#he is. so handsome to me….and i was thinking of him and some other white dudes ive seen irl | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

screampied · 9 months ago

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❛ BON APPÉTIT, BABY! ❜ g. satoru

☆ sum. stupid ovulation week is approaching soon and out of nowhere, you get baby fever. you ask your sugar daddy for help but his version of ‘help’ is trying to get you pregnant.

wc. 5.1k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), praise, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy, implied multiple rounds, size kink, ōral (f! receiving), he makes out w your panties, overstim, major brēeding kink, nıpple play, spıt, impact play, petnames.

➤ sd! gojo masterlist.

fuck, these cramps never knew when to quit.

you were crawled up in a ball on the sofa, suffering in agonizing silence. you sigh, taking a brisk glance near the grandfather clock that sits beside satoru gojo, your sugar daddy’s glass cabinets. oh, you missed him. it’s been a few good months with him as his sugar baby and you felt like a princess—no, a queen. he’s showered you with many many praises, not just gifts but of course, that too. you’re so lonely in his mansion, but you wondered what he was doing right now. probably working, you knew how busy of a businessman he was, but you missed him. his smell, his presence, his petnames. whipping out your phone, you unlock it, skimming toward his contact. ‘toru’ with a pretty pink heart as his contact, you text him a sweet forward ‘miss you.’

not even seconds later, he replies, giving your message a heart. ‘Hi, sweetheart. i miss you too. being a good girl for me, yeah?’

with a pout, your eyes skim through his flirty words and you press the video call button. you couldn’t wait. . you needed to see him. satoru answers it, and as expected, he’s sat upright in his office. so handsome, his snowy white hair was ruffled yet neatly slicked back and parted. he wore the suit you picked out for him, the jet-black one with a tie that makes his pretty blue eyes pop. “hey you,” a raspy voice utters on the phone, and he’s snickering at how you’re just lazily slump on the couch, bored out of your damn skull. “put some clothes on, darlin’.”

“no,” you grump, although you did have clothes on. clothes that basically consisted of a thin sage tank top and panties. satoru was typing on his computer. you heard the quickness of his fingers typing away as he’s taking every few glances to look at you again. “come home, ‘toru. these cramps are killin’ me,” and you mumble the last part under your breath. “. . andiwantababy.”

it’s a long silent pause and he’s fully looking at you through the screen now. all that could be heard in the background was the screeching and beeps of his costly fax machine.

satoru’s got a glint in his eyes before his voice pitches, and he slyly hums. “oh, you want a baby, sweets? my, you really do need me ‘ta come home, huh.”

you squeeze your thighs together, positioning your phone to lie in landscape mode—you were still a bit sensitive from earlier, from touching yourself. as your breath excitingly hitches, you couldn’t help but pout again.

“ ‘toru, think ‘m havin’ baby fever or something,” and your words were oh so sweet. satoru’s sitting up against his chair, leaning up against his palm. the shine of his expensive g-shock glimmers in the light within each time he moves. “come home, please.”

“sweetheart,” he tsks, two white arched brows piercing together. he could never say no to you, he spoiled you so much . . not that he never minded either. you were his baby, and satoru playfully scoffs at your needy declaration. “you really can’t wait another hour? i’m almost done.”

“no,” you grouse, a cute glower stretching across your features, marinating as you speak. satoru chuckles at your bratty persistence, and you watch as he fixes his tie, lightly tugging on it.

“fine, fine,” he gruffs. “i’m coming, princess. wear that new designer set i bought for you, okay? ya know the one, the rose-gold?”

smearing your glossed lips against each other, you give him a nod. you ached for him, each second you spent on the phone was a constant reminder of how he wasn’t there with you. satoru found your clinginess adorable though. it was cute how you’d always text and call him while he’s at work. even if his responses were hours late, he’d always get back to you, sending you sweet ‘hi baby’ and ‘i miss you more, pretty,’ ‘s.

if you were feeling bold, you’d send him a few pictures of yourself in one of the many expensive custom-made sets of lingerie he buys you.

his favorite would have to be the ‘satoru gojo’ exclusive brand of lingerie for women, he literally bought the entire stock of all colors just for you.

“okay,” you mumble, already making your way toward his bedroom. a few of his servants and butlers were dusting away at furniture and his entire mansion was huge. it was spacey, you could practically get lost in it. as you stomp lightly, the bare soles of your feet slide against the glassy-textured floor before you glance down at your screen. “drive safe.”

“i will, sweets. see you soon, yeah?”

with a beep, the call ends and it’s just you trapped in your own silent thoughts.

as you made your way to the master bedroom, immediately, you’re met with the loud cologne scent of satoru. it’s enchanting, it’s always the same smell of cinnamon and spices. satoru gojo always smelled rich regardless. rich was his middle name. you dig through your walk-in closet he had made for you, fishing out the set he wanted to see you wear. it was dashingly pretty.

he bought the rose-gold set as a gift for your birthday, and even if it did hurt his pockets a lot, he never cared. anything for you—his pretty baby.

about forty minutes later, satoru returns home finally and he yawns, stretching his long limbs. you scurry to him, your head reaching just near the center of his chest and he lightly jerks back.

“hey baby,” he returns the hug, big callused hands roaming up and down your exposed skin. the lingerie fit you perfectly, displaying your curves and gorgeous physique. satoru buried his face into the crook of your neck, planting a soft kiss. “you’re so spoiled. i can’t always leave work jus’ because you miss me, y’know.”

“i know,” you let off a soft moan, his soft lips creating gingerly mushy traces everywhere near your skin. he was always so tender, nips of kisses slowly turning into flicks with his tongue. satoru’s left hand slowly snakes near your leg, raising it up before wrapping it around his slim torso. your ankle rubs against the burberry belt he wore. it clanks loudly and he then lifts you up. “s- satoru!”

“what?” he hums, leading you closer toward the bed.

you heard the playfulness in his tone, and he’s got you in such a firm grasp. his fingertips continue to roam down your soft skin, snagging against the laced fabric that wraps around your body like a christmas present. “god, you’re so hot,” he murmurs in a raspy tone, and you glance at his parted slick backed hair. it’s unkempt now, white strands and tresses running down his eyes. he lies you down on the bed gently, and that’s when he gets on top of you.

you gulp, meeting the eyes of satoru. pretty blue eyes, they’re always so mesmerizing to look at.

but this time, he’s got a more feral look in his pupils as they dilate. “sweetheart,” he whispers, using a thumb to caress the edge of your twitching lip. with the way you’re prettily sprawled all out like this for him at his very mercy, there’s so much he wanted to do. satoru’s eyes never leave yours, not for a single second. “do you really want a baby or is just the baby fever?”

“b- both,” you gasp, not even noticing his hand creeping down between your legs, parting them apart.

you moan, feeling his palm rub up against the outline of your panties. so soaked, satoru’s breath hitches at your sweet whimpers and he’s so close up to you. so close that his rock-hard boner presses up against you and fuck, it’s hard. a visible tinted bulge was sticking out the center of his slacks and it’s driving him mad.

the mental image of you with a swollen tummy, all plump and baring his child, it makes him groan. satoru’s had his fair share amount of sugar babies in the past, but none of them were you.

“such a silly little girl,” he huffs, a bit of humor in his tone. but not wanting to waste any time, he leans in, capturing your lips into a deep hungry kiss.

whiny moans pour into his mouth - he’s sweet.

the minty kind of sweet where you taste peppermint lingering on his tongue.

satoru kisses sloppy this time, gradually grinding his body against yours. it’s incredibly sloppy, not much passion and more-so filth—strings of spit tangle with each other, forming little lustrous cobwebs of saliva before he sucks on your tongue. his pretty white lashes flutter before he opens them, staring at you, grunting right in your mouth. his boner continues to rub off against your clothed pussy and his groans only grow louder.

“fuuuuckk,” he swears, smacks of lips ringing through his ears. it was something about you, he didn’t know what it was but you were addicting.

satoru starts to peel off the pieces of lingerie piece by piece. by peel, he’s carelessly tearing through it as if the entire designer set didn’t cost him an arm, a leg, and a fucking torso. but again, even with his pockets swollen and suffering because of you, he’d buy you the whole world if he could. well, he probably could. he’s satoru gojo. “sweets, ‘m gonna devour you.”

five words.

five words that constantly went on a loop in your head as satoru’s eating out your cunt like a starved man.

he was starved, it’s been hours since he’s seen you. as he’s delving his face right between the plush of your thighs. you moan, chomping the front row of your teeth down on your quivering bottom lip. fuck, he was just nasty.

merely seconds passed and he’s already slobbering over your pussy. strands and strands of glossy spit trickles from his lips and onto your folds. “ ‘toruuuu,” you whimper, relishing in the way his tongue curls all throughout your drooling core. he’s maneuvering all kinds of shapes and circles, even spelling all letters of his name on your cunt with his tongue. scarlet plump lips of his gently kiss near your labia whilst warm breath ghosts near your sappy slit. shaking all from his tongue, the bed grows rickety from your movements and you inhale a sharp breath.

your fingers get intertwined between his white locks of hair and you pull tight.

his head tugs forward into you and he grunts, swaying his slick pink muscle in and out of your cunt. “mngh,” he groans, and that’s when he sneaks a hand between your pried open legs.

you stare down at him as he’s devouring you whole, slurping everything out of you until he’s satisfied - and that won’t be for a good while.

it doesn’t take a while before he’s already completely pussy drunk.

satoru’s fingers slither near your pussy and as his flat tongue repeats to lap lap lap up your syrupy sweet juices, he pops inside a single finger.

an exasperated breathy gasp snatches straight out the back of throat before you immediately feel the mouthwatering stretch of his digits and it’s toe curling.

if it was one thing about satoru, his fingers were long, slender, and also very very thick.

with a single swirl motion he’s making with his finger shoved deep inside, you’re already at the verge of breaking. crumbling because of his sloppy tongue. his fingers could stretch you out just as much as his cock could.

satoru even had you keep your panties on for him. the same panties he bought you as a gift.

a gift where he collaborated with victoria’s secret, your panties had both of his infamous initials bedazzled on the front and back. god, every time he traces his tongue over the tiny little beads, it drives him crazy every time.

you drive him crazy.

his flat laid tongue teasingly licks at the silk fabric before it turns into a whole raunchy make out sesh. pretty white lashes flap as he’s slurping everything out of you, missing no spot.

he couldn’t afford to, not when you tasted this good.

“we’re a ‘lil squirmy today, huh,” he snickers, feeling your weak thighs writhe because of his tongue.

it felt so good, the way he’s casually slurping you, eating your pussy as if it was the last thing to devour on earth. such raunchy sloshing sloshes cry out from your cunt and he groans. your fingers remain tangled in his hair, yanking on his messy tresses before he flicks his tongue against that spot.

it’s soft and spongy, and with the help of his long fingers curling and scissoring in and out of your sopping pussy, you let off a candied three-second shriek. “oh, darlin. found it, did i?”

“fuck, ‘toru,” your body falls back against the silk pillows.

multiple wanton whimpers slither from your lips as he’s continuously toying his tongue against your g-spot. it seemed as if his tongue was helping with your cramps entirely. such pressure builds up in your body and you were just so hot that you felt like you were gonna explode. “gonna cum, fuck fuck.” you’re babbling out pathetic cries that fall deaf to his pointed ears. satoru hums in smug amusement, jaw feeling tight and locking but he doesn’t care.

he was feeling pretty exhausted from coming back from work but just a single taste of your pussy and suddenly, he was energized once again.

ironic.

his two fingers continue to swivel around inside your gripping walls as your body slumps into the mattress in lewd defeat. satoru grunts, grinding his boner against the edge of the bed to calm himself but you made it so hard.

you made him hard.

as he’s luxuriating in this eagle view of your legs prettily laid up for him, he’s merely knuckles deep.

you can barely stay still and the bed’s staring to grow rickety. satoru’s speed of his tongue doesn’t falters, and as he’s slurping every drop from your sappy folds—you let out your final elongated moan. it’s long, your legs erupt dramatically and shake within his hold before you’re finally cumming. it drags for a long time and you’re just nothing but hysterical.

overwrought with emotions and pleasure, your legs finally collapse—as if they weren’t already basically limp, you exhale deeply.

“fuck, fuck fuuuck,” you repeat, watching with hazy murky eyes as he pulls your panties back toward the center with his teeth. satoru licks up your sweet saccharine-flavored juices that seep out from you, savoring the honeyed taste on his tongue before you pull on his hair . . hard.

“tsk. watch the hair, girl,” he warns you, still being cheeky and playful.

your cunt embarrassingly twitches once he makes eye contact with you again. satoru sits up, his entire chin coated with nothing but your slit. its a stream of it and it’s pretty. it was just the way it trickles down and he laps the crevices of his lips with his tongue. “so cute,” he murmurs, and he closes the gap between you both. as satoru feels your trembly legs wrap around his waist, he pulls you into another deep passionate kiss.

you moan right into his mouth, lazily tossing your arms over his broad-built shoulders before feeling him yank your panties down your legs and ankles.

satoru’s body was hot.

he still had his business attire on, and he feels your hand slowly removing his tie. your other hand runs down his tux, sliding inside the center to feel his washboard chiseled and hiding underneath the piles of formal work clothes.

“such a needy ‘lil thing,” he whispers gruffly between kisses, chuckling once he sees the forming pout tweak against your swollen lips.

satoru rubs a thumb over you lip before his crystalline-colored irises meet yours. the silence was cold, he’s got a wolffish smirk compressing against his lips before he mutters right near your ear. “now, let’s give ya that baby, sweetheart.”

saying ‘baby’ was an understatement.

with the way satoru was about to fuck you, he planned on giving you triplets.

maybe even more, and the constant rambles of how little ‘ole you was stuck in his mansion all day with baby fever did something to him. oh, poor thing, suffering with cramps all day. it was the end of the world. to you at least it was. but like the loving sugar daddy he was, satoru figured he’d do his best to ease your little ‘problems.’

“gimme that pretty arch, goooood..” he purrs, using a hand to rub down your exposed back.

satoru groans—his formal trousers / pants were pulled down to his ankles and he’s staring at your pretty ass. so cute. he watches with a carnal glint in his eye as you position yourself, gnawing on your lip and the bars of your enclosure. the anticipation was about to bury you six feet under.

his leaky tip slowly smears and bedaubs against your dripping clit and you whine. your hands, clammy and all, roughly grip onto the richly-made sheets.

his tip was fat, it’s got a glistening swollen head that’s teasing you. satoru’s breathing grows shallow once he sees your pussy cutely trying to swallow. “fuck, please,” you croak, desperate for him to go inside. he always does this—everytime.

right before he’s preparing himself to fuck you raw, satoru smacks his bulbous cockhead against your sappy weeping folds, hearing your sweet little cries grow unsatisfied. all you could think about was having him breed you full . . over and over and over again, you didn’t just want it, you needed it.

you needed him.

“relaaaax, sweet thing. ‘m comin,” a chortle dies from his throat as he feels you trying to wriggle your hips.

you’re impatient, and once he’s fully aligned, he’s finally dipping his weighty cock inside your perfectly tucked folds.

suddenly, your needy whines stop and they turn into whines of rapture. satoru trails a big hand toward the cusps of your ass, tracing down the cute curvy curvature of your body before your skin’s met with a rude swat.

you moan as he’s easing himself inside your gummy walls, stretching you open even more than his fingers did. “atta fuckin’ girl. let me in, biiiiiig stretch, there we go.”

the stretch . . you’d never get used to it, never.

your stomach heaves once he’s reeling his hips in. “s- shit,” you kiss your teeth, your knees already buckling and becoming weak. satoru spanks your bare ass again just to hear those sweet yelps leave your lips. he’s so fucking big, it doesn’t take long before he’s bottoming out and you hear the welcoming ‘pop’. satoru groans once he starts to move, one hand holding onto your hip—another focused on your pretty perked ass. he likes this view, the view of his sweet girl arched over on all fours. satoru bites his lip as he starts to make delicious haste with his sharp keen hips.

“god,” his head throws itself back briefly at a certain angle.

already, white strands stick to his forehead with the help of his sweat substituting as glue. satoru’s voice shakes as his cock’s fully in, your clingy gripping walls were so warm and it makes his mouth water from the inside. “missed my favorite pussy so fuckin’ bad, so bad,” and you feel a few droplets plop down your back. satoru’s eyes rove over, watching you writhe again and he sheepishly snickers.

he was drooling.

“heh, sorry.” and he wipes his mouth with his wrist, the feral feeling pooling in his gut never fading.

you’re a mess underneath him, the second he starts to drill his hips into you—it’s over.

satoru’s stamina was always unhinged.

the bed croaks and groans from the constant shakes ‘n creaks it has to endure each second. the hinges were quite loud, you heard the rusty creaking wood that reverbs throughout the room. his cock continued to pound into you as his body’s on top of yours, in full sync with your own sloppy movement.

you’re whimpering, your head already being smushed against the pillow as the undersides of his thigh start to feel minuscule pangs. “toru, toruuu,” you mewl out in a melodic whisper. he’s hitting you deep, your glossed lips part into a circle before you huff.

each strike of his hips felt more precise and brutal. . you wanted more, you wanted to feel him more.

“i know, i know,” he coos, thumbs circling around your waist as he holds you in place.

satoru’s hips were so sculptured and sharp that they give you whiplash every time. he’s got such power within each salacious strike that it makes your head spin. every single stroke, you’re left stupid and speechless with your tongue already dangling out of your mouth. the room grew steamy within a span of a few minutes. it smells like nothing but pure passionate sex.

by now, your eyes were rolling toward the very backs of your sockets in utter elated pleasure. you’re seeing nothing but splashes of ivory black and white. “aht aht. c’mere, don’t fuckin’ run sweetheart,” his voice was as smooth as silk. satoru feels your unsteady hips trying to crawl away but he reels you back in. “nuh uh. take it, take it, take it, girl.” he groans, his heavy hanging balls thwacking right against your ass within each pivotal thrust.

the band of his platinum-colored watch rubs off against your skin again—he’s watching you jerk back against him. his cock was so full, he licks his lips at the thought of your pretty pussy and how you were gonna wring him dry like you always do.

“fuck me, fuck me ‘toru,” your whimpering words were repeating itself over and over as if you were a broken record. the pit of your stomach coils as each second draws itself out before he’s grunting gruffly. your cunt’s sloppy, coating his base with sheeny amounts and globs of slick. white hairs from his neat pubes stick against his skin and satoru’s now grinding into you. “ah, right there, ngh please.”

“thaaaaat’s it pretty girl,” he snarls in a raspy voice, feeling the fat smacking stings of your ass jolt backward into his pelvis. “fuck me right back, mhm. gimme this pussy, make me proud baby.”

as he’s whispering all sorts of praises and dirty words, you can feel yourself reaching your limit soon — it’s so close.

a fluttering sensation brews up inside your stomach before satoru suddenly groans. “fuck,” his cock’s wholly stretching you out to your elastic limit before it meets that same textured spongey barrier again. he knows right away because your knees buckle, your breath grows quicker, and you let off another surprised shriek.

right there, x marks the spot after all and he was constantly hitting his tip there until you let out cute shrilling screams.

“goddamn, ‘m gonna cum, sweets,” and his voice grows more shakier the longer he’s inside.

it’s as if time stood still.

the constant rotation of swiveling gyrations from each angle, each body has your head spinning like a merri-go-‘round.

you were probably looking a dumb cock-drunk mess. unkempt strands of hair were already flopping down your face and occluding your view of vision entirely. satoru pierces his white brows together before lightly shoving you further into the mattress. as you’re cutely arched forward with your ass raised up, he leans way into your back, wrapping a hand softly around the back your throat.

“gonna fuckin’ give ya twins. one isn’t enough, pretty girl. need that tummy swollen ‘n plump s- so bad,” and he inches his lips toward your spine, still pumping into you deep. “gonna make you my pretty ‘lil mama.”

as he continued to spoke, you whine as his cock plummets into your wet sopping cunt over and over. it’s to the point where your ears recognize the slapping sounds of skin. the squelches your wet cunt made had him groaning.

he’s breathing in huge chunks of air as he’s merely crushing you with his weight. as you both robustly rut into each other in flawless unison, satoru’s hefty weight that hovers over you anchors into yours, slamming further into you.

“fuck, don’t stop, hngh,” and your words were as shaky as your chattering teeth.

he couldn’t keep his hands off you, literally.

sweaty open palms paw at every part of your body. near your doughy tits, your ass—his favorite part, and even your pretty plush thighs that were nearly gluing together. “satoru, satoru, pleaseee.”

“mhm, sweets..” his voice tremors and cracks before a sharp gasp wretches out of him. out of nowhere, you feel his hips come to an abrupt stop and he groans loudly.

it’s so loud that it’s an almost bellowing roar, both of his ears clank at the blissful sensations. satoru grows quiet once he feels it, that familiar pressure that’s been stored full inside him for the longest.

he’s cumming, and it’s so much, a slimy knot shoots out and freely dribbles into your inviting swollen cunt and he chews the inside of his cheek. “fuck m- me,” he stammers, still holding both sides of your rickety hips.

the room’s filled with husky pants and skin slapping until he’s slowing down - velvety stringy ribbons spurt into you raw until he’s hoarsely panting like a dog at the sight.

he can’t stop staring. such a mess, but you’re his mess. god, the way it just leisurely trickles inside of you, spilling all down the sides of your jittery folds because it can’t keep all of it in. the sounds were even more filthy, sloshing squeaks feels the room and he goes quiet just to get a good enough listen. satoru came so much—so so much that it lasted for a plethora of long obscene seconds. as he’s trying to get over his orgasm, he’s still chewing at the inside of his cheek, his face growing flustered. his hips become strikingly sloppy and he’s basically humping you. “god, have my fuckin’ kids, sweetheart. ugh,” and satoru’s as prettiest as he’s ever been.

with his lip dragging from his teeth biting near the bottom, his eyes scrunch shut and white brows curl up. huffing out a big deep exhale, he’s sweating bullets.

his thick calves felt like they were on fire but he didn’t have enough of you yet. there was never enough of you. you had him whipped—he’s allowing you to milk him, relishing in the fact that your sweet cunt was just wringing him dry to the max.

satoru steadies your hips with his quavery hands, peering down at the masses of sweltering hot cum that drips down your legs and he grunts. “s- satoru,” you shiver, gasping once he pulls out only to flip you right over.

“not done. still got so much more ‘ta give my pretty girl,” he breathes, and it’s a feral look in his eyes. satoru raises your leg up slowly, his rings tickling against your bare skin. “lie on your back. i fuckin’ need more.”

satoru fucks you for hours.

any position you could even think of, he’s doing it.

both stacked bodies glisten with sheets of sweat as they rut back and forth against each other, fingers merrily intertwined. he’s determined to get you pregnant and your moans only fuel him. the rowdy snaps of his vigorous hips only grew stronger.

his stamina, you’re blinking, wondering if he’s even human. despite the drops of perspiration tearing from the sides of his face and his heaving long breaths, satoru showed no signs of fatigue.

he was drilling his thick cock into you again and again—giving you orgasm after orgasm.

your toes curl as you’re trying to keep up with him but it’s to no avail. weighty balls continue to rigorously slam into your core as you’re currently in mating press. the compressing weight of satoru melting against you makes you whine.

he’s so warm, and with the way he’s breathing down your neck, babbling how he’s gonna make you the most prettiest mommy in the world makes your cunt throb. “you’re so pretty like this,” he moans into your neck, his thrusts becoming weak yet again.

globs of cum dribble from your pussy as he’s right between your thighs, his cock springing up. he hisses at the feeling, feeling your arms wrap around his back. satoru groans at the twinge near his extensor muscles that flex.

you gave him scratches that ran all down his back. he pays for your weekly manicures just so you can paint his back with scratches with your pretty acrylics.

his pretty girl.

you’re a stammering mess, plugged all the way up with such creamy thin ropes and your body was already limp. with his dick still delved inside, satoru grabs your chin—pressing another kiss against your lips. you moan, twisting and tangling your balmy hot tongue with his before he presses a hand down on your tummy. you whine in his mouth, skimming your crumped up fingers down his little undercut.

satoru groans at the feeling of your digits toying with the back part of his hair. “s- satoru,” you speak between kisses in short gasps for air. your ankle brushes up and down his back and it makes him grunt - your touch made him weak. “ ‘m so full, fuck.”

“yeah you fuckin’ are, sweetheart,” he licks near your bottom lip.

satoru’s body was so hot against yours, even while he was fully milked out he was still stuffing you full. the sheets were a mess, but he didn’t care in the slightest. his cerulean-blue eyes rove down towards your chest before he leans down. you stare at him, panting—and that’s when he latches his tongue against your neglected tits.

so perfect,

he makes sure to lather viscous strings of saliva on both of them, including your sensitive perky nipples. “mhm.” he groans, feeling your fingers fish through his white tangled strands. he’s sucking on each of your breasts with the most stupidest pussy drunken grin.

after a few seconds, he removes his spit-slick lips, a string of saliva following before he gazes up at you. with a sly worn out gaze, he cups both of your tits with his hands, giving them a good squeeze. “aw. my girls are gonna be full of milk soon,” and satoru kisses near your chin, your forehead, your cheek, and then finally, your lips.

you return the wet sultry kiss before he abruptly pulls away, holding your chin. “can’t wait to be a daddy, darlin,” he says in a gruff drowsy voice. you watch as he gradually pulls out, moving his head down toward your bare tummy. satoru presses a kiss near your navel before his eyes stare right back up at you.

“now let’s wait for this pretty ‘lil bump, hm?”

7K notes · View notes

trashytracktales · 5 months ago

Note

Omg can you please write some smut with Lando about the FIA gala??? He looks so hot in that suit and I need something about it🥵😭 Maybe after the gala ended and they’re back to their hotel or they fuck while they’re on the plane back to Monaco.

The FIA (Feral Instincts Arise) Awards | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I knew there would be requests for this the second I saw Lando on that carpet. Bon appétit 😛

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𐙚 summary ──── It's the 2024 FIA Awards, and Lando and his girlfriend can't help but steal a moment of passion, unable to resist the tension built through teasing touches and glances during such a glamorous night.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, established relationship, teasing, mild public intimacy, smut, descriptive language, fingering, bathroom sex, swearing.

𐙚 word count ──── 3.2k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 14, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── I have nothing to say except that I am absolutely devastated that my role model and inspiration, Michèle Mouton has officially retired from her role as FIA Safety Delegate. I love her so much and will forever be grateful for the representation she provided for women in motorsport throughout the years. In other news, at least everybody looked so fucking hot last night.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

IT WAS PURE torture for her to see him up on that stage from the beginning of the evening. She’d sat in the audience, her heart swelling with pride and gratitude for being able to be by his side during this exciting stage of his life — witnessing his hard work, his wins, and his dreams becoming reality. It's more than she ever imagined.

As she watched him, she realized she wasn't just proud of his accomplishments, but thankful to be the one he comes home to, the one who gets to share these moments that will live forever in both of their memories.

Standing up to cheer for him, as Lando’s name was announced for finishing second in the Drivers’ Championship, was a natural reaction. The applause was loud, a mix of respect and so much admiration for her determined racer boy who had fought tooth and nail all season.

McLaren’s triumph in the Constructors’ Championship only added to the celebration, the team beaming as they ascended the stage to accept their award.

While the room celebrated them, all she could think about was him — her man, standing under the spotlights, looking impossibly handsome in his perfectly tailored black suit and crisp white shirt. He looked perfect, from his styled curls to his sharp jawline and sweet, nervous smile. She felt very conflicted, overwhelmed with pride and love, yet squirming with a different kind of heat every time he looked for her in the audience. The way his dimple appeared when he smiled, the casual confidence in his voice as he gave his speech, and the glint of determination in his eyes as he thanked the team for having faith in him — every bit of it was intoxicating.

Now, at the dinner table, the atmosphere has shifted.

Glasses of champagne catch the glow, sparkling like liquid gold, as conversations hum softly among the elite of the motorsport world.

Lando sits beside her, relaxed in a way only he can manage after such a long, eventful evening. His suit jacket is draped over the back of his chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms. He holds a champagne flute in one hand, the other resting lazily on her thigh beneath the table.

She can feel the warmth of his palm on her skin, his fingers flexing ever so slightly. It’s a casual touch — he’s sipping champagne, laughing at something Oscar just said — but the effect it has on her is anything but relaxed. Her heart races every time his thumb brushes against her soft skin, slow and intentional, almost like he knows exactly what he’s doing to her.

Her own glass of champagne sits untouched in front of her, her attention split between the conversation around them and the heat blooming under Lando’s hand. She tries to pay attention, nodding along while Andrea talks about some funny incident that happened in the garage during the last race of the season. But her thoughts keep drifting back to him.

She glances over at Lando, her breath catching at how effortlessly handsome he is, now that he’s more relaxed and in his element. The golden light softens the sharp lines of his face, making him look almost ethereal. But it’s the dimpled smirk that forms as he catches her staring that sends a shiver down her spine.

“Everything okay, gorgeous?” asks Lando, his voice low enough that only she can hear.

She nods, swallowing hard. “Positive. I'm just incredibly proud of you, that's all.”

His smirk widens, his thumb stroking her thigh with more purpose now. “You’ve said that already,” Lando murmurs, leaning in just enough that his breath brushes her ear. “But keep going. I like hearing it,” he adds, pressing his lips to her cheek.

She smiles, looking away, determined not to let him fluster her further.

However, Lando has other plans. His fingers trace unhurried patterns on her inner thigh, edging closer to the hem of her dress. The movement is subtle — nobody at the table would notice — but to her, it feels like her skin is burning. Her breathing gets heavier, and she shifts in her seat instinctively, her legs parting just enough under the table to grant him more access.

“My good girl,” whispers Lando, smiling against her cheek, then turning his attention back to the conversation.

Her heart skips at the quiet praise, and she shoots him a quick, warning glance, her eyes wide with panic.

Lando looks completely unbothered, taking part of the dialogue like he’s the epitome of innocence. The slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips tells a very different story, though. A secret one, that only they know about.

“Stop it,” she whispers through gritted teeth, her voice so low that it’s practically a breath.

Obviously, he doesn’t. If anything, her quiet protest seems to spur him on. The pads of his fingers creep higher, brushing dangerously close to the heat between her legs. She grips the stem of her champagne flute tightly, her knuckles white as she tries to take her first sip of alcohol of the night — at least then she'll have something to blame if anyone asks her why she got so flustered all of a sudden.

“Lando,” she warns, her voice soft but firm.

“Hm?” he hums, his expression completely neutral as he keeps his attention to Oscar, who’s recounting his Turn 1 incident from Abu Dhabi.

She bites her lip, willing herself not to squirm in her seat. She almost can not believe how shameless Lando is, then she remembers all the times he tested her patience when they were in public. At that, her free hand drops to her lap, fingers wrapping around his wrist in an attempt to still his movements. He doesn’t pull away, but he also still doesn’t stop. Instead, his thumb presses a little harder, a constant reminder of his presence.

“You’re squirming, baby,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with amusement. “People are going to notice.”

“Then stop,” she repeats quietly, her tone sharp enough to earn a quick, curious glance from Andrea, who's sitting across from her. She ends up forcing a small smile, nodding, then turning back to Lando.

He chuckles under his breath, leaning in just slightly so his words are for her ears alone. “But we’re having so much fun,” he teases.

Her body betrays her as heat pools low in her belly, and she can’t stop herself from shifting again, her legs spreading a fraction wider. Lando takes full advantage of the movement, his fingers grazing higher until they’re just shy of where she needs him most. She glares at him, her eyes filled with need and her cheeks burning when his fingers slide easily over her lace panties, pressing harder on her warmth. As a response, her body jerks, and she barely suppresses a gasp, her nails digging into his wrist.

“I hate you,” she mutters under her breath, her voice shaky.

His grin returns, and he tilts his head, finally looking at her again. His gaze is dark, heated, and he looks entirely pleased with himself. “No, you don’t,” says Lando, so sure of himself.

It’s a miracle she doesn’t combust on the spot.

Because he's right — she doesn't hate him, she hates the fact that they're in public and she's incredibly turned on, but there's nothing she can do about it.

Finally, she can breathe normally when he withdraws his hand from between her legs, just as casually as he’d started. Her body is still buzzing with the lingering traces of his touch as she places her hand lightly on Lando’s shoulder. Slowly, she rises from her seat, her fingers squeezing just enough to send him a silent message only he’d understand.

At that, Lando’s heart stutters for a beat, his mouth suddenly dry as he watches her glide gracefully toward the bathrooms. The way her dress hugs her curves doesn’t help the growing situation in his pants — it’s like she knows exactly what she’s doing to him, a small punishment for what just happened between them. He tries to act like he's not affected, emptying his glass of champagne while his eyes turn back to the table, but his focus is scattered.

His hand still tingles from touching her under the table, and now he’s left to deal with the knowledge that his teasing had gotten to her.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Minutes tick by, though they feel like an eternity.

Lando finds himself forcing a laugh at something Oscar says, remembering how impossibly talkative his teammate gets when he has a few drinks on board. He shifts in his seat, trying to mask his growing anticipation, but she’s all he can think about. His fingers drum against his empty glass, the weight of the moment making it almost impossible to sit still.

Then, his phone buzzes inside his pocket, her name lighting up the screen.

He doesn’t need to answer to know it’s just a diversion, and she’s not waiting for a conversation, either — she’s just giving him an out.

Lando clears his throat, “Sorry, I have to take this,” he says, giving the table an apologetic smile, as he pushes back his chair and making his way out of the dining area with purpose.

His heart pounds in his chest as he walks toward the bathroom, careful not to seem too rushed, but acutely aware of the tension building inside his body with each step he takes.

The hallway leading to the bathrooms is quieter, lined with soft, ambient lighting and artwork that screams understated luxury. He takes a turn, his steps slowing as he spots her standing in front of the mirror inside the women's restroom. The space itself is elegant, all marble countertops and gold fixtures, with sleek stalls and huge mirrors.

She’s touching up her lipstick, her purse resting next to her, the subtle curve of her smile betraying the fact that she knows he’s behind her. Lando approaches slowly, his footsteps soft against the polished tile. When he’s close enough, his hands settle on her waist, his touch firm yet familiar as he pulls her closer.

“There you are,” he says, his voice low and full of heat. “Worried about your makeup when it’s just going to smudge off you anyway?”

Her smile turns into a smirk as she meets his gaze in the mirror. “God, you’re the worst,” she teases, her tone light but laced with something more intimate.

Lando chuckles while she turns in his arms. Her hands slide up his chest, her touch lingering as she looks up at him, her eyes dark with intent.

“Are you sure it can’t wait until we get back to the hotel?” asks Lando, even though he already knows the answer, because he knows the look she has painted all over her face very well.

Her lips brush against his cheek in a warm, lingering kiss before her breath tickles his ear. “Baby, that's hours away.”

She intertwines her fingers with his, and leads him to one of the stalls at the end of the bathroom. The space is just as luxurious as the rest of the venue — tall wooden doors that reach from ceiling to floor, polished brass locks, and a sense of privacy that makes it feel more like a secluded room than a bathroom stall. As soon as they step inside, the door locks with a soft click, and every ounce of restraint disappears.

Lando’s lips are on hers instantly, hot and demanding, his hands already traveling to the hem of her dress. There’s no time to waste, with all those people back at the table who could realize at any moment that it is no coincidence that they are both missing at the same time.

His hands slide up her thighs, pushing the fabric of her dress higher until he reaches the thin band of her panties. His fingers slip beneath the lace, tugging them down in one swift motion before his hand returns, sliding between her legs and finding her completely soaked.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his forehead resting against hers as his fingers dip into her heat. “All this from a bit of touching?”

Her breath comes out in a shaky laugh as she clutches his shirt. “No,” she whispers, “All this from watching you on that stage, sitting next to you the entire night, seeing how people were cheering for you — and then from a bit of touching.”

A cocky smirk tugs at Lando’s lips. “That so?” he asks, pressing a finger into her, his pace measured as he stretches her slowly.

She gasps, her head falling back against the door, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. A second finger joins the first, curling inside her as his thumb circles her clit, making her see stars.

Her hands, trembling with anticipation, move to his belt, fumbling for a moment before she pushes his pants down just enough to free his hardened cock. Her touch is soft at first, her fingers wrapping around him and stroking slowly, making his jaw clench.

She looks up at him, her lips curving into a teasing smile as she echoes his earlier words. “All this from touching me under the table?”

“Shut up,” he growls, grabbing her thigh and hitching it around his hip. His cock presses against her entrance, teasing her as he slides the tip through her slick folds.

“You shut up, and fuck me already,” she says, her voice thick with desire.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. With one swift thrust, he buries himself inside her, both of them gasping at the full sensation. The stretch is so sweet and perfect, and he pauses for just a moment, letting her adjust before pulling back and thrusting again, harder this time. Her back presses against the door, the cool wood contrasting with the heat of his body as he sets a relentless pace, in and out of her tight pussy. His hands grip her thighs, spreading her wider for him as he drives into her, each movement hungrier than the previous.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Lando groans, his lips brushing against her ear. “Perfectly thight around me, baby. Always so sweet and eager, aren’t you?”

She clings to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as he angles his hips, hitting a spot that has her biting back a cry. “Lan,” she breathes, her voice shaky and full of need, while trying to mimic his rapid movements.

“That’s it,” he encourages her, his voice rough as his fingers dig into her hips. “Let them hear you, baby. Let everybody know how well you take my cock.”

Her head falls on his shoulder as he thrusts deeper, harder, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside her. The tension coils tighter and tighter in her belly, her body trembling as she teeters on the edge.

“Lando, fuck,” she moans wetly into his shoulder, feeling her pussy clenching around his length. “Shit, baby. Yes, don’t stop.”

As he buries himself so deep inside her, Lando realizes that's what he wants to do for the rest of the evening — the rest of his life, as a matter of fact. His lips part as he feels her walls twitching around him, making him — if that's even possible — even harder for her. His breaths come out in spasms, letting out a small cry of pleasure as his chest crashes against hers violently.

Sensing that she’s so close, Lando’s hand ends up slipping between their bodies to rub her clit in time with his thrusts. “Come on, baby. Let me feel you.”

“Are you—oh, fuck,” she tries to speak, but all her thoughts are focused on how good he makes her feel.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando assures her, “Right behind you, love.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before she shatters around him, her walls clenching hard as her orgasm washes over her. Her moans are muffled against his neck as he continues to fuck her through her release, chasing his own high. His movements grow erratic, sloppier, his grip on her tightening as he finally lets go, spilling into her with a low, guttural moan.

For a moment, they can’t hear anything else except the soft whir of ventilation and their labored breathing. Their bodies stay pressed tightly together as the echoes of their pleasure lingers in the small space.

Her chest heaves against his as she exhales shakily, her lips brushing his neck, then up his jaw in a silent thank you.

Lando smiles, slowly pulling out of her, his cock still hard and sensitive from his release. She shudders at the sudden emptiness, but before she can speak, his hand slips between her thighs again. His fingers slide inside, pushing some of his cum and their mingled release back into her.

“Lando,” she gasps, her body clenching instinctively around his fingers.

His breath falls hot against her skin. “Gotta make sure you feel it all night.”

Her cheeks flush at his words, and she bites her lip, torn between glaring at him and melting into his touch. He strokes her lazily, savoring the way her body responds to him even now.

“Insane behavior, Norris,” she exhales sharply, finally looking up at him.

“My brand,” he smirks back at her. “But what about you, hm?” he asks, his tone soft, but teasing as his eyes rake over her wrecked expression. “Going back knowing you’re filled up so good?”

She rolls her eyes at him, but the heat in her gaze betrays her. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You love it,” he quips, fixing a strand of her hair and then kissing her deeply one last time.

She smiles against his lips, brushing her thumb over his mouth to wipe away the faint smudge of her lipstick. Then, leaning up, she presses a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. “Don’t take too long, champ.”

With that, she exits the stall, glancing once in the mirror to make sure she looks composed, and collecting her purse before heading back to the table.

When she returns to her seat, the conversation flows just as before, no one paying much attention to her absence beyond a polite glance. Her heart pounds in her chest, the sensation of being so intimately connected to Lando still fresh in her mind as she settles into her chair. She picks up her glass of champagne, finishing it in one go, her hands steady despite the warmth still coursing through her body — and the wetness between her legs.

A few minutes later, Lando comes back, his phone pressed to his ear as he pretends to be mid-conversation. His expression is casual, his voice light as he murmurs something unintelligible before slipping his phone back into his pocket and taking his seat.

But as soon as he sits down, Oscar’s eyes narrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Lando catches the look, frowning slightly as he tilts his head. “What?” he asks silently, his expression confused.

Oscar doesn’t answer, instead he points directly at Lando’s bowtie, which is noticeably crooked.

Lando’s eyes widen as he glances down, and straightens it as casually as he can, his cheeks turning faintly pink.

“It's windy outside,” Lando mutters under his breath, low enough that only Oscar can hear.

His teammate just grins knowingly, leaning back in his chair. “Whatever you say, mate.”

PREVIOUS LN⁴ ONE-SHOT

MASTERLIST

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

2K notes · View notes

witchywithwhiskey · 3 months ago

Note

Hey, hehe. Flipped the coin to decide a character and it’s Ari, with bite me, please?🥺🥺

bite me, baby

pairing: ceo!ari levinson x female reader

summary: when your nightmare of a boss, the ceo of the company, insults your valentine's day plans, you're so fed up that you quit. and he has a reaction that you did not anticipate even a little bit.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cock warming, pool sex, biting/marking, edging via sensual massage (ari puts sunscreen on reader—never forget your sunscreen, friends!!), prone bone, some brattiness, light bd/sm, light power play dynamics, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (baby), aftercare, references to marathon sex, reader has a cat (idk if this needs to be a warning but just fyi!), enemies to lovers with a happy ending

word count: 6.0k

a/n: i love a coin flip because i hate making decisions 🤭 i'm so glad it landed on ari because he, and the "bite me" prompt, inspired this fun and dirty idea that i'm so so so happy with!! (i also think i managed to throw in some of the other stuff you requested because it ended up giving me a lot of inspiration.) thank you for playing my sweethearts game, i hope you enjoy!! ♡♡

sweethearts game masterlist

That was it. You had had enough of Ari Levinson.

In fact, after months of working for the CEO, you’d had more than enough of the infuriatingly arrogant, wildly inconsiderate, exasperatingly entitled and frustratingly handsome man.

Wait, no, forget that last one. Ari was the worst man you’d ever met—and you’d met plenty of awful men in your line of work as an executive assistant to high-ranking executives—so he certainly was not also the most attractive man you’d ever met. Absolutely not.

You’d worked for Ari Levinson for a little less than a year, and even though you were one of the best damn EAs in all of New York City, he’d already driven you to fantasizing about quitting multiple times a day. It wasn’t a good sign that you also liked to imagine kicking him in the shin before storming out in all your righteous glory.

The problem wasn’t that Ari Levinson was a demanding and exacting boss. He was a CEO, after all, and most executives held their employees to incredibly high standards. No, the real problem was that Ari was prone to seemingly impulsive whims, which always made your already difficult job nearly impossible.

More times than you could count, you’d had to reschedule meetings with titans of the industry and heads of state, all because Ari had forgotten to tell you he’d gone to play pickleball. Or you’d had to completely rebook a board meeting because Ari had decided to take a spontaneous trip to Costa Rica or the Seychelles or some other warm and sunny place while winter ravaged the city.

The worst part about those trips in particular was that you were still expected to commute into the office. So while Ari was off enjoying a white sand beach and crystal blue ocean, soaking up the sun that would undoubtedly bring out the blond highlights in his perfectly shaggy brown hair and deepen his glorious golden tan, you would be bundled up in a ridiculous amount of layers and braving the subway in the city.

When Ari was gone, you would spend most of your day sitting at your desk alone on the top floor the company’s building, twiddling your thumbs outside Ari’s empty office. Inevitably, your mind always strayed to Ari and began to wonder what he was doing at that very moment.

Since the CEO had you working 60-hour weeks, and you spent most of those hours by his side, you could very easily picture him standing on a beach. He’d be wearing a rakish smile on his bearded face, the clear blue of the ocean making the bright sapphire of his eyes pop while the shining sun would highlight the mischievous look that was, more often than not, sparkling in the depth of his gaze.

You’d never seen Ari shirtless—only ever having seen him in the tailored suits he wore to the office—but you’d caught glimpses of dark hair on his chest on the late nights when he’d undone the top buttons of his shirt. You could just imagine how his broad shoulders would frame his barrel chest, dark hair dusting so much of his bare skin that would be on display, with a pair of shorts riding indecently low on his hips.

And if you let your mind wander further down that path, you began to wonder if Ari ever swam naked in the shimmering waters of the tropics. You wondered if he floated on his back, basking in the sun with his entire body bare, looking even more like the golden god you thought he resembled…

With a forceful shake of your head, you made yourself stop thinking about Ari swimming naked, and refocused on the present moment.

You stood in Ari’s office, your back straight as a knife’s edge while you typed notes furiously into your phone about everything you’d have to reschedule to accommodate the last-minute, week-long trip to Belize he’d informed you he was taking.

You’d bitten back a sigh, like the polite little EA you prided yourself on being, and tried to get more details from him about his availability while he was away. But instead of answering your extremely relevant questions, Ari had changed the subject and asked about your Valentine’s Day plans.

The words had taken you by so much surprise, you’d had to pause your typing and blink a few times before your mind could process them. It wasn’t until Ari had voiced the question that you even realized the holiday had snuck up on you.

Not that it mattered, it wasn’t like you were seeing anyone, so you had no romantic partner to spend it with. As such, you’d given Ari a bland answer about catching up on the new season of The Traitors with a bottle of rosé and Freddie.

You didn’t expect Ari to remember that Freddie was your cat, and not a partner—though Freddie was, admittedly, your closest companion since you lived alone in a very nice one-bedroom apartment and had little time for other friends.

You’d hoped Ari would’ve forgotten about Freddie and assumed you were just having a lowkey Valentine’s Day, thereby getting the hint to drop the subject. You’d wanted to refocus him on answering the questions you’d asked about his trip.

But you’d had no such luck and, for the second time in five minutes, Ari had surprised you—and not in a good way.

The CEO had scoffed at your Valentine’s Day plans, rolling his gorgeous blue eyes in a way that made you grind your molars in an effort not to snarl at him. He’d said you could find better company for the evening than a cheap bottle of wine, some trashy television and a flea-ridden furball.

That last comment had been the final straw. The one that broke the proverbial camel’s back.

You’d felt something inside you snap, and you realized you’d had enough of Ari Levinson.

It was bad enough that Ari was the worst, most difficult and flighty boss you’d ever had, but you drew the line at anyone insulting Freddie. He was your precious little man, the one who greeted you every night with sweet chirps and warm affection when you got home to your otherwise empty apartment.

You loved him more than anything else in the world, and had even used a good chunk of the generous salary you made working for Ari to splurge on a place with lots of natural light so Freddie could bask in the sun to his heart’s content. So you would absolutely not stand by and listen to Ari insult Freddie.

“You know what, bite me, Levinson,” you hissed at the infuriatingly arrogant CEO, using a voice so filled with fury, you barely recognized it as your own. “I quit.”

You took a second to savor the slightly stunned look on Ari’s face—his normally sparkling blue eyes dulled with confusion and his perfectly plump lips, offset by his dark, well-groomed beard, parted in surprise like you’d slapped him—then you whirled around on your heel.

You were determined to stalk out of the CEO’s office with your head held high, but Ari had other ideas.

Quick as lightning, Ari’s hand shot out and wrapped around the back of your neck. His grip was surprisingly gentle, even if it was still firm enough to spin you back around and reel you in until your body nearly collided with his broad chest.

The astonished look on Ari’s face had already been replaced by a devastatingly arrogant grin, his bright blue eyes sparkling like the sun glinting off the ocean, a wicked kind of mischief in their depths. He held you close, so close that you had to tip your head back to look into his eyes.

Your hands had come up to brace against Ari’s chest when he’d tugged you into the cage of his arms, and you could tell, even through the thick wool coat he wore over his suit, that he was sturdy beneath his clothes.

The only thing stopping you from trying to push him away was the sneaking suspicion that he was strong enough not to allow you to put any space between your bodies if he didn’t want it. If you did try to fight and he didn’t give you an inch, you knew it would turn you on more than his manhandling already had, and you couldn’t deal with that just yet.

So instead of fighting him, you stood there, letting Ari tower over you while your hands rested uselessly against the lapels of his coat, your phone still clutched tightly in your fingers. You tried to keep a glare fixed on your face, showing him all of the ire you felt, and none of the desire that was scorching through your body as you inhaled his warm, spicy scent.

“Bad move, baby,” Ari rumbled, his mouth curving into a wicked smirk that had your betrayer of a heart beating mortifyingly hard in your chest, the warmth between your legs turning into a disloyal dampness. “Now there’s no employee code of conduct stopping me from doing this.”

You didn’t even have a hope of processing Ari’s words before his mouth crashed down on yours.

If you ever thought about it—which you did, an embarrassing amount, in fact, though you’d never in your life admit it to anyone (except maybe Freddie)—you would’ve expected Ari Levinson to be a selfish kisser. You’d expected him to totally lack finesse, to plunge his tongue into your mouth right away and take what he thought he was owed.

But Ari’s kiss wasn’t like that at all.

Sure, there was a barely leashed hunger in the way his mouth worked against yours, like he was holding onto his restraint by the tips of his fingers. But his lips were more coaxing than demanding, his tongue more teasing and playful than plundering as he licked along the seam of your mouth.

Before you knew what was happening, you were falling under the spell of Ari Levinson’s kiss. Your lips were parting of their own accord, and you were letting out a contented little sigh as your body melted into his arms.

You could taste the smirk on his lips as he readjusted his grip, one of his arms banding around your lower back to hold you securely against his chest while his other hand shifted from the back of your neck to cup your face. He held you exactly where he wanted you while he tempted you into giving yourself completely to him.

Then, Ari deepened the kiss, and you were lost to him.

He smelled like expensive cologne, rich and spicy, but he tasted like bitter coffee and dark chocolate, and the contrast was driving you wild. You wanted to climb the tall, sturdy CEO like he was a tree, but you settled for curling your fingers around the lapels of his coat and pulling him closer, sucking on the tongue he’d slipped into your mouth and reveling in his groan of pleasure.

You could already feel the evidence of his arousal pressing into your stomach, and you desperately wanted to feel his bulge move lower, shoving between your thighs while Ari spread your legs wide open—preferably with no layers of clothing between your bodies. You wanted him to sink into your wet heat and pound into you until you forgot everything except his name.

But you wouldn’t beg Ari Levinson to fuck you. You refused to stoop to that level.

Instead, you pressed your body more firmly against his hardness, nipping at his plump lower lip and stirring a low growl in his chest. Then you sucked on his lip hard enough that his arms crushed you to his chest, his hips thrusting instinctively against your soft curves and making you smirk against his mouth.

“Come to Belize with me,” Ari murmured when he’d pulled his lips from yours to press kisses to your cheek and jaw and neck. He kissed you anywhere he could reach without straying too far from your mouth, which he devoured with a hunger that had a pulsing need throbbing between your thighs. “Come with me, baby, and we can continue this for the whole week.”

A scornful laugh, light and frothy as the waves crashing on the shore, bubbled from your lips and you tipped your head back. Ari took the movement as permission to brush even more kisses to the underside of your jaw, a shiver racing down your spine when the softness of his mouth contrasted with the rasp of his beard.

But, though a part of you wanted to get even more lost in Ari Levinson and take him up on his request, you couldn’t forget everything he’d done and said. You certainly wouldn’t forget the slight against Freddie.

“Why on earth would I go anywhere with you?” you asked, your voice so breathy, it almost sounded like you were flirting with the arrogant CEO instead of scoffing at his offer. “I just quit, remember?”

“I remember,” Ari muttered into the fluttering pulse beneath your jaw. He kissed his way back to your mouth and licked inside, making you melt even further in his arms.

By that point, your legs were so weak, you were certain Ari’s strong arms were the only thing holding you up. But if he’d been trying to persuade you with pure lust into relenting and giving in to his invitation, he must’ve realized quickly it would take more to sweep you off your feet.

“Let me put it this way—come to Belize with me and I’ll tell HR I fired you so you get your full severance package,” he rumbled in your ear, nipping at the lobe and dragging a reluctant gasp from your lips. “Otherwise you get nothing.”

Somewhere, in the deep recesses of your rational mind, you knew you should bristle at Ari’s threat. After all, he was toying with your financial future like it was nothing but a tool in his negotiation arsenal to get what he wanted.

Except…you had been the one to quit without thinking about what it meant for your ability to pay rent and keep a roof over Freddie’s head. Ari wasn’t threatening to take away your severance, you’d thrown that away all on your own. Instead, he was offering to give it to you in exchange for a week-long vacation to one of the most beautiful places in the world.

Later, you could chalk up your questionable decision-making to the drugging effect Ari’s mouth had on your body and mind, but in the moment, you were hard-pressed to remember why you shouldn’t go with him to Belize. Especially when your body seemed unwilling to do anything except press further into him, begging him without words for more.

You realized belatedly that you’d already made up your mind, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell the exasperating CEO just yet. So you slid a hand from the lapel of Ari’s jacket into his soft, brown hair, your fingers curling selfishly in the strands while you pulled his mouth back to yours. You shared a slow, decadent kiss that almost made you forget the conversation you’d been having.

“They’ll believe that?” you asked on a gasp, breaking away from Ari’s devastatingly perfect mouth to suck in the air your lungs were begging for.

You pulled back enough to look up into Ari’s handsome face, finding him smirking knowingly down at you, and you realized he knew you’d already decided to go with him. You were prepared to seethe in fury and snap at him, but something in his expression made you pause—there was a hint of affection in his crystal blue eyes that you’d never seen before, and it rendered you speechless.

“Baby, I sign their paychecks,” Ari said, stroking a finger tenderly down your cheek, his words reminding you of the conversation you were still in the middle of. “They’ll believe what I tell them to believe.”

A derisive scoff burst from your lips as you rolled your eyes at the arrogance of Ari’s statement, but you held your tongue. You’d known the man long enough that there was no point in arguing with him, so you changed the subject to something that mattered more to you anyway.

“I’m still furious with you for what you said about my Valentine’s Day plans—and Freddie,” you said, giving Ari your best, most withering glare.

Unfortunately, you suspected it wasn’t all that scary, at least not to the CEO who still held you in his arms, because Ari just chuckled and ducked down to press a kiss to your lips. His laughter flickered teasingly into your mouth, making the warmth of desire bloom even more hotly in your body.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Ari vowed before kissing you again, though it didn’t last long as his mouth tipped up into a smirk. “You’re going to enjoy Belize, baby.”

The sun that shone on Belize was better than the sun above New York City, you were convinced of it. If anyone tried to tell you that was simply because Belize was closer to the equator and it was February, you wouldn’t hear it. The sun was better in Belize.

It fell across your bare shoulders like the softest and comfiest of blankets, warming you down to the bones that you would’ve sworn had been permanently frozen by the city’s frigid winter. But even with the sun beating down on your body, you never got overheated thanks to the gentle breeze coming in off the water of the near-distant ocean, caressing your skin like a lover.

For the millionth time since you’d arrived in Belize, you let out a sigh of contentment and reveled in the bright sunshine and the smell of salt on the air. The lapping of the waves was a constant soundtrack, lulling you into a state of near-sleep as you lay out on the deck of the private vacation home your former boss had booked for the week.

And, thanks to the privacy afforded by the high walls on either side of the pool and deck, which overlooked a strip of beach reserved entirely for you and the CEO, you were basking in the sun completely naked. Your body was stretched out on the soft cushion of a sun lounger, laying on your stomach with your arms folded beneath your chin.

The only thing you wore was a pair pink heart-shaped sunglasses perched on the bridge of your nose, casting the world in shades of bubblegum and taffy while you watched the ocean. It felt deliciously wicked to be laying outside wearing nothing, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you reveled in the feeling of the sun warming your skin—all of your skin.

The sound of the door to the deck opening and closing pulled you from your reverie, though you didn’t turn to see who it was. There was only one person it could be—Ari Levinson.

“The beast’s been fed,” Ari said, no small amount of fondness in his tone. His heavy footsteps padded in your direction across the wooden deck, coming to a stop somewhere near the foot of your lounger.

It surprised no one more than you to learn that Ari’s invitation to go to Belize for the week had included Freddie. The CEO had even accompanied you to your apartment, where he’d helped herd Freddie into his carrier before taking both of you to the airport where he kept his private jet.

Freddie had been wary of the large intruder in your home, and was taking some time to warm up to Ari. In an effort to endear himself to your precious furball, Ari had insisted on being the one to feed him, which you’d only allowed once your former boss admitted he planned on keeping you in his life long after the trip to Belize ended—and was willing to do anything to make that happen.

It turned out, Freddie was just as much of a traitor as your heart, because he’d warmed up to Ari just as fast as your the betrayer in your chest had, abandoning their initial hatred of the CEO for something much warmer and more affectionate.

“I gave him some of that wet food he likes,” Ari went on, finally dragging your attention away from the ocean so you could look up at the man who was quickly becoming your second favorite person in the world—after Freddie, of course.

You sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of Ari, standing on the deck with his hands propped on his hips, his face tipped up toward the sun and his eyes shaded in dark glasses—all while entirely naked.

There was so much golden, tanned skin on display, you didn’t know where to look—at the dark hair blanketing his barrel chest, at the gentle taper of his waist and the hair trailing down from his navel, or at the thick cock hanging between his even thicker thighs.

The two of you had barely made it into the vacation home in Belize and gotten Freddie settled before Ari had been pushing inside your entirely too willing pussy, finally finishing what you’d begun in the CEO’s office in New York. Since then, neither of you had been able to keep your hands to yourselves for longer than a few hours, and you’d learned, intimately, how it felt to have Ari’s cock buried in each one of your holes.

You’d also confessed to Ari, early on in the week, that you’d wondered whether he spent his vacations swimming naked in the ocean. In response, he’d pulled you into the ocean wearing not a stitch of clothing between the two of you; ever since, he’d taken to walking around naked all the time, so you’d done the same.

Considering all the fucking you were doing, it was way more convenient anyway.

“I think it’s about time you put on more sunscreen, isn’t it, baby?” Ari asked, dragging your focus back to the moment.

His tone had dropped a little lower in that way that made your belly swoop and dampness begin to gather between your thighs. Your body warmed as arousal settled heavily in your center, your legs falling open just a tiny bit, as if the infuriating CEO had trained you to react instinctively to the barest hint of desire in his tone after just a few days.

Still, though your body might betray what you desperately wanted from Ari, you weren’t going to make it so easy for him.

You tipped your head up toward him, finding he’d pulled off his sunglasses and dropped them on the lounger beside yours, leaving him able to pin you with a scorchingly heated look. You simply raised a brow at him.

“If you think so, you can go ahead and apply it for me,” you said primly, tossing your head and turning back to look out at the ocean.

A smirk quirked the corners of your lips as you heard Ari chuckle behind you, and you could easily picture him picking up the bottle of sunscreen from the deck while he stepped closer to you.

A moment later, you felt the slight shift of movement when Ari threw his leg over your lounger. Then he settled down on the cushion, planting his knees on either side of your hips. You took off your sunglasses and set them on the deck, pretending not to care about what Ari was doing.

But every spot where his bare skin touched yours tingled with awareness, excitement bubbling in your belly and mixing with your desire into the perfect kind of anticipation that had you squeezing your thighs together against the ache building in your core.

Ari was quiet while he squeezed the sunscreen onto his hands and began massaging it into your shoulders, his strong fingers working methodically at the knots in your muscles—knots he’d created while he’d still been your boss—until they were entirely loose and unraveled.

Then his hands were moving lower, his fingers brushing along the soft sides of your tits in such a teasing torture that you had to force yourself not to squirm beneath him. You were trying your hardest to keep up the appearance that you were unaffected by Ari’s touch, but the longer he deftly worked your body, the more effort it took to bite back your moans.

However, all hope of hiding your reactions from the arrogant CEO fled when he got to your ass. His big hands rubbed and kneaded the soft flesh in such a way that Ari kept spreading your pussy lips apart, the quiet sounds of your own wetness reaching your ears even over the near-distant hum of the ocean.

Ari lingered over your ass and hips and thighs, groping your body shamelessly under the guise of working sunscreen into your skin, even as both of you knew exactly what he was doing. He worked you up until you were squirming beneath him, biting back little whimpers of desire, and then he stopped and you nearly growled in frustration.

Picking up the bottle of sunscreen, Ari laughed softly while he squeezed more into his hands, then made quick work of smoothing it down the rest of your legs, making sure you were entirely covered before resuming his previous position.

His hands groped your ass again and his hard cock bobbed against the backs your thighs, but neither of you moved to take things further for a long moment. You simply enjoyed the feeling of being together, a sense of peace like none you’d ever known washing over you.

“How many times d’you think I’ve made you cum so far this week?” Ari asked, his tone light with an undercurrent of huskiness betraying his desire.

The question broke whatever spell Ari had put on you and you stretched languidly beneath him, reaching your fingers out toward the ocean and pointing your toes while you tested your muscles. Your body was loose and relaxed, but you were despairingly empty, so you pushed your hips up, brushing your ass teasingly against Ari’s hard length while you hummed in thought.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, grumbling only a little when Ari pushed your hips back down on the lounger. He rebuffed your wordless offer, pinning you down while his knees shifted higher up your body and his calves kept your thighs closed together. “A lot, I guess.”

“And how many more until you forgive me for being the worst boss ever?” he asked, a playful smile in the warmth of his tone.

You may have called him that—more than once—when he was edging you earlier in the week. But he’d earned the insult, and more, frankly, for how much you’d put up with in your months of working for him. He truly had been the worst boss ever, and you never intended on rescinding your resignation since he deserved it.

Thankfully, Ari seemed determined to make it up to you, just like he’d promised. Mostly through orgasms, but you weren’t going to complain. Not yet, anyway. (Besides, you’d already gotten him to promise to give you the most glowing letter of recommendation he could write, and help you secure a position with a much less demanding company.)

“At least a hundred,” you murmured in a breathy tone, your hips lifting hungrily into Ari’s palms when he kneaded your ass, his thumbs brushing temptingly close to your dripping slit.

That time, he took you up the wordless invitation, the tip of his hard cock pressing into your tight hole, which was more than eager to take his thick length. Ari’s cock met with no resistance from your body as he slid inside, burying himself to the hilt with one relentless stroke.

You were plenty wet from the massage he’d given you, and your body had long since grown accustomed to the feel of his fat cock stretching your tight pussy. It had taken some time to work his full length inside you that first night, but your body had come to know him, and you stretched to fit him perfectly, his hardness nestled deep in your cunt with his tip pressed against your cervix.

A pleasured groan slipped from Ari’s lips as he felt your pussy squeezing around him. He fell forward, covering your body with his broad form until he was pressed flush to your back, pinning you into the soft cushion of the lounger.

The movement shifted his stiff length in your dripping hole, and it felt like he was pushing impossibly deeper, which wrung a shrill desperate, keening sound from the depths of your lungs.

Ari shushed you softly, his palms skimming from your shoulders down your arms until his fingers tangled with yours. He held your hands in each of his, keeping you grounded in the moment while undeniable euphoria filled your body and mind, blotting out everything except Ari and the pleasure he offered.

“And how many more until you forgive me for the comment about the beast?” Ari asked, his voice gravelly with his own barely leashed desire. He turned his head slightly, brushing a kiss to the apple of your cheek like he couldn’t help himself, and waited for your answer.

It took you a moment to gather your thoughts enough to respond, knowing he wasn’t going to move, to fuck you, until you’d answered his question.

“It’s gonna take five hundred more,” you huffed, trying for a pert tone and failing miserably. Your voice was little more than a breathy moan, but that didn’t stop you from curtly adding, “That was my son you insulted.”

“By the end of this trip, he’s going to be our son,” Ari growled in your ear, pulling his hips back and thrusting inside you again, harder and rougher than before.

You moaned loudly at the delicious drag of his cock in your tight hole, fighting back the warmth that wanted to curl around your heart at the determination in Ari’s tone when he talked about making Freddie his son too.

Thankfully, the way Ari was rocking into you, fucking your prone body while you were pinned beneath him, easily distracted you from the fact that the infuriating CEO was stealing his way deeper into your heart with very little resistance since you just couldn’t seem to muster it. Not when he felt so fucking good and said so many sweet things.

“And if I have to make you cum one thousand times to make you forgive me, I’ll do it,” Ari went on, pounding into you harder, his hips smacking against your ass with every thrust, wringing mindless moans from your lips while he kept spilling filth in your ear. “I’ll fuck your sweet little cunt until she’s so sensitive and swollen, you’ll be begging me to stop—but I won’t. I’ll make you cum on my cock so many times you’ll be forgiving me over and over and over again.”

Ari punctuated each of his words with a ruthless thrust, the clapping of his skin against yours loud in the quiet and otherwise peaceful afternoon. It was all you could do to mutter, “Oh god,” and cling on to Ari’s hands, holding him tightly while you took every inch of his cock and every single one of his rough thrusts.

“And then, when you’re addicted to my cock and you’ve finally forgiven me—really, truly forgiven me—I’ll put a pretty little ring on this finger,” Ari rumbled, squeezing your left ring finger between two of his own, so you couldn’t possibly misunderstand what he was saying. “And I’m going to make you my wife. How does that sound, baby?”

A sob of overwhelming bliss wrenched free from your lips, your mouth too busy wailing your pleasure to form words to respond.

But it didn’t matter that you couldn’t answer Ari’s question with words because you knew from the way he chuckled in your ear that he’d felt the way your pussy had clenched down on him when he’d said he was going to make you his wife. Your body had answered for you, and it had been much more honest than your mouth would’ve been.

Ari kept fucking you, perfectly hard and perfectly fast, and the pleasure swirling through your body was reaching a fever pitch. It was almost too much for you to bear, so you turned your head and buried your face against Ari’s thick bicep. Mindless moans spilled from your lips as your teeth pressed instinctively into the hard, flexing muscle.

“That’s it—bite me, baby,” Ari cooed in your ear while he shoved his other arm under your body, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing the aching bundle of nerves in tight, ruthless circles. “Bite me while you’re cumming all over my fat cock like the good girl I know you are.”

Ari’s words and his relentless determination to make you cum were your undoing.

You came with a muffled scream, your teeth sinking so deep into Ari’s bicep, you knew you’d leave a mark behind. That thought only made you cum even harder, your body trembling and shaking with the force of the pleasure crashing over you.

Ari followed right after you, his hips rutting into you for a few more thrusts before he came with a grunt, his cock twitching as he spilled his seed deep in your pussy. The two of you writhed together, eking out every last shred of pleasure before eventually collapsing on the sun lounger with exhaustion.

Maneuvering the two of you onto your sides, Ari held you in the cradle of his arms, his cock staying wedged deep inside you so you kept him warm as he gradually softened. You dozed off in the comfort of Ari’s hold, feeling his heart beating against your spine and listening to his soft breaths mingling with the gentle lapping of the ocean.

After a time, Ari roused you from sleep, murmuring in your ear that the two of you should take a quick dip in the pool before deciding what to order for dinner. The sun had fallen low in the sky, ducking behind the house so that the deck was cast in shade, but the air was still pleasantly warm.

The cool water of the pool helped to wake you up, and there was a pleasurable burn in your muscles as you swam and splashed and fooled around with Ari.

Before you dragged yourselves from the pool, he fucked you again, using the gentle weightlessness of the water to lift you up and down on his cock while your head lolled against his shoulder and you moaned your pleasure into his neck.

When the two of you finally stumbled back inside, smelling like chlorine and sunshine, Freddie hopped up from the patch of light he’d been laying in at the front of the house. He chirped happily, twisting around your ankles and waiting for a brief pet before he pranced over to Ari.

Freddie rubbed his furry body against Ari’s calves, staring up at the man like he’d hung the stars and moon in the sky. Your cat’s welcome made the infuriatingly handsome CEO chuckle affectionately while he bent down to scuff the creature under the chin, murmuring soft praises to the beast.

It was too much for your heart—too sweet and pure and perfect—and you fell in love with Ari Levinson in that exact moment, though it would be many more months before you confessed those feelings to the man himself.

By the time you did, Ari would have whispered his love into every inch of your body. When the words finally fell from your lips, he would chuckle, having known it before you’d voiced it, because he knew your heart better than anyone else in the world. Even Freddie.

That first Valentine’s Day with Ari was much better than watching trashy TV with a bottle of rosé. In fact, it was the best you’d ever had. That is, until the next year’s Valentine’s Day, when Ari whisked you and Freddie off to another tropical location, and fulfilled the promise he’d made about putting a ring on your finger.

The Valentine’s Day after that, Ari Levinson made you his wife. And the two of you lived happily ever after.

sweethearts game masterlist

#ari levinson #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x you #ari levinson au #ari levinson one shot #ari levinson imagine #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters #chris evans smut #witchywithwhiskey's sweethearts #witchywithwhiskeywork #buck-star

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asxgard · 7 days ago

Text

Any Excuse | one shot

Dr. Jack Abbot x f!Hospitalist!reader

Requested

Summary: A snapshot of your interactions with the ruggedly handsome ER doctor, and several of the excuses he uses to see you.

[ Masterlist ]

Anon Request: I have a request! Jack Abbot x reader where the reader is a new night-shift hospitalist (the doctor that is responsible for taking care of patients admitted to the hospital from the ER) at PTMC. She and Jack hit it off after meeting and he keeps trying to come up with any excuse at all to admit patients just to have to contact her. And maybe he goes and visits his admitted patients “just to check up on them” even though he never has before and probably barely remembers their names just to see her. And the night shift ER crew just smirk at each other whenever she goes to their department to see a patient and interacts with Abbot.

Note: so I read a bunch of articles about hospitalists and I still feel like I might have misunderstood, so this took a bit longer than intended lol but here it is! I hope you enjoy💜

Word Count: 1.4k

All of my works are 18+ due to general adult content.

Warnings: hospital setting, medical inaccuracies, foul language, pining, slowburn? (can I say that in a one shot? lol), so much sass & flirting

not beta read

Jack thought that the first time he saw you, he had to be dreaming. A cliched savior in a white lab coat, moving through the Pitt with a purpose and a smile. He had heard about the new hospitalist floating around, having started several weeks prior, but he had never seen you down in the Pitt before.

You had come down for an admitted patient, and when you stopped in front of him to go over the case, it took him a second to speak.

“Finally come to see how the other half lives?”

“More like finally hitting rock bottom.” You supplied effortlessly with a smirk.

One side of Jack’s lips tilted upwards, “Patient’s been waiting nearly two hours on a bed upstairs.”

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You said, eyes flickering across the busy ED, “You’re lucky he wasn’t waiting for surgery. You’d wait all night.”

Jack handed over the tablet showing the patient’s chart. You skimmed through it quickly, humming as you did.

“Great, I’ll go get him to radiology. Thank you, Dr. Abbot.” You said, smiling at him.

He watched you go with an uncapped fascination. With the tiniest hint of a smile, Jack got back to work.

—

The next time he saw you, you were in one of the ED rooms, talking to a mother and daughter. You were going over some results, before explaining that you would be bringing the mother upstairs shortly for inpatient care. Your demeanor was kind, but refined, shoulders set with an easy smile.

“Good evening, Dr. Abbot.” You said as you approached him.

He greeted you after a beat, subtly taking in your figure. “Would be better without all these boarders.”

You glanced at the board, “Truly, if this is how the other half lives, I’m good where I’m at.”

A wry grin formed, “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

You chuckled, “I think the dose I got on my med school rotation is good enough for a lifetime. I’m content just drifting through, on occasion.”

Me too, Jack thought before shaking it off, steeling his expression.

“You get used to it.” Jack said, tone light, “At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.”

Jack ignored the way Ellis looked over at him.

“Duly noted.” You said with a smile. “Can we go over my patient quickly? I’d like to get her upstairs.”

Jack nodded, moving closer to you to rattle off several things about your patient.

It was around that time Jack started taking sugar in his coffee. Just one packet, but it did not go unnoticed.

—

“Ah, Dr. Abbot, just the man I was looking for.” You said, walking over to the charge desk where he stood.

He looked from the board to you, eyebrow raised, “Don’t hear that often.”

You raised a challenging eyebrow in return, “Why’s that, do you think? Certainly would have nothing to do with your bedside manner, or that rugged charm? Perhaps the dry humor? No, certainly not.”

Shen barked a laugh beside him, before quickly covering it with an awkward cough.

Jack blinked, momentarily speechless. “I think it has something to do with…what did Dana’s daughter call it? My resting bitch face?”

You laughed, and the sound carried, making Jack’s heart squeeze.

“Maybe that’s it. I’d just call it ‘stoic and mysterious’. It works, for you.” You said, clearing your throat and glancing away from him as your cheeks heated. “Anyways, I was just coming to ask why you were admitting the patient in Central-5? EKG was clean, troponin test confirmed no heart attack, and you can monitor overnight down here.”

“Need the bed.” He supplied. “8/10 chest pain that comes and goes, shortness of breath, several risk factors like high cholesterol and triglycerides. CCU should take him.”

You hummed, looking over the chart again. “Alright, yeah, I’ll take him. I’ll follow up with his PCP in the morning to get more of a history. Thank you, Dr. Abbot.”

Jack nodded.

“Can you let Ms. Kelly know I’ll be back down shortly to bring her to gastro?”

He nodded again, “Course.”

You smiled brightly at him, “Thank you!”

—

Hours later, Jack had moved up to CCU to check on a patient. Something he never did. It was less so to check up on the patient, and more so to see you. He didn’t even remember the patient’s name, only their list of symptoms, their test results.

You had begun to occupy most of his thoughts, and he found himself looking for any excuse to talk with you. The bad breakroom coffee felt hot in his hands, two cups holding more weight than just liquid. He had no idea how you took your coffee — if you drank coffee — but he guessed you preferred it slightly sweet. He really hoped he was right.

Sat in a reserved corner of the seventh floor, you were charting — hands moving quickly over the keys, eyes focused.

“Hey,” Jack said softly, as to not startle you.

You turned your head, taking him in before you smiled.

“Wanted to check up on Mr…uh, and figured you might need this.” He offered you one of the cups.

You blinked, “Mr. Olsen? You wanted to check up on a patient?” You accepted the coffee, “Thank you, this was really nice of you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Was hoping I was being overly cautious and he didn’t actually have a heart attack.”

“It’s good you wanted to admit him, actually. I think he has GERD.” You said, taking a careful sip of the hot liquid, and a smile lit up your features when you swallowed, eyes flickering from the liquid and back to Jack.

Jack took a sip of his black coffee, nodding. “That makes sense, actually. Heartburn could’ve been what he was feeling.”

“I asked him about his diet, high-fat mostly. He had a spicy burrito for dinner, so yeah. GERD. Waiting for a consult, but he’s doing fine. I’ll have him follow up with a nutritionist and his PCP.”

“Good, that’s good.” He shifted his weight. “Looks like you’ll have all the glory, then.”

You laughed, “Hardly. You wanted to admit him…but we can share. 70/30?”

Jack smirked, “Closer to 60/40. I did order all those tests.”

You scoffed playfully, “I will go no lower than 65/45.”

“Deal.”

—

You came down into the Pitt with coffees in hand, eyes searching for a particular doctor — the one with hard, caring hazel eyes, salt and pepper curls, and a smile that made your heart race.

“He’s in Trauma-1,” said Ellis, hiding her smirk well. “I can let him know you stopped by?”

Your cheeks heated, “I can wait, I have two patients to check up on down here. They should have beds within the hour.”

Ellis nodded, “Look at you getting stuff done.”

“Heavy is the head…”

She chuckled.

Jack said your name in surprise, closing in on you. He took in the coffees and your smile.

You handed him one without ceremony, “Returning the favor.”

He accepted it graciously, ignoring how Shen and Ellis were smirking at him, taking a sip.

“Damn, they hide the good shit upstairs, huh?”

You cracked a grin, “It’s as if they play favorites.”

Jack put a hand over his heart and mocked offense, “You wound me. Are you saying I’m not your favorite?”

“I brought you the good shit, didn’t I?” You smirked, not missing a beat.

—

Jack called your work cell, glancing up at the board with one hand in his pocket. His shift was nearly over, but he had decided to call you after he had failed to see you for most of his shift.

“Thinking about admitting a patient to the cardiology,” he supplied lamely. “I know you can work magic with admissions.”

“You’re calling to ask for advice or for a favor?” You asked, “Or just so the Pitt can be graced with my wondrous presence right before shift change?”

“Can’t one doctor just call another?” A pause, “But can’t it be a bit of all of that?”

Your laugh was light and airy, “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

True to your word, you arrived in under ten minutes.

“You could just page me next time.”

He shrugged, “Ruins the mystique.”

A sharp laugh escaped your throat that you covered with your hand. “I feel like it would add mystique, even though I hardly think you leave any for the rest of us.”

“You think I’ve got mystique?”

“Totally. I dig the whole ‘gritty ER doc bathed in mystery’ thing you’ve got going on.”

“Yeah?” He raised a challenging eyebrow. “So I shouldn’t ask you to dinner then?”

“No, no,” Your cheeks flamed. “I think you totally should. But only if you don’t think it’ll ruin your rough-edge reputation.”

“We should test it. You know, for science.”

You agreed easily, “For scientific purposes only.”

He matched your smirk.

[ more stuff with Jack Abbot ]

want to join any of my taglists? shoot me a message!

Dr. Abbot taglist: @flyinglama @valhallavalkyrie9 @melancholyy-hill @travelingmypassion @yournerdmodziata @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @sarah-the-bird-nerd @artsymaddie @partofthelouniverse @woodxtock @rachel2494

The Pitt taglist: @cannonindeez @spoiledflor @kittenhawkk @nessamc @thatchickwiththecamera @sharkluver @loud-mouph @ksyn-faith @sunfairyy @dragonsondragons @mischiefsemimanaged @pastelbunnelby @jetjuliette @that-one-fangirl69 @moonlightmvrvel @andabuttonnose @boldlyherdream

All: @nixandtonic

I really enjoyed this one, so I hope you did too!

#the pitt #jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #jack abbott #jack abbott x reader #the pitt x reader #asxgard writes #requested #anon request

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pastelclovds · 4 months ago

Text

thinking about giving some relief to your stressed husband before he has to attend an important meeting with his colleagues later in the afternoon…

you’re awakened by the shower of gentle kisses from your neck and face provided by none other than your own darling husband. your gaze softens when you notice that desperately hungry look in his eyes. then, when your eyes travel downward, you were pleasantly surprised by the sight of your husband’s naked body. the sunrise shone through your bedroom window, basking your husband in a golden light. he looked near damn ethereal.

you greedily took in his meaty thighs, toned arms, rock hard abs, and his useless, thick, leaking cock. sometimes you wondered how in the hell you were able to marry a hunk like him. you could distinctly remember that your husband had many admirers in his life who would give anything to be able to have a chance with him.

you felt pride bubble in your chest knowing that none of them would ever be able to see your husband like this: looking down at you with pleading eyes, not even having to say a word to let you know what he wanted. for you to fuck him like a cheap whore until your bedroom stank of sex. how could you deny your baby when he’s been good for you all week long?

“you look so pretty on top of me baby, mhm, move your hips just like that,” you praised as the grip of your husband’s quivering legs tensed around you as he raises his hips until just your tip is inside him before plopping down, his skin slapping sinfully against your cum stained pelvis; evidence of your previous rounds that your husband was so desperate to keep inside him as it continued to leak out with every frantic movement of his hips.

“yer cock feels so good, i needed this so much— ah!” he gasped when you grab hold of his waist and snapped your hips up to match the pace of his feverish riding. you could hear the tear of fabric beside your head as your husbands claws at your pillows, his breathless moans increasing as you continue to plow into his hole.

“oh fuck yes! please go faster, i’m so close,” your husband begs so beautifully as he rest his forehead beside your neck, he pants against your ear as his climax creeps closer. the final straw for him was when you wrap your fingers around his girth and stroke him along with your erratic thrusts. he muffled his whine by biting into your shoulder as he added more to the white mess of your abdomen. overstimulation cuts him like a knife as you continued to use him until you quickly follow suit and you slam balls deep into his ass and fill him with warm cum.

you husband lays flat against you like a puppet without strings as you both try to catch your breath. he lifts himself from your shoulder to stare down at you with so much tenderness. only you had the privilege to see your husband in such a mess. a mess that you had created to perfection.

you felt yourself grin as your husband starts to slowly ride you again, making your cock harden just minutes after your previous session. your handsome man was just as greedy as you. if not more.

ghost, gaz, soap, price, miguel, choso, sukuna, vander, jayce, gojo, geto, ur fav characters <3

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kthologue · 2 years ago

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how i met your mother — gojo satoru

contents. fluff, meet ugly, established relationship, highschool!gojo in flashback, gojo just loves his wife and everyone is sick of it

notes. this is apart of my indulge me series but everything can be read as a standalone!

“you forgot to give me a kiss this morning,” your husband pouts from your lap before puckering his lips out, “i’ll need a thousand more to compensate!”

just a couple meters away from you, paper crinkles harshly as nanami, your fellow colleague, flips the page on the newspaper he’s reading. you hear a heavy sigh leave his lips. “i missed it when you both hated each other,” he readjusts his glasses with one hand tiredly. he’s disappointed, but not surprised with satoru’s behavior.

this comment causes itadori, who happened to be hanging out in the teacher’s lounge to perk up.

“gojo-sensei and gojo-san hated each other?” he sits up straight on the couch. the pink haired boy looks between you and satoru, who is purring happily as you play with his hair. “i can’t imagine that..” he mumbles quietly. he was, unfortunately, a first hand witness of gojo’s love for you.

the white haired male that was comfortably nestled in your lap looks up at you, “ah! she tried so hard to resist my charms, but this handsome face won in the end!” his loud boast leads you to cover his mouth with the palm of your hand.

“that couldn’t be farther from the truth,” you press your palm harder against his mouth, determined to silence his protests.

nanami easily ignores his senior’s muffled whines while itadori looks at his sensei in pity. marriage must be tough, he thinks.

you only lift your hand off of his mouth with a shriek when satoru decides to lick your palm. he smirks proudly at himself causing the other two males in the room to grimace at the strange display of affection.

“darling, you hated me?” his eyes blink up at you innocently, blue eyes on full display. you purse your lips together, resisting whatever game he was playing at. from the moment you stepped into the lounge with him, he insisted on taking his blindfold off. he argues that he has to see you with his own eyes or he’ll die. you argue that he’s dramatic. nonetheless, satoru was cute so you’ll let him get away with it.

“hate is a strong word– i just didn’t like you very much. we got off on the wrong foot, might i remind you.”

2005 — year one at tokyo jujutsu tech

meet at 1 chome-1-1 dogenzaka, shibuya city, tokyo

that was written in the letter addressed to you from yaga. the bustling streets of tokyo, filled with the cacophony of hundreds of conversations and the rush of oncoming traffic, were a stark contrast to the serene country life you had enjoyed.

the sheer mass of people in the street made it nearly impossible for you to spot your teacher and future classmates, but the heavens above must be on your side because you spot a dark uniform in the corner of your eye, similar to the one you’re wearing.

a jujutsu tech uniform! without wasting a second, you weave your way through the crowd to the tall figure. upon closer inspection, you find that it was a boy with snow hair, a juxtaposition to the dark fabric of his uniform.

“excuse me, but are you by any chance from–” you tap on the abnormally tall frame from behind.

“not interested.” he doesn’t spare you a glance before walking away. it takes you a minute to process what had just happened. did he just–? that must have been a figment of your imagination. you feel as though you were shell shocked.

another voice joins the conversation, “oh, gojo, you found her.” it was another guy with a uniform just like the white haired boy and yours. he has notable bangs, you think.

“did i? she must be a real weakling. i couldn’t even sense her cursed energy,” gojo now turns back to look at you.

a surge of irritation courses through you, your grip on your skirt tightening. this guy must be some spoiled brat that came from a special lineage. you shoot him a sharp glare from the corner of your eyes, only to find out that he too had a sharp gaze on you.

a low whistle comes out of his mouth.

“oh,” there is a noticeable change in the tone of his voice. from your peripheral vision, you notice him take off his round sunglasses. “hey.” you want to laugh.

out of pure pettiness, you recycle his previous comment, “not interested.”

thankfully, another student arrived, this time it was a girl with short brown hair. she waved at you politely, to which you happily smiled. it was nice to know that there were some people left in this world with manners.

soon after her arrival, yaga comes.

“hello, i’m [last name] [first name] from kyoto. please take care of me!” you bow before everyone but gojo or whatever his name is. you come to find out that mr. bangs is actually geto and the pretty girl is ieiri.

“you didn’t tell me she was hot,” gojo not-so-quietly whispers to geto. the hand over his mouth is in vain because you can still hear him clearly. both ieiri and geto make a distasteful face.

you look around confused. it’s not everyday you receive such a brash compliment, “...thank you?”

there’s a slightly horrified look on gojo’s face when he realizes that you had heard him, but he recovers quickly, replacing it with a cheshire grin.

“say, have you been to shinjuku? i’m sure a country bumpkin like you wouldn’t know, so allow me to–”

there’s only so much patience in your body. with a deep breath and your best passive aggressive smile, you utter, “no thanks.”

he blinks. once. twice. you assume he is not used to rejection with the way he has yet to process it.

a soft chuckle leaves his mouth, “playing hard to get, i see. i like a challenge.”

“that’s not really the case.”

“one date,” he announces with a playful smirk, raising a single finger in emphasis.

you’re on the verge of shaking your head in rejection, but before you can, yaga intervenes, swiftly and unceremoniously slapping the back of gojo’s head.

“kids these days,” he mutters under his breath while gojo rubs the wound painfully. you snicker.

gojo straightens up when the sound of your laughs reaches his ears. his eyes track the sound waves back to your face, only to be disappointed when he sees that your attention is on geto.

unlike gojo, geto was trying to salvage what was left of a good first impression. the black haired male smiles awkwardly, leading you away from his strange friend, “so you’re from kyoto? why didn’t you attend the jujutsu tech there?”

from behind you, there’s an incredulous, “eh? and lose a beauty like that to the kyoto guys?”

you’re nearly certain that a blood vessel is about to pop. but you swallow your frustration, choosing to answer the only sensible boy you’ve met today.

“i’m trying to avoid clan matters, so kyoto is the last place i want to be,” you explain to geto who nods understandingly.

what you don’t see is the sneaky wink he sends back at a fuming satoru.

2018 — present day

your recollection must not have been accurate, because your husband is sulking by the end of your story.

“hmph. that’s not how i remember it.” he crosses his arm with a huff.

“how do you remember it? do tell.” you look down at him. there’s a cheeky glint in his eyes, like you’ve just walked into his trap.

there’s a cheeky glint in his eyes, like you’ve just walked into his trap. “i remembered cherry blossoms falling and more hearts floating around,”

you smack his shoulder.

“be serious!”

he waves his hand in the air to stop your playful attacks, “fine, fine!”

you know that he’s secretly enjoying the attention.

“well, i’m quite the looker so it was common for girls to constantly gush over me y’know?” he grins. you did not find that amusing, retracting your hands from his hair. he immediately grabs your hand and places it back on his head.

“let me finish!”

you resume your handiwork on his head reluctantly. “go on.”

there’s a content smile on his face, “i thought you were just trying to hit on me! it was only after i took a good look at you, i realized that you were totally hot.”

“i can’t believe i married you.” you roll your eyes, but there is no malice behind the action.

“hah–” his mouth is wide open. “i’m a total catch, ya’ know?!”

“mhm, yeah. you are a catch toru,” you coo while pinching his cheek and he blushed furiously.

the two of you are too engrossed with each other to notice the horrified look that has settled on nanami’s face. one peaceful afternoon, he thinks. one peaceful afternoon is all he asks for.

extra notes-

yuji respects gojo as his teacher, but he still can’t believe that gojo was able to pull you.

there have been multiple occasions where you had forgotten to give satoru a goodmorning kiss, each time he finds you and forces you to actually give him a dozen to compensate. it doesn’t matter if he was on a mission or teaching (he’s annoying like that).

gojo’s the pride of the gojo clan so he was spoiled rotten, hence the reason why he was so sure you were into him.

this is only the start, as your high school years go by, he only falls harder.

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojou x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #remember spring days!au

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spideyjimin · 3 months ago

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Bloodlines entwined: IV | jjk

⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child.

— pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader

— genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut

— rating: 18+

— words: 10,073

— warnings: sexual tension, some nervousness, strong language, mention of sex, mention of breakup, mention of pain, crying, teasing, pain, screaming, some panicking, and nudity

— author’s note: this is for now my absolute favorite chapter of this series. so many things happen & it’s a very vulnerable one. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter 🤗 let me know what you think and thanks from the bottom of my heart for the love shown to this series ❤️

Chapter IV: standing next to you

SERIES MASTERLIST | previous | next

Jungkook is patiently waiting for you at the fertility clinic’s entrance.

Today is a special day.

It’s the first day you’ll meet your little baby. However, it’s also a bit of a terrifying day because there’s a possibility that there’s something wrong with the baby.

The werewolf king hasn’t slept at all, too worried about today. Yesterday, you told him about this appointment, and he asked if he could come. How could you say ‘no’ to him? He desires so much to be involved, you can see it in his eyes.

Now that you’re both on the same page about the baby, it feels like you’re on cloud nine. You’re both going to have a child, except it’s definitely not going to be as planned. You were both planning on being alone, but you have each other now.

Jungkook senses you arriving in your car, his eyes completely drawn to you. Feeling your presence from far away is something very new to him; he never experienced it with anybody else. Not even with Yuna. He keeps wondering if it’s because you’re carrying his child, but that doesn’t seem to make any sense.

His entire being is always captivated by you. Whenever you’re around, you’re the only thing that truly matters. There’s something so different about you that he can’t quite explain. Being with you makes him feel good.

As you step out of your car, his eyes lock onto you, completely captivated by your beauty. You’re dressed in sleek black trousers and a white shirt that hints at your cleavage, an effortless yet striking combination. His gaze follows your every move as you open the passenger door to retrieve your long black coat and purse.

The man swallows with difficulty. He finds you extremely beautiful, he’d even say that he has never laid his eyes on someone this pretty. Yuna can’t even compare next to you. And what makes you even prettier is the little life you’re carrying inside you. You’re the mother to his child which is quite a big deal though.

When you notice him, a bright smile appears on your face. His beauty is quite striking, and you wonder how you’ll be able to live a life with such a handsome man. You hope that the baby will take his good looks, because damn, Jungkook is alluring.

His outfit is a bit more casual than yesterday’s, but it’s still more formal than when meeting him at the town square. He’s dressed in blue skinny jeans, a white shirt, and a checked suit jacket. It’s simple, but definitely a great look.

Once you’ve reached him, you actually don’t really know what to do. Do you simply stay in front of him? Or do you kiss on the cheek? Or do you shake his hand?

“A simple kiss on the cheek is enough.”

Jungkook didn’t move his lips at all although you’ve heard him loud and clear in your head.

“Did you say something?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“No,” Jungkook shakes his head.

That’s weird.

However, you decide to follow the voice in you heard—that probably was a hallucination. You get closer to him before pressing a gentle kiss on his squishy cheek. Both of your hearts start beating at the same rapid rhythm. For a moment, Jungkook notices how in synch your hearts are beating, but he doesn’t really give too much credit to it.

“Hello, Jungkook,” you say after the kiss.

“Hi, yn,” he takes a step back to look at you. “Ready?” he asks.

“Yes,” the brightest smile appears on your face.

The two of you head inside the clinic while casually talking about how you’re feeling about this appointment. By the looks of it, Jungkook is more nervous than you. You’re actually not really worried as you constantly hear your child’s heartbeat that grows stronger every day. The only concern there might be is if the baby has any malformation, but even like that, you feel that deep down, you know the baby is just fine.

The doctor—who gave you the extremely bad news of the sample mix-up a month ago—makes her way inside the room after you both got inside. She clearly doesn’t know how to act in front of you, but you decide to smile to put her at ease. On the other side, Jungkook seems closed off, he almost looks pissed.

“Hi Miss y/l/n and Mister Jeon,” she offers you both a smile while she invites you to take a seat.

The two of you sit down before she does the same. Jungkook clearly doesn’t look happy; he seems to still resent her for the mistake made.

“How have you been feeling?” she asks with concern.

“I’m actually doing great,” you inform her.

You look at your right to Jungkook, trying to check his reaction. His dark and intense eyes are fixed on the doctor, leaving you wondering if he’s planning on answering or if he’ll just keep looking at her like he’s about to kill her. By the way his jaw clenches, you assume he’ll ignore her. But, to your surprise, he breaks the tension with a sharp answer.

“Could be better,” he coldly says.

The sharpness in his tone makes you blink. “You could be nicer to her,” those are the words you’d definitely like to say to him, but you resist the urge to call him out. Jungkook turns to you abruptly, his expression unreadable, as always.

“What?” Jungkook asks, his brows furrowing. Your eyes widen as you realize what just happened. He heard you.

“This woman gave me a hundred heart attacks,” he continues. “No way, I’ll be nice to her.”

You stare at each other in silence, your hearts beating rapidly. None of you has moved your lips, but you’ve been mentally talking. This is too wild for you. Jungkook doesn’t understand how on earth that is possible, and you believe that it’s one of those werewolf abilities you’re still discovering.

“Again, I’d like to apologize again for this mistake,” she clears her throat, pulling both of you back into the room. “The costs have been fully refunded to you this week. In principle, you should have already received the reimbursement by now.”

You nod as you remember seeing your bank account increase a lot after receiving the money. It’s honestly so weird to have so much right now, but you’ll transfer most of it to your investment and spare accounts. There’s no way you’ll leave your money to lose value.

While the refund doesn’t erase the mistake, it’s a reminder of how messy this whole situation has been.

“Before we proceed with the ultrasound,” the doctor continues. “I’d like to confirm with you if you’ve made a decision about the pregnancy,” she says.

Jungkook’s unreadable and mysterious face sends shivers down your spine. The energy he radiates is heavier and darker, and you feel the storm growing inside him. He seems to have become a totally different person since entering the room. You know he’s furious at the clinic for their huge mistake, and you understand why. But now, you’ve both decided to keep the baby so in the end, it’s all good.

But still, you need him here, not lost in his anger.

“Yes,” you gently say, offering a small smile before your gaze moves back to the man sitting next to you. “We’ve decided to proceed with the pregnancy.”

“Okay, perfect then!” she seems to relax now.

You can see that he’s holding back, you can sense his anger, but you don’t want to see him like this. You’re about to meet your baby. You place your hand on top of his to gently squeeze it, your thumb tracing soothing circles over his skin.

You instantly see his stiff shoulder relax slightly, and you can sense the heat of his anger vanishing, replaced by something softer, something more vulnerable. You hold onto his hand, willing him to stay calm. He remains quiet, though you can feel him shimmering under the surface. The doctor stands up and gestures toward the next room.

“We can go then do the ultrasound,” she stands up. “How would you like to proceed?”

You’re both confused about her question, not really understanding what she means.

“What do you mean?” you ask, glancing between her and Jungkook.

“This is a pelvic ultrasound,” she explains. “The baby is very small, so we can’t use the standard method.”

“Oh,” you both respond at the same time, the realization dawning on you.

“I’ll leave you then alone,” Jungkook instantly retorts while he shifts in his seat.

“No,” you grab his arm before he can move, your eyes meeting his with determination. “This is your child too. You should be here for the first ultrasound.”

“If you’d prefer,” the doctor starts suggesting. “Mister Jeon can wait outside while you get settled. I’ll ensure your privacy is protected and call him to be next to you once you’re ready.”

You consider her words, appreciating the balance of practicality and respect. This approach seems reasonable, and it might ease Jungkook’s discomfort. You glance at him, silently asking for his agreement. After a moment, he nods.

“Fine,” his voice softens.

The doctor leads you to the room, and Jungkook’s hand lingers on yours for a moment longer before letting you go. Even though he’s not right next to you, you feel his steady presence, grounding you as you prepare to see your baby for this very first time.

Once you’re in the other room, you remove your bottoms. The doctor gestures for you to lie down on the gynecological examination table and place your leg on the stirrups. This is such a vulnerable position, but you’ve been doing this a lot since you started this journey.

This is a room you’ve seen quite a lot, and it almost feels like a second house. The white sterile walls could make you feel uncomfortable, but the soft and calming lighting makes it feel like a warm room. It’s appeasing when you go through this entire process to procreate.

On your right, there is the ultrasound machine and a screen together with the material needed for the ultrasound like the gel. There is also the slim and long transvaginal ultrasound probe. It can look very scary, but it actually doesn’t hurt at all.

“Perfect,” the doctor says once you’re perfectly situated. “I’ll put a little blanket on top to cover you,” she indicates.

You nod with a bit of nervousness. Knowing that Jungkook will see you in this open posture makes you feel a bit anxious. You’ve never come to any gynecologist appointment with any men, not even your exes. It would have felt weird, especially since you were more of a fuck girl. It’s weird to admit it but you’ve always been more comfortable in having sex with somebody than committing to them.

Obviously, you engaged in certain relationships, but it was mostly to try to fill the deep void inside you. There was one man, Elliott with whom you stayed for three years. He’s been the only man who felt right to fall in love with. He treated you right, loved you right, and made you feel right. However, your fear of losing someone special got the best of your relationship.

This breakup knocked you down. You lost someone you deeply loved, just like you lost your parents. Since then, you haven’t engaged in anything with anybody. No dating and no sex. It’s been about focusing on yourself and understanding yourself better. And it’s been two years.

With this entire process of being a mother on your own, it didn’t feel like two years went by.

The doctor leaves for a couple of seconds before reappearing with Jungkook. When your eyes meet, you can tell that this is a first time for him. His facial expression almost indicates some shock to see you in this position. It’s not really glamorous, but for now, that’s how you get to meet your little baby.

Jungkook stands at your left, his eyes going between you and the gynecologist material. A smile grows on your face while you watch him; he looks adorable.

The doctor takes the probe, covers it with a kind of long condom, and puts the gel on it. Jungkook’s eyes widen as he sees it, causing your smile to grow bigger. “Is it going to hurt?” he communicates through his thoughts.

“No, don’t worry,” you answer back before grabbing his hand to squeeze it.

It leaves you wondering how things would have gone if he had done this through surrogacy. Would he be present for the first ultrasound? It would be logical if he was because it is his child, but it would feel weird though. Well, this is probably he will never know since it isn’t about surrogacy anymore.

“Can I?” the doctor asks with the long probe in her hands.

You simply nod, and she proceeds to insert it inside you.

“Just relax,” she tells you.

Jungkook avoids watching down by respect to you, but this is all surprising to him.

The coldness of the device catches you a bit off guard although you should have expected it to be this cool. By reflex, you squeeze Jungkook’s hand, and he obviously starts worrying. However, he caresses the back of your hand with his thumb. Just like the doctor, he wants you to relax.

For a moment, you turn to glance at him. His soft expression calms you down, and right now, you wouldn’t want anyone else to be next to you. It’s weird to think that you like his presence around you when you embarked on this journey by yourself. He wasn’t supposed to be here with you. If the samples hadn’t been mixed up, you’d be here alone.

Suddenly, you can see the image on the monitor move. The doctor is looking for the tiny little piece of life inside you. Then, suddenly, a blurry figure appears, and the baby’s heartbeat breaks the silence of the room.

Even though you’ve been hearing their heartbeat since the first day, hearing it loud and clear makes it emotional. The baby is really alive. His tiny moving heart is clearly visible on the monitor. A little tear of joy streams down your face.

The second the heartbeat can be heard, Jungkook squeezes your hand. His baby—or should he say your baby—is thriving inside your belly. This makes it real; he’s about to become a father. A little Jeon is about to join the family, and that fills his heart with a pride he can’t explain.

The circumstances that created this tiny human—and wolf—aren’t the greatest. But this baby has been more than desired by his two parents. The two of you are exceptionally happy to finally see the baby.

Nothing could have prepared you for this moment. It’s unique. It’s incredible. And it’s heartwarming.

The doctor is speaking in the background, but none of you seems to pay attention to her words. You’re solemnly focused on the tiny blurry figure on the screen. None of you speak; you simply embrace every emotion you feel, and your hands intertwined together. As you see the baby, you feel excited for the upcoming ultrasounds to see them slowly growing.

“All seems to be fine with the baby,” those words push you out of your reverie.

This is all that matters. If the baby is doing great, you don’t care about the rest. Life has been so chaotic lately, and this is the best news you ever got in the past few weeks.

“So, this was our last appointment together,” she explains while removing the probe. “From now on, you’ll have to be followed by your obstetrician. We will contact you throughout the pregnancy and after the birth to check up on you.”

Jungkook is relieved that he won’t have to come back to this place. His eyes look down at your fingers entwined; you’re still holding onto each other. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it out loud, since the first second he saw you, he knows what you truly represent to him.

Since he met you, he’s been experiencing things he never did with anyone else. He’s been having such a strong connection with you. And now, you can even communicate through thoughts. That is a unique bond. A bond you only create with one person only. Your soulmate.

But that’s something Jungkook doesn’t want to admit or believe right now. There has been so much going on right now, and for sure, when everything will slow down, it will probably hit him in the face.

The father of your child leaves the room so you can get dressed. Once ready, you join him in the doctor’s office. He’s patiently waiting for you, and it truly warms your heart to see him here. You take a seat next to him while the doctor proceeds to explain certain things about what’s next with the pregnancy. She gives a bunch of advice which honestly seems to be helpful.

After fifteen minutes, you leave her office with Jungkook. It’s a weird feeling to know you’re never coming back here again. For a couple of months, you’d come quite often, but your project is finally taking place. You’re about to become a mother. A werewolf mother.

The two of you walk in complete silence until your car. You’re both still processing what you just saw and experienced. When you reach your car, you finally look up at him. He’s biting his lower lip, clearly lost in his thoughts.

“You’re okay?” you ask.

His eyes finally meet yours. There’s something in his gaze you’ve never quite seen before. You’re seeing a storm of emotions in them.

You see worry, the weight of responsibility already pressing heavily on his shoulders. You see vulnerability, something he rarely shows, he’s always composed under any circumstances. But beyond all that, there is something else. There’s awe, as though the ultrasound was a moment that truly humbled him. It’s as if he’s beginning to grasp the enormity of what’s happening, of the life growing inside you, and of the connection forming between the three of you.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “It’s just something special to see the little life forming inside you,” he admits.

“It is,” you offer him a little smile.

Jungkook looks so endearing right now, and you just want to hug him tight in your embrace.

“Tomorrow night is the full moon,” he then completely changes the conversation’s topic. “If you’re still okay with it, I’d like you to be at my place.”

This approaching full moon is making you nervous. It’s the first one you’ll experience as a pregnant lady, but it’s also probably going to be your first one where you’ll shift into a wolf shape. And that sounds pretty scary, especially since you’ve known about your werewolf heritage for like three days.

Jungkook takes a step closer, his hand delicately placing a strand of hair behind your ear. This simple gesture sends shivers down your spine, and your heart suddenly beats faster. Your eyes get lost in his, and the world seems to fade away around you as his thumb lightly brushes against your cheek.

Since he has appeared in your life, you’ve been going through lots of ups and downs. He has unveiled the werewolf world to you together with a part of yourself you never knew. It hasn’t been easy, but his presence feels grounding and reassuring. Deep down, you kind of feel that he’s never going to leave you. It’s an unspoken truth that you can’t explain, but somehow, you know.

His face moves dangerously closer to yours until you feel his hot breath on your skin. Your heart hammers faster and faster in your chest, and for a brief moment, nothing else matters. There is no doubt that he’s about to kiss you, and truthfully, there’s nothing else you want more. But a small voice in the back of your mind whispers caution.

Today, you’ve experienced a lot of emotion, especially since you got to see your baby for the first time. You don’t want this kiss to happen because of the intensity of the moment. You want this first kiss to happen because it’s right, because you both want it with absolute clarity, not as a reaction to the whirlwind of feelings you’re navigating.

His nose brushes against yours, his warmth pulling you in, and your lips are a breath away from meeting when you step back. Jungkook blinks, surprised. His eyes search yours, and you can see confusion and even a touch of disappointment in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, he’s definitely too surprised.

“I’ll be at your place tomorrow,” you say, your voice soft but steady. “Just send me the details.”

Before he can say anything, you jump in your car and slip away, your pulse still racing. As you’re driving, you try to steady your thoughts, pushing aside what almost happened. You’re not ready. Not just yet.

Following Jungkook’s address, your car slows down as you approach an imposing set of gates. Massive iron bars stand tall against the backdrop of the dense woods surrounding the estate, their presence as commanding as the man you’re here to meet.

You stop and glance around from your windshield before you leave the car. Beyond the gates, the large trees hide the driveway and the house. Your imagination starts to fill in the blanks. He’s the king, after all. His home must be grand, maybe even overwhelming.

On the wall beside the gate, a modern intercom system catches your eye. A silver button gleams in the sunlight, its simple design contrasting with the timeless feel of the gates. Your hand hovers near the button as you still look around you. You feel so small, standing here at the threshold of Jungkook’s world; one you’re not entirely sure to belong yet.

Taking a deep breath, you press the button. Barely seconds later, a voice is heard through the intercom.

“Hello,” you don’t recognize the voice. “How can I help you?”

Well, as the king, it wouldn’t surprise you that he has people working for him. He couldn’t possibly take care of his house by himself.

“Hello, I’m yn,” you say. “I was invited by Jung… Mister Jeon,” you answer.

“Hello, miss y/l/n, we were waiting for you,” the voice says. “Please follow the road to the mansion.”

The impressive gates move to let you enter Jungkook’s estate. You instantly jump back into your car before starting the engine. Very carefully and slowly, you drive through the road, your eyes wandering around you. This is definitely a very impressive state, and there’s absolutely no doubt that the father of your child is wealthy.

After a little while, a sprawling, stone-clad mansion with dark and earthy tones comes into view. The architecture is both ancient and timeless, with arches windows, and carved details that hint at its long history. You can’t believe this is where Jungkook lives, and it also leaves you wondering if this is where your child is going to grow up. Well, most probably yes.

An impressive courtyard suddenly appears, and it’s surrounded by well-manicured gardens that lead into the untamed wilderness of the forest. It’s simply incredible.

You don’t really know where to stop your car, but a man dressed in black clothing runs in your direction. In order to not make him run more, you halt and roll down the window. He’s out of breath when he reaches you.

“Miss y/l/n,” he manages to say, and you offer him a little smile. “Please follow me with your car to the parking spot.”

The man starts walking again, and this time you follow his direction. Everything about this seems unreal. A month ago, you totally ignored werewolves existed; you were planning everything to welcome a baby. And today, you’re here. You’re about to enter the mansion of the Werewolf King, and the father of your baby.

Seconds later, the man indicates where you can park. Once you stop the engine, the man opens the door for you. Wow, this is a first time, but you deeply appreciate it even though it wasn’t necessary.

“Thanks,” you say as you step out.

“You’re welcome,” he bows. “Would you have any luggage with you?” he asks.

For a moment, you take a look at the man. This is definitely a footman, Jungkook’s personal footman. Honestly, this feels like being in one of those Christmas movies where a random girl meets a prince or king and they fall in love. However, in this case, you don’t fall in love and you share a kid.

“Yes,” you answer. “But don’t worry, I’ll take it.”

The man shakes his head. “I got personal orders from Mister Jeon to take care of it,” he says. “And I would also never leave a pregnant woman carry her luggage.”

Seems like you don’t have much to say here. He’s following his boss’ orders, and based on what you see, Jungkook won’t allow any rule to be unfollowed. And you’ll also feel guilty if anything happens to this man because of you.

“Okay,” you admit in defeat. “Then, let me just open the trunk.”

The man follows you and instantly grabs your small luggage when the trunk is opened. It’s honestly super weird, and if everything will be like this tonight, you’re not sure you’ll get used to it. For sure, Jungkook undoubtedly grew up in the middle of all this, but this is new to you.

“Please follow me,” he repeats.

Now that you’re closer to the mansion, you get to see every detail. The front features a massive, double-door entrance made of dark and polished wood, with ornate iron handles. There are also some stone statues around the façade, giving an air of mystery and foreboding.

Jungkook is standing in front of the door, with a little smile on his face. Honestly, you weren’t expecting to see him right here. You thought that his footman would guide you to a living room, or a study where his boss would be sitting and waiting for you.

“Thanks, Jinwoo,” Jungkook says to his footman.

The man bows before entering the mansion with your luggage in your hand. As you stand before Jungkook, you realize now that he’s a king. It feels instinctual to bow. Kings are meant to be respected and acknowledged for their status. Your knees slightly bend, and your head dips forward, but before you fully bow, his voice cuts through your thoughts.

“No need,” he murmurs in your mind. “You don’t have to do it with me.”

His voice holds a quiet authority, but there’s also something else. Something unspoken, almost tender. For a moment, you hesitate. Bowing feels like the respectful, appropriate thing to do, but his response leaves you questioning the boundaries of his role in your life.

“Are you sure?”

His piercing and dark eyes meet yours, unwavering and resolute. “I am,” he answers, his tone leaving no room for argument even if he’s speaking through your mind.

The intensity of his gaze makes your breath hitch as if he’s reaching past your thoughts and speaking directly to the very core of you. And then, something changes in the air between you. It’s not just his words that stop you. It’s the way he’s looking at you. His expression is almost wounded.

Now, you wonder if you offended him, and the guilt begins to creep in. You’ve never met someone who held so much power yet dismissed the formalities that come with it.

For Jungkook, the title of king isn’t just about wearing a crown. It’s a mantle he bears with pride and responsibility. But when it comes to you, it’s as if he wants to strip away the formalities, the hierarchies, the distance. He doesn’t want you to see him as a king. He wants you to see him for who he truly is.

With you, everything is simply different. When you met him, you totally ignored that he was a king. Every time you met, you would treat him as anybody else, and honestly, it felt great. He wasn’t a king. He simply was Jungkook.

“You’re different,” his voice softly brushes your mind again.

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and the tension in your body slowly fades away. You try to let go of the urge to bow even though it feels weird. His strong presence almost commands reverence, but he made it clear: he doesn’t want that from you.

Jungkook gets closer, his hand brushing against your cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Briefly, you close your eyes to savor the sweet contact of his skin against yours. This brings you back to yesterday when you were about to kiss. You regret how you walk away, especially since you desperately wanted to kiss him, but it’s better like this.

“Thank you,” you say as you open your eyes.

This sense of equality he’s extending to you warms your heart. Jungkook nods, his eyes softening before he takes a step back. This man is such a mystery, but it’s evident that he’s carrying so much on his shoulder. So much history, duty, and perhaps even loneliness that he tries to hide.

“Hi, yn,” he then says out loud as if you’re speaking for the first time.

“Hello, Jungkook,” you reply with a little smile growing on your face.

“How was the road?” he gestures for you to come inside.

As the gentleman he has proven to be, he lets you walk inside his house first. You’re welcomed with a grand double staircase made of white marble, a marble that matches the floor beneath your feet. Along the walls of the stairs, there are hanging paintings of people. Probably Jungkook’s ancestors.

In the middle, a massive chandelier made of iron is hanging. The walls are impressively high, giving this space a grandiose aspect. This is for sure the kind of place you never thought of seeing in your life. Everything about this room screams ancient and power.

“The trip was fine,” you answer while your eyes get lost. “Although I thought at some point that I got lost,” you explain, your eyes now looking at the man behind you. “This is kind of in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “As a werewolf king, it would be weird if I wasn’t surrounded by a forest.”

“It makes sense,” you admit. “But still, I was really about to call you with despair.”

Somehow, you can see in his eyes that he would have loved that. Saving the damsel in distress, but that’s not for you. There’s no need to save you, you can manage by yourself.

“You were about to call me?” he smirks with evident amusement in his voice. “I wouldn’t have minded. It’s not every day that I get to play the hero.”

You hold back the urge to roll your eyes.

“Don’t get used to the idea. I can handle myself just fine,” you answer while crossing your arms with a small smile appearing on your face.

Jungkook tilts his head slightly while his smirk deepens. “Oh, I know,” his voice is softer now and his eyes are shining with admiration. “That’s one of the things I like about you.”

At his words, you can feel the heat beneath your cheeks. You weren’t expecting him to compliment you while insinuating that he has a way too big estate, but you take the compliment.

Your child’s father proceeds then to make a little home tour. For sure, he doesn’t show you all the rooms as it is not needed. The first thing he shows you is the bedroom you’ll be staying in tonight. It’s located on the second floor, and the decoration is very simple. It’s a king-size bed with two nightstands and some furniture. Your luggage is already placed on a fancy bench.

A bit further on the second floor, there is the dining room. You’ll be eating here tonight before it gets dark. Apparently, it’s important to eat well and enough before taking a wolf shape. It helps to calm down the hunger, and it lowers the risk to kill someone or an animal.

On the third floor, there is his magnificent bedroom. It’s extremely big, you’d say your entire apartment fits in the room. It’s also very well decorated; there are many pictures and paintings, and the room breaths ‘Jungkook’. However, the most impressive part is the large walk-in wardrobe. He has a remarkable quantity of clothes.

Then, he guides you outside to an outbuilding. It’s a very rustic, ancient, and a big one, but it looks cute even though it’s a bit far from the main house. However, what stands out more is the strong smell. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s something that definitely draws you.

“So, this place was built for the full moons,” he begins to explain. “This is where we shift, and it avoids destroying the prestigious house my ancestors built. It’s also closer to the woods.”

As you get closer, the scent grows stronger.

“My ancestors also placed something in the walls to attract us. When we shift the scent is even stronger than now, and it was made in case we get out of control. That way, we won’t be going to the main house. It was made to protect the humans living in our house,” you nod at his explanation.

Jungkook opens the door, letting you in first. There’s absolutely nothing in this room, except for a fridge.

“I don’t really use this room anymore,” he explains.

“Do you completely control your transformation?” you ask.

“Yep, that’s the perk of being an Alpha and a King,” he explains. “I’m not influenced by the moon’s phases anymore, but I’ll be with you tonight.”

“And for normal werewolves, at what moment of the full moon do they start changing?” you ask with curiosity.

You need to mentally prepare yourself for what’s coming, there are so many unknowns. For sure, Jungkook will guide you every step of the way tonight, but you still want to know what is going to happen.

“As soon as the sun is down,” he says.

“Okay,” you reply.

For a moment, you just look at this empty room, your heart beating crazily in your chest. Seeing this makes you realize that maybe tonight, you’ll shift into a wolf. It’s a reminder of the heritage your parents hid from you all these years. Not only is this extremely scary, but it’s even more because you’ll have to do it without your parents; the people you loved the most.

“I’m scared, Jungkook,” you turn around to look at him. “So so scared,” you admit.

Jungkook comes closer, his right hand grabbing your left one. His thumb caresses the back of your hand, trying to comfort you as much as possible.

“I understand,” his voice is soft. “This is all new to you, and you’re pushed right through the possibility of shifting into a wolf. I’m sorry this is all happening to you, and I wish things were different.”

He pauses for a moment, his gaze locked onto yours. “No matter what happens, I’ll be right here, standing next to you.”

You squeeze his hand while you whisper, “Thank you.” His support undeniably means a lot to you, you’re not sure you’d be able to go through this without him.

“If I could, I’d take your place in a heartbeat,” he continues. “I’d take all the pain and carry this burden if it meant you didn’t have to suffer. I wouldn’t hesitate, not even for a second.”

Without any hesitation, you throw yourself into his arms to hug him. Pressing a cheek against his chest, you close your eyes. His warmth seems to melt away all the tension in your body. Jungkook has been giving you the comfort of knowing that you don’t have to face everything alone. He’s taken a bit aback, but he wraps his strong arms around you, holding you tight against him.

His lips press a gentle kiss on your head while you remain in this position for a little while. His heartbeat appeases your soul, and it’s the only sound that you hear. In the midst of all this chaos, you’re grateful you found Jungkook.

After dinner, with Jungkook, you go to the outbuilding. But before doing so, he hands you a ‘special’ outfit. It looks like a sporty outfit; it’s made of a black top with black leggings. However, it’s made of a very stretchy fabric.

Jungkook explained that his family developed an outfit capable of resisting the transformation some years ago. Instead of getting ripped off, the fabric detaches when you shift. Once you get back to your human form, you can easily put it back. Apparently, there are magnets inside.

It’s honestly impressive, but, at the same time, not surprising. It’s the royal family that we’re talking about. They have the means to create something like that.

Jungkook’s a big fan of this fabric; all his clothes are made of it. Since he’s not influenced by the moon, he needs adaptive clothes for whenever he wants or needs to turn into a wolf. He also mentioned that it’s very comfortable, which definitely is the case.

“This is impressive,” you say as you’re walking.

The man walking next to you is wearing a long-sleeved white shirt with baggy grey pants. He looks incredibly fine, but you try to avoid looking at him. You don’t want to seem like you’re obsessed with him when you’ve known him for like a month.

“Yep, it is,” he smiles at you.

Jungkook is unable to look away, you look like a damn walking meal. He’s very much aware that he’s attracted to you, otherwise, he wouldn’t have tried to kiss you the other day. But the damn full moon always intensifies any physical attraction. His eyes even still glance at your fine ass. Thankfully, you don’t notice anything.

Once you reach the outbuilding, you put down all the things you brought with you. There are some snacks, two blankets, and extra clothing in case something happens. Jungkook doesn’t fully close the door behind you because if he does so, you’ll be stuck here and might destroy everything.

Since the sun hasn’t fully set yet, you sit down on the floor with Jungkook.

“How was your first transformation?” you ask with curiosity.

“It wasn’t great,” he admits. “It was the day after I turned ten, and I didn’t want to shift. And believe me, resisting it is painful as hell,” he confesses. “On top of that, I was really angry so when I became a wolf, I was out of control. My father didn’t manage to catch me up when I was out in the woods, but he found me when I turned back to human. I was crying like a baby, and I couldn’t remember a damn thing. My father later found out that I had attacked somebody, but thankfully, nothing too bad.”

This doesn’t really reassure you. If Jungkook didn’t have a great first experience, how would be yours? Will you kill someone? Will you also lose control? Also, you’re pregnant so it might be even worse.

“Being a wolf is something I didn’t embrace for a long time, especially since I knew I would eventually become a king,” he confesses. “So for a solid two years, every full moon was extremely painful. Once I accepted it, everything became easier, but I was very young.”

“So our child will also have their first transformation at ten?” you ask, and he nods.

By then, you might probably be able to help your child as you would have gone through ten years of full moons. But that doesn’t change the fact that, right now, it seems scary.

“With my blood, our child will live this wolf experience very differently than any other werewolf. They will be a king or queen so they must be stronger and better prepared than anybody else.”

This kid seems to have gotten the golden ticket to be ‘special’. Merely a month ago, you thought this child would be a totally normal kid, but then, Jungkook proved you wrong.

“The fact that I’m from a different pack won’t have any impact?” you ask.

“Nope,” he shakes his head. “The royal blood is stronger than any other.”

“So I’m basically just carrying your child,” you jokingly say. “It’s like I don’t contribute at all.”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s in the mood to tease you back.

“Carrying our child,” he corrects with a smirk, leaning in slightly. “And trust me, your contribution is very… memorable,” he whispers in your ear.

Shivers run down your spine, and the playful and cheerful mood has been replaced by something more heavy. By something hotter. And man, you crave so damn much to kiss this man. How will you survive this night with him by your side?

His face is way too close to yours, his eyes now locked on yours. His hot breath caresses your face, and his gaze is filled with lust. The two of you look at each other’s lips with so much desire. The attraction you feel towards him seems to grow bigger and bigger every day. You’re sure you’ll end up giving in, but you haven’t changed your mind. This kiss needs to happen because you’re both sure about it.

You clear your throat before straightening up. Jungkook instantly retreats, sitting the way he was before getting too close.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay,” you say.

In the blink of an eye, the sun goes down, and the moon lights up through the darkness of the night. At first, you don’t really feel anything, you’re even convinced you’ll easily navigate through this night. But very slowly, the pain intensifies as your bones and muscles realign into a form they never took before. Everything inside you is moving. Everything inside you is being torn apart. It feels like someone is pulling you in two different directions. You’ve never experienced this kind of pain.

“Jungkook,” you almost scream as the bones of your right arm move. “Help me.”

Tears run down your face, and Jungkook cups your face in his hands. His thumbs clean the tears on your cheeks. He’s on his knees just like you so he can be at your level. It’s impossible for you to be standing or sitting because of all the things changing in your body right now.

His eyes are full of fear and pain as he obviously can’t do anything but watch you go through this. Obviously, he can understand the intensity of the pain you feel, but he can’t take the pain away. He has healing powers, but they don’t work for this kind of scenario.

“I’m so scared.”

“I know,” he answers. “Don’t fight it, just embrace the pain. Scream at every moving bone. Scream when your muscles tear. But don’t hold anything back.”

You nod, your eyes don’t leave his as they seem to anchor you in some kind of way.

“You can do this,” he encourages you. “You’re so fucking strong.”

The next couple of minutes that feel like hours, you spend them screaming with pain. You understand now why the first full moon is painful. It’s the first time that your body adapts to your wolf shape. A wolf and a human are very much different.

“You’re doing so great, yn,” his thumbs caress your cheeks. “You’re doing so well,” he repeats.

Suddenly, Jungkook sees your eyes becoming blue, and he mimics you, his eyes now turning red. The man in front of you decides to turn at the same pace so you don’t feel alone in this. For sure, it’s not quite the same, but at least, by the time, you’re fully a wolf, he’ll be as well.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Then, out of the blue, you feel the baby moving, and your hand instantly goes to your stomach. Your ears try to find the sound of his heartbeat, but you don’t find it.

“Something’s wrong?” Jungkook is looking at you with worry.

“The baby,” you simply answer, and Jungkook frowns. “I don’t hear the heartbeat.”

“Don’t worry, yn,” he says. “I hear it.”

“But I don’t,” you start crying.

Jungkook begins imitating the baby’s heartbeat to help you find it. Following his voice, you try to find the heartbeat, but you can’t. You never stop trying because right now, that’s what you need. You need to ensure your baby’s safety. This is already very painful and if on top of that, you lose your baby, it’ll be the end of you.

Swiftly, the heartbeat echoes in your ears which appeases your soul instantly. Right there, you notice the claws appearing in your hands. It’s impressive to see it coming from your body. It feels unreal. Your body is changing, transforming into something you don’t know. At the same time, you can sense his hands changing against your cheeks. It doesn’t hurt, but his skin texture is different.

After that, your teeth and ears change as well. Jungkook’s hands leave your face to give you room while you go through this transformation. And for a while, you remain like that, stuck in between your human and wolf shapes. However, the pain doesn’t fade away. It’s still there, but nothing has changed. Jungkook starts to pick up the despair in your eyes. You’re panicking.

“Yn,” he lifts your chin to make you look at him.

His red wolfy eyes meet your blue ones.

“I’m a failure, Jungkook,” you whisper.

Your cheeks are ravaged by the tears that have been running down your face since the beginning. It’s such a heartbreaking vision.

“I can’t even fully turn into a wolf.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he halts you before you add anything else. “Don’t say that. You’re far from being a failure.”

His fingers brush your chin with tenderness which soothes you.

“You’re fucking brave, yn,” he continues. “You tragically lost your parents, you’ve recently found out about you and this heritage, and since you’re ten, you’ve been navigating life in the most heartbreaking way,” he reassures you. “You’re doing way better than a lot of us, and we had at least ten years to prepare.”

His red eyes don’t ever look away from you. Even though they have a wolf aspect, you can see how soft his expression is.

“It’s okay to be scared, but I’m here. You’re not alone in this.”

You nod with tears still running down your face.

“Just let this happen, don’t fight it,” his voice is calm. “Take a deep breath and don’t focus on the pain.”

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and you try to focus on something other than the pain. Jungkook’s calm heartbeat invades your senses, and you decide to use it as an anchor. You decide to focus on it to forget about the pain.

Slowly, you feel your body complete the shift. Fur spreads over your skin, your hands become paws, and the clothes covering your body are now on the floor. The world around you now feels vivid and alive.

Your vision is totally different, and your senses are heightened. Everything seems to stimulate you, but somehow, you still manage to not react to everything.

“How do you feel?” Jungkook asks.

“The pain is completely gone,” you telepathically say.

Even if you deeply desire to speak, in this shape, you can’t say much except growl. However, you can still have a conversation with him through your thoughts. It’s honestly quite a useful.

“And everything feels different, but it’s fine so far,” you add.

He tilts his head, slightly confused.

“Okay, this is new,” he says. “Usually, people leave their human side when they turn,” he informs you. “But it’s good if you still have your human side while being a wolf.”

Jungkook shifts into his wolf form, and you’re blown away. A large wolf has now replaced the man standing in front of you. He’s even more impressive as a wolf than as a human. His stature is intimidating yet majestic, exuding both dominance and grace.

His fur is a blend of silvery grey and white, making his red eyes stand out a lot. His eye color adds an intense energy to his appearance, signifying his role as the king and the immense power he holds.

“Like what you see?” his voice echoes in your mind.

Even though you don’t have a human aspect anymore, you still feel your face get hot. You look away with shyness.

“You’re so majestic,” you admit.

“I’m supposed to be the king,” he answers while his muzzle appears in front of you. “I know I have a more imposing stature as a wolf.”

This is all so crazy. Never in a billion years would have you thought this was going to happen. You’ve turned into a wolf with a guy that is a werewolf king. On top of that, you’re calmly speaking with a wolf as if it’s the most normal thing.

“What color is my fur?” you ask with curiosity.

“It’s a deep dark brown,” he says while his eyes glance at you. “Very pretty color.”

Is this man going to make you blush all night long?

“Thanks,” your eyes don’t look away this time.

Jungkook now shows you how to walk, move, and adjust to your new body. Every step feels foreign, it feels like you’re learning how to walk again. As you’re walking towards the door, you have this feeling that you’re walking like an injured dog. But it’s your first time, you can’t be harsh with yourself.

The two of you head towards the door that opens to the woods. At first, you stumble slightly because your legs feel strange. But slowly, you realize that you’re walking. Really walking. The ground under your paws feels solid, reassuring. The more you move, the more natural it becomes.

As you walk towards the forest, you start to gain confidence, and it makes you feel powerful and free. It’s not easy to describe, a mix of awe and exhilaration that courses through your veins. Never in your life have you felt this way. It’s like this new form isn’t just a part of you—it’s always been waiting for you to claim it.

Your heart beats faster, not with fear, but with an exciting sense of possibility. You glance at Jungkook, whose red eyes shine under the moonlight. He senses your transformation is more than just physical. He gives you an encouraging look before he runs, his sleek sliver-and-white fur shining under the moon.

Jungkook keeps looking back at you to make sure you’re following him. However, you take your time because you want to adjust to this new reality. Slowly, you begin to move, your steps becoming steadier with each passing second.

As you enter the depths of the forest, you realize how deeper everything feels around you. It’s like you’re discovering for the first time what it feels like to be walking in the woods. The earthy scent of the moss and leaves fills your nostrils like never before. You feel every blade of grass under your paws, and the night wind brushes through your fur, sending delightful shivers down your spine.

Over your head, the full moon glows in the dark, and its energy courses through you and heightens every sensation. It’s overwhelming but in the best possible way.

You push forward, your paws digging into the earth as you pick up speed. Jungkook slows down, waiting for you to catch up. His glowing red eyes are filled with pride and encouragement, and he swears he has never seen something as beautiful. Watching you discover everything he has taken for granted is heartwarming.

When you finally reach him, you stand next to him for a moment before you run past him. He’s definitely surprised, and soon, he’s running beside you. For the first time, you don’t struggle to keep up. You’re racing with him, your movements fluid and sure. The two of you snake through the trees, your bodies moving as though they’re part of the forest. You’ve never felt so alive, so connected to the world around you.

Jungkook keeps a steady pace beside you, and his presence grounds you in this surreal moment. You really can’t describe the feeling of having the wind rushing through your fur as you run. Eventually, you end up slowing to a stop in a clearing bathed in moonlight. Your breathing is heavy, but your heart has never felt this light before.

Jungkook steps closer, his voice echoing in your mind: “You did it.”

You look at the father of your child and realize this is so much more than just a transformation. It’s a bond, a shared experience you’ll for sure never forget. As overwhelming as it’s all been, you wouldn’t trade it for anything. You wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world.

This is your new reality, and it surprisingly feels like home.

“I did it,” you think to yourself, but Jungkook hears it.

The wolf next to you has never felt so much pride over someone turning into a wolf. He was present when his younger siblings made their first steps as wolves, and even though he was very proud of them, with you, it’s completely different. And he wonders if he will feel even more pride once your baby shifts for the first time.

For the rest of the night, you just walk through the woods, flirting with the city’s limits. Jungkook’s own forest seems to know no end, but it definitely gives you all the space you need to freely run. Surprisingly, you don’t meet any other wolf, but you don’t mind. You’re just too thrilled to discover this new body.

“It’s time to go back,” Jungkook informs you as he notices the darkness of the night leaving room for the sun’s light.

The father of your child guides you back to his outbuilding. Since you have no clue where you are, you simply follow him. Very quickly, you reach the large space. This time around, Jungkook closes the door once you’re both inside.

“So,” he stands in front of you. “To shift back to your human form is easier, but it’s more emotionally draining,” he explains. “It’s not painful, but it’ll take a lot of energy from you.”

You nod, it’s logical that it also contains its fair share of difficulty. Now, you just need to know how to go back to your human form.

“What do I need to do?” you ask.

“You need to set free the wolf inside you,” he tells you. “And visualize yourself as human.”

Well, seems easier said than done. How do you even set the wolf free? You’re definitely not very very sure how you should approach this, but you’ll try.

You close your eyes, but all you can think of is how you felt tonight. This has been by far one of the best experiences of your life. It was painful—you won’t hide it, but the aftermath made it worth it. You’d go through that pain again just to be able to walk so freely.

For a moment, it’s all you can think about, and it doesn’t help to shift you back into your ‘normal’ self. Then, you open your eyes and watch Jungkook.

“I don’t know how to do that,” you say.

The impressive wolf standing in front of you seems to think. He doesn’t really know what to tell you, he’s been able to shift so easily for over fifteen years. It’s easy to guide someone through the pain, but when there isn’t any, he simply doesn’t know what to say.

“Maybe try to think of someone you cherish, or a good memory, or at least, something that makes you happy.”

For the second time, you close your eyes. Your mind runs through all the positive events you lived, and one stands out from all of them. It’s a memory with your dad.

When you were little, you’d love to go to the shopping street downtown. There were always tons of people—something deeply annoying—, but you’d love to run through every store window to look inside. Your father would go to some of them to buy ‘grown-up’ things. You don’t remember what it was exactly because you didn’t really care back then. All you wanted was to see everything the store had.

At the end, there would be a pretty big café. If you’d behave well, you had the right to eat a pastry with orange juice. Obviously, you’d always make sure to wear your best behavior because the reward was worth it. For the pastry, you’d always go for a croissant with chocolate in it. Every time, you’d hope that the café would have this croissant. If not, you’d take whatever there was.

Your father would always take an espresso with a cheese toast. The smell of his coffee would always comfort you. Even right now, you can still smell it, and it has the same comforting effect. Those are the most precious souvenirs you have with your father.

After his passing, you never went back to that café. Felix tried to bring you there, but you’d refuse. You didn’t want to replace the souvenirs with your father. This café was your dad’s and yours, nobody else's. A little tear runs down your face as you remember that you’ll never be able to create new memories with him in that special place.

Without realizing it, you slowly shift back into your human form. When you realize it, you slowly open your eyes while standing up. Jungkook is still a wolf, but in a matter of seconds, he’s back to being a human.

Your eyes widen when you’re graced with a naked Jungkook, and you instinctively put your hands in front of your eyes. You weren’t really expecting this, and especially, to see this man naked any time soon. He chuckles, but then, it hits you— you’re naked as well.

“Shit,” you mumble.

Then, his warm hands wrap a blanket around you. You uncover your eyes to look back again at the werewolf king. He’s still very much bare, and you try to avoid staring below his chest. It feels totally inappropriate.

“Thanks,” you offer him a little smile.

To your surprise, his right arm is fully covered in tattoos. Honestly, you would have never imagined him with body art. He doesn’t give the type; perhaps it’s because he’s a king. Actually, you’ve never pictured any king adorned with such markings. And it truly makes him look a million times hotter.

Let’s not even talk about his toned figure…

Your eyes can’t help but be drawn to his body. His squared and broad shoulders look like they were carved from stone, and his muscular torso is just as well mesmerizing. The way his chest rises and falls with each breath is hypnotic, and for a moment, you can almost feel the raw power lying beneath his skin.

Your eyes linger longer than they should, and you suddenly find it hard to meet his eyes again. You can’t deny it—his presence is utterly magnetic, and it stirs something deep within you.

Suddenly, you’re violently hit by the fatigue. You didn’t see that coming, but after this amazing night, it’s normal.

Jungkook grabs the clothes on the floor, and you turn around so you don’t stare any longer at him—or should you say drool over him. He looks way too good for his own good. While looking at the wall facing you, you yawn and rub your eyes. You really need to sleep now.

“You’re tired?” Jungkook asks.

“Very,” you answer.

The man appears in front of you, fully dressed with a smile on his face. His cute face contrasts a lot with his very muscular body.

“Let me take you back home,” he says when he realizes just how tired you truly are. And before you even know it, you’re in his arms while he carries you to his mansion.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts imagine #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bloodlines entwined #bloodlines entwined: chapter 4 #spideyjimin

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buckyalpine · 6 months ago

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I love Bucky loving his body. I love Bucky loved by the team. I love Bucky having his happy ending with a family. Imagine Bucky lounging around the sofa with his little baby girl tucked in his arm, her sweet face covered in frosting after smothering half of her cupcake onto her cheeks. The icing is bright red just like Tony's suit and it's his birthday party afterall, so everything is in full swing. Most of the cupcake is squished between her fingers, very little actually making it into her mouth but Bucky doesn't mind. He chuckles, watching her with heart eyes as she happily smears it onto his crisp white shirt, babbling and cooing, now sucking her thumb.

He is absolutely unbothered by this, all he sees is his happy little baby with her cheeky smile licking up all the frosting just like her mama. While Bucky couldn't care less about his shirt, a few others certainly did.

"Better get dunk that shirt into a bucket of tide pens Barnes" Clint snorted.

"Actually the quicker you get it off, the less likely it is to stain. Take it off now" Tony's voice went from fatherly advice to a seductive growl making Bucky's face twist in amusement, pink starting to color his cheeks.

"Yeah, give the little munchkin to y/n and take it off. Cause of the stain" Nat agreed, cocking an eyebrow. You giggled watching the scene unfold before you, your husband growing bashfully shy.

"Can't hurt punk" Steve shrugged and Bucky's eyes nearly popped out of his head until he realized his best friend had been nursing a rather large glass of Asgardian mead. Tipsy Steve was always a little bit of a pervert...

"I-

"For the stain"

"I think you just want me to take my shirt off" Bucky huffed while you grinned, giving his cheek a peck before taking your little princess in your arms.

"Can't blame them handsome, c'mon, show em' how lucky I am" you whisper and that sells it. Couldn't hurt and since they were all asking...

"Just take it off!" Nat howled with a wink, a bunch of whistles when Bucky sighed, indulging the team a little. He unbuttons his shirt and hands it off to a genuinely concerned Sam who would normally make sure the shirt got sent to the cleaners but this is too good so he throws it into a bucket of cold water and is back within seconds.

"Good God"

"Jesus"

"You look fuckin' good terminator"

"Alright, alright" Bucky holds his hands up, unable to stop the way his ears are bright red, shaking his head when you blow him a kiss making him blush more.

"Body shots!"

"What?"

"Yes"

Tony's eyes glimmer with excitement, and Bucky snorts, loving the way you egg him on, his daughter also squealing with excitement.

"Go on Sarge, y'know you look good"

He lies down on the bar table, surrounded by just the team, abs beautifully flexed as Nat pours a generous amount of some type of alcohol right on his belly button.

"When else will we get this lucky" She says with a playful smirk while Steve cracks his knuckles.

"Why are you cracking your knuckles, what the hell do you plan on-

"ME FIRST" He doesn't give anyone a chance, face planting himself into Bucky's tummy, his lips sealed, drinking every bit of the burning liquor with a satisfied hum.

"How much has he had to drink"

"Who cares, me next"

"I think you've licked enough of my husband"

"You get him all the time, don't be greedy"

"That cute little chubby ball of frosting and giggles is enough evidence you get him every which way, besides isn't there another one cooking, y'can't have any now git"

"Blink twice if you need help"

"Bro looks like an angel"

"Why aren't you blinking"

"Crafted by the heavens"

"You like this, don't you"

Bucky can't help but chuckle, surrounded by idiots. Drunk idiots. His wife. His baby girl. Another little one on the way. All who love him. Would protect him. Life was good.

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seospicybin · 2 months ago

Text

COCKY.

CHAPTER II.

Bangchan x reader. (s,f)

Chapters: Chapter I

Synopsis: As a researcher developing a specialized condom in extra large sizes, you never expected the company’s product manager, Chris, to volunteer as a test subject—let alone for things to get this complicated. Balancing professionalism with undeniable chemistry, you must navigate a partnership that’s strictly business… or so you keep telling yourself. (19,8k words)

Author's note: Hope you can handle the amount of cockiness in this one. Pls share your thoughts on it after, enjoy ♡

As you step into the lab this morning, you expect a normal start to your day—running tests, reviewing reports, maybe dealing with Jane’s ongoing stress about her own project. But as soon as you walk in, you realize something is off.

There’s a man standing in the middle of the room, casually looking around as if he belongs there. You pause for a second, taking him in—he’s effortlessly handsome, with sharp, playful eyes that hold a spark of mischief. His dark hair is slightly tousled, as if he just ran a hand through it. The confidence in his posture is undeniable, his toned frame draped in a worn-out leather jacket over a plain white t-shirt. When he notices you, his lips curl into a smirk that suggests he’s already enjoying himself.

He notices you before you can say anything, turning to face you fully. A slow smirk tugs at the corners of his lips as he offers his hand.

"Finally, I was starting to think I had the wrong lab," he says with a playful lilt to it.

You straighten your shoulders, keeping your expression neutral as you carefully ask, “I'm sorry but who are you?”

“Han Jisung,” he introduces himself, his voice smooth and teasing as he holds his hand out at you. “Your new test subject.”

You blink. Of all the things you expected today, this was definitely not one of them. You shake his hand briefly, noting the warmth of his grip before pulling away. “Right. Thanks for coming in.”

He chuckles, tilting his head as he studies you. “Not the reaction I was expecting. Do all your test subjects get this warm welcome, or am I special?”

You keep your professionalism intact, offering a polite but firm smile. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Han takes a seat across from you, draping himself over the chair like he’s settling in for an entertaining conversation rather than a clinical interview. You step over to the counter and grab a disposable cup, filling it with the freshly brewed coffee that had been keeping you company all morning.

“Here,” you say, placing it in front of him as you take a seat across from him at the cold lab table.

He raises a brow, lifting the cup to his lips. “Well, this is already better than most first dates.”

You roll your eyes but don’t entertain the comment. “Before we begin, let me explain what we’re doing today. This session is purely an interview. We’ll go over your medical history, habits, and other necessary details to make sure you’re a suitable candidate for testing the product.”

Han takes a slow sip, eyes locked onto yours over the rim of the cup. “So no hands-on testing today?”

“Not today,” you confirm with an easy chuckle.

He hums thoughtfully. “Guess I’ll just have to be patient.”

You choose to ignore that and pick up your clipboard, clicking your pen. “Alright, let’s start with some basic questions. Your full name?”

“Han Jisung,” he replies smoothly.

“Age?”

“Twenty-four,” he says. “But if you’re into older guys, I can lie.”

You hold back a sigh and move on. “Occupation?”

“Sound engineer. Freelance.”

“Are you sexually active?”

A slow, knowing grin spreads across his face. He leans in slightly, resting his elbow on the table. “Oh, absolutely.”

You keep your face neutral. “Care to elaborate?”

He shrugs. “I believe in keeping things… consistent. And exciting.” His eyes sweep over you, lingering just a second too long. “What about you?”

You ignore him and move to the next question. “Do you smoke?”

“Nope.”

“Drink?”

“Socially,” he answers, then tilts his head. “I’m assuming you need all this info for the test, but if you wanted to get to know me, you could’ve just asked me out.”

You manage to keep your composure, offering him a mild, unbothered look. “You volunteered for this, remember?”

“I did,” Han nods, looking satisfied. “And now that I’m here, I think I made a great choice.”

You exhale through your nose, choosing to move on rather than feed into his antics. “Do you have any known allergies?”

His lips curve into something wicked. “Not to latex, if that’s what you’re asking.”

This is going to be a long interview. You mutter inside your head.

A few moments later, you glance down at your clipboard, double-checking that you’ve gone through all the necessary questions. With a satisfied nod, you set your pen down and look up at Han, who’s been watching you with an amused glint in his eyes the entire time.

“That’s all for the questions,” you inform him, maintaining your professionalism. “Before we wrap up, do you have any questions about the test?”

Han taps his fingers against the coffee cup, pretending to think. “So, just to be clear, my role in all of this is to… what? Try on the product and report back?”

You nod. “Yes. You’ll test for fit, comfort, durability, and overall performance. You’ll be given a log to record your experience each time you use it, including any issues you encounter.”

His lips twitch. “Experience, huh?”

You put on a small smile as you confirm with a nod. “Yes, experience.”

“And do I test it alone, or is that optional?” He leans in slightly, eyes dancing with mischief.

You keep your expression neutral. “That is entirely up to you.”

Han chuckles. “Noted.” He leans back in his chair, spinning the coffee cup between his fingers. “And how many times do I have to… test it?”

“Over a set period of time,” you explain patiently. “We’ll provide you with enough samples to use regularly and ask you to report back with detailed feedback.”

He hums in thought. “So, let’s say I’m a particularly… diligent tester. Does that mean I get extra credit?”

You narrow your eyes slightly. “There’s no extra credit.”

“No incentives for going above and beyond?” He places a hand over his heart. “I take my responsibilities seriously, you know.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from reacting. “Your only responsibility is to provide accurate feedback.”

He nods sagely. “And I assume you’ll be the one reviewing my… reports?”

“Yes,” you reply, starting to regret that fact.

Han grins. “Well then, I’ll make sure to be very detailed.”

You glance at the clock and decide that’s enough of this. “If you have no further questions, I think we’re done for today.”

Han stretches his arms above his head, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Alright. But don’t be surprised if I come up with more questions later. I like to be thorough.”

Somehow, you already expected that. You clear your throat, pushing aside the unexpected tension his presence brings. Keeping your tone professional, you grab your clipboard and jot down a few notes before looking up at him.

“I’ll need you back here in two days for the next part of the test,” you inform him, maintaining eye contact. “Same time, same place.”

Han tilts his head slightly, his smirk deepening. “Two days, huh?” he muses. “That feels like such a long wait.”

You exhale through your nose, unimpressed but amused. “I’m sure you’ll survive.”

He hums, stepping back but not before letting his gaze linger on you for just a second longer than necessary. “Oh, I will. But still…” He takes a few steps toward the door, then turns back with a lazy grin. “Can’t wait to see you again.”

You roll your eyes but say nothing, watching as he finally exits the lab. As soon as he’s gone, you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

Just as Han reaches the door, he glances back at you with that same cocky grin. “I’ll bring coffee for our second date,” he teases, winking before stepping out.

Before you can even process a response, you hear Jane’s voice echo from the hallway. “Second date?”

Your head snaps up just in time to see her walking toward the lab, passing by Han, who gives her a playful nod before disappearing down the hall. Jane stops right in the doorway, her eyes flickering between you and where Han had just been standing.

You quickly shake your head. “It’s not—He’s just—It’s for the test.”

As soon as Han disappears down the hallway, Jane practically materializes at your side, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Who was that?” she asks, tilting her head toward the direction Han had gone.

You hesitate, not wanting to give her more reason to pry, but you know Jane well enough to realize she won’t let this go. “A participant for my product test,” you answer simply, hoping that’s enough to satisfy her.

Jane raises an eyebrow. “Right. And why did he call your next session a ‘second date’?” She crosses her arms, her gaze sharp. “Because that doesn’t sound very… professional.”

You sigh, already regretting not shutting Han down the moment he started with his playful remarks. “He’s just… like that. He’s young, flirty—doesn’t take things too seriously. But he signed up for the test, and he qualifies, so I have to deal with him.”

Jane hums, clearly unconvinced. “And you’re sure he’s here for the test? Not just to hit on you?”

You scoff. “Oh, please. I doubt he went through the entire screening process just for that.”

Jane gives you a knowing look. “Mm-hmm. Well, you better be careful. That guy looks like trouble.”

You shake your head, brushing off her concern. “It’s just work, Jane. Nothing more.”

But as you replay Han’s words in your head—Can’t wait to see you again—you wonder if dealing with him is going to be more challenging than you expected.

The elevator doors slide open, and you step in with Jane by your side. She’s already mid-conversation, rambling about her weekend and the never-ending stress over her product’s approval.

“But enough about me,” she says, turning to you as the doors close. “What about you? Where did you go this weekend?”

You keep your expression neutral, pretending to adjust the strap of your bag. “Nowhere special. Just stayed home, watched some movies.”

Jane squints. “That’s it? You didn’t go out? No dates? No fun?”

You shake your head, keeping your tone casual. “Nope. Just a quiet weekend.”

Before you can scramble for a better response, the elevator dings and the doors slide open again.

Chris steps in. He’s dressed sharp as usual and the knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips already tells you he heard the last part of your conversation.

You and Jane greet him, and he gives a polite nod in response before leaning casually against the corner of the elevator, his gaze flickering to you.

Jane faces the mirror walled one side of the elevator, fixing the smudged corner of her red painted lips, “Come on, you did nothing at all on the weekend? Not even a little adventure?”

You force a small laugh. “Nope. Just me, my couch, and Netflix.”

From the corner of your eye, you notice movement. Chris shifts slightly, and you swear you hear a quiet huff—like he’s holding back a laugh.

Jane doesn’t notice him—or if she does, she’s too focused on her interrogation. “Ugh, you’re so boring. At least tell me you had good takeout.”

You nod. “Yeah. Ordered some really... good food.”

Chris’ grin widens, and you glance at him briefly, catching the amused glint in his eyes. He’s enjoying this way too much.

The elevator dings as it reaches your floor, and you practically rush out, eager to escape Jane’s questions and Chris’ silent teasing.

As the doors slide shut behind you, you exhale. You don’t have to turn around to know Chris is still grinning.

The morning is slow, the kind that lets your thoughts linger too long on things you shouldn’t be thinking about—like the weekend you spent tangled up with Chris in that hotel suite. It’s been days, but the memories keep creeping back at the worst moments, making your skin heat up and your mind wander.

You shake it off, focusing on your work. You have a second test with Han today, and while his flirty attitude during the interview was something you could handle, you’re bracing yourself for more of his antics. Then, a knock at the door.

You barely have time to look up before Chris steps inside, moving with that easy confidence of his—like he belongs wherever he goes. His suit is crisp, the top button of his shirt undone just enough to look effortless. His hands are in his pockets, his expression unreadable except for the slight smirk tugging at his lips.

"Hard at work, I see," he says, voice smooth as ever.

You blink, caught off guard. "Chris? What are you doing here?"

He shrugs, stepping further in. "Can’t a product manager check in on his researcher?"

You narrow your eyes, already sensing his real reason for coming. "You don’t usually drop by unannounced."

Chris leisurely strolls around the lab, eyes scanning the workbenches. His gaze lands on a few product prototypes you’ve been testing, and suddenly, his lips twitch into a knowing grin.

"You know," he muses, picking up one of the silicone models, turning it over in his hand like he’s inspecting a fine piece of art, "I’m starting to think you have the best job in the company."

You sigh, already regretting letting him in. "Huh?"

"No, seriously," he continues, mock admiration in his voice as he gestures around the room, but his eyes drift towards the shelf full of dildos in all sizes. "I mean, most people deal with boring paperwork, sales reports, or, I don’t know, actual medicine. But you? You come to work every day and play with dildos."

You let out a low scoff. "I need them to test the products."

"For research, yeah, yeah, I got that," he says, nodding dramatically before setting the model down and turning to you with a teasing glint in his eyes. "So, be honest. Got a favorite?"

You shoot him an exasperated look. "Are you done?"

Chris tilts his head, pretending to think. "Not until you answer."

You cross your arms. "If I say yes, are you going to get jealous?"

He clicks his tongue, grinning. "Depends. Is it one of these, or…?" He lets the sentence trail off, his expression smug.

Your jaw drops at his implication, heat rushing to your face. "Oh my God—Chris!" You reach for the nearest pen to throw at him, but he dodges effortlessly, laughing.

"Relax," he says, still chuckling. "I’m just making sure you’re not out here conducting research without me."

"Do you have any actual work-related questions, or are you just here to waste my time?" you snap, trying to regain control of the conversation.

Chris leans against the counter, watching you with amusement. "Bit of both."

Before you can think of a comeback, the door swings open again.

"As promised, I bring coffee for the second date," Han announces, stepping in with a confident grin, two cups in hand. His dark eyes glint playfully as he holds one out to you.

The shift in the air is instant. You feel it immediately—the weight of Chris’s gaze, the ease of Han’s presence, the way you’re suddenly caught between them.

Chris raises an eyebrow, slow and deliberate, before turning to you. "A second date, huh?"

Han, seemingly unbothered, strides right up to you and places the coffee in your hand. "Figured you’d need the energy for today’s test." Then, he glances at Chris, tilting his head. "Oh, hey, man. You her boss or something?"

Chris doesn’t blink. "Or something."

You clear your throat, shifting slightly as you take the coffee Han hands you. “Chris, this is Han Jisung. He’s a participant for the product test.”

Chris’s gaze flicks over to Han, assessing him with a cool, unreadable expression. “Is that so?”

Han, completely unfazed, grins. “Yep. Here to lend a helping hand… or, well, something else.”

You nearly choke on your coffee. Chris, on the other hand, merely exhales a quiet chuckle, shaking his head slightly as he looks back at you. “You sure know how to pick them.”

You glare at him, then turn back to Han. “And Han, this is Chris Bang. He’s the product manager overseeing my research.”

Han hums, giving Chris a once-over before offering a lopsided smile. “Nice to meet you, man.”

Chris, still watching him closely, finally nods and shakes his hand. “Likewise.”

There’s a beat of silence, the air thick with an odd mix of curiosity and challenge, and you’re already regretting having them in the same room together.

Han is the first to break it, turning back to you with a bright expression. “So, where are we doing this? Should I start getting undressed, or—?”

Chris chokes on absolutely nothing. You squeeze your eyes shut, inhaling sharply through your nose.

“Han,” you say, forcing yourself to keep your voice level, “we are not doing that now.”

“Right, right, interview first. Got it,” Han says, completely unbothered. He pulls out a chair and sits down, legs spread comfortably apart as he takes a sip of his coffee. “I’m all yours, then.”

Chris’s jaw ticks. You don’t miss the way his fingers twitch slightly against the counter.

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Chris, do you need anything else?”

Chris finally tears his gaze away from Han, looking at you with a smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, I think I’ve seen enough.”

He pushes off the counter and straightens his jacket. “I’ll leave you to your… work.”

You purse your lips as he heads for the door. But just before stepping out, he pauses, glancing back over his shoulder. His eyes meet yours, holding them for a moment too long.

Then, with a knowing smirk, he simply says, “Enjoy.”

And with that, he’s gone. You exhale a long air, shoulders sagging.

Han whistles lowly. “Your boss has a real intense vibe, huh?”

You shoot him a look. “Just drink your coffee.”

Han grins. “Yes, ma’am.”

And with that, you steel yourself for what’s to come. Because if that tension was any indication… things are about to get a lot more complicated.

You lead Han down the hall to the testing room, the fluorescent lights humming softly overhead. He follows beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, exuding an easy confidence that makes it clear he’s enjoying this just a little too much.

“So, what’s the plan?” Han asks, throwing you a playful glance. “Are we finally getting to the hands-on part?”

You quietly sigh but keep walking. “First, we need to take your measurements.”

He stops in his tracks, then dramatically places a hand over his chest. “Wow. You don’t even take me out to dinner first?”

You sigh, pushing open the door to the testing room and gesturing for him to step inside. “Get in, please.”

The room is sterile and professional, with a small examination table and a set of measurement tools neatly arranged on the counter. You walk over to your clipboard, flipping through the necessary paperwork.

Han looks around, then smirks. “So, what’s next? Do I need to, uh… strip down?”

“Not completely,” you pull a folded medical gown from the drawer and hand it to Han. “Here, put this on,” you instruct. “I’ll step out to give you some privacy.”

Han takes the gown but doesn’t move right away. Instead, he gives you an amused look. “Privacy? Didn’t we just establish that you’ll be seeing all of me anyway?”

You glare at him, crossing your arms. “Just put it on, Han.”

He chuckles but doesn’t argue, and you step outside, closing the door behind you.

You take a deep breath, already bracing yourself for whatever antics he’s going to pull. After waiting a reasonable amount of time, you knock before re-entering. And of course—he’s standing there, completely naked.

Your eyes widen for a split second before you whip your head up to meet his gaze. “Han!”

He grins, making absolutely no effort to cover himself. “What? You said you needed to take measurements, right?”

Your grip tightens around your clipboard. “I also gave you a gown for a reason.”

He shrugs. “Figured we’d just cut to the chase. Efficiency and all that.”

You exhale sharply, willing yourself to stay professional. He really is the type to do things as he pleases so you may as well just do things his way.

"Fine," you mutter. "Let's just get this over with."

Han’s grin stretches wider, clearly pleased that you’re going along with it. “See? Now we’re talking.”

As much as you try to stay professional, it’s impossible not to notice just how well-built Han is. His broad shoulders taper down into a dainty waist, his physique lean yet toned, the kind that suggests he takes care of himself but doesn’t overdo it. His skin is smooth, save for the ink that decorates his body—tattoos etched along his shoulder and ribcage, the dark lines contrasting against his complexion.

You swallow, quickly refocusing on your task, but the thought lingers—he is right to be this confident. He has every reason to be.

Han catches the flicker of your gaze, his smirk deepening. “Like what you see?”

You scoff, refusing to meet his eyes. “I’m just doing my job.”

He hums, clearly enjoying himself. “Sure, sure. But if you ever want to look a little longer, I won’t mind.”

You shake your head, trying to suppress the heat rising to your cheeks. “Just stay still, Han.”

You shift your focus on the task at hand. Professional. You need to stay professional. You put on latex gloves and grab your measuring tape before kneeling slightly to get the proper angles, avoiding looking anywhere unnecessary.

As you begin taking measurements, you comment, “You seem pretty confident about all this.”

Han smirks, raising his arms and folding them behind his head. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You put the end of the measuring tape against his pubic bon and gently lift length for a good measurement in its flaccid state. You glance up at him, arching an eyebrow. “Most people would at least be a little nervous. This isn’t exactly an everyday situation.”

He chuckles. “I’m not most people.”

You shake your head, suppressing a laugh. “Clearly.”

Han watches as you put the measuring tape around his cock to measure his girth, his gaze amused and curious. "What about you? You nervous?"

You scoff, keeping your attention on the measurements. "Why would I be?"

He leans in slightly, lowering his voice. "Well, you are taking measurements of a very naked, very handsome man."

You snort at that but decide not to answer him, you get up to jot down the numbers on the clipboard. Once you finish, you keep your tone as professional as possible as you inform the next step. "I need to take your measurements when you're fully erect."

Han raises an eyebrow, his smirk growing. "Oh? And how exactly do you suggest I do that?"

You blink at him, already regretting your choice of words. "That's… up to you," you say, quickly looking away.

He tilts his head, watching you with amusement. "You could help me, you know." His voice is playful, but the way he watches for your reaction tells you he's testing boundaries.

You refuse to take the bait, your expression carefully neutral. "There are some, uh, magazines in that drawer if you need them. And you can use the office tablet to… browse whatever helps."

Han’s grin widens as he leans slightly forward. "Oh? Thoughtful setup. Did you pick the selection yourself?"

You roll your eyes, refusing to let him get under your skin. "Just do what you need to do."

Han chuckles, stretching his arms above his head, utterly unbothered by his nakedness. "You sure you don’t want to stay? Might be more efficient with some assistance."

You give him a sharp look before turning toward the door. "I’ll give you a moment."

As you walk out, you hear him laughing behind you. "Just saying... You’re missing out on a great show."

A few minutes pass before the door swings open, and Han leans against the frame, fully exposed, his usual playful smirk in place. And his cock is... well, fully erected.

“So,” he says, tilting his head slightly. “Erect enough for you?”

You scoff in disbelief despite the heat creeping up your neck. He’s obviously enjoying this way too much. Without a word, you grab your measuring tape and step back into the room, motioning for him to stand still.

Han watches you with amusement as you kneel slightly to take the measurements, his confidence completely unshaken. “I gotta say, I’m impressed by your professionalism,” he muses. “Most people would be flustered by now.”

You shoot him a look, jotting down the numbers on your clipboard. “I work in research. This is just another data point to me.”

Han chuckles, low and knowing. “Sure it is.”

You continue with the measurement, doing it all over again and noting down the numbers with practiced professionalism. Han watches you expectantly, his cocky smirk never fading.

“So?” he asks, his voice laced with amusement. “Are you impressed?”

You don’t respond, keeping your eyes on the clipboard as you jot down the details. But deep in your mind, a thought lingers— Chris is still bigger.

You push the thought away immediately. This isn’t about comparisons. This is research. Purely professional.

Clearing your throat, you straighten up. “Alright, we're done with the measurements,” you say, keeping your tone neutral.

Han grins, clearly entertained by your lack of reaction. “Didn’t expect you to be so shy,” he teases as he finally reaches for the gown.

“I’m not shy,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him.

You move on to the next part of the test. You grab a sample from the prototypes you brought with you, tearing the packet open and handing the condom to him.

“Go ahead and put it on,” you instruct, stepping back to give him space.

Han takes the condom with a smirk, rolling it over himself with ease. But as it stretches around his girth, you immediately notice the strain. He shifts slightly, adjusting it with his fingers, and then raises an eyebrow at you. “This one’s a little tight,” he comments, his usual playfulness still present despite the slight discomfort.

You nod, already anticipating this. You grab another packet—this one a size bigger—and hand it to him. “Try this one instead.”

Han takes it and swaps out the first condom, rolling the new one on. His smirk deepens as he glances down at himself. “Ah, now this one fits just right,” he says with satisfaction. He looks up at you with that same teasing glint in his eyes. “You’re really thorough with this, huh?”

You ignore his playful tone, jotting down your notes. “That concludes the test for today,” you say, stepping back. “You can put your clothes back on.”

Han stretches his arms over his head, taking his time before reaching for his clothes. “Gotta say, this was probably the most interesting appointment I’ve ever had,” he muses, giving you a wink.

You exhale sharply, shaking your head as you turn away to give him some privacy. Han Jisung was going to be a handful—you could already tell.

Back in your lab, you hand Han a sleek black box with your company’s logo printed on it. “Here,” you say, placing it in front of him. “These are the samples for you to test on your own time.”

Han picks up the box with interest, inspecting it before lifting the lid. Inside, neatly arranged, are multiple packets of condoms. His gaze flickers over them, and then he looks at you with an amused smirk. “You’ve got quite the range here,” he comments. “How many sizes are there?”

You cross your arms. “We only manufacture three: large, extra-large, and extra-extra-large.”

Han’s eyebrows lift. “Damn. So no small or medium?”

“No,” you reply simply. “Our target consumers are people who require larger sizes. We’re focusing on comfort and proper fit.”

Han hums in understanding before his lips quirk up again. “And what size am I?” he asks, voice dripping with curiosity.

You glance at your notes, already knowing the answer. “Based on my calculations, you fall into the extra-large category.”

Han nods approvingly, seemingly pleased. But then, with a mischievous tilt of his head, he asks, “Do you have a participant in the extra-extra-large category?”

Your fingers twitch slightly, but you maintain a composed expression, even as your mind immediately conjures an image of Chris. You refuse to let your face betray your thoughts. “That information is confidential,” you say smoothly, flipping through your notes. “Now, let’s focus on your test.”

Han watches you for a beat, as if trying to read between the lines, but then he lets it go with a shrug. “Alright, boss,” he says playfully. “So what kind of feedback do you need from me?”

You clear your throat and straighten your posture, regaining full professionalism. “You’ll need to test the condoms in various conditions,” you explain. “Comfort, durability, sensation—any issues you experience, I want you to document them in detail.”

Han’s smirk deepens. “In detail, huh?” He leans forward on the table, resting his chin on his hand. “So, if I have any… intense experiences, I need to let you know?”

You meet his gaze with a deadpan look. “Preferably without unnecessary embellishment.”

Han chuckles, sitting back. “Got it. No unnecessary details… unless you want them.”

You exhale sharply, deciding not to dignify that with a response. “Just be thorough,” you say, gathering your papers. “I expect a full report when you’re done.”

Han grins as he picks up the box again. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be very thorough.”

As soon as Han walks out of your lab, a familiar voice pipes up from the doorway.

“Well, well, well,” Jane hums, arms crossed as she leans against the doorframe, watching Han’s retreating figure disappear down the hall. She turns back to you, a knowing smirk stretching across her face. “That was… interesting.”

You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Don’t start.”

Jane strides in, plopping herself onto a stool across from you. “Oh, I’m definitely starting.” She tilts her head. “So… new participant?”

You glance at the door before nodding. “Yeah. Han Jisung. He’s, uh, testing the product now.”

Jane raises an eyebrow. “Testing the product, huh?” She leans in with a teasing grin. “That’s funny, because from where I was standing, it looked like he was testing you.”

You exhale sharply, shooting her a look. “He’s just flirtatious. That’s how he is.”

Jane clicks her tongue. “Mmm-hmm. And you’re totally unaffected?”

You pause, then shake your head. “I don’t have time for distractions. I need to focus on finalizing the product.”

Jane hums, still grinning. “Sure, sure. But you do realize he was flirting with you, right?”

You sigh. “Obviously.”

“And you were kind of flirting back.”

“I was not.”

Jane laughs. “Please. If that was you being professional, I’d hate to see what happens when you actually flirt with him.”

You rub your temples again. “This conversation is over.”

Jane just smirks. “Fine, fine. But I’ll be keeping an eye on this little situation. Purely for scientific curiosity, of course.”

You roll your eyes, waving her off. “Go do your own research.”

Jane chuckles as she stands. “Oh, don’t worry. I am. But this? This is way more fun to watch.”

As Jane disappears down the hall, her teasing words linger in your mind. You exhale, turning back to your work, but your fingers hesitate over your notes.

Was I really flirting back?

You replay the conversation with Han in your head—his easy confidence, the way he grinned at you, how effortlessly he turned every exchange into something playful. You had brushed it off, keeping your responses neutral, professional… or at least, you thought you had.

But if Jane noticed something—if she thought you were flirting back—did that mean Han thought so too?

You shake your head and mutter to yourself, “I was just doing my job.”

Still, as you force yourself to refocus, a nagging thought creeps in. What if everyone else thinks otherwise?

What if Chris thinks otherwise?

The morning feels heavier than usual as you step into the elevator, half-hoping for a quiet ride up. But when you look up, you see Chris standing there, hands tucked into his pockets, his expression calm and collected.

Your stomach tightens. You haven’t really spoken to him since Han walked in on you both in your lab. That moment still lingers in your mind—the way Chris had looked at you, how he had casually gone along with the introduction while Han had stood there, grinning like he knew something you didn’t.

Now, standing beside Chris in the enclosed space, you don’t know whether you should be the first to speak. The silence stretches between you, only filled by the soft hum of the elevator.

Then, Chris breaks it. “Are we still doing it?”

The bluntness of his words makes you stiffen, caught off guard. You glance at him, but his gaze remains on the elevator doors, as if this is just a casual inquiry.

You regain your composure and answer steadily, “As long as you still want to participate, then yes.”

Chris nods, but there’s something contemplative in his expression. “When’s the next test, then?”

“Whenever it’s convenient for you,” you say.

He doesn’t even hesitate before saying, “I have time this weekend.”

You nod, immediately agreeing, though you can’t ignore the way your heartbeat picks up. “Alright. This weekend, then.”

At that, Chris finally turns his head to look at you. There’s something unreadable in his eyes, like he wants to say something else—but then the elevator dings.

The doors slide open to your floor. You take a step forward, stealing a glance back at him. He’s still watching you.

Forcing yourself to keep it professional, you nod. “Have a good day.”

And then you step out, the doors sliding shut behind you, leaving Chris alone in the elevator.

You sit at your desk, staring blankly at your laptop screen, but your mind is far from your work. Instead, it’s replaying the interaction you had with Chris in the elevator earlier.

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary—just a simple conversation about the next test. So why are you overanalyzing every second of it?

Maybe it was the way he asked, a little too quickly, as if he was eager. Or maybe it was the way he turned to you, like he had something else to say but didn’t get the chance.

You shake your head, exhaling sharply. Get a grip.

Before you can spiral any further, the lab door bursts open, and Jane comes rushing in.

“We did it!” she exclaims, her voice a mix of excitement and disbelief.

Before you can even react, she throws her arms around you, squeezing you in a tight hug.

“My product got the green light!” she nearly screams, pulling back to grab your shoulders and shake you slightly. “Mass production is happening! This is real!”

Your brain catches up to her words, and a genuine smile spreads across your face. “Jane, that’s amazing! Congratulations!”

“I know, right?” She bounces on her heels, barely able to contain herself. “All those late nights, all that reformulation—it actually paid off!”

“I never doubted it for a second,” you tell her sincerely.

She grins, but then her eyes narrow slightly. “Wait, why do you look so calm? You should be freaking out with me!”

You chuckle. “I think you’re doing enough freaking out for both of us.”

She swats your arm playfully before sighing dramatically. “Ugh, I just—God, I can’t believe it. You’ll be next, you know.”

At that, your smile falters just slightly. The reminder of your own product’s pending status brings back the weight of your own stress. But you push it down, focusing on her excitement instead.

“I hope so,” you say lightly. “But for now, let’s just celebrate your win.”

Jane beams at you, still buzzing with energy. “Oh, we’re celebrating. Drinks after work. No excuses.”

You shake your head, amused. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The bar is lively, filled with laughter and conversation as Jane’s entire research team celebrates their success. You sit at the high-top table, nursing your drink while Jane recounts every stressful moment leading up to her product’s approval.

“I swear, I thought I was going to throw up when I opened the email,” she says, shaking her head dramatically.

“Honestly, I thought you did throw up,” one of her team members chimes in, making the group laugh.

You smile, but your mind isn’t entirely present. You’re still caught up in the events of the day—Chris in the elevator, the way he was looking at you like he had more to say, the way you overanalyzed it all afterward.

And just as if your thoughts summon him, the bar door opens, and in walks Chris.

Your body stiffens slightly at the sight of him. He scans the room, quickly spotting your table, and strides over. His presence is magnetic as always, his sleeves rolled up just enough to tease his forearms, and his signature easy grin already in place.

“Look who decided to join us!” Jane announces, nudging your arm. “I invited him since, you know, he is the product manager.”

You glance at her, noting the sly glint in her eyes. “Just that?” you ask, keeping your voice casual.

Jane feigns innocence. “Of course! What other reason would there be?”

You narrow your eyes at her, but before you can say anything, Chris pulls up a chair next to you, close enough that you catch the faint scent of his cologne.

“Hope I’m not too late,” he says, flagging down the waiter for a drink.

“Nope, we’re just getting started,” Jane assures him, shooting you a quick glance before turning back to her team.

You take a slow sip of your drink, trying to shake off the suspicion creeping up your spine. Because despite Jane’s nonchalant attitude, you can’t help but feel like there’s more to her invitation than just acknowledging Chris’s role as the product manager.

And by the way Chris is sitting comfortably beside you, his knee brushing against yours under the table the whole night, you get the feeling you’re right to be suspicious.

Jane, already a little tipsy, is in full celebration mode. She waves down the waiter and orders another round for everyone, grinning as she slides a fresh drink in front of you.

"Come on," she nudges you. "You have to keep up tonight."

You sigh but take a sip, knowing there's no point in arguing when Jane is in this mood.

The night continues with laughter and drinks, and one by one, the rest of Jane’s team heads to the dance floor, leaving just the three of you at the table. Jane is leaning back in her chair, lazily swirling the ice in her glass as she suddenly turns her attention to Chris.

"So, Product Manager Chris Bang," she drawls, tilting her head at him. "Why have you been calling her to your office so many times lately?"

Chris, mid-sip of his drink, pauses just slightly before setting his glass down. He glances at you briefly, amusement flickering in his eyes before turning back to Jane. "Work, obviously," he says smoothly.

Jane snorts. "Work? Really? You, the Chris Bang, personally following up on a single research project so often? I don’t buy it."

You shoot her a look. "Jane—"

"What? I’m just curious!" she says, throwing up her hands. "If you guys have, I don’t know, a thing going on, you could just tell me."

Chris lets out a soft chuckle, his fingers tapping against his glass. "A thing, huh?"

You glare at Jane, your heart hammering in your chest. She was not supposed to be this perceptive. "You do realize he's our boss, right?" you say, attempting to sound unimpressed.

"Uh-huh," Jane says, clearly unconvinced.

Chris leans back in his seat, casually stretching his arm over the back of your chair. "Sounds like someone's had too many drinks," he teases.

Jane narrows her eyes at him. "Sounds like someone's avoiding the question."

Chris smirks but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he picks up his glass, taking another slow sip.

You grip your drink a little tighter, trying to play it cool, but the way Chris is not denying anything, the way he’s just letting Jane speculate—it’s making you very aware of how close he is to you right now. And by the look in his eyes, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You quickly flag down the waiter again, determined to shift Jane’s attention away from whatever game she’s playing. “Another round?” you offer, plastering on your best innocent smile.

Jane’s eyes light up. “Now that’s the spirit!” She turns to Chris. “You better not let her drink alone.”

Chris chuckles, shaking his head as he lifts his glass. “I wouldn’t dare.”

It works. Jane gets caught up in the drinks and the celebration again, and for a while, the conversation drifts away from you and Chris.

Next thing you know, Jane is dragging you onto the dance floor. You’re buzzed, your body light, and for once, you let yourself just have fun. The music thrums through your veins, and you move with the crowd, letting the beat take over.

At some point, as you spin around, your eyes catch onto something—or rather, someone.

Chris is still seated at the table, leaning back comfortably with his drink in hand, but his eyes are on you. Watching. And when your gazes meet, he doesn’t look away.

A thrill runs through you. The alcohol in your system makes you bolder, more aware of the way his gaze lingers. You pretend not to notice at first, dancing as if he isn’t there, but deep down, you know you’re moving just a little more deliberately. A little more enticingly. And you like that he’s watching.

The moment stretches between you like a live wire, crackling with energy neither of you dares to name. And as if he can't stand being a mere watcher, Chris walks up to you. He steps in closer, pushed forward by the press of bodies around you, and instead of pulling away, he stays. The heat of his body radiates against yours, your breaths mingling in the dim, neon-lit haze of the bar.

You don’t speak, and neither does he—not at first. Instead, there’s only the exchange of glances, the slow drag of his eyes over you, the way your body naturally falls in sync with his. It’s almost too easy, too natural, the way he places a careful hand on your waist, guiding your movements subtly like he’s testing the waters.

And then, he leans in. His lips brush the shell of your ear, his voice low and rough. “I can’t wait for the weekend.”

The words send a pulse of heat through you. You smirk, just enough to make sure he sees it before you tilt your head toward him, lips grazing the edge of his jaw as you murmur back, “Why wait until the weekend?”

You feel his sharp inhale more than you hear it. His grip on your waist tightens, a reaction he doesn’t even try to hide.

“Why not do it tonight?” you continue, letting the words drip slow and deliberate between you.

Chris pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression unreadable at first—surprised, maybe, but something darker flickers beneath it. Something intrigued. He doesn’t answer right away. But he doesn’t say no, either.

The moment the words leave your lips, there’s no taking them back. You don’t give Chris time to react before you’re tugging him through the press of bodies, weaving past dancing figures and clusters of coworkers lost in conversation. You make a beeline for your table, snatching up your bag in one smooth motion, and beside it, Chris’s neatly folded jacket. He barely has time to slip it from your grasp before you’re leading him out of the bar and into the cool night air.

Chris follows without protest, though his brows are still knit in confusion, his lips slightly parted like he’s trying to piece together what just happened.

But instead of heading straight for the curb, he gently tugs at your wrist, steering you into the narrow alley beside the bar. The dim glow of a flickering streetlamp barely reaches the space, but it’s enough for you to see the way he’s watching you—like he’s trying to read between the lines, trying to make sure.

“You really want to do this tonight?” His voice is quiet but firm, searching.

You don’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Chris exhales, rubbing the back of his neck as he studies you. “You’ve been drinking.”

“I’m not drunk,” you counter smoothly. “Just… mildly intoxicated.”

His brow lifts at that, still unconvinced. You step closer, meeting his gaze, letting your voice drop to something softer, something more deliberate. “You told me to relax, didn’t you?”

A muscle in his jaw ticks but you press on, your fingers brushing the lapels of his jacket. “Maybe now that I’m fully relaxed…” Your lips curl slightly as your voice dips lower. “I can take you well this time.”

For a moment, there’s only the hum of the city around you—the distant pulse of music from the bar, the faint rush of passing cars. Then his eyes darken, a spark of something untamed flickering through them. He doesn’t say a word.

Instead, his hands find your waist in one swift motion, pulling you flush against him. And before you can tease him for his sudden silence, he spins toward the street, lifting an arm to hail a taxi, his grip on you firm and unwavering.

As soon as the two of you are on the backseat of a taxi, Chris wastes no time draping his jacket over your lap. A gentlemanly gesture, if not for the sly curve of his lips and the glint in his eyes when he turns to you.

“Wouldn’t want you catching a cold,” he murmurs, voice smooth, deliberate.

You barely have a second to process the weight of his words before you feel it—his hand slipping beneath the fabric, fingers gliding under the hem of your skirt with ease. The moment his palm presses against your clothed heat, a sharp jolt runs through you.

Chris watches you, eyes trained on your face, amusement dancing in his expression as you press your lips together in a feeble attempt to stay composed. The driver hums along to the low music playing on the radio, oblivious to the way Chris’s fingers trace teasing circles over the dampening fabric between your thighs.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” he muses, voice barely above a whisper, meant just for you.

You shoot him a sharp look, but it’s hard to glare when your body betrays you, hips subtly shifting toward his touch.

Chris’s smile deepens. “You seemed so eager back at the bar. What happened?”

You grip his wrist under the jacket, not pushing him away, but just holding on—something to ground yourself as his fingers apply more pressure right on your clothed clit. The sensation is maddening, just enough to tease but not nearly enough to satisfy.

The taxi slows at a red light, and Chris leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Don’t make me stop now.”

It’s a warning and a challenge all at once. You squeeze Chris’s wrist, nails digging into his skin, but he doesn’t stop—if anything, the pressure of his fingers against your clothed heat intensifies.

"Shh," he whispers, lips grazing your ear. "Don't get us caught."

Easier said than done. Your thighs clamp around his hand instinctively, but Chris simply chuckles, using the limited space to his advantage, his fingers stroking lazy, torturous circles over the damp fabric.

Your breathing stutters. Every little movement feels like fire licking at your skin, and the worst part? The driver is completely unaware.

Chris shifts closer, his voice dipping lower, a teasing lilt in his tone. "You were the one who didn’t want to wait until the weekend," he murmurs. "But now you're struggling to keep quiet? What happened to all that confidence?"

You want to glare at him, maybe throw back a snarky remark, but when he presses a little harder—just enough to send a jolt of pleasure up your spine—you have to bite down on your lip to stop the sound threatening to escape.

Chris watches you, completely enthralled, eyes dark with amusement and something deeper—something possessive. His free hand brushes your cheek before he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a gesture so tender it contrasts the sinful way his fingers are working you under the jacket.

"You’re trembling," he notes, and there's that damn smirk again.

The taxi slows, and your heart nearly stops as the driver glances at you both through the rearview mirror.

Chris finally—finally—pulls his hand away, taking his time smoothing down your skirt as if nothing had happened at all. Then he leans in one last time, lips a breath away from your ear as he whispers, "Hope you're ready for what's next."

The moment the hotel room door clicks shut behind you, the air shifts. Gone is the restraint from earlier, the teasing and subtle touches—now, it's thick with something heavier, more urgent.

Chris tosses his jacket onto a nearby chair before turning to face you. His gaze sweeps over your form, eyes dark, filled with an unspoken hunger that sends a shiver down your spine.

"You sure about this?" he asks, voice quieter now, less playful, but no less intense.

You step forward, closing the space between you. "I was the one who said not to wait," you remind him, your hands already reaching for the buttons of his shirt.

Chris exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head, but he doesn’t stop you. Instead, he lets his hands settle on your waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress as if grounding himself. "You really don’t like being patient, do you?"

You let his question linger in the air, unanswered but your fingers make quick work of his buttons, parting his shirt to reveal the toned muscles beneath. He lets you take your time, watching you with hooded eyes, but the moment your hands graze over his bare skin, his control seems to snap.

In one swift motion, Chris grabs your wrist, spinning you around so your back is pressed against the door. His body is warm against yours, caging you in, his breath fanning across your face as he leans in.

"You have no idea what you just started," he murmurs before claiming your lips in a deep, searing kiss.

With his muscular arms wrapped around you, he can easily steer your body, dragging you with him toward the bed until he plops down on the end of the bed.

You settle onto Chris’s lap, your back flush against his chest as his arms wrap around you, holding you close. The warmth of his body seeps into yours, his breath fanning against the curve of your neck.

His lips find your skin, slow and deliberate, pressing soft kisses along your shoulder, trailing up to the sensitive spot just below your ear. A shiver rolls through you, and he must feel it because he chuckles, low and pleased.

"You always get like this when I touch you," he murmurs, his fingers finding the first button of your shirt.

You don't answer, just let him work, feeling each flick of his fingers as he undoes one button, then another, until the fabric parts. His hands slide beneath the material, palms warm against your bare skin, tracing along your sides before gliding up to your shoulders, easing the shirt off.

It slips down your arms and onto the bed, forgotten. Chris hums in approval, his hands wandering, exploring—one skimming down your thigh, the other greedily palming on your breast, holding you in place as he continues his slow, torturous kisses.

"You’re always so tense," he muses, his lips brushing your ear. "I think I like you better like this… relaxed, pliant."

His hands roam, touching everywhere except where you crave him most, teasing, testing your patience. You shift slightly in his lap, pressing closer, and his grip tightens just enough to remind you—he’s in control of the pace and he's going to take his time.

Chris lets his fingers wander lower, tracing the edge of your skirt where it rests against your thighs. His touch is slow and gentle, but there’s a tension in the way he exhales against your neck, like he’s barely holding himself back.

“You won’t be needing this,” he murmurs, his fingers slipping under the hem.

You lift your hips just enough to let him slide the fabric down, and he takes his time, inch by inch, until it pools at your feet. The cool air kisses your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his hands as they skim over your bare thighs, tracing soft patterns, teasing.

He shifts beneath you, pulling you even closer against his growing bulge, and you feel the unmistakable proof of his arousal pressing into you through his pants. The realization sends a shiver through you, one that he catches instantly.

“Still relaxed?” he teases, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You don’t get a chance to answer before his fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear. He doesn’t rush—he takes his time, dragging the fabric down slowly, his knuckles grazing your skin as he goes. The anticipation coils low in your stomach, your breath catching as you finally feel the cool air against your bare skin.

Chris lets out a quiet groan, his hands splaying over your hips as he pulls you even closer, his lips finding the curve of your neck again. “Perfect,” he whispers against your skin, his voice laced with something deeper, something reverent.

His hands roam, exploring, teasing, while his lips trail soft, lingering kisses down your shoulder, across your spine. Every touch, every whisper, sends warmth flooding through you, leaving you bare in every possible way.

Chris chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as you grab his hand and guide it between your thighs. His fingers brush against your heat, and he inhales sharply, his grip tightening on your waist.

"Impatient, mmh?" he murmurs, his voice laced with amusement, though his fingers don’t move just yet. Instead, he lets them rest there, just enough pressure to tease but not enough to satisfy.

You shift slightly in his lap, pressing yourself against his hand, silently urging him to do something—anything—but he only smirks against your shoulder. "I like it when you ask nicely," he muses, his breath warm against your skin.

Your fingers tighten around his wrist, your body aching for more, but before you can say a word, he finally moves. A slow, deliberate stroke on your clit. Your breath catches, and he hums in approval, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear.

"That's better," he whispers, his fingers working you open with a practiced ease, pumping in and out of you.

Each movement is agonizingly slow, dragging out every sensation, as if he wants to take his time, to savor the way you react under his touch. His free hand grips your hip, keeping you steady as you try to press yourself closer, seeking more.

Chris chuckles again, his fingers curling slightly, finding that spot that makes you tremble. "That’s it," he coaxes, his voice low and dripping with satisfaction. "Let me feel you."

And as his touch grows more insistent, as his lips trail down your neck, whispering praises into your skin, you realize just how much control he has over you in this moment—and how easily you’re willing to let him have it.

He shifts, his hands firm yet gentle as he lays you down against the plush hotel bed. The warmth of his body lingers on your skin, and for a moment, you almost forget yourself in the haze of anticipation.

But before you can get lost in it completely, you murmur, "The condom… it's in my bag."

Chris hovers over you, his lips curving into a small smile before pressing a lingering kiss to your mouth. "Good thinking," he muses, his voice low, thick with desire. He pulls away, stepping back to retrieve the condom.

As he stands at the end of the bed, the warm glow of the bedside lamp casting shadows across his toned frame, you take a moment to admire him. His body—broad shoulders, sculpted abs, muscles flexing with each subtle movement—holds a raw, effortless allure.

Gosh, Chris is beautiful.

His brows furrow slightly in focus as he tears open the packet, rolling the condom down his length with practiced ease. The sight alone sends another wave of arousal through you, heat pooling deep in your stomach.

Chris catches you staring, his lips quirking into a smirk. "Like what you see?" he teases, his voice playful, but there’s a flicker of something darker in his gaze—something knowing.

You don’t answer, but the way you bite your lip gives you away.

Chris lets out a quiet chuckle, his eyes never leaving yours as he climbs back onto the bed, settling between your legs. "Let’s put it to the test, then," he murmurs, his breath ghosting over your lips before capturing them in another slow, searing kiss.

He kisses you deeply, his hands roaming over your bare skin as the two of you melt into the mattress. The heat between you is palpable, the slow press of his body against yours making every inch of you burn with anticipation. His lips trail from your mouth to your jaw, down the column of your throat, each kiss setting your nerves alight.

Then, he pulls back just enough to guide you onto your stomach before gently urging you onto your hands and knees. His touch is steady, reassuring.

"It’ll be easier this way," he murmurs against your shoulder, pressing soft kisses along your spine. "You won’t have to think too much. Just feel."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you nod, swallowing back the nervous tension that had been lingering before. The warmth of his mouth trails down your back, each kiss making you more pliant, more eager.

Then, without another word, Chris aligns himself behind you, his hands gripping your waist as he slowly pushes his length inside you.

Chris grips your waist with steady hands, his thumbs tracing soothing circles against your skin as he slowly pushes inside. The stretch is intense, and he catches the way your fingers grip the sheets, your breath hitching.

"Does it hurt?" he murmurs, his voice low and careful.

You swallow hard, your body adjusting to his size. "Just… put in more," you whisper, wanting to get past the ache, wanting to feel all of him.

Chris exhales through his nose, his grip tightening slightly before he pushes in deeper, inch by inch, with the utmost caution. You bite your lip, willing yourself to relax, but the deeper he goes, the more overwhelmed you feel. Your body tenses.

"Wait—stop," you gasp suddenly. "That's too deep."

Chris halts immediately, his hands sliding up to your hips, grounding you. You take a shaky breath before glancing over your shoulder. "Are you all in?"

Chris tilts his head down to see his cock is only halfway in, amusement flashing in his dark eyes. "Not even close," he says, lips quirking into a smirk.

Your eyes widen in disbelief, and a groan escapes you. "Fuck Chris! Why you have to be too big?" you mutter, frustration laced in your voice.

Chris chuckles, his hands smoothing over your skin in reassurance. "You’re cute when you’re like this," he teases, leaning over you. His breath fans against your cheek before he captures your lips in a deep, slow kiss, melting away your tension with each lingering touch.

He watches your expression closely, searching for any signs of discomfort, but when he sees the pleasure beginning to overtake the tension in your body, he pulls hid cock back slightly before thrusting into you again—deeper this time, but still careful.

A gasp leaves your lips, your body adjusting, the overwhelming stretch melting into something more intoxicating. The feeling of him inside you, filling you, sends waves of pleasure rippling through you. You grip the sheets beneath you, eyes fluttering shut as he finds a steady rhythm, each movement dragging bliss across your nerves.

Then it hits you—faster than you expected. Your body clenches around him, a moan slipping out as pleasure crashes through you. Chris immediately senses the shift, his hands gripping your waist tighter as he slows.

"Are you coming?" he asks, voice husky, his breath warm against your shoulder.

You nod, still trembling, your fingers twisting in the sheets.

"Do you want me to stop?" His voice is softer now, tinged with concern, but you shake your head frantically.

"No—" You exhale shakily. "It’s too good. Don’t stop."

Chris groans at your words, his hands sliding up your sides before pulling you back against him. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, murmuring something too quiet to catch before he picks up his pace again.

This time, there’s no hesitation—only the raw need between you as your bodies move in sync. The pleasure builds steadily, the tension coiling deep within you as Chris thrusts into you, each movement drawing you closer, each moan swallowed into his heated kisses.

And then, all at once, you fall apart around him, pleasure surging through you as your body tightens and trembles against him. Chris follows soon after, a deep groan spilling from his lips as he reaches his own high, his arms locking around you as you both shudder through the overwhelming release.

For a moment, neither of you move, only the sound of heavy breathing filling the space. Then Chris presses a lingering kiss against the back of your neck, his grip on you loosening but still firm, as if he’s reluctant to let you go.

Chris slowly pulls out, his touch gentle as if he knows you’re still sensitive. A shiver runs through you at the loss of him, and you collapse onto the bed, catching your breath as you watch him.

Standing at the edge of the bed, Chris carefully rolls the condom off, inspecting it for a moment before tying it off and discarding it. It’s hard not to notice the way it’s stretched, the amount of his seed inside it making your stomach flip. He doesn’t say anything, just walks toward the bathroom, his bare form disappearing inside as you lay there, trying to process everything.

The distant sound of running water fills the room, and as your heartbeat slows, a strange clarity settles over you. You feel yourself sobering up—not enough to regret anything, but enough to realize the weight of the moment.

When Chris returns, wiping his hands dry with a small towel, he catches your gaze and smirks. “You look like you’re thinking too hard.”

You shake your head, pushing yourself up slightly. “I was just going to ask…” You hesitate, but then decide to just say it. “What do you think of the condom’s performance?”

For a second, Chris just stares at you—then he chuckles, running a hand through his messy hair. “Of course you’d get right back to work.” He exhales through his nose, his smirk softening as he joins you on the bed. “Well, it held up. No breakage, no slipping, even after how intense that was.” He gives you a pointed look, making heat creep up your neck.

You clear your throat. “That’s good.”

Chris hums, leaning back against the pillows. “Though I think you might need to test it a few more times before you finalize your product. Just to be sure.”

You roll your eyes, but the small smile on your lips betrays you. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Chris lets out a small sigh, stretching his arms before settling more comfortably against the pillows. “Since we both have work tomorrow, maybe we should stop talking about work and just get some rest.”

You nod, realizing how heavy your limbs feel now that the rush of everything has passed. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

There’s a brief silence, just the sound of your breathing filling the dimly lit room. Then, Chris shifts slightly beside you. “Hey…” His voice is softer now, almost hesitant. “Is it okay if I cuddle you?”

Your breath catches slightly at the unexpected question. Of all things, you weren’t expecting him to ask that. But before you can even think about it, you find yourself nodding.

Chris doesn’t hesitate once he gets the answer he wants. He moves in closer, his warm, bare body pressing against your back as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into him. The heat of his skin is comforting, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back oddly soothing.

You let out a quiet breath, melting into the warmth of him. His hand rests lightly against your stomach, his thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles there. Neither of you say anything, and you don’t need to. Slowly but surely, you feel your body relaxing, your eyelids growing heavy.

As you settle into his warmth, your body fully relaxing against his, you feel Chris nuzzle slightly into the crook of your neck. His breath is steady, slow, comforting.

Just as your eyelids start to droop, you murmur, “Goodnight, Chris.”

His arm around your waist tightens just a little, and you hear the faintest hint of a smile in his voice as he whispers back, “Goodnight.”

The warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the quiet comfort between you lull you into sleep, tangled together in a way that feels dangerously natural.

The pale morning sun casts a warm glow on Chris’s pale skin as he fixes the cuffs of his shirt beside you. The atmosphere is surprisingly comfortable despite everything that happened last night—though the occasional brush of his hand against yours or the way his gaze lingers on you a second too long reminds you of just how close you had been mere hours ago.

As you slip on your shoes, you break the silence. “If Jane asks about us, just say I got too drunk, and you took me home. Keep it simple.”

Chris pauses, smirking as he tilts his head at you. “That’s the best excuse you could come up with?”

You huff, crossing your arms. “It’s believable, isn’t it? Besides, you know how Jane gets.”

Chris chuckles, rolling up his sleeves as he steps closer. “Oh, I do. Which is why I think she won’t buy it for a second.”

You shoot him a pointed look. “Chris.”

“Relax,” he grins, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I won’t say a word. Especially not to Jane.”

Satisfied, you exhale a small breath of relief, though his amusement at your paranoia doesn’t go unnoticed. As you both gather your belongings, preparing to leave the hotel, a thought lingers in the back of your mind—one that you refuse to entertain for too long. Because despite your best efforts to keep things professional, something between you and Chris has undeniably shifted.

You step into the office, keeping your head low as you make your way toward your lab, hoping to slip in unnoticed. But of course, Jane is already there, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, looking equally exhausted.

“You’re late,” she grumbles, squinting at you.

You let out a dramatic sigh. “I know. I feel like death.” You press a hand to your forehead for extra effect. “I’m seriously so hungover.”

Jane groans, rubbing her temples. “Tell me about it. I shouldn’t have ordered that last round.”

You nod quickly, going along with it. “Yeah, I think that’s what did me in too.”

Jane tilts her head, her suspicious gaze scanning you. “Wait… where did you even go after that? You disappeared.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you manage to keep your face neutral. “I got too drunk, and Chris helped me get home.”

Jane narrows her eyes. “Huh?”

You swallow, keeping your expression casual. “Yeah, he was just being nice. You know, since he’s my boss and all.”

For a moment, Jane doesn’t say anything, her eyes assessing you like she’s trying to catch you in a lie. But before she can press further, someone from her team calls her name from down the hall.

Jane groans, rubbing her face. “Ugh, I have a meeting with the production team. Can't believe they make me sit through this with a headache.”

You nod, putting on your best sympathetic look. “Good luck with that.”

She sighs and starts walking away, but not before casting one last glance at you. “This conversation isn’t over.”

You force a laugh as you watch her go, exhaling in relief once she’s out of sight. You got off the hook—for now.

You put on your lab coat first before starting any work. You grab your notebook from your bag and flipping through it when a familiar voice calls out from the doorway.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

You glance up to see Han leaning casually against the doorframe, holding two cups of coffee in one hand and a small white box in the other. His usual flirtatious grin is in place, his eyes glinting with mischief as he steps inside.

You exhale and put on a polite smile, already bracing yourself. “Good morning.”

He strides over and places the coffee and the box on your desk before pulling out a chair for himself. “I figured coffee alone wasn’t enough, so I brought cheesecake. Thought I’d spoil my favorite researcher a little.”

You raise a brow. “Bribing me now?”

He smirks. “If it works, then yeah.”

You sigh but can’t help the small smile forming on your lips as you open the box, revealing a neatly sliced cheesecake with a drizzle of caramel on top. It looks dangerously good.

“Alright,” you say, picking up one of the coffee cups. “I’ll accept it. But only because I skimped on breakfast.”

Han chuckles, watching as you take a small forkful of the dessert. “That’s what I like to hear.”

You shake your head at his antics before setting your fork down and flipping open your notes. “Let’s get to business.”

Han places a hand over his chest in mock offense. “You mean we’re not on a date?”

You snort and skip on answering him. “Now, let’s continue the interview.”

His grin widens, but he sits back, sipping his coffee. “Alright, boss. Fire away.”

You take a sip of a coffee first while getting the questions ready and pull out your notes. “Alright, let’s get into it. How’s the product testing going?”

Han hums, stirring his coffee lazily. “Not bad. Feels good, fits well. No complaints so far.”

You nod, jotting that down. “And how many have you used?”

Han pauses mid-sip, then lowers his cup with a smirk. “Why? Are you keeping score?”

You sigh. “Just answer the question, Han.”

He shrugs. “Out of the eight packs you gave me? I’ve only used two.”

Your pen stills on the paper. “Two? That’s it?”

Han leans forward slightly, his smirk deepening. “Yeah. I’m saving some.”

You frown. “Why?”

His eyes gleam with mischief. “For you, obviously.”

Your brain short-circuits for a moment before you let out an exasperated sigh. “Han—”

“I mean, it’d be unfair if I was the only one testing it, right?” he says smoothly, resting his chin on his hand as he watches you with amusement. “Wouldn’t you want firsthand experience?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “This is a professional study.”

He chuckles. “Sure, sure. But the offer stands.”

You shake your head, refusing to indulge him any further. “Moving on. Did you experience any discomfort?”

Han grins. “None at all. Though I wouldn’t mind testing the durability a bit more.”

You glare at him. “Stick to the questionnaire.”

He holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave. For now.”

You sigh, writing down his responses, pretending that your face isn’t heating up from his teasing. Despite it, you manage to finish all the questions you have for him. You glance at your notes, ensuring you’ve covered everything.

“Alright, I think that’s all for today,” you say, capping your pen. “I’ll see you next week for the final interview.”

Han leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, lips curving into a smirk. “That’s it?”

You raise a brow and put on a small smile. “That’s it.”

He lets out a dramatic sigh. “Come on, we can’t end our third date like this.”

You roll your eyes as you remark once again. “It’s not a date.”

He tilts his head, feigning innocence. “I brought you coffee and cheesecake, didn’t I?”

You open your mouth to argue, but before you can, the lab door swings open, and Jane strides in. She stops abruptly, her eyes darting between you and Han, taking in the way he’s leaning in just a little too close, the amused glint in his eyes, and the way you’re trying very hard not to look flustered.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asks, crossing her arms.

You straighten up instantly. “Nope. Just finishing up his interview.”

Han, completely unbothered, flashes her a charming smile. “Oh, hey. You must be Jane.”

Jane narrows her eyes at him before shifting her gaze back to you, suspicion evident. “So… what exactly were you two talking about?”

Han grins. “Just planning our next date.”

You groan. “Han.”

Jane’s eyes widen in intrigue, a slow smirk forming on her lips. “Oh? Is that so?”

You shoot Han a warning look, but he just winks at you before standing up and grabbing his coffee. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” he says smoothly. “See you next week.”

Jane doesn’t let Han’s exit stop her. Instead, she steps further into the lab and plops down in the chair across from you. “So,” she drawls, “third date, huh?”

You rub your temples. “Don’t encourage him.”

But Jane ignores you, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she turns toward the door Han just walked through. “Hey, Han!” she calls out.

He peeks his head back in, coffee in hand, looking amused. “Miss me already?”

Jane smirks and reaches into her bag, pulling out a sleek black invitation. “Why don't you come to the launch party for my product this Friday night? It’s going to be fancy, lots of people from the company, free drinks. Since you’re so keen on taking my friend on dates, why don’t you make this your fourth?”

Han raises a brow, glancing at you. “A formal date, huh?” He grins, looking back at Jane. “I like the way you think.”

You sigh, knowing there’s no way out of this now.

Han walks over and takes the invitation from Jane’s hand, flicking it between his fingers as he gives you a look filled with playful intent. “Guess it’s true what they say,” he muses. “Love finds a way.”

You groan. Jane cackles. And Han? Han just winks before strolling out of the lab, leaving you to wonder how exactly you ended up in this mess.

Friday night arrives, and the venue is buzzing with energy. The event hall is decorated with elegant lights, the clinking of glasses and soft hum of music filling the air. The launch party is in full swing, employees mingling with industry professionals, celebrating her achievement. You arrive dressed appropriately for the occasion, nursing a glass of champagne as you navigate through conversations.

As soon as you spot Jane across the room, you make your way through the crowd, champagne flute in hand. She’s in the middle of a conversation with a few colleagues, but when she sees you, her face lights up with excitement.

“There she is!” Jane exclaims, excusing herself from the group to pull you into a quick but tight hug. “You made it!”

You laugh at her enthusiasm. “Of course, I did! There was no way I’d miss your big night.”

Jane pulls back, eyes gleaming with excitement. “Can you believe it? After all the late nights, the revisions, the stress—it’s finally happening. The product is officially launched!”

You smile, genuinely happy for her. “And you deserve every bit of this. You worked your ass off for this moment.”

She lets out a dramatic sigh, pressing a hand to her chest. “I really did, didn’t I? God, I need more champagne.”

You chuckle and clink your glass against hers. “To your hard work paying off.”

Jane grins. “To both of us. Your product is next, you know.”

You shake your head, sipping your drink. “One step at a time.”

“Psh, please,” Jane scoffs. “You’re basically a genius in your field. It’s only a matter of time.”

Before you can argue, she suddenly gasps and grabs your arm. “Wait, wait—look who just walked in.”

You follow her gaze toward the entrance, and sure enough, Han is making his way through the crowd, dressed in a fitted suit that makes him look a little too good for your liking.

Jane smirks. “Guess you really did get yourself a date tonight.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no denying the way Han’s eyes find yours almost instantly, his lips curling into that all-too-familiar smirk.

Jane elbows you playfully. “I’ll leave you to it,” she teases before slipping back into the crowd, leaving you standing there as Han approaches.

Dressed in a well-fitted suit that makes him look effortlessly charming, he scans the room until his eyes land on you. A slow, knowing grin stretches across his lips as he approaches, hands in his pockets, confidence dripping from every step.

“Well, well,” Han drawls as he stops beside you. “You clean up nicely, professor.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no denying the way he looks—like trouble wrapped in an expensive suit.

“How’s the party?” he asks, leaning in slightly, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

You take a sip of your champagne. “Just started. Jane’s thrilled.”

Han hums, glancing around before tilting his head at you. “And you? Having fun?”

Before you can answer, Jane appears out of nowhere, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and grinning between the two of you. “Oh, I knew you’d show up, Han.”

Han chuckles. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

You awkwardly wave toward the bar and ask, “Drinks?”

Han smirks and leans in just slightly, voice teasing. “Lead the way.”

You and Han sit at the bar, drinks in hand, the ambient chatter of the event fading into the background as he leans in slightly, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips.

“So,” he starts, swirling his drink in his glass, “are product launches always this fancy, or is this just Jane’s excuse to throw a party?”

You chuckle, taking a sip of your champagne. “A little bit of both. But mostly, Jane loves a reason to celebrate.”

Han hums, resting his chin on his palm as he watches you. “And you? Do you like to celebrate?”

You quirk a brow. “Are you asking if I party?”

He shrugs, feigning innocence. “I’m just wondering if I’ll ever get to see you let loose. I bet you’d be fun after a few more drinks.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “This isn’t that kind of party.”

He grins. “Pity.” Then he lifts his glass toward you. “Still, I think this counts as a fourth date, don’t you?”

You roll your eyes but clink your glass against his anyway. “You’re really committed to this bit, huh?”

“I prefer to call it optimism,” he says smoothly, eyes glinting with mischief. “But if you want me to stop, you just have to say the word.”

You don’t say anything, and that only makes his smirk widen. Just as you’re about to respond, something—or rather, someone—catches your eye.

Across the room, standing near the entrance with a drink in hand, is Chris. He’s watching you. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something in the way he’s standing, the slight tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flick from you to Han and back again.

For a brief moment, your heart stumbles in your chest. You take a slow sip of your drink, trying to shake the strange weight in your chest. It’s just Chris. It shouldn’t mean anything. And yet, you can’t help but steal another glance in his direction.

Han is still talking, still flashing that charming smile, completely unaware of the way your attention has drifted elsewhere.

“—so, I figured, if I’m already here, might as well make it worth my time, right?” He sets down his drink as he notices something on your face, "Can I just—"

Before you can even process it, his fingers are grazing your face, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. It’s a fleeting touch, gentle, but deliberate. His gaze lingers on yours, dark eyes full of something playful yet unreadable.

"There," Han mutters with a satisfed smile as he securely tucked it behind your ear.

You don’t have time to react—not properly—because just over Han’s shoulder, you see Chris. He’s moving now, weaving through the crowd, his expression as unreadable as before. There’s a certainty in his stride, a quiet intensity that makes your pulse quicken.

You know he’s coming straight for you. Panic flutters in your chest before you can stop it. “I need to use the restroom,” you blurt out, pushing back from your seat.

Han blinks in surprise, his hand falling away as you stand abruptly. “Oh? Uh—”

You don’t let him finish, flashing him a quick, apologetic smile before turning on your heel. You don’t look back.

Inside the restroom, you grip the edge of the sink, taking a steadying breath. The cool marble soothes your fingertips, but it does nothing to calm the rapid thud of your heartbeat. You left in such a rush. Why did you run?

Before you can even begin to sort through your own emotions, the door swings open. You tense, your eyes darting to the mirror—only to exhale in relief when you see Jane stepping in.

“Oh,” she says, her brows lifting slightly. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

You force a chuckle, shaking your head. “You didn’t. Just… needed a moment.”

Jane leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching you with a knowing expression. “A moment away from Han?” she teases, tilting her head. “But you two looked pretty cozy out there.”

You feel your face warm. “It’s just conversation.”

“Uh-huh.” She hums, unconvinced. “Well, from where I was standing, it looked like he was about to kiss you.”

You sputter. “He was not—”

Jane waves a hand, cutting you off. “I’m just saying, I see the way he looks at you. And honestly?” She grins. “I don’t blame him.”

You try to roll your eyes, but it comes out weaker than intended.

Jane studies you for a beat longer, her expression softening. “But… that’s not why you ran, is it?”

You freeze for half a second too long.

Jane catches it immediately. Her grin fades, replaced by curiosity. “You got real nervous all of a sudden. Something—or someone—got you spooked?”

You swallow, forcing yourself to maintain a neutral expression. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jane narrows her eyes. “Uh-huh. You sure about that?”

You nod, maybe a little too quickly. Jane doesn’t press further. Not yet. But you know her well enough to realize she won’t drop it that easily.

Jane eyes you for another long moment before sighing and reaching into her small clutch. You watch as she rummages through it, her fingers brushing past a few cosmetic items before finally pulling out a small blister pack. She pops a single pill into her palm and hands it to you, then produces a half-full bottle of water like she knew this moment was coming.

“Here,” she says, offering both to you.

You hesitate, looking down at the pill in your hand. “What is it?”

Jane smirks, shaking the water bottle slightly to get you to take it. “Something to help you relax.”

You squint at her. “That’s not an answer.”

She laughs. “It’s nothing illegal, if that’s what you’re worried about. Just take it.”

You glance at the pill again. It’s small, pale pink. Harmless-looking. But then again, so are most things before they kick in. You look up at Jane, searching her face. “Is this how you handle your nerves?”

She grins. “No, I handle my nerves with tequila, but I figured you’d want something that won’t have you slurring your words in front of the hot-guy-with-extra-large-dick Han.”

You sigh, rolling the pill between your fingers. Maybe she’s right. Maybe you do need something to take the edge off. Your mind has been spiraling ever since you saw Chris watching you from across the room. Before you can second-guess yourself, you pop the pill into your mouth and take a sip of water, swallowing it down.

Jane watches you with a pleased expression. “Atta girl.”

You shoot her a wary look. “If I pass out in the middle of the party, I’m blaming you.”

She snickers. “Relax. It’s mild.” She leans in slightly. “Though, if I were you, I wouldn’t fight the feeling when it kicks in. Just let go and enjoy the night.”

You shake your head, but a small smile tugs at your lips. “You’re a bad influence, you know that?”

Jane winks and wickedly smile as she says, “I'm your only friend. You can't get rid of me.”

She gives you one last knowing smile before tucking her clutch under her arm. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it,” she says. “Just… breathe, okay?”

You nod, watching as she turns on her heel and exits the restroom, her heels clicking against the tile floor. Once she’s gone, you exhale slowly, leaning against the sink. The pill hasn’t kicked in yet, but you tell yourself that you’re already starting to feel lighter—whether it’s real or just in your head, you don’t know.

A minute passes before you decide to leave. You straighten your dress, smooth out any imaginary wrinkles, and push open the door.

The moment you step out, Han is there, leaning casually against the wall just outside the restroom. His eyes light up as he spots you.

“There you are,” he says, pushing off the wall. He immediately hands you a drink, grinning. “I figured you could use a refill.”

You take the glass from him automatically, looking at him curiously. “Were you waiting for me?”

Han shrugs, his smirk playful. “Maybe. Or maybe I just happened to be standing here, looking ridiculously handsome, at the right time.”

You shake your head, chuckling softly. “Of course.”

He watches you take a sip of your drink before stepping closer, tilting his head slightly. “You okay? You disappeared on me back there.”

You hesitate for only a moment before nodding. “Yeah. Just needed a breather.”

Han doesn’t question it. Instead, he simply smiles and gestures toward the party. “Well, now that you’re back, should we rejoin the fun? Or…” His gaze flickers with mischief. “Do you want to sneak out and do something more interesting?”

You roll your eyes, but you don’t deny it. As you take another sip of your drink, Han effortlessly falls into conversation again, keeping the mood light, as if he’s completely oblivious to the weight lingering in your chest.

As you and Han continue chatting, a strange warmth spreads through your body—not just from the alcohol, but something deeper, heavier. Your skin feels hot, your heartbeat a little too fast, and the room starts to blur at the edges.

You shift on your feet, suddenly restless, and Han notices immediately. “Hey,” he says, reaching out to steady you. “You okay?”

“I just…” You swallow, trying to gather your thoughts. “I think I need some air.”

Without hesitation, Han takes your wrist gently. “Come on,” he says, leading you through the crowd. He navigates the party effortlessly, guiding you toward the balcony doors. The second you step outside, the cool night air rushes over you, making you sigh in relief.

Han watches you closely, concern flickering in his eyes. “Better?”

You nod, but the sensation in your body hasn’t entirely faded. There’s still this strange warmth, this unshakable feeling of being unmoored. You try to focus on Han’s voice as he talks, but his words blur together, fading into the background like static.

Before you even think it through, you murmur, “Can I just… lean against you for a bit?”

Han blinks in surprise, but his reaction is immediate. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Of course.”

He opens his arms slightly, and without another word, you step into his space, resting your head against his chest. His arms come around you naturally, holding you steady, and you melt into his warmth, snug against him.

For a moment, the world quiets. The sounds of the party fade into the background, replaced by the steady rise and fall of Han’s breathing.

“Comfortable?” he asks, his voice low.

You hum in response, your body finally relaxing. You’re not sure if it’s the pill, the drinks, or just sheer exhaustion, but right now, wrapped in Han’s arms, you don’t want to think about anything else.

A slow, melting warmth seeps into your body, and suddenly, it isn’t enough just to rest against Han. You need more—you need to be closer, to feel his warmth completely surrounding you. Without thinking, you shift, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

The scent of him—clean and subtly spiced—fills your senses, and you inhale deeply, a content sigh escaping your lips. Han stills for a moment, then exhales a soft chuckle, his hand instinctively running down your back in a slow, comforting motion.

“You’re really making yourself at home, huh?” he teases, his voice lower, more amused.

But you don’t respond. You just press closer, your head tilting up slightly. Han tilts his head down at the same time, and before you realize what’s happening, your eyes meet—so close, too close.

There’s a moment, a charged silence between you, a breath suspended in time. You can feel it—the pull, the inevitability of it. You’re not sure who leans in first, but suddenly, his lips are just a whisper away from yours, the warmth of his breath fanning over your skin—

And then, abruptly, the moment shatters.

A firm grip wraps around your wrist, yanking you back before your lips can touch. You barely have time to register the shock on Han’s face before you’re being pulled away, your body stumbling into a familiar, solid frame. Chris.

His grip is unrelenting, his body tense as he physically separates you from Han. “We’re leaving,” he says, voice clipped, leaving no room for argument.

You blink up at him, dazed, trying to process the sudden shift. “What—?”

Han straightens, his expression shifting from surprise to something more unreadable. “Dude, what the hell?”

Chris doesn’t answer. He just tightens his grip on your wrist, his jaw ticking. “She’s done here.”

Han’s eyes flick between you and Chris, and then he takes a deliberate step forward, his playful demeanor gone. “She can decide that for herself.”

You can feel the tension crackling in the air between them, thick and suffocating. Your mind is still hazy, your body still burning with lingering heat, but Chris’s grip is grounding—firm, possessive.

For a second, you’re torn. But Chris doesn’t give you a choice. He tugs at your wrist again, his voice dropping lower, quieter. “Let’s go.”

And somehow, even in your dazed state, you find yourself moving, following his lead.

Chris keeps a firm arm around you as you stumble slightly inside the elevator, his grip steadying you. His jaw is tight, his lips pressed into a hard line as he watches you from the corner of his eye. The tension in the small, enclosed space is suffocating.

"You really need to learn your limits," he mutters, voice low but laced with frustration. "Drinking that much? Letting that guy all over you?" He exhales sharply, shaking his head. "You're lucky I was there."

You barely register his words, your body still buzzing, your mind clouded. You feel too warm, too restless. By the time he leads you outside and into the cool night air, you feel like you’re burning from the inside out. He opens the car door for you, his other hand resting on your back to guide you in, but you don’t move. You just stand there, staring at him, your breath coming in short, uneven exhales.

Chris sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "Come on, get in."

"I'm not drunk," you murmur.

Chris lets out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Sure, you’re not."

His dismissiveness makes something snap inside you. Before he can react, you grab the front of his shirt, yanking him down to your level, and press your lips hard against his.

He freezes. His entire body stiffening. For a moment, he doesn’t move, doesn’t even breathe. And then, just as suddenly as you kissed him, you pull away.

Chris stares at you, his eyes wide, lips slightly parted. "What—?"

"I'm not drunk," you repeat, your voice steadier now. "But Jane—" you swallow, your body trembling with heat, "—I think she gave me one of her aphrodisiac pills."

Chris blinks. His expression shifts from confusion to disbelief. "You’re kidding."

You shake your head, but it's hard to focus when all you can think about is the way his body feels pressed against yours, the way his lips felt under yours just now—warm, firm, perfect.

"Chris," you whisper, stepping closer, your fingers fisting his shirt again. You tilt your head up, your eyes dark and needy. "I want you."

Chris swallows hard, his hands hovering near your waist but not quite touching. "You don’t know what you’re saying."

"I do." Your voice drops lower, your lips grazing his jaw. "I want you. I want you... all over me."

Chris lets out a shaky breath, his fingers tightening on your hips. His restraint is palpable, his whole body tensed like a wire about to snap.

You tilt your head back, looking up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "So… how about we do another test tonight?"

Chris exhales sharply, his hands gripping your arms as if grounding himself. "No," he says, his voice strained. "Not like this."

You blink up at him, your body pulsing with need. "Why not?" Your voice comes out in a frustrated whisper, your fingers tightening around his shirt.

"Because you're not yourself right now," he mutters, jaw clenched. "I’m not taking advantage of you."

"Told you I'm not drunk. I—I'm just so horny," You admit with a shy chuckle. Getting no response from him, you huff, pushing him away with a frustrated groan. "Fine," you bite out. "Then I'll find someone who will."

Chris’s eyes darken instantly. "What?"

"If you won’t help me," you say, turning on your heel, "The hot-guy-with-extra-large-dick Han will."

You don’t make it two steps before Chris’s hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you back with enough force that you collide into his chest. You gasp, but before you can utter another word, his lips crash against yours.

The kiss is punishing—hot, deep, desperate. His hands grip your waist, pressing you firmly against him, his body heat consuming you. His lips move fiercely against yours, and you melt into him, moaning against his mouth.

When he finally pulls back, his breath is ragged, his forehead resting against yours. His grip on you tightens as he growls against your lips, "Get in the fucking car."

Your knees feel weak, your body humming in anticipation. His tone is commanding, leaving no room for argument. Swallowing hard, you nod, breathless.

Chris releases a sharp breath, then, without another word, opens the car door for you. This time, you get in.

Chris barely gets the door closed before your hands are on him again, tugging at his jacket, desperate to feel him. He groans against your lips, backing you toward the bed as his fingers work hastily to unbutton your dress.

"You're impatient tonight," he mutters, his voice rough with desire.

"You have no idea," you breathe, yanking his shirt up and over his head. Your hands roam his bare chest, nails scraping lightly down his toned abdomen.

Chris lets out a sharp breath, gripping the fabric of your dress and pulling it down your arms, letting it pool at your feet. His eyes darken as they rake over your body. "You're unreal," he murmurs, his hands roaming your curves, fingers tracing the thin lace of your underwear.

Your hands move to his belt, but he beats you to it, unfastening it in one swift motion before shoving his pants down. His mouth finds yours again, his kisses feverish, almost desperate. He lifts you effortlessly, guiding you onto the bed, his body pressing down against yours.

"Tell me what you need," he murmurs against your skin, his lips trailing down your neck, sending shivers through you.

"You," you whisper, tugging him even closer. "Now."

Chris shifts lower, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he trails kisses down your collarbone, his fingers tracing slow, teasing patterns along your inner thigh. His touch is light, deliberate, setting your nerves alight with anticipation.

"You’re already so worked up," he murmurs, his voice deep, laced with amusement as his fingers brush over the damp fabric of your underwear. His dark eyes flick up to meet yours, watching every little reaction, the way your breath catches, the way your fingers curl against the sheets.

He presses a single digit against you, just enough to feel the heat through the thin lace. "Tell me how bad you want it," he coaxes, but before you can answer, he pushes your underwear aside and slides a finger inside you, slow and deliberate.

A quiet gasp escapes your lips, and Chris smirks, drinking in the way your body tenses, the way your eyes flutter shut. "That good?" he muses, adding another finger, stretching you just right as he curls them slightly, hitting that spot that makes your hips jerk against his hand.

Your fingers dig into his bicep as he sets a steady rhythm, his thumb grazing against you in slow, lazy circles. "Look at you," he breathes, eyes fixated on your parted lips, the soft, involuntary moans slipping out with each movement. "So responsive..."

You bite your lip, barely able to keep yourself from begging for more, but he catches it, his pace shifting, pushing you right to the edge with expert precision. "Don’t hold back," he murmurs, his voice coaxing, hypnotic. "I want to see you fall apart."

Chris watches you unravel, your body trembling against his touch as waves of pleasure wash over you. His fingers never stop moving until you're spent, your breath ragged and uneven. He presses a deep kiss against your parted lips, swallowing the soft whimpers still escaping from you.

When he finally pulls away, you blink up at him, dazed, still reeling. But the hunger inside you hasn’t dulled—it’s only grown stronger. "More," you whisper, your fingers curling around his wrist, guiding his hand back to where you need him the most.

Chris chuckles, low and warm, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. "Greedy, mmh?" he teases, but his voice is thick with desire, betraying how much he wants this just as badly. He leans in, capturing your lips in another slow, lingering kiss before murmuring against your mouth, "I think it's safer if I put the condom on first."

He pushes himself up and gets off the bed, he goes to where your drop your bag on the floor, rummaging through your bag to find the box of condom inside and takes one before returning to bed.

Chris pauses, the condom packet crinkling between his fingers as his eyes land on you. You’re sprawled on the bed, legs spread apart, your fingers moving slowly over your clit while your gaze stays locked onto him. The heat between you both thickens, crackling in the space between you.

He exhales sharply, his grip loosening on the condom as he lets it drop onto the nightstand. His other hand slides down his toned abdomen, wrapping around himself, stroking lazily as he watches you. The way your breaths grow uneven, the way your body responds to the sight of him—it sends a dark thrill through him.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he murmurs, his voice husky, teasing. He gives himself a slow, deliberate stroke, his eyes darkening with something possessive. "Watching me while you touch yourself."

He doesn’t move toward you just yet. He wants to see how far you’ll take it, how much you crave him. And judging by the way your fingers move faster, your lips parting on a quiet gasp, he knows you want this just as badly as he does.

Chris continues watching, enthralled, as your body trembles and shudders under the pleasure you give yourself. Your breaths come out in soft, uneven pants, your fingers working you through your high while your eyes remain locked on him. The way you fall apart at the mere sight of him stroking himself—it sends a deep, possessive satisfaction coursing through him.

As your body relaxes from the waves of pleasure, Chris finally moves. He climbs onto the bed with effortless grace, settling beside you. His hand finds yours, his fingers curling around your wrist as he brings your trembling fingers to his lips.

Holding your gaze, he presses his mouth to your fingertips, his tongue flicking out to taste you. A low hum rumbles in his chest as he licks them clean, his eyes dark with something hungry, something dangerous. "So sweet," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "I could get addicted to this."

Chris keeps his heated gaze locked onto yours as he finally rolls the condom down his length. The way he handles himself—so sure, so in control—only fuels the fire burning inside you.

He reaches for your legs, his hands warm and firm as he lifts them, settling them against his chest. His lips find your calf first, pressing a lingering kiss there before trailing lower, his breath hot against your skin. His mouth finds your ankle next, planting another kiss there, unhurried, almost reverent, before he finally parts your legs just enough.

You feel the weight of him as he slips between, his thick length pressing against your cunt but not quite entering. Instead, he rocks his hips forward, the friction sending a slow, torturous pleasure through your core as he thrusts between the soft, slick heat of your thighs.

His grip tightens, holding your legs securely against him as he sets a steady rhythm, dragging his cock between your folds with each deliberate roll of his hips. The teasing sensation makes you ache, makes you crave more, but Chris doesn’t rush. He keeps his pace steady, his lips brushing over your ankle again as he murmurs, “You feel so good like this.”

Chris keeps his steady rhythm, his length gliding between your thighs, dragging against your swollen clit with every thrust. His grip on your legs tightens as he watches you, his eyes dark with hunger. The pressure, the friction—it’s all too much, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge of release.

Sensing it, Chris suddenly lets go of your legs, spreading them wide on either side of him. His hands find your hips, and before you can even process what’s happening, he pushes forward, sinking his length into your entrance in one smooth motion.

The sudden stretch, the overwhelming fullness, and the way he fills you—it all crashes over you at once. Your body tenses before unraveling, pleasure slamming through you as you come hard around him, your walls fluttering and squeezing him tight.

Chris groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he stills inside you, feeling every wave of your release. His lips part, eyes locked onto your blissed-out expression as he murmurs, “That’s it… just like that.”

He stills for a moment, letting you ride out the aftershocks of your climax before he starts moving again, his thrusts slow and steady. He watches the way your body takes him, stretching to accommodate his size, your breath hitching with each movement.

But then, as he pushes his cock deeper, you let out a sharp whine, your hands gripping his arms. “Chris… not too deep,” you whine.

He freezes immediately, concern flashing in his dark eyes. Without hesitation, he withdraws just enough to ease the pressure, his touch grounding. “Better?” he asks, voice low, restrained.

You nod, your muscles relaxing beneath him. Chris carefully thrusts back in, this time slower, more measured, watching for any signs of discomfort. But instead of pain, a moan slips past your lips, your body adjusting around him.

His lips curve into a smirk before he leans down, capturing your lips in a slow, searing kiss. “You feel so good around me,” he murmurs against your mouth, his voice thick with desire. He punctuates his words with another deep thrust, swallowing your moan as he kisses you again, his hands roaming, grounding you in the pleasure only he can give.

Chris moves with utmost care, his body pressing flush against yours as he fills you over and over again. His breath is warm against your skin, his lips tracing a path from your jaw down to your collarbone, lingering as if he wants to savor every inch of you.

You shudder beneath him, overwhelmed by the fullness, by the way he’s stretching you in a way no one else ever could. “Chris… touch me,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

A low growl rumbles in his chest as his hand glides between your soft mounds, he fondles on the ample flesh before pinching on your nipples, drawing out sounds from you that make his eyes darken with need. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “Oh, this body—So fucking perfect for me.”

He kisses down your throat, across your chest, taking each of your nipple into his mouth and sucking on it hard, his lips trailing over every place his hands explore. The possessiveness in his touch sends heat straight to your core. He cups your face, forcing you to look at him as he thrusts deeper. “No one fits you perfectly like I do,” he whispers against your lips before kissing you slow and deep. “Just me. You’re mine.”

And with the way your body tightens around him, surrendering completely, you know you’re his.

Chris entwines his fingers with yours, pressing your hands above your head, pinning you to the bed as he keeps moving inside you. His thrusts are deep, deliberate—like he wants to make sure you feel every inch of him, to make sure you know exactly who’s making you fall apart.

Your body tightens around him, your breaths coming in short, desperate gasps as the pleasure coils inside you, building to an unbearable peak. He watches you, his gaze dark and intense, his own breathing ragged as he chases his release alongside you.

"Let go," he whispers against your lips, his voice thick with need. "Come for me."

And you do—your entire body arching, trembling beneath him as waves of pleasure crash through you, pulling him along with you. His grip on your hands tightens as he groans, his movements becoming erratic before he finally buries himself deep inside you one last time, his release following yours.

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths, the warmth of his body still pressed against yours. Then, slowly, he loosens his hold on your hands, kissing each of your wrists before lowering himself to kiss your lips—soft this time, lingering, as if he doesn’t want to let go of this moment just yet.

The next moment, you find yourself lying on your side, exhaustion settling deep in your bones, your body still thrumming from the aftermath of pleasure. Your eyelids grow heavy, and just as you’re about to drift off, you feel the mattress dip behind you. Chris slips back into bed, his warmth immediately surrounding you, and without thinking, you instinctively snuggle against him.

Softly, you murmur his name, tilting your head slightly, searching for him in the dim glow of the room. He hears you—feels you—and before you can say anything more, his lips find yours. The kiss is slow, unhurried, a stark contrast to the intensity from earlier. You sigh against his mouth, guiding his arm around you, pressing his hand to your skin, silently asking for more.

His fingers trace gentle patterns along your arm, down your side, skimming over the curves of your body with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t push—just touches you like he’s memorizing every inch, grounding you in his presence.

The soothing rhythm of his touch, the steady rise and fall of his breathing behind you, lulls you into a peaceful haze. As you begin to slip into sleep, Chris presses one last kiss to the back of your shoulder, his hold tightening around you, as if silently telling you that he’s not going anywhere.

You feel yourself sinking deeper into sleep, wrapped in Chris’s warmth, his touch lingering on your skin like a quiet promise. His breathing is steady, soothing, his hand resting on your waist as if he doesn’t want to let go.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know this was supposed to be about the product test. About business. About work. But none of that seems to matter anymore.

All you can think about is him—how good he feels around you, how perfectly he fits against you, how easy it is to lose yourself in him. And for the first time, you don’t try to fight it. You just let yourself fall.

Monday morning arrives with a heavy weight pressing down on your shoulders. The upcoming presentation looms over you, and as you go through your notes, tweaking last-minute details, the stress slowly builds.

Your lab is unusually quiet, everyone focused on their own work, but the tension is unmistakable. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself when the door swings open, and in comes Jane, carrying a tray of coffee cups.

"Morning, everyone," she chirps, setting the tray down on the nearest counter. She picks up one cup and hands it to you personally. "Thought you could use this before your big presentation."

You take it gratefully, the warmth of the cup grounding you. "Thanks, Jane. I really need it."

She grins, tapping your shoulder playfully. "You're gonna do great. Don’t overthink it. Just go in there and show them why you’re the best at what you do."

Your team murmurs their agreement, offering you nods of encouragement. You exhale, feeling a little lighter. "Alright. Let’s do this."

You stand at the front of the conference room, the large screen behind you displaying your carefully crafted slides. Taking a steadying breath, you begin your presentation, guiding the board through the development, research, and testing phases of your product. You're clearly nervous but you also can't deny that there's this spark of excitement inside you from knowing that Chris is here.

Everything goes smoothly—until one of the executives leans forward and asks, "Have you completed the product testing?"

You hesitate for only a second before answering honestly. "Yes, my team and I have conducted tests with about 20 participants so far. The results have come in at approximately 82 percent, but those results show overwhelmingly positive outcomes for the product."

The room hums with murmurs as the board members exchange glances. Another executive asks, "Only 82 percent? Is there a reason why it hasn’t reached full completion?"

You nod, maintaining your composure. "Some participants haven't finished all phases of testing yet, and we're still gathering long-term feedback. However, the data we've collected so far strongly supports the product's effectiveness and market viability."

There’s a brief pause before one of the higher-ups speaks. "So, based on the current results, do you believe the product is ready for the next phase?"

Your grip tightens slightly on the remote in your hand. You briefly glance at Chris, looking calm and composed. Turning back to the board, you lift your chin and respond with confidence. "Yes, I do."

The board members exchange glances, some nodding in agreement while others seem uncertain. They begin discussing among themselves, weighing the potential risks and benefits of pushing the product into production with only 82 percent of the testing complete.

You listen intently, your fingers subtly gripping the edge of the table as you wait for their final say. But then, Chris—who has been mostly quiet throughout the presentation—clears his throat.

"As the product manager," he begins, leaning slightly forward with his hands clasped together on the table, "I believe this product shows great promise, but I also think it needs more time to fully develop as a whole before moving to production."

His words hit you like a sudden chill. You blink, barely concealing your surprise as you turn to look at him. Of all people, you thought he would support you, not slow things down.

"Why?" One of the executives asks, shifting their focus to Chris.

Chris exhales, maintaining a calm but firm demeanor. "While the test results are positive, we still have incomplete data. Rushing production without that final percentage could lead to unforeseen issues down the line. I suggest we allow more time for testing to ensure we’re delivering the best possible product."

The air in the room feels heavy, charged with an unexpected tension. You sit there, frozen, staring at Chris as his words settle over the table like a cold gust of wind.

Needs more time.

You blink, certain you misheard him. But as you scan the room, watching the board members nodding along to his words, reality sinks in. You expected hesitation from them, some pushback—but from Chris? The one person you thought would support you?

Your fingers tighten slightly against the smooth surface of the table as one of the executives speaks up. "Mr. Bang, the data so far shows overwhelmingly positive results. What concerns do you have specifically?"

Chris remains composed, his expression calm and professional. "While the initial findings are promising, we're still missing a full picture. An 82 percent completion rate isn’t enough. We need to ensure the product works consistently across all test cases. If we rush into production now and unforeseen issues arise, it could set us back significantly."

You swallow, your pulse quickening. His reasoning makes sense, but something about this doesn’t sit right with you.

"But," you interject, keeping your tone even, "our projections show that the product is already outperforming expectations. The test subjects' feedback has been overwhelmingly positive. We could work on final refinements even as we prepare for production."

Chris finally turns to you, and for a fleeting moment, something unreadable flickers in his gaze. "It's not just about projections. We need certainty. If we wait and refine the product further, we’ll have a stronger launch, with fewer risks."

You press your lips together, your stomach twisting. Why does it feel like he’s shutting this down?

The board members deliberate, murmuring among themselves before one of them speaks up. "We appreciate your work on this, but we agree with Mr. Bang’s recommendation. We need to be absolutely sure before we move forward. Continue testing. We’ll revisit this in a month."

A month.

You inhale slowly, forcing a composed nod. "Understood."

The meeting adjourns, chairs scraping against the floor as people gather their notes. You stay seated for a second longer, staring blankly at the screen where your presentation once was.

You remain seated as the board members file out, their decision echoing in your mind like a dull, unrelenting thud. The weight of it presses against your chest, but nothing feels heavier than the quiet betrayal sitting in the air between you and Chris.

You glance toward the door, catching sight of his retreating back as he exits the room without looking at you. No explanation. No acknowledgment. Nothing.

Your fingers clench around the edge of the table. Disbelief lingers in your bones, tightening around your ribs. You never expected him—of all people—to be the one to hold you back. To stand in the way of your work. Your progress.

He should have had your back. Shouldn’t he? But instead, he shut you down.

You force yourself to stand, smoothing down your blouse even as frustration simmers beneath your skin. You don’t know why Chris went against you today. You don’t know why he suddenly acted as though this wasn’t something worth pushing forward.

You exhale, shaking off the uneasy feeling creeping into your chest. Maybe he’s just being cautious. Maybe this really is just about the product.

Maybe.

✨ The third chapter of Cocky is available on my Patreon page. ✨

Please support my writings by kindly reblog, comment or consider tipping me on my ko-fi!

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