#but it’s still really hard and i’m having a tough time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zoldsick · 5 months ago

Text

── Lagneía

𓍊𓋼𓍊 summary: shanks x f!reader - as the newest member of the red hair pirates, you have a long way to go to prove yourself, not only to your crew mates but your cocky captain as well. Unfortunately, things fall apart after a little excursion and a run-in with a glowing mushroom that has you feeling...hot.

𓍊𓋼𓍊 tags: smut, sex pollen, nsfw, dubcon (it's sex pollen, ya know how it is), MDNI

𓍊𓋼𓍊 wordcount: ~8k

𓍊𓋼𓍊 Read on AO3

𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊

You really did respect your Captain, though you didn’t tend to show it.

Benn Beckman was the one who had recruited you when he stumbled upon you in a gambling hall. You had been using Observation Haki to beat the dealer, racking up thousands in berri. Beckman clocked your underhanded method and cornered you outside the casino. You were nervous that he would report you to the authorities, but as luck would have it, he turned out to be a pirate. He was impressed by your advanced skills in Haki, and the two of you hit it off. Eventually, he brought you to the Red Force and introduced you to Shanks, who did not give the best first impression.

“Who’s the kid?” Shanks questioned, barely looking up from his drink.

He immediately rubbed you the wrong way.

Beckman cleared his throat before you could tear him a new one, “This is Y/N. They’re who I told you about, the one gifted in Observation Haki.”

Shanks finally looked up from his drink, lazily trailing his eyes from your feet, all the way to your face. He finally met your eyes and you struggled to maintain your composure under the immense pressure of his gaze. You lifted your chin, desperate to keep your dignity.

Shanks kept his eyes on yours, his gaze intense as he questioned you, “And why should you be a part of my crew? Have you ever been around pirates or even worked as one? It’s dangerous work. Are you sure you’re ready for this kind of lifestyle, kid?”

“I didn’t come here to be interrogated by some old man,” you bit back quickly.

Shanks put his hand over his heart dramatically, feigning emotional pain.

“Listen, Red Hair, I came here as a favor to Beckman, I don’t have anything to prove to you.” You paused as the hair on the back of your neck stood up, “And if your friend hiding over there even thinks about shooting that spitball at me, I’m walking.”

Beckman looked surprised, but Shanks only smiled. There was a clatter and some swearing before another man with dreadlocks emerged behind nearby ship supplies. “Well, shit. So much for that plan, Captain. Seems like she’s the real deal.” The man then jokingly blew the spitball at Shanks, who to your dismay, easily dodged it.

“Color me impressed.” You look back to see Shanks smiling up at you. “You have a lot of potential. Let’s work hard together, Y/N.”

…

While you didn’t join the Red Hair Pirates for Shanks, you became proud to be part of his crew over time. You had been sailing for around 6 months and were glad to say you had quickly proved your worth. Although there were members with better Haki skills, you knew you were improving every day with each new experience.

You hated to admit it, but your captain occupied much of your thoughts. You often wondered if Shanks knew just how hard you were still trying to prove yourself to him. Though you saw him often, you rarely ever worked with him directly. In fact, you’d barely spoken to one another after your first meeting. You had occasionally exchanged a few words, formalities really, at mealtimes and during duty; but a part of you wished there was more. Though, you would never let him know that.

You always put on a tough face in front of him, using words to bite back and hold your ground against the confident, and often cocky, Emperor of the Sea. Truthfully, after your first meeting you had come to admire him, and were slightly intimidated by the powerful man.

While sailing the Grand Line in the New World, the ship stumbled upon an uninhabited island. It was a warm, tropical island, thick with jungle and vines. Shanks decided that the crew would depart and explore the island for supplies, and Roux hoped to find some edible plants and animals for their stock.

All active members of the crew made groups and departed from the Red Force, but since you were not on shift, you’d decided to sleep in. When you awoke and found the ship docked, you decided it would be fun to explore the island as well. It was better than being cooped up all day in the barracks.

As you stepped down the ladder a cheery familiar voice called down to you, “And where do you think you’re going, kid?”

You jumped at your captain’s voice and looked up to see him. His hand gripped a rigging rope, holding him as he stood on the rail’s ledge, and leaned far off the ship to gaze down at you. His hair fell over his face, but his smile was still visible.

“God, Captain. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Well, I’m just trying to make sure our ship’s hawkeye doesn’t stray too far and get into trouble,” he teased.

“I’m not getting into trouble,” you grumbled as you looked back down to continue your descent onto the sand. “I just wanted to explore the island like everyone else.”

“Alone?” His smile slightly faltered.

“Is there a problem with that?” You ask, confused about where this conversation was going.

“Well, we can’t afford to lose a member with skills like yours. I’ll come with you.”

You reached the bottom of the ladder and looked up at Shanks in shock, “That really isn’t necessary, Captain. I don’t plan on going far-”

“Nonsense. Besides, you’re not much of a fighter, you should have a bodyguard when you go to unfamiliar places. And I have a duty to protect the valuable members of my crew.” As he said this he jumped from the railing and landed next to you.

You did your best to hide how flustered you were, “There are other members with better Observation Haki than I do, you included.”

Shanks tsked at your objection. He looked hard at you and spoke genuinely, “Don’t sell yourself short. I heard about how you helped the snipers take out that marine ship last week. And I heard how you helped guide the navigator through the rocky sea and fog the other day. I’ve only ever heard other crew members praising you.”

You quickly turned away from the red-haired man adjusting the strap on your bag. You knew you couldn’t stop the blush that was forming on your face, so you turned around to start walking into the jungle. “I just do what I’m told, Captain.” You quickly dismissed him, “Are you coming, or what?”

Shanks laughed as he caught up with you, walking ever so slightly behind you. The walk was silent as the two of you marched deeper and deeper into the jungle, occasionally stopping to inspect certain plants or animals or collect samples in your bag. He enjoyed watching you as you took in the new landscape around you. He’d always found it fascinating to watch you while you concentrated. In fact, he had rarely taken his eyes off you since you’d joined his crew.

From the second he met you, he knew you would be interesting. Shanks would be the first to admit he tested you during your first interaction. He purposefully pushed your buttons to see what you were made of. He needed to know how strong your resolve was before he let you, a stranger, onto his ship. And boy, did you meet his expectations, surpassed them even. Your insulting response nearly made him fall for you right then and there. But he knew his place as captain. He couldn’t risk showing special attention, let alone romantic attention to one of his subordinates. It was his job to keep you safe and provide you with a place to hone your abilities. He had to keep his distance.

Yet… here he was, an Emperor of the Sea, trailing behind you like a puppy. He was rightfully worried to see you sneaking off the ship after the assigned explorers already left. He was doing this because it was the captain’s duty to protect his crew. At least, that’s what he told himself.

As you pushed your way deeper through the vines you tried to ignore the fact that Shanks was tailing you. This was just like any other outing with any other crewmate. You felt his eyes on you the entire time as you walked, but you tried not to let it affect your movements. Was he judging you? You felt a little more self-conscious than usual about what you stopped to look at or how you collected samples. Especially when you caught him staring intensely at your hands.

You finally reached a large plateau. Looking up, you examined the wall looming far above your head, and at the base of the formation, there was an illuminated opening.

“Shanks,” you called out to your captain, “there’s a cave over there.”

Shanks shoved some pesky vines out of his face and looked toward where you were pointing. There was a small opening, barely 4 ft tall, and a blueish light was emanating from the abyss. You moved closer to the cave willing your senses to reach out and explain the phenomenon. You couldn’t sense any danger coming from the cave, so it was time to be like a pirate and explore.

“I’m going to go in.” You stated as you dropped your bag to the ground and started making your way to the entrance.

Shanks was quick, definitely not desperate, as he moved forward and grabbed your arm, “Woah! Hold on there. There is no way I can fit in there.” he gestured towards his large stature and again at the tiny entrance.

You considered the situation and shrugged, “Then wait out here. I won't be long, I just want to check out what’s causing the glow.”

Shanks frowned, realizing there was no point in arguing with you. “Alright, but be careful.”

You saluted him with an exaggerated hand on your brow and firmly stated,. “No.”

You turned away from him and focused back on the cave opening.

“Brat.” you heard him mutter under his breath. You turned around quickly, did you hear that right? He had a smile on his face.

You stared at him for a moment, a warm feeling blossoming in your chest. You smiled back before rolling your eyes and descending.

The walls of the cave were rich in color, with layers of lichen growing throughout the chasm. You strained your ears to listen for any unseen threats that could have been lurking beyond your sight, but all you could hear was the rhythmic drip of the cave walls weeping. As you bent and contorted your body to ease your way through the damp walls, you could see the blue light growing in intensity ahead.

Finally, you reached a large pocket of space in the cave, enabling you to stand straight and take in your surroundings. As you stretched out your back you stared in awe at the sight before you.

Dozens upon dozens of glowing mushrooms covered the room, growing across the walls and floor of the cave. The view was nothing short of dazzling, the light blue glow illuminating the space around you like nothing you had ever seen.

You approached the fungus carefully, although they were beautiful, you knew well that not all beautiful things were good. You drew a handkerchief from your pocket and crouched forward to grab a sample.

Suddenly, the hair on the back of your neck stood straight, and your blood chilled. You trusted your instincts and rapidly jerked backwards from the mysterious mushrooms. Unfortunately, you were not fast enough.

The gills of the mushrooms expanded and expelled a great mist of spores. The sickly sweet-smelling mist filled the room instantly and you yelped in surprise, feeling your way out of the room and back into the tunnel. You coughed as you darted through the veins of the cave desperate for fresh air and open spaces. You could hear Shanks calling out to you and you forced yourself to push forward toward his voice.

Shanks was anxious from the moment he heard you cry out. He felt helpless, unable to fit into the cave. He briefly considered blowing a hole through the mountainside to get to you. Thankfully, hearing your panting and clawing as you made your way out of the cave stopped him. He placed his hand above the cave opening and began calling out to you, begging you to keep moving toward him.

Shanks wasn’t prepared for what came out of that cave.

You stumbled out of the suffocating walls and fell onto the grass in front of your captain. You could vaguely hear Shanks, his voice filled with worry, but you barely registered it. Something was wrong. Your clothes felt tight and itchy, you felt your cheeks warm while the rest of your body developed goosebumps from the jungle air hitting your skin. And most troubling, everything from the deepest part of your core felt tight and ticklish.

Shanks knelt down, grabbing your shoulder to lift your gaze to him. The contact between the two of you sent electric shocks to your core. Sitting face to face with your captain you could barely breathe. At this distance, every feature of his face was at your fingertips. You took in your captain's features. The jagged shape of the scars that ran down his face, the prickly stubble he grew across his chin, his eyes bright with worry, the color of his lips… It took you a moment to realize he was talking to you.

“Y/N! Snap out of it! Y/N! What happened in there? What's going on?!”

The seriousness of his tone did not reach you. Why did he look so worried? You wanted him to smile at you like before. You reached up and touched his cheek with the back of your hand. Taken aback by this gesture, Shanks froze for a moment, then grabbed your hand, pressing it to his face harder. “Y/N. I need you to tell me what happened in there. You can do that for me, right?”

Your eyes widened, coming back to your senses you groaned as you tried to move away from Shanks and stand, only to find that your legs were jelly. “Capt’n. What's happening?”

Shanks let out a shaky laugh, “Well that's the million berri question right now, kid. Tell me what happened in the cave so I can help.”

You push your hands into your eyes, struggling to retrieve your memories, “The glow,” you whispered, “The glow in the cave. It was some kinda, I dunno, mushroom. It puffed some dust on’ta me.” you panted your words out.

“Good girl,” Shanks stroked your hair with his hand, “Now tell me, what did this mushroom look like?”

“Was so pretty, just like the sea. Blue and glowing.” You smiled at the memory of the beautiful sight.

While you reminisced on the memory, Shanks froze, overcome with the realization of what he was dealing with.

It happened several years before you joined the Red Hair Pirates. Shanks and Beckman were wasting the night away at some bar when a woman approached him. He had noticed the dark-haired beauty staring at him from across the bar but had paid no attention. It wasn't uncommon for him to get stares as an infamous pirate.

The woman set down a blue sparkling drink in front of Shanks, “Don't think you're from around here, handsome.” She smiled and batted her eyelashes at him, “How about we get to know each other over a couple’a drinks?”

Beckman stifled a snicker and Shanks shot him a glare. Looking back up at the woman, Shanks politely declined her advances, “Sorry, I'm afraid I'm not looking for any more company tonight,” Shanks slapped Beckman hard on the back making him wince, “This fella’s all the entertainment I'll need for the night.”

The woman tried to hide her annoyance with a smile, “Well then, sorry for interrupting.” She sneered as she turned away, “But the drink’s still on me. Do enjoy.”

Shanks and Beckman eyed each other and the drink skeptically. “Poison?” Asked Beckman bluntly.

Shanks let out a hearty laugh, “Well, only one way to find out!” And downed the sickly blue drink in seconds.

Shanks was stuck in his room the rest of the night, fisting his cock and rutting into his mattress. He admitted it wasn't his best decision. Hongo guessed that based on the color he likely ingested an aphrodisiac made from a plant called the lagneía fungi. “I've heard of petty thieves using it on pirates to steal their loot.” Hongo looked at Shanks scornfully, “Can't believe our captain fell for something like that …”

Shanks shook his head refusing to believe the evidence right in front of him. No! It can't be that. He brought his gaze back down at you and examined your face. You were flushed red, your pupils were dilated, and your gaze wandered across his body. He reached out to touch your arm and you gasped, goosebumps exploding from his touch. He really couldn't deny it any longer.

“Alright Y/n, don’t worry. You’re going to be just fine, just try not to panic.” Shanks spoke, trying to reassure the both of them. Despite his words, Shanks himself was panicking. What was he going to do with you? Sure, it's just an aphrodisiac, but truthfully the experience was borderline torture. Furthermore, judging by how quickly its effects were overcoming you, you must have gotten a serious dosage in your system. If you were a male member of his crew he would laugh it off and condemn you to your bunk with a porno mag like he had done for himself. But how could he let you of all people suffer alone like this?

“Am I gonna die? Everything feels weird,” tears pricked at the edge of your eyes, “like I’m on fire.”

“You’re not going to die.” Shanks insisted, “You’re just, going to be… uncomfortable for a little while. Let’s get you back to the ship so you can lie down.” Shanks bent down and grabbed one of your arms to maneuver you onto his back. Hoisting you up, your breath hitched as your center came into contact with Shanks’ back.

Shanks took off at a brisk pace, navigating the rough jungle terrain. You tried to take Shank’s advice to calm yourself, but you were distracted by the friction created between you and Shanks as he strode back to the ship at an agonizing pace. Everywhere you were touching him felt hot and unbearable. You began to feel a familiar sensation brewing in your lower abdomen. No way, there’s no way! You panicked at the feeling and tried to create distance between you and Shanks to alleviate the burning coil between your legs, but he gripped your thigh back, securing you to his back. “Stop squirming, are you trying to fall over?”

“Captain, ugh.” You buried your head in his back, panting from the unintentional pleasure, “Please slow down. Wait, please sto- Ah!” Suddenly the pressure built up to its peak. You squirmed and shook against your Captain’s back, fingers digging into his shoulders, unable to control your movements or your voice. With a final moan and gasp, you pushed yourself backward off of Shanks’ back onto the jungle floor.

Shanks circled back on his heels to find you curled up on the ground, “What are you doin-”

The realization hit him. He noted your shaking legs and rapid breaths and suddenly he became aware of a slightly damp spot on his back where your bodies had just been connected. He grappled with his own arousal seeing you like this, disheveled and glassy-eyed.

“God, Captain. I’m so sorry,” You covered your face with your hands, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I couldn’t stop myself.”

Shanks was kicking himself mentally as he watched you before him. Here you were feeling humiliated, embarrassed, and vulnerable; yet, there he was feeling himself getting hard at the sight. He’d wanted you for so long, wanted to make you his. Shanks licked his lips. He pushed down his indecent thoughts and turned his attention back to you. This wasn’t the time. You needed to get back to the ship, and right now that’s all that mattered.

In one swift movement, he scooped you up, placing a hand under your legs, carrying you in his arm. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face into his neck in embarrassment as he took off running. He was fast. You felt the wind on your face as he swiftly maneuvered through the trees at a great speed, his black coat flapping in the wind behind him. It took less than a minute for him to reach the ship. Shanks bounded onto the deck and managed to avoid the eyes of the returning crew. Reaching his room, he quickly ducked in and closed the door behind him, causing maps and papers to fly in all different directions.

Shanks walked with you in his arm over to his bed and laid you down as gently as he could. “Y/N, you need to listen to me,” he slipped his hand through your hair and gripped the back of your neck to force you to look at him. You looked up at him dazed, trying your best to concentrate on what he was telling you rather than the feeling of his hand on your neck. “You’re not dying. Those spores were an aphrodisiac,” He looked at you hard, making sure you understood what he was saying, “That’s why you’re feeling like this.”

You groaned and tried to hide your face out of embarrassment, but Shanks held you firm. “I’m going to get Hongo, he might be able to find some sort of sedative to help you work through this. You might have a shitty night, but I promise you’re going to be alright. I’ll be right back, ok?” He said softly.

Shanks lightly rubbed the back of your neck with his thumb before turning to leave, but you sat up and clutched his shirt to pull him back, “No! Please don’t. Don’t get Hongo.” You buried your head in his shirt, “I don’t want anyone seeing me… like this.”

Shanks’ gaze softened, “Y/N, Hongo is a professional, he’ll definitely be able to help.”

“No...I don’t…I can’t have anyone see me like this, please Captain. I-” your voice cracked, “I worked too hard to gain respect on this ship. Please. Don’t let anyone see me like this.”

Shanks began to disagree, “Hongo really would know the best way to deal with this, Y/N…” he stopped upon seeing the panic in your eyes. He sighed as he relented, “But, I’ll keep this between us for now. If that’s what you really want.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, though it was short lived. The aching between your legs was demanding attention, and you didn’t know how much longer you could restrain yourself from tending to it.

“Y/N.” You looked back up at Shanks, “If you really intend to deal with this on your own, the only way I know you can find relief is to stimulate yourself or… have sex.” Shanks kept your gaze as he spoke. “I’ll leave you my room. At least that way you can have some privacy while you deal with this. I’ll make sure nobody comes in here. You have my word.”

“Captain…” You found it hard to look him in the eye, you knew what you were about to ask wasn’t right, “Please. Don’t leave me.”

Shanks froze, for a moment he was speechless, he waited for you to meet his gaze and searched your eyes, “Y/N, do you really understand what you're asking right now?”

“I-” You doubled back over struggling to compose yourself, gripping Shanks silk sheets. Just imagining sleeping with your captain was enough to make your arousal unbearable. Despite your best judgment you shakily reached down and palmed in-between your legs, exhaling from the slight relief it gave you. You looked back up to Shanks, eyes pleading, “I can barely manage this right now. I can't do this alone. I'm begging you, please Shanks.”

Shanks stared at you, mouth agape and spellbound by the proposition. He could feel his mouth watering and his pants tighten. Shanks remembered just how miserable he had been with just the small dosage he’d taken, so he couldn’t even begin to imagine the turmoil that was currently wrecking your body. He balled his fist gathering the last bit of restraint he had and whispered, “It… wouldn’t be right of me to do this. You’re not in your right mind, you’d take anyone in your condition-”

“No. You’re wrong,” you were breathing heavily, choosing your words carefully, “I couldn’t bear it being anyone else. I want it to be you… Unless,” Your breath hitched, you weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer to the question you were about to ask, “do you not… want me?”

This was the final straw for Shanks. You had broken the great Emperor who’d tried so desperately to do the right thing. His resolve crumbled at your words and he found himself lunging toward you. He pounced over you, throwing you back onto his mattress as his lips crashed onto yours. Your senses exploded with electricity by his contact and you moaned into his mouth, eagerly accepting more. It was utterly overwhelming and you couldn't control the noises that escaped from your mouth as Shanks pushed your hand away to tend to your clit himself, shoving his hand down your pants.

Shanks briefly separated your lips and breathed heavily trailing kisses along your cheek and to your forehead, “I’ll ask you… one more time,” he muttered between pecks, “Are you sure about this?” He pulled back to meet your eyes.

“Old man,” you huffed at him, “Won’t you shut up and put your mouth to good use for onc-”

Shanks didn’t let you finish your sentence and forced your mouth wider to deepen your kiss as he worked to slip your pants off. Once they were off you spread your legs obediently for him, pushing your hips against his hand for more friction. With your pants out of the way, Shanks had more freedom to explore your folds. His thumb kept a steady rhythm on your bud as his other fingers dove lower. He smiled as he found how soaked you were for him. He gathered copious amounts of slick from your pussy, and used it to tease you further. Shanks moved his mouth down your neck, leaving dark spots where he sucked and teased.

You could already feel that you were close to climax, you squirmed and whined for more. Shanks relented to your obvious request and slipped two fingers inside you. The gratifying release was instantaneous. You gripped Shanks’ arm as he massaged your walls through your orgasm. He reveled at just how seductive your body was and how your pussy gripped his fingers tightly.

Shanks lifted his head out from the crook of your neck and glanced over to you, but you were worlds away. His whole body reacted when he finally saw you in shambles from his touch. Tears streamed down your reddened face, unable to concentrate on anything besides how good you felt, you just focused on trying to catch your breath. It was all so overwhelming, Shanks’ touch, his kisses, and his scent all around you.

Shanks’ breath hitched as he let out a snide laugh, “Well, I guess that’s one way to shut you up, brat.”

Shanks pulled away from you for a moment and the sudden loss of contact made you whimper. Shanks scolded you, “Quiet now, it’s not good to be impatient, Y/N.” Shanks teased as he shook off his coat and lifted his shirt above his head, discarding it onto the floor. You watched, entranced by the way his muscles moved. His broad shoulders and massive tanned biceps patterned with scars. You felt the heat grow again as he turned back to you.

You pouted at Shanks’ words, “It’s a little difficult being patient when you're so horny you feel like you're gonna explode!” You huffed, frowning dramatically. “Being in a hot man’s bed and watching him strip is not helping my situation.”

You immediately regretted your words as you watched his brow rise and a wicked smile form on his face. “A “hot man,” you say. Is that what you think of me?”

“Don’t get cocky,” you spat back, staring him down. He glared back, not backing down from your challenge. You couldn’t take it anymore. You just wanted him.

With a mischievous smile, Shanks crawled back over to you, placing his knee strategically between your legs pushing into the wet spot of your underwear. He ground his leg as he reached his arm up to pull off your shirt, you lifted your arms to make it easier. Shanks sighed with bliss as your breasts came into view, no bra in sight.

You gasped as Shanks’ hand groped one of your breasts and his mouth found the other. You leaned back and interlaced your fingers in Shanks' hair stroking and pulling on the red strands. You couldn’t help but inhale his scent as he devoured you.

Shanks released his lips off of your nipple with a pop and moaned, “In all my years,” he said breathlessly, “I’ve never wished so much that I had both of my hands again.”

You couldn't help but laugh at this statement, it was just too ridiculous. Shanks eyed you curiously, “Are you laughing at your Captain? Or, are you going to start calling me by my name like you did before?” Shanks’ mouth moved lower down your body, kissing your stomach as he trailed down, “Don’t think I didn’t notice you called me ‘Shanks’ earlier. What made you think you could drop honorifics with your Captain like that?”

All you could do was watch him as his lips moved closer and closer to your core, you were speechless with anticipation. Shanks played with the fabric of your underwear, tracing the hem and circling lower towards your clit. You jumped from the sensation. “Though, I have to admit. I did like the sound of my name on your lips.” He continued to tease you with both his words and his movements.

“Please, just touch me already, I can’t-”

“Call me by my name again. Then I’ll consider helping you.” Shanks was enjoying this far too much. His eyes twinkled up at you as he grazed your hip bone with his fingertips.

You gave in immediately, your pride nowhere to be found, “Shanks. Please make me feel good. I’m begging, Shanks.”

“That’s more like it.” Shanks shoved your underwear aside and thumbed your clit roughly. You arched your back at the sudden contact and cried out in pleasure. Shanks was completely enthralled with what was happening in front of him, he couldn't take his eyes away from your glistening pussy, soaking wet, all for him. He wanted more and demanded, “Lift your hips.”

You immediately obeyed your captain and raised your hips. Shanks grabbed your underwear and ripped them off you. You leaned back with anticipation, but nothing came. You peered up at the red-haired man and you realized he was examining your panties. “Oh. Sorry, I know that old pair isn’t exactly sexy…” You explained self-consciously. Then suddenly, as if he was possessed, he shoved your soaked underwear into his face and inhaled deeply. Your mouth fell open at the sight. At last, when he lowered your panties from his face he stared at you intensely, his eyes drunk and lazy from your scent.

You watched mesmerized by the man in front of you as he tossed your underwear aside, gripped the back of your thigh with his arm, and shoved it back towards your head. Before you could react to the sudden change of position, Shanks plunged his tongue between your folds and lapped up your juices. You gripped his hair as he indulged in your aroused pussy. Shanks moaned into you as you tightened your grasp and pulled his hair slightly. He felt his hard-on twitch painfully, desperate and leaking with pre-cum. It didn’t take long before you were rutting into his face, chasing another high and coming undone for a third time by your captain.

As your spasms ceased, Shanks sat back up between your legs. You were mortified to see his face covered in your arousal. You sat up and began to apologize, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry let me just-” You raise your hand to wipe away the creamy slick from his face, only to have it shoved away and to be brought into another hungry kiss. The juices from Shanks’ mouth mixed in with your saliva as your tongues intertwined.

You were at Shanks’ disposal, at his mercy. You wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anyone. It wasn’t enough, not yet. You needed more. Reaching down, you pressed down on the protruding tent that was rising in Shanks’ pants. Shanks pulled away from you slightly and hissed at the contact. You continued to palm at his growing member and whispered, “I want this, Shanks. I want to make you feel good too.”

Shanks laughed weakly, “Well… if you ask me like that, who am I to say no?” He moved back to sit on his knees and fumbled with his belt and pants. You couldn’t help but smile at how he shakily tripped over his buckle with only one hand. You reached up and helped him by pulling his pants down. Although you knew from feeling him earlier, you were still taken aback by the sheer size of his cock as it nearly smacked you in the face.

You eagerly eyed his cock and looked up at Shanks hovering above you, “Can I…” you begin as you reach up to take him in your grip, “suck it?”

Shanks couldn’t help but let out a gasp as you came into contact with his dick. “If- that’s what you want. But only a little. I’m not confident that I’ll last long if yo-” Shanks was cut off by your tongue trailing up the side of his cock. A shiver ran up his spine, and he gripped your hair with his hand to hold on for dear life. You wanted to taste every part of him, you couldn’t hold back.

You weren’t particularly experienced, but somehow you knew exactly what to do for him. You teased his rosy tip with your tongue, licking circles before wrapping your lips around it. You savored the salty taste and traced your tongue along the veins running down him. There was no way you could take him in his entirety, but you pushed as far as your throat could allow. You only got a few pumps in before Shanks stopped you. “Alright. That’s enough.” He sat back down on his rear and motioned for you to come to him, “This isn’t about me.” Which was true, but he knew his words were just an excuse. He easily could have come from just your tongue if he wasn’t careful.

You got up on your knees as Shanks requested, and straddled him. His dick sat hard in between the two of you as he pulled you in for another breathtaking kiss while he used his free hand to continue to stretch you out. Finally satisfied with his prep, he broke the kiss and lifted your ass to hover over him. Shanks looked up at you and purred, “I’ll leave this part to you.” He wrapped his large hand around yours and guided it to his throbbing cock, “I don’t want to hurt you. So you need to go at your own pace.”

You hesitated slightly at his command, insecure about your skills. But whatever shyness you felt about taking the lead was quickly dismissed by your overflowing arousal. With one hand on Shanks’ shoulder to steady yourself and the other seizing his member, you raised your hips to accommodate his height. You rubbed the head of his cock on your dripping pussy and you both hissed from the contact. Once Shanks was properly lubed by your fluids, you held your breath and slowly lowered your hips onto the tip of his cock. The head alone stretched your inner walls with an intensely painful pleasure. You felt overwhelmed by his size and the electric current that emanated from its pressure. You intended to take him slowly and acclimate to his size, but your instincts took control. You wanted to feel full. You wanted to be completely consumed by him. You hastily realigned yourself, took a breath, and slammed your hips down, instantly taking him down to his base.

Neither of you could keep your voices contained. You let out a moan laced with the pain and pleasure of finally receiving Shanks in his entirety. The feeling was devastating. You gripped Shanks’ head pulling him to your chest as you entangled your fingers in his hair. Shanks cursed as he willed himself to stay in control, the pressure and sensation of your grip was mind-shattering. He wrapped his arm around your waist, gripping your skin to ground himself.

You didn't give him time to recover. You raised your hips again and slammed down hard against him, receiving a grunt from him. You felt drunk, unable to control your actions, you found yourself rocking into him at an uncontrollable pace. The pain was fading away and was replaced by unbelievable pleasure. You needed more, you needed him everywhere.

Shanks took advantage of your position above him, trailing kisses along your chest and leaving occasional bruise and bite mark. He used his tongue to tease and suck on your hard nipples. His hand wandered along the length of your back, grazing your spine with his fingertips leaving you gasping. Even the slightest touch on your body created an unbearable reaction, flooding your senses with bliss.

Shanks’ hand continued to explore your body, ticking the nape of your neck, pinching your nipples, and finally falling between your legs. He flicked and rubbed your clit as you rode him at an alarming pace. You felt yourself nearing another climax as the coil in your core began to tighten. You chased the high as you ground against him, willing yourself to continue despite feeling like you were on the brink of collapse.

Your climax hit you like a train, bringing earth-shattering pleasure throughout your body. You fell forward, pushing Shanks onto his back as the feeling overtook you, unable to continue. But Shanks wouldn't let you rest and you couldn’t contain your voice as Shanks cruelly thrusted up into you, compelling your senses to disintegrate as he fucked you through your peak.

Your ears deafened and rang as you laid exhausted against Shanks’ wide chest, still twitching on his dick. Shanks slowed his pace and you sat on him for a moment as you tried to catch your breath. You felt lighter than when you’d first entered Shanks’ room and your head was clearer, but the burning desire still lay unsatisfied. You tried to sit up to keep riding until your body was appeased, but found yourself collapsing again. Your legs were wobbly, unable to continue. “Shanks,” you whispered, “I think you’re going to have to take over from here. Please.”

Shanks was still reeling from your ruthless pace on his dick. He looked up at you, astonished that you still had the energy to keep going. “So demanding. You’re making me forget I’m the captain here.” Shanks sat up and reversed your positions, laying you flat on your back as he hovered over you, “But, I guess I’ll follow your command this time, Captain.”

Shanks pushed your legs back again and took a moment to examine your swollen pink pussy. It dripped and pulsed in anticipation, making it obvious that the mushroom was still wreaking havoc on your nerves. Shanks knew you wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer and decided to bring this to an end as soon as possible. He positioned himself above you and gripped his cock. Pushing it on you, he teased your clit with his tip for a moment before moving lower and watching in awe as you swallowed his thick cock to the brim of his balls.

You gripped the sheets around you tightly, this felt even deeper than before, he was reaching far down inside and rubbing all your sensitive spots. He sat there a moment breathing deep with his eyes closed, feeling the deepest corners of your pussy squeeze and warm him. He was only brought back to reality when you squirmed and whimpered underneath him. You needed more friction, more movement, more anything. Your body was not going to be as patient as Shanks was wanting.

Shanks opened his eyes and smirked down at you, “Don’t worry,” he gripped your thigh tightly with his hand leaving it stinging, “I’ll give you what you want.”

Without warning he lifted his hips, leaving his tip barely inside you, and plowed himself into you as deep and as hard as he could. You choked on your own breath as he pulled out and hammered down into you again, and again. He set an abusive pace, each stroke hitting your deepest nerves and causing waves of spine-tingling pleasure.

Your heightened senses multiplied every feeling, every touch, and every kiss. You felt as if your body was going to disintegrate underneath Shanks. The sensation in your body was unfamiliar and frightening and it was becoming too much. You put your hands on Shanks’ chest in a half-hearted attempt to slow him down, but his merciless tempo continued to wreck your body. Twitching from pleasure, you attempted again to turn your body to run from the feeling. It was all too intense, it was too good and you couldn’t take it anymore.

Before you could move away Shanks forced you back into position and entangled his hand with yours. His thrusts persisted as he leaned down his head next to yours and whispered gruffly into your ear, his slurring voice tickling your neck, “This is what you wanted, right? What you needed? Take it for me. Be a good girl for me.”

You were nearly comatose from the pleasure racking your body. Just from his words, you reached another climax, and Shanks fucked you through it once again. Your eyesight became hazy and you knew you needed to ground yourself. Out of desperation, one of your hands reached out to claw his back and the other clenched his hair. You opened your mouth and bit down hard on Shanks’ shoulder. Shanks hissed harshly as your teeth pierced his shoulder, yet he found himself smiling. Your disobedience had always been a turn-on for him. Excited from the pain, he moaned into your ear, “I’m- close. So close.”

“Come in me.” You cried out. You knew you sounded desperate, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted him to ruin you, “Please come in me, Shanks. Please… Please… Please,” tears ran down your cheeks and you lost all sense of self. All you knew was that you wanted Shanks, every last bit of him.

It took all of Shanks’ willpower not to fulfill your request.

Every last instinct in Shanks’ body willed him to release inside you, to truly make you his. But his reasoning prevailed. He knew that despite everything he could not do that to you in this state. So, with a few final harsh thrusts, Shanks pulled his cock out and released his warm come across your stomach.

Shanks collapsed next to you, panting. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this. Everything around him felt fuzzy as he came down from his orgasmic high. Once he finally caught his breath again, he turned over and reached for you.

You had passed out.

…

You woke with a jolt of pain as you turned over on your side in your sleep. Groaning, you shifted your body to try and stretch out your achy muscles. However, you realized that you couldn’t move. There was a weight laying across your abdomen… and your leg… and there was something pressed up against your back…

Your eyes snapped open.

You weren’t in your room, that was obvious. But where were you? You turned slightly to lay on your back, and looking down you saw an arm strewn across your stomach. Horrified, your eyes trailed up to see whose arm it was. It took everything in you not to scream as you realized you were entangled in your captain's sleepy limbs.

Your mind raced, desperate to remember what happened. You were exploring the island, Shanks came with you, you went into the cave and…

It all came flooding back.

You lay there in shock.

What was going to happen now? What if someone saw you? Would you have to leave the ship?

Your eyes wandered to where he lay, breathing deep in his slumber. He was shirtless and you couldn’t help but stare. Looking down you realized you weren’t wearing your own clothes, but rather an oversized off-white button-down shirt. It was obvious that Shanks lent you his own shirt. What a gentleman, you thought sarcastically as your body ached. But, you couldn’t help yourself, you turned your body to face him for a better look at the man before you, admiring his strong features.

As you savored the view in front of you, Shanks willed his body to sit as still as possible. He had woken up nearly an hour before you had and had spent the time watching you sleep, stroking your hair, and indulging in the feeling of sleeping next to you. He panicked when you shifted in your sleep and decided to pretend to be asleep. To his surprise, you hadn’t gotten up to leave, and he could feel your warm gaze on his face. He savored this morning, never wanting it to end.

The peaceful moment was ruined in an instant.

Shanks’ bedroom door flew open with a loud crash as none other than Benn Beckman strode in. You and Shanks’ eyes flew open and met each other in horror before turning your attention to the trespasser. Beckman didn’t get more than three steps into his Captain’s room when he realized what he stumbled in on.

There was a moment of silence, all three of you stared at each other, taking in the information in front of you.

Finally, you came to your senses and flung the sheets over yourself to hide from the embarrassment. You felt Shanks’ hand lay protectively on your back as you hid, “Beckman,” He spoke sharply, “you’d better have a good reason for barging into my room.”

Beckman gulped, “Definitely not a good enough reason for this.”

“Right. Beckman?”

“Yes?”

“Leave. Now.”

“Right. Don’t have to tell me twice.” Beckman turned to the door and stepped out of the room. You peeked out of the blankets and saw Beckman pause before closing the door behind him. He looked back at you and Shanks sternly, “I hope you two know what you’re doing.”

And with that, he closed the door.

You peeled back the covers and emerged next to Shanks. The two of you sat in silence for a minute, both pondering Beckman’s statement. He had a good point. What were you going to do now? Mushroom or not, the two of you crossed the boundary between captain and crewmate. Would you both ignore it and pretend nothing happened?

Your mind was spinning down all the possibilities that were laid out in front of you. Shanks thought your ears would start smoking soon, and he spoke first. Laying you back down on his arm he spoke two simple sentences that made you relax and settle down to sleep.

“Let’s worry about this tomorrow. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊

𓍊𓋼𓍊 authors note: HUGE shout out to @nanpecan for editing this and helping me not sound illiterate

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skeltnwrites · 2 months ago

Text

At Least It’s Not the End of the World ♡

After protecting the kids from demodogs and sentient tunnel vines with Steve, a weekend babysitting Holly Wheeler together is supposed to be simple. That is until feelings neither of you expected start to make things way more complicated.

gn!reader, takes place in between seasons two and three, people who fight monsters together to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff 16k

── .✦

It doesn’t take long to remember why Holly is your favorite Wheeler. She’s patient and sweet, amazingly level-headed for a preschooler, and her manners could put some adults to shame. Compared to her siblings, Holly’s a little sweetheart. And a mama’s girl through and through, clinging to Mrs. Wheeler more often than not.

Like now, she wriggles in her mom’s lap, scrunched over a coloring book at the dinner table. She squints at her box of crayons and purses her lips— choosing colors is hard when you’re five. She hasn’t said a peep since you arrived, but in the foyer, she greeted you with a clumsy wave and a sheepish smile.

“It would be Friday afternoon to Monday morning,” Mrs. Wheeler explains, stirring a glass of lemonade with a curly straw. “I’d ask Nance but she’s having a girl's weekend.”

You glance at Steve. You know girl’s weekend is code for spending the night with Jonathan Byers. But if he knows it too, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t so much as bat an eye at her words. In fact, he’s relaxed under Mrs. Wheeler’s gaze. He’s sitting in a chair he’s sat in dozens of times before, talking to a woman he sees more frequently than his own mother.

You don’t know her as well as he does, but you aren’t strangers by any means.

“And Mike, well, he’s not old enough to watch her for that long. But he’ll be staying over at Joyce’s so you don’t have to worry about him,” she pauses to sip her drink. “I’d pay you, of course. I don’t know what your schedules look like— I know you’re probably busy with the new job, Steve— but I figured since it’s a few days, I’d offer it to you both.”

Steve flashes an honest smile and leans forward. “Are you kidding? I’d hang with this squirt for free. I’m actually off this weekend so it works out.”

Mrs. Wheeler beams, eyes springing to yours.

“Yeah, I could help too,” you shrug. You also happen to be free this weekend and the extra cash would be nice.

“Great! You both are so lovely. Oh, I was so worried, I kept telling Ted– well, it doesn’t matter now.” Her bracelets clink and clash as she reaches across the table to cover your hand with hers. “You’ll have to keep an eye on these two. She becomes quite the riot when her Stevie comes over.”

Steve chuckles and raises his hands in defense. “She owes me a rematch at Candyland so I can’t promise anything.”

Mrs. Wheeler’s fingers retract from yours, landing on the end of Holly’s pigtail. “She’s really missed having you over. Asks about you still.”

Holly ducks her nose into her paper, pink traveling up her ears.

“Is that right?” Steve teases. “I’ll have to swing by more often.”

“Please. You’re welcome anytime, Steve. Whether Nancy’s here or not.” Her attention drifts to you. “And the same goes for you. Mike won’t stop talking about that comic book you gave him.”

A smug grin surfaces. Out of all of the kids, Mike is a tough one to please.

“I’ve never been away from Holly for so long. But I trust you guys.” Mrs. Wheeler pecks Holly’s crown to hide a wobbly smile, her sentence spilling out in a breathy string of words.

She really does trust you both. It would take another set of hands to count the number of times either you or Steve had driven her kids home safely. This is just different. She loves all of her kids equally, but Holly’s her baby.

Holly’s eyes cast up at her mention, bright as a sunlit gem.

Mrs. Wheeler smooths her daughter’s sleeves down her shoulders. “But Holly’s a good girl. Right, Hollybear?”

She turns to bury a toothy smile in her mother’s shirt.

Mrs. Wheeler is meticulous as she presents each and every detail of Holly’s routine. From car seat safety to emergency contacts to allergies, she covers every question you might have before you have it.

Steve’s a good listener but he’s cursed with a very short attention span. Mrs. Wheeler lost him somewhere around Holly’s sudden aversion to mac and cheese, but she doesn’t seem to notice. You’ll fill in the gaps for him later.

This won’t be the first time you’ve babysat with Steve. Dustin roped you both into hunting his pet lizard-turned-alien which very quickly escalated to protecting four children from not one, but several, vicious aliens. Safe to say you two are experienced enough to handle one kid for a couple of nights.

You haven’t seen Steve much since then. It’s summer now. The demodogs and sentient tunnel vines feel much more like a dream than something that actually happened to you these days. Steve works at the Scoops in Starcourt, or so you’ve heard several times– Dustin only reminds you about every time you see him. But despite being as close to death as you’ve ever been beside Steve, visiting him at work feels strangely wrong. Like crossing a line that neither of you ever drew.

You would not consider Steve Harrington your friend. You’re friendly, as you might be with a neighbor or coworker, but you don’t talk much outside of world-ending, portal-to-another-dimension kind of events. He’s family in a weird sort of way, bound by the shared trauma and unspoken loyalty— like someone you only see at family reunions, familiar enough to care about but still a stranger in most ways. High school was a long blur and your circle of friends couldn’t have been farther from his. So you don’t know Steve, not really. But of what little pieces of him you have come to know in the last year, he’s not half bad at babysitting.

ᯓ★

On Friday afternoon, you park your car beside Steve’s shiny BMW in the Wheeler’s driveway. You take the house key that had been slipped from Mrs. Wheeler’s key ring to yours and unlock the front door. And you find that inside, it’s completely silent. Holly’s quiet as a mouse but she’s still a kid and kids make noise.

Your bag drops onto the floor beside Steve’s shoes as you toe off your own. When the kitchen and living room turn up empty you jog upstairs. Alarm sinks in on the last step where you still hear nothing. No shouting, no laughing, no crying, no nothing.

There’s a large window in the hall upstairs, dividing Nancy’s room from Mike's and Holly’s. In your panic, you miss the suspicious lumps in the drapes that frame it.

As you brush by, Steve rips the curtain across the rod and shouts, “Ha! Gotch– Oh.”

Your entire body jerks, fear cinching every nerve. “Christ! Steve!”

“Sorry, sorry!”

Your nostrils flare with hot air as you shove him, “You scared me!”

His open palms hover in between your chests, unsure how to help. “I thought you were Holly. Sorry.” He gives you an apologetic once-over before a breathy chuckle escapes.

“It’s not funny. All the shit we’ve been through. God.” He’s lucky you didn’t punch him. A part of you still wants to.

“Mommy says that’s not a nice word,” Holly says from behind you.

You turn, shoulders sagging in relief. “I didn’t mean to say that. Sorry.”

“Stevie, I was supposed to find you,” she whines incredulously, hands planted on her hips.

“We can go again. I’ll find a new spot.”

Her frown mends as quickly as it appeared and she skips back to her room to count.

“Sorry,” Steve reminds you. “Help me find a spot to hide?”

Soft eyes, a softer smile. It’s hard to stay mad when he looks at you like that. “Okay.”

Twenty seconds isn’t very long to hide. Especially when Holly counts as fast as she does and when you spend half of your time standing in the hall. So you end up crouched in the corner of Mike’s closet, Steve arched over you, trying his hardest not to crush your toes.

“Jesus. Does this kid even wash his clothes?” Steve whisper-shouts. “It smells like something died in here.” His palm snaps to the wall behind your head, the flesh of his arm warming your ear.

“You actually couldn’t have picked a worse place. Oh my God.” You press the neckline of your shirt over your nose. Steve’s wearing enough cologne to drown out the stench of dirty socks, though it’s choking you all the same.

“We had like three seconds. I panicked!”

You’re glaring at him but only a fraction of light filters in from underneath the door so you’d guess he doesn't see.

The closet is the first place Holly checks when she barges into Mike’s room, but you’ve never been happier to be caught so fast.

“My turn!” She glows in victory, pigtails swishing like yellow ribbons as she shouts.

Steve huffs. “Let’s take a break. We’ve been playing for like an hour.”

“Can we play tag?”

“In a little while. I’m tired.” He pinches her neck playfully until she squirms out of reach. “How’d you have all that energy?”

She shrugs with her whole body. “I dunno. I’m a kid.”

A laugh bubbles out of your throat. When your eyes flit to Steve you find him already smiling at you.

“What about something a little more chill,” you suggest. “We could color?”

“Bracelets?”

“You want to make some?”

She nods, “I can’t reach them. The beads are on top of my closet.”

“I’ll get ‘em,” Steve offers. “Come show me where.”

You fan out her multitude of craft containers across the kitchen table. Beads, charms, strings, all neatly filed away. She pops open a lid and plunks down across from you. Steve takes the seat at the end in between.

“What color bracelet are you gonna make?” you ask, raking through the rainbow of options.

“Umm, yellow. No– green!”

“Nice. Here’s a cute little frog charm. Want that?”

“Mmmm. No, thank you.”

“I’ll take it,” Steve says, stretching his hand toward you.

You drop it in the center of his palm where it clinks against a handful of blue beads. They’re pretty and vibrant like the sea. A flicker of an idea pulls you to grab your own handful.

Holly slides four beads onto a string, two lime green and two baby pink. She drags the other end up and they all slip off, bouncing in separate directions across the table. You smack one before it dives onto the floor and Steve catches another two mid-air.

“Can you help me tie it?” Holly asks from under her chair, searching for the fourth.

“Sure.” Steve swaps his bracelet for hers, triple knotting one end. “I like these colors.”

She resurfaces with a grin, voice lilting as she speaks, “Do you like purple?”

“Yeah, purple’s okay. Do you?”

She nods, pinching a lilac gem and examining it.

You slip into a peaceful rhythm. The bead bin rattles as Steve digs his fingers in. He murmurs something about sparkles as he shuffles. Every now and then, you peek up at him. And each time, you find that he’s fully absorbed in this, rubbing his chin or poking his tongue out in concentration. You’d even bet he’s having fun.

“Can you tie it on me,” Holly asks when she finishes.

Steve takes her hand gently, fingers engulfing her tinier ones. “This good?” He tugs the strings across each other at her permission, sealing it with an extra knot for good measure.

Holly starts a second one as you finish your first. You hold it up triumphantly for them to see– red and blue beads between every white pearl.

“Very patriotic,” Steve teases.

“It’s for you. For scoops. These are the colors right?”

He softens, eyes rounding like brown buttons. “Wait, really? Thank you. Wow.” He inspects it fondly where you release it in his palm. “Will you tie it?” His arm shoots over to your side of the table.

You feel his gaze shift from the bracelet to your face as you lace it. And you pretend that it doesn’t make your cheeks burn.

“You don’t have to wear it to Scoops if you don’t want to,” you mumble, releasing his wrist.

“What? Of course, I’m wearing it. No one’s ever made me a bracelet before.”

Your lips bend up into your cheeks as he leans back in his seat. He twists and turns his arm, looking it over again with a similar expression. “Now, it was supposed to be a surprise, but since I’m almost done, I actually made this for you.” He scoops up the piece he’s been working on and waves it in front of you.

You cock an eyebrow and smirk. “You sure you didn’t just decide that since I gave you one.”

“I didn’t! I was planning this the whole time! Right Holly, didn’t I say that?”

“No?”

“Holly, come on now.” He elbows her arm. “Supposed to back me up.”

“But you didn’t,” she giggles.

“Holly doesn’t lie, Steve.”

“Okay, I didn’t say it. But I thought it. I was gonna give it to you I swear.” He jams another couple of beads on his string. “See! Look, it has your favorite color on there.”

“It has every color on there.”

“One of which is your favorite.”

You roll your eyes as he takes your wrist. His hands are warmer than yours, softer than you expect too. He stills as your palm flips face up. A jagged, fleshy ridge runs from the bottom of your pinky to the meat of your thumb. Steve was there when you got the scar. He’s never said it, but you know he blames himself for it. A demodog had you pinned in that damned junkyard school bus so Steve pushed you out of the way but you caught yourself on a broken window.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

His head dips in a silent nod. He isn’t sure whether to believe you or not. Either way, he feels sorry still.

His bracelet is a statement piece for sure. It truly has every color under the sun and a random assortment of charms and shells. But it’s sweet that he gave it to you. Even if he totally did not plan to do so at first.

He makes a second bracelet for Holly with purple string and butterfly pendants. Holly gives her next one to him as thanks, then begins on a third for you.

Steve stands from the table. “I’m hungry. Grilled cheese okay for dinner Holly?” She nods as do you when he asks you the same.

Your focus drifts between him and the necklace you’re starting for Holly. He coasts around the kitchen naturally, like you imagine he would in his own house. But it’s a bizarre sight. Steve Harrington cooking you food, in the Wheeler’s kitchen out of all places.

And he’s about as good as a chef as you expect him to be. He’s clumsy and uncertain, even dropping a spatula on the floor with an, “Oh, shi–ugar…” But he kindly refuses to accept any help or advice when you offer.

He eventually swings around the kitchen island, brimming with pride, one plate in each hand. They’re set in the space you’ve cleared and you quickly see that the sandwiches have been cut adorably into stars. You just as quickly see– and smell– how burnt they are. They aren’t black, they’re edible for sure. But Holly’s five, and polite as she is, most kids would never willingly eat this.

So you aren’t surprised when she looks at it in disgust, borderline horror.

“Look, it’s a star,” Steve beams, oblivious.

Your chest aches with the desire to laugh and an equal pang of sympathy.

Holly shakes her head, visibly toning down her expression for his sake. “Can I have something else?”

“It’s good! I promise, just try it.”

She slowly shakes no again.

“Steve,” a peel of laughter escapes your lips. “It’s burnt.”

He scoffs. “It’s not that burnt.”

Your mouth twitches in a funny little line and your eyes leap between him and the plate. “It’s pretty burnt, Steve.”

After a moment of silence, he sighs and picks both plates back up.

“Wait,” you shout, “I’ll still eat mine! Mine isn’t that bad. You did a good job!”

He sulks at you. “You’re just saying that. I’ll make new ones.”

“No, it’s okay, really. I’ll eat this one. I don’t mind.”

He plants the plate in your grabby hands and spins back toward the stove.

Round two is much better, still star-shaped, and a few shades lighter. Holly thanks him more than once while eating it without you even asking her to. If only Nancy and Mike were as precious as her. And Steve eats the first attempt, now cold, and admits that it tastes, “slightly burnt.”

You take the empty plates to the sink to wash while Steve and Holly lug the jewelry kits back upstairs. You meet them in Holly’s room after. They’re playing house, Steve the dad, and Holly the mom, with four babydolls for children. She appoints you to be the neighbor when you join.

You knock on her bedpost, pretending it’s her front door. “Holly, in one hour you’re gonna take a bath.”

Her head pops out from under the blanket. “Can we watch a movie before bed?”

“Sure, but we have to do bath now if you wanna watch the whole thing.”

“Okay!” She kicks the sheets away, jumping off the bed in a race to the bathroom. Steve winces as she steps on his hand.

“Do you need help?” he asks, sprawled across the bed, socked feet hanging over the edge.

“No, I got it. You can rest in peace now,” you joke, halfway through the door.

Holly is self-sufficient enough to bathe herself so all you have to do is supervise. You find a matching polka dot set of pajamas in her dresser and a towel under the bathroom sink. And she gets dry and dressed all by herself, Miss Independent.

“So there’s The Little Mermaid, E.T., Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory…” Steve trails off, kneeling in front of the entertainment center.

Holly hands him a VHS tape, “This one?”

“Ooh, good pick.” Steve feeds the tape into the player and rewinds it.

You pat the couch cushion beside yours as Holly skips over. Steve hits the light before flopping into the recliner with a satisfied groan. The Jungle Book glows to life on the TV, casting an indigo wash over each of your faces. Holly curls into herself, knees tucked to her chest, arms wrapped tight around them.

“Here,” Steve chucks a blanket from the basket at his side.

“Thanks.” You scoop it off the floor where it missed the couch and billow it out over you and Holly. “Don’t fall asleep, Harrington.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve folds one leg over the other and crosses his arms, eyes glued to the screen. He reminds you of Mr. Wheeler sitting in his recliner like that. It’s alarming how attractive you find it. He’s not even doing anything worth staring at. You force your eyes back on the TV.

The credits scroll up the screen for a whole minute before you realize the movie has ended. You aren’t asleep but you aren’t totally awake either. Steve’s not far off by the looks of it and Holly, on the other hand, was out like a light halfway through. Her head presses into your upper arm, her hand scrunched in the blanket on your thigh. The weight is nice, making it all the harder to pick yourself up and get her to bed.

But thankfully Steve’s there to help. He twists in his chair until his back clicks, smiling when he catches sight of you and Holly. “I’ll carry her up,” he whispers.

You gently work Holly’s stubborn fingers from the blanket as Steve stands. He pushes the rest of the fabric into your lap before bending to scoop Holly up.

“Be right back,” he says, starting toward the stairs.

You tug the blanket higher, seeking lost comfort in its folds, though it doesn’t compare to the warmth Holly provided.

Steve pads back down not a minute later. He stops on the last step, hanging over the railing. “You awake?”

“Barely,” you mumble.

Steve plods up to the front door to check the locks. He orbits into the kitchen and then back around to the living room to turn the TV off. He’s being the responsible one. You aren’t sure why this surprises you.

“Come on,” he opens his hand toward you.

Your arm snakes out from under the blanket, and he lifts you effortlessly. You’ve seen how strong he is, how he fights, but it still surprises you.

“I was gonna suggest another movie but I don’t think either of us’ll make it.”

You catch a yawn from Steve. “I know. I’m so tired. It’s not even late.”

He hums from behind you on the stairs. “Yeah. Who knew this’d be so exhausting.” He’s only being slightly sarcastic. There’s an obvious truth to what he implied, but at the same time, it is so much harder than you realized it would be.

You stop at the landing, sluggishly turning to face Steve. “Well, goodnight, I guess.”

“Goodnight.”

You splinter into opposite ends of the hall. Steve let you have Nancy’s room for obvious reasons, though he wasn’t thrilled about crashing in Mike’s bed. He’s probably better off on the couch after seeing the kid’s closet.

You change into cozier clothes and untuck Nancy’s quilt. Like with Steve, you and Nancy aren’t really friends. It’s strange being in her room, settling into her bed. And it’s almost stranger that Steve is sleeping across the hall. Yet, there’s an odd comfort in it— being surrounded by people who went through the same thing you did.

ᯓ★

There’s thumping in the hall– footsteps, too light to be Steve’s. You fight the urge to go back to sleep. Holly needs a babysitter. But it’s not an easy feat, not when you’re swaddled like a baby in blankets much softer than the ones you have at home. You’re warm and it’s so quiet it feels like a gift; that is, until you remind yourself that kids and quiet don’t usually go hand and hand. She could be answering the door to a stranger, scaling the counters, setting the kitchen on fire, the possibilities are endless.

You force your heavy eyes open and flinch as a much brighter pair come into focus.

Holly bends over you with this innocent endearment you cannot possibly be mad to be woken by. “Told you, Stevie,” she says.

“No, you woke ‘em up, goofball.” Steve lingers at the foot of the bed in a pair of striped pajama pants and a faded Olympics tee. You’ve never seen him in pajamas before, or anything quite like it.

You prop yourself up on your elbows and rub your eyes for a better look.

“Sorry,” he supplies. His voice is still raspy with sleep and his oh-so-perfect hair shoots up in wild peaks. The sight makes your chest buzz. “She said you had to get up to.”

You redirect your attention to Holly, pinching the neckline of your shirt back over your shoulder as you sit up.

“Can we have eggs?” she asks you.

“Sure.”

She traps her lip between her two frontmost baby teeth. “Five?”

“Five eggs!” Steve chides. “Just for you?”

She turns to nod at him, smile blooming.

He wears the same joy, ruffling her already unruly bed-head. “What are you a linebacker?”

She giggles, clueless as to what he’s talking about.

“Let’s start with two and if you’re still hungry you can have more,” you compromise.

You are undeniably a better cook than Steve, but the bar is low after yesterday. You serve scrambled eggs and unburnt toast. Holly looks at her plate like she hasn’t been fed a day in her life and she shovels spoonfuls of it in her mouth like it’s her last meal.

Steve watches her with an anxious frown. “Smaller bites, Holl.”

She nods but doesn’t exactly slow her pace. Steve chases your eyes, knocking your ankle with his when you don’t look. He gives you that funny face parents make. Help me out.

You shrug. “It’s just eggs. Babies eat eggs.”

He cycles through several emotions—frustration that you won’t back him up, disbelief that babies eat eggs, and a lingering fear that she might choke. But he stops himself from asking all the what-ifs, he trusts you.

Holly swallows half of her glass of chocolate milk in one go. Steve looks mildly horrified.

“My God. She’s like a little human vacuum,” he mumbles through a mouthful of toast.

You snort into your glass. If Holly heard him, she’s too preoccupied to care.

After breakfast, Steve sets her up in front of the TV to watch cartoons while you clear the table. He disappears into the basement in search of a board game but comes back with some deflated, plastic thing.

“What happened to the board game?” you ask. “What even is that?”

“It’s a kiddie pool. Let’s go outside. It’s nice out.”

“I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”

“Me neither. Just wear that.”

You wrinkle your nose down at your pajamas. “Go see if she wants to.”

He smiles, retreating back into the living room. Shortly after, he shouts, “She said yes!” Footsteps pound up the stairs, followed by a second shout, “Don’t run!”

Mrs. Wheeler calls the house phone and is pleased to hear your good report. She reminds you several times to apply sunscreen to Holly’s ears and that there’s an extra can in the upstairs bathroom. You wrangle Holly over to put her on and promise to call back before bedtime when she refuses to hang up.

You sift through your bag, changing into the closest thing to swimwear. Steve takes forever in the bathroom, which doesn’t surprise you one bit. He comes out in a crisp white tee, way too expensive-looking for a pool day, and a pair of red gym shorts.

“What are you, the lifeguard?” you joke.

His hands snap to his hips. “Uhh, I’ll have you know I’ve been a certified lifeguard for two years, so yeah, actually.”

You roll your eyes, brushing past him for the extra can of sunscreen. “Are you ready? Holly’s waiting.”

“Yeah. Let me go blow up the pool. I’ll be outside.”

You fix your hair in the mirror and tuck a few towels under your arm before heading downstairs. Holly’s already outside, criss-crossed in a big lawn chair and watching Steve with incredible boredom. He stands barefoot in the grass, the deflated pool pressed against his chest. He pulls away from the air valve when he notices you, quickly capping it with his thumb.

“You okay?” you ask, laughing lightly.

He nods, red-cheeked and breathless. “Think there’s a hole in it. Been blowin’ for like five minutes.”

“Huh,” you drop the towels and take one end of the limp plastic. “Try again.”

He funnels more air inside, it dispurses evenly underneath your palm. You don’t hear any air wheezing out so you turn it over for further inspection.

“Oh, Steve. Here, look.”

He pops his mouth off and follows your pointer finger. A second valve at the bottom, unhinged and releasing his hard work steadily.

“Oh, you’re kidding me. Why’d they put one under there?”

You shrug, plugging it back up. “Holly, let’s get some sunscreen on so your mom doesn’t kill us.”

Holly hops off the chair and skips to your side. You mist her skin in several layers, lathering a generous amount over her ears. When you move onto yourself, she grabs her basket of toys and climbs into the dry inflatable. Steve retrieves the hose and releases a cool stream into the pool, splashing Holly’s feet.

She squeals and scoots back. “Cold!”

Steve’s thumb eclipses the opening so the water bursts out in wide a fan. He trains it at Holly, spraying her until she’s soaked and screaming.

He’s giggling in a way you’ve never heard. Genuine, open-mouthed reels of laughter. You hate to admit it, but it’s really cute. So infectious you can’t help but join.

He glances back for your reaction, pleasantly satisfied. And your smile incites a great idea. He swings the hose around, aiming it straight at you.

“Steve!” Your arms shoot out to block the attack but it’s no use.

“What?” he says, the epitome of innocence.

Your eyes narrow but a smirk prevails. “Oh, you–”

Holly tackles the back of his thigh with a scream. Steve stumbles forward and the hose slips from his grasp.

You lunge for it before he even realizes what happened. And by the time he does, he’s already drenched. “Payback!” You laugh maniacally as he combs his hair out of his eyes.

He’s laughing too, bent at the waist, still shaking his surprise. But only until he catches your gaze– then comes the glint of something playful, almost daring.

Steve barrels straight through the spray like a bull. He chokes your fingers over the nozzle, bending and bending the line until the water pours straight down your head.

Holly dashes behind you to wrangle the wiggly tail of the hose, squealing at every layer of mist she catches.

You and Steve wrestle with it, his hand on your hip, yours pushing his shoulder. He’s gentle but still strong. And his touch sears through the cold water, your skin tingling in his wake.

The second he sticks the end down the back of your shirt you scream. “Okay, okay! I surrender!”

He crimps the hose with one hand, smirking deviously.

“I surrender,” you repeat, heaving through your laughter.

Holly drops her end of the hose, backing up one slow step at a time.

“Truce?”

“Truce,” you nod, stepping up cautiously to shake his hand.

He accepts your hand, using it to yank you closer and blast you again. You chase and dodge and tackle each other under the blazing sun until your legs feel like jelly. But the game eventually slows as exhaustion creeps in.

You and Steve collapse in the lawn chairs while Holly lays belly-down in the pool. Water sloshes over the rim onto your toes as she kicks, a brief reprieve from the sticky heat. You're relaxed, but your mind wanders. You keep hoping the Wheelers won’t notice the sudden increase in their water bill.

“Dustin talks about you all the time.”

You tear your eyes away from Holly, blinking back into reality as you face Steve. “What?”

“Dustin, he talks about you all the time. Kid loves you.”

“Oh. He’s a sweet kid. Talks about you too. Keeps telling me to come see you at Scoops.”

Steve chuckles, more of a half-hearted puff of amusement than a real one.

“Which, I’m sorry I haven’t, by the way,” you confess.

His eyebrows jump, lips parting in soft surprise. “Oh, no. Don’t worry about it. He’s just being Dustin.”

You press a blade of grass flat under your heel, as if the right words might sprout from the dirt. “I dunno. I mean, don’t you think it’s kinda weird that we don’t like talk? After everything?”

The words bounce around Steve’s head for a minute. He fixates on your choice of weird. Weird, like bad? Weird like you want to talk? He can’t decide. And he’s afraid if he opens his mouth, the wrong words will tumble out.

But he tries anyway, “Honestly, I thought you didn’t want to be friends. You were just so… distant after.”

You rub the length of your arm, lips creasing into a frown. “Sorry, I was just. I don’t even know. Rattled, I guess.”

“Yeah, rabid dogs with faces that split open and try to eat you tend to have that effect.”

Your frown melts, little by little.

“But we should’ve been there for you more. It was a hard time for everybody.”

His apology echoes in your mind, the ache like a weight on your chest.

“You could visit if you wanted to. At scoops. I could get you ice cream for free.”

But the ache doesn’t stand a chance against the way he makes you feel.

“Okay.” Your cheeks round with a sincere smile. “I’d like that.”

He turns his head, as if to hide, but you still catch an echo of your own expression. Your eyes flicker across the contours of his profile, following the graceful line from his ear to his collar, before drifting over the sculpted shape of his arms and the long expanse of his thighs. Steve Harrington is objectively attractive. This isn’t the first time you’ve thought so. But it is the first time that fact makes your head spin.

Maybe it’s the heat. The sun feels like it's roasting you alive, and Steve’s attractiveness certainly isn't helping. You’re feeling strange, thinking crazy things– the kind of thoughts that only come when you’re on the verge of heat stroke certainly.

You stand abruptly and the grass sways underneath your feet. But you get your bearings before anyone notices. “Holly, can I come sit in the pool?”

Her eyes pop up, grin distorted underneath the water. She props her elbow up and rests her cheek in the palm of her hand. “What’s the password?”

“Umm, can you give me a hint?”

A high-pitched hum. “Okay. She’s my favorite character.”

“Uhh, Barbie?”

“Nooo.”

“Strawberry Shortcake?”

“Nooo.”

“Hello Kitty?”

“You’re really bad at this,” she giggles. It would be really cute if you weren’t possibly dying right now.

“It’s Care Bears,” Steve interjects, snapping his fingers. “Uhh, the yellow one. Umm, Funshine!”

“Yes!” Holly glows like the sun on Funshine herself. “Stevie can come in.”

Steve stands but he doesn’t get in. “Come on, Holl. It’s hot.”

“There’s a new password.”

“Okay, okay. Can I have another hint?” you ask.

Her tongue curls out to lick the sweat off her lip. “My favorite color.”

“Purple?”

“Yes,” she nods and sits up. “But I really like yellow and blue and pink too.”

You sink into the water, unsure if there was ever a wrong answer. It’s shallow and lukewarm, barely grazing the tops of your thighs, but it’s enough to cool the sun off your skin. Steve follows, and the space tightens awkwardly— the inflatable wasn’t built for three. His knee brushes yours while Holly’s toes nudge your foot, but neither of them seems to mind.

You cup water up to your cheeks and pour it down your arms.

“Better?” Steve asks, a droll little pinch to his features.

He’s staring at you which is definitely not helping but you nod anyway.

“Why don’t we move to the shade?” He stands before you or Holly agrees, offering his hand to pull you up.

She races Steve to the nearest tree, though he doesn't stand much of a chance dragging the pool behind him. He refills it with fresh water and encourages Holly to splash you gently while he runs inside to make lunch. By the time he returns, you’re feeling much more yourself.

“Bon Appétit,” Steve announces, lowering himself slowly onto a towel. He carries three animal-shaped plates stocked with fruit and PB&Js, one in each hand, another balanced on his forearm.

Holly scrambles out of the water, plopping onto the other end of his towel. You get out too, shaking a second one out to lay beside theirs.

“Lion or hippo?” he asks Holly.

She hums for a long time, inspecting each plate meticulously before pointing to the lion.

“Good choice.” He sets the plate in front of her crossed legs and passes you the hippo. Steve takes the polar bear for himself, which notably only has half a sandwich.

“Where’s the other half?” you ask.

He takes a large bite, pressing his hand to his mouth to reply, “Ran out of bread.”

“Here.” You rip one of your halves in half.

“Thanks,” he says, syllables tangling as he chews.

Holly watches the interaction fondly before pulling apart her own sandwich. It splits in a jagged line, mostly crust on one half. But happily, she thrusts the bigger piece toward Steve, jelly dribbling down her little fist.

He tilts his head, a growing smile mirroring yours. “You eat it. I have enough now.”

She crinkles her nose. “You eat it!”

“No, you!” He squeezes her slim bicep. “You need to get big and strong.”

“What about you?”

“I’m already big and strong.”

She considers this, giving him an obvious once-over that makes you laugh. “Trade?”

“Okay, trade.” Steve chuckles, exchanging one of his halves for hers. He licks a stripe across his knuckle where her sticky fingers brushed his. It’s as innocent as the gesture can be but something about it has your cheeks burning in a way the sun couldn’t.

Conversation tapers off, replaced with an easy quiet. Your stomach is satisfied with the food, but it’s your heart that feels the most nourished, steeped in the comfort of good company. You hadn’t expected to enjoy hanging out with Steve or Holly this much.

Holly slouches into your arm, stretching her legs across the grass like a bridge between the towels. Her heels push into the pudge of Steve’s thigh, the faintest smirk crossing her lips.

He squeezes her ankle until it darts away.

Gradually, she presses again and in turn, he squeezes, but this time he doesn’t let go. She squeals as he drags her down your side. But all hell breaks loose when he starts tickling the bottom of her foot.

She shrieks, thrashing and squirming against his hold, giggling in between gasps. “Ste–vie!” she cries.

Her laugh is too pure of a sound to be real, Steve thinks. His resolve crumbles, grip faltering. And Holly’s heel slams smack into his jaw. Steve winces, bending away to cradle his cheek.

You straighten up. “You okay? Let me see.”

Holly’s legs go limp in the grass, her shoulders tense in your lap.

Steve’s hand slackens unveiling a red splotch not much darker than his sunburnt cheeks. He meets your eyes with a dismissive shake, “It’s okay.”

You believe him. It doesn’t look nearly awful enough to make your concern stick. And his face has been through worse. Billy Hargrove painting his fists red with Steve’s blood is one of the things you remember most about that night.

His attention dips down to Holly. She sniffles, eyes glistening in the sunlight with a frown nearly reaching her chin.

“It’s okay. I’m okay, Holl.”

Holly putters, whimpers drowning the edges of her words. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay! I promise! It doesn’t even hurt,” he reassures, cupping her kneecap.

You tug her off the ground and she sinks into your arms naturally. Hot tears pave a path down your neck only to dissolve in the fabric of your shirt. You coax her sobs out, one back rub at a time.

Steve waits until she settles with this pitiful look on his face. “I know you didn’t mean to Hollybear. Just an accident. Hmm?”

She nods against your chin.

He strokes the back of her arm, fingers grazing yours where they work. “Please don’t cry.”

Holly sniffles.

“You know what might help me feel better?” She lifts a sweaty cheek off your chest as Steve opens his arms. “A hug.”

She pushes out of your hands into his. He holds her tight, providing one loving squeeze after another.

This is not how you pictured Steve to be under normal babysitting circumstances. A voice like sweet honey, eyes warm like the sun. He’s very soft, and so undeniably kind. And not just to Holly, but also you.

Steve hooks the spare towel closer, draping it across her back. “Lean back,” he tells her.

She avoids his gaze as she does, tears melting away under his touch.

“You know what I think?” He cinches the towel at her collar like a cloak.

She hums.

“I think we should have popsicles for dessert.”

Holly meets his eyes then, excitement glimmering underneath the droop of lingering guilt.

“How does that sound?”

“Good,” she admits meekly.

A smirk thins his lips. “I dunno though. What if we get a tummy ache?” He pokes her belly through the towel. “Maybe it’s not–”

“No– I want one!”

“I dunnooo,” he sings.

“Please, Stevie! You already said.”

“How bad do you want it? Like this much?” He pinches his fingers together, leaving the slightest gap between them.

“No, no!” She shakes her head, casting her arms out as far as they’ll go. “This much!”

He sighs loudly, shoulders sagging for the dramatic touch. “Okay.”

Holly’s arms curl around his neck as he stands. He’s more than happy to carry her, but the added weight makes him groan.

You trail behind automatically, half enjoying the show and just as excited for a treat. Steve pins the back door open with his foot, returning a smile you hadn’t realized you were sharing. Your cheeks are starting to protest, sore with overwhelming happiness.

“What color do you want?”

“Pink! Pink!” Holly shouts in his ear, loud enough to make you wince. But Steve doesn’t react in the slightest to her volume. You’d all taken a piece of the Upside Down with you after El sealed it up. And just when you seemed to forget it, you’d be reminded in the form of scars, nightmares, headaches, and in Steve’s case, hearing loss.

He opens the freezer, Holly propped on his hip. She’s far too big to be carried like that comfortably but he does it anyway.

“Pink for Holly. Red for Steve.” He leans back to find your face. “For you?”

You purse your lips, “Surprise me.”

Steve stows Holly on the countertop so he can snip the plastic tips. She receives her popsicle first, then you, and finally Steve.

“Matching,” Holly observes as you sit beside them on the couch.

Steve crosses his popsicle over your identically red one when you raise an eyebrow. “Look at that,” he says.

She hums, gnawing on the plastic wrapper. Steve pushes the ice up for her and thumbs away the dribble at the corner of her mouth. She doesn’t seem to notice, but it catches you off guard. Steve’s such a natural at this you almost can’t believe he’s an only child.

You turn the TV on to an episode of Care Bears as Holly slumps into Steve’s chest, slurping the last of her slush loudly.

“Sleepy?” you ask when she kneads her eyes.

“No.”

You chuckle, combing her frizz back. “Okay.”

“You know, it’s okay if you are sleepy,” Steve mentions, equally amused.

“I know. I’m not.” Her tone is casual, a portrait of nonchalance, despite the yawn that slips out afterward.

You and Steve exchange a look of mutual fondness.

“I’m pretty tired,” Steve declares, reclining into the cushions with a fake yawn. “I think I’ll take a nap.”

Holly twists against him to watch. It doesn’t take long for her little fingers to poke and prod his lashline.

He peels one eye open, playfully cocking an eyebrow.

She giggles and pinches the skin closed.

You’re trapped between nervously supervising she doesn’t poke his eye out and leaving to get a baby wipe for her hands which you imagine are very sticky with popsicle juice. Either way, you’ll be surprised if Steve doesn’t have pink eye by morning.

“I’m sleeping,” he whines and headbutts her palm gently.

“Nooo,” she whines back, wedging her hand across his mouth. Delirium is setting in, a nap is imminent.

Steve opens his eyes, giddy just the same. “Okay. You got me.”

Holly frees his mouth to swipe a streak of red from his chin. Her tongue pokes out in prime concentration.

A staggered laugh of disbelief is shaken from Steve’s chest. He hadn’t expected Holly to be difficult, but she’s been nothing short of delightful. She’s sweeter than Mike and Nancy combined and smarter than he thought kids her age could be. For a self-indulgent second, he hopes that his kids will turn out something like her.

Holly reels back around to lay on her side, eyelids sagging with an inevitable heaviness. Steve draws the towel up to her chin, fixing his palm to her back. You watch her drift off, eyes slipping up every so often.

When you’re positive she’s out, you cautiously dislodge the popsicle wrapper from her fingers. Steve passes his as you stand.

One of the many hard things about kids is all the cleaning. Holly’s as neat as a five-year-old gets, and still, every moment of peace is an opportunity spent putting things back where they belong. You head outside to tip the pool over and collect stray towels and toys that didn’t make it back in.

By the time you return, Steve’s passed out, mouth ajar, head craned back against the couch. It’s not a particularly attractive expression– he’d probably be embarrassed to wake to your staring– but you can’t find anything other than endearment in yourself.

You shower and change into fresh clothes and end up on the opposite couch to watch TV. But Care Bears isn’t all that entertaining anymore so you rest your eyes for just a second.

A second turns to several and when you reopen your eyes you discover the clock is two hours ahead of where it was before.

The silence is only comforting for a fleeting moment before anxiety creeps in. Your eyes flick from the TV, now powered off, to the other couch where Steve and Holly are not where you left them. Nor are they in the dining room, kitchen, basement, or backyard. You take the stairs two steps at a time and nearly trip over a blanket strewn across the banister when Holly screams.

You’d have kicked her door off the hinges if it came to it but are thankful it’s already open. Holly is perfectly safe, bent over the remnants of what you assume was a pillow fort.

You release a breath caught in your throat and sag against the doorframe. Steve offers an apologetic smile when he notices.

Holly glances over but quickly returns to their game. “You’ve destroyed my kingdom!” she shouts, drilling a finger into Steve’s chest. “Off with your head!”

You’re too stunned to laugh, but a noise of confusion skips out. Steve gawks at Holly in pretend despair, scrubbing any seeping amusement off his lips with the back of his hand. He’s dressed in sweats, Holly in a princess dress. But more importantly, his face has been caked in makeup and his hair twisted into two fluffy knots.

“You!” Holly yells with a scowl aimed at you. “Hold him down!”

Steve pleads at your ankles, pressing his forehead to the carpet in prayer. It takes every ounce of you not to break character and laugh. There’s something so surreal about Steve Harrington, former King of Hawkins High, in sparkly eyeshadow, kneeling before a little girl to beg for his life. It’s hilarious as it is heartwarming.

“If I may propose a suggestion!” You counter, equally dramatic. “A trade! For this silly man’s life, we will help rebuild your kingdom twice as big! Princess I–”

“Queen!”

Steve snorts but she must miss it.

“My apologies. Queen Holly, I can assure you this new Kingdom will have all of the finest luxuries that royalty like yourself might desire.”

She takes a second to process the big words. “Fine!” She sneers, diving onto her mattress which is absent of all its sheets and blankets. “Chop! Chop!”

You bite your lip, chasing the fervent smile away. Steve gets right to work, sorting pillows from most to least sturdy. You steal another chair from Nancy’s desk and help Steve double-knot the roof to it. It’s no mansion, but it is long enough for Steve to lie down in, which is a job well done in your book. Especially when you’re under strict supervision and listening to a thread of loud critiques.

You lift the door flap for Holly to crawl through. “Your quarters, Your Grace.”

She glances over her shoulder with a wicked, but mostly adorable, expression. “My name is not Grace! It’s Holly! Queen Holly to you!”

The explanation dies on your tongue because how can you possibly argue with that? You’re just grateful to still have your head.

After the grand tour, Queen Holly disappears into one of the tent’s offshoots with a handful of stuffed animals she's referring to as her royal guards.

Steve scoots closer, whispering behind his hand, “I think we need to stage a coup.”

You lean into his good ear, affection spilling off your tone, “I didn’t know she could be so mean.”

“Me neither! She must be hanging out with Mike.”

“Must be.” You grin for what feels like the millionth time today.

You’re sitting knee to knee, close enough to catch the heat of Steve’s breath on your cheek. You drag the pad of your finger across his cheekbone where teal eyeshadow has been caked on in several layers. “I like this,” you compliment.

I kinda forgot she put that on.” He ducks his head bashfully, peeking up through his eyelashes. “Do I look pretty?”

“The prettiest.”

He receives it as teasing, but it’s true, you do think Steve is pretty. A strong nose, kind eyes, and sure, maybe the hair. But now that you’re inches apart, you notice twin smile lines, a series of freckles down his cheek, and a faded scar across his forehead. You linger there more than anywhere else, under the guise of judging Holly’s makeup job, of course.

But the silence twists into something less comfortable with each passing second. A brief twitch of emotion flickers across Steve’s face, gone before you can name it. “So… pizza for dinner?” he blurts out.

Before you’ve processed what happened, Holly shouts, “Cheese please!”

Steve splinters from your gaze, calling back, “Yes, My Queen.”

Dinner is pleasantly easy. The pizza’s delivered and paper plates save you from the hassle of dishes after. You eat at the kitchen table, sharing stories and smiles, strangely like a family.

And after dinner, Holly has a bath; and after bath, Steve whisks her off to bed. You’re left to your own devices for once, a benevolent bout of peace, but still, you can’t seem to relax.

The spray of the bathroom light paves the hall leading to Holly’s room. You tiptoe up to the door and peek inside.

Steve’s on the floor, slouched against the side of the bed cradling Holly to his chest. He flinches as your shadow veers across the moonlit wall.

“Sorry,” you whisper, dropping onto your knees beside them.

Holly picks her head up, tear tracks shimmering as she turns. Her lip wobbles through a whimper.

You soften like wax near a flame, eyes flitting to Steve who looks equally at a loss.

She curls her knees into his tummy in a way that probably hurts. The poor thing dissolves into fresh tears, spilling out faster than Steve can chase away.

“Holls, it’s okay, honey. Me and Stevie are here, okay?”

She strains to speak through a chain of gasps, “I want my Mommy!”

“I know, I know. She’ll be back before you know it, I promise,” you steer sweat-slick hair behind her ear.

“I want her now.”

“We’ve got ya, Holl,” Steve chimes in.

“We’re right here.”

“No– Mommy!”

It goes like this for a while, soothing reassurances met with unyielding resolve. Holly’s not one to be stubborn for no reason. She’s so exhausted and upset it breaks your heart. You try reading and music and back rubs but there seems to be no end to her sobbing.

Steve strokes her ankle where it’s now tucked underneath her in your lap. He looks exhausted– hair draped over his forehead like a claw, extra weight embedded in each of his eyelids. You’re both at your breaking point. “You wanna sleep with me tonight Hollybear?” he says in a tone gentler than you’ve ever heard.

“No. Mommy,” she persists.

“You can sleep with her when she gets back. But tonight you get to have a sleepover with Steve. Or you can even sleep with me in Nancy’s bed, okay?”

Red-rimmed eyes flick between you and Steve. Neither option is as good as Mom.

“Both,” Holly whines.

“Wanna lay with both of us?”

She nods. “In the middle.”

“Okay,” you turn to Steve. “We can do that.” Your words are colored like a question but he’s already nodding his answer.

He shovels Holly from your lap, cheek pressing into hers in an unspoken exchange of relief. “Alright, munchkin. Let’s go steal Nancy’s big bed. Sound good?”

She hums her approval into his ear.

Steve pokes Nancy’s door open with his foot, swinging around to the tucked side of the bed. You crawl across your end as Holly slides off his chest. She molds herself against your shoulder, tugging Steve closer when he settles.

“Goodnight, Hollybear,” he says.

She steals your hand from underneath the comforter, then his where it lies on the sheet. Your knuckles brush Steve’s where they are stapled to her chest. “Goodnight,” she sighs.

Steve strokes up and down the back of her hand, his touch a quiet catalyst. She’s asleep in mere minutes, snoring softly, fingers limp against yours.

Steve nudges your hand where it’s already pressed to his, whispering when you turn, “Am I crazy that I find all of this kinda fun?”

You shake your head, a smile working its way across your lips. “Guess that would make me crazy too.”

“I know I always complain about driving those little shits around but Holly’s actually really fun to babysit.”

“Yeah, she is. At least it’s not the end of the world this time, right?”

“Yeah, that probably helps, huh?” Amusement ebbs into a sigh. “I’m kinda dreading going home, to be honest.”

“Why don’t we put Mike in a wig? Kidnap Holly for ourselves.”

He snorts into his pillow. “Oh, yeah. That’ll work. ‘Yeah, I dunno Mrs. Wheeler, she had a crazy growth spurt while you were gone.’”

“We’d take good care of her.”

“We would,” he nods. “You’re really good with her.”

“So are you. Kinda surprised me actually.”

“Really? Cause Dustin tells me weekly I’d make a good mother.”

“Yeah, but they’re different. Older. And don’t get me wrong, you’re great with them and they love hanging out with you. Holly’s just little. You’re so much gentler with her, and like, you always seem to know what to do.”

“For the record, I have no clue what I’m doing.”

“Me neither. I don't know what Mrs. Wheeler was thinking asking us to do this.”

Intertwined laughter fades, but something else— something similar— lingers. An almost tangible buzz of energy, as if the silence itself is alive with unspoken words. You entertain the idea that the feeling’s not exclusive to just you. That Steve hears the same jitter in his pulse and feels the same flutter against his ribs. That you aren’t alone to be feeling such a way.

“Is it–”

“Are we–”

“Sorry, you go,” he jabbers out.

The words trickle back down your throat, too thick to cross your tongue again. “You can probably go now,” you decide.

His gaze jumps to Holly’s chest where his hand is still coupled with one of hers.

“If you want,” you amend. “You don’t have to.”

“You don't mind? If I stayed?”

You shake your head.

“Just worried she’ll wake up if I move.”

You try to flatten your excitement as you reply, “You can stay.”

His gaze swims with yours across Nancy's room, skimming over the cluttered dresser, the desk strewn with books and pens, to the shuttered closet doors.

“Sorry about– you know– I heard Nancy… dumped you,” you say, immediately regretting the awkward phrasing.

“Harsh,” he squints and casts you a bittersweet grin. “But true.”

“Is it… weird? To be in here?”

“A little. But not as much as I thought it would be. Hell of a lot better than Mike’s room.”

You hum, watching the gentle shift in his brows.

“Is it weird for you?”

“Me?” you ask. “In what way?”

“You and Nance. You don’t always see eye to eye.”

“I mean, yeah. When our decisions involve risking our lives– or the kids– she’s pretty damn impulsive. And she can be real stubborn and selfish sometimes too. But I dunno, I still love her. She’s been sort of like a sister since everything started. I think that’s why we argue.”

“What does that make me? Your brother?”

You roll your eyes. “No, you’re the stray dog we adopted.”

“Okay. That’s just mean.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Your laugh laps out louder than you intend, but Holly remains still. “I dunno who you’d be. The love interest?”

“I can work with that, sexy love interest–”

You scoff. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Harrington.”

“Okay, okay. But love interest because…”

“Cause you dated Nance.”

“Oh,” he exhales.

“You don’t agree? Should we go back to stray dog?”

“Oh, shut up. I’m going to bed.” Steve rolls onto his side with a sigh.

“Keep your snoring to a minimum, please.”

He grumbles, narrowing his eyes at your smirk. “I don’t snore.”

“You do. I could hear it from here last night.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did,” you argue. “It definitely wasn’t Holly.”

“Whatever. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Only when your eyes are closed does his smile finally emerge. It’s silly how quickly you can pull it out of him. It throws him for a loop every time. But with you at his side, maybe he’ll dream of happier things for once. Either way, it’s easier to fall asleep, just knowing you’re there falling asleep too.

ᯓ★

“Shhhh!”

“No, you shhhh,” a lighter voice giggles.

“Holly,” Steve scolds, mirth buttering his tone. You know he’s smiling by the sound alone.

Holly’s laughter triples in volume but then is abruptly muffled.

“Ew– did you just lick me?”

And this all just sounds way too cute to miss out on. You pry your lashes apart, still sticky with sleep, and flip on your side to face them.

They freeze, eyes widening adorably in sync. Steve is reclined against the headboard, an arm bent behind his neck. Holly is sprawled halfway across his tummy, toes tickling your side.

“Sorry,” he offers like you’d be mad. But how could you possibly be anything but enamored waking up to their giggly little voices? If you could be woken up like this every day, you would.

You shake your head, scratching underneath your eyes. The walls are bathed in muted colors, waiting to be warmed by the sunrise. It’s still early.

Holly rolls off of Steve onto the floor and barrels out of the room.

“Where are you going?” he shouts.

“Potty!”

Steve turns to you, eyes roving across your bedhead for an embarrassingly long amount of time. “Good morning.”

“Morning.”

“Did she kick you last night?”

You rake your fingers through your hair, quickly moving them to your lips to stifle a yawn. “Not that I remember.”

“Oh, you’d remember. Trust me. She was on top of me the whole night.” He’s smiling like an idiot. He couldn’t sound annoyed about it if he tried.

“Aww, she loves you,” you coo.

“Yeah,” he agrees, pink dusting his cheeks, “I can’t wait to do this.”

“Hmm?”

“Settle down. Have a family. I wasn’t, like, a hundred percent sure before, but I am now.”

“You’ll be a good dad.”

He beams at you like he’s just won the lottery. “You think?”

“For sure.” And he really would. You’re sure of it after last night.

He opens his mouth to speak but your stomach cuts him off with an obnoxious growl. “Hungry?” Steve chuckles.

“Shut up.” You swipe your pillow and smack him.

He smacks you back, pulling it to his chest before you can steal it. “Wanna go out for breakfast?”

Your brain short circuits. You forget you’re babysitting and not just laying in bed with Steve Harrington for fun. He is not asking you on a date like your heart assumes.

“Oh, yeah. Sure. For sure,” you sputter out, heat licking up the back of your neck.

“I’ll go see what she wants,” he slides onto the floor and shakes his legs awake.

Steve’s tall, even sluggishly slumped over. But even more so as he stretches– arms rising with his shirt, revealing a fraction of golden skin above his waistband. A long, lazy moan climbs out of his chest.

You push the comforter off before you burst into flames.

Holly determines she wants IHOP because they put chocolate chips and sprinkles on the pancakes. Steve supplies her with an outfit and wrestles her hair into pigtails with bows to match her skirt. It’s surprisingly coordinated and admittedly cute, but maybe you’re wrong to be so surprised– he knows his way around a comb and a closet.

“Can I get pancakes?” she asks Steve, perched on the bottom step of the stairs.

He’s cross-legged on the floor, hunched over to lace her sneakers. “I already told you yes, silly goose.”

“Can I get extra sprinkles?”

“Uhh, does your mom let you?”

She thinks about it before answering. “Yes, I think so.”

“Sure, then.” He grins, clapping her tied shoes together before standing.

You shoulder Holly’s bag, stuffed with books and toys and a jacket in case it rains, courtesy of Steve who insisted she might need it. “Ready?” you ask him.

Steve races Holly to the car while you lock up. Mrs. Wheeler installed Holly’s car seat in Steve’s beamer before she left but you’ve yet to use it.

“It’s too tight,” Holly whines from the car, loud enough to hear from the top of the driveway.

“I know, ‘m working on it,” Steve assures, working his fingers under the straps. “Just gotta figure it out.”

“Hurry!”

“I’m hurrying, Holl. Give me a sec’.”

You open the passenger door and peek around the headrest to view her. The belts are buckled but not tight enough to spark concern. “He’s going as fast as he can, Holly. Be patient.”

She squirms under his hands, exhaling sharply. And like her, Steve’s frustration mounts, jaw tightening, brow furrowing. His fingers keep slipping and he’s not totally sure which button or strap is for loosening.

You swing around to Holly’s door and cup Steve’s shoulder. “Let me try.”

He knocks his head on the roof as he pulls out.

You wince, “Okay?”

He softens as you reach for his neck, though your fingers never land. Still, the tender look you offer is enough to cure any bumps or bruises he might’ve gotten.

It’s an unfortunate amount of trial and error before Holly is fastened in properly. Steve cranks the AC on full blast when you finally settle into your seats and circles through radio stations after he backs out. He finds the kid’s station, playing a Muppet’s song that Steve apparently knows every word to. He sings unapologetically loud, a stupid grin sewn to his face.

When you arrive, Holly happily holds your hand through the parking lot, still clutching tightly as you wait to be seated. She climbs onto your lap to make room on the waiting bench for a woman looking ready to pop out a baby any minute. Steve stands at your other side, arm braced behind your neck.

“How old is she?” the woman asks you fondly.

“She’s five,” you return her smile, bouncing your knee. “Right, Holly?”

Holly twists to hide in your neck, nodding.

“She’s very cute,” she says with such love you already believe her baby is in good hands. “Your sister?” Her eyes flick from yours to Steve who is mostly oblivious to the conversation.

“No, just babysitting.”

“Oh, well, you’ll make good parents one day.”

The comment renders you speechless. It’s not that you hadn’t considered children before, but you hadn’t pictured them with Steve. With his smile, his eyes, his nose. It’s that this woman who doesn’t even know you imagined it before you had. You blink at her stupidly through a forced smile.

Steve squeezes your shoulder, ripping you from your thoughts. “You okay? Table’s ready.”

You get seated in a booth overlooking the parking lot.

Holly bends across Steve’s lap to point through the window. “I see our car!”

“Yeah, that’s her.”

Holly’s face contorts with confusion. “Her? Your car’s a girl?”

“Yep–”

The waitress swings over with a handful of menus and a hasty introduction. Steve already knows what he wants and he places Holly’s order after his, making sure to clarify the extra sprinkles when she calls his name repeatedly to remind him. As soon as you decide, the waitress bustles off with the pair of menus to another table.

Holly slides her paper menu closer, examining each activity.

Steve picks open the box of crayons, revealing a stingy three– red, green, and blue. “You know, for a multi-million dollar company, you’d think they could afford more than three crayons.”

“And more staff,” you add, eyes tailing another waitress zipping from one table to another.

Holly points at herself, Steve, and then you, counting, “One, two three. Three crayons for three people.”

“Yeah, good point,” Steve pats her thigh. “Always the optimist.”

“Op-ta-nist?”

“Op-ta-mist,” he clarifies.

She snags the green crayon and presses it to the paper. “What’s that?”

Steve opens and closes his mouth. “Well, it’s like– it’s when you– you’re happy a lot. Grass is always greener on the other side, you know?”

Steve lost her at the metaphor but she’s too focused on staying inside the lines to care about the definition of optimist anymore.

“You got there eventually. Sort of,” you tease.

His foot stabs your ankle under the table. “Shut up.”

Steve lets Holly win every single round of tic-tac-toe while showering her with praise, convincing her she's a tactical mastermind. You can’t quite tell if she’s onto him, but she’s too busy grinning to say otherwise.

The waitress plants your and Steve’s plates on the table first, reaching behind to scoop Holly’s off her tray next. “And, chocolate chip pancakes with extra sprinkles for the little one.”

“Thank you,” you manage to say before she leaves to tend to another table flagging her down. “Holly, want syrup?”

“Yes, please.”

You pour a spiral of maple syrup over Holly’s pancakes. The amount of sugar on her plate might qualify it more as candy than breakfast. And she’s ogling the food like it’ll grow legs and run away.

“Steve, will you cut them up for her?”

He nods, swallowing a mouthful of scrambled eggs and trading his fork for a knife. As soon as he slides her meal back over, Holly ravages the pancakes, spooning another bite in her mouth before she’s swallowed the last.

The waitress whisks by with drink refills, joy driving her to a smile at the sight of Holly and her half-empty plate.

“I swear we feed her at home,” Steve chuckles through his own joke. What a dad thing to say. “Can we get some more napkins?”

And it’s like he knows what’s going to happen. Holly stretches across the table for the syrup bottle, drawing back with an open-mouthed grimace.

“Uh-oh.” She presses her chin to her chest. There’s a patch of syrup turning the hem of her pink shirt brown.

“What?” Steve throws a pigtail behind her shoulder so he can see. “Oh. It’s okay.”

“It was an accident,” Holly explains.

“I know. It’s okay.”

“It’s sticky.”

“It’ll wash off.” Steve dunks a clean napkin in his cup of water and dabs it across the stain.

“It’s too cold,” she complains, pinching the fabric away from her skin.

“Sorry. It’ll dry. Have to get the syrup out, though.”

You deliver another wad of napkins to Steve’s hand. He pushes them against her belly, soaking up any excess water. His patience never frays.

Holly looks up, worry etched into her voice, “Will it stain?”

“I dunno,” you supply truthfully. “We’ll throw it in the wash when we get home.”

Steve pays the bill with the cash the Wheelers left and scrapes his wallet for change, stacking two quarters on the table when he finds them. “Since you’ve been such a good listener. There’s a sticker machine up front,” he tells Holly.

Steve might as well have slapped a ticket to Disney World on the table. Holly literally jumps for joy, right out of her seat. She buys a random Lisa Frank sticker and pockets the second coin for her piggy bank.

It’s Steve’s idea to go to the playground afterward. The park is teeming with life, the kind of chaos that only a weekend morning can bring. Swings creak under the weight of eager kids, and the monkey bars have their own traffic jam. Parents wrap the playground like a barricade, their chatter drowned out by laughter and shouts. But the heat presses down ruthlessly, making every step feel like you’re wading through a sauna.

Holly tears away from Steve’s hand as soon as her shoes hit the mulch, rejoicing in her newfound freedom with a little skip. She races up a set of stairs to wait for a turn on the tallest slide.

“Should’ve brought sunscreen,” Steve says, eyes following Holly down the slide. She flashes you both a prideful smile from the bottom.

“She’ll survive. We won’t stay long. It’s too hot.” You pull your shirt out to fan your chest, dabbing the sweat beading at your sternum.

“Careful!” he shouts as she hops from one platform to the next. She continues to bounce along the path, one wobbly leap at a time. A particularly long jump has Steve cringing. He’s trying really hard not to be overanxious and it’s as sweet as it is amusing.

He side-eyes your grin with an opposing frown. You don’t even have to say anything for him to know you’re teasing him. “What?”

You shrug, smile doubling. “You.”

“What about me?”

“You’re just funny.”

“My concern is funny to you?” he accuses.

“She’s fine, Steve.”

He makes a noise of disagreement, arms crossed and a hip popped out dramatically far. You see why Dustin teases him for being motherly.

Holly struggles with the monkey bars. She makes it halfway across before her arms start to shake and her hands slip. Steve lunges forward as he watches her plummet to the ground. But before he can swoop in, Holly pops up, dusts the dirt from her skirt with a nonchalant shrug, and marches on, completely unfazed.

“See. She’s fine,” you reassure.

“Whatever,” Steve grumbles, strolling away to sulk in private.

He makes a slow lap around the playground, hands planted firmly on his hips, casting a critical eye over the chaos. Meanwhile, you snag a spot on a bench, where most parents are engrossed in magazines or gossip, blissfully detached. You watch Steve get roped into playing a monster, though you can tell he secretly loves it.

It doesn’t take long for him to start stomping around, roaring and growling, chasing the kids as they shriek and scatter. And when they finally tire him out, he collapses beside you, his shirt clinging to his sweaty back, and his breath coming in ragged bursts.

“I told her five more minutes,” he says, stretching an arm across the back of the bench behind you. His curls shine honeycomb gold in the spray of sunlight and his skin echoes the warmth of desert sand, softened pink like the blush of sunset. He looks strikingly gorgeous sprawled out beside you.

Holly trots over not much later, alarmingly upset.

You sit up, urgently shaking Steve’s thigh to grab his attention. “What happened, honey?”

“I– I was,” she sucks in a staggered breath, “I was climbing the stairs and– and a boy, he pushed me.” Twin rivulets of tears are unleashed with a blink, converging at the curve of her chin.

You scan her from head to toe. Nothing looks broken or bloody. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she strains.

You drag her into your chest, pressing a loving cheek to her ear. “Did it scare you?”

She nods, hiccuping into your neck.

“I’m sorry, Holly. That wasn’t nice at all.”

Steve’s gaze shifts between Holly and the playground to search for guilty suspects. He finds none, thankfully, though he’s still itching to wring out whatever parent it is not watching their kid– which is unfortunately most of them.

“Let me see,” he coaxes Holly over for his own checkup. He picks a piece of mulch from her hair and flicks off another stamped into her calf. “Think you’ll make it? Should we call an ambulance?”

She doesn’t smile at his joke like you hope.

“Ready to go home?” you ask.

She sniffs into her sleeve. “Yeah.”

“Alright.” Steve hoists her up as he stands. Holly's long legs wrap around his waist, feet swaying against his thighs as he walks.

Holly naps on the way home, not by choice but by sheer exhaustion. She convinces herself she didn’t actually fall asleep when she wakes up in the driveway, swearing, “I just closed my eyes.”

But it’s quickly apparent that twenty minutes was not enough. She cries because her leftover pizza for lunch is cold in the middle and again when she rubs the sauce in her eye. You turn on a movie, hoping to induce another nap, but The Aristocats is just too good to sleep through. Thankfully, her grumpiness wanes into a more manageable pout, her arms uncrossing to snuggle closer to you on the couch.

When the movie ends, she slinks up, her departure leaving your lap cold. After a long-winded debate about what to do, you all finally agree on playing a board game. Steve steers Holly downstairs to pick one out and she returns with a rekindled excitement, dropping the game Twister at your feet.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with Twister, but you were expecting something easier. Candy Land or Chutes and Ladders. So you let Steve and Holly go first. The round ends in a heap of tangled limbs and giggles, a winner unclear. But Holly wins the match against you, admittedly fair and square. And it’s all fun and games until she insists you and Steve must compete.

“Ehh, Holly. My arms are tired,” you reason.

“But I wanna be the referee too,” she whines. “Pleaseee!”

Steve shrugs at you, a playful little curve to his lips. If you say no, that makes only you the bad guy. And you just can’t bring yourself to break Holly’s heart over something so simple.

“Okay,” you sigh, ignoring the nervous tick in your chest.

Holly pushes you by the hips onto the mat to stand opposite Steve. She gets situated on the floor and excitedly flicks the spinner, calling, “Left foot. Blue!”

You each step toward a blue dot. Easy.

“Right foot on green.”

Right foot, green. You’re shoulder to shoulder now, hips angled toward his.

“Right hand… yellow!”

“Here we go,” you mumble, bending down to reach yellow. “Okay.”

Steve chuckles and follows suit, free hand hovering awkwardly behind your shoulder.

You twist your head until you can’t, just to see the stupid look on his face. “You know, your long legs really give you an unfair advantage here.”

“Don’t be a sore loser,” he chides, hot breath fanning the back of your already hot neck.

“Don’t speak so soon, Harrington. You’re the one who’s gonna lose.”

“Right hand, red,” Holly announces.

You lean back toward red, headbutting Steve’s side so you don’t fall. He curls into position next, swaying until his back pocket is inches from your nose.

“Oh my God, Steve. Get your butt out of my face!” You’d shove him if you had an extra hand.

Holly giggles in that contagious way kids laugh, automatically pulling one from Steve.

“Don’t make me laugh. If I go down, so are you,” he reminds you.

“Umm, left foot green,” Holly says.

Steve groans dramatically, whining. “What! Holly, that’s impossible. Spin again.”

She cackles, reminiscent of Queen Holly. “Nope, you have to! That’s the rules!”

And somehow, you both make it to green without knocking each other over. But you’re getting distracted– Steve’s hand has brushed your calf three times now and his shirt is loose, hanging off his chest in a way that gives you a clear view of his tummy. This might as well be sabotage. You tear your eyes away. You must focus. You didn’t care much for winning before, but something about Steve brings out your competitive side.

“Right hand, green.”

You bow your knee until it’s wedged uncomfortably into your ribcage so you can reach the green. Your thighs quickly begin to ache. You won’t last much longer in this position. Especially not when Steve arches over you like a human bridge, the zipper of his jeans tickling your back where your shirt has scrunched up.

He shakes his hair out of the way so he can see you, albeit upside down. His smile stretches wide, radiating pure, unfiltered joy. He’s having the time of his life, and admittedly, so are you.

Your elbow juts out, nearly giving under the weight of his gaze alone. But you snap it back in place and practically beg Holly, “Spin.”

“Left foot blue!”

You and Steve lunge for the same blue circle. His sock slides against the tarp, leg extending much farther than he’s prepared for. His arm buckles, chest slamming down against your back. Your elbows give out immediately under the force of his weight, jaw slamming into the floor.

“Shit, sorry! You okay?”

A burst of laughter tumbles out of your mouth before you can answer. But maybe it’s an answer in itself. Your chin stings but you're fine. Better than fine, even.

As soon as Steve scrambles off of you, you flip onto your back. His eyes trickle down you in assessment, eyebrows knitting together, mouth twitching like it can’t decide whether to frown or smile.

“I’m okay,” you manage, smiley and breathless.

“Did you hit your face?”

“Just my chin.”

He reaches for your face with hesitant fingers. “Sorry.”

You shake your head, bolstering his wrist as he cups your chin. “I definitely won.”

And just like that, all his worry washes away. He pries your hand from his wrist, wrenching you up to sit. “Technically, you hit the floor first.”

You glance over to Holly for her professional referee’s opinion but find she’s no longer there. “Where’s–”

“I found it!” she yells from the upstairs. What exactly she found, you’ve no idea. But she comes stomping down the stairs not a minute later with a little box in her hands. Bandaids, you realize, as she dumps the contents on the twister mat beside you. “They’re Hello Kitty,” she says, stripping the paper backing off of one.

You let her little fingers stamp it to the curve of your chin. It’s not bleeding, nor does it really hurt that bad, but the gesture is sweet enough to melt your heart. “Thank you, Holly. You’re so gentle. You should be a candy striper.”

“I don’t think I’m old enough.”

“When you’re older then.”

Steve decides Twister is far too dangerous to keep playing, but Holly demands a game of Mouse Trap so it works out. Steve wins, despite you and Holly’s strategic alliance halfway through. And by then, she’s asked about dinner twice so you shelve the rest of the games and head up to the kitchen to decide together.

Holly hums into the freezer, “Chicken nuggets… pizza rolls– oh! Eggos, can we have Eggos?”

Steve bites the inside of his cheek, peering over her, “Why don’t we cook something? We could have a fancy dinner. Like a dinner party.”

“Can we dress up?”

“Sure,” he shrugs, flipping a pack of ground beef over.

“Pasta?” you call from the pantry.

“Ooh, yeah. Let’s do that.”

Holly sprints upstairs for a costume, much more interested in the party than the dinner. You pull a box of noodles and an unopened jar of sauce from the shelf while Steve grabs a pot from the cabinet and sticks it under the faucet.

“Careful. Stove’s on,” you announce, flicking the dial on high.

Steve backs up from the sink slowly, water sloshing over the side of the pot when he bumps the table.

“Steve,” you chuckle, pulling a dish towel from the oven handle, “It doesn’t need to be that full.”

“No?”

“No, dump like, half of that out.”

He nods, pouring some out and depositing the rest over the stove. “I’m gonna be honest, I’ve never made pasta before.”

“Yeah, I could’ve guessed,” you quip, elbowing his side with the box of noodles in hand. “Pour these in?”

He takes the box and gives it a good shake. “How much?”

“Maybe half? Little more?”

He tips it over the water, snapping it back up when much more than half slides out. “Oops.”

“It’s okay.” You chuck a few stray pieces from the counter into the pot. “Everyone’s getting seconds tonight. What do you like in your pasta?”

“Sauce?”

The laugh fizzles out in your throat as you realize he’s not making a joke. “Besides sauce. Cheese? Meat? Spices?”

“Oh, uhh, I’m not sure.” Steve scratches the back of his neck, hand retracting to fidget with the hem of his shirt. He’s antsy, clearly nervous. Maybe embarrassed of his cooking knowledge, or rather, lack of it. Or perhaps afraid the pasta will end up something like the first set of grilled cheeses.

“We’ll keep it simple then. Holly probably won’t like it too fancy anyway.”

Steve nervously watches the water bubble, foam climbing up the sides. “Do you like garlic bread? Saw some in the freezer.”

You fish the box out and line a pan with three pieces. And with bread in the oven and the pasta starting to boil, you hop on the counter to wait.

“How long does it take?” Steve asks.

“Not long.”

You open the drawer beside your legs and find a big wooden spoon. Lucky guess. “Here. Stir.”

His eyes follow the ladle, stirring with steady hands. It’s a peaceful quiet, his focus unusually soft. Not the urgent, fate of his life kind of determination you’re used to seeing.

When it’s ready, you pinch the spoon’s neck, fingertips sweeping his for the half a second before he lets go. “Now we strain the water. Then we can add the sauce.”

You find a strainer and plant it in the sink while Steve carries the pot over and pours. He sets it back on the stove, per your orders, and offers a hand when you struggle with the sauce lid.

He pins the jar against his chest, knuckles straining white in several attempts to twist the cap. But it pops off after a good shake, spraying sauce across your cheek, and spinning to the floor like a frisbee.

Steve freezes, gawking at your face with a stupid smile.

“Steve!” You scoop up a dish towel and smack his arm.

He throws his hands up and turns a shoulder to you. “I didn’t mean to,” he snickers.

“Don’t laugh! I’ll pour that whole jar over your head.”

He doesn’t buy your threat one bit, still laughing as he sets the jar down and steals the towel from your hands. “I’ll get it. Sit still.”

You summon the most menacing glare you can manage while suppressing a smile. He presses the towel to your cheek, thumb gliding across your skin as he wipes the sauce in one languid motion. His eyes flick down to your lips and you’re positive you aren’t imagining it.

But you’re sweating and your stomach is churning and– “The pasta!” You ram into Steve’s shoulder trying to get by, rushing to turn the stove temperature down.

Steve whisks up behind you to see the food. “Is it burnt?”

“No, no. It should be fine.” You scrape the ladle under the bottom layer of noodles. “Pass me the sauce?”

You avoid his eyes as you take it. Was he going to kiss you? Maybe just thinking about it? Or perhaps there was just sauce near your mouth and you’re spiraling over absolutely nothing.

You toss the food in sauce and divide it into three plates silently.

“Holly! Food’s ready,” Steve shouts as he fixes the table with napkins and silverware.

She clambers down the steps in a tutu and a cardigan that you’re pretty sure is Nancy’s. Her smile drops. “Where are your clothes?”

Steve looks down at his sweats. “Holly, I think we’ll just–”

“Please, Stevie. It’s a dinner party, remember?”

His eyes dart to you, though you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “One sec.”

He swings back into the kitchen wearing a tweed suit jacket, a silky, black one draped over his arm. His is a few sizes too big, shoulder pads drooping down his biceps, and the sleeves swallowing his hands. He pushes the fabric up his elbows to hand you the other jacket. “For you.”

“Thanks,” you deadpan. It comes off less sarcastic than you aim for.

Holly and Steve adopt similar grins as you slip the jacket on. “You look dashing,” she compliments.

“Very,” Steve agrees, taking a seat beside you.

You spend the rest of dinner internally debating whether he’s flirting or just indulging in Holly’s playful antics. The uncertainty makes your stomach flip, and suddenly you aren’t so hungry anymore.

After the dinner party concludes, it’s Holly’s suggestion to go for a walk. She wheels her bike out of the garage, fitted with a set of training wheels and a handlebar bursting with tinsel. A yawn rolls off her tongue as she launches down the driveway. It raises your hopes for a smoother bedtime tonight.

Even as the horizon melts into the Earth, the summer heat clings like a heavy hand. Trees project long shadows along the road, eating what’s left of the sunlight. Bugs buzz and birds chirp, but a sleepy stillness is ubiquitous.

“What?” you ask suddenly, whipping your head to face Steve. He’s drenched in gold, pale wisps of hair riding the breeze as he strolls.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re staring at me. I feel it.”

“I wasn’t,” he assures.

You blink at him. You can’t decide whether to be annoyed at such an obvious lie or embarrassed by the truth.

He jogs ahead before you’ve come up with something to say. Halfway to Holly, he shouts, “Come on, slowpoke!”

It only takes one loop around the block for the heat to catch up. Holly complains incessantly about her helmet strap being too tight even after Steve fixes it and you’re itchy from sweat and mosquito bites. Steve’s, well, he might be the only content one. Happy even, guiding you home with a subtle bend to his lips and a soft glow tinting his cheeks.

Holly whines about having to take a bath, and while you might negotiate it another night, you can see the damp line down her back. But like you suspect, all grievances are forgotten the second she gets in. She likes playing in the bath, even if she forgets it. It’s where she keeps her mermaid Barbie and her collection of rubber ducks, coincidentally all named Bob.

And while bath time might tend to feel like more of a chore as a babysitter, tonight is different. It’s your last night at the Wheelers, and while that’s not new information, it is startlingly sad. You aren’t irritated when she splashes water in your eye or when she leaves a trail of it down the hall for you to clean. You can’t be, not when you know you’ll miss it.

Steve helps you tuck Holly into Nancy’s bed. After pinky swearing that you’ll both return at your own bedtime, she drifts off easily. You’re thankful, of course, but a piece of you secretly hoped to be needed longer.

“Must’ve been tired,” Steve whispers, pushing slowly off the bed. “You okay?”

You nod, tearing your eyes from Holly to meet Steve’s. “Kinda sad.” You shrug, murmuring, “Stupid.”

“It’s not.” He cups your shoulder and runs a warm hand up and down your arm. “Come on.”

You take his hand and let him lead you across the hall and down the stairs. He pulls you onto the couch so you land pressed into the same cushion he’s on. “Y’know, babysitting Holly’s a breeze compared to the usual shitheads. We don’t have to worry about her taking my car keys or fighting interdimensional monsters or summoning a gate to hell,” he says.

A soft laugh parts your lips. “Think Holly will put in a good word for us with her parents?”

“You kidding? She loves us. Especially me,” he jokes. “Hate to break it to you but I’m definitely her favorite.”

“No, you are not. Shut up.”

He catches your fist mid-punch, cradling your hand like it’s made of wet sand. His thumb crosses each divot between your fingers, stroking up and down your knuckle slowly. “I’m sure they’ll ask us to babysit her again at some point.”

You hum in agreement.

“Besides, we could expand our horizons. There’s like a million other children in Hawkins that need babysitting.”

Your smile spills into your cheeks. “We?”

“Yeah, I think we make a pretty damn good team. Don’t you?”

“I do, but… we don’t have to limit our interactions to just babysitting, you know?”

“What are you thinking? Dinner and a movie? Next weekend?” His eyes flick from your fingers to your face– to each eye, sweeping down the center of your nose, stopping right at your lips.

You turn away in an attempt to soothe your heart as it pounds up to your ears. “Smooth, Harrington.”

He reels you back in gently by the arm, confidence shining through his smile.“What? Did I read this wrong?” He knows he didn’t, he’s teasing you.

“No,” you mumble, “You didn’t.”

He leans in to whisper, “Can I kiss you then?”

You nod, pushing into the soft press of his lips with your own. He’s not hesitant, nor is he harsh. Steve knows how to kiss, that much is clear. He trades your hand for your cheek, gently tilting your face to the side as he pulls away.

Your eyes flutter open to a doting gaze. One that travels down the lines and slopes of your neck like they’re made of candy. Steve plants a second kiss on your lips, though fleeting in comparison to the first. But he plants several more to make up for it, working his way in a Z down your cheek, across your jaw, and back down your neck. They’re quick, ticklish little pecks of affection. A sweetness if you ever knew it.

“Steve,” you admonish, though giggles betray your tone. The hands that frame his face glide gently down to his throat, your thumbs meeting at his Adam's apple. “We’re babysitting.”

“I know,” he says, kissing your lips for a third time. “Just had to get a few extra in there. For all the times I thought about kissing you this weekend.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why?” He laughs, bubbly like you’ve surprised him. “It’s true. I thought about it all weekend.”

You don’t know why you ask– why you even thought of it at a time like this– but you question him, “What about Nance?”

“What about her?”

“You don’t…” you trail off, afraid to even speak the possibility into existence.

“We’re done. We have been. For a lot longer than I was willing to admit,” he admits honestly.

“Yeah, but do you–”

“I don’t. Still have feelings for her. Not like that, anyway.”

You meet his eyes, feeling a strange blend of emotions you can’t quite name.

“If you don’t believe me, you’ll just have to let me prove it to you,” he holds your gaze, warm with a sincerity that makes it hard to doubt him.

“I believe you.”

You let Steve kiss you several more times on that couch. He’s patient, deliberate, and more kind than you ever imagined he’d be. It’s hard to understand why Nancy would ever let someone like that go.

ᯓ★

On Monday morning, you blink awake first, the comforting weight of a hand that’s not yours across your hip and another, much lighter one, at your belly. You turn over slowly, finding Steve and Holly wrapped around each other like ivy on trellis. You don’t imagine many people look this pretty asleep. The comb of long lashes kissing the soft flush in his cheeks. The golden lather of sunrise in each wild swoop of hair. The way his lips part for a sigh cuter than you knew one could be.

He mumbles something unintelligible, sleep talk perhaps.

You whisper back anyway, “What?”

Steve sighs, smearing his cheek against the pillow. “Being a creeper.”

“Me?”

“Mhmm.” One eye slowly unbinds itself from sleep. Steve adores the tight-lipped smile on your face, broad with an infatuation he forgot could be aimed at him. His hand twitches at your side.

“You just look so pretty when you sleep,” you admit. Is it too soon to say such things?

His eye closes as he smiles, nosing into Holly’s hair, selfishly keeping it to himself. You reach across her body to find it, swiping a loving finger across his lips when you do.

You stay in bed for as long as Holly will allow– which is not very long after she wakes up– but you don’t mind. You watch fondly as Steve helps her brush her teeth and as she helps Steve toast and butter the Eggos. Like Steve, Holly’s a good kid. They’re both helpers at heart.

And you’re sure to remind Mrs. Wheeler of that when she rings the house to let you know they’re almost home. Holly’s excitement quickly dwindles into sadness the moment she realizes you won’t be staying. But she uses it to bargain one final game of hide and seek before you go.

“Come on.” Steve drags you by the wrist, bustling upstairs to the bathroom. He throws the shower curtain aside and jumps in, offering his hand to help you after. You sit scrunched together, knee to knee on the porcelain floor, giggling like children.

“Shhh,” you squeeze his kneecap. “You’re gonna get us found.”

He jostles your shoulder, mouth agape. “You’re the one who’s laughing!”

“No,” you insist, though the light in your eyes suggests otherwise. Curiosity sparks and the irrepressible urge to act on it wins. You lean in for a kiss, confirming that’s all it takes to shut Steve up.

He tastes like maple syrup, loving with his lips as much as his hands. He pulls back for breath and returns for another peck, pressing into the corner of your mouth where your smile keeps drawing higher and higher.

“Hard to kiss you when you're smiling.”

“Can’t help it,” you defend. “Never been so happy.”

He softens like warm icing, a sweet and gooey mess in your arms. But the shake of the front door closing stiffens him.

“Mommy!” you hear quickly after.

Steve scrambles up and over the lip of the tub, tugging you out with him. You follow him downstairs where Mrs. Wheeler swings Holly in her arms like she’s much smaller than she really is. Mr. Wheeler steers a suitcase silently through the entryway.

“Did you have so much fun?” she asks Holly, peppering kisses across her temple. “Ohh, I missed you!”

Holly revels in the affection overload, bending backward to giggle at you and Steve.

Mrs. Wheeler grins. “How was she?”

“Great, as always,” Steve assures. His cheeks are flushed, his hair mussed— though you could chalk that up to bedhead, not the aftermath of your short-lived makeout session.

You nod, adding, “We went swimming and to the park and–”

“IHOP!” Holly yells. “I got pancakes with chocolate chips and extra sprinkles!”

“Did you? Sounds like you had a lot of fun.” Mrs. Wheeler plants Holly on her feet. “Can you give hugs? Say thank you for being such good babysitters?”

Holly launches herself at Steve. He sends you a smirk over her shoulder, rocking her side to side in his embrace. You can just hear him say, I told you so.

But she offers the same enthusiasm and more for you, dragging you onto the floor for a proper goodbye hug. “I don’t want you to go,” she pouts in your ear.

“We’ll come back. We can have playdates?”

“Can’t you just live in Nancy’s room? She’s never here anyway.”

You can’t help but laugh. “I wish I could,” you admit honestly.

She reluctantly loosens her grip on your shirt when you peel away.

Mrs. Wheeler sees you and Steve off with a warm smile. Holly darts through her mother’s legs for one final hug on the porch. You wave goodbye, the moment slipping into something bittersweet before Steve bumps his shoulder into yours, a playful grin softening the farewell.

You dawdle up to your car, wringing your hands together when you reach the door. “So.”

“So,” he parrots.

“This weekend, right?”

His smirk blooms into a full smile. “Friday? Pick you up at seven?”

“Okay,” you nod.

“Okay,” he chuckles, clipping a hand around your jaw and leaning in.

You turn away so the kiss skips across the softest stretch of your cheek. “Steve.”

His eyes never leave your face as he assures you, “They’re not looking.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

Holly waves at you through the living room window, a smile as wide as her face. Steve’s hand falls down to his side and he takes a platonic step back. You both return her goodbye, but Holly stays, her little hand pressed to the glass.

“Think she’ll tell?” Steve asks, not an ounce of worry in his tone.

You shrug, tugging him back in by the waist for a proper kiss. “I guess it wouldn't be the end of the world.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #holly wheeler #stranger things fic #stranger things #skeltnwrites #eotw

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ningvory · 4 months ago

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SCREAM - jang wonyoung

1,740 words // yall i wanted to do kinktober sooo baddd but im so outta ideas and school and work has been draining😔 so instead i'll just write 2-3 more halloween themed fics

CW: noncon -> dubcon, ghostface!wonyoung, big dick wony, bully!reader, a little knife play, choking, backshots, doggy, missionary, a little tit play, mentions of reader getting impregnated, squirting, not proofread lolz

its about 11pm on a friday, 'means girls' is playing on your living room tv while you were in the kitchen searching for a pot to put your noodles in. your parents left for their business trip to wherever, you weren't really paying attention after they mentioned you'll be alone for two weeks and that you had a spending allowance of 5k, which is why you were wearing your new black lingerie set under your fuzzy pink robe.

you were humming a song as you head to the pantry to get a bottle of water to fill the pot with until you heard your phone ringtone go off. you went to mute the tv and grabbed your phone, tapping the answer button. you held the phone up to your ear but you're met with silence.

"hello?~" you questioned, dragging out the word. it was a habit of yours when you were annoyed,

"didn't think you'd pick up." the voice was cheerful, too cheerful to the point where it had you furrow your eyebrows trying figure out who's calling you at this time.

"well, i did. so.." you responded with a little bit of attitude. you were starving and here this stranger is playing on your phone. "listen, who the hell are you and what do you want?" you raise your voice a octave.

"your tits look good in that bra, wish i can see the way your ass looks in the panties." you furrow your eyebrows once more. every window was locked and your curtains blocked any prying eyes from seeing inside.

"um—you must've gotten the wrong number or something. i'm hanging up now." you smile half heartedly, trying to wrap things up, whoever this girl is can probably hear your labored breathing.

"hang up this fuckin' phone and i’m killing you myself!" she quickly responded, you froze immediately. especially after hearing some sort of bang coming from upstairs, “not so tought without your friends here, hm y/n?"

you were assuming this was a silly halloween prank call but she knows you personally! she knows your friends and even your name—you can admit that you were a bitch to most people but you didn't think that someone would break in and kill you for it!

"w-what kinda joke is this? this isn’t funny!" you let out a nervous laugh. no way this is fucking real, this is just a prank, right?

the person lets out a hysterical laugh—almost like she’s gone crazy. "you think this is a joke? was it a joke when you make every single day a living hell for me?" she asked but you remained silent, "now you wanna act like a scared little girl? don't you think its time to get what you deserve?" she asks.

the amount of people you’ve been a bitch too, its hard to guess who this person was. the fact that this persons voice was low and raspy to the point where you couldn’t even identify who’s voice this is didn’t help you either.

"i think we should play a game. i’d advice you listen, if you want to live that is." you can hear her smiling through the phone.

your heart is racing now, you have a gut feeling that this person is in the big ass house somewhere and that promise of her killing you is haunting you.

"fine. what's this game?" you try to put on that tough façade, still holding onto your pride.

"go upstairs. into your room." she commands you and you hate it but all you can do now is obey her words.

you grip your phone tighter and walk up the stairs—just like she said. you walk into your room. your pink led illuminated the room.

"good girl~ now, strip." her praise breaks the silence.

"what?" you whispered in disbelief.

"you heard me, don't make me do it for you."

you sigh, you really aren't sure why she wants you to strip for her. maybe to humiliate you on the internet on something but you comply to her demand, untying your robe and letting it drop to the floor. you stand, praying that’s all she meant when she said strip.

"do you not know what strip mean, bitch?" she questions, noticing that you're just standing there.

you stay silent, tears were beginning to form in your eyes and you let out a whimper, “why? are you some kinda sick pervert?” you demand, looking around the room.

it was silent for a while, it was like she hung up the phone on you. your heart was racing, you were getting anxious, “hello! where are you!? who are you!?” you cry out.

as soon as you asked that your closet door opened, revealing a figure dressed up like ghostface charging right at you. you let out a loud scream, backing up into the wall but the figure used that to her advantage, her long hands engulfed your neck, pushing your head into the wall and tightening the grip, forcing a strangled whine to fall from your mouth as you gasp for air desperately.

tears began to fall from your cheeks, your hands came up to hold her wrists before hitting them, desperately trying to pry them off your neck. she swiftly slapped you right across your face and manhandled your frail body on your bed, choked whines coming from you in the process.

“you look so cute like this, crying and at my mercy.” her tall body straddled yours, under her coat and her skirt, you can feel her bulge on your tummy. no way she’s hard from this.

if you were gonna die like this you might as well see who this sicko is, you removed your hands from the hands that were on your neck and you reached up to the ghost mask, removing it from their head. your eyes widen when you realized who it was. wonyoung.

her soulless eyes looked down at yours, a smile slowly found its way onto her face which made shivers run down your spine. she removed her grip on your neck, but still remained ontop of you.

you inhaled air almost immediately, trying to catch your breath before you can question the girl. but before you could even speak, she held a butcher knife right under your chin, “don’t scream or move.” she spoke menacingly.

“since you can’t seem to follow orders i’ll force you to,” she sighs. she starts to slowly move her knife down to your shaking body. the metal causing goosebumps to awake on your body. she trailed down until she got to your bra, she easily sliced it in half with her knife. “hey! i just bought this!” you spat, your first time wearing this set and it’s already ruined? this really isn’t your night.

“shut up, whore.” she’s quick to bring the knife back to your neck, pressing down on it but not enough to draw blood.

your bottom lips quivers which makes her coo before she gets off your tummy and flips your body over. you yelp in surprise with how easy she’s moving your body.

before you can complain she’s pushing your head into the sheets and placing the palm of her hand to your back, forcing you to arch your ass up in the air. to position muffled anything that you might’ve said and you felt your heart drop when you feel her bulge prodding against your ass.

wonyoung slices your panties as well before placing the knife in her mask. she pulls her boxers down along with her miniskirt. she giggles as she hovers over you of you, large hands pinning yours to the bed before she leans into your ear with a wicked grin.

“i’m going to make you scream.”

“w-wait!” you quickly retort squirming under her iron grip.

she wastes no time before she pushes her cock deep inside your virgin cunt.

it was like the wind got knocked out of you. you can't even make a sound, all you can concentrate on is the burn on your hole being stretched out. she had just pushed in and her cock is already kissing at your cervix, just how big is this girls cock?

wonyoung harshly gripped your hips and pulled out until her cock head was the only length left inside you before violently thrusting forward, letting out a long groan at the satisfaction. her hands left your back to grab your wrists to hold them behind your back, and forcefully yanking you back down onto her cock. she wasn't letting you get out of this anytime soon.

she was using your body like you were her human sized sex doll. drool was running down your chin and down to the valley of your tits and your eyes were crossed over, "for someone that hasn't taken a real dick before--you take it like a cock drunk whore." wonyoung muttered loud enough for you to hear. if you hadn't been too busy cryin' n moanin' on her dick, you would've made a snarky comeback.

she's never heard your voice become this high-pitched but she wasn't complaining, "s-so big! y-you're gonna break me!!" you whined through your tears.

"and you're gonna keep taking it all in your little cunt. even after i impregnate you." wonyoung quickly agreed to your statement, shooting three spurts of cum into your cunt.

you thought she'd be done but her hips never stopped smacking into yours, instead, she flipped you over into missionary. she swiftly picked up your left leg, placing it on her shoulder to reach a deep angle.

she continued to drill into your cum-stuffed pussy, her cock heavily throbbing inside you due to just seeing the lewd sight below her, "like being fucked by a killer, gonna cum all over me?"

"uh-huhh~" your eyes rolled back and your body began to shake. she took one of you tits that's bouncing with her thrust into your mouth, earning a loud moan from you. you suddenly felt a little funny, almost like you had to pee? your body soon went limp before you let out a whiny moan, squirting all over her dick and pelvis.

"at first i was just gonna fuck you and then kill her." she pulls out of your sloppy pussy and grabbed her knife. you flinch at these words, a bit terrified of what was gonna happen next, "but i think i'll make you my cute cock sleeve."

#♡.wonyoung #♡.ive #ive x fem reader #ive wonyoung smut #wlw smut #jang wonyoung smut #wonyoung smut #ive smut #kpop smut #g!p

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minranghae · 5 months ago

Text

Taste | 18+

》 pairing: c.san x f!reader

》 genre: fluff, smut, angst if you squint really hard

》 warnings: friend’s brother!san, female reader, general silliness, stubborn reader, san loves to tease, hes a sweetie too ofc, smut, piv, oral (f. receiving), fingering, pet names (angel, baby, etc.), coworkers, san bites reader one (1) time, barely proofread, unprotected, lmk if i missed any

》 wc: 5.2k

》 hello! i am back from the dead with my second fic and second installment in the senses series. i do apologize that this took so long, but i do plan on releasing more stuff soon-ish. i'm working on a longer series, so who knows what'll hapen lol. finally, i just want to say thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy this!

“God, I really can’t stand you, San! Stop following me, pervert!”

“Yeah, whatever, just get in so we can talk,” he yells to you with his arm hanging out the window of his car, an annoyed, yet amused smirk covering his face.

“No way!” You yell over your shoulder, too embarrassed to face him both physically and figuratively.

Really, how could you? Not after you found him with your diary in his hands, reading it like it was his favorite novel. At first, you tried to convince yourself that he didn’t see those pages, but the blush on his cheeks told you otherwise.

And that’s why you’re here: running away from San in the middle of the night.

“I’ll make you a milkshake,” San coos from the car, causing you to turn your head in interest, “You know you love ‘em,” he offers, as if you’re a dog and he’s holding a treat in front of your face.

And god damn it, it works.

“Fine, but I’m not talking to you until I get one,” you say, opening the car door and climbing in.

“You’re talking to me now,” he quips, earning a look from you that he thinks would’ve killed him if it had the ability.

“Alright, tough crowd,” he murmurs to himself with a dry laugh, hoping to earn a giggle- or at least a smile- from you, but to no avail.

The whole situation was so embarrassing. And degrading, and stupid, and embarrassing-

“Stop thinking so much,” he swats at your arm playfully, noticing the clear look of discomfort and sheer, unabashed embarrassment on your face, “you don’t even know what I have to say yet.”

You answer him with a small hum, deciding against giving him a verbal response, because no matter how much you’d like to curl up in a hole and die, you’re still as stubborn as the day San met you.

You officially met him the first day you worked at the diner. Your best friend’s family had owned it since the old owners left, leaving the significantly smaller family of four looking for new employees. College debt had already begun sneaking its way into the back of your mind, and Eunbi needed to work with someone other than her nagging parents or annoying older brother. It was the perfect opportunity for you.

“C’mon! Just try it!” The boy working with you begged.

“I already told you, I have trauma with milkshakes!”

San laughed to himself, trying to hide the amusement evident on his face.

“Look, I’m sorry you found a hair in your milkshake however long ago, but I can assure you that my milkshake is hairless,” he held his little finger up to you, “pinky promise.”

Rolling your eyes, you locked your pinky with his. Your hands lingered together for a moment too long, until San pulled his away to push the drink closer to you.

“San, you know, I’m not really a huge fan of chocolate-”

“Didn’t you and Eunbi make chocolate cupcakes for your birthday though?”

You freeze, cheeks heating up at his question, unsure if it was the fact that he’d caught you in a lie or that he knew and remembered what you and Eunbi had done for your birthday bringing the blush to your face. Attempting to hide your embarrassment, you shot him a small smirk, gently pursing your lips.

“‘Gotcha there, honey.”

Ever since that day, San always had a milkshake waiting for you at the end of each shift. And maybe it was that kindness that made you blush, or maybe it was the fact that his eyes smiled along with his lips every time he greeted you. It could’ve been the way he always knew how to make you giggle, but whatever it was, it was clear that you’d fallen for San.

Which is weird. Weird because he’s older than you, he’s your coworker, he’s out of your league, and worst of all: he’s Eunbi’s brother.

Really? How cliche is that? It’s not even like you could tell Eunbi about it. That would’ve made everything so much worse. It’s embarrassing enough to be so head over heels for a guy who just sees you as his little sister’s best friend, but to have people know about it too? There’d be no coming back from that.

And that’s exactly why you decided to start keeping a diary, or mindful journaling as you called it. That sounded better than keeping a diary.

You originally started it to confess some of your feelings about San. You wrote how embarrassed you were to have a crush on him. You wrote about the milkshakes he made you and the times he defended you against angry customers. You wrote about how stressed you felt about life in general. Your worries, your fears, the moments of your days that you wanted to forget, but your mind wouldn’t let you. You wrote about anything you couldn’t confess to another person.

On particularly late nights full of hopeless pining and horny desperation, you’d write about your fantasies, some involving random celebrities or TV characters, but most involving San.

It was nothing too in depth, it was more about how much you wanted just a taste of him. You knew you could never have him for good, but if you could just feel his strong arms around you or his lips on your skin just once, maybe that’d be good enough. Just a little taste. It felt dirty thinking about him in that sort of way, but who would see it anyways?

Little did you know, San himself would.

It had slipped out of your bag. And being the kind, and relatively organized coworker he is, San picked it up to put it back in your bag for you. The way it landed on the floor, though, left it open on its spine with its pages just begging to be read.

He wasn’t going to read it. That would be an invasion of privacy, and San wasn’t that kind of guy. He wouldn’t do that.

But when he picked it up, he couldn’t help but notice his name on the page. And unfortunately, as it does most of us, curiosity got the best of him.

San tried to stop himself, he really did. But, knowing just how eager you were for him put his head in a spin. He just couldn't help but picture you underneath him, with that adorable blush and shy smile that only appears when he starts teasing you. He wanted so badly to hear how you whimper, to feel how warm you are, to see how sweet you taste. He had a feeling you liked him, but he never would've guessed you reciprocated the feeling so strongly.

He saw this as more of an opportunity for you two. He wasn’t going to tell you what he’d seen; he’d just confess to you one night. And maybe it’d have to be secret for a bit, but eventually you could be his, and he wanted nothing more than that.

No big deal.

But, as soon as he heard a small gasp from the doorway and looked up to see your eyes welling with tears, he knew that plan was well fucked.

San always thought you were pretty. From the moment Eunbi first brought you over, he couldn’t help but notice your expressive eyes and beautiful hair. But what he liked most was that shining smile you had. And seeing that he’d wiped it from your face as soon as you walked in, he just had to chase you.

And so, as you sat across from him in a booth in the dimly lit diner, he studied your face: the embarrassed blush and sweaty gleam sheening your forehead, your pouty lips wrapped around the straw of a chocolate milkshake as your eyebrows furrowed.

Even your beauty was stubborn.

He began softly, so as not to scare you, his fingers drumming against the table in a gentle rhythm, “So… do you like the milkshake?”

You looked up at him, an eyebrow quirked, “Yeah, it’s good.”

San pushed out a sigh at your icy reply, settling back in his seat as he let his palm fall flat against the table. He knew what he wanted to say, he just couldn’t find the words. You broke the silence a moment later.

“Look, we can both pretend like you saw absolutely nothing at all and I’ll ask to work different times of the day so we won’t even have to see each other. I’m not weird, I promise, I just-”

“Shh,” he cooed, grabbing one of your hands, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back of it, “you didn’t even let me talk yet.”

San’s gaze scanned your pretty face for a moment, falling onto those eyes and lips he adored. His heart pounded against the back of his ribs, and yet, you seemed so nervous. Had he read it wrong?

“Did you mean it? What you wrote?” he asked, his voice holding a subtle tone of insecurity. His gaze fell to the table where your hands met, his grip tightening just slightly.

You looked up at him, your wide eyes sweeping over his strong face and your breath picking up. Of course you meant it, but did he want you to mean it?

“Why are you asking that?” you mumble, pulling your hand from his shyly. Your entire face was tinged pink from embarrassment and guilt, so anxious. San couldn’t stand it.

He made an effort to grab your hand again, his other hand lifting your chin gently so you’d look at him. He shook your head a little, trying to bring out a tiny smile again.

“You said you needed my face between your thighs…”

Your body went rigid. Out of all the entries, he just had to read that one? You remember writing it after watching him open something with his teeth one day, his jaw flexing as he used his teeth to rip open the plastic packet. Unfortunately, your mind was clouded by unsavory thoughts later that night, and so, into the journal those fantasies went.

“I’m just saying, I’ve needed a taste for a while now, too. Just give me a chance. Don’t run, please,” he pleaded softly, his grip tightening on your hand ever so slightly. He gave you that look, the one where his eyebrows would furrow so gently and his eyes gleamed softly, a desperation hidden in them. San wasn’t one to beg, but he couldn’t let you think he didn’t like you.

To his surprise, the confession didn’t make you smile. Instead, you felt your eyes well up with tears and a heavy weight lift off your shoulders. Slowly, you snaked around the table to San’s side of the booth, immediately wrapping your arms around one of his as you cried into his shoulder. He received you warmly, his free hand coming up to pat your head softly with sweet coos leaving his mouth, calming and affectionate.

“I thought you were gonna hate me forever, Sannie. I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, hiccuping softly, no even noticing your snot blotting San’s shirt. Such a mess.

San let out a breathy laugh, guiding your face up and off of his shoulder. He grabbed a napkin from the holder at the end of the table and wiped your nose with it gently, an affectionate air about him. He’d never seen you so emotional, and though his heart constricted seeing your tears, he was just happy to be the one taking care of you: his precious one. In a way, seeing you so worked up over something he saw as no big deal was endearing. Then again, almost everything about you was endearing to San.

He smiled down at you after wiping your nose, mumbling, “Pretty girl.” You could feel your cheeks go red instantly, feeling like it was your first time having a crush all over again.

He continued, his deep voice soft and sweet suddenly, “I could never hate you. Never, never,” he shook his head a bit, leaning in so that your foreheads were pressed together, “what I read only surprised me, but it would never make me hate you. So, don’t apologize for liking me. I like you, too.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat as he said that. In fact, it seemed like cardiac arrest would be the next step if he didn’t stop looking at you with those soft eyes.

“Never knew you had such a dirty mind,” he teased, rubbing your arm with his free hand gently.

And just like that, your eyebrows furrowed again and you hit his arm gently, too embarrassed to be sappy for long.

“Stop that! It’s not good to hold in all your thoughts, you know. You should write your feelings down,” you scolded, face bright red and lips pouting. San took the scolding at first, but it wasn’t much use. He was too focused on how cute your face looked all scrunched up.

And, he couldn’t deny it. Being scolded was pretty hot.

“There you go again,” San interrupted, sighing playfully. He couldn’t help but tease. You stopped mid-sentence, unsure of what you were even scolding him about now.

“Hm? What?” you asked softly, a little pout remaining on your lips.

San giggled a little, his eyes squeezing shut as he threw his head back. It was just too much fun for him. He leaned in closer to your face, close enough that your noses nearly met in the middle, whispering, “You’re too busy being angry to let me give you a taste of me.”

That cocky bastard. Cocky, and teasing, and sexy…

Your eyebrows quirked up and your cheeks burned even hotter as he leaned in closer, his mouth just next to your ear.

“That’s what you wanted, right? What you wrote in your diary… ahem, journal,” he whispered, need dripping from his words.

And yet, you were too embarrassed to speak. Or, maybe flustered was the right word. Either way, your brain didn’t quite work when San teased you normally, and especially not when his hands traveled to your waist, thumbs pressing into you gently.

“W-well, yes, but it was just a fantasy! I was just imagining! If you read more, you’d see I wrote about celebrities also…” you stammered, your hands searching for a place to rest along with your eyes.

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not special?” San asked, biting his lip to hold back a cocky smile.

You gasped a little, hands instinctively finding San’s firm chest, “No, no! I just meant, just,” you panicked a bit, somehow losing your words yet again as San put his hands over yours.

“So, I am special? Am I special enough to have a taste of you?” San asked softly, still teasing, though there was an undercurrent of seriousness in his voice, something like an invitation.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea, Sannie… What would Eunbi think?” You ask softly, eyes round and full of worry. Unintentionally, you leaned further into San’s chest, prompting him to pull you into a hug. He cradled the back of your head, petting your hair softly.

“She doesn’t have to know yet. And you can always say no, baby. I know I tease you a lot, but it’s just because you’re so cute when you’re worked up. We can take things slow if you want. It’s just that journal entry… it made me…” San trailed off towards the end, his own cheeks getting pink now.

Softly, you reached up and ran your fingers through San’s hair, finally offering him a big smile, “Look at you blushing now.”

San blew a bit of air out of his nose, suppressing a shy laugh. “How couldn’t I blush? The thought of you wanting me that way…” He trailed off again, voice high and squeaky now that he was being teased. He pulled you close and buried his face in your neck, letting his lips place a soft kiss before he continued.

“I want to hear you say it, angel. Tell me I’m special and it’s more than just a fantasy. Tell me how you want me,” he mumbled into your neck, using every ounce of self restraint to stop himself from kissing it again.

And, in that moment, months of yearning for, pining over, and wanting San in every way came back to you. Your heart ached a bit, and so did the space between your legs. Everything you had imagined and told yourself was just a dream was coming true. It was true that it would be difficult to hide this whole thing considering Eunbi could read you like a book, but you couldn’t let this opportunity go.

“God, San, I want you in every way possible,” you breathed out, tilting your head back to give him better access to your neck. As soon as you did, he latched on to it, sucking a small bruise into it. You trembled a little, involuntarily letting a tiny whimper cross your lips as you whispered, “But I really need you to fuck me right now.”

“That’s all I need to hear, baby. Here,” he murmured, detaching himself from you quickly. He swiftly switched spots with you, leaving the booth seat and pulling you to the edge of it. He kneeled in front of you, one hand on your thigh and the other gripping the table still. Pushing the table towards the other side of the booth, San ran his hands up and down your thighs, eyes pleading and lust filled. “It’s alright if I taste you?”

“Please, need it so bad, Sannie,” you pleaded as he slowly undid your jeans, pulling them off your legs along with your panties in one fatal swoop. You were already dripping onto the seat and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

San pressed gentle kisses up your bare thighs, using a thumb to rub gentle circles into your clit. You gripped the top of the seat, already feeling a pulsing need in your heat as San’s mouth inched closer to it. His breath tickled the area, making your squirm, but what was worse was the look in his eyes. He stopped just in front of your cunt and looked up at you with dark, lustful eyes. In that moment, you understood San wanted this just as much as you did.

It was true. San couldn’t even recount the amount of times he pumped his fist in bed or in the shower thinking about you and your sweet pussy. And as much as it made him blush just thinking about it, he wanted nothing more in life than to bury his face in between your thighs some days, making you squirm and hearing what noises he could pull out of you. He wanted to have you, to know you on a deeper level. And what was more intimate than knowing the way a person tastes?

“Pretty,” he murmured into his direct line to heaven, his nose nudging your clit

gently. A long, hot stripe was licked up your pussy, making you twitch expectantly. Instantly, your mind began to grow foggy and your hips bucked, San whispering, “It’s alright, just relax, baby.”

And so, you did. You let your torso fall all the way back against the booth seat and your fingers tangle in his hair, a soft grunt leaving him as he dove in deeper. His tongue swirled around your entrance, dipping inside every once in a while as a quiet hum vibrated against you. He kept up his agonizingly slow pace on your clit with his thumb, savoring that way you tasted on his tongue.

Soon, though, San needed more of you. He needed to see you squirm more, hear you moan just for him. He pulled you even closer to the edge of the booth, another grunt leaving him as he had to pull his face away for a moment. He hoisted your legs up onto his broad shoulders, instantly attaching his lips to your clit, kissing it softly before sucking it.

A thick finger found its way inside of you, knuckle deep and wriggling. You squirmed, unable to hold back your noises. Even with just one finger, he filled you up better than you’d ever been before. He added a second finger a moment later, getting familiar with your body inside and out. Scissoring his fingers, he stretched your pussy out, mumbling something about how perfect it was.

“Fuck, San, even your fingers are big,” you slurred, back arching up in the air. San answered with another hum against your pussy, one you could tell was a shy giggle. He curled his fingers, letting his lips pulse around your clit now that he could tell you would finish soon. He slowed his pace down for a second, lifting his head to look up at you.

“You wanna cum? Want Sannie to make you cum?” He asked with a condescending pout, mirroring the one on your own lips. You nodded fervently, but it wasn’t enough for San.

“Gotta hear you say it, angel,” He furthered, eyes darkening as he held back another sly smile. You whined, kicking your legs gently. San tutted, swatting your thigh gently, “Don’t be so stubborn. Just tell Sannie.”

“Please, San, make me cum. Wanna cum all over your tongue,” you relented, hips bucking back up towards San’s face, nudging his chin against your clit. San cooed gently before diving back in. Lapping at your hole, he circled your clit relentlessly with his thumb. He wasn’t going to let you cum anywhere but his tongue.

It didn’t take long for you to do just what you’d asked for. Suddenly, your entire body began to tingle, radiating from the place between your thighs. Your toes curled and your knees tried to squeeze together, locking San’s head in place so that he could lap up every last bit of your essence that was flowing out of you. He made sure he got every last bit, taking his time to lick and kiss every last part of your slick, throbbing cunt.

Eventually, he pried your legs open and helped you sit up, smiling hard at your flushed out face. He swiped his chin with his thumb, bringing it up to his lips before licking off that last bit of you. He sighed, “Could live in that little hole forever, baby.”

You blushed gently, turning away from him shyly, prompting him to sit next to you. He grabbed you by your waist, pulling you onto his lap so your back was flush against his chest. “Hey, you can’t get all shy on me now. Where’s the feisty girl I know, hm?”

“How could I be mean after you just did that to me,” you pouted, making San laugh.

“You’re always mean to me,” he told you dramatically, grabbing your chin and turning your face towards his. Carefully, he grinded his hips up so that you could feel how hard he was. And he was. Just the taste of you had San throbbing, and the only reason he let you cum so quickly was so that he didn’t cum in his own pants.

You gasped softly, feeling San’s cock pulsing against your ass, then again when his thick fingers began circling your clit again. He rested his chin on your shoulder, speaking so softly into your ear, “And what’s really mean is how you made me so hard, I almost came from how good you tasted. You wouldn’t leave me like this, right, baby?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and turning around in San’s lap. His hands went straight to your ass, cupping it and pulling you down to grind against the tent in his pants. Your eyebrows furrowed gently as your hips moved back and forth on him, concentrated huffs falling from your tongue.

“Greedy girl,” he teased, nudging your jaw with the side of his head gently, “you want my cock in you?”

You nodded, pouting at him, “Please, San. Need you in me bad.”

San just laughed, guiding your hands to unzip his pants. He lowered his voice, looking down at where your crotches met, “Alright, you can have it. But, you gotta do the work now. You really tired me out there before.”

You whined again, this time out of pure exhilaration. Wasting no time, you unzipped San’s fly, yanking down his pants and boxers as best as you could. His cock sprung out, hard and red, begging you to take it.

But first, you giggled mischievously as you gave it a few pumps, enjoying its weight in your hand. San groaned, throwing his head back and cursing under his breath. It didn’t take long for him to grow impatient. He grabbed your waist and guided you to sit up better, right above his manhood.

You moved your hips around just to antagonize San as he’d done to you so many times. He let out a frustrated groan, burying his face against your neck yet again, kissing it softly as he pleaded, “Cmon, baby, don’t make me crazy here.”

“Wanted this for so long, Sannie,” you breathed out as you finally sunk down on him, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. San chuckled, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I know, baby, read all about it,” he smirked, that smug look on his face melting into a lovesick smile as you swatted at his chest. He couldn’t help but suck another bruise into the side of your neck before chiding, “Just teasing you, been thinkin’ about this for a while, too.”

He rutted up into you, hungry and needy, filling your slick heat completely. Your body twitched with each thrust, languid and deep, San’s silent confession. He was savoring his meal, taking it slowly and enjoying it wholly.

The only sound in the room was that of skin on skin, San’s hips snapping up into yours. He knew just the spot to hit inside of you. You cried out in pleasure, prompting San to speed up. The two of you, hungry and desperate to cum, moved together in a near perfect harmony.

“Fuck, this pussy was made for me,” San stuttered, trying to keep himself inside you, but it was hard with your bouncing and his thrusts, not to mention the wetness you spilled each time he left your body for a moment. San grunted in your ear, biting down on your shoulder a moment later. He was close. It didn’t help that everytime he thrusted up into you, you let out the sweetest sounds. San wanted to listen to them all the time, but even the thought of doing this again with you made him harder.

Honestly, his cock kept getting harder with each second it spent inside you. You were so warm, so tight. San was normally a patient man, but it was hard to take his time with you.

You couldn’t be helped either. As soon as he sunk his teeth into you, you came all over him. Wetness poured out of your cunt, coating San as you cried out his name. He followed suit soon afterwards, pulling out and cumming on your thigh. Quickly, San pulled you into a hug, still heaving as a big hand came up to cradle your head.

For a few minutes, the two of you sat together, your form still tucked into San’s warm embrace as he rocked you back and forth. You both tried to regain your breath, but every little touch made either one of you gasp softly before you turned your head the other way, embarrassingly lovesick.

San was warm, physically and figuratively. Sweat dripped off his forehead and fell onto yours, but you couldn’t care less if it meant being held by him. It was strong, secure, surreal… it was everything you had written about before. There were days when all you needed was a firm hug, to be held without the fear of falling, somewhere warm and safe. San was all of that, and you could feel it now. It wasn’t just something you wrote about anymore. It was real.

San noticed the face you made when you were thinking and his heart rate picked up. Was it not good? Did he disappoint you? He nudged your head with his shoulder, pouting, “What’s wrong? Was it not good?”

“What? No! It was amazing, I just… I like you a lot. And I like that I don’t have to imagine things anymore… Well, that is if you want to continue this,” you trailed off, blabbering embarrassedly. Maybe all he wanted was a hookup. Uneasiness settled into your features while amusement settled into San’s.

“Silly girl,” he scoffed, enamored by everything you were, “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

Your eyebrows shot up and your heart fluttered. You were never one to get so worked up so easily, but San had a way of making it happen. You cleared your throat, trying to regain some composure.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” you mirrored, acting coy now. San cupped your face, dimples on full display as he smiled at you, meeting your gaze. He leaned in and gave you his first real kiss of the night. Your lips molded together perfectly, San’s tongue swiping across your lower lip occasionally. You felt his warm cheeks against yours, which made you giggle sweetly. San’s heart melted.

The boy pulled away a moment later, letting his forehead rest against yours, “Does that answer your question, baby?”

You snorted in response, shaking your head bashfully. You wanted to hear him say it. San rolled his eyes in response, his hands moving down your back to rest on either side of your ass. Still, he smiled and whispered, “Yes, I want to be your boyfriend.”

You sighed sweetly, unable to hold back the big smile on your face. San delivered a little spank to your ass, playful and teasing, “Happy now?”

You nodded, allowing a little squeal of excitement to leave you. “Very happy, Sannie. Very happy,” you whispered back, laying your head on his shoulder to look around the dark diner.

Just then, your eyes spotted a little red light up in the corner of the diner, seemingly connected to a security camera. You jumped, whisper yelling at San, “Fuck! Fuck, the cameras, San!”

San jumped as soon as you did, following your gaze up to the security camera. He mirrored your panic for just a moment before pulling you further into the booth, pulling his jacket off to cover up your still bare bottom half.

And just as you thought you were going to have a heart attack, San laughed, and somehow, the uneasiness melted away. He ruffled your hair playfully, moving you off his lap and onto the seat before zipping his pants back up. He stood up, leaning down to your level, “I'll go take care of it, honey. Just clean up and get dressed. And finish your shake,” he told you, motioning to the table where your half empty, half melted chocolate shake sat.

But as soon as he turned around, he turned back and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before scurrying off to the office, ready to delete the footage. You couldn’t help but smile knowing San would take care of it. What a dream boy.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #minranghae #san x reader #san smut #ateez imagines #ateez san #san ateez #kpop smut #ateez fluff #kpop fluff #fluff #smut #san #choi san #sensesseries

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adorekento · 5 months ago

Note

been thinking about dad!sukuna where no matter how hard he is, he'll always be soft to your kids, if possible add nsfw in the end too ;)

So Needy...

synopsis: They say that no matter how tough or rude your man is, he'll always and will be sweet to your kid. But when your little one's tucked in tight, they say... get ready for a freaky night!

warnings (18+): MDNI. dad!sukuna x mom!reader, fluff to smut, explicit SMUT, P in V, unprotected sex (take it or leave it /j wrap it up y'all), dominance, possessiveness, creampie, breeding kink, foreplay (if u closed ur eyes), begging, dry humping, fingering, riding, edging (?), cursing, pet names, mature, and strong language, etc.

wc: 4.8K (proofread)

a/n: this got me giggling and SHIT BRO I want him so bababbabaaadddd GOT IT MOANING HIS NAME IN MORSE CODE (29381837812)¡!!!!!!¡!!¡! I weote this liek Bro 3am PLZ Tske this ignore the errors I'm still Half aslewp

"Mama... good morning..." your 5 year old daughter mumbled as she shuffled over to you on the couch, resting her head on your lap.

"Mornin', sweetie. How’d you sleep?" you asked softly, closing your book and gently running your fingers through her messy hair.

"Still… sleepy, Mama…"

"Well, why did you get up then? You could’ve stayed in bed and slept better..." you said while adjusting her pajamas.

"But Mama, you and Papa aren’t there..." she pouted, looking up at you with those big eyes. "Where’s Papa, Mama?"

"He went out to get breakfast stuff. We didn’t expect you to wake up so early. Are you hungry? I can make something while we wait for your Papa."

"Nooo Mama. Let’s wait for Papa. Then we can all eat together at the same time.."

"Alright.. How about you get a bit more sleep here and then I’ll wake you up when Papa's back?" you suggested with a smile and she nodded sleepily.

—

Not too long after, the door opened and Sukuna walked in with groceries in his hand.

His eyes immediately found you and your daughter, curled up on the couch. You gave him a soft smile and placed a finger over your lips.

"She was asking for you when she woke up, you know?" you whispered softly, carefully adjusting your daughter’s head onto a pillow before standing up slowly, making sure not to disturb her.

"Why? you two can't live without me?" he said while placing the bags on the counter and glancing down at his peacefully sleeping daughter.

You moved to the kitchen, wrapping your arms around his waist as he started unpacking. "She insisted on waiting for you so we can have breakfast together." you said as you rest your head on his back.

"Tch, that stubborn brat." He rolled his eyes.

"Shut up, I know you love her."

"You sayin’ I’m going soft?" Sukuna turned around and leaned in closer, his hand brushing your waist.

"You? Soft? Never!" you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Sukuna pulled you closer, his breath warm against your ear. "You’re lucky she’s asleep." he murmured, his voice husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

His hand slid down your back, fingers lightly tracing patterns through your clothes.

"Soft definitely isn’t the word for you... not even right now..." you whispered with a smirk, biting your lip as you felt something hard pressing against you from below, teasing him as you shifted your hips just slightly, feeling his grip tighten around you.

"You really wanna test me, huh?" he growled softly, brushing his lips against your neck.

Before things could escalate, you heard a yawn from the couch. Your daughter had started to wake up, she's rubbing her eyes and stretching lazily.

Sukuna clicked his tongue in annoyance, pulling away with a reluctant sigh but not before snagging a quick kiss. "Guess we’ll have to continue this later." he said making you giggle.

"Papa!"

Sukuna crouched down, catching her effortlessly and lifting her into his arms. "Morning, brat." She giggled when he kissed her cheek, hugging his neck tightly.

"Are we having breakfast now?" she asked, her eyes bright as she looked between the two of you.

"Yeah." Sukuna said, ruffling her hair before setting her down. He glanced over at you with a playful glint in his eye. "You owe me later."

"I’ll think about it."

"You owe Papa something, Mama?" your daughter asked, playing with her spoon and fork.

"I don’t know, do I now, honey?" you teased, grabbing the comb to brush her hair.

"Shut up."

"Mama, if Papa is making you angry, tell me, okay? I’ll talk to him!" your daughter said, pumping her fist.

"Oh, my sweetie... Papa’s making Mama angry! What’s my little one gonna do about it?" you laughed, combing her hair.

"Then I won’t talk to Papa anymore!" she pouted, making you giggle.

"Aww, you didn't even hesitate! But wouldn’t it make Papa sad? What if Papa cries, sweetie?" you pouted back, making Sukuna’s eye twitch.

"Who says I’m gonna cry?"

"I did, a problem?"

"Papa! What did I say about speaking gently to Mama?!" your daughter shouted.

"Right, right! Remember, baby, never copy your dad’s behavior, okay? Never speak rudely. Mama doesn’t like it. If Mama catches you speaking like that... Mama will be sad." you said, barely containing your giggles.

Your daughter nodded seriously, clearly taking the lesson to heart. "Okay, Mama. I’ll be nice every day."

"That's my good girl!"

—

After breakfast, Sukuna helped clean up while you tended to your daughter. She mentioned she was still sleepy and wanted to head back to bed. You tucked her in, smoothing her blankets and brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

"Sleep tight, sweetie." you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Mhm... I love you, Mama and Papa..." she murmured, already drifting off.

"We love you more, baby." You said softly, leaving her room and closing the door gently behind you.

When you returned to the living room, you found Sukuna lounging on the couch, his head resting on his hand.

"Come here."

"You’re so full of yourself today and it’s not even noon yet." you teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Or maybe I’m just waiting for my reward." he said as you sat down beside him, draping your arms around his neck.

"And what makes you think you deserve a reward?" you asked, leaning in.

"Because I’m an amazing dad and a handsome husband?" he replied with a grin.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "You're acting as if that's your full-time job."

Sukuna leaned closer, his hand brushing your hair behind your ear. His touch was warm and comforting. "C'mon... don’t keep me waiting, baby..." he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

"Needy, aren’t you?"

"Yeah, I'm worth it."

You chuckled. "Oh, really? And what makes you so sure about that?"

Sukuna’s hand continued to trace gentle patterns on your back as he leaned in closer. "I’ve got my ways," he said, his voice low and filled with confidence. "I think you’ve got a pretty good idea of what I’m talking about."

You laughed softly, tilting your head to the side. "Not at all... I know you're insufferable though..."

"Insufferable AND irresistible."

You slid closer, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours. "Anddd... what if... I’m not in the mood to reward you right now?"

"Then I guess I’ll just have to make you change your mind, baby." he said, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

"I wanna see you try?"

"Oh, I don't have to try." he said with a smirk.

You leaned in closer, your faces inches apart. "Well, don’t keep me waiting," you teased, your voice barely a whisper.

Without breaking eye contact, he reached up, his fingers gently grazing your cheek as he closed the distance between you.

His kiss was slow and deliberate, brimming with the unique combination of passion and affection that only he can ever give.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with satisfaction. "Is that enough convincing?"

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his kiss linger. "Maybe." you said playfully. "But I think you might need to keep trying if you want to really win me over."

Sukuna chuckled, his hands resting on your hips as he drew you closer. "You wanna play, huh..." he groaned.

You leaned in closer, your lips almost brushing against his ear. "Mhm..." you teased, your breath warm against his skin. "Show me."

With a wicked grin, Sukuna’s hands slid up your back, pulling you even closer. His lips traced a slow, deliberate path along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. His touch was light yet intense, every movement filled with purpose.

"Is this convincing enough?"

You could barely suppress a moan as his lips moved closer to yours. "Nah..." you said, your voice breathy and teasing. "I think you’re going to have to work a bit harder..."

Sukuna’s smirk widened as he guided you to sit on his lap, the firm pressure of his bulge pressing against you. His hands rested possessively on your hips, keeping you securely in place.

"Look who’s getting comfortable." he murmured, his voice low and full of amusement. "Guess I’m doing something right."

You shifted slightly, feeling the heat radiating from him. "Oh, you think so?" you teased, leaning in closer so your lips were near his ear. "But you still haven’t convinced me."

Sukuna’s hands slid up your back, his touch both firm and gentle as he pulled you closer. His lips brushed your neck in a teasing trail, making your breath hitch.

"You're just pushing your luck." he growled, his voice a dark promise. "But I’m more than happy to oblige."

You felt a shiver run down your spine as his lips lingered near your ear, his breath warm and tantalizing.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" you asked breathlessly, trying to maintain your teasing tone despite the growing heat.

"Oh, I have my methods." he said, his hands moving to your waist and gripping you tightly.

"But first... I really want to see you squirm."

You tried to adjust yourself, but your fumbling only seemed to heighten the tension between you. "You’re really making it hard for me to focus." you admitted with a laugh.

"Good, I love it when you’re a little off balance."

His lips finally met yours, you found yourself responding eagerly, the playful challenge melting into a deeper, more connection.

As he deepened the kiss, his hands roamed over your back, his touch were electrifying. Every press was calculated to make you feel the pleasure as his teasing never let you settled.

Sukuna’s hands slid up and down your back as the kiss became more insistent, more consuming, as he deepened it, making your head spin with the intensity of his desire.

His fingers found their way to the small of your back, pulling you even closer against him. The heat of his body pressed into you, accentuating the playful struggle you were having to stay balanced on his lap.

You could feel every subtle shift of his muscles beneath you, each one making the heat between you grow.

You broke the kiss just long enough to catch your breath, your eyes fluttering open to meet his intense gaze. "You’re really not making this easy..." you murmured.

"Isn’t that the point?"

He trailed kisses along your jawline and down your neck, his lips brushing lightly against your skin, making you shiver with anticipation.

You adjusted his collar, unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate slowness. Your icy fingers against his warm skin only heightened the growing heat between you.

The thought of where this is leading had your pussy throbbing.

The thought of taking this to the living room was dangerously exciting.

You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d manage to stay quiet—or if Sukuna would even let you. He loved hearing your voice, especially when he’s the one pushing you to lose control.

The thought of him pushing you to your limits and making sure everyone knew he was the one making you feel this way was seriously hot.

Leaning in closer, your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered provocatively, "Think you can handle letting me decide how loud this gets?"

Sukuna’s breath was hot against your neck as he growled low, "If that’s what you want, I’ll let you have it—for now." His hands gripped you tightly, pulling you flush against him, making it almost impossible to think about anything but the intense fire building between you.

"For now? I’m not sure how much longer I can keep quiet..."

"So you just want me to make you scream, huh?"

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan. "Yeah..." you admitted, your voice wavering slightly with the intensity of the moment. "But I also want you to make me lose control completely."

He chuckled darkly, his hands sliding down to your hips and pulling you into a closer, more intimate position. "I’ve been thinking about that..." he murmured, his lips brushing yours before he kissed you deeply again.

Sukuna’s hands roamed your body with a possessive, eager touch, his kisses getting hotter and more urgent. He gripped your hips tighter, pulling you in.

"Fuckkk..." you whispered, your voice shaky as his lips worked their way down your neck and shoulders.

"I haven’t even started yet and you’re already a moaning mess..." he growled, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you hard. His kiss was all-consuming, making you gasp for air and wanting more.

His lips moved to your ear, his breath hot and teasing. "You want this, don’t you?" he growled, his voice rough and making your spine tingle.

"Yes..." you gasped, fingers digging into his hair as you pulled him closer. "I want this. I want you."

Sukuna’s grip on your waist was firm and possessive. "Good..." he smirked, his tone both demanding and confident. "'Cause I’m about to give you everything you’re craving."

He lifted you slightly, his movements were smooth as he shifted you into a more intimate position. His body pressed firmly against yours and the heat of his desire was undeniable.

Every touch and every kiss from him was making you crazy like it's impossible to focus on anything but heat that's rising between you.

Sukuna’s large hands explored your body as he lifted you with an ease, adjusting you.

Your body radiates a heat that was impossible to ignore.

His kisses wandered from your lips to your cheeks, then to your neck, and finally, he lifted your right arm to kiss your wrist.

You couldn’t help but giggle as you ground yourself against his straining cock, the thin barrier of clothing the only thing keeping you apart.

The direct contact between your bodies made the moment even more intense.

His hands slid down your body, lifting your dress and exploring your thighs, dangerously close to your aching pussy.

’He's doing this on purpose...’ you groaned, feeling the teasing touch. "Stop teasing me..." You bit your lip.

"Shh... we have all the time we need, baby..."

"That doesn’t mean you can’t just drop the act and fuck me senseless!" you whispered.

"Shut up. You can’t tell me what to do." he retorted.

"But you promised you’d give me what I want!" you whispered-yelled, making him scoff at your impatience.

Sukuna’s smirk widened at your frustration, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Promises, promises." he said, "But you know I enjoy making you work for it."

His hands continued the exploration, clicking the edge of your underwear. His touch made it hard for you to stay as sane, your breath coming in uneven gasps.

You shifted on his lap, trying to ease the pressure, but nothing. "C'mon..." you breathed, "don’t make me beg."

"Begging, huh?"

"But I love hearing you beg."

Sukuna’s smirk grew more intense as he continued his teasing. His fingers brushed your clit on your underwear, and the sensation made you shiver with frustration.

You tried to shift on his lap, desperate for more contact, but he only seemed to enjoy making you squirm.

"Begging suits you, princess." he said, his voice a low murmur, filled with desire. "It’s cute hearing you ask for it."

You bit your lip, trying to control your breathing. "Stop playing and just—" you started, but he cut you off with a sudden heated kiss.

His hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you closer. The kiss was rough, filled with raw passion and his touch became more insistent. His fingers finally slid underneath your underwear, his touch direct and electrifying.

"You’re really eager, huh?" Sukuna murmured, his voice rough and low as it brushed against your lips. "But I guess I can’t make you wait forever."

You gasped as he pulled your panties aside, His fingers began to rub your clit with a good pressure, sending waves of pleasure through your veins with every touch.

"Finally...!" you moaned, pressing against his fingers, your frustration giving way to your unfiltered desire.

"There you go..."

Sukuna's touch became more insistent, his fingers moving with a steady rhythm that matched the increasing urgency of your moans.

He grinned, clearly getting off on your reactions. Each time his fingers touched you, you gasped and squirmed.

"Enjoying this?" he teased, his voice rough and low as he kept teasing you just the way he knew you liked.

You could only respond with breathy moans and nods, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations. The world around you seemed to narrow to just the two of you, your focus entirely on the pleasure he was giving you.

The way his fingers slid in and out of your pussy had you moaning loudly, unable to hold back your noise.

Sukuna shoved his fingers into your mouth, making you gag. "I know you’re into making sounds, but you really don’t want our kid to wake up, do you?" he said with a dark chuckle, clearly amused by the situation.

‘Damn, I totally forgot…’ you thought, panic setting in. You’d been so wrapped up in everything happening right then that your daughter sleeping nearby had completely slipped your mind.

"Mmm, sorry baby... Faster please..." you mumbled around his fingers, your voice muffled. You dug your nails into his forearms, your need clear despite the gagging.

He quickly picked up the pace, his fingers moving in and out faster, pushing you closer to the edge.

He could feel you getting near your peak, no need for you to say a word.

He knew exactly how to push you to that intense climax you were craving.

All that teasing and buildup has left you intensely on edge, craving release more than anything.

You’re practically desperate to just hop on his cock, and have him give you what you need.

But you can’t take charge here as you know Sukuna likes to do everything. It’s not like you have no say at all, but you trust that he knows exactly how to handle things.

So, you let him take the lead, knowing he’ll do what’s necessary to make sure you get what you’re yearning for.

"Come on my fingers, babe. Show me how badly you need it." Sukuna murmured in your ear, his voice sending shivers all over.

The way he spoke made your face flush, and before long, you were dripping all over his fingers, completely lost in the sensation.

You arched your back, gasping for air as the pleasure surged through you. Every part of your body trembled, and you struggled to catch your breath.

The room seemed to spin around you as you tried to steady yourself, every muscle in your body feeling tight and quivering. Sukuna’s fingers, coated with your release, brushed gently over your skin.

"You’re still so worked up..." he said, his voice low and teasing, clearly enjoying the sight.

He trails his fingers slowly down your body, feeling every quiver, every reaction.

The way you’re still catching your breath, the way your eyes flutter open and closed—it's all fueling his desire.

He leans in again, his voice a soft, seductive whisper. "I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? For me to keep pushing you like this?"

Your body practically aches toward him, craving more. Sukuna pulls his fingers out, a smirk playing on his lips as he looks at the mess you made.

"So dirty." he chuckled, eyeing your juices on his fingers with a smirk.

You straightened up, covering your mouth with your hand and turning away, feeling a flush of embarrassment. "You didn’t have to put it like that..." you mumbled.

"Why so shy all of a sudden?" he teased, his grin widening as he slipped his fingers into his mouth, savoring every drop of your release.

The way he looked at you, his eyes dark with desire as he licked his fingers made your pussy clench with need.

"Can you just fuck me already?" you begged, your voice desperate. "Please…"

He pulled his fingers from his mouth, gripping your neck as he pressed his lips against yours with an intimate kiss.

His other hand slid beneath your shirt, teasing your nipples. He gave them a quick flick, causing you to gasp. Seizing the moment, he deepened the kiss, letting you taste yourself.

He continued to kiss you wild. His touch was making the heat between you grow more crazy with every second.

You could feel the pressure building and the anticipation almost unbearable as he made his intentions clear.

He pulled away just enough to look into your eyes. "Are you ready for more?" he asked and you could only nod in response, completely caught up in the moment.

You propped yourself up as he unzipped his pants, pulling them down. You took this chance to peel off your shirt, leaving yourself in just your bra and panties.

He guided your hips to rest on his lap, his lips crashing onto your neck with a forceful, almost feverish intensity.

The kisses were deep and relentless, driving you wild. He found that sensitive spot on your neck, pressing into it with a knowing touch.

It wasn’t just that he found it—he knew exactly how to hit it, making you moan loudly at the sensation.

He seemed to know your body even better than you do.

He kept his focus on your neck, his kisses growing more insistent, making you shiver with every touch.

His left hand moved skillfully across your back, effortlessly undoing your bra in one swift motion. His lips never left your neck, their heat intensifying as he found that sensitive spot.

With your bra now removed, his hand slid to your chest, his fingers brushing lightly over your bare skin.

The sensation made you gasp, your breath hitching as he explored further. He continued his slow kisses on your neck.

He paused for a moment, just above your collarbone, breathing heavily against your skin.

His hand��that's now free to explore—moved up to cup your breast.

His thumb brushed over your nipple, causing it to get hard instantly. He teased your nipple with slow circles making you moan softly.

"So fucking... wild."

You moaned softly as his cold thick fingers toyed with your other nipple, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through you.

His mouth latched onto your breast, and the sudden pressure made you bite down hard on your lip, a whimper escaping before you could stop it.

You ground your hips against his, your soaked panties sliding over his hard cock. The slickness between you made the friction even more intense and you could feel his pre-cum through the fabric.

He groaned against your chest, teeth grazing your nipple, causing you to squirm and press harder against him.

Your hands gripped his head, pushing him closer, desperate for more. "Fuck... baby." he groaned.

His mouth moved eagerly against your skin, his groans vibrating through you as his teeth grazed your sensitive nipple again, sending another shiver down your spine.

His hands slid down your body, gripping your hips and guiding your grinding, pushing you harder against him.

The friction was electric, your panties soaked as you rubbed yourself against his cock. Every brush made your body tremble with need.

"You’re making it hard for me to control myself." he growled into your skin, his voice thick with lust. His lips moved up to your neck, biting gently before soothing it with his tongue, leaving you breathless and wanting even more.

You gasped, rolling your hips faster, the pressure inside you building rapidly. The way his hands gripped you tighter, the way his lips kept teasing your skin—it was all too much.

You needed more, and you needed it now.

"W-Who told you to—control yourself..." you groaned, pressing down even harder against his cock, the need almost unbearable.

"Just fuck me now... Please..." your voice shaky with desperation, your breath hot against his ear as you ground your hips, begging for him to give you exactly what you craved.

His fingers trailed down from your nipples to your thighs, edging closer to your core. This time, though, he pushed your panties aside, teasingly rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance.

Just the tip, but it was already making you moan utterly loud, your mind spinning in a whirlwind of thoughts.

A part of you—in this heat—wondered if you'd even mind having another kid, the idea of him breeding you leaving your mind foggy with desire.

But you’d never admit it—not when he already had more than enough of an ego.

He smirked, feeling the way your body reacted to his teasing, pressing the tip against your entrance but not pushing in, making you tremble with anticipation. "So needy... look at you, already so desperate and I haven’t even put it in yet."

"Then put it in now!" You bucked your hips against him, trying to push him inside, but he held your hips firmly, keeping you still.

"Patience..." he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

Your mind was racing, the teasing too much, the feeling of his cock so close but not enough. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, your body on fire, aching for him to just take you.

"Bet you’d want me to—"

You cut him off with an urgent kiss, catching him off guard as you lowered yourself onto his thick cock, feeling him fill you completely.

You pulled back from the kiss, burying your face in his neck and biting down hard to keep your moans quiet. You knew you'd leave a mark, but you didn’t give a damn.

His cock twitched inside you, and his groans grew louder as he felt your sudden, intense move.

He gripped on your ass tightly and gave them a smack. "Looks like my girl’s a real freak." he chuckled. His comment made you clench around him even more.

In that moment, you lost all sense of anything, even the truth that he's your husband but damn the idea of repeating this only fueled your excitement as you eagerly rode his cock.

His size was fucking insane... you felt every ridge and vein of him and it's like he was sculpted just for you.

As you moved on him, his groans grew louder. The way he responded to every shift and motion of your body made you even more eager.

His hands on your hips were perfect, guiding you just the way you wanted.

You noticed how your husband’s eyes were glued to your bouncing breasts and the way you were taking him in and out.

His hesitation to meet your gaze just made you feel more in control. You grabbed his face firmly, making him look up at you.

"Eyes up here, baby." you said firmly, making sure he had no choice but to focus on you.

"Alright, Woman..." he chuckled, clearly enjoying how his words made you tighten around him. He knew his words drove you wild, making you squirm with desire every time he spoke.

"You’ve got me wanting to put a brat in you again.” he said with a smirk. His words made you close your eyes, and your movements grew more desperate.

"You’re seriously.. making me want to fill you up and maybe even get you pregnant..." Sukuna said, "Makes me wonder how you’d handle at least six—of them running.. around the house. You’re so damn good with our little one…" He watched you lower your head, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

The thought of Sukuna wanting another child with you is overwhelming. Even though pregnancy isn’t your favorite thing, the idea of him wanting to completely fill you up is making you wetter.

You grip him tighter, making him groan. "Hah..—Already thinking about it? Want me to fill you up, yeah? Tell me what you want." he teased, his voice dripping with desire.

The intensity of the moment leaves you speechless, and you can only nod in agreement.

His cock pulses and throbs deep inside you, and as you climax, the intense pleasure overwhelms you. You can feel his warm release filling you up completely, amplifying your own pleasure.

The simultaneous rush of your orgasms causes you to moan loudly, your body shaking.

As the waves of pleasure went down, Sukuna’s breath comes in deep ragged gasps. His grip on your hips loosens, but his cock remains firmly nestled inside you.

"So... you’re really full of surprises, huh?" he drawls, his voice low and rough, laced with a dangerous edge.

You arch an eyebrow, smirking as you shift slightly. "You think.. you know everything about me?... There’s always something new with me."

He chuckles darkly, his fingers lazily fixing your hair from behind. "Oh, I’m aware. It’s part of what makes this so damn interesting. You push boundaries."

You let out a soft laugh, enjoying the shift in his demeanour. "And you don’t exactly play it safe yourself."

"That’s one way to put it."

"I wouldn’t want it any other way. Boring isn’t really my style, Suuu-kuna~"

"Good. Because I’m far from done with you."

1K notes · View notes

luveline · 11 months ago

Note

Bombshell r loosing her mind when Spence walks into work late that one day and he has the “boy band” haircut

“What’s with the face?”

Morgan raises his eyebrows at you, waiting for an answer you don’t have.

“What’s wrong with my face?” you ask.

“Nothing–”

“Clearly.”

“You look way too happy, considering.” He gestures to the board currently displaying a grisly crime scene photo and the empty seat across from you. “Another case, and a severe lack of your favourite toy.”

“Spencer isn’t my toy, he’s my sweetheart, and I’m gutted he’s running late but I’m toughing it out.”

Being on the team is all you’ve ever wanted. With Gideon long gone and enough time elapsed between Strauss’ political push for Emily, you’re here permanently, where you’ve always wanted to be. It’s been the best few months of your life. A lot of that due to Spencer’s unfailing friendship. He’s so kind to you. You’re really getting along.

“Let’s focus in,” Hotch says.

You bridle with excitement, poorly contained. You don’t get very far into spitballing when JJ’s lips part in bemusement.

“Well, hello,” she says.

You turn in your chair away from JJ and Penelope where they’re giving the presentation to the door, where Spencer is smiling genially. He sits down with his bag still on his shoulder, a heavy silence having fallen over the room.

Spencer has cut his hair. Gone is the long, mostly straight lengths of his hair. Did he get a perm? You’re shell-shocked. “Oh my god,” you mumble to yourself.

“What, did you join a boyband?” Hotch asks, frowning.

His lips part in small offence. “No,” he says.

Emily and Morgan laugh. Spencer tucks his chair in, and you don’t know who wants to say what or how quickly you’re supposed to pretend to get over this, but you don’t care. “Spencer!” you say, “Spencer!”

“L/N, please don’t start.”

Hotch is only saying please because he knows he had his own reaction he could’ve kept internal, how can he ask you to smother your own. You lean hard across the table and gaze at Spencer lovingly —startled but inarguably infatuated.

“You’ve never, ever looked this handsome before,” you say, true and not true, “ever. I gotta–” Your hand reaches out at the same moment your legs decide to stand. “Can I touch it?”

Hotch sighs with disappointment.

You pass behind your teammates' chairs to look at him.

“Stop,” Spencer says immediately, his palm to your stomach. “You’re being mean.”

“I’m being mean? You didn’t even consult me.”

“It’s my hair.”

“Spencer, you’re gorgeous no matter what, but I need some warning if you don’t want me to do this.”

“Sit back down,” Morgan says, rolling his eyes.

You tuck one lovely curl behind Spencer’s ear carefully. “I love it so much, I can’t believe it. This is the best thing that’s happened to me since I joined the BAU.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

3K notes · View notes

supercutszns · 1 year ago

Text

a place with you; luke castellan

wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)

pairing: luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.

warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.

So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.

When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.

“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.

“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”

You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.

Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.

So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.

Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.

Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?

This time, though, he’s a little worried.

It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.

It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.

There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.

You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.

“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”

You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”

It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”

The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.

Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”

“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”

You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”

He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”

“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”

“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”

“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”

You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”

It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.

Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”

“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.

His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”

I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.

“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”

It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”

He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”

Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”

Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.

Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.

Until you’re claimed.

Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.

He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.

Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.

You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.

But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?

After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.

“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.

You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”

Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.

You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”

When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”

There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.

He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.

“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.

You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”

“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”

It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”

You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”

There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”

Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”

He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”

His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”

He turns back to you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.

“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”

Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”

His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”

It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”

There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”

You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.

He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.

“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”

“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.

He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.

But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.

#perrie’s fics #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo #pjo series #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #charlie bushnell #this is far longer than i wanted it to be so sorry.#don’t usually write in 2nd person or present tense so i’m just trying not to look at it #the evil men with curly hair have won again

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byeoltoyuki · 2 months ago

Text

DENIAL

↳ Pairing: San x reader

❧ Genre: enemies to lovers, enemies with benefits, fluff

❧ Words: +6k

❧ Warnings: blowjob, unprotected sex, pussy slapping, mention of orgasm denial and spanking and being tied.

❧Summary : You swore it was a one-time thing. Get him out of your system and never see him again. If only it was that simple.

❧ A/N: Surprise! I’m not dead! I’ve been barely active on tumblr for the past few months but I never stopped wishing to have time to write some more. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing. Comments are always appreciated ♥

“It’s the last time.” You swore against San’s lips, biting angrily, pushing him against the nearest wall, tearing his shirt off, as if it was entirely his fault. When really, it was mainly yours.

This thing, whatever it was, between the two of you, was supposed to be a one-time thing. You were supposed to get him out of your system, maybe also prove that he wasn’t worth your time, and preferably ignore his existence for the rest of your life. So how the hell did a one-time thing turned into two, then three, then ten?

Simple.

San was a walking sin. Handsome (sadly) face with a sharp jaw. Pretty eyes, pretty smile and devastatingly cute dimples. And his body. You shuddered just at the mere thought. Strong muscles that could crush you if he wanted to. Strong hands that often find its ways either around your throat or on your ass.

To sum up, San was a temptation you couldn’t ignore no matter how hard you tried.

“I believe you said the same thing the last two times.” He reminded you, a smug grin on his face. Oh how much you wished you could wipe this grin from his face – but you couldn’t. San held power over you. He knew exactly what to say, where to kiss, where to touch to turn you into an addicted mess, begging for more. Always making sure you would crawl back to him.

There had to be something wrong with you. There was no other explanation.

Annoyed with yourself and a little with him, you shut him up with another kiss, trying to win at least one battle – the only one you stood a chance. There was nothing sweet about the way you kissed. No, you poured both all your resentment and need into the kiss. You pressed yourself harder against him, pulling at his hair which made him chuckle against your lips, completely unfazed with your annoyance.

“Nice attempt, kitten.” San cooed at you, his hands slowly sliding down your body, stopping at your butt. He gave it a strong squeeze that made you bite on your lips to prevent a moan to escape. “But we both know I win again.”

You were dying to protest, to prove him wrong. But it would be lying. Because ever since you met, he kept winning against you.

Six months ago

The bar was crowded and loud. So many people had gathered there for different reasons in the middle of the week. You and your friend were one of them. It was supposed to be a good night. A night to celebrate another victory of yours, another success. And yet, you were far from celebrating. Quite the opposite.

You emptied your glass in one go and groaned. “I can’t believe she chose this Choi’s design.” You complained, still baffled that you had failed. You were one of the best in your field and you had spent endless hours working to satisfy a potential client. You were so confident in your design, convinced your client would adore the outcome. And she did. She did admit it. It was a tough decision and yet, you lost to a guy you had never met or heard before and it irked you to no end, hurt in your ego.

“As much as it pains me to admit, he’s good.” Yeji said and winced instantly as you gave her the stinky eye. She held up her hands in defense. “Don’t look at me like that. I warned you he’s good, you choose not to listen.”

Yes, you made a terrible mistake and you were perfectly aware of it. It wasn’t in your habits to underestimate an opponent whether it was their first time or not, but lost in your own little world, you did exactly that and now were paying the price.

“Fuck.” You buried your face in your hands. It wasn’t the end of your world and definitely not of your career but it still stung.

“Come on, I don’t think it’s a bad thing.” Yeji began, “This project would have taken a lot of your free time. Now you can concentrate on something else.”

“Guess so.” You agreed. “I’m gonna get another drink.” But before you could do that, a commotion behind you attracted your attention as a group of men entered the bar. You didn’t intend to stare (and you were definitely not the only one staring right now) but it was impossible not to. The four of them looked incredibly handsome in their suits and had a powerful aura around them.

Well shit. Your eyes followed them as they went for the only empty table in the back of the bar. You eyed them, one by one, your gaze stopping at the tallest of the group. You watched him, unable to take your eyes off him, as he took off his jacket and slowly rolled the sleeves of his white shirt, exposing strong and veiny arms.

Yeji coughed beside you, trying to attract your attention to no avail. For a short moment you felt like in a movie; the moment where everything and everyone stopped existing except for you and this stranger. It was a ridiculous reaction, you thought later, but there was something about him that had you completely bewitched. Maybe you had a kink for men in suits and you weren’t aware of it. Or maybe it was his aura along with the nice smile.

“YN,” Yeji’s voice sounded so far away despite her being so close. “You should probably stop looking.” She quickly added, sounding a little nervous which should have been a warning but you barely registered her words.

He, sensing probably your eyes on him, looked your way. He stared back, his gaze so intense you gulped. But then, he smiled, showing his cute dimples and you swore your heart missed a beat. Yeah, you somehow ended in a movie.

“You’re drooling.” Yeji mocked.

That got your attention and you quickly looked away. “I am not.”

Yeji burst into laughter. “That got your attention huh.” But quickly sobered as she glanced at the man who was still staring at you, curiously. “Just so you know, this man is Choi San.”

You were grateful your hands were empty because you would have dropped your glass. “What?” You looked back, eyes wide. This beautiful stranger, the man that made your heart skipped a beat couldn’t be the man who won against you. No way. You refused to believe your friend.

Until the said man winked your way, his smile turning into a knowing smirking as if he knew exactly what Yeji had told you. As if he knew, you just found out his identity and were not happy about it.

Fuck my life.

Back to present

San grabbed your hips and in a blink of an eye you found yourself crushed against the wall. He pressed his body hard against yours, letting you feel all of him. Letting you feel just how badly he was also craving you. You couldn’t help but arch and moan as you felt his hardness against you. He pushed his leg between your knees and forced them apart. Your body moved on its own, you grinded shamelessly against his thigh, trying to ease the ache between your legs.

He tsked. “So needy.” And yet he didn’t stop you. “So beautiful, love.” San dragged his lips from your lips, to your jaw, to your throat, leaving no inch of flesh untouched. “So responsive.” Biting, licking, marking you. No matter how many times you told him not to mark you, he still did as if he wanted the whole world to know exactly who you belonged to. As if he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t forget that no matter how much you tried to escape him, there was no way out.

Your whole body thrummed with need, with desire. You believed you could die if he didn’t touch you. It should be illegal to feel so much need for someone.

“Tell me, love. What do you want?” He asked as he bit on your tender flesh.

Desperate and on fire as you were, you were ready to accept anything he was willing to give. “Anything.”

He chuckled against your skin. “My lips?” And he sucked a spot. “My tongue?” And he licked. “My fingers?” You felt him slip his fingers right under your dress, toying with your flesh. “Mmmmh, no panties tonight, love? You knew how it would end.” For someone who behaved as if San was the bane of your existence, you certainly came prepared for this to happen. Hoping he would bring you to his place and ruin you.

“Please, please, please.” You begged, half delirious with need. His fingers were so close to your aching pussy. You just couldn’t wait any longer.

“Use your mouth, love.” He advised you. “You usually have no problem with using this pretty mouth of yours. Especially to tell me how much you hate me.” He pressed the palm of his hand to your cunt and hummed in satisfaction. “And yet look at you. So desperate.” And he slapped your pussy.

You arched your back as a loud moan escaped your lips. It was not enough. You couldn’t take it. “Just fuck me. Please.”

San hiked your legs around his waist, his grip on you strong, bruising, possessive. You loved every second of it. You buried your head into his neck, biting, leaving marks in return. For once, it wouldn’t be just scratches on his back that you would leave.

Holding you with one hand, he took out his cock with the other and nudged against your pussy. Despite his own need and wish to ravish you and make you scream his name, he couldn’t help but tease you.

You whined in response. “Bloody hell, San.”

“Admit that you don’t hate me and I’ll give it to you.” He challenged you.

And you couldn’t believe he would ask something like that. You could talk about your hatred (or lack of it) any other time but no, he chose this moment. The urge to kick him was strong but San pushed the tip of his hot and hard cock inside you and you lost the wish to fight right away.

Fuck it. You needed him to fill you up more. “I don’t hate you.”

The smile he gave you unsettled you. His smile was genuine and so happy, you forgot how to breath. But before you could dwell on it, San buried himself to the hilt.

“Fuck!” You threw your head back.

This.

Him inside you, hard and warm. So incredibly full. You just couldn’t get enough of it.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath. He was trying hard to control himself and not just pound into you. He wanted to tease you more, to watch you fall apart around his cock. But then, you clenched around him and he growled. “Don’t do that.” It came out more desperate than he intended, exposing just how affected he was. He could play the powerful man all he wanted, but once inside you, there was little control left.

“Fuck me, please.”

San closed his eyes and took a deep breath before, finally, unleashing the beast. His grip on your thighs tightened to the point, you knew it would leave marks later, and did not care. He fucked you against the wall, his every thrusts powerful, going deeper and deeper. Your nails dug into his shoulders, holding for your dear life as whimpers escaped your parted lips.

You took everything he gave you, mewling, arching, begging for more. “Please, don’t stop.” It was still not enough. You didn’t comprehend why you needed so much more from him, but there was no reasoning. Not when your whole body sang in response to his cock.

“No chance.” He reassured you with another sharp thrust. “This,” and another strong one. “is mine, kitten.” And he growled louder, his pace not slowing down. In fact, it turned harder. Punishing.

And it felt divine. Every inch of him just made you feel so alive. There was no stopping. Every stroke of his cock brought you closer to the edge. Your mind blanked. You could barely breath. Your body trembling. And you still wanted more. More pleasure. More of him.

And he could tell. “Come for me, love.”

How could you not obey when his voice sounded so sweet? So full with something you almost believed to be love. Electricity shot through your body and you cried out his name. Tears leaked from the corner of your eyes as your orgasm hit you in waves.

San fucked you through your orgasm, seeking his own release. San’s thrusts grew sloppier. He hissed between his teeth and finally he came with a deep groan. He pressed his forehead against yours.

None of you spoke. The only sound in the room was your pants and probably the roars of your hearts.

“I’m never letting you go.” He promised.

***

You woke up in the middle of the night, feeling all hot and squeezed tightly. It took you a moment to realize where you were and who was lying half on top of you. You weren’t supposed to be sleeping in his bed. In fact, you were supposed to be back at your place, in your bed. But you were drained after your late-night activity.

One round turned into two than three. You couldn’t have enough of him and San obliged. He fucked you in his bed, hands tied behind your back, at his mercy, ass red with all the spanking (who cared if you wouldn’t be able to sit straight for a day or two). He fucked you again in the shower because you couldn’t be a nice girl and keep your hands to yourself when he tried to clean you.

Get the hell out of here! A little, panicked voice ordered you. But as if sensing your attempt at fleeing, San’s grip on your body tightened to the point you couldn’t move your limbs at all. Even in his sleep, he was aware of your intentions. Even in his sleep, he wanted to keep you close and safe in his arms.

You tried a few times but failed every single time. Resigned, you turned in his arms so you could face his sleeping form. San looked so relaxed, his face so soft and the little pout unleashed the butterflies in the stomach.

Shit. I’m in trouble. Big trouble.

You didn’t want to feel so much for this man, but with every passing day it became harder and harder. Obviously, sex was great and addicting, but it wasn’t the only thing that made you come back for more.

Three months ago,

You sighed and cursed yourself for the hundredth time tonight.

They say ‘beauty requires sacrifice’ – you agreed but hated it nevertheless. Nothing was better than comfortable clothes. But tonight, and every time you had a party where you could spot potential clients, you did your best. And tonight, you looked particularly good. You had outdone yourself, whether it was with your dress or your shoes or your makeup. Everything was perfect. Not that you had any ulterior motives. No men you were trying to seduce. And especially not the diabolically handsome one who, and it hurt to admit, chose not to come tonight. It was unusual. San attended the same parties you did which made avoiding him quite difficult and not end in his bed even harder.

You shook your head. “Stop thinking about this asshole.” You scolded yourself and slowly walked towards the balcony, hoping it would be empty and you could take your shoes off for a moment. Heels were great, it made you look hot, but it was a pain in your ass. You regretted them a lot.

You met few people from the party on your way to the balcony; some were too lost in their conversation, some seemed to be lost in a seduction game and some smiled at you. You tried your best to ignore the pain and smile back.

But finally, you reached your destination. You sighed loudly in relief as you found the balcony empty. Just perfect. You leaned against the railing and slowly reached your feet and started rubbing. It soothed you but only for a moment. The wish to just take them off was strong but you couldn’t possibly walk back bare feet.

“What a sight.” A very familiar voice echoed not very far from you.

All your pain vanished instantly as you raised your head and found San leaning against the doorframe, watching you intensely. Your heart leaped in joy at the sight of him which should have appalled you but right in this moment, you barely cared. He looked dashing in his white cream suit. He could be a model and you wouldn’t be surprised.

San eyed you from head to toe, slowly, making sure to memorize the sight in front of him. “I’m surprised no men tried to approach you. You’re gorgeous, love.”

You weren’t waiting for someone’s approval, but his words along with the hunger in his eyes, pleased you more than you were willing to admit. Your words failed you, so instead of trying to say something, you simply stared back and enjoy the view.

A tiny smile grew on San’s face at your lack of reaction. Slowly, he moved toward you and only then you noticed what he was holding in his hand: a pair of flat shoes. Your shoes. You didn’t remember leaving a pair at his place which made you question how he got them in the first place.

“What – How?” You mumbled; eyes wide.

San didn’t answer right away. He stopped in front of you and then, slowly, his eyes locked with yours, got on his knees. You forgot how to breath for a second, unable to look away, unable to speak.

Your treacherous mind couldn’t help but imagine what he could do to you. Your treacherous body forgot all about the pain and instead tingled with desire.

You watched him as his hands found your ankles and a soft gasp escaped your lips. He rubbed your ankles gently, his warmth spreading through your body.

“San-“ Whatever you were about to say died on your tongue as he massaged your left ankle a little stronger – you moaned at the relief. Embarrassed with how easily he made you moan, you clasped your hand over your mouth. San, instead of teasing you like he usually would, only smiled.

“Hold on to me.”

You hold onto his shoulder, your knees feeling suddenly weak. Not because you couldn’t stand properly but having San on his knees, taking care of you and being so gentle? You were a mess and not the kind you were used to. You could probably melt into puddle if you let him be this sweat with you. And that was dangerous.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” You told him to distract yourself from some intrusive thoughts.

“I wasn’t planning to.” He admitted and helped you slip your foot in your so much more comfortable shoe. “But then I thought about missing you in this gorgeous dress.” And then he did the same with your other foot. “And I just couldn’t.”

For a moment you stayed like that. You watching him and wondering how he could be both so evil (at least in your opinion) and so sweet. And San with his hands on your body.

“Couldn’t let another man have you.” San ended up saying as he slowly stood up. His hands didn’t part with you. No, they travelled from your ankles to your legs, to your thighs, hiking your dress in the process causing goosebumps all over your body. “You know why?”

You did know why. Or at least, you could easily guess what he was about to say. You asked anyway, “Why?”

San’s smile went from gentle to wicked and you had no doubt you were in (kind of delicious) trouble. One hand possessively held your waist, the other reached for your hair. His hand tangled in your hair before pulling harshly – a desperate moan escaped your lips. “You’re mine.”

You expected a possessive and dominating kiss. You expected some teeth clashing and a fight for dominance. Instead, he pressed his lips against yours. Softly. Gently. His mouth melting against yours. And so did you. You went completely soft in his arms.

Boy was trouble and there was no escape for you.

Back to present

Despite your rocky beginning, San was probably one the sweetest human being you had ever met. It pained you to admit it but you could no longer hide your feelings behind your hostility. He was gentle and caring. Every little gesture, every little thing he did for you without you expecting him to do, made your walls crumble and your heart yearn for him.

Two months ago,

The advantage of creating your own company with your friend, meant you were the one to decide how to dress, without anyone criticizing. If you decided to come to work in your pajamas the only look you would get would be a shrug from your friend. Which exactly was your case today.

You were exhausted and your body ached. Everywhere. You had San to thank for that. And maybe also yourself. You weren’t planning to provoke him or be a brat, but the temptation was too strong, and you paid dearly for that.

You tried to shake off the image of you under him, sweaty, panting, trembling, begging for him to let you come, your hands tied to the bed with his belt, your skin red and covered with marks. His marks.

You tried to forget the image of him nestled between your legs, digging his fingers into your skin as he teased you. As he feasted on you. Endlessly. Mercilessly. He pushed you to the edge for what felt like hours but never letting you come. No matter how much you begged. How much you cried. Because San had learnt everything about your body. He knew how much you could take. And he showed you.

You groaned and slammed your head on your desk. How were you supposed to have any work done today if you couldn’t concentrate?

“Cute office.” As if summoned just by your mere thoughts, San commented.

Startled, you almost fell off your chair, letting out a little, and very unflattering, yelp. You gawked at him, completely taken off guard and embarrassed. “What the hell are you doing here?” You didn’t intend to sound so hostile, but your tired brain was not cooperating.

San only chuckled and walked inside your office confidently. It was unfair that you looked so not composed and tired while he looked so handsome and relaxed. There was no justice in this world. Or maybe he wasn’t a human (which, in your opinion, would explain a lot). “Plushies, really?”

You cleared your throat and tried to compose yourself. So what if you had a few plushies scattered all around your office? To some it seemed childish, but really, they were the best moral support you could ask for. Plus, they were cute. “Yes. They keep me company.”

“Aren’t you full of surprises.”

You chose not to comment. Instead, you watched him closely and finally noticed what he had brought you.

San followed your gaze and smiled. “I figured you’d need some coffee after the night you had.” And he looked too damn proud when he said those words.

You huffed but couldn’t ignore the smell of coffee as he got closer to your desk. Whatever embarrassment you had felt previously vanished as he set the cup on your desk.

You slowly reached for the cup, eyes not leaving him. “For your information, I feel perfectly fine.” You were not.

San laughed at your poor lie. He sat at the edge of your desk and hovered over you. “You’re a terrible liar, love.” He pointed at the lovely, red mark around your wrist.

You hurried to pull at your sleeve to cover the mark, but San grabbed gently your wrist and brought your hand closer to him. You thought he wanted to inspect and admire his work and probably tease you and remind you why you got tied in the first place (news alert: you couldn’t keep your hands off him when he specifically told you to be a good girl and not touch him). He did none of that.

San peppered your wrist with kisses, the warmth of his lips tickled your skin. At this gesture, butterflies erupted in your stomach. He had absolutely no right to be this gentle and sweat with you. You wanted to argue and tell him to stop but your mouth refused to cooperate. Your whole body (the little traitor) surrendered to him.

Whatever game the two of you were playing, you were now convinced, you wouldn’t come out unscathed.

Back to present

Gently you reached for his face and pushed back some strands that fell over his eyes. You realized, in that moment, that you had made your choice. You could stop running.

Because San was worth the risk.

***

San was no longer in the bed.

You stared blankly at the empty spot before slowly reaching for his side, patting the spot. It was still warm. You rolled to his side and pressed your face to his pillow, inhaling his addicting scent. You still couldn’t believe that you had stayed the night. But oddly enough, now that you had admitted to yourself that there was no avoiding San – it felt nice.

It felt right.

A tiny smile spread on your face. When was the last time you felt so satisfied? So in peace? So happy? You couldn’t remember and maybe because it had never happened before.

Lazily, you threw the blanket off your body and got out of bed. You grabbed San’s shirt from the nearest chair and put it over your body. It was tempting to just walk out of his room naked and tempt the devil, but your body ached in reminder. There was no way you could have another round.

The moment you stepped out of his room, you easily guessed where to find him. A delicious smell was spreading in the hall. San was making breakfast and your stomach grumbled in response and delight. You had the privilege of trying his food. Once. You smiled at the memory. He had promised to take care of you. And he did.

He always did.

One month ago,

You had been told many times that you were a stubborn woman. You would love to refute this statement but sadly, it was true. Today was just another example of your stubbornness. You were sick, coughing for your dear life and a little feverish. But did it stop you from working from home? Absolutely not. Bundled up in your fluffiest blanket, a cup of tea with honey on your table, you pushed your limits. Didn’t matter that you received at least ten messages from Yeji, threatening you if you didn’t get any rest. You laughed at her attempt, even when she threatened with sending you San to deal with you. You didn’t really think she would reach him. Could reach him.

That was your mistake.

Music in your headphones you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings. And why would you in the safety of your home? Why would you when you lived in a friendly neighborhood, without stories.

Until you felt strong arms around your body.

Until your heart missed a beat.

You screamed, as loud as your lungs allowed you to while being sick.

You fought for your life, kicking, and screaming as the intruder lifted you from the couch as if you weighed nothing. It was a sad way to go, you thought, alone, at home, looking like a mess in your damn pajamas. You could already imagine the headlines.

Or maybe you wouldn’t die. Maybe, whoever was holding you tightly against a very solid torso, wanted to kidnap you. It was better than death, right? Right?

“For someone supposedly sick, you have too much energy, love.”

Your body froze instantly at the warm and friendly voice.

You knew that voice.

You loved a little too much that voice.

You opened your eyes and gawked at a very amused San. He shook his head, smiling fondly; his dimples on full display - your hand hitched to poke his cheeks.

Realization dawned on you.

One, you should definitely not underestimate ever again Yeji’s threats.

And two, you were not going to die today. Except maybe of embarrassment. Your face heated up in embarrassment and you buried your head into his chest, trying to hide, trying to forget the very unlady scream that had left your mouth.

San laughed softly and pressed his lips against your forehead. “It’s okay. I promise not to tease you about this little incident.” Seemed too good to be true. San never forgot about your embarrassing moments. Never. “For the next few days at least.”

“Knew it. Asshole.” You cursed under your breath and slapped his chest for good measure. Not like it hurt him anyway but you felt a little better afterwards. You cleared your throat, “How about you put me down now?” Thought for a second and quickly added, “And maybe explain why and how the hell did you get inside my place?”

San huffed in response and pressed you a little tighter against him. “Why? Isn’t it nice? In my arms?”

“No. I hate it.” You lied through your teeth.

In fact, it was more than nice. Too fucking nice.

It felt right.

And safe.

San was warm. And gentle. And smelled too damn good. You forced your body to obey and not to move. You forced yourself not to rub your nose against his neck. It worried you a little how badly you wanted to do it. Your fever is the reason. That’s why.

San laughed heartily at your blatant lie. “Yeah sure. Whatever floats your boat, love.”

Your ego demanded that you defend yourself but any words you were about to say died on your tongue as San carried you straight to your room. It was his first time at your place and yet he looked like he belonged. That was another worrisome thought.

“Wait-“ You protested at the sight of your bed. Your brain finally caught up with his intentions. “I’m not staying in my bed!” And you wriggled in his arms. You didn’t mind if he dropped you (what a little pain right?), but there was just no way you would go back to bed when you have lot to do.

“Yes, you are.” San threw you on your bed, making you squeal in the process.

You recovered quickly, glaring at him as angrily as you could manage, ready to jump out of the bed. San pushed you back with one hand. One, strong enough, push and you fell right back.

“Don’t even think about it.” He warned you. “I’m glad to know I’m not the only one you refuse to listen to.” There was no doubt he was referring to Yeji but you ignored his remark (and took note to curse your friend later for not minding her damn business).

“Yes. You’re not special.” You grumbled and pulled the blanket over your body. You refused to admit that being in your bed felt nice, your body instantly melting in your sheets.

“YN.” You winced at the use of your name. San almost never used your name. He loved using different pet names that most of the time pushed your buttons (and yet they grew on you). Hearing your name coming out of his mouth brought very unwanted feelings. “You’re a stubborn little thing, but it’s okay, I like it.” He hovered over you and brushed few strands of hair from your face. “Be a good girl and rest. I’m going to take care of you.”

Back to present

You thought you couldn’t take another round. Well that was your thought before finding San in the kitchen.

Fuck my life.

If you thought that San in a suit was hot, this San in grey sweatpants and shirtless and cooking was a sight you would never forget. Who cared about breakfast when you had such a sweet meal right in front of you? And who cared that your body was begging you not to jump on him?

To hell with food. You had a better idea.

Without making any noise, you approached him. You pressed your lips to his shoulder, then to his back, enjoying the taste of his skin on your lips. You expected to startle him but San only chuckled and glanced over his shoulder.

“Hello love.”

You only hummed in response, too busy peppering his back with kisses.

“Food is almost ready.” You bet San knew exactly what kind of meal you wanted and yet he played pretend.

You hummed again while your hands travelled from his shoulders to his arms, hands to settle then on his hips. Before you could explore further, San grabbed your hands and turned to face you, trying to look stern. Nice attempt, you thought. But his eyes betrayed him.

You batted your eyes innocently but refused to let go so easily.

“You won’t stop, will you?” He asked, resigned.

You licked your lips in response. San let go of your hands and you smirked in victory. Slowly you lowered yourself on your knees. You grabbed his pants along with his boxers and pulled, freeing his cock. Your mouth watered at the sight of your prize. Long and thick and begging for attention.

You grasped him with both hands and stroked. Slowly, gently, taking your time. You savored the feeling, the moment. The power you had over him. You loved letting him take control over you, but you also delighted in watching him come apart because of you. Because of your touches, your mouth, your tongue. There was just something so hot, so sexy, watching him throw his head back, his eyes closed, lost in his own pleasure.

You pressed your thighs a little tighter, feeling just how easily you got wet and you had barely touched him yet.

Slowly, you licked his cock. Up and down, savoring the taste of him. His hips bucks in response and you hid your smirk. It was game on.

You slid his length down your throat, moaning at the feel of him inside your mouth. San was thick and long and hard and you still weren’t fully used to him. But who cared? A little challenge was always welcoming. You took him as far as you could – your eyes watered.

“Fuck, kitten.” He groaned as his hands sank into your hair, grabbing tightly. You moaned around him in response, loving the slight sting of pain. “You’re so good to me.”

You usually weren’t but you didn’t correct him. You also didn’t tell him how much you wanted things to change between the two of you. But it was okay, you had lots of time before you. And right now, the most important thing for you was to please this beautiful man, this lovely and sweet human-being.

You bobbed your head and licked and sucked, confidently, eagerly. With every swirl of your tongue, his grip on your hair tightened. You bet he was trying hard not to let go and just fuck your mouth.

Every little groan, every pants only fueled your own desire. You were yourself so turned on you fought the urge to slip your hand between your legs and take care of your own needs. Not this time, come on.

“Just like that.” He encouraged you.

You moaned in response, eyes blurry with tears as you stared back at him. And what a sight. San chocked. He was barely holding on. You so eager, teary, your mouth full of him.

Your mouth and hands worked in tandem. You increased your pace, sensing he was so close to his release. And you wanted it. You wanted him to come down your throat. You wanted to show him you could be a perfect, little girl if given a chance.

“YN-“ He warned you and tried to push you off him.

You didn’t budge. You held stubbornly and let him explode with a roar inside your mouth. He watched you with bright eyes as you swallowed everything. He watched as you slowly released him and licked your lips, glowing in delight and satisfaction.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” But despite his words, he smiled. He grabbed your arms and lifted you from the floor. You barely had time to recover, his lips were already on yours. Sweet, gentle and yet also demanding. He parted your lips with his tongue and deepened the kiss, tasting himself on your tongue, moaning into the kiss.

You melted in his arms, into the kiss. This was the best morning ever and you wished you had done it sooner. How many mornings like this did you miss because of your own stubbornness? Because you refused to admit how you truly felt? It was ridiculous and you punched yourself mentally for that.

San pulled back. He held your face between his hands, staring more seriously at you. “You stayed.”

Oh. Maybe you were about to have the talk after all. “I did.”

If San was frustrated with your answer, he didn’t show it. Ever the patient man. He simply nodded and stroked your cheek. Slowly. Lovingly. His eyes never left yours. “You never did before. Why now?”

Your heart beat loud and strong inside your chest, you bet he could hear it too. “I-“ Why was it so hard to be honest? Why was it so hard to confess how you truly felt? It shouldn’t be. Not with him. And yet, you couldn’t formulate a proper answer.

Fortunately for you, San saw through your struggle. “Let me tell you this, YN. I want it all. I want you. Your heart, your body, your soul and everything you’re willing to give me.” And there, the dimples were back as he smiled at you. “I want your smiles and your lovely giggles. I want your anger and your tears. I want to spend my days and nights with you. And I want to wake up by your side every single day. Do you want it too?”

There was only one possible answer and as he finished his confession, you couldn’t help but give him the warmest smile you could muster. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“I want it very much.”

#ateez smut #ateez #san #san smut #choi san #ateez x reader #san x reader #ateez fluff #denial

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jenscx · 6 months ago

Text

LOVE ME BACK — yu jimin

after a nasty breakup with your boyfriend of two years, you find solace in a bar and a mystery woman’s arms. you were convinced it was just a one time thing. yet, you didn’t expect to see her again at your workplace.

TAGS — fluff, lowk crack, suggestive themes, mentions of sex and alcohol, ceo!rina, office au, reader has a boyfriend (at first), hwang hyunjin as plot device, mentions of cheating, probably a hr violation, jealousy, hidden relationship, cursing

WORDCOUNT — 10.3k

when you were younger, your dream was to be an astronaut. now in your early twenties, you’ve succumbed to the average 9-5 job that every adult hates. your job was a pain in the neck, figuratively and literally. staring at a computer all day was tough work, but if you said that out loud, you would seem like a lunatic.

your hands dance bleakly across the keyboard, fingers tapping insistently to finish the report. maybe you would even get home on time today. a vibration from your phone distracts your focus, a message from your boyfriend.

staring at the notification, you sigh and pick up your phone to text back. it’s a chain of messages, ranging from urgent calls to angry scoldings. your eyes narrow as a call comes in, displaying, hyun ♡.

“hyunjin oppa,” you whisper, “i’m at work.”

“you’re still at work? i thought i told you that my sister’s visiting today? my mum’s cooking for you.”

groaning internally, you reply softly, “i’m really sorry but this report will probably take half an hour more. tell unnie and auntie i’ll be late.”

hyunjin’s voice rings through the phone, irritated, “i told you about it. did you forget or are you just not willing to spend time with my family?”

“i didn’t forget, seriously, and you know i love your family and your mum’s cooking.”

that’s kind of a lie. you weren’t really welcomed with his family. his mother had objected to your relationship from the get go. his father was cold and indifferent. his sister was the only one who actually talked to you. but his mother’s cooking was good.

“you’re prioritising your work over spending time with me,” hyunjin states.

“i made this clear from the start,” you pinch your nose bridge, “my job always comes first.”

his annoyed tone shines through, bright as day, “i don’t get why you’re still working at that firm. i can provide for the both of us.”

you sigh, frustrated at hyunjin’s insolence.

“i enjoy this job,” a lie, “i don’t want to just stay in my apartment all day with nothing to do and i worked hard to get here.” true.

“that’s why you should just move in with me.” with that mother of his? no way in hell.

“i like my apartment,” you say firmly, glancing at the unfinished report open, “oppa, if you’re just going to scold me, at least do it later. i’m working now.”

“you’re always working. how can you work so much? y/n, are you preoccupied with something else? or someone?”

anger bubbles lowly in your veins.

“what on earth are you saying?”

“i’m saying that you may be busy with someone. whatever, if you’re always working, let’s just end things here. i can’t always be waiting for you at home.”

“you don’t make time for me either. on my off-days, you always hang out with your friends. how many dates have you cancelled?”

“i’m sorry i have a social life. my life doesn’t revolve around spending time with you. if you have a problem with it, let’s break up.”

you roll your eyes. you would be amused at how a 24 year old would think so irrationally, if that 24 year old wasn’t breaking up with you right now. your hand forms a fist on the table. maybe hyunjin was fine with lazing around at home, letting his mother serve him like a maid. but you weren’t. hyunjin didn’t have any ambitions, dropping out of college after his first year, claiming it was too difficult. you had only cooed at him gently, his first and only year at college was when you met him and started dating.

“fine. let’s break up as you wish. ask yeji unnie to pack my things at your house, i’ll pick it up—”

the call ends abruptly, you’re baffled at his childish antics. groaning, you throw your head into your hands. was your two year relationship really ending here? over a phone call? tossing your phone to the side, you perk up, determined to take your mind off your boyfriend. you still had a job to do after all.

yet, the thought of losing the two years you’ve spent with hyunjin makes you frown. he wasn’t a bad boyfriend. he was a nice guy, most of the time. he was a man after all, he had his stupid moments. spending two years with him meant that some part of you actually liked him. maybe not to the extent of love. you’ve never thought about it.

is that why he broke up with you? because you weren’t in it for love? was hwang hyunjin just another guy for you to past time with? if you couldn’t find love with a guy like hyunjin, who’s good looking and well-mannered, who could you find love with? were you some emotionless robot who didn’t care for others’ feelings?

forcefully removing these persisting questions from your head, you focus on the report. missing fabric, wrong dimensions, plagiarised designs, what was wrong with this fashion company?

“sunbae, still not clocking out?” kim minjeong, the new intern and coincidentally, your junior from high school, peeks above your computer. you shake your head, smiling sheepishly at her, “don’t call me sunbae, I’m ms seo right now.”

minjeong pouts, “sorry, i’m just not used to it. and you’re only like, a year older. want me to wait for you?”

you eye the report with distain, grimacing, “it’s okay, minjeong. you can go first, i think this will take a long time.”

the younger girl nods and quickly leaves. you’ve never wished you were someone else so badly before. your eyes follow minjeong from her cubicle to the lift. you slap your cheeks, willing yourself to focus.

after a few excruciating long hours, you clap your hands merrily, eyes gleaming with excitement and happiness. the stupid report was finally finished! you hum happily as you pack up your things. once you had picked up your bag, a notification graces your phone.

swiping up, it’s a text from yeji, warning you that hyunjin had left the house urgently. concerned, but not panicking, you reply saying that maybe he went out for fresh air. yeji’s next few messages are about how their mother is blaming you for hyunjin’s bad mood.

whatever. you can’t find it in yourself to care.

still overjoyed by the fact you had finished the mundane report, you head down to the lobby, grinning. a few employees who were still there eyed you weirdly but you brushed them off. today was a good day, despite stupid hyunjin.

as the doors open, you bring out your phone. no new messages from hyunjin or yeji. maybe it was partially your fault for making promises you couldn’t keep. ugh. the late night graces your presence, streets filled with busy cars. you check the time, 8pm. you should take your mind off hyunjin. and what better way to do so than to go get drunk?

you quickly text yizhuo, who’s probably also drinking right now.

seo y/n [8.26pm]:

are u at jiwoong’s bar?

i just ended

ning yizhuo [8.27pm]:

how’d you know?

i’m drinking with chenle

come unnie

chenle? you furrow your brows. wasn’t he that super rich kid who yizhuo plays video games with? ah, whatever, you seriously need to get drunk now.

swiftly hauling down a cab (honestly, props to you. calling a taxi at night was basically war), you make your way to the bar.

it’s a relatively new establishment, furnished with matte dark oak floorings and a sleek marble bar. it was the closest bar to your workplace, making it a common meeting area for you and your co-workers. normally, during the last day of each month, team manager kim would bring you to go drinking. you push at the doors, the sight of two figures yelling at each other greet you. usually, you would have ignored it. it’s a bar, it’s common to have drunk people fighting. yet, when you squinted closely, realisation struck you.

“hyunjin?” you gasp, “what are you doing here?”

your ex-boyfriend swerves around, eyes blazing with fury as yizhuo curses at him.

“where were you?” he demands, “i texted you multiple times.”

you turn on your phone, grimacing at the countless messages.

“it was on silent mode. if you want to talk, let’s go outside, don’t disturb the people here.”

yizhuo attempts to follow but you just hold a hand out. if hyunjin hurt yizhuo, you would never forgive yourself. besides, this was something you had to do alone.

begrudgingly, hyunjin agrees and exits the bar. out in the street, you take note of his dishevelled self.

“why’d you decide to come here? i know you’re here to find another guy. who is it? i’ll fucking kill him,” hyunjin seethes. you notice the slight flush in his face. was he drunk?

unable to remain passive, you say firmly, “hyunjin, you said you wanted to break up. now that i’ve seen you, let’s break up.”

“are you fucking serious?” he asks incredulously, “i came all the way here to find you and you are the one breaking up with me?”

you retort, “you are the one who said you want to end things. if i found another guy, so what? we’re not dating anymore.”

your last few words hit a nerve. hyunjin’s hands fly out to grab your arms, furiously digging his fingernails into your wrists.

“i’ll fucking kill you if you leave me for another man, don’t test me seo y/n,” he growls. disgusted, you try to escape from his hold. being taller and a guy, he’s obviously stronger. you feel your skin breaking at the edge.

“let go!” you grit your teeth, trying to pry his fingers off. he relentlessly grips on, even managing to avoid any attempts of your escape.

slow, steady footsteps approach. you notice the look of anxiety on hyunjin’s face. what would this look like to an outsider? his grip doesn’t lessen however. the figure opens the doors, raising an eyebrow.

“what the hell are you looking at?” hyunjin snarls. your eyes fly to the stranger. it’s a woman, thank god.

despite your current predicament, you can’t help but admire the woman staring at you. her face was sculpted by the gods; dark, deep, hypnotising eyes, a tall nose bridge, red, full lips that formed a thin line.

“why are you assaulting a woman?” god, you could just die hearing her voice. husky and intimidating, hyunjin was practically quivering in his feet.

“i-i’m not doing anything! you’re the one staring at us, bitch.”

her eyes narrow and she scoffs, “did your mother teach you any manners? i was just concerned for her safety,” she gestures to you, “it seems as if you’re holding her here, unwilling to let go.”

“i’m not doing jackshit.”

your eyes bore into her, calling out for help.

“ah,” the stranger inches closer, fingers trailing from your shoulder to your arm. you shudder at her touch. she smirks, “why don’t you let her go now? or should i call the police on you, hwang hyunjin?”

hyunjin’s face turns red. nervousness grows at the sight of his anger.

“how the fuck do you know my name?”

she tilts her head, reminiscent of a curious puppy, “oh, don’t you know who i am? tell your father if his son acts up again, we might not continue our deal.”

“how do you know my dad?” hyunjin yells, “and what deal do you have with him?”

“i’m your father’s biggest business partner. how would he feel if he found out he lost his company because of his idiot son? or would you want me to reveal some of your own secrets? what’s her name, jiyeon?”

your eyes widen at the mention of hyunjin’s ex. he had broken up with lee jiyeon months before meeting you. why was this stranger bringing her up again? and how did she know so much?

hyunjin glances at you, “don’t you fucking dare.”

by now, hyunjin had let go of your hand entirely. the stranger just sighs dramatically and stares at her fingernails.

“hyunjin-ssi, you really have a knack for being a public nuisance. i just wanted a drink, and my precious evening was interrupted by you screaming. ah, should you really be concerned about your ex-girlfriend finding a new guy? haven’t you already done so while still in the relationship?”

in a second, hyunjin lunges for the stranger. his hands fly out to grab at her hair, but she manages to dodge the sudden attack. frowning at hyunjin, the stranger finally scoffs, “you’re pathetic. don’t you dare touch my clothes, they’re designer. leave now before i call the cops on you.” despite his anger, hyunjin actually looks spooked and quickly stomps away. thank god. she swats off the imaginary dust on her shoulders and turns to you.

in contrast to before, she sends a small smile, “you did a good job breaking up with this idiot.”

“thank you for saving me.”

she shrugs, “it’s all right. he was being a nuisance.”

“i’m sorry…” you ask, “but how did you know so much about hyunjin?”

“i deal with the hwang group. i have met his father on several occasions. sometimes, he has to clean up his son’s mess. most of the time, he can’t do it alone. hence, he finds us,” her smile turns into a grimace, “i apologise that someone like him has been taking advantage of you. i assure you that hwang hyunjin and park jiyeon will be taken care of.”

“no, it’s okay, i kind of had a feeling already,” you hesitate to reach out to her, “uhm, can i know your name?”

the stranger adjusts her clothes; a black pantsuit. your eyes trail down from her face to her luminous black hair. they follow the shape of her jawline, sharp as a knife, down to her collarbones. you unconsciously swallow your saliva.

“you can call me jimin,” she says, taking a piece of card out from her pocket, handing it to you. your eyes skim the details. yu jimin. nothing else is on the card except for a phone number. “what can i call you?”

“y/n, seo y/n.”

“if you find yourself in another situation as such, i will do my best to help, y/n.”

you can’t believe a woman like her is pledging her assistance to you.

unable to control yourself, you blurt out, “what can i do to repay you?”

jimin’s eyes form into slits, crinkling into a devilish smile.

“what are you insinuating?”

everything around you is soft, pillowy and warm. except for one. the incessant buzzing of something. it snaps you out of your reverie. groaning loudly, you throw your hand to reach out for the device causing the vibration. your fingers hit an unfamiliar surface. since when did you have a bedside table this close? eyelids fluttering open, you regain consciousness.

“what the hell?” you say out loud, sitting upright in bed. your phone lays beside you, its buzzing unable to distract you from what you’re seeing. white silk sheets covered your bare body, which was littered with bite marks and hickeys. it trailed on from your neck to the dip in your hips. lingering bruises were left on your thighs too.

oh fuck.

you were screwed.

grasping your phone, you scan the room for your clothes. finally catching sight of your scattered clothes, you gently pick them up, face turning red at the sight of your well-marked body. your purse and belongings are littered all over the floor as well. a disgruntled groan emits from the bunched up blankets. it’s only now you realise there’s a person below it, snoring peacefully.

wincing at the slight soreness in your lower body, you gently throw the duvet cover off you and slowly put on your clothes, afraid of disturbing the sleeping woman. taking one last look at the bed, a mop of black hair contrasting the pale serene face below.

running your hands through your hair to comb the mess, you rush out of the bedroom. the sight before you leaves you in awe. whoever this jimin person was, her apartment was amazingly furnished. whatever, you shake your head before you could be further distracted.

there’s countless messages left by yizhuo, all inquiring about your whereabouts. shit. you forgot to tell her. after assuring her that you were alive and not kidnapped, you quickly navigate your way back home. surprisingly, jimin’s modern apartment wasn’t far away from yours, despite the contrast between the two homes. you could infer accurately that karina was some wealthy bachelorette who held power. between her penthouse and the conversation with hyunjin, she was probably a high rank in the business industry.

after reaching your house, you take a much needed shower and slip into a white button up blouse and a black pencil skirt. this was your usual office attire. thankfully, as you had finished the looming report the previous night, you didn’t have to get to the office early. finishing up with some light makeup, you head out satisfied. the soreness in your lower body serves as a constant reminder of the activities you took part in. at least you didn’t have a hangover.

entering the lounge, you spot your colleagues all conversing with one another. minjeong seems to be in a heated debate. your eyes dart to the figure standing by the counter.

“good morning, ms seo,” you bow when team manager kim greets you. kim gaeul, two years your senior, and somewhat of a friend.

“good morning,” you reply. gaeul is sipping on the coffee from the cafe opposite. she gestures towards the paper bag on the counter, “there’s a latte in there for you. good job on the report, i read it this morning.”

you beam at the manager, “thank you so much.” desperately, you chug the latte, relieved that you had caffeine in your body to survive the day ahead. gaeul stares at you in amusement before clearing her throat, “now that everyone is here, i would like to announce that a new ceo will be coming.”

there’s some mutters and murmurs of confusion.

“our current ceo will be resigning,” gaeul says, a fixed smile on her face, “hence the need for a new ceo. she will be here shortly. at ten, please gather in the meeting room so she can introduce herself to all of us.”

you check the time, it was forty past nine. the new ceo will be coming soon. was there enough time to get any work done before she arrived? probably not. you sit down next to minjeong on the couch. she catches you mid yawn.

“sunbae, did you get enough sleep?” your ears blush at the memory of what happened.

“maybe i didn’t sleep well,” you say. minjeong nods, a look of pity on her face, “you must have gotten home late because of that report.”

you scratch your neck, “yeah, i got home pretty late.”

“maybe you can take a quick nap? you still have twenty minutes, i’ll wake you up.”

shaking your head, you chuckle, “it’s okay, minjeong. i’ll get through the day. at least team manager kim got us all coffee.”

despite your words, you find your eyelids fluttering close every second. maybe you should really take a nap. the events of the previous night had left you incredibly tired. breaking up with hyunjin was emotionally draining, whereas jimin… you rid the thoughts from your brain. it would serve you no good to be thinking about her right now. she was just a helpful woman who you repaid by sleeping with. at least it was enjoyable. you certainly enjoyed the feel of her warm body against yours. even before you start to reminisce, minjeong jolts upwards and exclaims, “time to go meet the ceo!”

the rest of the group follows suit, heading towards the lift. you wearily drag yourself to follow along, an arm looped through minjeong for support.

“y’all think she’ll be pretty?” a voice rings out from the crowd.

“aren’t most ceos like forty years old?”

“women don’t expire past the age of forty, mark,” you retort. mark only smirks, “maybe she’ll be a hot cougar.”

you roll your eyes at his words, yet you can’t help but imagine what the new ceo would be like. would she be intimidating? confrontational? you just hope she won’t be unreasonable. god knows you need a break from this absurd company. the only good thing about it was its pay and the people you work with.

“quiet down everyone,” gaeul says, “she’s coming soon, please be on your best behaviour.” she shoots a look at the rowdy group of guys nearer to the back. you try to inch closer to the front, the denial of your curiosity itching at you. despite your tired state, there was still some interest in the next ceo. “there she is!” minjeong whispers loudly.

your head flies to look up, mouth agape as your eyes bore into the woman’s frame. under the exquisite fabric draped over her, you could still sense her elegance. the way her steps echoed against the tiles, commanding everyone’s attention. your heart drops at the familiarity.

oh.

oh no.

below her bright red, glossy lips, resides a beauty mark.

you remember your own lips moulding against hers from the night before. the feel of her burning skin on top of your equally desperate body. her lingering touches, fingers tracing down from your collarbone.

“she’s pretty,” minjeong blurts out. you nod.

she was a goddess, aphrodite incarnated. you distinctively recall how sweet her words were, how her voice toned down to a husky drawl, whispering the things she would do to you. a shiver runs down your body, you clench your fists. how were you getting riled up over a memory?

your eyes follow her as she turns to face everyone. her face remains impassive as she addresses the crowd, “i am your ceo, karina.” cold, narrow eyes flick through the gathering, eventually meeting yours. if anyone else had looked closer, they would have noticed the shock in the way her eyes widen ever so slightly. yet, she swiftly regains herself.

“please do carry on as usual,” she says, you can’t believe she’s the same person as the jimin from last night, “i will be conducting a meeting later. do not be late.”

as her footsteps recede, you let out an exhale of breath. having her eyes on you made it hard to breathe, she literally took your breath away. minjeong eyes you curiously, but the crowd quickly disperses, sensing that karina was not to be messed with. they would rather get back to their jobs than deal with an angry ceo.

after heading back up, you finally sit down on your office chair, finding it more comfortable than usual. normally, it felt like it was forcing your spine in the most unnatural way. yet, after that interaction with jimin, you found solace in it.

“guys! ceo wants everyone in the meeting room now!” gaeul’s head pops out from the room, hurriedly gesturing for everyone to come. you reluctantly rise and walk to the room slowly. jimin’s already standing inside, a stony look on her face as she analyses a file of papers, presumably reports.

once everyone had entered and were settled down, jimin places the file back on the table, eyes roaming around as she says, “this company will collapse within a year’s time if i did not take the offer to buy it. hence, starting from now, there will be extreme changes.”

you take a gulp.

“first of all, we have to start investing more of our time into doing trade and business with others. isolating ourselves and believing that we can become successful without the help of others is idiotic,” jimin explains, “we should take the initiative and with someone like me at the helm, this company will flourish.” she hands out an assortment of papers around the room.

“this will tell you everything you need to know about your duties as an employee of this company. do take the time to read through thoroughly. i assure you with such a strategy, no one will need to work more than they have to.”

you can see some impressive looks from your colleagues. jimin was definitely a strong ceo, you already knew from how well-connected she was. yet, this would be your first time seeing her work ethic in action.

“everyone is dismissed. however,” jimin turns back around, eyes gleaming with mirth, “seo y/n, i want to meet you in my office.”

every inch of you freezes up. you sense some curiosity lingering around your colleagues, especially minjeong who offers a comforting pat on your shoulder. jimin’s lips form a devilish smile, akin to the one you saw previously. you sigh, already regretting all life choices thus far.

the door closes shut behind you. jimin sits down in her luxurious and pristine office chair. you kind of envy her.

a moment of silence passes before jimin speaks, “i did not expect to see you here.”

“neither did i,” you answer back. her appearance was a shock.

she chuckles slowly, “after leaving me in bed alone, with no note or anything, should i fire you?”

your eyes widen. what the hell? wasn’t this an abuse of authority? she couldn’t fire you that easily, right? over something that wasn’t even related to your job!

“you seem to not be able to finish your job, seo y/n,” jimin spins a fountain pen between her fingers. your gaze darts from the swirling pen to her face. indifferent, yet a hint of amusement.

“i assure you i am a hard worker and the night before is not related to my work ethic,” you reply.

jimin laughs, “do you not know how upset i was when i did not feel a body next to me? my sheets tidied up neatly, clothes gone and not a single hint of you left behind.”

“last night was a one-time thing,” you state firmly, “it will not happen again as i intend it to.”

the ceo’s eyes rake down your body, seemingly turning into satisfaction as she smiles, “you do not intend for it to happen again?”

“i… thank you for saving and helping me with my ex-boyfriend, but you’re my boss now and it’s probably a workplace violation.”

“so it is not because you do not want to, more so you feel that you are not allowed to,” jimin bluntly says. she’s right. you would like to indulge in the pleasure she provides once more, and continuously, but she’s your boss.

your silence speaks of your answer.

“it is unexpected that we have met under these circumstances. i won’t lie and say that i’m fine with forgetting about the night we spent together. huh. i wanted a date… yet, if you insist…”

jimin stands up from her desk, staring at the city skyline. you stare at her hooded eyes in the reflection of the window panel.

“you may leave,” she smiles, “but do call me karina and not jimin in front of others. they do not know my real name.”

you nod, unsure how to reply. were you meant to feel special that she had so willingly spared her real name to you? with others not privy of her name, you were the only one. jimin closes the door firmly behind you. you’re greeted by the sight of an anxious minjeong and a smirking mark lee.

“what did she say to you? and how did she know your name already?” minjeong asks hastily.

“just talking ‘bout work,” you answer smoothly, “we have a mutual friend.”

mark, bless him, adds on, “she’s prettier up close, right?”

“yeah,” you reply, cheeks reddening. you were well acquainted with her beauty by now, finding yourself momentarily starstruck.

“must be nice having the ceo know you,” minjeong says, sighing. you smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. was it really a blessing?

no, of course it wasn’t. you slept with your boss. unintentionally, in fact. you head back to your desk, hands almost ripping out your hair as you gaze at the closed door.

what have you gotten yourself into now?

you’re annoyed. irritated. angered. all because of your ceo. jimin doesn’t do anything outlandish, no. but she throws a mountain of work onto you. and only you. her previous promise of no one having to work more than they need to is out the window. you can only scoff, ashamed that you truly believed she would let you leave by five. however, it seems that jimin is rather petty. every time you snap back with a remark, she just smiles and places one more report on your desk a few minutes later. it’s maddening. was she not abusing her power?

the stack of papers on your desk feels never ending. compared to your colleagues, it’s clearly taller. even minjeong had commented about it. if the sudden increase of workload wasn’t enough, jimin also demanded you to do the most trivial things, such as fetching her coffee, shredding papers… did she not have enough money to afford a personal assistant? you were just an employee to the company. after bringing up your concerns to gaeul, the team manager merely shrugged, saying she could not do anything against the ceo. and it wasn’t as if jimin was outright abusing you. she was so clearly just messing with you!

(“you’re joking,” you gape at the pile of paperwork jimin was carrying to your table.

“how is this a joke to you?” jimin asks, a stern look on her face, but the small grin she wore betrayed her facade.)

this wasn’t any different from your life before the new ceo came. honestly, it might be worse. you had more work than ever, overtime was becoming a necessity in your life, and jimin just gets to prance around. you seriously had to take the initiative to discuss this, because what on earth.

finally deciding you had enough of jimin’s antics, you stand up from your desk, leaving the heaps of papers undone. determined, you take long strides, arriving at the door of jimin’s office. some of your colleagues eye you weirdly but they don’t make a sound. you just ignore them. not even knocking, you open the door. if jimin notices your presence, she doesn’t show it. her face is buried in a file, eyes darting from the report to the computer screen. you swallow, drawing courage from every fibre of your being.

“i need to talk to you.”

jimin’s head shoots up, an eyebrow raised. her bangs are parted today, no longer hovering over her eyes. the first few buttons of her black blouse are unbuttoned, revealing her carved collarbones. a pair of thick, black framed glasses rest on her sharp nose.

“about?”

“you’re messing with me,” you state.

the ceo stares. she looks rather dishevelled today, you wonder why.

“interesting. how did you come to that conclusion?” she asks, placing the file back onto her desk, her eyes fully focused on you now. trying to not get hypnotised by her forceful peering, you voice out, “you’ve been giving me more work than others. you always find some excuse to make me do stuff. i’ve worked here for three years and you’re making me an errand girl.”

it’s true. it feels like she’s just giving you filler work to do. there hasn’t been any improvement at all.

“i… i thought you would be different,” you admit, “different from our previous ceo. but it feels like nothing has changed. i’m still working overtime with no end in sight and it feels even worse than before.”

jimin doesn’t say a word. it’s the first time you’re saying this to anyone, your true feelings. jimin had made such big promises at the first meeting but after two months, there really wasn’t any change.

“i give you more work because you’re more capable,” jimin explains, a grim look on her face.

“that doesn’t excuse the fact you literally demand me to run around and make you coffee.”

“i can’t deny, that was for my personal amusement.”

your anger flares up, “see! you’re messing with me!”

“your reaction is funny,” she reasons weakly, “it’s really… i didn’t know it was taking a toll on you. i just wanted to see you get annoyed. you look cute when you’re grumpy.”

the previous frustration simmers down completely at her words. cute? was it appropriate for your boss to be saying this?

“what?”

jimin looks away shyly, a stark contrast to her intimidating facade, “i’ll try to restrain myself from now on… but i would like to talk to you about something as well.”

your curiosity is piqued. jimin’s face turns dark, her eyes narrowing as she asks, “are you and mark in a relationship?”

a gasp escapes your lips, because what the fuck?

“no, ew,” you instantly say, “mark acts like a kid.”

“so you have no romantic feelings for him?” jimin repeats.

“no, none at all.” somehow, you know why she’s even asking in the first place.

jimin frowns, “so why were you touching his face that day?”

you remember it vividly. mark was showing you the netflix movie, ‘365 days’ and stating that you could recreate it with jimin. he was joking with you, but you still got flustered. minjeong had been laughing so loudly it attracted the ceo to come into the break room. she has witnessed your hands grabbing mark’s collar, in the midst of threatening him.

“he was just saying something weird,” you mumble, not exactly willing to tell jimin she was the cause. the ceo nods. you can’t help but like this jimin slightly more than the brooding one. she seems more vulnerable today. more gentle and soft.

“okay,” jimin smiles, wider than usual, “you can leave now.”

you bow, slightly happier that the ceo was understanding of your concerns. maybe now you would get home on time, not that you had anyone waiting for you though. after your break up with hyunjin, you had increasingly found more alone time. sometimes you would spend the night with yizhuo, cooking dinner together. most times you would reach home and immediately fall asleep.

content with the meeting, you leave her office, bouncing back to your desk. the stack of papers feel considerably lighter knowing her true reasoning behind piling so much workload on you. perhaps she had more faith and trust in you. that made you feel proud.

a head peeks out above the partition.

“what did the boss talk to you about?” minjeong asks. you wave a hand at her, brushing her words off, “nothing really. karina was just telling me stuff about my job, giving comments, y’know.”

minjeong nods and ducks her head, returning to her work. you do the same, the weight previously resting on your shoulders significantly lighter. the day doesn’t seem so gloomy anymore.

you carry on typing with a small smile. unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes gaze through the blinds.

jimin stays true to her word. despite the heavier workload, your heart feels lighter that she acknowledged your ability. it doesn’t bother you anymore that minjeong and the rest of your colleagues can leave instantly while you stay for a bit longer to refine some finer details. deeply engrossed, you don’t notice the sudden pattering of raindrops splashing against the windows. and you definitely don’t notice the light in jimin’s office still on.

stretching your arms, you yawn, intending to go home. yet, the moment you start packing your bag, realisation strikes you that it was raining. raining heavily. as you try to decide your next move, the door to jimin’s office opens.

her head peeks out, a frown on her face as she calls out, “why are you still here?”

“i was doing something and i just lost track of time,” you explain. jimin’s head tilts. you internally coo at the similarity of her to a puppy.

she takes one look outside and asks, “how are you going to get home? don’t you take the bus?”

you scrunch your nose, trying to think of a way to return home without being caught in the rain but with no avail.

“no idea,” you shrug, “i might call my friend to pick me up or something. not sure if she’s busy though.”

jimin takes long strides towards you, “i can drive you home.”

your eyes widen considerably, “no, it’s really okay!” you don’t know what you would do enclosed in a small space with her without other people around. she looks extra delectable today as well. usually, her hair is neat and proper, but today it’s slightly messy and her bangs are swept to the side, exposing her forehead. she still wears the pair of attractive black glasses and she’s adorning a navy pantsuit today.

“as your boss,” jimin smiles, “i need to ensure that all my employees are cared for. i can’t have you coming to work sick, can i?” you can’t really fight her logic there. it makes sense, she wouldn’t want you to get sick because she would lose manpower. yet, the explanation digs a hole in your heart.

she’s your boss.

you glance at the rain splattering.

“okay. take me home.”

jimin’s smile widens. you walk together in silence to the elevator. only the soft humming of her voice fills in the gaps. the silence stretches on till you reach her car as well. it’s only when you try to enter the backseat, jimin says, “what are you doing? come sit here.” she pats the passenger seat. you follow her instructions like a dog with its owner.

as the ceo starts up the car, you notice small details of it. it’s clearly expensive, no doubt. the sleek leather you were sitting on just speaks for itself. jimin had an air freshener hanging from the mirror, the strangest thing was that it was a dinosaur smelling of vanilla. she had a small shiro, the dog from shin-chan, figurine posed on the dashboard. you quietly giggle at the cuteness of it all. jimin having adorable items accessorising her car was such a stark contrast to her distant and cold persona as your boss.

“that’s cute,” you point out. jimin glances at what you’re pointing at and her cheeks redden, “ah. do you like shin-chan too?”

“uh,” you blank out, “i guess so? i like boo.”

jimin beams.

“that’s amazing,” she says with all the sincerity in the world, “let’s watch shin-chan together someday.”

it’s a strange proposal, no doubt. but you find yourself nodding too soon. the grin you receive from jimin is well worth it though.

“you can key in your address here,” she hands you her phone. as you type, jimin continues talking, “i broke off my deal with hwang by the way. has he contacted you at all?”

you shake your head, “no, but his sister has been texting me. apparently he’s very disoriented and is always drunk. he got into a scandal recently for starting a fight at another bar.”

jimin sighs, one of bemusement, “i truly wonder where such men get their audacity from.” you giggle at her words.

“honestly, hyunjin is childish and immature but he’s a good guy,” you confess, “i don’t know why he suddenly turned into someone like that.”

the ceo falls silent. you wonder if you said something wrong. maybe you offended her in some way. gulping, you distract yourself by watching the scenery of urbanised skyscrapers.

“you’re giving him too much credit,” jimin says, “he’s always been like that. he’s just a good actor.”

“really?”

jimin nods firmly, “of course. and did you really like him? or did you just like having him around?”

you debate on answering. wasn’t this too personal for someone’s boss to ask? your eyes swerve to watch jimin’s grip tighten on the steering wheel, her small hands showing white knuckles.

“there’s many things that are mistaken for another, such as liking someone and liking the idea of them.”

“what other things are you talking about?” you ask, genuinely curious.

the traffic light turns red. jimin presses on the brakes, a smirk plastered on her face as she turns to you.

“like finding someone good-looking and attractive. i know i’m good-looking, but am i attractive to you, y/n?” she leans forward, her face inches away from yours. your eyes unintentionally trail down to her lips before snapping shut and turning away.

“don’t leave me hanging,” you can hear the damn pout in her voice. a warm hand leaves a fleeting touch on your arm as she pulls you to look back at her again.

you resist the urge to throw yourself out of the car.

“the light’s green,” your voice comes out almost as if you were constipated.

jimin lets out a hearty laugh.

“we can settle this debate back at yours, don’t you think?” your hands clench by your side, neck strained to crane your head away from looking at the delectable woman.

“i don’t think that’s appropriate,” is what you end up saying. jimin shrugs. your eyes are drawn to the smooth expanse of her hands that rest against the steering wheel, and the way her knuckles unintentionally flex when turning.

“we’re far past appropriation,” she states, amused.

shrugging, you stare at the outside scenery instead, ensuring that you wouldn’t be salivating at the sight of your boss.

jimin hums to the music playing in her car. you roughly recognise it as a song from the pokemon anime ost. somehow, it’s totally believable that this domineering boss could also have a silly and endearing side to her. it was yu jimin after all.

“what are you thinking so hard about?”

you.

“work.”

“what about it? is the workload too heavy for you?” the concern in her voice makes you want to puke.

you shake your head.

“i’m just thinking… about that day,” you decide to answer truthfully.

jimin tilts her head, “what day?”

“you know…” it comes out in a hushed and embarrassed whisper, “that day.”

either jimin’s stupid or she’s just playing dumb. she stares at you, confused. you make some inappropriate gestures with your fingers, until she lights up in recognition.

“that day?” she repeats teasingly.

it’s not like you can ask her for a repeat of that day. you had literally stated outright that it was a one-time thing. she was your boss, for god’s sake. if you slept with her again, you would be breaking all sorts of violations.

“…it was nice…” your cheeks redden, “that’s all.”

the smirk on jimin’s face is unbearable. thank god you’re not the one driving, or you would have gotten a heart attack.

“want to do it again?”

your face gets undeniably hotter. redness flushes through your entire body as you cower.

there’s a moment of decision-making.

was it worth the risk to try again with jimin? for some reason, you know you’re past the phase of attraction. it’s pure interest for her now. you’re not sure if your heart’s fully beyond lust, but there’s something lingering that feels akin to adoration. there’s no doubt that you find jimin extremely good-looking, but like she said before, there was a difference. it’s unfortunate you’re attracted to her as well. maybe she already knew your answer, that’s why she didn’t push for you to reply.

(it would be a resounding yes.)

but jimin was still your boss. what if people in the company found out? they technically couldn’t do anything since jimin was already in the highest position, but if you had to suffer questioning looks and backhanded remarks from them, about how you achieved this job by sleeping around, it would break your heart.

and you don’t want a repeat of hyunjin. you don’t know if you’re ready for another relationship. at least now you’re aware you can actually feel things for others and you’re not some emotionless robot.

but something about jimin pulls you towards her. like two opposite poles of a magnet. there’s something so endearing yet mysterious about the girl that makes you want to try.

“we’re here already, i think my friend lives nearby here,” jimin says as she looks around. she’s parked along the road, your apartment just a few metres away.

you gulp, murmuring softly, “jimin.”

the ceo turns to you, like a little cat.

“can we try dating?”

jimin’s eyebrows shoot upwards, shock evident on her face. after all, you had rejected her not long ago.

“really?” she can barely contain her excitement.

“uh, yeah,” you’re a little uncomfortable with the way she’s staring at you so intensely.

happiness was coursing through her veins. jimin had never expected you would end up giving in. she had a whole plan in her head— first, get you riled up and then convince you to sleep with her again. her second phase consisted of insanely good aftercare that would definitely draw you in into her amazing personality. the last phase was just playing hard to get and making sure you wanted her badly. it seems like she skipped most of the steps. whatever, it doesn’t matter since she got the same end result.

“okay!” jimin beams.

you stare at her stunned.

“uh, so we’re dating now, right?” you repeat.

“mhm!”

her compliance makes you want to jump on her.

“let’s set some boundaries first, okay?”

jimin ponders for a bit before stating confidently, “i have no boundaries! you can do whatever you want.”

it’s a little riveting having her agree with whatever you say. her natural submission is jarring. you laugh, “that’s okay, but i have some rules.”

“go ahead!” jimin’s gazing at you, her eyes wide and rapt with attention. you hold out your hand, pointing at each individual finger, “one, no pda in the office, i don’t want to give people an opportunity to gossip.”

she nods. it would be hard to continue dating if people kept invading your privacy.

“two, we have to keep this a secret,” you continue, “and three, we’re not official yet okay? just dating for now. let’s take it slow.”

“mhm sure.”

“four, don’t call me any nicknames in the office, i’m just seo y/n and you’re karina.”

jimin smirks lazily, her hand resting against the wheel, “you’ll be yu y/n soon.”

“jimin,” you groan at her sleaziness.

“go on!”

you list off the final rule, “five, no special treatment just cause we’re dating. i don’t want people to think i’m getting more opportunities to do well just because we’re dating.”

the ceo blinks.

“okay.”

“okay?”

she hums, content, “yeah. i’m fine with all that.”

you breathe out shakily, “that’s good.”

“mhm. you should get going now,” jimin smiles, “it’s late.”

“right, okay. uh, see you tomorrow?”

the ceo tilts her head, a wide grin on her face, “see you tomorrow, baby.”

your face flushes red.

“jimin.”

“we’re not in the office!”

dating jimin is wonderful. she’s the sweetest and most caring girl on earth. everytime she does something even remotely romantic, you’re swept off your feet. despite your insistence to take it slow, you had only resisted at the start. now, after weeks of dating, you succumbed to jimin’s puppy eyes and begging.

wrapped in her embrace, you snuggle into the crook of her neck even deeper, breathing in her cologne.

jimin only tightens her arms. if it wasn’t for the fact that it was extremely comfortable, you would have complained that she was strangling you.

“baby,” she whispers, planting haste pecks all over your face.

that had been a recurring thing. you realised soon after the first week, jimin loved calling you baby. sometimes you wondered if she forgot your name and called you baby to hide it. the girl, obviously, denied it.

“hm?” your voice comes out muffled.

“you look really cute like this.”

you couldn’t disagree more. adorned in an old oversized sweatshirt that was literally disintegrating by the second, messy bed hair after the nap you had just taken, and a bare face that probably had drool all over.

meanwhile, jimin’s wearing a calvin klein hoodie with little boy shorts that exposed her bare legs. your own legs fitted nicely against hers, tangling your bodies together on the couch.

“i won’t get to see you tomorrow,” jimin says out of the blue.

“why? do you have something going on?”

the ceo groans heartily, “my friends want to have dinner together.”

this puts a frown on your face. originally, you had planned a cute little date for the two of you.

jimin, observant of your turmoil, only runs her fingers through your hair comfortingly, “i know, baby. but we don’t always get this chance. and it’s just dinner! just this once.”

you nod your head, burrowing further into her embrace. jimin only sighs happily, her hand trailing down from your head to your back, rubbing circles repeatedly.

“what are you wearing then?”

“maybe that dress that you really liked? or maybe a random pantsuit.”

you know which dress she’s talking about. an ivory coloured, strapless dress that accentuates her collarbones nicely.

“wear the pantsuit.” something about other people being able to see jimin in that dress doesn’t sit right with you.

a chuckle escapes her, “didn’t you say you liked the dress?”

shrugging, you reply nonchalantly, “don’t want anyone else seeing you in it.”

silence. then a high-pitched squeal.

“y/nnie, you’re so cute!” your head is dramatically pulled back from jimin’s neck and you come face-to-face with the ceo, who’s cooing at you incessantly. she plants multiple pecks all over your face whilst squeezing your jaw tightly.

“jimin!”

the girl finally pulls away from covering your face with kisses, but if it weren’t for her bright red lipstick, she would have seen how underneath all her kiss marks, your face was splashed with maroon.

“if you come with me, then can i wear that dress? i really want to wear it,” jimin pleads.

it's a fair deal in your opinion. you could spend time with her and being able to see jimin in that dress was just a plus. it just leaves the problem of jimin’s wandering hands. even in your office, her hands seem to have a mind of their own, constantly roaming around places they shouldn’t be. like how when you were brewing coffee one morning, jimin had snuck up behind and rested her hands on your waist, whispering a quiet greeting. thank goodness no one else was in the lounge. that surely would have started endless amounts of rumours.

“but we can’t kiss or hug there okay?” you reply, deciding to make a trade-off.

jimin pouts, but she ends up huffing and then nodding.

“just stay by my side. i’ll restrain myself.”

well, that turned out to be a lie.

despite her previous promise of keeping her hands to herself, they somehow ended up entangled in your own. one of her hands lingers between your shoulder blades, and in the car ride to the restaurant, it trailed down to the small of your back. you had scolded jimin for that.

even now, jimin still ensured she was somehow touching you. the restaurant was extremely high-end, evident from the menu which didn’t even have prices on them! you had gone through culture shock with that.

the table was surrounded with people you assumed held equally sophisticated titles, some of them stared at you with curiosity, probably wondering why a newcomer had arrived.

there were a few empty seats, but jimin had informed you that some maybe couldn’t make it, as always.

“so,” one of the extremely gorgeous women had cleared her throat, “are you going to introduce the lovely woman you’ve brought with you, karina?”

jimin smiles as her hand comes to lie on your arm, where your elbow is.

“this is y/n, she’s my colleague,” jimin says, a practised answer. you try to muster up a smile.

“i’m giselle, or aeri, nice to meet you, y/n,” the woman drawls, her tone full of mischief and she had that twinkle in her eyes that reminded you of jimin when she’s about to tickle you.

“how has ceo life been treating you? we haven’t heard from you much,” another woman asks. you notice how cat-like this woman looks. she had beady eyes that were laser-focused on jimin. there’s a chorus of agreement from the rest.

the ceo laughs, “it’s good. i’ve gotten to experience many things. what about the park group that you’ve visited, ryujin? are they still doing well?”

as the now named woman, ryujin, goes into a tirade about the park group, you take the opportunity to identify everyone. most of them were dressed to the nines, their hair all prim and proper, and not a speck of dust on their clothes. just from a quick scale, you could tell they were all extremely wealthy. you listen to ryujin speak while digging into the sirloin steak jimin had ordered for you.

“—and i actually met someone new recently, she should be arriving soon with her brother,” ryujin exclaims. the group chatters excitedly about her newest paramour, while jimin explains that ryujin had gone a few years without a relationship, hence the enthusiasm.

right as you nod, the door to the private room opens and two extremely familiar figures stride in and take their seats.

fuck. you think, unable to control the way your eyes widen. jimin shares the same feeling seemingly, with how she stiffens and a huff escapes her.

“this is hwang yeji and her brother hyunjin,” ryujin beams proudly, unaware of the tension surrounding the table.

“seo y/n?”

your eyes dart downwards, unwilling to face hyunjin. yeji only gasps, “what? oh my gosh, y/n!”

you grit your teeth as hyunjin laughs loudly, “what are you doing here?”

jimin’s hand slithers down to yours, encasing it in a tight but comforting grasp.

ryujin’s head goes back and forth and the table’s filled with surprised chatter and questions.

“how do you guys know each other?”

hyunjin beats you by answering, “she’s my girlfriend.”

what?

you wince a little at how jimin only grips you even more firmly.

“you are?” ryujin exclaims. yeji sends you a sympathetic look, but before she even says anything, aeri interrupts.

“are you a two-timer?” she accuses, eyes blazing with fury, “aren’t you dating jimin?”

your head snaps towards jimin.

“uhm—” she splutters out, “i— okay! it just slipped out and i told aeri to play pretend!”

“what?! you’re dating her?” hyunjin suddenly barks. you groan, wondering why you even got involved with these people. they were all insane!

“wait, so who are you actually dating?” ryujin finally asks. you sigh, “i’m dating jimin.”

a scoff escapes hyunjin.

“you’re actually with her? i can’t believe you jumped into bed with someone else right after we broke up! i knew you were a slut from the beginning.”

a chorus of gasps echo from the table. you should feel saddened that someone you cared for previously was throwing insults at you, but you don’t feel anything. yet, the same couldn’t be said for jimin, who rises up from her seat abruptly, and tosses her glass of champagne at hyunjin.

“don’t talk about her like that.”

“are you fucking serious?!”

“shut the fuck up,” jimin seethes, “and don’t let me hear you utter her name from that filthy mouth of yours ever again.”

hyunjin’s hair down to his tailored suit, drenched in expensive champagne that is probably worth more than your apartment. you watch as his face turns an angry red, and you can almost see the steam coming out from his ears. his mouth opens to retort but he can only gape furiously.

“you’re pathetic and i pity the people that have to be in your company. you forget yourself. don’t you dare come into my sight. my eyes aren’t adjusted to the filth that you are.”

hyunjin stands up from his chair but yeji pulls him back down harshly.

“i can’t believe my girlfriend saw anything but a deplorable man in you.”

you’re left jaw-dropped. jimin grits her teeth before tossing you a look, “c’mon y/n, let’s go.”

she pulls you out of your chair and as you leave, you turn back, sending an apologetic look to the others at the table. aeri only guffaws and ryujin yells, “you didn’t pay for the food!”

jimin’s hand doesn’t leave yours, and you’re a little shocked at how quickly and agile she moves even in heels. your heart’s beating a mile, both from surprise and the adrenaline coursing through your veins. when you reach the car, jimin slams the door shut and she deflates in her seat.

“oh my god,” she says.

“oh my god indeed,” you parrot, still in awe of jimin’s reaction. it was crazy, but you can’t lie, it was attractive having her stand up for you like that.

she turns to you, “i can’t believe i just did that.”

“yeah, me neither,” you laugh, “this is the second time you’ve called him pathetic.”

jimin pouts, so unlike the girl from before, “he just made me really mad! holy shit, aeri’s blowing up my phone.”

you’re reminded of something that aeri slipped out.

“jimin,” you place a hand on her arm as she checks the messages, “so you told aeri about us?”

the ceo turns to you, eyes glistening and her lips pursed out cutely, obviously as an attempt to cull your anger, “i really didn’t mean to! please believe me baby. she just asked me why i was so happy recently and then asked if i was seeing someone and you know i can’t lie to aeri… so i told her about you and—”

“hey, calm down,” you chuckle at the way jimin’s turning red from how quickly she rambled. she catches her breath as her chest heaves, “i’m sorry. i know i broke the rule.”

“it’s okay, jimin. i’m not mad,” you reassure.

jimin’s eyes perk up, “really?”

“yeah, it’s fine. i think it’s really sweet that you stood up for me today.”

“i’ll always stand up for you, you know that right? don’t you remember my promise of helping you whenever?” jimin says earnestly. you smile at her cuteness and sincerity.

you don’t know what this feeling is. the chasing thrill every time jimin’s hands are on yours. the gleamy look in her eyes. the curve of her crooked smile. but it feels similar to love.

“jimin-ah,” you mumble. it’s the most unromantic place and time ever— jimin’s car, parked next to a gloomy lamppost, right after she had just poured champagne on your ex.

but because it’s with jimin, it feels perfect.

you can’t believe you ever thought of rejecting the girl prior.

“yes?”

“i really really like you,” you tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. it’s a shame jimin’s dress couldn’t be properly admired today with all the ruckus. but that’s fine, you had plenty of opportunities to do so in the future.

“i really really like you too,” jimin whispers, as if it’s a secret.

you grin, “you looked really attractive just now. i think you’re god’s gift to earth.”

“mhm. you’re perfect too,” she sighs dreamily, “i really don’t mind giving you my everything.”

it sounds like a confession of love. maybe it’s jimin’s own way, but you both know it’s too early, even if the feeling rivals the purest form of affection and adoration.

“i liked it when you called me your girlfriend,” you admit. jimin beams, “so can i call you my girlfriend? can i be yours?”

you nod shyly at how jimin phrases the question. it’s not whether you’re hers, it’s whether she’s yours. and it’s a barely noticeable difference, but it only makes your heart pound more rapidly against your ribcage.

minjeong likes her job. it’s easygoing and the pay’s good. her colleagues are all really nice too. it’s an enjoyable job. she especially enjoys the company of her sunbae from high school. but recently, despite minjeong’s annoyance, her senior has been spending more and more time in the ceo’s office, and not at her desk. the usual conversations between them had gone so quickly and minjeong missed her sunbae’s presence.

she wonders if the ceo is holding you hostage. she’s seen the mountain of papers on your desk before, but she chalked it up to you just being an overachiever.

“minjeong,” her head lifts up, it’s mark lee and team manager kim gesturing at her to come over. their behaviour is strange, minjeong immediately notices, huddled in a corner of the lounge and whispering conspiratorially.

“what’s up? is something wrong?”

manager kim shakes her head and instead asks the damning question of, “do you think y/n and our boss are hooking up?”

what!

“uhm,” minjeong mumbles, “i don’t know?”

mark only nudges minjeong’s shoulder, “wait till y/n comes out of karina’s office and just look at her neck. she might have a few hickies.”

minjeong doesn’t think so, but she agrees to be their lookout and she waits patiently for you to come out. once the door swings open, minjeong catches a glance of karina adjusting her blazer and your hands pulling at the collar of your blouse.

huh. that’s strange.

she trods over to you, a faux smile on her face as she says, “are you in trouble again? you’re always in karina’s office!”

minjeong watches as your eyes widen and you clear your throat, “y-yeah… we were talking about a report… i made a few mistakes.”

her own eyes trail from your face to your poorly hidden neck, where a few bruises reside.

suddenly, everything clicks into place. the frazzled look you always had, the way karina would come out all messy— and the hickies!

minjeong can’t control the words that come out next.

“oh my god— you’re fucking the boss?!”

#karina x reader #aespa #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #yu karina x reader #yu jimin x reader #jimin x reader

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