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dreaming-medium · 10 months ago

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Watch Your Six

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Sensory Deprivation - Han Jisung

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Word Count: 14.8k

Summary: After training for years, you finally become a full fledged agent for KDOI, the Korean Division of Intelligence. Over time, each and every agent becomes something like a family member, including the high-tech nerd who has managed to put a smile on your face since day one. What happens when he's sent with you on his first field mission?

Warnings: Violence, smut (18+) MDNI

A/N: Kinktober is a state of mind. I know its January idc lol I will finish the list of prompts even if it kills me

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Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

The sound your sneakers make on the treadmill reverberates through the gym. The expensive, high tech plastic mask strapped to your face fogs up with each exhale and clears with each inhale.

To your right, a man holds a clipboard, glasses covered eyes watching your vitals displayed on the monitor hooked up to the mask and other various wires clipped to your body.

You’ve been running for about an hour straight, but your breathing is still even; and just by glancing down at the screen, your heart rate looks the same.

For months, you’ve been training with the federal agency to be one of their field agents. Countless nights were spent pushing yourself to the limit, physically and mentally.

Today was your final evaluation before becoming a full-fledged agent. You were selected out of the hundreds of trainees to test to move on.

It was a great honor, all your hard work was finally paying off.

Maybe you’ll get your first mission after this!

If you pass.

A small bead of sweat drops down the side of your face.

Bored, your eyes wander over to the man studying your every heartbeat.

The thick rimmed glasses that sat on his face have slid down his nose a bit. His lips seem to sit in a constant pout thanks to those pudgy cheeks of his.

Choppy, fluffy brown hair sits on his head like a mop. You can tell he’s run his fingers through it more than a handful of times to get it out of his eyes.

A crisp white lab coat rests over a hoodie and khaki pants. A few different pens and instruments sit in the pocket under an embroidered ‘J’ .

You’ve seen him around the trainees once or twice in the years you’ve been here. From what you’ve gathered, he was one of the technical experts, providing countless gadgets and gizmos for the field agents to use.

The guy that would give the secret agent a lipstick taser before embarking on their world class espionage mission.

He’s pretty and smart— what a lethal combination.

When the man looks back up at the treadmill, your eyes flick back to dead ahead of you.

Reaching forward, he hits the stop button on the treadmill and jots down a few notes on his clipboard, a tiny smile pulls at his handsome face.

The treadmill comes to a gradual stop and so do your legs. One hour exactly sits on the clock.

Nervously, you look down at the screens, to his monitor, looking at anything you can.

“You did extremely well, 586.” There’s a happy tilt to his tone while he scribbles down some more notes, flipping the page, then writing some more. “You can take the mask off now.”

Nodding, you gently take the mask off your face and drape it over the top of the treadmill.

“I have one more examination for you.” He clicks a few buttons on the computer to the side.

Patiently, you stand there waiting for instruction.

He looks up at you with amusement glinting in his big, brown eyes. “You don’t need to be so stiff with me, 586, that’s not part of the tests.”

Your shoulders relax and sag forward a bit. “Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Understandable.” He grabs a hold of the cart with the machines on it and rolls it to the side. “Most, if not all, trainees are during their examination. I can’t remember a trainee that wasn’t nervous— well, maybe M, but he’s a special case.”

“Are you J?” you ask, looking down at his lab coat.

“I am,” he answers and steps closer to the treadmill.

He reaches forward and unsnaps the wires hooked onto the leads on your chest. The sticker part stays on, but the wires are removed. Which means you’ll probably be hooked up to another machine soon.

“I’ve seen you around before,” you say to him, studying his face up close.

“I’m always around everywhere,” he jokes, unhooking more wires. “I don’t think there’s a square inch of this agency I haven’t seen.”

“Are you a field agent?”

He scoffs. “No, not me. I could never handle that.”

“But you’re an agent.”

He moves his head side to side. “Of sorts, yeah. B needed a tech guy, so technically I’m an agent. But if you were to send me on a mission, I might cry. I leave those sorts of things up to C or S, or any one of the other agents. Just not me.”

You nod with a small smile of your own.

“Follow me.”

Following his orders, you step off the treadmill and follow after him out of the gym.

“Is there only one of each letter?” you ask.

J laughs. “Actually, yeah.” He leads you towards a side room, it looks like an interrogation room with a large contraption on the center of the table. “It’s easier that way.”

He motions for you to take a seat across the table.

“And unless you fail this psych evaluation, I believe we’re going to be back to 26 again.” J starts fiddling with the machine, pulling wires and leads off the top.

A happy pang goes through your heart. Thank god he hasn’t hooked up the heart monitor yet, he would’ve seen it skyrocket.

“You think?” Nervously, you shift around in the chair.

J chuckles. “I do. I haven’t seen a perfect exam like this in a while. Plus, we saw all the extra training you were putting in.”

Your mouth opens a bit in shock. J looks over at you, holding the wires ready to snap to the leads on your chest.

“We have eyes everywhere, 586. Did you really think we didn’t see that?”

An embarrassed flush crawls on your neck and turns your ears red. “Of course, I know that.”

Again, he chuckles and snaps all the wires to the leads. His fingers are warm in contrast with the cold air of the exam room. Each time his knuckles brush against your skin the feeling lingers.

He places a strap around your head that has two metal leads pressing into your forehead. Even more wires from that strap lead down to the detector.

J looks down at the wires and then turns on the machine. It whirrs to life and a needle starts scribbling out your heart rate on the top.

It’s a lie detector. Of sorts. It looks like more than that.

You’re not going to pretend to understand anything, though. That’s his job.

His eyes watch the needle, he then reaches forward and clips a small cuff on your finger— a steady beeping follows it.

“There we go,” he mutters to himself and takes a seat across from you.

J shuffles papers around on the clipboard to rearrange them.

A large mirror sat on the wall behind him. There’s no way that’s not one way glass. Is there anyone on the other side watching your evaluation? Or is it just the two of you? Is there another higherup keeping track of your answers? Maybe it’s B? Or maybe other agents are spectating to see how you are.

You would be working closely with them, after all. If the roles were reversed, you’re sure you would watch.

“Ready?” J’s voice interrupts your thoughts.

Your eyes snap to him and you nod.

“Is your name Y/N L/N?” he asks, looking down at the clipboard.

It’s been so long since you’ve heard your real name. Two years? Yeah, two years. You’ve only been referred to as 586 since you joined.

“Yes.”

J looks at the contraption for a few seconds, taking note of the way it moves. He makes a small tick on the paper.

“Can you verify your date of birth for me?”

You do as he says, saying it like second nature. Again, he repeats the same motion of watching your heart rate and making a small tick.

The questions start out simple. Where were you born? What are your parent’s names? Do you have any siblings? All questions that you would make a security question for your bank.

“Now, let’s get to the real questions. Just answer honestly and you have nothing to worry about, okay, 586?” J’s voice is calm and smooth.

Something about this guy makes you want to tell him everything regardless of if you’re hooked up to several machines.

“Have you ever been contacted by an external government agency prior to enlisting in KDOI?”

KDOI: The Korean Division of Intelligence. Your dream job since you were a young girl.

“No.”

After your answer, J watches your heart rate for even longer than before. He makes a tick on the clipboard.

“Have you ever been contacted by an external government agency after enlisting in KDOI?”

“No.”

Another tick.

“Have you ever participated in an organized event that openly opposed KDOI?”

“No.”

Tick.

“Have you ever had malicious thoughts about KDOI or the agents working within it?”

“No, quite the opposite. I admire KDOI.” You add the last part with a sheepish smile.

J grins when he makes the next tick on the paper.

“Next section…” he murmurs. “Have you recently had thoughts of suicide?”

“No.”

Tick.

Question after question comes from his mouth. You answer honestly to each of them, not even hesitating to let the reply leave your lips.

“Did you have thoughts of suicide prior to enlisting in KDOI?”

“No.”

Tick.

“Do you ever have thoughts of harming others?”

“No.”

Tick.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“N- what?” Your eyes widen and you stare at him incredulously. There’s no way that’s on the evaluation.

J feigns ignorance and points down to the clipboard. In exaggerated movements, he motions down to it and shrugs, puffing air in his cheeks and just making a meal out of this fake performance.

“I can’t believe it either but there it is. ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’”

You tongue your cheek and smirk a bit. “No, J, I do not.”

J nods and scribbles down more than just a tick while looking at the heart monitor. “Interesting…”

He makes a few last notes before his eyes widen and he looks up at you, pointing his pen in your direction. “No girlfriend either, right?”

You roll your eyes, “No, no girlfriend either.”

Isn’t this an official evaluation? For a government official secret organization that grants people a license to kill?

He asked you if you were single immediately after asking if you’ve had thoughts of suicide. Is this guy for real?

You slow blink at him while he finishes up the form on his end.

“Well!” he exclaims happily, hitting the clipboard on the metal table. You don’t even flinch. “I believe we’re all finished here.”

Your heart squeezes with nerves.

J stands up from the table and rounds the table towards you.

So badly you want to ask for the results of your exam. Are you in? Did you pass? Are you an agent?

“B needs to sign off on all the paperwork,” J trails off, his hands reaching forward to unhook all the wires from the leads stuck to your skin. “But… I don’t think there’s any issue with me welcoming you to the agency. Officially.”

Since the heart monitor was still hooked up, you can hear the needle suddenly spike and scribble large peaks on the paper.

J turns his head to look at it. An amused smirk crosses his face and a chuckle huffs through his chest. “Funny,” he says to himself and then turns back to you.

Sheepishly, you look away from him.

“That’s what gets your heart rate to spike?” J sits on the corner of the table and folds his arms across his chest.

You bite your cheek and avoid his eyes. “Well, this has been my dream job since I was a young girl; so, yes, you alluding to me becoming an official agent would raise my heart rate.”

J scoffs. His warm fingers suddenly grab your face, thumb on one cheek and his middle and pointer finger on the other. He turns your head to face him.

When your gaze snaps to his face, you see that there’s a cocky smirk on his face but his eyes are focused down on the heart monitor. The needle stays steady much to his obvious distaste.

He sucks teeth in disbelief. “Really?”

“Is this another test?” your voice comes out muffled due to him holding your cheeks.

J rolls his eyes with a frown. “Yeah, let’s go with that.” He releases your face and slides the strap off your head.

The leads on your chest are soon to come off after that. J is careful not to rip the sticky pads off your skin too fast so that it doesn’t sting. He rubs the site with a bit of rubbing alcohol afterwards to get rid of the residue.

“How long have you been at the agency?” you ask. You’re curious about him.

He defeats all the ‘Secret Agent’ stereotypes. He’s personable and warm— and a bit flirtatious. He’s not at all the cold, all-business type you were used to. That’s how more than half the trainees were.

It’s not that you were cold, no. You just kept to yourself and worked hard.

And you made sure your personality didn’t fade during that time either.

J’s nose crinkles up while he thinks. His hands slow down in the process. “Hmm,” he hums. “Maybe four years now? Yeah, sounds about right.”

Your eyes widen. “Four years? How old are you?”

He smirks. “Don’t you know never to ask a young man his age.”

“I guess if you’re not going to tell me…” you trail off. “I’ll just say twenty eight then.”

“Twenty ei—!” he stammers and takes the last lead off your chest. “I’m twenty two!”

“Wasn’t so hard was it?”

J grumbles and turns around to finish putting the machine away. But there’s an amused tilt to the corner of his puffy lips and a playful glint in his eye.

“So you started when you were eighteen?”

“Yep.”

“Child prodigy?”

“Taken right from high school.”

“Impressive.”

J laughs under his breath. “Everyone seems to think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Eh.” He shrugs. “Everyone here is a prodigy of some sort. It’s easy to blend in and somehow appear mediocre when surrounded by Korea’s most elite minds and bodies.”

“I don’t think you’re mediocre.”

“You haven’t met everyone else yet.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer again. J grabs your clipboard and takes the papers off it, handing them to you.

“Bring these to B, he has to sign off on the final enlistment.” You take the stack from him. “The guard outside the door will bring you up to his office.”

You look down at the papers, your heart rate picking up faster and faster the more you think about it.

J puts his hand on your lower back and ushers you towards the door. It tingles at the base of your spine. He reaches in front of you and opens the door, motioning for you to exit first. The hand on your lower back twitches and it feels like he almost scratches it twice before urging you forward and dropping it.

It’s weirdly comforting.

It doesn’t feel weird at all.

You turn back to look at him, “Thank you, J.”

He smiles. Those round cheeks get even bigger when it happens.

“Welcome to KDOI, X .”

---------------------------------------

Two years goes by in the blink of an eye when working with a government agency. Especially when a majority of your assignments can take anywhere from a week to two months at a time.

The agents you work with are the only constant in your life. Other faces flitter in and out of your life like leaves falling off trees. You don’t grow attached to anyone outside of this organization, you can’t afford to.

You’re not complaining, not at all. You love the life you have now. It’s everything you ever wanted.

Everyone at KDOI is a family, you’re all each other has. It’s an unspoken, special bond.

When you first started, you were welcomed in with open arms. Obviously, some agents were warmer than others at first— or maybe it’s just that some were better at first impressions than others.

Maybe other people would have been upset with M’s standoffishness when you first introduced yourself. But, after a hot coffee appeared on your desk not even five minutes after complaining about being cold to him and only him, you knew he wasn’t detached and icy at all.

Other agents, like F, have been nothing but a ball of sunshine. He was the one you ate lunch with every single day while you were at the agency. Whilst sitting by yourself in the cafeteria on day one, he took it upon himself to plop himself in the seat right across from you.

H is your favorite agent to go on long assignments with. He never fails to be a constant source of entertainment and intelligent conversation— with the occasional stupid ass comment that makes you question where the man you were just talking to went.

Slowly but surely, you’ve also started learning their real names. Learning someone’s real name was apparently the equivalent of leaving you in their will around here.

There was a time and place to refer to them as their real name. It was a line you tiptoed constantly.

Surprisingly, it was M who told you his name first: Minho. It was completely unprompted too. It was in the jet returning from a three week mission where you had saved him from at least five different gunshot wounds by tackling him to the ground.

The others trickled in afterwards.

Y, or Jeongin, was shocked when you didn’t know his name. And immediately told you afterwards with a cute, wide smile on his face.

Even though every single agent has become a part of you, one particular agent seems to have captured a larger part of your soul than the others.

“J,” you say casually, slipping behind him to stand on the other side of his cluttered workbench.

Jisung. He had told you his name when you had lingered in his workshop late one night, not wanting to go back to your dorm quite yet.

“Hello, X,” he grins without looking up at you. The glasses on his nose have fallen forward.

His laptop is his primary focus, several wires are running from the computer to a tiny little gadget that looks no bigger than a cell phone. It has a small LED screen with different colored pixels bouncing around it.

Jisung’s workshop was one of your favorite places in the agency. There was always music playing, a computer always had some sort of TV on silent with the subtitles on, and there were always snacks everywhere.

You consider it a second dorm, really. As soon as you’re done training for the day, you usually find yourself here.

“When did you get back?” he asks, clicking a few keys and looking over at the gadget, then back to his computer.

“Maybe two hours ago?”

“And it took you this long to come say hi?”

“I had to shower.”

“ And you didn’t invite me?” his cheeky smile gets bigger.

You smack the back of his head, the glasses fall even more. You’re surprised they don’t tumble off his face.

If one thing has remained constant since your exam day, it’s the relentless flirting. The guy can’t go more than five minutes without saying some sort of teasing comment.

It should bother you.

But it doesn’t.

At this point, you’ve gotten quite used to it. If he ever stopped, then you might be a bit concerned. You might even miss it.

But you would never tell him that.

Jisung makes a tiny ‘gah’ noise and rubs the back of his head in fake pain. He pushes his glasses up his nose and looks over at you.

“I missed you so much and the first thing you do is hurt me,” he whines.

“I wasn’t gone that long.”

“Two long months without my girlfriend.”

“ Not your girlfriend.”

He clutched his chest through his baggy black hoodie. “Another wound.”

You cross your arms and giggle a bit. “Well get used to me not being here. B is sending me on another assignment tomorrow.”

Jisung frowns. “I know, he asked me to be at your debrief tomorrow morning.” He lets out a whine. “You just got back! Usually you’re around for at least two weeks in between missions.”

Shrugging, you look around the room. The digital clock on the wall read 10:29 PM. He’s usually the only one in here past 5:30, he tends to lose track of time easily when working on projects.

“It’s part of the job,” you say casually.

Jisung grumbles again, looking down at his laptop once more. “Yeah, well it sucks. Everyone’s always coming and going. Meanwhile I’m stuck here all day every day.”

“I thought you didn’t do field work.”

“I don’t . I just also hate that I’m trapped here while everyone gets to travel with one another.”

You narrow your eyes. “You do know we’re not sightseeing, right?”

Jisung balks. “Of course I know that.” He pauses. “But I did see that picture that you and Changbin took at Buckingham Palace.”

You bite your lip to stop the smile. “Not my fault it just so happened to be by our hotel.”

“Bang said if we had a Christmas card he would use that picture.”

The smile you’re fighting gets even bigger. You hesitate before speaking up again. “It’s a good picture.”

Jisung’s head drops and he places both of his hands on the table. “See what I mean?” he groans.

“Just tell Bang that you want field work.”

Jisung’s head shoots up and he stares at you with wide eyes. “I would die in the field!”

“You would not. One of us would be there to save your hide. You really think Minho would let you die?”

“I think he would load the gun himself.”

A laugh bubbles up in your chest. Uncrossing your arms, you turn around and lean against the table.

“Ji, we would make sure you were safe if you were to come out in the field with us. It’s our job.”

“Your job is to carry out the mission.”

“I wouldn’t give a damn about the mission if your life was on the line.”

Jisung’s mouth snaps shut. His eyebrows fly up his forehead.

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his knuckles turn white from gripping the counter so hard.

His Adam’s Apple bobs with a gulp.

You shouldn’t have said something like that, shouldn’t you? Your job is to carry out government missions. Personal feelings should never be put first, you know that.

So why did you say that?

Fuck, you shouldn’t have said that.

The shock on Jisung’s face quickly morphs into a cocky smirk. It’s a mask. You can see in his eyes he’s still a bit shocked.

“I knew you were in love with me.”

Groaning, you roll your eyes and push off the table. “I’m going back to my dorm to sleep. Goodnight, J.”

Your hand slides to his lower back and you scratch twice over his lab coat and hoodie.

Ever since your exam day, the two of you do this small gesture to each other all the time. It could be when he passes behind you in the cafe line or comes up behind you in the training room. It’s such a tiny, personal gesture.

Sometimes on the coldest nights in the field, you’ll find yourself aching for that small touch.

“You’re so head over heels in love with me, X!” he calls after you, again, clutching at his heart and overacting like he’s swooning.

“I’m leaving!”

“You just got here!” he whines.

“Bye.”

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away, X!”

“Night!” you repeat, letting the door shut after you.

You walk down the hallway of the agency with a goofy smile on your face.

“Idiot,” you mumble to yourself.

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B’s office was at the very top of the large building, the windows overlooked the entirety of Seoul. Everything inside the office exuded money and power. The wood of the bookshelves was black and sleek and always dust free.

Inside the office was so large there was an entire sitting area with two sofas and two loveseats around a coffee table.

There was always a bergamot candle burning on a side table there.

It was just about 10 AM when you stepped inside.

“Ah, X, thank you so much for coming in.” B stands up from his large desk chair to welcome you in.

Bang Chan, the leader of KDOI, and the most unassuming man you’ve ever met. When you brought him your final exam paperwork that fateful day you thought you were in the wrong office.

This whole time you were expecting a wrinkly old man, not a twenty-something with dimples.

But, at this point, you’ve learned to not be surprised by anything anymore.

Maybe you were surprised at the fact that the other man in the room made no move to even look at you.

Jisung sat in the other chair in front of the desk, his face sheet white. Both of his hands are gripped in tight fists on top of his pants.

Your warm smile fades from your face as you take in his ghastly expression.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

Chan’s lips form a tight line as he motions to the chair for you to sit in. “I was going over your next assignment with J before you got here.”

“Apologies, am I late?”

“No, not at all. I had J come in a little early to talk to him one on one.”

You glance over at Jisung who looks like he hasn’t even blinked. Alarm bells are going off inside your head. Not even a nod in your direction?

“What’s this assignment about, B?” You look back to your boss.

He slides a manilla envelope across the desk to you, you take it without a second thought. Chan picks up a tiny remote off his desk and presses a button. Shades slowly come down over the window, bathing the room in darkness. Another beep on the remote and a holographic screen projects from the floor next to the desk.

Both you and Chan turn your chairs to go over the debrief, Jisung stays still. Part of you wants to snap your fingers in front of his face to see if he’s still alive or not.

Instead, you focus on your job.

“I know you’re used to more recoup time, but I’m afraid this assignment is pretty urgent.” Chan clicks the remote. A grainy CCTV picture is displayed on the screen. “The international gang you’ve been dealing with lately, the Ice Crows, have shown their face again.”

Chan zooms in on the image. Several higher ups of the gang are getting out of a black SUV. They’re all dressed in fancy suits smoking cigars.

The last time you dealt with them was about five months ago when their trail had gone cold over in Canada.

“When and where was this taken?” you ask.

“Yesterday. Paris. Where you and J will be headed after this.”

Your head snaps over to look at Chan.

With Jisung? No wonder the guy looked like he was eight inches from death!

Your eyes slide to the engineer, he’s still staring forward. A cold sweat on his brow.

“J is coming with me?”

Chan points your attention back to the debrief. “Allow me to continue.”

You spare one last look Jisung. The poor guy is shaking in his boots. Your hands itch to reach out and comfort him, but you have to remain professional.

That’s for after the debrief.

“There’s an auction being held at the Palais des Congrès. Several large and important pieces are being shown there. Including…” Bang switches the slides and displays an expensive painting. “The Refuge, which was stolen no more than two months ago by the Ice Crows. They’re putting it up for auction when it belongs back in Korea.”

Your eyes narrow. “This seems like a pretty rookie cut and dry assignment, B. You need me to get the painting back. I don’t understand why J has to come with me, he doesn’t do field work.”

The conversation the two of you had the previous night echoes in your mind.

B nods. “I know. Let me get there, X.” He switches the slide to display the floor plan of the museum. “This convention center is rather high tech, as you can see. It’s equipped with blockers that don’t allow any outside waves to make it past their walls. Any and all technical communication has to come within the building.”

“So, you’re sending J with me because he’s the only one that can operate field equipment? S can operate simple transmitters and trackers.”

“It’s more than that, X. The painting will be behind several different firewalls and security systems that not even S can hack through. J needs to be with you and he needs to be in that building.”

You take a deep breath and look over at Jisung. His hundred yard stare has moved from the window and is now focused down on his lap.

“He’ll be in your hotel room the entire time. You’ll be doing the recon and walking through the convention center to get where you need to be.”

Jisung pulls his lips between his teeth. His body finally came back to life. “I won’t need to leave the room?” His voice is hoarse.

“No,” Chan answers quickly. “Not until you’re leaving to come back home.”

Jisung shifts on his chair, unfurling his fists and swallowing thickly.

“I understand your apprehension, J, I do. But I need you on this.”

Jisung watches him closely and then offers a weak nod. He glanced over at you.

“I wouldn’t put you with X unless I was sure that she would watch your six.”

You nod and steel your expression. “I won’t let anything happen to you, J.”

Color returns to J’s cheeks at your words. He gulps and takes a deep breath, his shoulders rolling back and remaining stiff.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Okay, I’ll do it.” He’s more confident the second time.

“Good.” Chan clasps his hands together. “Stay safe, agents. Amusez vouis bien!”

---------------------------------------

You and Jisung were the only ones inside the cabin of the agency’s private jet. It took off the runway only about four minutes ago.

The brunette sat across from you, his eyes focused out the window at the clouds below. His posture is anything but relaxed. He’s sitting ramrod straight in the large cushioned chair.

You don’t think his muscles have released since you both were in Chan’s office. Even through the thick layers of his comfortable traveling clothes you can clearly read his uneasy body language.

“You okay?” you ask gently.

“No,” he mutters back. Duh.

You bite the inside of your cheek, completely unsure of what to do or say. This was never a part of your training. Maybe you should’ve picked up a copy of ‘��Comforting Friends for Dummies ’ when you had the chance.

Killing targets? Easy!

Provide detailed surveillance on a suspicious person? Done!

Soothe an anxious friend? Not so simple.

Jisung’s cheeks seem even puffier than usual, lips pursed in a pout. There’s no sparkle to his eyes like you’re used to.

Taking a deep breath, you lean back in your seat and look around the plane. You crack your knuckles, displaying your own nerves.

“Do you know the best part of staying at hotels during missions?” you ask him to break the silence.

Jisung hums in acknowledgement, he continues to watch the clouds below.

“You get to order all the room service you want— it comes out of the agency’s card.” You smirk.

He shifts around in his seat. His hands that were tightly gripping the armrests relax a bit.

“Last assignment I was on with Hyunjin, we were in a seaport town, the hotel made these bacon wrapped scallops… man… I ate so many I thought I was going to explode.” You pat your stomach.

Jisung finally looks at you. “Bacon wrapped scallops?”

You nod and smile at him. “You’ll be in the room the entire time. Think of all the room service you’ll get to order.”

“I’ve never had bacon wrapped scallops.”

“It’s Paris, who knows what they’ll offer there. And it all goes on Bang’s card.”

Jisung finally smiles. It wavers for a second, like he’s sheepish to do it. It’s paired with a breathy chuckle. He looks down at his lap and lets his body fall forward a bit, elbows resting on his knees.

His knee bounces anxiously and the exhales he lets out are shaky.

“God, Y/N,” he sighs, rubbing his face. “I can’t help but freak out.”

“Understandable.”

“It’s my first time out in the field.”

“I know.”

“What if something happens?”

You roll your eyes. “I would be more surprised if something didn’t happen, Jisung.”

His head shoots up. The color drains from his face. His pouty lips part a few times like he’s trying to find the right words to say.

“But I’m prepared for it, Jisung.” You lean forward, mirroring his posture and take his hands between yours. “I’m prepared to take care of whatever pops up to keep you safe, okay?”

His jaw clenches and he stares deeply into his eyes. The hands in yours are so warm in stark contrast to your always-cold ones.

“And if anything terrible happens then I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out of it. Trust in me, okay? I have to take care of KDOI’s resident nerd, after all.”

“Resident nerd…” he scoffs.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Did I ever tell you what happened on my first mission with Minho?”

Jisung shakes his head.

“It was supposed to be easy! The intel that KDOI had gotten was that there was going to be a large drug exchange somewhere in the States, Minho was sent with me. And my lord, our intel was off.”

Thinking about the memory makes you giggle to this day.

“It was an international, high profile cartel that Bang has been trying to nail down for years. Well, during a small scout, I got my ass captured. I wasn’t watching my six like I should’ve.”

Jisung’s eyes widen. Obviously, he wasn’t told about this. It’s not like you enjoy flaunting the story around.

“I had a gun to the back of my head, the leader of the cartel was screaming for Minho to come out from where he was hiding or he’d kill me. God, I’ve never been so afraid in my life. My first assignment and I already had a gun to my skull.

“Minho, being the amazing agent he is, found the right vantage point and took the guy out. I was able to evade the crossfire after that, but honestly those bullets weren’t what scared me, it was the idea that Minho was disappointed in me.”

He was the agent you looked up to the most after all. He was the one that all these great stories and tales were all about. Minho was the harrowing hero of KDOI who was able to ace every mission handed to him.

“But he didn’t even say anything about it. Even when I apologized over and over again, he just shrugged and said it was part of the job. And I get it now. It is just part of the job. So don’t worry, okay?”

Jisung swallows once, chin dipping down with a stiff nod. He turns his hands around in yours to grasp your fingers.

A playful smirk creeps up on his face. “I can’t believe it…”

Your head cocks to the side and you watch him closely. He’s studying your manicured nails, his thumbs swipe over the digits softly. It’s a tender movement.

“What?” you ask.

“I can’t believe how in love with me you are.”

You rip your hands out of his and swat forward just as fast.

With a barking laugh, he moves out of the way of your slap. You swing again and again, each time his laughter gets louder and louder.

“First last night, now this? Are you going to propose to me next?”

You know this is just his way of evading thinking about how scared he is, but if that’s what it takes to make him feel better, you’ll allow it. If a distraction is what he needs, then you’ll give it to him.

“Love hurts!” he cries out when you land a solid smack on his arm. “They were right!”

“It’s going to kill you, that’s what it’s going to do.”

---------------------------------------

By the time you and Jisung get to the convention center and check into the hotel it’s nearing seven at night. The gala isn’t being held until tomorrow, so you both have some time to relax and settle in.

It leaves Jisung plenty of time to set up everything he needs inside your hotel room.

You both checked in without a hitch, getting your keys and practically falling into the room. Jet Lag is pulling your eyelids shut and weighing down on your chest like an elephant.

Flicking the lights on, you blink your bleary eyes a few times, staring down at the large bed sitting in the middle of your hotel room.

One king sized bed.

You’d love to say this hasn’t happened before but you never know what to expect on missions. There have been places where there’s been one bed, two beds, bunk beds , and even separate bedrooms once or twice.

On one occasion Hyunjin slept on the floor since you were only given one twin sized bed and you were not about to share that tiny space with the man who likes to spread out all of his limbs and hog the blanket at the same time.

So, at this point, you don’t even care if there’s only one bed.

You shrug it off and plop your bag next to the dresser and let your body fall back onto the plush mattress with an ‘oof!’

Jisung, on the other hand, hovers around the doorway, both hands still gripping the two rolling suitcases full of his equipment. “I can sleep on the pull out couch,” he says thickly.

“Ji, it’s fine, we can share a bed, we’re both adults here,” you tease him. “As long as you don’t put your cold feet on me, I don’t care.”

“I don’t have cold feet,” he grumbles and wheels his suitcases towards the small table on the other side of the room.

You let your eyes slide shut on the bed. The gentle hum of the air conditioner already lulling your brain to sleep. With how exhausted you are, it wouldn’t take much for you to give into the pull anyway.

Jisung opens up the suitcases and starts unloading every piece of technology that he has brought with him. Various wires and computer parts thud against the wood of the table.

He stops for a second.

“And how would you know if I did have cold feet?”

A laugh is punched from your chest at the abrupt question. It’s a deep belly laugh. “Let’s just say there is a loose lipped agent among us.”

Jisung pauses. “Minho said he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“He wasn’t going to until I started teasing him about his purchase of fuzzy socks.”

“You were with him when he bought those?”

“I helped him choose between two different pairs.” You crack one eye open to look at him. “The purple pair was my idea.”

Jisung groans and slides his laptop open, the typing on his keys is a lot more aggressive. You giggle again at his outward display of frustration.

You let your eyes close again, listening to him shuffle his things around the wooden table muttering in between movements about how his feet aren’t that cold, they’re just colder than the rest of his body.

An easy smile finds its way on your face and you listen to his quiet ramblings until sleep finally washes over your tired mind.

---------------------------------------

“You were right,” Jisungs voice says in your earpiece. “Room service is fucking awesome.”

A waiter with a tray full of champagne flutes passes by, you grab one as he strides by your side.

“I told you,” you say quietly while bringing the glass up to your lips to take a sip. “What did you order?”

“I think the better question is what didn’t I order.” His mouth sounds full when he answers you.

He’s up on the 14th floor of the convention hall while you’re downstairs at the gala in a sleek, red silk dress. Your hair and makeup done exquisitely well, beautiful silver heels match the diamond jewelry adorning your skin.

You blend right in to everyone around you.

“I heard that their oysters are fantastic.”

“I think that’s part of what I ordered.” You can hear several dishes being pushed around. “Yep, right here. Although, they don’t look as appetizing as I thought.”

“They’re not really a lounge snack.”

“For rich people they are.”

The mission started about an hour ago when you made your way into the main event hall. The auction for the painting is going to begin in about another hour.

Your first task of the night is to locate the painting before the auction and place a minuscule tracking device on it to locate later once it’s sold.

There was only one way you knew to get close enough to The Refuge.

“Oh. Three tables back to your 8 is your first target of the night, X.”

Paternino ‘Pink Panther’ Cardi. One of the Ice Crows inner circle members. He can’t resist swiping whatever paintings he can get his grimy fingers on; but, he also can’t resist bragging to an attractive woman.

You turn nonchalantly to find him already eyeing you up with dark eyes.

He’s your typical mafia member. In fact, if you had to draw a cartoon of a mobster, it would look like Paternino.

You hold his searing eye contact while taking another sip from your champagne. The mobster lowers his chin and lets his tongue dart out to lick his lips.

At first, seduction wasn’t a part of the job you particularly excelled at. But after doing it for so long, it comes naturally.

Batting your lashes, you smirk at him and then turn to walk towards his table, your hips swaying in the process. Maybe you exaggerate your movements a bit, but it has the exact effect you need on Paternino.

He’s sitting at a large round booth all by himself, legs spread wide in a show-of-power manner. A large swig of whiskey is taken out of his glass before you get to him.

“Don’t you know that a beautiful woman such as yourself deserves a better drink than the venue provided champagne?” He motions to the booth seat next to him.

You place your glass on the table and slide gracefully next to him. The effort you put into this is going to need to be quick, you don’t have long to locate the painting.

“And I suppose a handsome man like yourself knows just what to order a woman like me?” Your voice is coy and seductively low.

In your ear, you hear Jisung take a tiny, shaky breath. Does he know the intercom is still activated on his end?

Paternino slides towards you a bit more so now you can smell the expensive cologne wafting off him. It’s almost too overpowering.

“A woman like you, hm?” He rests his arm on the booth behind your shoulders, lifting one hand to signal a waiter to come by. “Look into my eyes, let me see if I can guess your drink of choice.”

You rest your chin on top of your folded hands, your elbows resting on the table. His eye contact is intense and vivid, it makes your skin crawl.

Paternino hums again. “A sapphire martini.”

“Nope,” Jisung says with a chuckle.

You give a tiny, fake gasp. “How did you know?”

“I know a woman with taste when I see her.” He takes another swig of his whiskey while staring at you. “A sapphire martini for the lady.”

There must have been a waiter next to the table. You fight the urge to turn and look, instead opting to look at Paternino through your lashes.

“Your turn, Beautiful. Why don’t you make an assumption about me?”

“I assume you’re an asshole with a tiny dick.”

Humming, you scoot even closer to Paternino, your fingers come up and walk up his chest to come around his tie.

“I think,” you whisper lowly, coming closer to his own face, forcing your eyes to look down at his lips for a split second then back up at his eyes. “That you’re a powerful man around here, and that you don’t take no for an answer.”

His lips curl up in a cocky smirk. The arm that was previously on the booth, comes around your shoulders. His fingers feel clammy on your exposed skin.

“Very observant, my lady. Anything else?”

The sound of a glass being delicately placed reaches your ears. You reach out and grab the martini glass without looking, bringing it closer to you.

“No, no, it’s your turn.”

He smiles. You’re so close to his face you can hear his exhales, smell the whiskey on his breath.

You sip your own martini. God, it’s awful. You hate martinis.

Paternino slides a finger underneath the spaghetti strap of your dress. “I think you would look gorgeous without this in the way.” He tugs on the strap.

“Zero out of ten. Horrible pick up line. Try again.”

Jisung’s snarky words in your ear are oddly calming to your racing heart. He keeps bringing you down to Earth.

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about your clothes.” You tug his tie. “The auction doesn’t start for some time. How about you show me somewhere private we can go and we can see if both of us are right.”

“Uuuuggghhhhhhh…”

“I like that idea, I know just the place, Beautiful.” Paternino slides out of the booth and holds out his hand, which you grab a hold of gingerly to stand up and be led away from the main gala floor.

---------------------------------------

It takes five minutes for Paternino to lead you to the room where The Refuge is being stored. It only takes you ten seconds to knock him out cold with one solid hit to the back of the head.

His body hits the ground like a sack of potatoes in the dark storage room.

“Fucking finally,” Jisung groans in your ear.

“Sorry, it was the only way I knew to get back here.”

“That was torture, X. I’m never doing this again.”

You roll your eyes and pick up Paternino’s ragdolling body under the arms, dragging him across the room and stuffing him inside a storage closet with his arms and legs tied together and duct tape over his mouth.

“Now, which one is The Refuge?” you mutter looking around at all the art around the room. There’s sculptures, painting, glass blown pieces, everything you would see in a museum.

“I wonder if The Refuge is the only stolen thing in here?”

Sighing, you walk around the room, trying to recognize anything. “Probably not. But it’s the only one we know about.”

You find the painting eventually sitting at the very back of the room covered by a large sheet. When you walk up to it, you take your earring out of your ear and slide the back off— which is where you were keeping the tracker.

You tuck the tracker in the back of the painting between the canvas in the wood. It wouldn’t slip out nor would anyone notice.

“Perfect.”

“I can see it on the map still, you’re all good. Now get out of there.”

“Anyone coming on the cams?”

“No, you’re clear.”

You take your other earring out and throw it in the garbage can by the door. They were fake anyway and you don’t feel like looking like a freak with one in.

---------------------------------------

When you returned to the event hall, people were taking their seats for the auction, so you followed suit. Grabbing another drink from the bar before you sat down.

“Vodka tonic?”

“Always,” you say under your breath.

You watch the bartender make your drink with close eyes.

Now you just needed to wait until the auction was over to get the painting back. Your job was half over.

Through the earpiece, you can hear knocks on Jisung’s hotel room door.

“More room service?”

“I… I didn’t order anything.”

Alarm bells go off in your mind. “Don’t answer it.”

Jisung stays silent for a few moments. You’re no longer watching the bartender, you’re focusing intently on what you can hear in your ear.

“J.” You state, trying to get an update from him.

“I think they’re gone.”

Before you can even think about being relaxed there’s a loud bang on the other side of the intercom and Jisung shrieks from surprise.

“X! X, they’re in the room! X!” His voice shouts into your ear.

You’re already running out of the event hall, your dress hiked up in your hands.

“J, there’s a gun strapped to the bottom of the table, use it!”

You can hear gruff voices screaming at Jisung not to move, that they’d kill him if he even twitched a muscle.

“X, there’s five of them.” He whispers quietly.

“J, listen to me, stay calm, I’ll be there in five minutes.” You burst through the stairwell and start climbing two at a time, even in your heels. The elevator would’ve taken too long. “Do what you need to stay alive, fuck the assignment. Stay alive.”

“X.” It’s a whimper and it stabs you through the heart. The yelling gets louder and louder.

Jisung begs for mercy. You can hear the desperation in his voice, it pushes your legs to move faster and faster up the stairs.

“Si—“

The earpiece goes dead after a gunshot.

Your knees wobble and you lose your momentum.

Oh my god, no, fuck, please.

Reaching out, you grab the railing to keep your balance on one of the landings.

“J?” you scream. “J, can you hear me?”

Nothing. Not a single voice comes through. Not even static.

Maybe they just shot the equipment. That has to be it. They didn’t shoot him. They wouldn’t. Right?

You steel your nerves and launch yourself up the remaining steps. By the time you reach the 14th floor, you’re not even winded.

The long hallway is colder than the stairwell. You take off sprinting towards your room, sharply rounding the few corners that you come across. Right before your own stretch of hallway, you slow down to a walk. It kills you but you have to do it.

In the distance, right in front of your room, you see two large men in black suits standing guard. They take notice of you immediately.

“What are you doing up here, ma’am?” One asks as you walk closer.

“My room is up here, honey.”

He looks to his partner and then back at you. “Turn around and walk the other way.”

“Why?” you ask, only about ten feet away.

“Just do it, sweet cheeks.”

Your eyebrow cocks and before he can react, you walk up and throw a sharp right hook into his jaw. The bone in his face cracks and he stumbles down onto the ground.

His partner yells in surprise and starts fumbling for his gun. When his hand raises to shoot you, you grab his arm and aim his weapon down so when he discharges it, it shoots right into his partner.

Then, you pull his arm so he falls forward into you. You swing the heel of your palm upwards right into his nose. With your free hand, you reach down and grab the tiny pistol that was strapped to your thigh.

Before the second goon could recover, you shoot him right in the head.

The sound of gunshots obviously alerted the remaining three gang members in the room. Two of them come barreling out into the hallway with their weapons drawn.

Immediately, you shoot the first one in the head, he hits the ground before he even knows what hit him. The other gang member yelps in shock before you shoot him too.

Within two minutes there are four bodies in the hallway.

Carefully, you walk into your hotel room, keeping your back against the wall and your gun cocked.

“Shut the fuck up,” a gruff voice says roughly.

Jisung said there were five of them. The fifth must be the one holding him hostage.

Quietly, you inch closer and closer to the corner of the wall. Once you turn around, he’ll be right in front of you.

You gulp and take one deep breath before coming around the corner, gun pointed forward.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” That same deep voice calls out.

Your heart drops.

Another typical looking crook is pointing his gun at the closed wardrobe doors in the corner of the room.

Where is Jisung? Where is he? Is he in the wardrobe? He has to be inside the wardrobe.

“Why don’t you drop the gun, sweetie.” The mobster says darkly.

You stay still with the gun pointed at him despite his words. The trigger seems to burn your finger. It's aching to be pulled.

Is Jisung in the wardrobe? Is he in there and you can’t see him?

Or is this guy trying to pull a fast one on you to get you to drop your weapon?

Fuck, is Jisung in the wardrobe?

“I said drop the fucking gun.” He moves to pull the hammer back of his own pistol and you don’t hesitate even for a second.

You pull your own trigger.

He drops to the ground with a bullet wound directly in his head.

You sprint across the room and rip open the wardrobe doors.

Empty.

It’s empty.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeat under your breath frantically. You blink your eyes over and over again hoping that he would suddenly appear.

You even go so far as to open and close the wardrobe door three more times, each time more frantic.

“Fuck!”

Where the fuck is he if he’s not inside this room?

The equipment on the table has a bullet hole through Jisung’s main laptop but no blood anywhere near it. But his glasses are. They’re lying on the floor with a crack through one of the lenses.

Did they move him to another location? He doesn’t have a tracker on him like you do.

With a yell of anguish, you turn and kick the dead mobster at your feet. His limp body rolls over and his jacket pocket falls open.

A hotel room key tucked inside the pocket catches your attention. You crouch down and pick it up.

‘1833’ is written on the back of the key.

It’s not a great lead, but your legs are running out of your hotel room before you even think twice. Obviously they moved him somewhere else to lead you into their trap and it didn’t work. Not with how well you were trained.

You burst through the door leading to the 18th floor, heeled shoes sprinting down the hallway towards where room 1833 would be.

As soon as you’re in front of the door, you click the hammer back of your gun and hold it out in front of you, swiping the key in the handle with your free hand.

The lock clicks open and you push the handle down slowly, trying to cause the least amount of noise as possible. All of the lights are off inside of the hotel room, save for one lamp. The yellow glow radiates on the wall.

There’s no noise.

Everything is completely silent save for the quiet hum of the air conditioning pumping through the room.

Until you hear a sniffle, a huff, and then another sniffle.

Inching across the floor, you slide your back against the wall like you did previously, listening for any more key sounds that would alert you that there are more people inside the room.

Taking one last deep breath, you round the corner and point your gun forward.

Even in the dark you know exactly what you’re seeing.

In the middle of the room stood Han Jisung; his hands tied together with a rope coming from the ceiling, a blindfold around his eyes and earplugs shoved into his ears. From here you can see the wetness from his tears being absorbed by the blindfold. There’s a gag tied around his mouth muffling tiny sobs.

You don’t allow yourself to fall victim to false security, you look around the room closely, making sure no one else is lying in wait for you to fall into yet another trap.

No other soul is inside this hotel room with you.

Dropping the gun onto the bed, you cross the room towards Jisung as quickly as possible.

He must sense another presence in front of him, his entire body stiffens and another louder sob is swallowed by the gag. He backs up away from you as much as his restraints allowed– which was next to nothing.

“Jisung,” you say in relief. “Oh god.”

Without thinking twice about it, you reach around and brush your hand on his lower back, scratching twice.

Jisung’s chest heaves with another sob, even through the gag in his mouth, you can hear him whimper your name. His entire body relaxes and he falls towards you, the ties on his hands tugging even more.

You reach up and yank the gag out of his mouth.

“X,” he rasps with a dry tongue. “Oh my god please say it’s you. I-I can’t hear anything— fuck, Jesus. Thank god you’re alive, oh god.”

You scratch his lower back again, looking at the restraints. How the fuck were you going to untie that knot?

Jisung’s tongue darts out to lick at his dry lips. His weight leans into you as much as he can. It must’ve been horrifying to be tied up like this, he couldn't hear or see or scream for help.

Gingerly, you reach up and cup both of his cheeks so as not to startle him. Even with how gentle you were, he still jumps in shock.

“Everything happened so fast,” he rambled. “They shot out the laptop so the communicator was fried. Next thing I knew I had a bag over my head and I was being tied up.”

Using your fingers, you push the blindfold up his face to rest around his forehead.

Jisung’s big, brown eyes blink and squint a bit before focusing on you. He searches all over your face, taking in every detail as if you’re a glass of water and he’s been crawling through the desert.

His eyebrows pinch together and he gulps.

“God, I’m always glad to see you, but now I’m really glad.”

You laugh under your breath, the stress from just the last thirty minutes alone lifting off your shoulders.

He’s okay.

Jisung is okay.

Using your hands, you wipe the tear tracks off his puffy cheeks. God, he must’ve been horrified.

He’s probably never going to go out into the field again. You look up at the restraints, analyzing the knot closely. You’re going to have to cut him down, there’s no way you’re untying that. He’s secured to a pipe that runs across the entirety of the ceiling.

“You know,” Jisung starts. His voice already has that teasing tilt to it. “If you wanted me tied up this badly, all you had to do was ask, baby.”

Your eyebrows twitches. Mr. Humor-Is-My-Coping-Mechanism decides to show his face now of all times, huh?

Slowly, you look down from his restrained wrists to his dark eyes. A smirk is already plastered on his face, his lips still wet from licking them.

“You must want me so bad, hm?”

With your own crooked smile, you tongue your cheek and make a ‘huh’ noise, it puffs through your chest. That’s how he wants to be, huh?

He can stay tied up for a little longer then. It’s not like anyone’s coming into this room nor do you have anything to do until after the auction.

Really, you have nothing but time to kill!

You take a step backwards away from him and cross your arms over your chest.

His eyes widen when you distance yourself from him. “Wh…” His cheeks puff a bit as his lips purse in confusion. Jisung tugs on the rope still around his wrists.

You cock your head to the side and stare at him with one lifted brow.

The bed behind you dips down under your weight as you sit down on the edge. It gives you a perfect vantage point to watch Jisung grow more and more confused as to why you’re not cutting him down yet.

Slowly, his ears start turning red, the flush crawls across his face and down his neck, disappearing into his black hoodie.

“X,” he says hoarsely. “Aren’t you going to cut me down?”

You shrug, knowing no matter what you say, he’s not going to hear you. If he wants to tease you, you can tease right back.

The gun on the bed beside you is picked up in your hand. You nonchalantly click the safety on and toss it to the side again.

He tugs even harder, the ropes chafing his wrists a bit. You watch as JIsung’s Adam’s Apple bobs with a gulp. The blindfold is pushing his bangs up in wild directions.

The helpless look on his face shouldn’t be making your blood pump this way. Excitement shouldn’t be tingling at the base of your spine from the power trip you’re getting from this. This is only teasing between two best friends, nothing more.

It’s just teasing, right?

Right?

You cross one leg over the other, leaning back on your hands. The plush blanket underneath your fingertips feels cool and soft. It’s a complete contrast to the way your skin is heating up under Jisung’s desperate gaze.

“Aren’t you going to…” he trails off. Several times his eyes flick from yours down to your exposed leg. When you had crossed them, due to the slit up your dress, the entirety of your leg was exposed to the cool hotel room air.

“Going to what?” you ask him, exaggerating the movements of your mouth for him to understand.

Jisung gulps again while watching your lips. He squints his eyes closed and tries to take a steadying breath in through his nose, his chin tilts back a bit.

You allow your gaze to wander down his body a bit. He’s always in relaxed clothing, including now. An oversized black hoodie draped over his shoulders with gray sweatpants on his bottom half.

Gray sweatpants that you now notice seem a little… tight .

Oh.

It seems as though you’re not the only one whose thoughts seem to be a bit… derailed.

When you look back up at Jisung, he’s staring at you with slightly glassy eyes and a heaving chest. Nervously, his tongue comes out to lick his drying lips again.

A tight band of tension stretches between the two of you; you can practically feel it connecting your bodies together. The hair on the back of your neck stands up.

Is he thinking the same thing you are? Is he allowing his mind to wander the way that yours is?

Slowly, you uncross your legs and stand up from the edge of the bed.

Big brown eyes flick down to watch the movement absentmindedly, his lips part and a shaky exhale leaves them.

Your hips sway from side to side with each slow step you take towards Jisung.

The eye contact he makes with you is sharp; his thoughts being conveyed through them. He wants you, and he wants you bad. It’s like he’s practically begging for it with those brown puppy dog eyes.

And you’ll be damned because you want it just as bad.

There’s only so much of his teasing that you can take. Only so much desire the dam within your heart can take before it bursts. And right now, with how high your adrenaline has spiked, nothing is stopping you.

The last two years of nonstop flirting is taking its toll on your self control.

Licking your own lips, you look up at Jisung, a shaky breath coming out afterwards.

Your fingers come up and grab the blindfold that’s still around his forehead and tug it back down over his eyes.

“ Fuck, ” Jisung murmurs. Your face is so close to his you can physically feel the words splay out onto your own lips.

With the gentleness of a butterfly landing on a flower, you brush your lips against his. Jisung immediately brings his face closer to yours, smashing your mouths together even more.

A sensation you can’t quite describe washes over you. It has the same level of completeness that you had felt when you became a full-fledged agent; like you just did something that the universe has been waiting for you to do.

His pouty lips start moving against yours faster and faster with more urgency, like he can’t get enough of you, like he’s experiencing the same emotions that you are. Were you the piece he always needed too?

Both of your hands begin to explore. You cup his cheek with one while the other grabs at the front of his hoodie. He’s leaning into you so much that the ropes holding his wrists squeak as they tighten and rub.

With a teasing smirk against his mouth, you take a tiny step back. This way he wasn’t able to reach your lips but could still feel the heat from your body in front of him.

A tiny whine leaves his throat as soon as you pull away. You watch as his lips chase after you just to be stopped by the ropes.

“Y/N,” he whispers, pleading. You lightly tap his cheek twice.

Pulling the collar of his hoodie to the side, you let your mouth hover over his neck.

Since he doesn’t have sight or hearing, all of his other senses are on high alert. Jisung feels your warm exhales so close to his skin and squirms around, little noises leaving the back of his throat.

You tease him more and more by letting your deep breaths fan over his flushed skin but never actually letting your lips actually meet with his neck.

Jisung pulls and pulls on the restraints, each exhale driving him insane.

When your lips finally meet his neck, a long mewl exits his own wet mouth. His head tilts to the side to give you more access. Greedily, you let your mouth explore his soft skin.

His hips buck forward into yours, his hard length grinding into your hip to bring himself some relief. Jisung whines again at the sensation.

At the same time, you open your mouth and suck down where his shoulder meets his neck. His body tenses up and his head tilts back in pleasure.

“Jesus, fuck,” he curses, grinding into your hip once again. “Oh, god. Shit– please, fuck, Y/N.” His incoherent babbling only increases in pitch and frequency the more you run your tongue up and down his neck, never going lower than the collar of his hoodie would pull or higher than his jawline.

You let your free hand travel up to thread in his soft, chocolate brown locks of hair. You scratch at his scalp a few times, letting your nails drag along his head. A low moan emanates deep within Jisung’s chest, it almost sounds like a purr. His head leans back into your touch.

“Oh my god,” he murmurs. Every noise that comes out of his mouth is louder than you expect thanks to the earplugs. “Y/N, please– oh fuck , kiss me again, please, oh my god, please, Y/N.”

Pulling away from his neck, you capture his lips in the middle of his babbling. The rest of his words are swallowed by your own mouth. His tongue darts out from his mouth to lick at your lips and coax yours forward.

Your own moans slip between kisses, Jisung can feel the vibrations against his mouth and they drive him absolutely wild. His hands ball up into fists; he wants to touch you so bad.

“Y/N,” he says your name in between kisses. “Please, c-cut me down.” Your kisses travel down to his jawline. “I want to– Fu-huh-huck! ” You bite down on his neck harshly, sucking a bright purple hickey underneath it.

Jisung rolls his hips into yours. You can feel how absolutely rock hard his cock is through his sweats.

“N-Need to touch you. Hah! I’m going insane, Y/N.”

Begs sound so good coming from his lips.

You run your hands down his chest to tease at the hem of his hoodie before sliding them underneath the fabric and up his bare chest. The muscle that greets you underneath it is a pleasant surprise.

The hard lines of his abs and chest run along the pads of your fingertips. He flexes and tenses under your touch.

Jisung throws his head back with a groan, his weight shifts around on his feet. It feels so fucking good . Every single touch to his body is heaven sent.

At the top of his chest, you curl your fingers and rake your nails down his skin.

The wail that tears from his throat makes your heart rate pick up ten fold. It sends a lightning bolt of pleasure through your body.

“Oh my god, please do that again! ” Jisung begs, his mouth hanging open as he pants over and over again. It seems like he can’t catch his breath.

Who were you to deny him?

With a featherlight touch, you let your fingers trail up, up, up his body. The closer you got to the top, the faster Jisung’s breathing picks up.

Right before you curled your fingers again, you smash your lips together in another searing kiss. When you claw down his quickly reddening skin, his cry is swallowed up by your own mouth.

You don’t stop your fingers on their downward descent, you tease the waistband of his sweats, letting your fingers curl around the top of the band and touching the taut skin underneath.

“Ah, hah.” Jisung pants into your mouth. He leans forward and sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it back for it to snap against your teeth. “I want to touch you so bad, Y/N, please .”

“Be patient,” you say against his lips. He doesn’t hear it, but he feels it. A pathetic whine responds to your words.

You kiss his lips a few more times before dropping down to your knees in front of him.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out. “Oh god, oh my god.”

You grab his legs with both of your hands starting at the knees and run them up his thighs, taking your time on your ascent.

“Fuck, fuck , this is really happening.” Jisung gulps. He pulls harder and harder on the ropes.

When your hands reach the top of his thighs, you run one closer and palm his erection over the top of his sweats. A deep, guttural moan is Jisung’s only response. Even through his sweats you can feel how his cock twitches in your grasp.

His hips buck into your hand when you squeeze him. “F-Fuck, I– Oh god– This is really happening and I can’t even fucking see it .”

You smirk. Maybe you should show him a small bit of mercy. Just a small amount.

Leaning forward, you kiss his cock over his sweatpants. Jisung gasps and twitches again.

You stand up quickly, coming nose to nose with him. Your hands come up to cup his cheeks, they’re so warm from his flushed face.

“Y-Y/N,” he gasps. You peck his lips, letting them linger on his while your hands come up to his ears to take the plugs out. “Y/N,” he repeats on your lips.

“Hi, Jisung,” you breathe against his mouth before kissing him again, letting the earplugs drop to the ground.

You don’t linger for too long, you kiss down his face, down his neck, and then you fall to your knees once more.

“Jesus, Y/N.”

You don’t tease him too much this time, you grab the waistband of his pants and tug them down, his rock hard cock finally coming out. His tip is red and angry. God, how can a dick look so pretty?

Just as quickly as you got his cock out of his pants, you wrap your hand around him, pumping your hand up and down slowly.

“Ohhhh my goood,” Jisung mewls. His thighs tense up and flex each time you stroke up and down. “Fuck yeah, Y/N. God, your hands are so fucking soft.”

You tighten your grip and Jisung whines.

“Yeah? Does that feel good, baby?”

His cock twitches in your hand at the nickname at the same time a tiny whine escapes his throat.

“Does it?”

“Y-Yes,” he answers shyly.

“Louder, Jisung.”

“Yes, it feels good!”

“Good boy.” Without warning, you lean forward and take the entirety of him inside your mouth.

You can feel his knees buckle and if it wasn’t for the restraints keeping him suspended from the ceiling, he probably would’ve fallen to the ground.

“Oh, oh m-my, f-fuck, Y/N!”

You’re relentless. You bob your head back and forth on his dick, letting your tongue swirl around the tip when you come up just to go back down and swallow him completely. Jisung’s hands are balled into such tight fists that his knuckles are turning white.

So many different pitches of whines, moans, and groans fall so easily from his lips. Compliments come out in between each one.

“So good,” he cries. “I can’t fucking– holy shit.”

In some part of your mind, you always knew he would be vocal during sex– but never this vocal. He hasn’t shut up once. Not that you’re complaining, quite the opposite really. You fucking love every single noise that he makes. Each one sends a shock down between your legs.

Too often you’ve been with partners that conceal how you’re making them feel, but not anymore. Jisung is making sure you know exactly how well you’re doing.

“Such a perfect mouth, oh god. So fucking warm.”

You let your hand travel up his hoodie again, his abs are clenching and releasing over and over again with how hard he’s panting, you can feel each one under your hands.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he pants as your hand goes up. “Fucking hurt me, yeah, please, scratch me, Y/N.”

God, the way he’s talking to you is fucking sinful. It’s perfect .

You scratch down his chest just as harshly as you did twice previously.

Again, Jisung lets out a wail, his hips bucking and fucking his cock down your throat. You gag around him but keep him down your throat regardless.

“I-I-I’m gunna, holy shit, Y/N, I’m g’na– g’na—”

Now, you can’t have that yet, can you?

Quickly, you pull off his cock, letting yourself take a gulp of air.

Jisung cries out from his ruined orgasm. “No! Shit! Fuck! Why?”

You look around the room while he throws his mini temper tantrum. There’s a small kitchen off to the side of the suite.

As if you have nothing better to do, you meander over to it, looking around.

“Y/N?” Jisung asks, hearing you walk away.

“Hm?” you respond.

“W-Where did you go?”

“Still here, baby, why?”

He shifts around, pulling on the ropes. The red color on his ears is getting deeper and deeper. “Just um– Why did you leave?”

You giggle. “Looking for something.”

You open one of the drawers, close it, then open another until you find what you’re looking for. It glints and catches your eye in the third drawer you check. You pick up the knife that was inside the drawer.

You’re walking back in his direction with the knife in your hand.

“D-Did you find what you needed?”

“Yep.”

With frightening grace, you reach up and slice the ropes holding his wrists in the air.

He almost drops to the ground, but you grab a hold of him before he has a chance to fall into the carpet.

Jisung wastes no time, he grabs at your waist with both of his hands. Through the silk fabric of your dress, you feel the heat of his touch. It scorches into your skin and you wish he would brand his very handprints there.

His lips are already on yours again, feverishly kissing you as if you would disappear if he stopped even for a moment. He takes one second to rip the blindfold off his eyes and then he’s back on your mouth.

The hands on your waist don’t stay there long. They run all along your figure, up in your hair, over your neck, grabbing your ass, gripping your hips, he’s everywhere.

You back up a bit, pulling Jisung with you until the back of your legs are about to hit the bed. Quickly, you spin the two of you around, pushing his chest so that he falls back onto the bed.

When Jisung finally blinks the confusion from his eyes, his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you at the foot of the bed.

You’re looking at him like you’re about to devour his very soul. Your hair is frizzy and tousled, the straps of your dress falling off your shoulders, your lipstick smudged over your puffy, kiss swollen lips.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs. His fingers curl into the blanket.

You straddle his legs and crawl onto the bed, hiking the skirt of your dress up enough for Jisung to see the strong muscle of your thighs.

“There’s no way I’m awake right now,” he whispers, hands grabbing at your bare legs and running them up to push your dress further up your body. “I must have been shot. I’m in Heaven right now.”

With a sultry chuckle, you cup his cheek and let your thumb swipe over his lips. “I’m real, baby.”

“Oh my god.”

You reach down and take a hold of his cock, pumping him up and down a few more times. Jisung moans and fights for his eyes to stay open, he can’t get enough of the sight of your hand wrapped around him.

With your other hand, you reach down and pull your panties to the side, revealing your dripping cunt.

“Holy fuck, you’re so wet,” Jisung whines. His fingers run up your folds, collecting your wetness on his digits and bringing them up to his mouth. He moans around his own fingers at your taste, his eyes rolling back in his skull. “Please, I need to–”

You cut him off by squeezing his cock. “Next time. I need you now .”

“Yes, ma’am,” he squeaks out.

As if he would ever complain.

You line his cock up with your entrance, Jisung grabs your hips with both of his hands, his thumbs pressing against the bone so hard. His breathing is getting faster and faster with each passing second.

Slowly, you sink down on his cock.

Both of you moan out in unison. The stretch feels fucking marvelous inside of you. Jisung’s eyes roll back in his head once more.

His moans dissolve into silence as his mouth stretches open in an ‘O��. He throbs inside you right before you lift your hips just to drop them again.

“Oh god,” you moan. “Jisung, you feel so fucking good.”

“Move, please ,” he begs and you bounce up and down again and again. Each time you drop down, it shoots pleasure down through your thighs and into your toes.

You grab his face and smash his lips with yours once more. His tongue immediately finds yours.

Jisung’s hands wander from your hips all the way around your body to grip your ass while you ride him, his fingers dig into the flesh, kneading it with each bounce.

“Fuck, fuck,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Pussy so fucking tight.”

“Just for you.”

“O-Oh, fuck yeah . Just like that, baby.”

Jisung pulls away from your lips to kiss down your neck the way you did to him earlier. He takes his hands off your ass to pull the straps of your dress down your arms for your breasts to fall out of the top.

“Shit, baby,” he whines before taking a nipple in his mouth.

Moaning, you pull his hair tighter, keeping his face buried in your chest– not that he seems to mind. His eyebrows pinch together, moans vibrating against your chest as he licks and sucks at your nipple.

His other hand comes up to pinch and pull at the other. Each tweak and flick of his tongue makes your walls clamp down on his cock.

“Your cock feels so good, Jisung,” you moan, clenching on him again. “Stretching me so good, so fucking big.”

He moans, sucking a hickey on the underside of one of your tits.

The pitch of both of your moans begin to get higher and higher the closer you get to your peaks. Jisung’s heels dig into the carpet and he starts fucking up into you.

“Fuck!” you cry out, holding him tighter. His thrusts are so much wilder than your bounces were. Each one fucks right into your g-spot. “Ji– Jisung, oh god!”

“Yeah?” He pulls away from your chest and looks up at you with half lidded eyes. “Does that feel good? Am I making you feel good?”

“Yes, yes! Keep going, Ji!”

Every single thrust is driving you wild. Everything about him makes you feel crazy, everything down to the sweat beading on his forehead.

He reaches down and presses his thumb against your clit, making you cry out. He rubs circles in the same tempo as his thrusts.

Closer and closer you approach your own climax, his touch feels too good.

Jisung looks down, watching where his cock disappears inside you over and over again. The very sight of it makes his mouth go dry.

He groans and falls into your chest.

“Say it for me, Y/N, say it,” he pants into your neck. “Say you’re close. I-I’m going to fucking bust, say you’re close, I need you to cum on my cock. Need it s-so bad.”

“I am, I am,” you repeat like a mantra. Your own pleasure is making you feel inside, his cock is abusing your walls just right, his thumb on your clit adding an extra level of insanity.

You pull more at his hair.

Close, close, close. It’s all you can think of. Jisung is enveloping all of your senses. He’s everything in your mind and body and even your soul.

“Gunna cum!” you cry out. “Cumming, cu– cumming!”

With just three more thrusts, your walls clamp down on Jisung’s cock, triggering his own release.

“Jisung, fuck!”

He bites down on your neck, crying out and grabbing you tightly with his free hand. He clings onto you like he would die if he let go.

Hot, sticky cum drips over your walls, leaking out around his cock.

Both of you are panting heavily, unable to move and detangle yourselves from one another.

Slowly, you release your death grip on his hair, letting your nails drag along his scalp like you did earlier. He hums against your neck, his hands finding your hips again, thumbs massaging you over your dress.

The gentleness of his touch makes you clench around him, your cunt still going through the aftershock of your orgasm.

“Jeeesus…” Jisung moans out, a bit overstimulated. You giggle and pull back to look down at your best friend. He looks up at you with a delighted smile across his face.

You giggle and continue to comb through his hair.

His eyes fall closed happily and he leans into your touch.

This should feel awkward. You should be having some sort of ‘post-nut clarity’ where you freak out for sleeping with your best friend, but you’re not.

Right here, right now, you feel safe and content. And your relationship with Jisung feels the same– if not better.

“I knew it,” he hums.

You cock your head to the side. “Knew what?”

“You’re obsessed with me.”

Laughing, you lean forward and press a long kiss to his lips. “Yeah.” You kiss him again. “Maybe I am.”

---------------------------------------

“So J was captured and tied up in another room in the convention center?” Chan asks.

You and Jisung had safely returned to Korea with The Refuge about two hours ago. And, per protocol, you both immediately went to Chan’s office for a debrief.

“Affirmative,” you answer.

“And you got him back, obviously. No problems after that?”

“No, sir.”

Jisung shifts on his chair next to you.

“Uneventful beyond that one hiccup?”

You tongue your cheek. “Yes, sir.”

Chan eyes the two of you curiously from the other side of his desk. But, the mission was complete and everything was done. There was nothing he needed to be wary of. For now.

“Understood. I’ll read about the mission more in your reports. You’re both dismissed.”

The two of you are leaving Chan’s office with thinly veiled smirks on your faces. Just as you’re about to close the door behind you, he calls out.

“Might want to cover the hickeys next time!”

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #han jisung x reader #han x reader #jisung x reader #stray kids x y/n #skz x y/n #han jisung smut #jisung smut #han smut #han jisung x you #han x you #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids kinktober

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allgoodnamesrgoneee · 3 months ago

Note

Hi girlie! Can you write reader’s first time and VVD guiding her through it? (Can be smutty as well 🫢)

Love your work❤️

This one was hard, took me three days to write. It's a long one ya'll so buckle up.

First Love, Last Love

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — the one where he's your first and you're his last.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Virgil Van Dijk x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 8.7k

Warnings! FLUFF! Virgil is so soft with her, age gap (11 years) insecurities, first love, NSFW! SMUT (18+), corruption kink, virgin reader, first time, size kink, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f & m receiving), soft sex, multiple orgasms, dom!Virgil, sub!reader.

The soft smacking of lips together was the only noise in the room.

The dim light from the lamp casts a warm, golden glow over your entwined forms, highlighting the gentle curve of your neck and the strong line of his jaw.

You could feel his breath against your skin, warm and slightly ragged, as he pulls you closer, the fabric of your clothes creating a soft rustle in the otherwise silent room. Your eyes are closed as you lose yourself in the sensation, the taste of him lingering on your lips.

It should have brought you comfort, but it didn’t.

The kiss had been like any other, filled with all the things that made your heart skip a beat. It was sweet and soft and warm. It was also felt completely wrong. Because of what you were about to say. What you needed to say.

You never meant to keep it a secret.

Not intentionally anyway. Not at first. You just never found a good time to tell him. You were worried about how he would react. Worried about what he would think. Worried he would see you differently.

Each passing day, the words tangled more in your throat, and you found yourself more and more anxious to tell him.

It didn’t help that you were both so far apart. With you being 21 and him being 32, the eleven-year age gap was often suffocating.

That difference seemed so small when he kissed you when his hand slipped under your shirt and traced the curves of your body, but it felt so big now.

And that scared you more than anything.

Because he was your first love. The first person to make your heart race and your pulse flutter. The first person you had ever fallen for.

But it obviously wasn't the same case for him.

He'd been with many people before you. The thought had always made you feel a little jealous. A little insecure. Because he'd had so many people in his life. So many women who were beautiful and sexy and experienced, and you were none of those things. Not compared to them anyway.

He was your first everything, but you weren’t his.

And that terrified you.

It was almost midnight. The clock on the wall ticked with slow, deliberate precision, each second stretching out like a taut wire. The quiet hum of the city outside was a distant murmur, an indifferent spectator to the turmoil unfolding within you.

You shifted slightly, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the solidness of him. The couch creaked softly beneath you as you moved, his kisses growing more urgent, more demanding.

Your heart raced, not from the kiss, but from the anxiety gnawing at your insides, clawing to be set free. His hand rested on the small of your back, fingers gently stroking the skin there, sending shivers down your spine.

You were dressed in one of his old shirts, soft and loose around you. It smelled of him, the scent of his body wash and the fabric softener he used, and it was the most comforting thing you had ever felt.

His lips left yours, breath hot against the skin of your neck as he traced the curve of it with his mouth. Your eyes were still closed, and your breath was ragged and uneven. He kissed your neck lazily, his fingers stroking along your bare thigh. The sound of your panting was loud in the quiet living room.

“Virg?” you gasped out, voice barely audible.

His fingers grazed your hip, causing a soft gasp to escape your lips. He responded with a low, satisfied hum, as his lips brushed over your jawline, sending sparks of heat through your veins. His fingers curled into your hip, and you could feel the heat of his touch through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Virgil?” you repeated, louder this time, more insistent.

His lips stilled on the skin of your neck. He paused, pulling back slightly. His fingers stayed on your hip, his lips hovering over yours. His breath was warm against your face, and his eyes were dark in the dim light of the room.

"What is it, princess?” he murmured, his voice hoarse with need and arousal dropping his face back into the crook of your neck. He nuzzled at the area, his breath tickling your skin.

You opened your mouth, the words you’d rehearsed for so long caught in your throat, refusing to come out. The words were on the tip of your tongue, but they felt like shards of glass, cutting your throat as they tried to escape.

Your voice was barely audible when you finally spoke. "There's something I need to tell you," you manage to whisper, your voice trembling. The room feels smaller, the air thicker, as if the walls are closing in on you.

He doesn't say anything, just waits patiently, his thumb still moving in soothing circles on your skin. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. This was it. There was no turning back now. "It's... about sex."

His brow furrows, but he doesn't interrupt. His silence is both a comfort and a curse, giving you the space to speak but also the time to doubt every word. Everything you had practiced.

You felt like you were going to vomit, your heart hammering in your chest like a drum. It was almost deafening. You were sure he could hear it too.

His fingers tightened on your hip, his grip almost painful, grounding, as he pulled back further. His face was a mask of concern, his eyes searching yours, and his brows furrowed.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice low and gentle.

You felt like you were going to cry. You were so nervous. So scared. You were scared that he would be upset. That he would be angry. That he wouldn’t want you anymore.

“Yeah,” you whispered, voice trembling. “I just... I wanted to talk to you about something.”

His eyes softened, and he reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His touch was gentle and soft. “Okay,” he murmured.

He paused for a moment, looking at you expectantly. His eyes were patient, his mouth soft and inviting.

The words burst from your mouth like a dam breaking. “I’m a virgin.”

The silence that follows is deafening. The words hangs in the air between you, a heavy weight that you felt pressing down on you, crushing the breath from your lungs.

His hand still on your hip, the gentle patterns cease. He blinks slowly, his gaze unreadable. You feel a cold wave of fear wash over you. He was going to leave you. You felt it in the way he looked at you, in the way his hand fell from your hip.

“Virgil?” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “Virgil, I’m sorry.”

His face was blank, his eyes dark, and his mouth set in a firm line. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and your throat felt tight and constricted. You train your eyes down, unable to meet his, feeling a flush of shame and anxiety coloring your cheeks.

“Princess?” he murmured, his voice low and gentle. His gaze was soft and kind. He leaned forward, his forehead pressing against yours. The smell of his cologne enveloped you, making your stomach flip and your breath hitch. “Please look at me.” His voice was soft, coaxing.

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest, but finally, you looked up. His eyes met yours, and the intensity of his gaze made your heart clench.

His hand cupped your face, his touch both reassuring and gentle, as though he were afraid to break something fragile and precious. His words were soft, tender, as he spoke. “Why are you sorry, hmm?”

You felt tears slide down your cheeks, and you felt a lump form in your throat. “Because I lied,” you whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just didn’t know how.”

His eyes softened, his gaze filled with something like... pity? It made you feel like crying more. Made you feel so small. So pathetic.

“Baby,” he cooed, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek with a tenderness that seemed to pierce through the storm raging inside you. “I've known for a while now,” he whispered, voice soft.

You blinked, stunned. The room seemed to spin for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in.

“You knew?” You squeaked out, your voice trembling.

He hummed, his head nodding, his thumb still tracing circles on your cheek. His touch was so gentle it made you feel like crying again.

“How? Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked, your voice small, almost afraid to break the fragile peace that had settled between you.

He chuckled softly, a sound that vibrated through your entire being. “It's pretty obvious, baby. You’re just so fucking innocent and pure and good that it’s practically written all over your face.” His thumb brushed across your bottom lip, his smile deepening as he watched the way they parted slightly in response. You felt a warmth bloom across your face, and you couldn’t help but look down at your hands, your heart pounding.

His hand moved to cup your cheeks in both hands, keeping your eyes on his. "I wanted you to tell me when you were ready. I didn’t want to pressure you or make you feel uncomfortable.” His eyes were soft, filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

His words washed over you, their gentleness almost more than you could bear. It was as if a weight had been lifted from your chest, allowing you to breathe for the first time in what felt like forever. The tension in your muscles began to ease, replaced by a warm, tingling relief that spread through your entire body.

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the tears stream down your cheeks in earnest now. "I... I was scared," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I thought you wouldn't want me anymore."

Virgil's eyes softened even more, if that was possible, and he pulled you closer. He pressed his forehead to yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you. "You don’t ever have to be scared with me," he said softly, " Besides, everyone's experience is different. And there's no right or wrong way to love someone. What matters is how we feel about each other, and I've never felt this way about anyone before."

"Really?" you whispered, your voice trembling.

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his for any hint of insincerity, but all you found was a depth of emotion that took your breath away. His eyes searched yours, as if trying to convey everything he felt for you through that one look. "Yes, darling. I love you Y/N, and nothing will change that. Not this, not anything."

You felt the warmth of his breath against your mouth as he whispered the last words, and your entire world seemed to tilt on its axis. This was the first time he'd told you he loved you. You'd been waiting so long to hear those words. They filled you with such happiness and relief that you felt your heart might burst.

Virgil's mouth pressed gently against yours, a tender, comforting kiss that had your heart fluttering in your chest. His lips brushed against yours, soft and warm, his breath tasting of minty freshness. His fingers traced your jawline, his touch featherlight.

It was a kiss that stole the air from your lungs, a kiss that made your heart pound in your chest. The world seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you in existence. It was the sweetest kiss you'd ever experienced.

You leaned into it, your hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. His arms wrapped around you, his hands stroking your back in soothing circles.

When he broke the kiss, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath coming out in ragged pants. "I love you," he repeated, his voice hoarse.

"I love you too," you whispered back, your voice filled with emotion.

He leaned in again, his lips pressing against the shell of your ear. "You're everything I've ever wanted baby. I'm going to be so good to you, I promise." His breath was warm and ticklish, making goosebumps rise across your skin.

With those words you knew.

Knew that this was it.

That it was him. Him that you wanted to spend your days with, your nights with, your life with. That it was him who you wanted to give yourself to.

You pull back slightly, breath labored. You could feel him watching you, could feel his eyes tracing over every dip and curve of your face. It made you feel like squirming in his lap, but in a good way. You bite your lip, looking up at him from under your lashes. “I want it to be you Virgil.” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your pounding heartbeat.

That same confused look from earlier comes back, his brows furrowing. "Sweetheart what are you talking about?" His voice is soft and gentle, filled with concern.

You swallow hard, trying to gather your courage. You've always been shy about saying this kind of thing out loud. But looking into Virgil's eyes now, you felt none of that fear. You felt nothing but love and acceptance.

You take a deep breath, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I want you to take it.” you whisper, your fingers twisting in the fabric of your (his) shirt.

A flash of surprise crosses his face for a moment, and then it’s replaced with something you can’t quite name. It was something dark and intense, something that made your breath hitch in your throat. He looks at you for a long moment, as if he’s trying to memorize your face.

“Baby,” he whispers, his voice low and gravelly, “you want me to be your first?” He asks, trying to confirm what he thinks you're telling him.

You nod, burying yourself in the crook of his neck to hide from the implications of your own words.

He groans, the sound low and pained. “You’re going to kill me.” he whispers. “I want you so bad.” His fingers slide under your chin, pulling you back to look at him. “But you have to be sure, darling. There’s no going back once we do this.”

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. You were sure. More sure than you’d ever been about anything. You wanted him, all of him.

You wanted to belong to him.

He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. Virgil’s hand slid down to rest against the curve of your waist, his touch possessive yet tender. "We'll take it slow," he murmured, "Only what you’re comfortable with." His fingers trace over your collarbone, the pads of his fingers rough against your skin. You shivered, your toes curling in your socks.

He smiles softly, his lips curling upward at the corners. "If you're not comfortable with something, all you have to do is say stop." his voice is low, gentle. "You have all the control here, princess. Understand?"

His words made you feel a little better, a little more grounded. You nod, swallowing hard to try and work some moisture back into your mouth. His hands skim over your arms, pulling your hands to rest at his shoulders.

Virgil's hands slid down to rest at the hem of your (his) shirt, his fingers bunching up the material in his palms. His eyes were dark, hungry, drinking in every detail of your body. You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your chest, the tips of your nipples tightening under the thin fabric of your bra.

He leaned in closer, his nose skimming over the curve of your shoulder. "So sweet," he whispered, his lips skimming over your skin, "you smell so fucking good." You shiver at the feel of his mouth against your skin, goosebumps breaking out along your arms.

He hummed softly, his hands sliding down to cup your breasts. You gasp at the feel of his fingers, your head falling back on a moan. You guys had ever only gone as far as a little grinding so far. You couldn't believe how good it felt to have him touching you like this.

Virgil leaned forward, his mouth trailing over the curve of your shoulder, his teeth nipping gently at the skin. He pulled back after a moment, looking down at you with dark hungry eyes. "Can I see?" he asked softly, his voice like silk.

You swallowed hard, feeling a blush spread up over your cheeks. You nod, giving him the permission he seeks.

His smile is gentle, yet there's an unmistakable edge of desire in his eyes. He slowly lifts the hem of the shirt, revealing more of your skin inch by inch. You gasped as the cool air hit your skin, his eyes devouring every inch of you.

His eyes never leave yours as he slides the shirt over your head, tossing it aside. You stand before him in your bra and shorts, feeling both exposed and cherished under his intense gaze. Virgil's fingers trace the lines of your collarbone, moving down to the straps of your bra. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.

You can barely breathe, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. He unclasps your bra with practiced ease, sliding the straps down your arms. The garment joins your shirt on the floor, and you shiver under his appreciative gaze.

"Perfect," he breathes. His hands were hot as they skimmed over your body, cupping your breasts in his palms, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you gasp. "Fucking perfect."

He pulls you in closer, his hands sliding down over your hips, pulling you flush against him. You can feel his hardness pressing up against you through your shorts, your thighs trembling with desire.

His eyes lock on yours, dark with intensity. “Are you sure?” he asks again, his voice strained. You can tell he's using the last bit of control right now to give you a way out. To make sure this is what you really want.

It is.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest so hard you know he can feel it. “Yes,” you whimper.

At your confirmation Virgil leans in slowly, his mouth capturing one of your nipples, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak. You moan, your hands threading through his hair, holding him close. The heat of his mouth, the roughness of his tongue, it's all so overwhelming, so perfect.

He moves over to your other nipple, his mouth worshipping the sensitive peak with the same gentle intensity as before.

You're inconsolable above him, writhing in his arms. "Virgil," you gasp, "Please."

When he pulls back, your nipples are tender and swollen from his attention. He hums softly, his mouth moving to the side of your neck, nipping gently at the sensitive skin. "Tell me, darling," he murmurs against your skin. "What do you need from me? Tell me how to take care of you."

You feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you, followed by desire. You have nothing to lose now but your pleasure so you tell him. "You," you gasp, "I need you."

He pulls back, his eyes dark with hunger. "Yeah? You want me to make love to you?" his voice is low, husky, his hand dropping to palm his hardness. The way he says it makes you keen. You love him.

You nod, biting your lip. "Yes,"

Virgil groans, his mouth crashing down on yours. His lips were hot and hungry, demanding. You melted into his touch, your arms wrapping around his neck to hold him close. His hands slid down to cup your ass, lifting you up with ease.

You gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist to keep yourself from falling. His hardness pressed up against your core through your shorts, making you shiver with pleasure.

His smile is slow, almost predatory as he looks at you through hooded eyes. "As you wish," he murmurs.

He presses a kiss against your jaw, slowly walking you over to his bedroom. He sits down on the bed, letting you slowly slide off until you're standing in front of him, between his legs. Even sitting down he's almost reaching your neck. It makes your head spin.

Virgil looks you over, taking his time. You can see the hunger in his eyes and your breath catches. He sits back for a moment, just looking at you, as if committing every detail to memory. Then he reaches forward, his hands sliding over your hips, pulling you closer.

His hands slide down over your hips, gripping the waistband of your shorts. He looks up at you through his lashes asking for permission. At your nod he's sliding them down to pool at your ankles leaving you in your panties.

He scoots back, his eyes drinking you in, every inch of you, and you can feel your blush spread up over your face. “Fuck baby,” he whispers, biting his bottom lip so hard, he's surprise there's no blood.

You shiver under his intense gaze, your hands coming up to cover yourself. He shakes his head, his hands coming up to pull your arms down. “Don’t hide from me, my love,” he murmurs, his hand sliding over your hip. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

He leans forward, pressing a kiss on your tummy as his hands move up to grope your ass. He looks up at you again, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “You gonna be my good girl tonight?”

You nod eagerly, your pussy clenching at the promise in his voice. “Yes, Virg” He hums happily at your words, his fingers digging into your hips.

“Good, I’m going to take good care of you,” he purrs, pulling you into his lap. Your legs are on either side of him, his hard cock pressing up against you. You can feel his heat radiating from him and it feels like you’re melting.

His lips press against your neck, his hot breath washing over you, making you whimper. “Virgil,” you moan out, your hips rolling against him. “please.” You're not even sure what you're asking for at this point. But he does.

His laugh is low and husky, his hands moving up to cup your breasts. His fingers pinch your nipples, and you cry out, your eyes falling shut. “Fuck, you’re sensitive,” he purrs, doing it again.

You can feel your pussy growing wetter by the second, the wet spot on your panties growing bigger. You're so lost in the pleasure he's giving you, that you barely feel him move you both further into the bed.

His back is pressed against the headboard, his legs splayed open. You're still in his lap, your back pressed against his chest. His lips are pressed against your neck, his breath hot on your skin. “Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do this,” he murmurs, nipping at your skin. “You're all mine now.”

You nod eagerly, leaning into his touch. “I'm yours.” His arms wrap around you, holding you tight.

“Mine,” he repeats, as his hands move down between your legs. You feel his fingers slide under the edge of your panties and you can't help but arch into his touch. His hand is hot against your skin and you can't help the shiver that runs down your spine. “You're so warm,” he purrs, his fingers sliding through your folds, searching out your clit. “So fucking wet.” When he finds it he rubs it gently and you cry out, my head falling back.

The feeling is unlike anything you've ever felt before. Nothing like the nights you've spent desperately trying to tame this feeling that he's awaken within you since the day you met him.

It's like fireworks are going off inside of you and you can't help but moan, your legs falling open further. “Virg,” you whimper, your hips moving on their own. “more.”

"Shh, I've got you," he whispers, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. Your hips move of their own accord, seeking more of his touch, more of the pleasure he's giving you.

His mouth trails down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, his hot breath washing over your skin. His teeth nip at your ear and you can't help the cry that falls from your lips. “Good girl,” he purrs. “You're doing so well.”

His fingers move faster, rubbing at your clit in small circles. You can feel yourself growing higher and higher, your whimpers coming quicker. You feel it coming but you can't say anything. All you can is gasp, moan, cry out his name until your lungs give out.

“Come on, baby,” he murmurs. “That's it.” His words send you over the edge and you scream, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. Your head is pressed back against his shoulder, your eyes clenched shut as he holds you through it.

His fingers continue to rub at your clit, slowly drawing out your orgasm until you can't take it anymore. You're writhing in his arms, your breath coming out in ragged gasps. “Virgil,” you gasp. “Baby, stop, stop, I can't.”

He pulls his hand back, his arms coming up around you to hold you tight. He presses kisses along your jaw, murmuring praise in your ear. You're so spent, all you can do is lay there and let him hold you.

He holds you for a few minutes, slowly rubbing your stomach and hips. He's whispering things in your ear that you can't make out, but they feel nice. They make you feel loved. You're slowly coming back down from your high, your mind clearing. You realize that he's still rock hard behind you.

"Are you okay, love?" he asks softly, his voice full of tenderness.

You nod, unable to form words, your body aching for him. He gently rolls you onto your back, settling between your legs, supporting himself with arms. He kisses you softly, and you squirm beneath him. He's so big. His body pressed against yours, his heat surrounding you. His presence is suffocating, drowning you.

He trails kisses down your collar bone. His hands are roaming your body, massaging and groping you in places that make you moan loudly. He chuckles, nuzzling his face into your chest. "I love how much noise you make when I touch you." he breathes against your skin.

He presses his mouth against your breast, pulling your nipple into his mouth. He sucks gently, making you whimper at the sensitivity.

He lifts his head, grinning at you. "I'm not gonna tease us anymore. Been dying to have a taste."

You frown at his words, confused, but then he moves down your body. And your eyes widen. You immediately snap your thighs shut, stopping him. "Wha-what are you doing?" you ask, blushing. "I-I've never had... you can't..."

Virgil chuckles, running his hand up and down your thigh. "I promise it will feel good," he whispers. You shiver at the feeling of his breath ghosting over your skin. You want him to touch you, you really do. But it's embarrassing. You've never had someone do that before. The thought of him putting his mouth down there...

"I promise, baby," he whispers. "Let me show you."

You nod, relaxing, and slowly spreading your legs apart for him. You're nervous at the idea of him so close to your pussy. What if you stink or something. Or you look weird.

You start to feel really self-consious. You're about to close your legs when he presses a kiss to your thigh, looking up at you.

"Such a pretty pussy, princess," he whispers. "I can't wait to taste you."

He looks so serious and sincere. You feel yourself melting at the way he talks to you. The way he looks at you.

He presses another kiss to your thigh, trailing down towards your center. You moan loudly as he kisses your mound, right above where you want him the most. Your body tenses at the sensation.

"I'm gonna eat you until you're dripping all over my face," he whispers, looking up at you. You whimper loudly, blushing. His words are filthy, but they make your core throb. "And then I'm gonna take what's mine," he growls.

He presses the lightest kiss against your clit. You gasp, your head falling back against the pillow. "Oh my god..." you moan. "Virgil..."

His tongue darts out, licking your clit. He moans at the taste of you, looking up at you. "Fucking delicious," he groans, before diving in again. He laps at your clit, his tongue flicking back and forth. He's slow and gentle, but it doesn't matter.

"Virgil," you moan, grabbing at his hair. unable to believe what is happening. It feels incredible.

"Love hearing you moan my name," he rasps against your clit, sending shocks through your body. Your thighs tremble. Your eyes roll back in your head, your body arching. "you like that, baby," he demands, sucking on your clit. "You like me eating your pussy." he groans, his tongue darting out to lick your folds.

You cry out, your thighs squeezing around his head. Your nails dig into his pillows, and he moans, pushing deeper. You're so wet. You can feel your juices coating your inner thighs, and you know it's all over him. You can feel him grunting against your center.

He pulls back, looking at you with a grin. Your juices glisten on his lips and chin. His face is flushed, his eyes dark. His fingers replace his tongue on your clit. Your muscles twitch. You feel your orgasm building.

He doesn't break eye contact as he slowly slips a finger inside you, curling it upwards. Your eyes fly wide open at the sensation, a loud gasp. Your legs snap shut around his hand. "Fuck!" you cry out.

He pulls away, looking up at you with a grin. "I know. Feels good, doesn't it? Just wait till it's my cock." he promises. He slips another finger in, and you moan loudly. You're so wet he just slides right in. He groans at the sight of your tight hungry little hole swallowing his big fingers. Your body feels like it's going to explode.

You feel so full.

He crooks his fingers, hitting a spot inside of you. You cry out, your back arching. What the fuck! "Oh fuck! That feels so good," you moan. Your fingers curl into the sheets, and your legs wrap around him. He leans over you, his wrapping around your clit, sucking.

"Gonna make you cum for me," he whispers. Your thighs shake around him. You feel your orgasm build, your core tightening around his fingers. "That's it, baby. Cum on my fingers," he growls. You're so sensitive that you can feel every twitch of his fingers.

"Vi-Virgil, I'm...I'm gonna cum," you gasp out. Your words come out slurred. You're drunk on the pleasure. Your eyes are clenched shut, your body shivering. Shaking.

"That's my good girl," he croons. His voice sends waves through your body. "cum for me, darling," he demands, his fingers picking up speed.

You can't take it.

Your body shivers, and you cry out. Your thighs squeeze around him. Your toes curl. Your nails dig into his pillows. His fingers don't stop. You can't stop. It's too much.

Your orgasm hits you hard. It's so powerful that you're left gasping for air. Your body trembles. Your pussy clamps down on his fingers, milking them. Your orgasm continues on and on, his fingers keeping the pleasure going.

He slowly eases up, until you stop shacking. He pulls them out slowly, sucking them clean. You can't help but blush at his crude actions.

Virgil crawls over you, kissing you hungrily. Your juices are all over his mouth. You taste yourself on his tongue. You moan at the flavor. He was right. You do taste delicious. He breaks away, smiling.

"Taste good, right?" You nod, still dazed from the orgasm. "Hey, you still with me?" You nod again. "Words baby, I need words." You take a deep breath, trying to catch your breath.

"Y-yes. I'm okay." You smile at him. He thinks he falls in love with you again. You look beautiful, laying here under him. Hair messy, eyes glazed over. In his bed. You're his. All his.

"That's my girl." He smiles back at you, pulling you into another kiss.

This kiss is different. It's loving, passionate. His lips dance with yours. Your tongues meet. You feel your heart race as he kisses you. He pulls away, looking down at you. He strokes your hair, then moves to cup your cheek. He looks at you like you're the only girl in the world.

"Are you sure you want to keep going, sweetheart?" He looks at you, worried. He doesn't want you to regret anything. "If you want to stop. No rush, no pressure. Just us.” He looks at you, his eyes full of love for you.

You nod at him before you remember his words from earlier. "I'm sure." You look at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears. You can't believe you're about to do this. About to give yourself to the love of your life. You've never wanted anything more. So you tell him. "I want this, I want you."

His eyes are soft as he scans your face, looking for even the smallest inckling of doubt. When he finds none He kisses you again, then he sits up. You suddenly become very aware of everything.

He's still dressed. You're laying here, completely naked. You feel yourself become self conscious again at the sight of him in his clothes. You're so exposed. So vulnerable.

You move to cover yourself, but he stops you, gently yanking the sheets from your hands. "No. I love looking at you." His cock is so hard at this point, it's painful. He wants you so bad. Wants to bury his cock in you and make you his forever.

He lays you down gently, his hands tracing over your skin as he stands up off the bed. You look up at him through your lashes, your mouth dry.

Virgil's fingers slowly undo the drawstrings of his grey sweats, the sound of fabric rustling echoing through the now quiet room. You watch, transfixed as he slowly pulls them off along with his boxers and socks.

The sight of his cock takes your breath away. It's huge and heavy, long and thick. You can see how much it aches. The tip is red and angry, precum dripping from it. You swallow, a little scared. How is he supposed to fit? There's no way.

He sees the look of fear on your face. He can guess what you're thinking. "We'll go slow." He says, crawling back into the bed next to you. You look at his cock again. "It'll fit, I promise." He reassures you, stroking your cheek. "Just relax, let me take care of you. Trust me?" He looks at you, his eyes full of love and lust.

You nod without hesitation. You trust him with your entire life.

You watch in wonder as he grabs a condom from his nightstand. You don't have time to question it, too eager to have him on you.

He gives himself a couple strokes, groaning loudly at the feeling of finally having some kind of stimulation, before he rolls it onto his cock. The way it stretches to fit his girth is almost comical. It looks almost too small for him.

You look back up at him, your eyes wide, wet. He leans over you, bracing his weight on his forearms. He looks down at you, smiling softly.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" He looks at you, voice husky and low, filled with the promise of sex, of pleasure, of release. You falter as your gaze catches his cock once again. "Hey, look at me." He cups your cheek, bringing your attention back up. You look up at him, your eyes wide. "Do you want to stop?"

"No." You shake your head. You can do this. For you. For him.

"Then relax." You take a deep breath and nod. He leans in to press his forehead to yours. "Breathe with me." You do as he says, breathing in sync with him. His cock is hot against your thigh. He reaches down to grip it, slowly moving it to your slit. His cockhead nudges at your entrance. You gasp at the feel of it, it's so big.

"Hey. It's okay." He looks down at you, concerned. "Don't look. Just keep your eyes on me. Yeah?" He looks at you, waiting for you to nod. You do.

You watch as his eyes look down at where he's poised at your entrance. He's beautiful above you. Brows furrowed in concentration. Lips parted as he pants. Sweat glistens on his skin, muscles straining as he holds himself up. You feel your pussy grow wetter at the sight.

Your juices are all over him. He moves down slightly, to where his cockhead is notched just inside you. Your muscles clench around him, trying to push him out. He lets out a guttural groan.

"Fuck, baby. You gotta relax, you're clenching too hard." He pulls back a little, watching you squirm underneath him. His eyes flick up to yours, checking on you. "You're doing great." He looks down at where they're joined, his eyes almost black with lust. "I'm gonna go slow, okay?"

You nod, trying to relax.

"Good girl." He looks back up at you, smiling. You can feel him push the head of his cock against you, until your walls finally give in, welcoming him inside. The stretch burns. He stops after the tip is inside, giving you a chance to adjust.

You gasp at the feeling. It's so different than his fingers. It's so uncomfortable, but there's also a spark of pleasure you can't ignore. He's so big. You try to breathe through it.

His lips are slightly parted as he pants through the effort of holding still. The muscles in his arms and chest ripple. You can tell he's fighting the urge to thrust into you.

He pushes forward the barest inch. He pauses, looking down at where he's inside you, then back up at your face. Your eyes are wide with shock at the feel of him. He moves a little farther in, then stops again. "You okay?" He looks at you, watching your face. You nod, gasping. He nods too.

Your hands come up to grab his shoulders, gripping them. Your nails dig into him slightly. He likes that, a low rumble of approval coming from his chest. He moves a little bit more inside, giving you time to adjust each time.

Finally, he's seated fully inside you. You can feel his balls against you, his hips flush against yours. He groans, dropping his forehead into the crook of your neck. "Fuck, you're so tight."

Your hands slide up his arms, wrapping around his neck for support. You can feel your pussy clench around him, protesting the intruder. He gasps, holding you closer. "Oh fuck, baby." You clench again, and he groans, his hips twitching against yours. You watch him writhe above you. "You're going to make me come if you don't stop."

He looks down at where he's seated inside you. Your pussy is stretched around him. Your pussy is stretched around his cock, your muscles straining to accommodate him. So pink, so wet. He groans, moving his hips slowly, drawing out, then pushing back in.

"Virgil!" You cry out his name tears wetting your cheeks, gasping as your hips buck against his. Your nails dig into his back, making him wince.

"Shh, you're doing so good for me princess." He nuzzles into your neck, voice hoarse. His cock slides in and out of you slowly. "Does it feel good?" He asks concerned, his movements stuttering.

He's fighting to keep himself from cumming. It's been so long. Two years to be exact and the feeling of your tight, warm, wet pussy suffocating his cock is not helping.

You nod frantically, unable to speak. It feels so good. Better than you ever thought it could. You're so full. You can feel him stretching you open, the head of his cock rubbing your walls. His hips move against yours, the friction making you pant and squirm. He's so big, the stretch makes every drag of his cock inside you feel amazing.

Just then, he hits a spot inside you that makes your brain turn into mush.

He feels you clench around him, and groans loudly. "Right there? Yeah? Oh fuck, you're so good for me." He's taunting you, mocking your pleasure. And you let him, because he's making you feel so fucking good, you can't think.

He picks up the pace of his thrusts, hitting your G-spot each time. You whine and squirm underneath him, legs coming up to wrap around his waist, trying to take more of him. Your hands grab at his hair, tugging at it lightly.

His lips press kisses against your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin. You cry out his name as he drags his teeth against it. "You feel so good, princess." He whispers against your skin. "You're such a good girl for taking all of my cock." He groans as he thrusts into you. "You're so tight and wet for me, aren't you? Fuck, I could die in this pussy, Y/N."

The praise sets off a spark inside you. You arch against him, moaning. He groans, his hips snapping against yours. "You like that? You like when I praise you for taking my cock?" You nod, whimpering as he hits your g-spot again. "Say it. Say you like it." His voice is rough, breath coming in pants. His hips keep moving against yours. "Tell me you like taking that cock in that tight little virgin pussy."

"Yes. I like it." Your voice is barely audible, a whisper. You're too busy panting and moaning to speak clearly. But he hears you. Loud and clear. "Please. Make me cum." You beg, legs tightening around his waist. You're so close.

He groans, his hips moving faster. His thrusts become more powerful, more erratic. You can tell he's close too. "Please." You whine, needing more. Something. Anything.

"Fuck, Y/N. Come for me my love. Give it to me." He pants. He grinds into you, his cock rubbing against your clit, giving you the friction you need. He feels you clench around him, and groans loudly.

"Oh my god! Virgil!" You cry out as your pussy spasms around him. Your vision goes dark, pleasure overwhelming your senses.

His movements become more erratic, losing his control. His hips snap against you harder, faster, the slapping of your bodies ringing through the room. The bed creaks underneath you. He's fucking you harder now, chasing his orgasm.

"Fuck, can't get enough of you." He gasps. His cock twitches inside you, and you feel his warmth spurt inside you. "Oh fuck, I'm cumming." His hips stutter against yours as he fills the condom with cum.

You can feel his cock pulse inside you, emptying itself. "Take it all, princess." He grunts. "You're so good for me. Such a good girl." He's slurring his words now, completely drunk off you.

He collapses against you, breathing heavily. You both lay there, sweaty and exhausted. His cock is still inside you, twitching occasionally as it drains itself inside the condom.

He stays inside you until his cock finally softens, slipping free from you. You wince as he pulls out, collapsing onto the bed beside you. Your poor pussy sore, throbbing.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling. Your breathing slowly coming back to normal. He moves his head onto your shoulder. "Did I hurt you?" You shake your head. "Good." His lips press a kiss against your skin. His hand reaches down to cup your pussy. "This belongs to me now."

His words send shivers through you. You look at him, but he's looking at your pussy. Watching as it gapes, clenching around nothing, desperatly trying to close back up after his cock carved out a space for him. His pussy now.

He smirks at the thought, his fingers rubbing gentle circles on you sore clit.

It's not long before the feeling of the condom starts irritating him, causing him to get up to remove it. As he slides out of bed, he glances back at you, lying there with your chest rising and falling in the aftermath of your passion. Your eyes flutter open, a soft, tired smile playing on your lips.

"Just a second," he murmurs, his voice tender, and you nod watching him disappear into the bathroom.

Your body felt different—sensitive, tingling, and utterly new.

Now, in the quiet aftermath, as you wait for him to come back, the gravity of what you just did hits you. You just had sex. With Virgil, your boyfriend.

This realization fills you with excitement, and you can't help but let out a little squeal of happiness.

He hears you. In the quiet of the bathroom. And his swells at the sound of your joy, knowing that he has brought you such happiness. He discards the condom and starts the bath. The sound of water running fills the room, giving time to reflect.

His thoughts linger on you the whole time—the way you trembled in his arms, the soft sounds of your pleasure, and the trust in your eyes.

He's the luckiest man in the world to be your first. And in that dimly lit bathroom of his, he promises that he'll be your last.

When he returns to the bedroom, he finds you sitting up, the sheet wrapped modestly around you. Your cheeks are still flushed, and there's a shy, expectant look in her eyes. He sits beside her, his movements careful and deliberate, "Hi there," he says softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"Hi." You're shy now, hiding your face in the sheets surrounding you, and he can't help but feel a surge of love for you in that moment.

He chuckles, prying the sheet away gently to reveal your blushing face. "No need to be shy," he whispers, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "How are you feeling?" he asks softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

"A little sore," You admit, voice barely above a whisper. "But... good. Really good."

He smiles, relief washing over his features. "I'm glad," he replies, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your shoulder. "I ran a bath for us," he continues, his voice gentle and full of care. "Thought it might help you relax."

You nod, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his thoughtfulness. "That sounds nice," you say, allowing him to drag you to the edge of the bed. The sheet slips away, and for a moment, you feel exposed, but his steady, adoring gaze makes you feel safe.

Getting off the bed, he extends his arms towards you. In one fell swoop , he lifts you up and carries your naked body to the bathroom, where a warm bath awaits to soothe your aching muscles.

Her legs are a little unsteady when he sets you down, but he holds you close, guiding you to the bath.

The tub is nearly full, steam rising in gentle curls. He tests the water with his fingers, making sure it's just the right temperature.

He then helps you ease into the bath, his hands never leaving your sides until you're comfortably seated in the warm water. The heat wraps around you like a comforting blanket, and you let out a sigh of relief as the tension starts to melt away.

Virgil watches you for a moment, a small smile playing on his lips. He kneels beside the tub, his fingers trailing lazily through the water. "Feeling good?" he smirks , his eyes twinkling with amusement at your relaxed expression.

You nod shyly at him brutying yourself deeper into the bath, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at his close proximity. "Thank you," you murmur softly, grateful for him, reaching out to touch his hand. His smile widens at your actions. You're so cute.

You look up at him, your eyes reflecting the gentle glow of the bathroom lights. His fingers intertwine with yours, and for a moment, the two of you just sit there, basking in the intimacy of the moment.

Eventually, he stands up, reluctantly breaking the connection. "I’ll be right back," he promises, disappearing into the other room for a moment. You watch his cute naked butt walk away, giggling to yourself.

When he returns, he’s holding a cup of ice cold water, a loving smile on his face. "Thought you might be thirsty," he says, offering you the glass. You take it gratefully, the cool water a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the bath.

"Thank you," you say again, taking small sips and savoring the coldness. Virgil sits on the edge of the cold tub, his eyes never leaving you. The tenderness in his gaze makes your heart swell.

As you finish the water, he gently takes the glass from your hand and sets it aside. "You look so beautiful," he murmurs, reaching out to brush a damp strand of hair from your forehead. You lean into his touch, feeling a sense of peace wash over you.

"Come join me," you say impulsively, your eyes sparkling with a newfound boldness. He raises an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice low and teasing. You nod, your heart pounding with excitement. Without another word, he stands and quickly steps into the tub behind you, the water sloshing gently as he settles in.

You lean back against his chest, feeling his strong arms wrap around you.

For a while, neither of you speak, content to simply be in each other's presence. His hands move in slow, soothing circles on your shoulders, gently massaging

Eventually, he breaks the silence. "So, how was it?" he asks softly, his breath warm against your ear.

"Perfect," you reply, turning your head to kiss his jaw.

His heart swells with pride at your words. Proud to have made your first experience good. "Good." he murmurs, his voice a soft rumble against your skin. He tightens his embrace, snuggling you closer.

It's silent again then you speak, saying the thing that's been on your mind since he left to get you the water. "D-did you enjoy it?." You ask, voice timid, shy. His hands still for a moment, and you panic. "I know you're probably used to this kind of stuff," you continue, trying to keep your voice steady, "I just... I hope it was special for you too."

He turns you gently to face him, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. "Y/N. It was more than special," he says, his voice firm, sincere. Reprimanding you from talking the love of his life down. "It was everything, because it was with you."

Your eyes well up with tears at his words, and you can't help but lean in to kiss him. The kiss is soft, slow, filled with the unspoken promise of a love that will continue to grow and deepen. When you finally pull away, his forehead rests against yours, and you both take a moment to just breathe each other in.

Virgil's hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a treacherous tear that had escaped. "I promised to take care of you remember. I intend to keep that promise forever. Okay?"

You nod, a soft smile gracing your lips as you lean into his touch. "Okay," you whisper, feeling the weight of his words settle comfortably in your heart.

The bathwater cools slowly, but neither of you are in a hurry to leave. You stay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, madly in love.

-Bianca🌻

#footballer x reader #football #virgil van dijk x reader #virgil x reader #virgil x you #virgil van dijk

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