swallowing thickly as you try to ignore the tightness at the back of your throat, a million unsettling what if’s playing in your mind's eye, “I just want you to come b-back to me.”

Upon hearing the break in your voice, Aemond pulls away with a tight smile. “Shh, little wife,” he whispers, gently wiping at the corner of your eyes as tears begin to gather, “I will return to you, I swear it.”

A slight flush covers the apples of your cheeks as you peer up at him, still so cautious of being weepy and emotional so soon into your marriage despite the prince’s many assurances that he was more than happy to have you exactly how you are. After a moment, you manage to blink the tears from your eyes and steady your breath, giving your husband a reassuring nod just as the doors open and a flood of servants and squires rush in to assist Aemond with his armor.

Leaving them be, you step out onto the balcony of your chambers, grateful for the cooling breeze rolling in from Blackwater Bay. Resting your hands atop the rough stone wall, you gaze out over the calm waters, watching as the sun rises and paints them in shades of orange and pink. Each time you spot a stray seagull, your heart clenches tightly in your chest – worried for a moment that it’s Meleys and her rider, come to finish what they started at Aegon’s coronation.

You startle as rough hands wrap around your middle from behind, a small gasp leaving you as your eyes pop open, seeing the sun a bit higher in the sky now before you look over your shoulder.

“Dare I ask where your pretty head was?”

“Praying,” you answer your husband with a smile, turning in his grasp, “Asking the Seven to protect you, to bring you back to me in one piece.”

Chuckling, Aemond tenderly cups your jaw with one hand, the smooth leather of his glove soft against your skin. “I assure you they will,” he says, dipping his head and kissing you with a small sigh, the metal plate armor on his torso cool against your skin, even through the fabric of your nightgown. “I do not fear this battle, sweetling, not with Vhagar at my side – she has more years of experience fighting in wars than either of us could dare imagine, many more than that old cunt or her beast. I trust her to know what’s right.”

Nodding, you follow him inside, a small smile on your lips while you listen to him talk about his dragon, finding endless amusement in the way he always speaks of her with such reverence. The two of you stand together in the low, flickering light of the many candles in your chambers, the early morning light from the drawn curtains casts faint shadows across the room as you look over your husband, unused to seeing him in true armor.

“I suppose you’re ready, then?” You ask, glancing over the fine black plates, each custom made to hug his lithe form perfectly.

“Almost,” he says, the corners of his lips quirk into a small smile in the same instance that familiar, mirthful glimmer takes residence in his eye.

“Oh?” You question, already familiar with where this is going; the smile on your lips only grows as he takes your hand and leads you over to your vanity table by the wardrobes.

“Braid my hair,” he says, always one to keep his requests of you simple, “As you do before I go riding… please.”

It’s the small please that always gets you, a courtesy Aemond so rarely bestows upon others. With a small nod, you watch as he sits on the small silk-covered chair, his lilac eye watching you from the mirror as you lean forward to grab the ornate metal hairbrush Alicent had gifted you after your wedding to her son.

Meeting his eye in the mirror once more, you give him a small smile before focusing on his hair. You run the brush through the pale, silky strands with a practiced ease; before you, the prince hadn’t dared to let anyone do his hair, and was quick to snap at any of the servants if they tried. But with you, he was quite different – much more vulnerable behind closed doors than many would expect.

Glancing up in the mirror as you brush through his long hair, the smile returns to your lips when you see his eye closed, a small sigh leaving his lips as he allows himself to relax for a moment more. It’s easy to fall into a rhythm in the quiet of the early morning, your hands steady as you run the fine brush through section after section of hair, humming a song to yourself as you go.

Finally, you set the brush back down and carefully section off a lock of hair at one of his temples, already knowing how he usually preferred it be styled. Just as you have it separated into three sections, however, one of his hands closes around yours and you lift your eyes up to his in the mirror.

“Is something the matter?”

“No, no,” he replies softly, his one eye glancing away from you, almost nervously, “I simply have a favor to ask of you, my lady. Something I’ve been unable to get off my mind, not since the threat of war became real.”

“Ask it, then.”

With a small sigh, Aemond turns in the chair, moving to face you as he takes your hands once more, calloused thumbs rubbing gently over the backs of them. “I know it is a strange request but… I would like a lock of your hair, sweet one, to braid into my own.”

Your brows knit together at his words, having not expected a request such as that, and your head tilts to the side questioningly, “I see no problem with doing it, but may I ask why?”

“I am not a superstitious man, as you well know,” he starts, smiling when you nod along with his words, “However, I have come to think of you as a good luck charm, of sorts.”

“A good luck charm?” You echo, a little blush coloring your cheeks as a shy smile tugs at your lips, your heart racing at the thought of being something so precious.

Aemond squeezes your hands and nods, “These past few moons have been difficult, between my brother adjusting to the crown and everyone else shuffling about, and the horrors that my sweet sister endures, little Jaehaerys, the numerous threats from Dragonstone, everything, I…” He pauses, brows furrowing as he stares at the stone floor, jaw clenched.

Your heart clenches in your chest as you raise a hand to his cheek, thumb stroking over the scarred skin just below his sapphire eye, the sight of it mystical to you even after so many months spent with him. Studying his face, you can’t help but notice the darkness under his eyes, a product of the many restless nights he’s faced, though a small sad smile claws at your lips as he leans into your touch – eye closing briefly as he savors it, practically purring like a housecat.

“Your presence has been the only thing that brings me comfort,” he murmurs finally, lilac eye peering up at you as he makes no move to lean away from your touch, “I find my spirits lift when I’m around you – your touch, your sweet scent, they… they calm my mind, steady my heart.”

“Oh, Aemond,” you breathe, heart racing in your chest at his words.

“I would like a piece of you with me always,” he continues, lilac eye brimming with sincerity, “To calm me when you’re away.”

You’re nodding before he can even finish his sentence, “Of course, my love, of course we can do that.” You sniffle, trying your hardest to keep your emotions at bay as the backs of your eyes sting with love-filled tears.

Again, Aemond watches as you quickly walk over to the small side table where you keep your needlework supplies. Shuffling through the small woven basket they’re stored in, you locate the small scissors used to cut thread and make your way back over to the vanity.

Bending at the waist a little, you look into the mirror, briefly meeting your husband’s eye again as you select a small lock of hair toward the back of your head, one that will be easily hidden among the rest as it grows back. With practiced motions, you quickly knot the fine strand into a thin braid before getting the scissors as close to your scalp as you dare. You carefully cut away at it until it comes away, the bundle of strands clutched tightly between two of your fingers.

Returning the scissors to the basket, you grab a small bundle of thread, close to the same dark color of your hair, and return to the prince, quickly tying off both ends of the braid before holding it up with a small smile.

“Good?”

“Good.”

Quickly taking your place by Aemond, you once again separate a lock of his hair into thirds, adding your own strand to the mix before easily winding them together in a long, silvery braid, the black of your own hair standing out strikingly against your husband’s. Finally, you gather the rest of his hair into its usual half up and half down style, thick braid skirting down one side of his head before joining the rest as you secure it with a thin leather cord.

“There,” you breathe, stepping back just enough for Aemond to stand, “All done.”

“Perfect as usual, sweetling,” the prince smiles, tight lipped, “Thank you.” He murmurs, again, a courtesy reserved for you.

“Of course,” you all but whisper, both you and Aemond pausing as you stare at one another, neither of you wanting to say goodbye first.

You nearly jump out of your skin as a knock interrupts the moment, both of your heads swiveling to the doors of your chambers as they creak open.

Ser Willis Fell, a member of Aegon’s Kingsguard steps into the room, bowing politely as he addresses you both. “Prince, Princess,” he says curtly, one hand balanced on the pommel of the sword that hangs from his waist, “I apologize for the intrusion, I’ve been instructed to inform the prince that he is to depart for Rook’s Rest immediately – King Aegon is already waiting at the Dragonpit.”

Aemond nods with a heavy sigh, turning back to you. Before he can get a word in, you practically throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as the doors click closed once more. “Please come back to me,” you breathe against the crook of his neck, tightness once again taking residence at the back of your throat as his arms wind around you, one hand rubbing soothingly up and down your back.

“I will, my sweet girl, I swear it,” he promises lowly, long arms squeezing him to you as tight as he dares, not wanting to bruise your skin against his armor, “I swear upon the Seven I’ll come back, I will not leave you, I refuse.”

Nodding, your breath catches in your throat as you slip away from him, just enough to angle your face up to his. His eye glances over your face quickly before he presses his lips against yours, both of you desperate to pour as much emotion into the kiss as you can as your lips move together for a moment.

Finally, he pulls away with a pained sigh, holding your face in his hands. “Avy jorrāelan,” he whispers, the very first Valyrian phrase he taught you. (I love you.)

“Avy jorrāelan tolī, ñuha valzȳrys,” you reply, the practiced phrase coming easily to you after all these months. (I love you too, my husband.)

With one final kiss, Aemond departs, the walk toward your chamber doors seeming like the longest of his life.

The rest of the day passes by painfully slowly, though you do all you can to entertain yourself. Everything from taking a much longer time than usual to eat meals, forcing yourself to stomach what little you can with your belly in nervous knots, to spending hours walking through the Red Keep’s gardens.

Which is how you find yourself now, in front of the fire in one of the many ornate sitting rooms, wiling away the time by half-heartedly working on a needlepoint. Alicent sits next to you on the small sofa, restlessly reading over a small stack of letters as Helaena paces, wringing her hands and mumbling to herself under her breath, a common sight following the death of her son.

With a tired sigh, you put down your embroidery hoop, fingers too sore and overworked to continue. “I just want him to come back,” you mutter, staring vacantly into the fire, “Or to get some word, some update. Just to know.”

“He’ll come back, sweetling,” Alicent murmurs softly, setting the letters aside as she places a comforting hand on your knee, “They both will.” She finishes, glancing over at her daughter with a longing stare, wishing there was anything she could do to ease her pain.

The both of you sit for a while longer, the navy sky outside growing steadily darker, before Alicent sighs and looks at you with a sad half-smile. “You may as well go to bed, dear,” she says softly, “Staying up worrying won’t do any good.”

Knowing she’s right, you quickly bid her goodnight before taking your leave.

You lay in bed, tossing and turning for a long while, thoughts filled with nothing but your husband, before sleep finally takes you. Even then, it’s not restful, dreams filled with visions of blood and fire, of the sounds of screaming and swords clanging together.

It isn’t until the wee hours of the night, almost sunrise, that a sound wakes you – clanging again, only soft this time, like metal on stone.

You blink your eyes open, a little groan leaving your lips as you rub at them with your fists before –

“Aemond!” You breathe, scrambling under the blankets to get to him, nearly toppling off the bed in your haste.

He makes a small “oof” noise as you throw yourself against his chest, catching you in his arms and holding you tightly. “Careful, love,” he laughs softly, letting his eye slip closed as he kisses the top of your head, breathing in the familiar lavender scent of your hair.

“You came back,” you breathe, winding your arms around his waist as you kneel at the edge of the bed, knees digging into the plush mattress. Upon hugging the prince, you come to realize that the small clanging noise that woke you had to have been him quickly untying his plate armor and stripping off his chainmail, leaving him in a soft tunic and pants – the aforementioned garments lying haphazardly on the floor, their sheen reflected somewhat in the dim glow of the fire.

“Of course I did,” he murmurs, stroking a hand over your back, “I swore I would, didn’t I?”

The two of you fall easily into a comfortable silence, arms wrapped securely around one another as the only noise in the room is the sound of soft breathing and the crackling from the hearth. You can’t help but notice that Aemond smells smokey, much like he does after riding on Vhagar but stronger now, no doubt having been around dragon fire for hours.

After a moment, you peer up at him, eyes finally adjusted to the low light. When you do, you can’t help the small, pitying little gasp that leaves your lips and one hand rises to gently cup his cheek. You’re no stranger to seeing him after a long day training in the yard with Ser Criston, but this is wholly different.

In the pale light, you could make out small dark splotches on his face and neck and upon skirting your thumb over one on his cheek, you come to realize it’s remnants of ash, staining not only his skin but the bits and pieces of his tunic and pants that weren’t covered by armor as well. His hair was still fixed how you’d left it, though messier now – windswept and slightly dusty as well, many of the white strands stained a faint grey, the flash of black from your own braid still cutting through the paleness of his like a knife.

But what really stopped you was his eye, his lilac one; you frown when you notice the uneasy look in it, full of a bitter sadness. “My sweet husband,” you say softly, brows furrowing when you notice a few scant tear stains on his cheek, their paths carved through the spots of ash, “What happened? What did they do to you?” You question, heart racing at the thought of the horrors he must’ve seen – his first real taste of battle.

The prince gazes at you for a long second, his lips parting as one of his hands comes to rest at the nape of your neck, fingers threading through your hair. All at once though, the sadness in his eye changes to a familiar fire, one that makes your heart race for an altogether different reason and desire curls in your belly, coming to rest like a cat in a sunbeam.

“Aemond?” You question, blinking up at him. Suddenly, his lips are on yours, hot and insistent and you’re all too eager to comply, easily melting against him. A whimper leaves your lips, instantly swallowed by his mouth as it moves against yours.

The kiss is more teeth and tongues than anything else, your husband’s slipping against yours with a practiced ease. His hand threads more harshly through your hair, making you moan against his lips as your hands cling tightly to the dark fabric of his tunic, a growl reverberating under them as it emanates from his chest.

“Need you,” he breathes raggedly as his lips part from yours, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your jaw and to your neck. You shudder against him as his teeth nip gently at your skin before his lips suckle at it gently, painting bruises on your throat that match the many he surely has.

“But –” you start, a myriad of questions swirling in your mind despite the pleasure threatening to blot them out.

You’re stopped mid sentence as Aemond suddenly cups one of your breasts, palming eagerly at the tender flesh in a way he knows makes your head spin and don’t miss the ghost of a victorious smirk on his lips at the way you cut yourself off with a small, shuddered moan, squirming in his hold as his thumb skirts over your nipple through the thin fabric of your nightgown.

“Please, sweet one, I need this,” he mumbles, voice muffled against your neck. His hand at the nape of your neck slips down to wrap around the small of your back, arching you against him, “I need you, I need to feel… t-to feel something good again.”

Once more, you’re nodding before he can even finish his request, chest heaving as you fight to keep your eyes open, wanting to keep him in your sights as if he may disappear again if you don’t. “Then take me,” you sigh, a broken moan leaving your lips as he kisses down your neck and across your chest. The hair at the back of your neck raises on end as he mouths over the fat of your breast, dampening the front of your nightgown.

Both of your hands claw desperately at the back of his head, tangling into his long hair messily just as his lips close around your nipple. “Gods!” You cry as he suckles at it needily, still pawing at the other one, savoring the feel of it in his hand.

Just as your thighs begin squeezing together, your center aching, Aemond pulls away, smirking when you whine. Impatient as ever, he quickly pulls at your nightgown, tugging it up and over your head, and tosses it onto the floor with his armor – delicate silk pooling over hard metal – before quickly undoing his tunic, eye glimmering proudly at how you always stare at him with such reverence.

“Fuck,” he growls, hands descending passionately against you once more, one again kneading at your breast as the other slides against your hip, long fingers digging into the fat of your ass, “You get more beautiful every time I see you.” He whispers against your lips, strands of silver hair falling loose from his braid and fanning around his face.

His lips press against yours once more, teeth teasingly nipping at your lower lip as your nails dig into his shoulders and chest, anxious for more even as you blush at his words. Always one to please, the prince wastes no time in trailing kisses back over your neck, pausing to nip and suck once again at his marks from earlier, needing to see remnants of himself on your delicate skin.

Again, he traces a bath down across your chest before licking over your nipple, needing to give attention to the breast he’d missed earlier. His tongue laves over it greedily and you moan at the feel of his length, hard and hot against your lower belly even through the cotton of his trousers.

Just as his teeth nip softly at your taut bud, the hand on your hip shifts toward your center, making your breath catch in your throat. Suckling at your nipple once more, Aemond gently runs his fingers through your already dripping folds, pulling a loud, whiny whimper from you as his lips curl into a smirk, a pleased hum radiating against your breast.

“Husband, please,” you whine, finding your voice once more as he rests his forehead against yours, chuckling at your cries.

“Seems I’m not the only one that needs this, hm?” He teases, eye glancing over your face as his fingers lightly rub against your aching bud, your breaths mingling together.

“A-Always need you,” you say breathily, your hips moving of their own accord as he plays with you, your own hands clutching at him like an anchor, “I’ll always, fuck! I’ll always need you, Aemond.”

He feels his heart skip in his chest at that and once again grows restless, the need to have you, to feel nothing but you burns through him like fire. Distantly, in the back of his mind, he thinks how the sincerity in your tone reminds him of your wedding vows, whispered to him in the Sept as if the two of you were the only people in the universe – how he wishes that were true.

With a grunt, he presses his lips harshly against yours once more before leaning forward, pressing himself over you until you have no choice but to buckle and fall to your back against the bed. Unable to think of anything else, he wastes no time in kneeling at the side of the bed, knees against one of the many fur rugs dotted over the floors of your chamber.

A squeal leaves your lips as the prince clutches at your ankles and pulls you toward him, until your ass is nearly hanging off the edge of the bed. A breathy whimper leaves you as you peer down at him, resting back on your elbows as your teeth bite into your lower lip.

Your hips buck as Aemond kisses up your thighs, long hair tickling your soft skin, and you whine as he licks at the curve where your thigh and center meet. A breath leaves him as he uses his thumbs to part your folds, licking his lips at how your arousal already coats them, wetness catching in the dim light of the fire.

“The Stranger himself wouldn’t be able to tear me from this,” your husband murmurs lowly, nearly growling as he glances between your face and your dripping heat like a starving man looking over a feast.

With a groan, he finally dives in, moaning nearly as loud as you do as he greedily mouths at your cunt, tongue licking harshly over you from bottom to top. Every muscle in your body seems to seize as lightning bolts of pleasure crackle up and down your spine.

Your head flops back against the bed as Aemond licks and suckles at your folds, burying his face against your center as he licks into you, nose pressed tightly against your pearl. Your fingers tangle into his hair once more, back arching as he groans into your heat, all but fucking you on his tongue as obscene wet sounds echo about the room.

“Oh Gods, f-fuck,” you whine, hips rutting against his face as the heat in your belly threatens to boil over already. Your eyes roll back as he chuckles against you and licks up to your bud, suckling at it eagerly, making you clench around nothing.

“Gods, you taste good, so sweet,” the prince mumbles against you, lapping at your pearl as he runs two thick fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal. “I would kill Death himself for this, my love,” he rasps, leaning up to watch the expressions on your face as he presses his fingers into you, impatiently crooking them up in just the way you like, fucking and rubbing them against the sensitive spot within you with practicied ferocity.

“Please, please, please,” you pant, belly knotting tighter and tighter at his words, the gruffness of his voice, head so clouded you aren’t even entirely sure what you’re begging for.

Aemond smirks and licks and sucks at your bud for a moment more, savoring every whine and whimper he pulls from you. “Let go, my love,” he murmurs, grinning at the way your heat clenches tightly around his fingers, “Peak, let me feel it.”

You wail as the cord within you breaks, shuddering and babbling the prince’s name again and again as pleasure washes over you, your muscles tensing and relaxing in a dizzying rhythm as he works you through it. You nearly peak again as he groans against you, lips wrapped around your pearl as he suckles, gradually slowing his fingers within you.

Finally, you come down, though the fire within you still burns brightly, still aches for him. You watch through half-lidded eyes as he rises from the floor, lilac eye looking over your disheveled form proudly as white strands of hair cling to his face, still sticky with your arousal.

His chest heaves as he quickly undoes the ties of his trousers and tugs them off his long, lean legs. He wipes at his lips with the back of his hand as he leans back over you and you whine when you feel the heat of his length pressing against you, trapped between your two bodies, the tip already red and leaking against your belly.

“You’re so good to me,” he murmurs softly, leaning forward to kiss you as he savors the little gasp that leaves your lips as he reaches down with one hand, positioning his cock at your sensitive entrance, “My perfect, sweet girl.”

You nod your head, hands cupping his face as he pushes into you. Your mouth falls open in a loud gasp and you tremble in his hold as he presses forward, sheathing himself inside of you completely with a pleased groan.

“Oh, my love,” you finally pant, savoring the way his length feels within you, pressing against every part of you as he fills you completely, “You feel so good, husband, always so good.”

He growls at that, the breathiness of your tone making his eye flutter shut as he begins rutting against you, grinding his hips against your own. “You were made for me,” he muses, groaning when you begin kissing over the pale column of his throat, “Made to be mine.”

“For you,” you agree between kisses and licks, heart fluttering at the way his thrusts stutter each time your teeth graze over his skin, “Only for you, my sweet prince.”

Aemond groans above you and settles into a practiced rhythm, thick cock spearing into you again and again as your legs wrap around his hips, holding you to him as if he would ever dream of pulling away. One of his hands rests at the nape of your neck again, holding you against his throat as the other grabs at your waist, marveling at the way your breasts move against his chest, bouncing lightly with each thrust.

The thought of them full of milk, your belly swollen with his seed, flashes across his mind and he growls low in his chest, cock twitching within you.

As you squirm beneath him, your husband can tell you’re close, as if the steady pulse of your core around his length wasn’t warning enough. “I would go to war for this cunt,” he groans, locking eyes with you as your foreheads press together once more, “I would burn whole villages to the ground just to have you like this, sweetling.”

His words cascade over you like lava, making your brows furrow together as you gaze up at him, mouth agape. You all but forget to breathe for a moment before a loud, whining moan tears itself from your lips, chest heaving as you fight for air.

“A-Aemond, Aemond, Gods,” you babble, legs tightening around his waist as your nails scratch down his back, making him grunt above you. After only a few more thrusts, you break once more, writhing beneath him.

Distantly, you hear the prince groan and grunt above you as your cunt squeezes around him, determined to hold off his own pleasure long enough to watch you peak once more.

Finally, unable to hold back any longer, Aemond surrenders to the fire within him and moans, voice breaking, as he lets it consume him. Your eyes flutter open as you feel his cock kick inside you and you watch him, mesmerized, as warmth fills you, his seed adding to the sticky mess between your thighs.

He collapses against you, hips still rutting against your own in broken, twitching movements as his own high fades. The two of you lay like that for a moment, panting as you catch your breath, until you realize your husband’s shoulders are shaking beneath your hold, his breath coming in unsteady bursts against your neck from where his head rests against your shoulder.

“My love?” You question, cupping his cheek and bringing his face up just enough to see him. Your heart nearly breaks at the sight of tears pooled in his eye, a few already running down his cheek, “What is it? What’s wrong?” You question, quickly glancing over him, searching for some injury, some source of pain.

Aemond merely shakes his head and sniffles, blinking to dispel his tears as his cheeks flush – he hates the thought of you seeing him so weak. “I’m… I-I’m sorry,” he chokes out finally, holding you against his body tightly despite his embarrassment.

Immediately, you shake your head, pressing a hand against his shoulder until he rolls over, pulling you with him. A soft gasp leaves your lips at the feel of his softening length slipping from your drenched folds as he comes to rest on his back, you at his side, one hand across his chest.

“Shhh, husband,” you murmur, cupping his cheek once more as you lean up on an elbow, “You needn’t apologize to me.” He nods, somewhat half-heartedly, at your words and sighs deeply, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows thickly, trying to chase away the tightness at the back of his throat.

You stay silent for a moment, giving him time to calm down, and let your eyes sweep over his form. Aside from the blotches of ash on his pale skin, and some bruises here and there, he looks nearly untouched. A small smile tugs at your lips despite the situation when you see your lock of hair still wound into his, pale braid practically falling apart by now, most of it pulled free of the leather tie holding it together.

“What’s happened?” You finally ask once his breathing evens out some, your thumb rubbing soothingly over his cheekbone.

“Aegon,” he chokes out, jaw clenching once more as tears run down his cheek yet again.

Your heart clenches as a shot of adrenaline all but knocks the wind from your lungs, “He’s not… h-he didn’t –” You start to question, stopping yourself once Aemond shakes his head.

“No, no,” he confirms, voice ragged and soft as his chest heaves with a sniffle, “Almost, but no.”

“Almost?”

“He… He’s hurt,” Aemond starts, barely a whisper as his eye finally meets yours, “Badly. I don’t… I don’t know what comes next, o-or what to do, what’ll be expected of me, of you –” He mutters, breath picking up as panic rises within him, regretting each time he’d looked at his brother with envy – saw the black crown atop his head, glimmering with red rubies, and thought bitterly that it would suit him better.

“Shhh,” you breathe once more, draping yourself over him like a blanket and pulling a tired sigh from his lips as your touch immediately slows his racing heart. You run your fingers through his hair, black intertwined with white, and press a soothing kiss to his cheek, “I don’t care what comes next, my love.”

Your soft words draw his attention and he looks at you, brows furrowed in surprise, “You don’t?”

“Not at all,” you murmur, steeling yourself to be strong for him regardless of the future, “Whatever happens, I shall face it with you. That’s enough for me.”

gen tags: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild @cruelworldlana @mheraxes @eternallyvenus @chaotic-fangirl-blog @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino

aemond tags: @demirunner @iloveslasher @neithriddle @moneypriestess @anak1nsx @angelinap09

hotd tags: @cuddlejeongin

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

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sadesluvr · 6 months

Text

Three Simple Wishes - William Afton x Reader

It’s Vanessa’s birthday, but her father William ends up getting the best present.

A/N: Pure filth, yet again. This has gone through a BILLION iterations, but I’ve finally done it…I’m off to horny jail. Minors DNI!

Word count: 3.5K

Tags: SMUT / Dom + Sub dynamics / Dub-con / Age gaps (Reader is in her 20’s) / Infidelity / Costume sex / Perv! William / Oral sex, male and female receiving / Sex toys (Vibrator) / Multiple orgasms / Unprotected sex / Creampies / LOTS of use of the term 'Princess' / William is just NASTY, ok? And a bad father but we knew that

Being a Rent-A-Princess was far from glamorous, but sometimes it was rewarding. As for the other times? Having to endure sleazy men who hire you for bachelor parties, and cleaning yourself up from that one sickly child who puked on your dress.

You hoped today wouldn’t be one of those days.

It seemed promising enough to start, until you’d apparently shown up an hour early.

“I’m sorry,” a man named William said. You’d quickly learned he was the birthday girls’ father. “Sarah should’ve told you that they were going to the movies first. It’s funny how she can forget that, but not to nag about everything I do,” he said matter of factly, swigging his drink.

So he was the complaining husband. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.

“Well, I can wait…” you sighed, playing with the sparkly material of your dress. Mrs Afton had specifically requested that you be a ‘fairy princess’ - so you were dressed in a flowery tiara, crème coloured wings, and a corset-like dress with off the shoulder straps and a tulle skirt that stopped just by your knees.

“Want a drink?” William asked, breaking the tension. He seemed nice enough, albeit slightly dorky with his large glasses and oddly coloured tie. Apparently he’d come from work.

You politely shook your head, biting your lip as you directed your attention around the room, somewhat oblivious to the way the man was staring at you.

He’d heard of his wife’s “genius” idea to hire a princess, but for some reason the concept had never really manifested in his mind. He’d always seen them as slightly cringey with weird, overly heavy makeup, but you were a dream come true. Shy, polite - perfectly submissive. He wondered what was hidden under the layers of tulle and petticoat; if you’d squirm when he ran his hands up your thighs, spreading them apart so he could finger your pussy. He wanted to see you in action; if you’d stay in character whilst he pounded you into the counter, tears of ecstasy forming in your eyes as you’d squeal when you came around his cock.

His relationship with his wife had gotten stale a long time ago, and it was time that he got a thanks.

“You know, I’ll pay you for this extra hour,” he announced. “Can you do a little bit of your act? I wanna see if you’re good enough for my ‘Nessa,” he smiled, eyes wide and sparkling. Even though he was a grown man, it was actually rather cute. You loved seeing devoted fathers -

How could you say no?

You picked up your wand and stood in the middle of the kitchen before you curtseyed.

“Your wish is my command…” you said gently, peering up at him through your lashes. It was a classic move in the business, but it drove the man crazy. He smirked, finishing the last of his beer before he walked around the counter to join you, leaning against the counter.

It was then you realised how much bigger he was than you; tall, with a large chest and limbs. What struck you the most was his biceps and thighs - he was far more built than the typical man his age. For some reason you now felt nervous, but it wasn’t the usual pre-show jitters.

“…How may your Princess be of assistance?”

His Princess. You were all his for the next hour.

“I get three wishes, don’t I?” he hummed.

You pursed your lips and nodded, rolling the wand in your hands as your heart pounded against your chest.

“Well, for my first wish I’d like a dance with you,” William said, smirking at your startled reaction.

“I’m not a great dancer…” you said bashfully.

William stepped closer, reaching out a hand to adjust the material of your sleeves down so that they were level, noticing how your skin freckled with goosebumps upon his touch.

“Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll teach you,” he said softly, taking your hand in his and beginning to lead you into some kind of ballroom dance.

There was no music but he hummed a deep, methodic melody that came from inside his chest, almost like a satisfied purr of a lion. He was careful as he held you, as if you were a porcelain doll, making sure that his body was a safe distance from yours. Still, your bare legs and the tickly material of your dress occasionally rubbed against his own, earning an apologetic ‘sorry’ from you every time.

You were beyond perfect. Quite literally a fantasy come to life.

Once you were done, you broke away.

“Where did you learn to move like that?” you chuckled.

“I play a character too,” he said vaguely. “I’m very comfortable in my body. Besides, my wife always said I was good with my hands…” he finished, raising his brows slightly. You bit your lip and cocked your head, giggling at his entendre.

“What’s your second wish?”

“A kiss,” he said bluntly, and you glanced at the ground shyly. This was certainly beyond your means. Still, you were technically on the job, and you’d jokingly kissed people on the cheek before as part of it. This was the only gig you had that was getting you through college, and you couldn’t lose it.

You nodded, adjusting your tiara before you leaned in, standing on your toes as you planted a kiss on his cheek. His skin was slightly prickly because of his beard, contrasting against your soft, slightly sticky lips. Pulling away, you realised you’d left a smudge of your lip gloss on his cheek.

William hummed at the contact, unable to suppress his growing erection. You smelled heavenly, and your kiss was even better. So gentle, so precise…

“That was lovely, sweetheart, but I didn’t say on the cheek,”

Your eyes widened and you gasped.

“Mr Afton — I can’t…You’re married,”

“That doesn’t matter,” he said dismissively. “It’s all just make-believe. Besides, she’s not here…”

You remained frozen as he got closer to you, his hands again brushing the sleeves of your dress, this time beginning to slide them down your arms. You knew what he wanted.

“Mr Afton, please,” you begged, glancing around the kitchen. If this endeavour was going to happen, it shouldn’t be by a children’s birthday cake. “Not here…”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his voice raspy. The cracks were beginning to show, and his eyes were filled with lust. “This way,”

He led you down the hall and up the stairs. Before you knew it, you were in the Afton’s bedroom, the door left slightly ajar.

“Get on the bed for me, Princess,” he grinned. “I want to look at you,”

William chuckled as you immediately obeyed, pulling yourself up towards the headboard, sat on your knees, staring up at him expectedly. You were quivering, and it only made his cock harder.

The tulle ran up your thighs, its poorly constructed bottom beginning to leave nothing to the imagination. Your chest was heaving, exposing the outline of your breasts. Even though you were scared, you were so ready for him.

“I don’t want to get caught…” you said softly, a lump bobbing in your throat as he slowly approached you, staring you down like a piece of meat. “I’ll be fired,”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Princess,” he smiled, beginning to loosen his belt as he kept staring at you. “But it works two ways, you know…”

You nodded.

“Is this your final wish?”

“No. I like to savour my treats…” he purred, pulling down his zipper. “Look up at me, doll,”

You obeyed, letting him take your face with his free hand, cupping your chin as he guided you to his cock. He was a little over average, and it was thick, with a prominent vein running along its side. He groaned and threw his head back as your warm mouth enveloped his cock, precum acting as lube and coating your lips like gloss. His grip remained firm on your face as he began to pump in and out of your mouth slowly, giving you time to adjust to the sensation. You hollowed your cheeks on his cock, guiding your head along the skin as you used your tongue to lick the sides, earning a groan from William.

“Has this pretty Princess sucked cock before?” he teased. “Of course you have…You’ve never had one like this before though, hm? Married, daddy dick,”

You managed a ‘Mmfh’ in response, unable to speak. The man chuckled and let go of your face, letting you do the work whilst he caressed your body, admiring your wings and stroking your neck, his hands making their way down to your chest. You wasted no time in using your hands to grip his base, holding him still as you began to eagerly suck him off, taking him as far as you could whilst your hands jerked him off at the base.

He huffed, and began to unbutton his shirt, leaving him in a vest, showing off his slightly hairy chest. He looked down at you, and you looked up at him, secretly satisfied at the way his eyes were half lidded with desire. It was his daughter's birthday, and his wife was 30 mins away, and yet here he was getting a blowjob from the hired entertainment. It was so sinful, and he’d barely even begun.

“Go deeper, Princess. For me…” he commanded, his voice breathy. You did, and his thick tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag. Pulling away, a trail of spit connected your mouth to his cock, and the man tutted, scooping it with his finger to run it over your swollen lips.

Had you disappointed him?

“I can do it —” you insisted, psyching yourself up to go again, but he stopped you, bending down to place a sloppy kiss on your lips.

“Lie back,” he said simply. “I have a surprise of my own,”

He opened a drawer, fumbling around through the contents before he pulled out a box — to a vibrator.

“It’s all clean,” he said, holding it up teasingly. “You got one of these, Princess? Or are you too much of a good girl for them – Maybe there’s a Prince around to do the job for you…?”

You shook your head. There was one guy named Mike who’d sold you the tires of your car once, but you’d never really pursued him.

“Hm,” William hummed gleefully. “ ‘Got this for Sarah as a fun little Valentine's gift ‘n she never used it. She’s a fucking prude, as you can tell. But you’re going to be my good little princess, aren’t you?”

“Yes Sir,” you replied, and he smirked as he opened the box, wasting no time in sorting it out.

In a moment he clicked it on, and the quiet house was filled with whirring which filled you with anticipation. It’d been a while since you’d had sex, let alone anything penetrating.

William leaned down, hands on either side of your body as he snaked his hands up the sides of your thighs, calluses brushing the material of your skirt away before he reached your panties.

“I’m gonna put this inside you, okay Princess? Be a good girl for me…”

You hadn’t realised it was a dual operator.

The rubbery material slid into your folds as he pushed your panties aside with his hands, allowing for the other nub to rest on your clit, leaving the base sticking out of your body. If that wasn’t torture enough, he covered the bottom with your panties, placing them back into position and leaving you with no escape.

The machine began to pulse and vibrate, leaving you as nothing but a squirming mess.

William chuckled at the sight below him, taking a moment to watch you squeal and call out for him as he lazily jerked his cock. This was far better than any porn. Or sex with his wife, for that matter.

You arched your back and clung onto the sheets as it continued to fuck you, the outside handle massaging your clit in circles, sending shockwaves through your body. You’d never been fucked like this, and it was even more sinful knowing it came from a married man.

“Please Sir…” you begged, eyes watery as you stared at him, arms outstretched. “I need —“

“Does the Princess need her King? He’s coming, doll,” he cooed, desire laced in his throaty chuckle. He walked over to you and took your hand, but assumed his position back at your mouth, taking a moment to run his heavy shaft over your wanting lips. You took him in your mouth like a good girl, making sure you teased his balls with your tongue.

He groaned, legs shaking as he ran his fingers to the top of your dress, roughly pulling it down to just below your breasts and began to fondle them with his large hands. He squeezed and tugged on your nipples, bringing you to a point of complete overstimulation as the vibrator continued its motions within you. The room was filled with sounds of wetness from both your mouth and cunt, and judging by the way you were beginning to desperately paw on William’s thighs he could tell you were close.

“Are you gonna cum, doll? You gonna cum all over my wife’s vibrator?”

You whined an ‘uh-huh’ as you nodded your head, and William grinned down at you, pulling himself from your mouth.

“Good,” he hummed. “Open your legs nice and wide for me Princess. I want to watch you,”

You did so and he stood over you, inspecting you as if he were a doctor. You were beginning to see white, and you barely noticed that the man had dropped to his knees, face-to-face with your aching pussy. In a second, he dragged you towards him and buried his face between your legs, underneath all the layers of tulle and petticoat. He swiftly removed the vibrator and replaced it with his tongue and lithe fingers, flicking at your bud and pumping in and out of you, your juices beginning to coat his digits.

It was heaven when you came. You were so overwhelmed that you’d actually locked your legs around him; allowing him to receive all of your fluids across his face and fingers. He lapped you up like he was starving, his hands holding a steady grip on your thighs and waist, making it clear that you belonged to him.

As you rode off your high, you began to feel sleepy. William emerged from under your dress, looking rather proud of himself as he wiped a droplet of your juices from his beard. You mustered the strength to prop yourself up, and as you did he pulled you into a sloppy kiss by your neck, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth.

“Dirty girl,” he murmured. “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?”

You bit your lip as you pulled away, watching the man intently as he dropped his pants and boxers, leaving him completely nude.

“Keep your clothes on for me, doll,” he smiled sinisterly. “You look so pretty in that dress. I promise I won’t ruin it…”

Shifting so that you were amongst the pillows, you instinctively hiked up your skirt, watching as William climbed over you. Even though you were fully clothed, you felt completely naked under his gaze, and the severity of the situation finally sunk in on you.

Here you were, the image of innocence and grace, draped across the marital bed of the parents of the child you were supposed to entertain - on her birthday no less - whilst the husband straddled you, ready to fuck you within an inch of your life.

Sarah, Vanessa and the other children could come home any minute.

“William…” you whispered, cupping his cheek in your hand. “I-I’m scared…”

He grinned. He hoped you were scared of what he was going to do to you, and the idea of being caught by his wife.

“Shh,” he hummed. “I’ve got you,”

He lifted your legs to either side of him so that your lower back was elevated, and your thighs rested on his own as he lined up with your entrance. He took a moment to tease your slit, rubbing his sticky head along your wet folds, still sensitive from your orgasm.

He pushed into you with little warning and your back arched, relishing in the bittersweet feeling of being stretched open. You thought he was going to begin moving, but he continued to push into you, making sure that the ring of juices you’d left on his cock was entirely covered. He wanted you to take him whole.

“Fuck, Princess,” he groaned, voice rumbling from the inside of his chest. “You’re so tight…I haven’t had a pussy like this in ages…”

“Will…” you stammered, shutting your eyes as you felt him bottom out within you, balls resting on your skin. “Oh my God…”

“Such a perfect little Princess,” he said, relishing in the sight of your skin-on-skin. Holding your thighs apart, he pulled back slowly before beginning to fuck into you, the contact making obscene sticky sounds. You had no choice but to grip the bed sheets as he drew long, agonising strokes into you, savouring the moment. Something about it was strangely intimate.

Once William found his rhythm he briefly let go of your thighs to grope your tits through the material before pulling it down and manhandling them himself. They moved with every thrust as your head lolled, mouth open and whining as he fucked you.

William was a man of many feats, but he’d never believed he'd be able to have this. He wanted you to be his naughty little elf for Christmas, his Cupid for Valentines, and his present for his birthday. Just you, bound by ribbon with a bow on your head would be good enough.

“You like this, hm? Ever fucked another dad like me? They must love having you around,” he snarled, and your pussy clenched at the image.

“N-Noo…” you whispered, squealing as William abruptly slapped your cunt..

“No?” he repeated. “Hm, of course not. You’re a good girl, aren’t you? A true Princess…”

You nodded, leaning up as William leant down to meet your lips in another sloppy kiss, giving him the ammunition to drill his cock into you further, your legs now by his shoulders.

God, this was the best fuck you’d ever had.

He steadied himself on either side of you, and you could feel his hot, heavy breaths from his nose and mouth as he continued to fuck you, eye contact unwavering.

As his thrusts became sloppier, you felt your stomach knot up, signalling yet another orgasm.

“William…I’m - I’m close…”

“Again, baby?” he hummed. “And here I was thinking I’d get to fuck your ass…Hm, there’s always a next time…”

You hardly acknowledged the implication.

“Y-You gotta — “

“Pull out?” he teased, withdrawing his hips, legs shaking as his nerves tingled and he entered you for the final time. “Oh no, Princess, I can’t do that! I could stain your pretty dress or ruin your makeup…”

He was so considerate.

You nodded, locking your arms around his neck as the weight of his body forced you into the mattress. You squeezed your eyes shut as you came, toes curling as your walls clamped down on his cock, making him feel bigger than before (if that were even possible). It wasn’t long before he came, grunting and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he filled your pussy with his hot cum. He held you there for what felt like forever, making sure every drop wasn’t wasted, nor spilled onto the bed sheets.

“Fuck!” he bellowed, words broken between pants as he began to pull out, watching as the creamy fluids glistened in the natural light, even trickling down to his balls. You looked absolutely spent, and if you didn’t have a job to do he would’ve let you lie there.

Managing to pull yourself up, it was mostly silent until you heard a car enter the driveway, causing you to spring into motion.

“William, we’re home!”

“Shit…” you murmured, looking around. How would it look if you both came down the stairs?

“Here, take this,” William said nonchalantly, handing you a pink envelope. “Vanessa’s room is at the end of the hall. I trust you know how to improvise...”

You nodded, brushing your skirt into place as you hastily began to leave. William stopped you, raising a hand as if to ‘halt’, and tenderly fixed your tiara, a sly smirk wiped across his face as he did. As he let go, his hands stroked your cheek and his thumb ran over your lips. You took the digit into your mouth briefly before planting a gentle kiss onto the tip, smiling back up at him innocently.

Keys were in the door.

“My final wish…” he uttered, “…Is that you come and work for me. We could really use an Easter Bunny…”

@fandomwritingbit @ahsxual

#florence writes!!#my magnum opus #for now #william afton smut #william afton x reader smut #william afton x reader #steve raglan smut #steve raglan x reader #fnaf smut

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tatoda · 10 months

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Seeing you | college!conrad x fem!reader

!!MINORS DNI!!

request

masterlist

summary: you come to surprise conrad at college on a rainy night

pairing: college!conrad x fem!teader

warnings: SMUT!! fem receiving, piv, conrad pleasing reader, soft sex, male receiving CHARACTERS ARE 18

wc: 2.1K

sorry if it's not really put together but I did try my best sorry if there are any mistakes

The drive to Brown was horrible tonight. It’s as if it was raining cats and dogs. But you told yourself nothing would stop you from seeing your boyfriend. You had a horrible week back at home. Your sister Belly was making you help her with trigonometry, and the only person you learned from was Conrad but he was busy this whole week with finals. Belly would take up all your free time when you weren’t doing your classes online. You decided to stay home your first 2 years and do online to help with Susannah and your mom as they both were going through a lot. But to your siblings, that just meant you’re always home for them to ask you for anything.

The rain calmed down as you entered the campus. He didn’t know you were coming but he did text you and tell you he has the weekend free to rest until his next final on monday. You wouldn’t be lying if you said that you cried the 3 hours of driving you did and all of connie’s texts were going unanswered so he became worried. He called Steven who told him you were sleeping— he was in on the surprise.

Pulling up to his dorm building you parked the car and grabbed your bag before running through the rain to the entrance. You tried to use the backpack as an umbrella but it didn’t work as your clothes got damp. Walking to the elevator it opened and you clicked the top floor. It felt like the machine was taking forever because he was just a few feet away. And it’s been almost 3 weeks since you saw him last. The sliding doors opened and you speed-walked to his door. Standing in front of it, you knocked breathing out of your mouth.

“coming!” the familiar voice yelled out and the door opened to his beautiful face

“hi.” you softly spoke scared he didn’t want you here but he didn’t say anything just ran and picked you up holding you close to him

“oh my gosh.” his head was in your neck breathing in your scent “you’re here.” he looked back at your teary face

“i missed you.” he wiped a fallen tear

“don’t cry.” he kissed your forehead running his hands through your damp hair “you drove in this rain?” worry struck his face

“i needed to see you.” both his hands cupped your face

“i was so worried when you didn’t answer and then steven said you were sleeping, i didn’t believe him.” he laughed and you shook your head at your young brother

“can i come in?” he moved and let you into the dorm room. his roommate was gone and conrad’s side of the room was neatly made just like he always did in cousins

“my roommate finished his finals so he’s gone.” the door closed behind you as you dropped your bag pealing off your jacket before flopping on his bed “dork.” he chuckled and climbed behind you bringing him towards you. “missed you,” he mumbled

“not possible i missed you more.” you turned around in his arms taking in his face. his thumb slowly drifted across your face

“i’m sorry that i was so busy, i know you were having a hard week.” you shook your head

“just had no time to relax. Belly needed help with trig and it got to a point i couldn’t understand, and then steven called me one night at like three am drunk asking for a ride when i had work at five. my mom was all over the place with your mom and it was a mess.” he didn’t interrupt you he just listened

“i’m sorry i couldn’t be there, you know jere can help too.”

“jere was drunk with steven.”

“of course he was.” conrad laughed “well i’m almost done with finals so i’m gonna be all yours.” he sighed bringing you closer to kiss you softly and you brought your hands up to his soft hair that you missed so much. the kiss depended as he moved to get on top of you putting his weight on you “missed you so much, gosh,” he whispered against your lips

“show me.” his eyes darkened as those words came out of your mouth.

“baby,” he mumbled looking down at you

“con, i’ve missed you so much, please. it’s been forever since you touched me.” a small smirk grew on his face before he leaned down to kiss your lips softly and then slowly descend down to your neck, but his lips stayed there as his hand drifted down towards the waistband of your sweatpants “please”

He didn’t have to be told twice by you. Conrad let his hand slip under your underwear and finally makes contact with you feeling the effect he has on you. His fingers started slowly circling your clit and it made you buck your hips into him feeling the hard pressure from him against you. He didn’t focus on that. Only you. He wanted to make sure you were satisfied. He could wait. As he teased you around your entrance his lips stopped kissing your neck and he looked into your eyes lovingly.

“hi,” you breathed into him as he ran a finger over you again

“hi baby.” he smiled down at you and slipped a finger inside of you catching your mouth in a gasp he kissed you “like that?” you nodded fast against him as he slowly moved in and out of you “so pretty.” he kissed the tip of your nose as he moved his thumb to play with your clit again circling it just how you liked it

“con.” you bucked into him again

“i’m not gonna let you cum, don’t you worry we’re gonna do that together.” he moved faster on the spot you needed him most before pulling out of you when he knew you were getting close

“yeah, yeah.” you sighed and conrad peeled off his shirt over his head and then helped you out of yours to see the lace bra you were wearing

“for me?” you leaned back on your elbows giving him a nice view

“the one and only.” he chuckled before you grabbed the side of his face and brought your lips back together. you slightly lifted yourself and unclipped your bra letting it fall between the both of your bodies. conrad sighed as he looked at your tits wondering how he got so lucky. he then moved both his hands to your waistband and separated from you

“you sure? i just thought you would be tired from the drive.” you couldn’t help but smile at him as he was the most caring and loving boy you have ever met

“for you, always.” he didn’t need another word before dragging both your underwear and pants down and tossed them off the bed to the floor

“careful connie gonna get your room dirty.”

“i’m only fine with that if you cause the mess.” he connected your lips once more as your hands drifted to his jeans. you could do this blindfolded anytime any day of the week. the button popped and you rolled the zipper down and pushed the fabric past his thighs, conrad groaned as it went past his hard erection

“fuck.” he fell to your shoulder

“seems like someone missed me,” you said kissing the side of his head

“give me a break, there’s so much phone sex with you can do.” you couldn’t respond as he bit down on your neck. next thing you knew his boxers were off and he was reaching into his side table for a condom. you designed the box where he kept them as it said ‘for y/n use only’ which you loved and conrad laughed as you gave it to him for his birthday. he ripped open the package and you relaxed on the bed as he slipped the condom on “soft tonight okay? missed you too much.” biting your lip you nodded as he breathed out lining up to you before pushing in little by little getting used to you again

“conrad.” you gasped digging your nails into his back

“i know baby, we have to get used to it again.” he moved a little more as a small whimper came out of you

“just go all the way. this is too much.” he listened to your words and pushed more into you

“fuck!” he bottomed out catching his breath and looked down at your closed-eyed figure “look at me.” he moved your hair from your face and your eyes opened to his pretty face “if it becomes too much, you let me know.”

“okay, i promise.” he relaxed onto you and moved his hips out before pushing them back into you causing both of you to groan

“j-just don’t moan too loud, i got neighbors.” he breathed out. last time you both had sex here conrad got a noise complaint and if he got a second one it would be his last warning for any visitors

“sorry.” you whispered against his lips and his hips slowed movements letting you feel him “don’t slow down.”

“just needed to feel you.” he dipped his head into the crook of your neck holding you close as if he wasn’t inside of you close enough already, you squeezed around him and his body jolted “if you do that again i will cum, and i really don’t want that.”

“then fuck me conrad.” he lifted his head as his eyes darkened over yours

“yes ma’am.” he pulled out all the way and slammed his hips back into yours the sound of skin slapping echoed around the room, he did that multiple times. it wasn’t hard it was telling and passion

As your breaths mixed you both slowly started to lose control. His hips got sloppy and that was a sigh he was getting closer to his edge. But something about conrad is he never wanted to finish first, he wanted you to have to spotlight before he finished after you.

“cant last much longer.” he grabbed one of your hands bringing it above your head and interlocking your fingers together as he looked down between the both of you and where you were connected

“me too.” you arched your back as he hit a spot like never before “fuck.” the man above you continued to hit that g-spot and you started to shake uncontrollably “con-“ he brought his lips down to your mouth and dragged one more thrust before you came, he slowed his movements letting you relax.

“i got you.” he pushed some of your hair away from your face

“did you finish?” the answer was no. he wanted you to feel special even before he could ever

“no it’s okay, i wanted it to be about you-“ you cut him off flipping both of you over carefully as the twin bed didn’t have much room. you slipped the condom off tying it and tossed it in his trash can

“y/n.” he sighed laying back on full display for you

“let me take care of you now.” leaning down his hard erection stayed up, red at the tip wanted to release

“do something baby.” you nodded before taking him all in your mouth

“god i love it when you do that.” using your hands you stroked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth and he bucked into your mouth hearing a gagging sound come from your throat “sorry.” but you ignored him coming up and sucking on the tip before going down again “cumming.” he groaned out and the warm texture filled your mouth some falling out past your lips “fuck, fuck” he held your head in place slowly pumping to get the rest out “good girl.” he sighed and fell back onto his pillow as you swallowed what you could then grabbing his shirt to clean the both of you

“good?” you wanted to make it everything he wanted

“amazing, come here.” he reached for you and you grabbed the blanket at the end of the bed before cuddling into his side covering the think texture over the two of you “i love you.” he looked down at your face

“i love you.” leaning up to kiss him softly he could taste himself on you and he knew there would be many more rounds tomorrow “thank you for visiting.”

“of course, i’d be lost without you conrad fisher.” and you closed your eyes driving off to sleep as he realized, he was gonna marry you one day.

#the summer i turned pretty #tsitp #conrad fisher #prime video #the summer i turned pretty season 2 #conrad fisher one shot #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher x y/n #tsitp team conrad #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher smut #tsitp conrad #conrad fisher x fem!reader #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher imagine #team conrad

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buggachat · 7 months

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seeing a lot of talk of the season 5 finale, which is fun, i get that it was controversial (honestly the fact it was really risky is kind of one of the things i like about it lol) and wanting to add my two cents but can't think of much i haven't already said before

but something i do want to emphasize is that season 5 ending on Marinette telling the biggest, boldest faced lie she's ever told (that goes far beyond "protecting her identity") to kick off the Lila arc is by far the coolest thing they could've done imo, because I was not at all excited for the Lila arc before but now I'm totally invested. Now Lila isn't the Evil Liar to be taken down by Good Marinette. Marinette is the liar to be taken down by the very liar that she took down. It's not a story of "defeat that freakishly evil girl" anymore, but instead a story of "Marinette's own actions and decisions coming back to bite her". And the lie itself (WHICH LILA KNOWS IS A LIE!!) only exists because, and is most impactful towards, her relationship with Adrien, which is the core of the series!! I CARE about their relationship, and that's the stakes!!!

I just cannot get over how cool that is, and how much I didn't expect it. I know we all were expecting a big fight with Ladybug and Chat Noir just defeating Gabriel and then watching Chat Noir cry or whatever in the few remaining minutes of screen-time and then it's all over and done with, but that's a series finale. This was a season finale. And they did something really unique and unexpected with it, while making sure it's a juicy season-finale conflict that leaves me actually excited about season 6

also, a side note— I think the framing of the finale made this confusing so I totally get why discussions about it are kind of all over the place, but... 90% of the post-wish stuff we saw had nothing to do with Gabriel at all. It was all Mayor Bustier, who was already running for mayor and wanted to enact green laws and projected to win (she was up against D'Argencourt, the character whose schtick is that nobody ever votes for him in elections). I don't think Gabriel's wish included "Please, Gimmi, I want my son's school teacher to win the mayoral election this year" lol. So a lot of talk of "why is Gabriel's World presented in such a positive light?" is kind of weird to me. That's not Gabriel's World. That's Caline Bustier's. All we know so far about Gabriel's World is that Nathalie is in it and he is not. And frankly, the fact everyone is so happy and cheerful and living it up after his death is more a roast than anything

( also, just a reminder that the presentation of Gabriel's statue— the only scene discussing Gabriel in a positive light by someone In The Know— was done by Tomoe Tsurugi, a series antagonist, vowing to continue his work, with a song in minor key playing in the background. i feel like the question of "was this meant to be unsettling or triumphant?" is pretty obvious. just wanted to remind everyone. also by definition characters cannot celebrate gabriel as a "hero" without in the same breath celebrating monarch's, aka gabriel's, death. yknow? )

#ml s5 spoilers #re-creation spoilers #ml re-creation #recreation spoilers #ml recreation #as w all my posts this really isnt meant to be an invitation for you to tell me what you didnt like about it #i do GET IT because i think this finale was very risky and intentionally controversial so im not surprised/dont blame you if you hate it bu #i've heard a lot of arguments against it and tbh none have been able to change the fact that I actually like it a lot so #idk would probably be more productive to make your own post about it haha #also side note: WOOOOOOO THE MYSTERIOUS WOMAN CONFIRMED TO BE AMELIE WOOOO #me hearing that it was confirmed like ''why am I gasping? i already knew that''

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chahnniesroom · 6 months

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for better, for worse

pairing: lee minho x female reader

summary: an arranged marriage is anything but ideal. minho knows that when it comes to his role as a husband, he's lacking, but you haven't exactly been the perfect wife either. a phone call from you leads to a shift in priorities.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: angst, mention of a car accident, mentioned death of a minor character

a/n: originally this was going to be part of a longer fic, but i will never write that longer fic, so i decided to post it! the name of this fic is what inspired me to create the till death do us part collection. i hope you enjoy!

part 2 | till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

Minho had never really thought that he’d be married before the age of 30. Sure, he knew that his parents would likely expect it of him, but he prioritised work far too much to have a meaningful relationship with anyone. So it’s not exactly a surprise that when his parents announce that they’ve arranged a marriage with you, Minho doesn’t suddenly become an attentive and doting partner. In fact, even a year later, he still hasn’t gotten very close to you.

Minho knows that when it comes to his role as a husband, he’s lacking, but you haven’t exactly been the perfect wife either. Behind closed doors, you seem openly resentful of this whole situation and do your best to avoid Minho altogether.

Honestly, Minho doesn’t blame you. If he thinks about it, which he tries not to, you have it even worse off than him. You’re younger by a couple years and had been in the process of rising through the ranks of your family’s company when you’d been forced into becoming a dutiful housewife instead of an executive.

You had tried at first, texting him good morning, staying up late to wait for him to get home from work, and making sure the staff always had fresh and healthy meals prepared. Minho feels guilty thinking of how often he had brushed you off, but he had just been promoted and a lot of the executives, your father included, were just waiting to see him make a mistake. The overwhelming pressure had led him to spend more nights than not at the office and when he did go home, his thoughts still revolved on the work he had left to do.

You haven’t done anything drastic to express your dissatisfaction yet, but it feels like it’s only a matter of time.

Tonight would be the perfect way to do so. The two of you are expected to be present for an event, one that Minho has been invited to speak at. His assistant, Jiyu, tells him that it’s the opportunity of a lifetime and stresses how important it is for everything to go according to plan.

Minho heads to the event straight from the office and isn’t surprised that you’re not there before him. Even 30 minutes after the event has officially started, he still doesn’t mind since it’s just been mingling so far, something that he knows you detest. It’s when they sit everybody down to start serving the meal that he starts getting impatient, his temper starting to make itself known.

You know that this night is important for Minho and he’s told you multiple times that he expects you to be there. He knew that you had been picked up on time since he’d even sent his personal driver, Jeonghoon, to get you and Jeonghoon had sent assurances that the two of you were on your way.

You're frustratingly convincing though, Minho has never been able to say no to you and he knows that you've charmed all the household staff as well.

He'd texted Jeonghoon once to check where you were, but hadn't gotten a reply and he just hopes that it's because traffic is bad and not because you're plotting something.

When Jiyu pesters Minho about the lack of your presence, he gives in and calls your cell phone. It rings for a while, and Minho is about to hang up when you finally answer.

“Minho!” you say, sounding delighted. Minho is instantly suspicious. “You’re calling me.”

“Where are you?” he demands coldly. “It’s late.”

“I-I tried to call,” you continue to babble. “This time, I was good, really. I remem-remembered to call Jiyu-ssi instead of your phone. She said you were busy and not to bother you. But they needed someone to come help and I couldn’t think of anyone else.”

“Y/n, are you- are you drunk?” he asks in disbelief. If he sounded cold before, his voice is absolutely frigid now. Someone happens to walk by and they look frightened by whatever expression is on his face based on the way that they scurry past while trying to avoid eye contact.

“No!” you deny vehemently, even though there’s still something odd about the tone of your voice. “I didn’t drink anything! They didn’t let me. They won’t let me do anything. They just gave me this thing and-”

“Where are you.”

“I’m at the hospital,” you say plainly.

“What?” Minho stands up from the table, uncaring of the way that everyone swivels to look at him. He had stayed quiet enough before to prevent eavesdropping, but forgets to keep his voice down reacting to your matter-of-fact response. “What happened?”

“We were driving to the hotel,” you say in a small voice. “I didn’t want to be late. I- I don’t know what happened. There was another car- they were in a rush too.” You stop to hiccup.

“Y/n-” Minho is at the entrance to the ballroom and doesn’t even wait for the staff to heave the doors open, opting to push through them himself. He knows he's making a scene, but he couldn’t care less about anybody else in the room at the moment.

“He’s gone,” you interrupt, sounding hollow. “Jeonghoon. They couldn’t even get him out of the car. I saw it. Him. What was left. There was so much blood.”

It feels like Minho’s stomach drops right to the floor.

“Y/n-”

He can barely hear your reply, instead the rush of his pulse in his ears drowns out any other sound. He's suddenly aware of how shaky his breathing has gotten, shallow gasps that barely provide any oxygen to his lungs.

“It doesn’t feel real,” you say, subdued. “They keep saying that I was really lucky, but it doesn’t feel like it.”

“Are you hurt?” Minho’s almost afraid to ask.

“Oh,” you sound surprised. “Me? I- Don’t worry about me.”

“Don’t worry? Never mind, just tell me what hospital you’re at. I’m on my way.” Minho has forgotten that you're particularly skilled at deflecting questions, even ones that are direct.

“What? No! You can’t leave, you have your speech-”

“Y/n,” Minho says gently. You're starting to sound panicked and since he still doesn't know what your condition is, he doesn't want you to be any more stressed than you already are. “It’s okay, I’ve already excused myself.”

“I know tonight was really important to you,” you say miserably. “I ruined it. I’m sorry. Oh I- Someone’s here, I have to go now. Don't come, please. I’m fine, really. Stay at the event.”

The call ends abruptly and Minho is left staring at his phone.

“Minho-ssi,” Jiyu hisses from beside him. Her heels clack as she tries to keep up with him. Minho's already halfway across the lobby, but he can still see into the ballroom where a number of people are still staring after him. They must think he’s gone crazy. There’s a smile on Jiyu's face, but the tone of her voice is anything but friendly. “What are you doing? They're not finished serving dinner and you have to be on stage soon.”

Minho doesn’t even bother to answer, starting to dial for a car to come pick him up before he realises, dismayed, that he’s pulled up Jeonghoon’s number. He shakes his head for a moment before calling someone else.

Jiyu grabs at his elbow, pulling him to a stop. Even through the layers of his clothes, her nails are sharp pin pricks that dig into the flesh of his arm.

“Minho-ssi, you can’t just leave!”

Minho wrenches himself from her grasp and turns to scowl at her. She stumbles back at the force of his glare for a moment before reaching out again.

“Y/n’s in the hospital,” he explains. That should be enough explanation, but it still doesn’t seem to affect her. "I have to go."

“Tonight is critical if you want to win over enough people for the contract that you’re negotiating. Don’t waste any time worrying about her. If she's at the hospital, there’s nothing that you can do to help Y/n, she’s already being taken care of,” Jiyu says coolly. “Some things are more important.”

Minho stares at her for a long moment.

Jiyu has worked with Minho for a significant portion of his career. Her analytical and no-nonsense way of handling things is part of the reason that he’s been able to make it as far as he has. For the longest time, he had admired her ability to set aside her emotions to make logical, objective decisions.

Now he wonders if she’s just heartless.

Out of the corner of his eye, Minho can see a car pull up to the doors and he makes his own decision.

“Yes," he agrees. Jiyu lets out a sigh of relief and reaches out to tug him back to the ballroom. Minho steps away to avoid her hand. "Some things- some people are more important. I didn't see that before and I won't make that mistake again. Jiyu-ssi, give everybody my apologies that I was not able to stay and then you may go home. Thank you for your service all these years, but I will not be needing you as my assistant any longer."

He doesn't look back.

part 2 | till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

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splataii · 1 year

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so uh @b1ueprinc3 made a post and i was inspired to make this drabble.

pervert manager dabi x male reader

cw: sub/bottom male reader, top/dom character, dacryphilia, degradation, minor exhibitionism, groping

anyway dabi first meets you an just thinks ur so fucking cute. he just loves your enegry and attitude, and becomes a lil too eager to train you, always being a lil touchy. hes down horrendous, always grabbing ur ass to congratulate you for a job well done at the end of the day or whatever.

insists he a “hands on learning” typa guy. always grabbing you by the waist so he can grind his obvious boner against your ass as he scoots behind you. always grabs u by the back of the neck, rubbing a thumb up its side as he leans over your shoulder to look at whatever work has you occupied. grabs you by the beltloop when youre passing him so he can spin you around and tell you about this “important work related thing” while he keeps his fingers pressed into your hips.

he already thinks you look pretty good in the assigned uniform, but one day, he has the genius idea to spill some water or something over you so you're forced to change into a top that's a couple sizes too small (which he insists is the only available uniform, yes it's mandatory, no you can't go home and change).

he promises it was an accident, and that he’ll wash it for you (despite the fact you insist you can clean it yourself) but instead spends his time dropping random shit on the ground so he can see your pants strain against ur ass and the way your shirt rides up your back.

the liar also takes your old shirt to the backroom to fist his cock with, pretending it's ur fucked out face he's cumming on. you ain't never getting that shit back

speaking of jerking off, this bitch does it all the time. specifically does it when youre getting off break and heading to the break rooms, so you can hear the sound of him shamelessly moaning your name as he finishes to another one of his gross fantasies of you laying spread out for him in his bed. he exits the stall and smiles when he sees your face like its no big. always makes sure to give ur ass a nice slap and some half assed “work hard” crap before he leaves you totally embarrassed.

nyway he also a bit overprotective, never stepping more than a couple feet away from you while you're working with a customer, and even other coworkers. he knows people know how cute you are. why would he leave his sweet boy to deal with those random mofos? he just stands behind you glaring when he feels someone is getting too close. you get a little confused, when they eventually leave, terrified, but he's always there to comfort you. your ass is his, you don't need no one else baby<3

he can have a bit of a mean streak sometimes tho, stretching you thin. whenever you (expectedly) fail to meet his impossible deadlines, he’s teasing you. talking about what a dumb little boy you are. he could probably fire you, if he wanted to. but he wont. if you could do this one little thing for him.. he pulls you into an old storage closet, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants so he can slap it on your face and spread his pre all over your cheek and nose. he can't help it, you just look a lot cuter this way. besides, he knows you can take it. dumb little boys like you are only made for one thing. since you're such a bad employee, show him what a damn good whore you are.

dabi claims he's only mean cause he cares. boys like you need to be taught a lesson so no one can take advantage of you. but sometimes, he plays like he's gonna make you answer calls while hes spearing you on his dick, just so he can see your pretty tears as you shake ur head no.

once again, he can have complete one eighty's, giving you all these bonuses and gifts at work saying “you deserve it” and all that shit, but everybody at work knows the reason you get all this special treatment is cause he slutting you out behind closed doors.

at the end of the day, you’re really just dabi’s personal whore. and everyone knows it.

#imma keep it a buck in the tabs #i never have n prolly never will finish mha #so ion know know dabi #but like the way ppl write him is soo good #an he a lil cutie patootie fr #nyway yeah #mha x bottom male reader #dabi x bottom male reader #bottom male reader #male reader insert #x black male reader #male reader smut #splataii writes

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girlygguk · 1 year

Text

denial ; jjk | part two (18+)

➵ summary; your brother, taehyung, doesn't know how to properly handle yours & jungkook's.. agreement. you go over to his place to fix your relationship with him and eat a lot of chinese food. you end up getting a little more than that from his roommate during your visit.

this is part two to denial - part one and i highly recommend reading it first as u won’t understand most of the storyline!! xx

➵ pairing ; idol!jk x (f)actress!reader

➵ word count ; 7.1k

➵ rating ; 18+ minors dni

➵ content ; a bit of fluff, a bit of angst & a whole lotta smut. jk & reader are dumb sluts that will do anything besides admit their feelings for each other, tae is an amazing lil brother, jk & reader fight, jelly & whipped kook as always, stupid reader (sorry)

➵ warnings ; teasing, swearing, grinding, kissing, fingering, spitting, dom!jk, oral sex (f rec.), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it UP! xx), aftercare, cream pie, sexy stuff starts quite late so pwp.

a/n ; holy SHIT. i did not expect the love & reactions on part one of this... thank you so so much. as a token of my gratitude, here is a part 2!!!

"Cut! Well done, guys, that's a wrap!" Your director's voice booms through the studio as the crew applauds. You join in, clapping and returning the bows of everybody you see as you make your way off-set. A teary thirty minutes follow as you say your thankyous and goodbyes to your co-stars and staff, promising to stay in touch during the season break.

You're locking your trailer door when suddenly, your phone buzzes in your pocket. Pulling it out of your jacket eagerly, you tap the screen, hoping to see your brother's name at the top of the notification. You can't help the small wave of disappointment that washes over you as you read the text from your co-star Hee-Jin, saying she's almost at your trailer.

It's been a little over two months since the night that you discovered Taehyung knew about you and Jungkook.

71 DAYS EARLIER...

Your hands run over your face, Jungkook's facewash foamy on your fingers as you rub the cleanser harshly into your skin, almost as if the last 10 minutes of your life will rinse down the drain of the shower along with the overpriced skincare product. You didn't want to wash away the Jungkook part, because as you stood in his shower with jelly legs and a shy soreness between your thighs, you knew that no matter how fucked up it was that your younger brother potentially heard everything, you wouldn't take it back.

So Jungkook was forced to sit patiently on his bed while you took over his bathroom. He wanted to go into the lounge and talk to his best mate, and he really wanted a slice of pizza because sex always makes him hungry, but he knew to let you speak to Taehyung first.

Sure, slamming the door of Jungkook's bedroom shut after seeing your brother in the living room acting as normal as could be probably wasn't the best idea. And then ignoring Jungkook's soft tone as he asked if you were alright, shrugging him off you gently before walking into his ensuite and locking the door... Also not one of your best moments.

You and Jungkook were close friends before your relationship developed sexually. He knew what you wanted to eat before you even did. You knew the punchlines to all of his stupid jokes before he got to it, adding a twist to the end and making him double over in laughter, swearing you tell the joke better than he ever could. You were thankful for that bond right now because Jungkook knew from the moment you walked away that you just needed a minute to collect yourself. He watched silently when you disappeared into his bathroom to shower, not even making a cheeky offer to join you, which is very out of character for him.

He listened as the sound of running water came to a halt and looked up as you emerged from the bathroom a few moments later, the towel he had prepared for himself wrapped around your body. He bit back a smile as he remained on the edge of his bed, watching as you crept towards him, your eyes trailing down to the pile of clothes folded next to him. He had one of his hoodies that you always complimented whenever he wore and a pair of sweatpants perched next to him. His eyes followed your train of sight before flicking back up to your face, "for you," he confirmed your suspicions, his eyes tracing every inch of your doleful expression.

Patting the pile of clothes, he pushed off his knees and stood up before walking to meet you in the middle of his room. You shake your head in awe, standing on the tips of your toes when he reaches you before connecting your lips with his. The kiss is soft and slow, much more wholesome than your usual messy kisses. Jungkook breaks away slightly, his hands running over your towel-covered back before resting on your butt and patting it gently.

"Go talk to him, baby," he says softly, lips lifting slightly to press against your forehead. You nod with a heavy sigh as he makes his way into the bathroom, his turn to shower now.

You can't leave your mind as you pull Jungkook's clothes onto your body. Your brother wasn't even fazed when he saw you in Jungkook's room. And you know for a fact you weren't exactly quiet, so he definitely heard something. God, the thought makes your feel nauseated as you grab one of the hair ties you leave on Jungkook's dresser to throw your hair up into a low bun, ignoring your wet hair hitting the back of your neck as you head for his door.

TODAY...

"So what did he say?" Hee-Jin's voice pulled you from your inner thoughts, causing you to let out a dazed hum in response before she continued. "Taehyung, how did he react?"

You look over at the girl on your left as you walk through the parking lot, two bouquets of flowers clutched in your hands as you both reach your car. "He already knew. I can't believe he already knew," your voice was strained as you shook your head in embarrassment. Hee-Jin's lips pulled into her mouth, and her eyes squinted slightly; you knew she was conflicted on whether to laugh or cry with you.

"You're such a bitch. It's not funny." You pouted before your body betrayed you, an airy laugh blowing through your lips and swatting at the girl with occupied arms as best as you could.

She giggled at your attempt, leaning against your car with you, her own flowers resting in her arms as well. "So he's okay with it?"

Your eyes lift from the ground, turning slightly to face her, "I can't tell," you say honestly, "he barely even reacted even when I tried to talk to him. I think he doesn't even want to think about it."

Hee-Jin nodded with a sorry look after seeing your sullen expression. "I mean, how would you react if you found out your sister was getting fucked by your best friend? I wouldn't want to think about it either."

Her brutally honest remark caught you off guard, pulling a low snort out of you before you fished your keys out of your jacket pocket to unlock your car. "Get off my car. I've had enough of you." Hee-Jin pokes her tongue at you before pushing off the side of your vehicle and heading to her own.

"Love you! You know I'm right!" She smiles as she waddles away, ignoring the eye roll you throw her as you shove the bouquets onto your passenger seat.

"Love you," is the last thing you grumble back before jumping into your car and slamming the door.

Your phone vibrates from your jacket pocket as you're halfway through buckling your seatbelt. Pulling it out, you bite your lip and send a quick response before shoving the key into your car's ignition. Then, ignoring the bubbles brewing in the pit of your stomach, you pull out of the parking lot and head for the destination your friend awaits.

Jungkook is hot. It's the boys' day off today, and he just finished up in the gym, his arms throbbing a little more than usual. He went a little harder during this session because he's planning on skipping a couple of upcoming days to chill. It has nothing to do with the fact that he knows you've wrapped up filming for the season and are heading home today. Not at all.

Twisting the cap onto the water bottle he just devoured in seconds, he throws it in the trash can before leaving the kitchen. He's almost at his bedroom before his eyes roll to the back of his head, retreating sluggishly to the garbage can before fishing the bottle back out. A low scoff leaves him as he tosses the bottle into the recycling bin instead, your sarcastic little comment plaguing his inner thoughts. You're not even here, and he's doing what you say. He's fucking whipped, and he knows it.

Reaching his bedroom successfully this time, he grabs a set of clean clothes from his drawers and throws them on his bed for when he's out of the shower. Then, heading towards his ensuite, he catches his phone on top of his dresser and stares at it for a second.

"Hi, Koo." You answer after two rings, and he sits on the foot of his bed when he hears your voice.

"Hi," he replies after a beat, fighting the side of his mouth as it tries to lift when he hears his nickname flow effortlessly from your mouth. "Watcha doin'?"

He hears you shuffle a little.

Closing the magazine you were browsing before you got the call, you smile at Jungkook's voice, your eyes scanning the room to ensure you didn't miss getting called up. "I'm actually at Modify."

His eyebrows furrow, "my tattoo place?"

"Yeah, but I'm not getting a tattoo—just a piercing with a friend. I asked for Riki, just like you said to. He's really nice."

"Yeah, he's the best. Did you chuck it on my account?" He nods, pulling at the thread of his towel absentmindedly.

"No," you chuckle, "but thank you. You're cute for offering."

He feels his eyes roll back again, a habit he picked up from you, "you should. I have some account credit I have to use before it expires," he lies, and you bite back a smile knowing that he's full of shit.

"You're back earlier than I thought." Jungkook changes the subject, and you lean back into the couch's cushion before answering.

"Yeah, I just got back into Seoul like an hour ago. Decided to get it done here rather than Gwacheon so I can go home and rest afterwards."

You're thankful for Jungkook's random call to be honest. His voice calmed down your nerves exponentially; you forgot how jittery you were. "What are you getting pierced?" He asks, pulling you back to reality.

You feel your face getting hotter, and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on it for a moment too long because his hum into your phone speaker breaks the extended silence. "Um," your lips are pursed now, wondering if you should be telling him over the phone.

Jungkook's eyebrows raise, and he shuffles back a little more on the edge of his bed before continuing, "Are you getting a piercing down there?"

Your laugh flows through the phone, returning that feeling to his stomach. "No, perv." You sigh through a smile, "My nipples."

You hear him blow out a low breath before he chuckles, "Jesus. Happy birthday to me."

You're quick to roll your eyes and fail to wipe the smile off your face before giggling at his reaction. You see Riki pop his head out the door of his booth before he waves at you, indicating it's your turn to go up. Nodding back at him, you signal that you're just wrapping up your phone call, and he gives you a thumbs-up before ducking away.

"It's my turn. I have to go, Kook." You say into your phone, standing from the couch and fixing the cushions that fell as you stood.

Jungkook nods on the other end of the line before clearing his throat slightly and running a hand through his sweaty hair. "Hey, _____?"

"Yeah?" You respond as you walk towards Riki's room, watching as he finishes up with his previous customer.

"What friend are you with?"

A moment passes as Jungkook's question lingers in the air, stopping you in your tracks. You're standing just before the entrance of Riki's suite, and you glance down at your shoes for a second before sighing. "Kook—"

Jae's confused look causes you to stop talking as he climbs off the studio chair-bed, approaching you. "You okay?"

Jungkook heard Jae's voice through the phone. You know he did because when he abruptly ends the call, muttering something about "I have to go shower," you're pulling your phone back and seeing the disconnected symbol flashback at you from the device's screen.

The chime of your door accepting the access code fills your ears as you push down on the handle with your elbow, a little shove from your hip pushing the door open enough to slide inside. After locking the door, you drop the wilting flowers on the kitchen island and head to the sink to grab some water, hoping to try and cling to the little life they look to have left.

Your phone dings while you're filling up a random dish with water, as you don't actually own a vase. A cringed laugh leaves your lips when you pull the flowers out of the paper encasing and dump them into the sad container of water. "I should've just let you die. This is just sad." You mumble, walking to the chair where you chucked your jacket and phone.

Tae

Miss you. Heard you're home. Dinner tn?

You blink away the tears stinging in your waterline, sending back an of course and snorting when he spams you with a bunch of random excited emojis. You haven't talked much since the night at his a few months ago, and it's been eating away at you ever since. You have always been close with your siblings. Taehyung, especially since you both left home to pursue your careers in similar industries. You were quick to leave his apartment when it was clear he didn't exactly want to talk, and you didn't blame him.

You

just gonna shower then i'll pop over

The shower was quick; you only cut yourself slightly at the bottom of your knee when shaving your legs. That's what you call success. As you pull on your shirt, you're trying not to catch your new piercings on the fabric when your eyes flutter to the bulletin board of Polaroids of you and your friends. Your eyes automatically go to the stupid one smack bang in the middle.

You're both sitting on the floor of your living room in the picture, a big cheesy grin covering Jungkook's face while you lean next to him with your tongue poking out. Jungkook turned to you as soon as you finished taking the photo, poking his tongue at you before letting his impulsive thoughts take over and licking a fat stripe over your cheek. You remember screeching and trying to push him away in a fit of giggles before conceding and allowing him to continue his attack.

Such a dork, you think as you're pulling your jeans over your legs. But, as much as you like to try and convince yourself you're not helplessly infatuated with him, you can't help but hope he's at dinner tonight.

Your brother is warm as he engulfs you in a bear hug when you enter the apartment. Smiling as you break away, you hit his shoulder playfully and laugh as he holds the injured area with a dramatic whine. "I should hit you harder than that for ignoring my texts."

"I'm sorry. I was just in a mood," Taehyung responds with a regretful smile.

"I know. I'm sorry too." You nod understandingly, pulling your jacket off and hanging it over one of the stools near the kitchen bar.

His low chuckle follows you as you both head to the living room. You roll your eyes at the spread of Chinese takeaway covering the large coffee table in front of the TV. "You guys have a huge kitchen and dining area, but I've never seen you actually eat in there."

"Food tastes better in front of the TV." He says simply, jumping onto the couch and patting the spot next to him.

You make your way to the couch and flop next to your brother, the smell of the spread in front of you making you hum in delight. You're both about to tuck in when he curses under his breath, climbing off the sofa with a promise to return with chopsticks. You lean forward and grab a dumpling with your fingers before dipping it in one of the sauces Taehyung laid out. It's almost in your mouth when the door to Jungkook's bedroom creaks slightly, causing you to put the dumpling back down and stare as he enters the lounge. He's dressed in a plain black shirt and sweats, and you drink in his figure shamelessly when he comes into view.

He spots you instantly as he walks further into the room, and you notice his eyes drop slightly to your chest, a short laugh blowing through your lips when you realise he's trying to see the imprint of the nipple piercings you said you were getting done today. "Hi, Koo—"

Your brother's voice cuts you off when he enters the living room again, "Kook! You hungry? There's heaps."

You take a pair of chopsticks when Tae hands you them, returning to your earlier action and grabbing the dumpling but successfully shoving it in your mouth this time. Your gaze lifts back to Jungkook as you chew, watching curiously as he looks at the food, looks at you, and then looks back to your brother. "Nah, bro, not hungry." He replies lowly before turning around and heading back into his room.

"Why did he come out then?" Taehyung snickers, leaning forward and slurping up a mouthful of noodles. You cough out a laugh, grabbing another dumpling and stuffing it into your mouth to avoid having to say anything. You knew why Jungkook was in a grump, and you also knew that he was definitely hungry. He's always hungry. You continue eating and internally decide that you will fix both of those problems before leaving the apartment tonight.

You and Taehyung talked for an hour and a half after you finished your dinner. It started on the topic of work—how your drama was going and how his shows were going. Then it got to the huge fucking Jungkook-shaped elephant in the room. You cried and apologised non-stop, and he kept telling you to cut it out, hugging you into his chest and telling you he wasn't mad. That life happens, and you can't help it." I'm supposed to be your big sister." You remember crying as he chuckled while patting your back like one would a newborn.

"How l-long did you know?" You hiccupped after breaking away from the embrace, reaching for your cup of water on the coffee table.

"Well, a few times, I caught him smiling at his phone and saw your name on the screen as I walked past. Or when he would shamelessly check you out whenever you'd come over. I thought he was just a horny douche," Tae laughed as you rolled your teary eyes, "but one night really caught me off guard. We were watching the first episode of your new drama when it dropped, and when the flashback kissing scene came on, he went dead quiet. Wouldn't talk for the rest of the episode and then went to his room when it finished."

"Jungkook," you say as you knock on his bedroom door, "I made you a plate. Can I come in?"

On the other side, Jungkook is lying on his bed, arm resting against the headboard behind his head, and tongue poking the inside of his cheek when he hears you call him by his actual name instead of a nickname like you usually do. He stays quiet and continues to scroll through a random social media app on his phone; he can't even tell you which one at this point. He's just trying not to give in. Call you in and shower your dumb face in kisses like he wants to. Pull your shirt up and see your newly pierced nipples because it's all he's been thinking about since you told him.

"I'm coming in, okay? Cover up!" You warn snarkily and smile in satisfaction when you hear him snort as you push the door open and step inside.

Jungkook's eyes flutter to you as you shut the door with your foot and shuffle over to his bed. His phone locks from inactivity, and he lets it slip from his hand as he watches you sit on the side of his bed, a plate of Chinese held in your hands as you poke his thigh with the chopsticks. "Eat."

He stares at your face for a second when you speak, his gaze lifting to your puffy eyes, making him sit up a little against the headboard. "Have you been crying?"

"Nothing gets past you, Sherlock." You mutter jokingly, leaning forward and placing the plate of food on his lap. "I know you're hungry. Hurry up and eat before I start feeding you."

He takes hold of the chopsticks when you wriggle them into his hand. Then, before you can pull your hand back, he grabs ahold of your palm, lifting it to his lips and placing a soft kiss on the top of your hand. "Thank you." He mumbles softly, grabbing some of the rice with the chopsticks before shoving it in his mouth.

"What are your plans tomorrow? I've got an interview on Thursday, but I don't have anything on tomorrow and was wondering if—"

"Why don't you go and do something with Jae?" He says after swallowing his mouthful, causing the words to cut off in your throat. Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at him in shock.

"Really?" You spit with a laugh, watching as he swirls the food around on his plate, his appetite suddenly vanishing.

"Yeah," he replies with a shrug, "we both agreed that we don't have the time to date. But you sure do go out on a lot of dates with him."

"This is about the piercings, right?" You can't help the tone of your voice rising, but you're slowly getting more pissed off by the second.

"The piercings, the concert, the ice cream. I'm sure there's a fuck tonne I don't know about too." He chuckles sorely, leaning over to his bedside table and setting down the barely touched plate of food.

"He's my co-worker. We are the leads in a show together; it's good for viewership for us to be seen together!" You stand from the bed, your voice getting even louder now, and you have to remind yourself to calm down so you don't bother your brother a few doors down.

"For viewership," he nods sarcastically, "getting your nipples pierced with your co-worker is good for viewership?" He can't help but laugh, his throat getting that familiar scratchy feeling as he imagines that fucker being in the room with you while you got them done.

"I've been planning them for a long time. You knew I wanted to get them done."��

"Why with him, ___?" Your nickname slipped venomously through his lips, "Why'd you go with him?" Jungkook's tone is low, almost defeated, as he refuses to make eye contact with you.

"He overheard me saying to Hee-Jin that I was going to do it today. He said he was planning on getting his nose pierced and offered to go with me," Jungkook is shaking his head now, his tongue rolling against the inside of his cheek as he tries not to think about it.

"Yeah, alright, _____. I'm tired, so—"

"Don't do that." You spit, cutting him off, and he raises his head to meet your eyes finally.

"Do what?"

"Don't shut me out. I hate it when you do that." You sigh, a hand lifting to run through your hair in frustration. Jungkook is quiet as he watches your chest heave while you calm down from yelling. He can't help his eyes falling to your tits, and you watch his eyebrows crease when he tries to find the imprint of the piercings.

"I didn't do it." You jab, and Jungkook's eyes lift to your face in pure confusion. At that moment, his stare drifts to your left ear and then your right, noticing the second addition to your lobes that he didn't see before. "Some lunatic called me before I got them done. He sounded pretty pissed, so I just got my ears done again." You snark, your eyes rolling back when you notice Jungkook's cheeky fucking smirk reappear on his lips.

You're close enough to the bed for him to gently lean forward and grab your arm. Before you have the chance to shrug him off, he's pulling you towards him, and you don't fight it as you fall onto the bed. Before you know it, he's ushering you onto his lap, his lip caught slightly between his teeth, and you have to stop yourself from leaning forward and kissing him. He's so pretty.

"I like when you do things for me." He mumbles, his thumbs rubbing a soothing pattern on your hips as your shirt rises up slightly with your movement.

A soft hum escapes you as you allow more of your weight to press into him. The fabric of your jeans is rough against his crotch, and you can feel your lower body getting warmer by the second. "I know," you whisper, giving in and moving forward to press your mouth against his.

Jungkook's hands slide from your hips to your lower back when you lean forward, and he cheekily drops them to your ass, grabbing a greedy handful as you deepen the kiss. Your jaw slacks slightly when you feel him squeeze your ass, and he takes the opportunity to delve his tongue through your lips. His tongue brushes with your own, and he swallows the breathy moan that escapes as you allow him deeper into your mouth. Your hips move on their own accord, grinding harder into his lap, and he groans when you press down harshly, the denim of your jeans brushing him roughly through his pants.

"Shit." He moans as he breaks away from your lips. His hands don't leave your ass; if anything, he grips tighter before pressing you harder against him. You can feel him getting stiffer beneath you, making you whine at the feeling of him going from soft to hard between your legs.

"You're not hungry anymore?" You breathe as he flips you over so he's on top of you, his hands hastily working on the buttons of your jeans.

"No, I am." His voice is low as he makes his way down your body, pressing a soft kiss to the skin of your belly that reveals as your shirt rides up. Jungkook's lips move to your hipbone as he drags your zipper down, your jeans loose enough the slip off, and he drags them down, chucking them onto his floor without another thought.

He pats the side of your left thigh with his hand, and your knees come up instantly, understanding his wordless demand. "Really hungry," he mumbles, leaning down and attaching his mouth to your pussy through your panties. A whine leaves your lips instantly, hips involuntarily bucking into his face as he licks at your clit through the fabric. Your hands reach down to grab onto him, but you come up a little short. Jungkook notices and shuffles up a bit, letting you tangle your fingers through his hair, a satisfied hum leaving him when you tug at the strands harshly. He hooks a finger in the waistband of your underwear before sliding them down your legs, grunting at the sight of your glistening cunt. "So pretty."

"My pussy is pretty?" You choke through a moan as he lets a line of spit drip from his mouth onto you.

"Really pretty," he confirms before leaning down and burying his mouth into your cunt. Your eyes roll back as his lips wrap around your clit, his tongue peaking through to flick the nub as he sucks.

"F-Fuck," You groan as his right-hand grips your thigh, reassuringly squeezing as if coaxing you through it. Your eyes are squeezed shut; the wet, messy sounds of him devouring you are all you can hear. All you can feel.

Your eyes open as Jungkook pulls away, and you watch through hooded lids as he leans back a little before taking his middle and ring finger into his mouth. He coats them in as much saliva as possible before leaning down and placing a quick, sweet kiss on your clit. You let a giggle slip at the action before a high-pitched moan blows through your lips. He pushes both of his fingers fully into you, not stopping until he hits knuckle. "Holy shiiiiiiiit," you seethe, fingers untangling from his hair to rest at the back of his head.

Once his fingers are buried in you, he returns to your cunt, tongue lapping at your clit with vigour. He pulls the throbbing bud into his mouth, groaning when you push the back of his head further into you. He's nodding into your pussy, telling you to push harder without saying a word. "Kook." You whine, your fingers shakily entangling into his hair again and pulling him into you like he wants. His fingers haven't left you at all, and he curls them up, toying with that rigid spongey part. The tips of his fingers push at it teasingly, and it causes you to clench tightly around him, wanting to keep his hand trapped there forever.

He feels you start to shake, and his mouth moves with you, lips refusing to let go of your clit. "Fuck my tongue," he says as he pulls away slightly for air, "right now. Fuck my face."

"Oh my fucking god," you moan at his words, head falling back into his pillow as he goes back down again. His nose is buried in you now; the sloppy sounds of him slurping on your cunt spread goosebumps over your body. His fingers finally leave your hole before he leans a little lower, shoving his tongue into you. "Babyyyy, shit!" Your words come out as a mixture between a cry and a moan as he pistons his tongue into your hole, his fingers coated in your slick sliding up to circle your clit.

"Fuck. My tongue." You can barely make out his demand as he doesn't relent his torture on your cunt, his words coming out muffled. Finally, you heave out a strangled moan before letting go and grinding your hips into his face. He moans in satisfaction, vibrating straight through your core, and you feel your legs begin to tremble.

"Come on, baby," Jungkook's words come out almost unintelligible again as his tongue continues to fuck into you, pulling a pornographic whine from your lips. "Good girl," he hums. His fingers are swirling against your swollen clit, maintaining a steady but ferocious pace, and it's blurring your vision. You can't stop yourself from bucking up into his face, earning a low groan when his tongue curves just right in your hole, and you push him into you so hard he can't breathe. Your right-hand slips out of his hair, slamming down onto his bed, your first unclenching to pull at his sheets with a trembling hand. His fingers lift off your clit for a second, and it's like you almost don't even notice it because his tongue takes its place, slurping your bud into his mouth. You hear shuffling and look up to see him pull his cock out of his sweats. You can't see it properly because he's kneeling at the edge of the bed, but you've witnessed the action enough to know when it's happening.

Once his cock is free, he stands from his knee, his hand wasting no time before reattaching to your clit. You can't take it anymore, your head turning to bury itself into his pillow to muffle your scream. The smell of his shampoo is embedded into the pillowcase, making your heart beat even faster, which you thought was simply impossible right now. Your toes curl as his thumb massages your clit, your hand lifting to grip the pillowcase tightly in your fist. "Gguk, I'm gonna—"

"I know, baby," he nods, his unoccupied hand reaching down to grasp his shaft in his hand before leaning forward and pushing into you. That's it. You're done for.

"Oh! Oh, my fuck!" You scream as Jungkook shoves every inch of his cock into you, his balls flush against your entrance when he hits the base. He doesn't move. His thumb continues the torture on your clit, and he feels your walls tighten sorely around him as your back arches slightly off the bed. Your ears are ringing; eyes rolled to the back of your head as your chin points to the ceiling.

"That's it, baby. Cream my fucking cockkkkk." He praises as you shake around him, your orgasm hitting you in a sudden wave. You think you're crying; you can't actually tell. Jungkook's eyebrows are furrowed as he stares in awe at your pussy convulse around him, watching your puffed clit pulse as you cum. "Shit," he whispers as he slowly slides his dick out of you for the first time since he entered you.

He doesn't let it fully slip out, instead pulling back until your lips are swallowing just the tip. He almost fucking growls when he sees his cock emerge sticky and wet, listening to you whine when he inches it gently back inside. "Are you trying to fucking kill me?" you groan, your hand coming up to rest against his chest. The side of his mouth pulls upwards as you let your hand slide under his shirt, nails tracing softly against his toned stomach. Your touch doesn't do anything to stop him, though, his gentle thrusts continuing as he watches your face for any sign of serious pain.

"God, you are," your words come out strangled, followed by a few shallow breaths as your pussy lets out a loud squelch every time he sinks back in.

"You can take it, right, baby?" Jungkook's tone is low and sinful. His gaze drops back to where you two are connected, his hips speeding up a little on each thrust. He watches as your eyes squeeze shut again, your hand that's under his shirt balling into a fist as you slam it against his chest. The shaky sensitivity in your pussy is strong, choked breaths slip from your mouth like a second language as you fight the overstimulation. "You always. Take it. So. Well." He's praising you between thrusts, and they're becoming more brutal with each one. Jungkook's head falls back a little as you squeeze around him slightly, listening to the sloppy noise of your cunt mixed with your moans. It's euphoric.

Suddenly, it's like a switch flicked in your brain because the pain turns to absolute pleasure, and your jaw slacks in pure ecstasy. Jungkook notices the transition and kneels on the bed, hooking his arms under the backs of your knees and pulling you down so you're flush against him. Your hand falls from his chest and next to you limply. You don't even have the power to move it as Jungkook slides his cock out of you before slamming it back in harder, then harder, then harder. He doesn't pull out until he's filled you to the brim, waiting to feel his balls hit your ass before pulling back and repeating the motion. You go to moan, though nothing comes out but an airy screech, your throat feeling raw and abused, just like your poor vagina right now.

"Slut," he mumbles sweetly, leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. You giggle against his mouth, using all the energy you have left to lift your hands and run them through his dishevelled hair before pulling him down to lay on you.

You feel Jungkook start to shake slightly, his usual giveaway that he's close. Breaking away from the kiss, your legs wrap around his butt and pull him into you as deeply as you can. "Mhm," you moan with a fucked out look on your face, hair sprawled out on his pillow, and he swears it's the prettiest he's ever seen you.

"There?" He grunts, the tip of his cock hitting that rigid spongey bit as he plows into you.

"Mhm!" Your moan sounds distressed and crazed, but you can't even bring yourself to care. Your hands rack through Jungkook's hair, trailing down his back, and your nails dig into his skin as he slams his hips back, mercilessly fucking you into the bed. "There. There. Fucking thereeeeee!" You scream as his cock hits a part inside you that you didn't even know existed.

"Shit," he groans as your walls tighten around him, "I'm gonna fucking cum. Clench again, baby. Please. Please fuckk," He's begging, and your eyes roll to the back of your head at his whiny tone. His face falls to the crook of your neck as you give him what he needs, clenching your walls around him, and you hear him choke out a pained moan before he pushes into you with a final trembled thrust. He spills himself inside of you, painting the walls of your cunt, and you relish in the feeling.

You're so close; the feeling of his cum inside of you only makes you even more aroused. "Keep going," your voice is hurried and hoarse, "Baby, please. Keep going. Keep goinggg. I'm close." You cry, your hand patting against his back in a pleading motion.

Jungkook can't do anything but growl into your neck as he pulls his hips back; the loud noise of his cum stuffed into you, squelching around his cock as he draws back, is fucking sinful. He ignores the burning feeling of sensitivity. He ignores the fact that his cock is softening by the second. Instead, he focuses on your moans of pleasure, pulling his face from your neck to watch your face contort in bliss. You can't take it anymore when his hand falls between you, thumb finding your clit without even fucking looking. "I'm. Gonna. Cum." You're shaking as he pounds into you, his thumb relentless on your clit.

"Yeah?" He leans down, spitting harshly onto your cunt. "Fucking cum then," he taunts, his thumb sliding against your clit furiously.

You can't speak. You can't open your eyes. You can't even breathe. You're surprised a strangled whimper finds its way from your throat, a blinding white flashing as your orgasm hits you. It washes over you like a tidal wave, and your back arches off the bed as you cum. Jungkook curses at the feeling of you pulsating around him and works you through your orgasm with a pained shudder.

As soon as you cower away from his touch, your pussy not able to handle the pressure on your clit any longer, he retracts his hand and heaves out a shaky breath. His hand pulls at the neckline of his shirt, slipping it off him and exposing his gorgeous abs. You can't even enjoy the sight properly, slumped against his pillow, harsh breaths blowing from your lips as you try to grasp back on reality. Jungkook lays the shirt under your butt, a low groan escaping him when he slips out of you, his cum drooling out of you and pooling onto his shirt. You look at him through squinted eyes as he stares at his seed dripping out of your hole, admiring it like a priceless piece of art. You watch as he bites his lip before tilting his head towards you with a cheeky smile.

Your eyes widen at his silent question, mouth opening in shock as you lift a shaky leg to swat at him with your foot. "If you try putting your dick anywhere near me right now, I'll fucking castrate you," you threaten as he chuckles at your reaction, letting his shirt capture the excess leakage before hobbling off to the bathroom to get a cloth.

You've managed to calm your breathing while listening to the bathroom tap squeak as Jungkook runs a washcloth under the water. He returns a few moments later, leaning down to press a quick kiss against your belly before he cleans you up. He's pulled his sweatpants back up now, but he's still shirtless, and you admire the way the muscles in his back tense as he goes to throw the dirty laundry in his hamper. He also grabs the plate of food that he abandoned on his bedside table before jogging it out to the kitchen. A comfortable silence washes over you both as he returns, and you just enjoy staring at his figure as he makes his way back to bed. Jungkook hands you back your panties before sitting on the side of the bed. He watches you tiredly sit up to wriggle them on before sliding back down and slamming your head onto the pillow.

"You're staying the night?" He asks in shock. You're always so quick to leave his place after sex; he does the same when it's at your place.

"We've had sleepovers before," you mumble into his pillow, snuggling deeper into his blanket.

He hums, slipping into the bed himself, and your warm arm moves under the blanket to drape over his chest. "Not after sex."

"Do you want me to go?" You reply quietly after a beat, your finger tracing light patterns on his upper chest.

Jungkook looks down at your hand, then your face. Your eyes meet his, and he just shakes his head, making you give him a soft smile in return. Your eyes flutter shut as he shuffles closer to you before he grabs your leg and drapes it over his waist. Jungkook follows suit, eyes closing as his breathing evens out. He's almost asleep, feeling your warm skin pressed against him, acting as the best sleeping pill money could buy. That is, until your voice breaks the silence.

"You would look so good with a lip ring."

His heavy eyelids peel open as he glances down at you. Your matted hair frames your face; eyes still shut. Your cheek is pressed against his chest; he could feel your lips move against him as you spoke.

"You're so random," Jungkook mumbles with a chuckle before closing his eyes again. He feels your lips pucker slightly, pressing a feathery, light kiss against his nipple as you let sleep take over you. The feeling is soothing, and all he can think about as the darkness engulfs him is getting a fucking lip ring.

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