#i need more hours in the day can someone make that happen thanks

[papa-evershed]

[jupiterpilgrim]

Attitude

Kim Chaewon x Male Reader

word count: 13K

It's Friday.

The office is dead quiet, the kind of silence that feels too heavy after hours. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting pale, washed-out light on the few desks still occupied. Yours is one of them.

You’re slouched over your keyboard like roadkill, head resting on your folded arms. Everything feels muted—your energy, your mood, the world in general. You haven’t eaten all day, and the cold leftover coffee in your mug tastes like despair.

But before you can continue to suffocate in your cocoon of sadness and self-pity, her sharp voice cuts in:

“Wow. You look like shit.”

You lift your head just enough to glare at Kim Chaewon. She’s leaning against the side of your desk, arms crossed, her sharp bob framing her face like she stepped off a Pinterest board for "hot office chic." Her tailored pants sit perfectly on her hips, sharp creases cutting down her turned legs, emphasizing every curve. The blouse she’s wearing is neatly tucked in, accentuating that unfairly tiny waist. The coat? New, for sure—some designer nonsense, knowing her. Her expression is as sharp as ever, her dark eyes cutting right into you.

“Thanks,” you mumble, dropping your head back down. “Really needed that.”

She doesn’t move. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

You groan into your arms. “Just tired, okay? Long day.”

Chaewon snorts, a sound that’s half amusement, half derision. “Yeah, because you’re known for working so hard. Sure.”

“I’m serious.” You finally sit up, running a hand through your hair. It doesn’t matter how you try to play this; she can see right through you.

She always does.

“Don’t lie to me.” Her voice softens, just a bit, but there’s still an edge. “I know something’s up. You’ve been moping around all week like someone kicked your dog.”

“It’s nothing.”

She tilts her head, her sharp gaze narrowing. “It’s about her, isn’t it?”

You tense up, your fingers clenching around the edge of your desk. “I, uh… I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I knew it.” She exhales through her nose, shaking her head like she’s disgusted. “God, I told you this was going to happen.”

There it is. The last thing you need: Chaewon’s patented I Told You So energy. “Seriously, I’m fine,” you lie, your voice cracking in a way that betrays you completely.

“Oh, you’re fine?” She raises an eyebrow, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Cool. That’s why you look like someone just ran over your soul.”

You press your palms into your eyes, trying to block her out. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Yeah, well, tough.” She uncrosses her arms, resting a hand on her hip. “Let’s go get a drink.”

You blink up at her. “What?”

“A drink,” she repeats, like you’re an idiot. “You know, alcohol? That thing you drown your sorrows in?”

“Why?”

“Because sitting here sulking is pathetic, and I can’t stand looking at it anymore.” Her lips twitch like she’s fighting a smirk. “And let’s be real, you’ll be slightly less annoying when you’re drunk.”

You hesitate. The thought of spending more time with Chaewon—queen of snark, master of unsolicited opinions—isn’t exactly appealing. But then again, neither is going home to your empty apartment.

And besides, she is your friend after all. Even though she seems to care about you in a way that is particularly hers.

“Fine,” you mutter, grabbing your bag and coat. “One drink.”

Her smirk widens. “Make it two. You’re going to need it.”

—

The two of you walk down the hallway toward the elevators, your steps heavy, hers sharp and purposeful. The silence stretches between you, awkward and suffocating, so you try to fill it with literally anything else.

“So… did you see the email about the quarterly report updates?” you ask, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Looks like the finance team is gonna implode again.”

Chaewon glances at you, her expression blank. “Uh-huh.”

Encouraged by the lack of immediate judgment, you keep going. “Yeah, they keep messing up the projections. I mean, how hard is it to use a spreadsheet, right?” You force a chuckle. “Maybe we should give them remedial Excel classes or something. Like, step one: stop sucking.”

“Mm-hmm,” she hums, noncommittal.

You glance at her out of the corner of your eye. She’s staring straight ahead, her lips twitching like she’s holding back a laugh—or gearing up to kill you. It’s hard to tell with her.

The elevator dings, and you step inside, immediately finding something—anything—to stare at. The buttons, the wall, the floor.

God, the floor is fascinating.

Is that gum?

No, just a weird stain.

“Okay, what the hell are you doing?” Chaewon’s voice slices through the awkward silence, sharp and irritated.

“What?” You glance at her but quickly look away again. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” She crosses her arms, leaning against the side of the elevator, her dark eyes locked on you. “You’re acting like a guilty teenager. What’s your deal?”

“I’m not—” You pause, frowning at the ceiling now like it holds the answers to life’s mysteries. “I’m not doing anything.”

Her gaze feels like a laser, burning into the side of your head. You swallow hard, desperate to shift gears. “Hey, uh, did you cut your hair?” You gesture vaguely at her head, avoiding her eyes. “Looks shorter.”

Chaewon’s brow furrows, then her lips curve into a slow, knowing smirk. “Wow. You’re really gonna do this, huh?”

“Do what?” you ask, feigning confusion.

“Run away from the conversation like a little bitch.”

Fuck.

“I’m not running away,” you mumble, staring at the floor again.

She straightens, taking a small step closer, and you can feel her eyes boring into you. “Oh, you absolutely are. It’s almost impressive, honestly.”

The elevator dings again, signaling you’ve reached the ground floor, and you practically lunge for the door. Anything to escape the suffocating space and her relentless gaze. But as you walk out, her voice follows, resonant and unforgiving:

“You know you can’t avoid this forever, right?”

You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. You’re not sure if the drink she promised will make this better—or worse. Probably worse.

Now outside the building, the city feels colder than usual, the January air slicing through your thin coat. You jam your hands deeper into your pockets as Chaewon strides ahead, leading the way to a bar you’ve been to a few times after work. It’s nothing fancy—dim lighting, common wooden tables, decent drinks. The kind of place you don’t have to think too much about, which suits you fine right now.

She’s quiet for once, her steps crisp against the sidewalk. You trail behind, trying to figure out how to fill the silence. Talking feels safer than letting her drag you into emotional territory.

“I, uh, I’ve been listening to Taylor Swift lately,” you blurt out.

That gets her attention.

She slows, glancing back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Taylor Swift?”

“Yeah. You said I should give her a shot, remember? You’re always going on about her lyrics or whatever.”

Chaewon’s mouth quirks, like she’s fighting a smile. “And?”

“And…” You hesitate, feeling oddly self-conscious. “She’s good, okay? I’ve had Blank Space on repeat all week.”

At that, she lets out a short laugh, the sound cutting through the cold. “Oh my god. That’s such a basic choice.”

“Hey, it’s catchy,” you protest, grinning despite yourself. “And relatable. You know, the whole ‘darling, I’m a nightmare’ vibe.”

“Relatable?” She tilts her head, smirking. “You think you’re the nightmare, or…”

“Can we not analyze my music choices right now?” you cut in, shaking your head.

For a moment, the mood feels lighter. She’s distracted, you’re distracted, and the tension hanging between you starts to dissolve. But just as you’re beginning to think you’ve dodged the worst of it, she pulls the rug out from under you.

“So,” Chaewon says casually, “about your relationship…”

You groan, throwing your head back. “Seriously? I thought we were bonding over Taylor Swift!”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.” She stops walking, turning to face you with her arms crossed. Her eyes are sharp again, cutting right through your defenses. “When did it end?”

You hesitate, your mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“That’s what I thought,” she says, filling the silence.

Desperate to steer the conversation away, you blurt out, “What about you? Any big plans for 2025?”

She blinks, caught off guard for half a second before narrowing her eyes. “Nice try.”

“No, really. What’s the plan? New job? New hobbies? Finally learning to not be such a pain in the ass?”

Chaewon rolls her eyes but humors you. “I don’t know. Probably more of the same. Working, eating overpriced sushi, babysitting your emotional meltdowns.”

“I don’t have meltdowns,” you mutter.

“Sure you don’t.”

You both start walking again, the bar now just a block away. The cold bites at your face, but her presence feels oddly warm, even when she’s being difficult.

Then, she strikes. “When did it end?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, and this time, there’s no escape. You shove your hands deeper into your coat pockets, staring at the ground as you mutter, “Four days ago.”

Chaewon stops again, her boots scuffing against the pavement. “Four days?” she repeats, her voice softer now.

You nod, your throat tight.

She doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at you like she’s trying to figure out what to do next. Her usual sharpness fades, replaced by something you can’t quite name.

“Come on,” she finally says, her voice quieter. “Let’s get that drink.”

You follow her into the bar, bracing yourself for whatever’s coming next.

—

The bar is dimly lit, the kind of place where the furniture doesn’t match and the music is just loud enough to drown out awkward silences. It smells like spilled beer and fried food, comforting in a low-effort kind of way. You follow Chaewon to a corner table, sliding into the seat opposite her. Your back is hunched, arms resting on the table like they might just hold you together.

Chaewon doesn’t even ask what you want. She waves down the bartender and orders your usual—a whiskey soda—and something for herself. The fact that she remembers your drink feels both reassuring and mildly irritating, like she’s been quietly cataloging your life just to one-up you at moments like this.

When she comes back with the drinks, she slides yours across the table, taking her own seat. “Here,” she says, setting her glass down with a little more force than necessary. “Drink. You need it.”

You pick up the glass, taking a slow sip. The burn of the whiskey settles in your chest, warming you in a way the freezing walk over couldn’t.

For a moment, you think she might let you enjoy the drink in peace. But of course not.

“So,” she starts, leaning back in her chair. “What happened?”

You sigh, swirling the ice in your glass. “Do we have to do this now?”

“Yes.” Her tone is firm, unrelenting. She sips her drink, her eyes fixed on you over the rim of the glass. “Spill.”

You set the glass down, running a hand through your hair. “We just… weren’t compatible anymore.”

Chaewon snorts. “Bullshit. What does that even mean?”

“It means we had different tastes,” you say, glaring at her. “She liked going out all the time; I’d rather stay home. She liked clubbing; I liked reading. She thought Netflix was boring—who even thinks that?!” You pause, rubbing your temples. “And then she started getting distant, like she didn’t even enjoy talking to me anymore. Everything I said felt like it annoyed her. Until…”

“Until?” Chaewon prompts, her tone sharper now.

“Until she snapped,” you mutter. “She said I was boring. And too nerdy. For her, apparently.”

Chaewon’s jaw tightens. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Nope.”

“That’s such bullshit.” She slams her drink down on the table, the glass clinking against the wood. “What the hell is wrong with her? I mean, boring? Nerdy? Please. She’s just projecting her own basic-ass insecurities onto you.”

You let out a weak laugh, staring into your drink. “Yeah, well, you warned me, right?”

“You’re damn right I did.” She points a finger at you like she’s scolding a misbehaving child. “From the second you introduced her, I knew she wasn’t worth it. God, the way she talked about astrology like it was a science? Red flag. Huge.”

“Okay, she wasn’t that bad,” you mutter.

Chaewon narrows her eyes. “Don’t defend her. She literally called you boring, and for what? Because you’re not into overpriced cocktails and pretending to enjoy techno music?”

You chuckle despite yourself, shaking your head.

“And another thing,” she continues, clearly warming up now. “Why the hell do you always go for these girls, huh? These… these cookie-cutter influencers or wannabe fashionistas or whatever? It’s like you have a radar for people who are only gonna treat you like crap.”

“Wow, thanks for the support,” you say dryly.

“I’m serious!” She leans forward, her voice dropping slightly. “You could date someone who actually appreciates you. Someone who doesn’t think liking sci-fi is a crime or that staying in is a death sentence. Someone who…” She pauses, looking away briefly before shaking her head. “Anyway, you have terrible taste, is what I’m saying.”

You rest your arms on the table, elbows planted firmly as your hands cradle your head. The whiskey soda sits half-finished in front of you, the ice already starting to melt, but you barely notice it.

“I don’t think I’m compatible with anyone,” you mutter, more to the table than to Chaewon.

She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms as she watches you with that unreadable expression she’s so good at. “Oh, here we go.”

“I’m serious.” You glance up at her, your face twisted in defeat. “I think I’m just… done. With all of it.”

“‘Done’?” she repeats, her tone dripping with skepticism.

“Yeah.” You sit up slightly, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “Love. Dating. Relationships. The whole thing. What’s the point? It’s just rejection after rejection, disappointment after disappointment. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m the problem.”

Chaewon snorts, swirling the drink in her hand. “That’s dramatic, even for you.”

“Is it, though?” You lean forward, resting your chin on your hands. “I mean, think about it. Every time I try, it ends the same way. They get bored, or I annoy them, or they find someone else who’s, I don’t know, less me.”

Her brows knit together slightly, the teasing edge in her expression softening just a bit. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m being realistic,” you counter, sitting back in your chair with a defeated sigh. “Maybe I’m just not meant to be with anyone. Maybe I’m one of those people who’s better off alone.”

She groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “God, you’re exhausting.”

“See? Even you can’t stand me for too long,” you joke bitterly.

Chaewon sets her drink down with a loud clink, leaning forward to glare at you. “Stop it. You’re not the problem. Like I said, the problem is your taste in women.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Don't play dumb.” She waves a hand, dismissing your confusion. “You keep picking people who don’t deserve you. People who don’t get you. That’s on them, not you.”

“Or maybe,” you say, lowering your voice, “I’m just not worth getting.”

Her glare sharpens, and for a second, you think she might actually throw her drink at you. “Don’t. Don’t do that self-pitying bullshit. You’re worth it. You’re just too stupid to see it.”

You let out a humorless laugh, rubbing your hands over your face. “Thanks for the pep talk. Really uplifting.”

Chaewon exhales sharply, sitting back and crossing her arms again. “Look, you’re not perfect. You’re stubborn, and you overthink everything, and sometimes you talk about The Legend of Zelda like it’s a religion.”

“It is a religion,” you mutter.

“But—” she continues, ignoring you, “—you’re also kind, and funny, and smart. And you care, probably too much, which is why these assholes keep hurting you. That’s not a bad thing, okay? It just means you need to stop wasting your time on people who don’t care back.”

Her words hang in the air, heavier than you expected. You stare at your glass, tracing the condensation with your finger. “I’m tired, Chaewon,” you admit quietly. “I’m just… tired of trying.”

Her expression softens, the sharp edges dulling slightly. She reaches across the table, nudging your hand with hers. “Then stop trying so hard. Let the right person find you.”

You glance up at her, and for a moment, you think you see something in her eyes—something that makes your chest tighten. But before you can figure it out, she leans back, grabbing her drink again.

“And in the meantime,” she adds, her smirk returning, “stop being such a drama queen. You’re not giving up on love. Think of it like you're taking a break.”

You laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “Fine. A break. But if I die alone, I’m haunting you.”

“Deal.” She clinks her glass against yours, a crooked smile on her lips.

You take another sip of your drink, feeling the warmth seep into your bones. The weight on your chest feels a little lighter now, though not by much. Chaewon watches you over the rim of her glass, there’s something softer lurking in her gaze—a flicker of concern she’d probably deny if you brought it up.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence, “did you actually cut your hair?”

Chaewon huffs, rolling her eyes. “Yes. Why?”

You shrug, trying to sound casual. “It suits you. I mean, it’s good. Really good, actually.”

She pauses mid-sip, her eyes flicking to yours. “Thanks,” she says, her tone vague, but the way she fidgets with her glass gives her away.

You smirk, leaning back in your chair. “You’re bad at taking compliments, you know that?”

“Shut up,” she mutters, but there’s no real heat behind it. Her lips twitch like she’s fighting a smile, and for a second, the tension between you dissolves completely.

The conversation drifts to safer territory after that, and you find yourself updating her on the games you’ve been playing. “I’ve been sinking way too many hours into that new RPG,” you admit, swirling the ice in your glass. “The one with the insane skill trees? It’s stupidly addictive.”

She tilts her head, genuinely interested. “The one with the branching storylines?”

“Yeah! I’ve already screwed up like three questlines because I made the wrong dialogue choices. It’s brutal.”

Chaewon chuckles, resting her chin on her hand as she listens. “Sounds like it’s punishing you for being indecisive.”

“Exactly! It’s like the developers made it specifically to torture me.”

You keep talking, describing the game mechanics, the world-building, the characters. And she listens. Really listens. She’s not scrolling through her phone or zoning out or pretending to care just to be polite. She’s engaged, asking questions, making observations that show she’s actually paying attention.

It hits you then, how different this is. How different she is.

Your ex never really cared about this stuff. She’d roll her eyes the moment you brought up a game, tuning out or flat-out telling you she wasn’t interested. Conversations with her always felt like walking a tightrope, trying to find the one topic that wouldn’t bore her. With Chaewon, it’s… easy.

“Honestly, I think you’d like it,” you say, gesturing with your glass. “The story’s your kind of thing—morally gray characters, lots of political intrigue. You’d probably end up siding with the villain, though.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Why would I side with the villain?”

“Because you’re a menace,” you deadpan, grinning when she rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, well, at least I’m not the type to get emotionally attached to fictional characters,” she fires back, smirking.

“First of all, rude,” you say, pointing at her. “Second of all, you cried at the end of Fullmetal Alchemist, so don’t even.”

Her smirk falters, and she narrows her eyes. “That doesn’t count. That was different.”

“Sure it was.”

The banter flows easily, the kind that feels effortless, natural. You realize, not for the first time, how much you enjoy talking to her. How much you look forward to these moments when the world feels less crushing and complicated.

And then there’s the way she’s looking at you now, her dark eyes steady and focused, her chin still resting on her hand. Like she’s actually glad to be here with you.

You don’t say it out loud, but it’s nice.

It’s more than nice.

“Anyway,” she says, breaking the silence, “if you’re going to recommend a game, you better let me borrow it. Why waste money when I've got you, my walking game library?"

You laugh, raising your glass in mock salute. “Consider it done.”

You can’t help but smile as Chaewon takes a sip of her drink, the corners of her lips quirking upward in that way that says she’s amused but refuses to fully admit it. Her eyes glimmer in the low bar lighting, and for a moment, it feels like the two of you are in your own little bubble, separate from the hum of the bar around you.

“You know,” you say, swirling the last of your whiskey, “I wasn’t kidding about you siding with the villain. You’ve got that whole morally ambiguous vibe.”

Chaewon raises an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “Excuse me? Morally ambiguous? Care to elaborate?”

“Sure.” You grin, resting your elbows on the table. “You’re always roasting me for no reason. You have a resting bitch face so intense it scares the new hires. And don’t think I didn’t see you steal the last donut at the office meeting last week, even though you knew I hadn’t had breakfast.”

Her jaw drops in mock indignation. “Okay, first of all, the donuts are fair game. It’s survival of the fittest.”

“Oh, is that what you’re calling it?” you tease. “Because it looked more like petty theft.”

Chaewon snorts, trying to stifle her laugh, but it escapes anyway—a melodic sound that fills the space between you. It’s unguarded, real, and it makes your chest feel a little lighter.

“Second of all,” she continues, still smiling, “you were too slow. Not my fault you can’t fight for what you want.”

“Wow,” you say, feigning a wounded expression. “Cold. Absolutely ruthless.”

“I’m a realist,” she quips, smirking.

“No, you’re a donut thief.”

That gets her again. She leans back, laughing openly now, her shoulders shaking as she tries to catch her breath. The sound is warm, bright, and for some reason, it feels like a reward—a moment of connection you didn’t realize you needed.

“God, you’re such an idiot,” she says, wiping at the corner of her eye.

“Maybe,” you admit, grinning. “But at least I’m not the office villain.”

“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes but doesn’t stop smiling. “If anyone’s the villain, it’s you. You’re the one who keeps stealing my stapler.”

“Only because you keep hiding my mouse batteries.”

“That was one time.”

“And it was chaos,” you retort. “I couldn’t even Google how to fix it because I didn’t have a mouse!”

She laughs again, her head tilting back slightly, and you realize how rare it is to see her this relaxed. There’s always a sharpness to her—an edge—but right now, she’s softer, her usual armor cracked just enough for you to peek through.

“You know,” you say after a moment, your tone more thoughtful, “you should laugh more. It suits you.”

She blinks, caught off guard, her smile fading just slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that it’s nice,” you say simply, leaning back in your chair. “Seeing you like this. It’s… nice.”

She looks at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she clears her throat, sitting up straighter. “Don’t get sappy on me, okay? I don’t do sappy.”

“Noted,” you say with a mock salute, though you can’t help but notice the faint blush creeping up her neck.

The conversation drifts again, this time to lighter topics—shared office gossip, the weird guy who sits by the printer, and that time Chaewon accidentally sent a snarky email to the entire department.

But through it all, you find yourself stealing glances at her, marveling at how she seems to know exactly how to pull you out of your own head. How she listens, really listens, in a way that makes you feel seen. And how her laughter—bright, unrestrained, and unapologetically her—lingers in the back of your mind, long after the sound fades.

—

The bar has emptied out a bit, the din of voices replaced by the soft hum of the jukebox in the corner playing some indie song you don’t recognize. Three rounds have come and gone—the whiskey soda you started with, smooth and sharp; a pint of amber ale, bitter enough to match your mood; and finally, a vodka tonic that sits untouched, the ice long since melted into a watery mess. You’re slumped over, your head resting on your arms, the fatigue creeping in after a long, emotionally draining day.

Across from you, Chaewon is still sitting upright, her glass half-empty as she watches you with an expression you can’t quite place. The faint buzz of alcohol has softened the sharp edges of her usual demeanor, leaving her looking almost thoughtful.

You lift your head just enough to look at her, squinting through the dim light. “What?”

She blinks, startled, as if she didn’t realize you’d noticed her staring. “What, what?”

“That look,” you say, waving a hand vaguely in her direction. “You’re doing that thing where you’re thinking too hard. What’s on your mind?”

Chaewon huffs, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit,” you murmur, resting your chin on your arms. “You’ve got that little smile thing going on. Spill.”

Her lips twitch, betraying her, and she glances away like she’s debating whether or not to answer. Finally, she sighs, shaking her head. “It’s just… you’ve got this thing about you.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite your exhaustion. “What thing?”

“This… helpless puppy vibe,” she says, her voice laced with reluctant amusement. “Like you’re just wandering through life, looking all lost and sad, and it makes people want to take care of you.”

You stare at her, caught between offense and confusion. “A puppy? Really?”

“Yeah, a puppy,” she repeats, smirking now. “Big, sad eyes. Kind of scruffy. Probably needs a bath. It's dangerous, you know?”

“Wow,” you say, sitting up slightly. “Thanks for that vivid and insulting description.”

“You asked.” She shrugs, but there’s something softer in her gaze now, a flicker of vulnerability she’s trying to hide.

You rest your head back on your arms, watching her through half-lidded eyes. “So what’s so dangerous about this hypothetical puppy version of me?”

Chaewon hesitates, tapping her fingers against her glass. When she speaks, her voice is quieter, almost hesitant. “Dangerous for… someone who thinks you deserve better. Someone who wants to see you happy.”

The words hang between you, heavy and unexpected. For a moment, you’re not sure if you heard her right.

“Someone like that actually exists?” you ask, your tone a mix of skepticism and self-deprecating humor.

She doesn’t answer immediately, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. There’s something in her expression now—something raw and unguarded that you’ve never seen before.

“You’re looking at this person,” she says simply.

The room feels too quiet all of a sudden, the music in the background fading into nothing. You stare at her, trying to process the weight of her words. There’s no teasing smirk, no sarcastic remark to soften the blow. Just Chaewon, sitting there, her gaze steady and unapologetic.

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Your brain is scrambling for something—anything—to say, but all you can do is stare at her like an idiot.

Finally, she breaks the silence, her lips quirking into a small, self-conscious smile. “Don’t look so shocked. It’s not like I’ve been subtle.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter, your voice cracking slightly.

She laughs softly, the sound both nervous and amused. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“Yeah,” you admit, still reeling. “I’m starting to get that.”

Chaewon leans forward, resting her elbows on the table as she studies you. “You don’t have to say anything,” she says quietly. “I just… I thought you should know.”

You nod slowly, your mind still spinning. The warmth in her gaze, the way she’s looking at you now—it feels like a lifeline, pulling you out of the fog you’ve been drowning in.

“Thanks,” you say finally.

“For what?”

“For… being here.”

The bar feels quieter than ever, as if the world has tuned out everything except the two of you. The moment feels too big for words, so you don’t try.

Instead, you ask:

“Can I hug you?”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Right now? In the middle of the bar?”

You glance around, gesturing vaguely at the room. “Why not? Nobody’s paying attention.”

She hesitates, lips pursed as if she’s weighing the pros and cons. Then, with a small huff of resignation, she nods. “Fine. But if this gets weird, I’m blaming you.”

You stand up slowly, your heart beating a little too fast as you make your way around the table. Chaewon stays seated for a moment, like she’s still deciding if she’s really going to go through with it, but then she rises to meet you.

Her arms come up awkwardly at first, like she’s not sure where to put them, but then you pull her in, and everything just clicks.

Her small frame presses against yours, fitting perfectly into the curve of your arms. She’s warm, her body soft but firm where it leans into you. Her hair smells faintly of citrus and something floral—clean, crisp, and distinctly her. And her perfume… it’s subtle but intoxicating, a quiet reminder of how she always seems to take your breath away without trying.

You hold her tighter, your hands resting gently on the small of her back. She doesn’t pull away—in fact, she leans in just a little more, her cheek brushing against your chest.

“This is nice,” you murmur, your voice low and almost sleepy.

She chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against you. “You sound like you’re about to fall asleep.”

“Maybe I am,” you admit, your eyelids drooping. “Could totally sleep here, just like this.”

Chaewon tilts her head back slightly to look up at you, her eyes catching the dim light in a way that makes your heart do something weird and uncoordinated. “You’re such an idiot,” she says, but there’s no bite to her words.

“An idiot who’s comfortable,” you counter, letting your head rest lightly against hers.

She hesitates for a beat, then says, “Come to my place.”

You blink, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. “What?”

“My apartment,” she says, her voice quieter now but steady. “It’s close. You can crash there. No point in going all the way home when you’re about to pass out.”

For a moment, you just look at her, trying to process what exactly she’s offering.

“That’s… a great idea,” you say finally, your lips curving into a small smile. “Let’s do it.”

Chaewon steps back, giving you one last once-over like she’s making sure you won’t collapse on the way there. “Good. But if you snore, I’m kicking you out.”

“Fair,” you reply, grinning.

As the two of you leave the bar together, stepping out into the crisp night air, you can’t help but feel like something has shifted—something subtle but undeniable. The space between you feels smaller now, the connection deeper.

—

Chaewon’s apartment greets you with a kind of stillness, like it’s been waiting quietly for her return. She’s ahead of you, shrugging off her coat and neatly hanging it on the hook by the door before toeing off her boots and lining them up with precision against the wall.

“Make yourself at home,” she says, her voice casual but carrying that hint of expectation, like she’s daring you to do anything but comply. “Want some tea?”

“Tea sounds great,” you say, still standing awkwardly in the entryway, unsure where to step in a place that looks like it belongs in a design catalog. To avoid mistakes, you mimic her movements, hanging your coat next to hers, same thing with your shoes. You place your bag on the floor beside the sofa to keep it from being in the way. "I love tea, it's very, uh, natural."

She nods and disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to take it all in.

The space is pure Chaewon—clean, clinical, with sharp angles and muted tones. The furniture is sleek and minimal, not a throw pillow out of place. Even the books on the shelves are organized by size, their spines forming a perfect gradient from light to dark. There’s no clutter, no mess, not even a stray sock to prove she actually lives here.

You wander further in, the floor under your socked feet smooth and cool. There’s a single potted plant on the windowsill, its leaves glossy and impossibly green, like it’s been getting five-star treatment since birth. You stop to study it, half expecting to see tiny instructions taped to the pot—water twice a day, rotate for even sunlight, apologize if you overwater.

The shelves catch your eye next. Books, a few picture frames, a small collection of vinyl records. You tilt your head, curious, but resist the urge to reach out and touch anything. The last thing you need is to knock over some rare artifact of her highly curated life.

“You’re snooping,” Chaewon’s voice comes from behind you, startling you enough to make you flinch.

“Not snooping,” you protest, spinning around. “Just… looking. Observing. Admiring?”

She raises an eyebrow, one hand holding a mug, the other a small tray with a teapot and another mug. “Uh-huh. You're acting like a nosy puppy.”

“Err, I really don't understand this correlation between puppies and me... Maybe I’m just trying to figure you out,” you quip, though your face feels a little warm at being caught.

Chaewon smirks, setting the tray down on the coffee table and gesturing for you to sit on the couch. You oblige, sinking into the surprisingly firm cushions as she pours the tea with careful precision.

Her movements are methodical, each gesture deliberate, like she’s done this a thousand times before. When she hands you the mug, her fingers brush yours for just a second, and you’re hit again with that faint citrus-and-floral scent that clings to her.

“Thanks,” you say, wrapping your hands around the mug for warmth.

She sits down beside you, her posture as precise as everything else about her. For a moment, neither of you says anything, the silence filled with the soft clink of the teapot as she sets it back on the tray.

“So?” she asks, finally breaking the quiet. “What’s your verdict?”

“On what?”

“My place,” she says, gesturing around with one hand. “You’ve been staring at everything like a toddler in a museum.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “It’s… very you.”

Her brow furrows slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Organized. Clean. Intimidatingly perfect,” you say, taking a sip of tea to hide your smirk.

Chaewon narrows her eyes at you, but there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re lucky you’re tired, or I’d kick you out for that one.”

“You’d miss me,” you shoot back.

“Drink your tea,” she says, turning away, but you don’t miss the faint smile tugging at her lips.

The tea’s warmth seeps into your hands as you cradle the mug, its steam curling lazily into the air. Chaewon sits beside you, legs crossed, her own mug resting on her knee as she watches you with that quiet intensity she’s so good at. The conversation has drifted to safer topics—work drama, the weird quirks of your mutual coworkers—but the energy feels heavier now, like there’s something unspoken hanging between you.

You laugh at something she says about your boss’s obsession with motivational quotes, but it comes out thinner than you intended. Chaewon notices immediately, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly.

“You okay?” she asks, tilting her head.

You hesitate, your fingers tightening around the mug. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she says, her voice soft but firm. “You’ve got that weird energy again.”

You laugh nervously, setting the mug down on the coffee table. “Weird energy?”

“Yeah,” she says, leaning back against the couch. “Like you’re trying to calculate how to escape a room without making a scene.”

You rub the back of your neck, looking away. “It’s nothing. Just… tired, I guess.”

Chaewon isn’t buying it. She sets her mug down beside yours and shifts slightly, turning to face you more directly. “Spill. What’s going on?”

You glance at her, then quickly look away again, focusing on the pattern of the rug instead. “It’s stupid.”

“Good thing I’ve got time for stupid,” she says, her voice tinged with amusement. “Come on. Out with it.”

You sigh, your shoulders sagging. “It’s just… I don’t want to ruin things.”

“Ruin what?” she asks, her brow furrowing.

“This,” you say, gesturing vaguely between you. “Us. I’ve messed up before, you know? With other girls. I always say the wrong thing, or do the wrong thing, or just… end up being too much. And I don’t want to lose you. You’re one of the few people who actually seems to get me.”

The words hang in the air. You immediately regret saying them, your stomach twisting as you brace for whatever sharp, sarcastic response she’s bound to throw your way.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead, Chaewon shifts closer, her movements slow and deliberate. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she looks at you, her face unreadable. “You won’t ruin anything,” she says quietly, her voice steady. “I promise.”

You glance at her, startled by the softness in her tone. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do,” she counters, her gaze unwavering. “You think I don’t know who you are by now? All the awkwardness, the overthinking, the dumb jokes? That’s you. And I like you just the way you are.”

Her words make you feel something strange in your chest, leaving you momentarily speechless. Chaewon doesn’t look away, her expression open and sincere in a way that feels almost vulnerable.

“I’m serious,” she continues, her voice softer now. “You don’t have to try so hard with me. You’re not gonna scare me off or mess this up. So just… relax, okay?”

You swallow hard, your throat tight. “I don’t deserve you saying things like that.”

Her lips curve into a small, wry smile. “Probably not. But lucky for you, I’m generous.”

You laugh, the sound shaky but real, and she smiles wider at that. The tension in your chest eases a little, replaced by something warmer, something that feels suspiciously like hope.

Chaewon leans back against the couch, close enough now that her shoulder brushes yours. “Better?”

“Yeah,” you say, your voice quiet. “Thanks.”

She shrugs, reaching for her tea again. “Don’t mention it. Just don’t make me say all that sappy stuff twice.”

“Deal,” you reply, grinning despite yourself.

You pick up your mug again, staring into it like the tea holds the answers to all of life’s mysteries. Chaewon’s sitting close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off her, which is both comforting and mildly distracting. You decide to lean into it, though—into her, into this whole vibe.

“So,” you start, trying to sound casual, “what kind of guys are you into?”

Chaewon doesn’t even blink. She raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking in a way that tells you she knows exactly what you’re doing. “Seriously? That’s where you’re going with this?”

“What?” You shrug, feigning innocence. “I’m just curious. You never talk about that kind of stuff.”

“Because it’s none of your business,” she says, her voice dry, but she’s smirking now, her amusement clear.

“Come on,” you press, leaning a little closer. “Humor me. What’s your type?”

She tilts her head, pretending to think about it. “Hmm. Let’s see. I guess I like someone who’s kind of a mess, but in a lovable way.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you’re pretty sure your cheeks are starting to heat up. “A mess?”

“Yeah,” she says, nodding seriously. “Like, they’ve probably got zero game, but they’re sweet, and funny, and they care about people even when they shouldn’t.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Are you describing me right now?”

She doesn’t answer directly, just sips her tea with an exaggerated innocence that makes you want to throw a pillow at her.

“Okay, fine,” you say, leaning back against the couch and crossing your arms. “What else?”

“Hmm,” she hums, dragging it out on purpose. “Definitely someone who’s way too into nerdy stuff. Like, they could probably write an entire essay on the politics of some random video game world.”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh my god.”

“And they’ve got to be a little awkward,” she continues, her smirk growing. “Like, they think they’re flirting right now, but they’re just embarrassing themselves.”

“Okay, I get it!” you cut her off, your voice muffled by your hands.

Chaewon laughs, the sound bright and unapologetic. She reaches over, nudging your shoulder. “What? You asked.”

“Yeah, and I regret it,” you mutter, peeking at her through your fingers. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” she says, looking far too pleased with herself.

There’s a pause as you both settle back into the couch, the playful tension between you easing into something quieter. Then Chaewon stretches, rolling her neck like she’s trying to work out a kink.

“Ugh,” she groans, rubbing the back of her neck. “I think I’ve been sitting at my desk too long this week.”

You glance at her, raising an eyebrow. “What, you need a massage or something?”

“Actually, yeah,” she says, turning to look at you with an expression that’s far too smug. “Since you’re offering.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Wait, I wasn’t—”

“Too late. Offer accepted,” she interrupts, shifting to sit sideways on the couch and giving you her back.

You hesitate for a second, then sigh, setting your mug aside. “Fine. But if you complain, I’m stopping.”

“Just shut up and get to it,” she says, tossing a glance over her shoulder.

You roll your eyes but move closer, placing your hands lightly on her shoulders. Her body tenses slightly under your touch at first, but as you start to knead gently, her posture softens.

“Not bad,” she murmurs, tilting her head forward to give you better access.

“Not bad?” you echo, your fingers working into the knots in her shoulders. “I’ll have you know, I give amazing massages.”

“Sure you do,” she says, her voice slightly muffled.

You work silently for a bit, your hands moving with more confidence as you get into a rhythm. It’s oddly intimate, this moment between you, and you’re not sure whether to be grateful or terrified by how comfortable it feels.

Your hands move slowly, working into the tension in Chaewon’s shoulders, but the longer you touch her, the harder it is to focus. She feels warm under your hands, soft in all the right places, and the faint scent of her perfume is messing with your head in a way you’re not sure you’re ready to deal with.

Chaewon lets out a quiet sigh, tilting her head to the side to give you better access. Her short hair falls away from her neck, exposing smooth, pale skin that catches the dim light just right. You pause for half a second, your hands hovering, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you are to her.

“You okay back there?” she asks, glancing at you over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you mutter, quickly resuming the massage. “Just… trying to find the knot.”

Her lips twitch like she doesn’t entirely believe you, but she doesn’t call you out on it. Instead, she leans forward a bit, giving you even more space to work. “Well, don’t chicken out. I could really use this.”

Your hands move lower, grazing the tops of her shoulder blades, and you feel her shiver slightly under your touch. It’s subtle, but it’s enough to send your thoughts spiraling. Suddenly, the innocent, friendly massage doesn’t feel so innocent anymore.

Chaewon shifts slightly, her back arching just enough to make you notice, and you swallow hard, your fingers faltering for just a second. She doesn’t say anything, but the air between you feels thicker now, charged with something you’re not sure either of you expected.

You clear your throat, trying to focus. “You’ve got a lot of tension here,” you say, your voice coming out lower than you intended.

“Yeah?” she murmurs, her tone almost teasing. “Guess you’d better keep going.”

You can’t help it; your eyes drift down her back, tracing the curve of her spine under her blouse. Your hands move on their own, pressing into the muscles just below her shoulders, but all you can think about is how much you want to touch more. Explore more.

She tilts her head back slightly, her neck exposed, and you’ve never seen her look more beautiful. It’s not just the way her body reacts under your hands—it’s the way she’s completely at ease, trusting you in a way that feels almost vulnerable.

“You’re good at this,” she says, her voice softer now, almost breathy.

“Yeah?” you say, trying to keep the nervous edge out of your voice. “Maybe I missed my calling.”

She chuckles, the sound low and warm, and something about it makes your pulse pick up. “Don’t get cocky.”

Your hands move lower again, brushing against the edge of her lower back, and she shifts under your touch, her breath hitching just slightly. It’s enough to make your resolve start to crumble.

You want her—have wanted her for longer than you’re willing to admit—but now, with her so close, so warm, so utterly Chaewon, it feels impossible to ignore. Every time your hands move, every time she sighs or shifts, it pulls you deeper into something you don’t think you can back out of.

But you hesitate, your hands lingering on her back, unsure of how to bridge the gap between what’s happening and what you want to happen.

Your hands pause for just a moment when Chaewon shifts again, her body leaning slightly forward. Her shoulders tense briefly before relaxing, and then, in a voice quieter than you’ve ever heard from her, she says, “You can go lower… if you want.”

Time stops.

You’re not even sure you heard her right at first. Your brain scrambles to process the words, but your hands are already moving, sliding lower down her back, fingertips brushing over the curve of her waist. You swallow hard, every nerve in your body buzzing.

Her blouse is soft, thin enough that you can feel the heat of her skin beneath it. Your hands press into her, kneading gently, and she lets out a quiet sigh that shoots straight through you.

“That’s… nice,” she murmurs, her head tilting slightly forward.

You chuckle nervously, trying to play it cool even though your heart feels like it’s about to break through your ribs. “Yeah? I’ve got skills.”

She lets out a soft laugh, the sound breathy, and shifts again as your hands move down to her lower back, squeezing lightly. Her body reacts under your touch—a slight arch of her back, a shiver that you feel more than see—and it’s driving you insane.

“Seriously,” she says, her voice muffled as she rests her arms on her knees. “You’re too good at this.”

“You’re welcome,” you tease, your voice low, though you’re barely holding it together.

Her sighs grow softer, more frequent, and her breathing starts to change, deepening slightly. You’re not sure what’s happening anymore, but you don’t care. You’re touching her, she’s letting you, and it feels like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you.

Then she mumbles something, so quiet you almost miss it.

“What?” you ask, leaning in instinctively, your ear close to her lips. “What did you say?”

She doesn’t look at you, doesn’t move. For a moment, you think she won’t answer, but then, in a voice so small it barely feels like her, she murmurs, “Kiss me.”

Oh.

Your breath catches. You pull back slightly, just enough to look at her, but she’s still staring down at her knees, her face half-hidden by the angle.

“Chaewon,” you say softly, her name catching in your throat.

She doesn’t respond, doesn’t look up, but her body shifts toward you, and that’s all the confirmation you need.

You lean in slowly, your lips brushing against the curve of her neck. Her skin is warm and soft, and she smells so good it makes your head spin. You start with a gentle kiss, hesitant, testing, but when she doesn’t pull away—when she lets out the quietest, softest sigh—you lose what little restraint you had left.

Your lips press more firmly against her neck, trailing downward, tasting her skin. Her body tilts toward you, her breathing uneven now, and one of her hands comes up to rest lightly on your arm, her fingers curling against your sleeve.

“God,” you murmur against her skin, your voice barely audible.

She doesn’t say anything, but the way she shifts closer, the way her fingers tighten on your arm, tells you everything you need to know.

Your lips trail up from her neck, slow and deliberate, savoring the warmth of her skin and the way she tilts her head to give you more access. Each kiss pulls a soft sigh from her, barely audible, but enough to set your blood on fire. You can feel her pulse quicken beneath your lips, her breathing uneven as you move closer to her jawline.

And then, without really thinking, you shift your angle and capture her lips.

She turns slightly, just enough to meet you halfway, and the kiss is soft at first—tentative, testing. The faint taste of tea lingers on her lips, mixing with a trace of whiskey, and it’s so much better than you expected. You kiss her deeper, and she responds, her lips parting slightly as the kiss grows more insistent.

You’re still behind her, one arm slipping around her waist to pull her closer as your other hand trails up her side. Her body melts into yours, her back pressing against your chest, and you can feel the subtle tremor running through her as your lips move together.

Her blouse is in your way. It’s driving you crazy.

Your hands start to move without thinking, sliding down her front and finding the buttons of her blouse. The fabric is soft, just like her, and your fingers fumble slightly, but you manage to undo the first button, then the second, all while keeping your lips locked with hers.

Chaewon lets out a quiet gasp as your hand brushes against her bare skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine. Her hand reaches up, tangling in your hair, pulling you closer as her other hand grips your arm, her nails digging in lightly.

“Are you…” she starts to whisper, but her words are lost in a gasp when you undo another button, your hand slipping inside her blouse to rest against her stomach.

She feels so warm under your touch, her body soft and perfect, and you can’t help but move your hand upward, brushing the edge of her bra. Her head falls back against your shoulder, her breathing heavy, and you take the opportunity to kiss her neck again, trailing upward to her ear.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Chaewon freezes for just a second, like she’s caught off guard, but then she turns her head slightly, meeting your lips again in a kiss that’s more desperate than the first. Her hands pull you closer, her body pressing against yours as her blouse falls open, the fabric slipping from her shoulders.

You barely notice the sound of her breath hitching, too focused on the way her skin feels under your hands, the way her lips taste like tea and warmth and Chaewon.

The blouse clings stubbornly to Chaewon’s waist, but you’ve had enough of it. She seems to share the same feeling, raising her arms without a word, your fingers find the fabric, and with one smooth, determined motion, you slide it up and over her head, tossing it behind you without a glance. Now she’s facing you, her skin flushed, her breathing shallow, and for a moment, all you can do is stare.

Her tiny waist curves perfectly into her hips, her perky breasts framed by a simple black lace bra that somehow makes her even more devastatingly beautiful. Chaewon shifts slightly under your gaze, her cheeks turning pink, but she doesn’t look away. Instead, she smirks faintly, like she knows exactly what’s going through your head.

“You done staring, or should I charge you for the show?” she teases, her voice light but tinged with nervousness.

You grin, your heart pounding. “Sorry, just… wow. You’re gorgeous, Chaewon.”

Her smirk falters, her lips parting slightly, and for a moment, she looks almost shy. But then she steps closer, fingers already moving toward the buttons of your blouse. “Okay, your turn. Fair’s fair.”

She starts unbuttoning slowly, each flick of her fingers deliberate, grazing your skin just enough to send shivers down your spine. Once the last button is undone, she slides the blouse off your shoulders, taking off one sleeve at a time before tossing it somewhere behind her like it doesn’t matter.

Her hand comes up, hesitating for a moment before she places it on your chest, her fingers trailing lightly over your skin. “I’ve imagined this,” she says quietly.

You swallow hard, your breath catching at the honesty in her words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs, her eyes meeting yours. “More than I’d like to admit.”

Her hand continues its slow exploration, her touch sending shivers down your spine. You feel completely exposed, but not in a bad way. There’s something about the way she’s looking at you—like she’s seeing you, all of you, and she likes what she sees.

Unable to resist any longer, you reach for her, pulling her close and guiding her back to the couch. She lets you, her body soft and pliant under your hands as you lower her down onto the cushions.

Her hair fans out against the dark fabric, and her lips curve into a small, teasing smile as you settle on top of her, your weight braced on your elbows. “Comfy?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Very,” you reply, grinning down at her. “How about you?”

“I’ll let you know,” she says, her hands sliding up your back to pull you closer.

You kiss her again, slow and deep, savoring the way her body responds beneath you. Her fingers dig into your shoulders, her legs shifting to tangle with yours, and the soft sounds she makes between kisses are enough to drive you insane.

Chaewon’s lips are addictive. Every time you think you’ve had your fill, she moves just right, sighs into your mouth, or tilts her head to let you deepen the kiss. It’s impossible to stop, and honestly, you don’t want to.

At some point, she breaks the kiss, panting lightly, her eyes half-lidded as she smirks. “Weren’t you exhausted ten minutes ago?”

You grin, brushing your thumb against her cheek. “Not anymore. Maybe it’s the tea.”

She arches an eyebrow. “The tea?”

“Or maybe it’s you,” you admit, leaning down to kiss her again, softer this time but no less intense.

She lets out a quiet laugh against your lips but doesn’t pull away. Her hands trail down your back, her nails grazing your skin lightly enough to make you shiver. You shift slightly, pressing your lips to her jaw, then down to her neck. She tilts her head automatically, giving you more room to work, but when your mouth latches onto the delicate skin below her ear, she gasps.

“Hey,” she murmurs, her voice breathy. “You’re gonna leave marks.”

You pause, your lips hovering over her neck. “Do you want me to stop?”

There’s a beat of silence where she doesn’t answer, just stares at you, her cheeks flushed and her breathing uneven. Then, almost too quietly, she whispers, “No.”

You grin against her skin, nipping lightly at the same spot before sucking gently, drawing a soft moan from her. Your hand moves to her waist, holding her in place as your mouth continues its path along her neck, alternating between kisses and playful bites.

Chaewon’s fingers thread through your hair, tugging slightly as she arches into you. “You’re such a nerd,” she mutters, though her tone lacks any real bite.

“And yet,” you reply, moving back up to kiss her mouth, “you’re here.”

She laughs, muffled by your lips, and then gasps softly as you bite her bottom lip, tugging just enough to make her squirm. Her hands tighten on your shoulders, and her legs shift, tangling further with yours as your kiss deepens.

Your hands slide up her back, finding the strap of her bra. The clasp feels impossibly tiny beneath your fingers, but you work at it, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing as her body presses closer to yours.

“Having trouble?” she teases, her lips brushing against yours.

“Shut up,” you murmur, grinning as you finally manage to unhook it.

Your hands work the clasp on Chaewon’s bra, finally unhooking it with a small triumph you try to play cool. The straps slide off her shoulders, and just as you’re about to toss it aside, she holds it against her chest, her fingers gripping the fabric tightly.

“Wait,” she says, her voice soft, almost hesitant.

You freeze, leaning back slightly to meet her gaze. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips slightly swollen from your kisses, but there’s a different kind of vulnerability in her eyes now.

“You’re not just doing this because you’re… you know, hurting, right?” she asks quietly. “I don’t want to be just some kind of band-aid for you.”

For a moment, all the heat between you cools just enough for you to realize how much weight she’s carrying in this moment, how much she’s letting herself be exposed.

“Chaewon,” you say, trying to lighten the mood a little, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was already planning the wedding.”

Her eyes widen for a split second before she laughs, a short, startled sound that breaks the tension just enough. “You’re such an idiot,” she mutters, shaking her head.

“Yeah,” you admit, smiling softly. “But seriously…” You reach up, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re not a band-aid. You’re… special. You’ve always been special, and I’m sorry it took me this long to see it.”

Her breath hitches, her eyes searching yours for something you hope she finds. Then, with a faint smirk, she murmurs, “Damn right I’m special.”

You chuckle, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Yeah, you are. And I’m lucky. You’re… kind of the best thing in my life right now, you know that?”

Chaewon doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with an expression that’s so raw and open it makes your chest ache. Then, slowly, she lets the bra slip from her hands, her arms falling to her sides as she finally lets you see her.

Her perky breasts are small but perfect, her pale skin flushed and warm. You take a moment to just look at her, taking her in, and the way she shifts slightly under your gaze, her lips parting, makes your breath catch.

“You’re gorgeous,” you murmur, your voice low and reverent.

She huffs, clearly trying to deflect. “You’ve said that already.”

“Yeah, well, it’s true.”

Her eyes meet yours again, and this time, there’s no hesitation, no barriers.

Your lips find hers, and this time the kiss is slower, deeper, your body pressing down against hers as you settle into the couch. Her arms wrap around your neck, pulling you closer, her fingers tangling in your hair as if she’s trying to anchor herself.

Your hand moves almost instinctively, sliding from her waist up to her chest. When your palm finally covers her breast, you pause for just a moment, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your hand, the softness yielding perfectly to your touch.

Chaewon lets out a quiet, breathy sound against your lips, her back arching slightly into your touch. It’s all the encouragement you need. Your fingers squeeze gently, testing, and her response—a soft moan that she tries to muffle—sends heat rushing through you.

You break the kiss, trailing your lips down her jaw, her neck, leaving small, open-mouthed kisses along the way. She tilts her head back, her breathing uneven, her fingers tightening in your hair as your mouth makes its way lower.

When your lips reach her collarbone, you pause to glance up at her, your eyes meeting hers. Her cheeks are flushed, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath, and there’s something so intoxicating about the way she’s looking at you—trusting, wanting.

You kiss the top of her breast first, softly, reverently, before moving lower. Your hand slides away, making room for your mouth as you finally reach her nipple.

It’s small and perfectly pink, the areola slightly darker and tight against the cool air of the room. You pause, your lips hovering just above her skin, and then you take her nipple into your mouth, sucking gently.

Chaewon gasps, her body jolting slightly beneath you, her hands gripping your shoulders now. “God,” she breathes, her voice trembling.

You swirl your tongue around the hardened bud, teasing, tasting, savoring the way she reacts—her quiet whimpers, the way her fingers dig into your skin. You suck a little harder, pulling her nipple further into your mouth, and she arches her back, pressing herself closer to you.

When you move to the other breast, you take your time, kissing your way across her chest, letting your lips linger on her skin. Her other nipple is just as perfect, already taut with anticipation when your tongue flicks over it for the first time.

Her response is immediate—a soft moan that makes your chest tighten, your name falling from her lips like a prayer. You suck gently, then harder, alternating with flicks of your tongue that make her shiver beneath you.

You take a moment to glance up again, her face flushed and her eyes half-closed as she watches you, her lips parted, her breathing uneven. There’s something about the way she looks right now—completely undone, completely yours—that makes you feel like you’re falling and never want to stop.

You return to her breasts, your mouth working over her soft skin as if you’ve got all the time in the world. Each kiss, each lick, each gentle nip earns you another sigh, another soft gasp that makes your pulse race. Her nipples are sensitive under your tongue, tightening further with every flick and suck, and you savor the way her body responds—how she arches toward you, her hands restless against your back, her quiet sounds growing needier.

Eventually, you pull away, leaving her flushed and breathing hard, her chest rising and falling beneath you. You kiss your way back up to her collarbone, her neck, and finally her lips, her taste familiar now but still somehow electrifying.

You pause for a moment, your forehead resting against hers as you catch your breath. “Chaewon,” you murmur, your voice low and a little rough. “Do you… want to move to the bed?”

She looks at you, her dark eyes hazy with want but still sharp enough to catch you off guard. For a second, she just stares, like she’s weighing the moment, before finally whispering, “Yeah.”

Her answer is simple, but it’s all you need. Without hesitating, you slip your arms around her, lifting her from the couch with surprising ease. She gasps softly at the sudden movement, her hands automatically gripping your shoulders for balance, but she’s smiling, her lips curving into a rare, unguarded grin.

“You didn’t have to carry me,” she says, her voice teasing but breathy as you press a kiss to her cheek.

“I wanted to,” you reply, grinning against her skin as you kiss your way down to her neck.

She chuckles, the sound soft and breathless, and hooks an arm around your neck, guiding you toward the hallway. You follow her lead, your lips never leaving her skin as you walk. You kiss her jaw, her ear, her throat, savoring every quiet sigh and shiver as her fingers tangle in your hair.

When you reach her bedroom, you fumble briefly but manage to switch on the light without releasing Chaewon from your grasp. A soft, amber glow floods the room, painting her delicate features in hues of warmth. You lower her onto the bed gently, taking a step back to admire the sight in front of you.

Chaewon lies there, half-naked and impossibly beautiful, her flushed skin glowing in the soft light. Her blouse is gone, her bra discarded, and her chest rises and falls with each shallow breath. Her pants are still on, but the way they cling to her hips and thighs makes your throat tighten.

You swallow hard, stepping closer as she watches you, her lips curved into a small, almost shy smile. Slowly, you reach for the waistband of her pants, your fingers brushing against her skin as you undo the button.

“You okay?” you ask, glancing up at her.

She nods, her gaze steady but warm. “Yeah. Keep going.”

You slide the zipper down, the sound loud in the quiet room, and begin to ease the fabric down her hips. The process is slower than you expect, your hands trembling slightly as you reveal inch after inch of smooth, pale skin.

And then her panties come into view.

They’re simple but beautiful, black lace with intricate floral patterns that contrast perfectly against her soft skin. The delicate fabric sits low on her hips, hugging her in a way that leaves little to the imagination. The edges are trimmed with a subtle scalloped design, the lace slightly sheer, hinting at the curves beneath without fully revealing them.

For a moment, you just stare, your breath catching as your hands linger on her hips. You never imagined you’d find yourself here—literally undressing your coworker, who you’ve argued with over staplers and coffee orders—but here you are, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re staring again,” Chaewon says, her voice tinged with humor but softer than usual.

“I think you better get used to it.” you reply, your voice low as you run your fingers lightly over the waistband of her panties.

She huffs, her cheeks turning pink, but she doesn’t look away. “Just don’t make it weird.”

You chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss to her stomach, just above the lace. “Too late.”

As your fingers trail along the waistband of Chaewon’s panties, her breathing hitches, her body shifting slightly beneath your touch. The delicate lace is impossibly soft under your fingertips, a fragile barrier that feels both tantalizing and maddening. Slowly, you slide your fingers under the fabric, your knuckles brushing against her skin as you begin to ease the panties down.

She lifts her hips just enough to help you, her legs bending and turning slightly as you pull the lace down her thighs, over her knees, and finally off her feet. The room feels impossibly quiet, every rustle of fabric and soft exhale amplified in the charged air between you.

When you glance back up, she’s already spreading her legs, the invitation clear. Your breath catches as you take her in fully for the first time.

Her pussy is beautiful, her lips soft and slightly swollen, glistening faintly in the low light of the room. The pink of her inner folds is just visible, a delicate contrast against the smooth skin of her thighs. She’s bare, her skin perfect and inviting, the sight enough to make your mouth water.

You lean down slowly, your lips trailing kisses along the inside of her thigh. Her skin is warm beneath your mouth, impossibly soft, and she lets out a quiet, shaky sigh as your kisses move higher. Her scent hits you then—subtle, musky, intoxicating. It’s uniquely her, a mix of clean and raw and heady, and it pulls you in like nothing else.

Your hands rest on her thighs, holding them gently as you kiss closer to her center. When your lips finally brush against her, she gasps softly, her body tensing for a moment before relaxing into the touch. You start slow, your tongue flicking lightly over her folds, tasting her for the first time.

She’s warm, slick, and utterly addictive, her taste filling your senses as you suck gently on her clit. Her body jerks slightly beneath you, her thighs trembling against your hands as she moans quietly, her voice soft and breathy.

“God,” she murmurs, her fingers gripping the sheets tightly as her hips shift toward you.

You smile against her, your tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles, savoring every sound she makes, every small shiver of her body. Her scent grows stronger as you continue, her arousal unmistakable, and it’s everything you can do to keep your movements controlled, purposeful, to draw this out as long as you can.

Chaewon’s hands find your hair, her fingers tangling in it as she pulls you closer, her breaths coming quicker now. Her quiet gasps and soft moans are music to your ears, each one driving you further, pushing you to explore every inch of her with your mouth.

Your lips stay locked onto her, tongue flicking and teasing, savoring the way she’s opening up for you, literally and figuratively. Chaewon’s taste is rich and intoxicating, a mix of salt and sweet that you could drown in and never come up for air. As you suck gently on her clit, your tongue presses just enough to send a ripple through her body, and her moan—low, breathy, needy—reverberates straight through you.

“Fuck,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible but dripping with desperation. “That feels… so good.”

You hum against her, the vibration making her legs tremble. “You taste so fucking amazing,” you mutter between licks, your lips brushing against her slick folds as you speak. “Could do this all night.”

She gasps, her thighs tightening around your head for a moment before relaxing again. “You’re such a fucking nerd,” she says, trying to sound teasing but failing miserably as her voice cracks into a moan.

“And you’re so fucking wet,” you shoot back, your fingers sliding along her folds to prove your point. The slickness coats your fingertips instantly, and you bring them to your mouth for a quick taste, groaning softly at the sheer decadence of it. “Jesus, Chaewon… you’re delicious.”

Her cheeks flush even darker, her hips jerking slightly as you lean back in, your tongue diving between her folds to lap up every bit of her arousal. She’s wetter now, her juices pooling at her entrance, and you don’t waste a second, licking her clean like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

“God, yes,” she whimpers, her hands clutching at your hair as her back arches off the bed. “Don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” you reply, grinning against her before wrapping your lips around her clit again, sucking it gently but firmly.

Her response is immediate—a sharp intake of breath, her body tightening as if she’s trying to hold herself together but failing miserably. “Fuck… oh, fuck,” she moans, her hips grinding against your mouth, chasing the pressure.

You slide a hand up her thigh, your thumb teasing the edge of her entrance as your tongue works her clit. “You like that?” you ask, your voice muffled by her heat.

“Y-yeah,” she stammers, her head falling back against the pillow. “Don’t stop—don’t fucking stop.”

Her words spur you on, your movements growing bolder, more confident. You suck harder, alternating with quick flicks of your tongue, and she’s practically trembling now, her body taut like a bowstring.

“You’re so fucking hot like this,” you murmur, your fingers dipping just slightly inside her, feeling how wet and warm she is, how her body clenches around the slightest touch. “Can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner.”

“Shut up,” she gasps, her voice ragged as her hips buck against you. “Just—fuck—keep going.”

You oblige, your tongue and fingers working in perfect tandem to drive her higher, her moans spilling out unfiltered now. Chaewon’s normally sharp, snarky voice is reduced to breathless gasps and broken curses, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

Your tongue circles Chaewon’s clit with deliberate slowness, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves with just enough pressure to make her squirm. Your fingers slide deeper inside her, curling slightly to find that sweet spot, the one that makes her hips jerk involuntarily. She’s soaking wet now, her slick heat coating your fingers, making every movement easier, smoother.

“Fuck,” she moans, her voice breaking as her legs spread wider, inviting you to take everything she’s offering. Her hands are still tangled in your hair, tugging, pulling, as if she’s trying to ground herself while her body writhes under your touch.

You lift your head slightly, your lips brushing against her inner thigh as you speak. “Look at you,” you murmur, your voice low and rough. “So fucking wet for me. You’re dripping, Chaewon. You like this, huh?”

Her response is a strangled moan, her back arching off the bed as you press your thumb against her clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. “Y-yeah,” she gasps, her voice trembling. “I fucking love it.”

You smirk, leaning back down to suck her clit into your mouth, your tongue flicking over it in quick, teasing motions. “Good,” you say, your voice muffled by her. “Because I’m not stopping until you’re shaking.”

She whimpers at that, her hands tightening in your hair as her thighs clamp briefly around your head. “God, you’re such a fucking tease,” she mutters, though the breathless laugh that follows makes it clear she doesn’t mean it.

You grin, your fingers thrusting deeper as you suck harder, pulling a broken cry from her lips. “You love it,” you reply, your tongue swirling around her clit before flicking it sharply.

“Fuck—yes,” she moans, her voice growing louder now, more desperate. Her hips grind against your mouth, chasing the friction, and you can feel her getting closer, her body tightening around your fingers with each thrust.

“God, Chaewon,” you murmur between licks, your lips brushing against her slick folds. “You’re so fucking needy. You’re dripping all over me, baby. Can’t get enough, huh?”

“Shut up,” she gasps, though her moans tell you otherwise. Her head falls back against the pillow, her chest heaving as her nails rake lightly against your scalp. “Just… just keep going.”

You oblige, your tongue and fingers working in perfect rhythm now, pushing her higher, closer to the edge. Her clit is swollen and sensitive under your tongue, every flick and suck pulling another moan, another gasp, another curse from her lips.

“Come on, Chaewon,” you murmur, your voice low and teasing. “Let go for me. I want to feel you come, baby. I want to taste you.”

Her only response is a sharp cry, her body arching off the bed as she clenches around your fingers, her thighs trembling. She’s so close now, her moans turning into desperate whimpers, her hips grinding against your face with reckless abandon.

“Fuck—don’t stop,” she pleads, her voice breaking. “Please, don’t fucking stop.”

You don’t.

Your tongue drags over her clit with precision now, relentless and firm, while your fingers pump into her soaked pussy, curling perfectly against that sensitive spot deep inside her. Chaewon’s breaths are shallow, gasping, her chest heaving with every movement. The taste of her, that musky, sweet cream she’s releasing for you, coats your tongue, addictive and intoxicating.

Her thighs tremble on either side of your head, twitching every time you flick your tongue just right. She’s not quiet anymore—she’s a beautiful, messy symphony of moans and gasps, her voice cracking into broken sentences.

“Fuck—oh god—don’t—don’t stop—” she babbles, her words tumbling out without control. Her hips buck wildly, her hands gripping the sheets so tight her knuckles are white. “It’s—it’s so good—fuck—so fucking—”

You glance up for just a second, your eyes locking onto her flushed face. Her head is thrown back, her lips parted, and her hair sticks to her damp forehead. She’s beautiful, absolutely wrecked, and knowing you’re the reason she’s like this makes your blood pound in your ears.

“You’re so fucking hot like this,” you murmur, your voice low and muffled against her pussy. “Can feel how close you are, baby. You gonna come for me?”

“Y-yeah,” she gasps, her thighs twitching against your head as her body trembles. “Fuck—I’m so—oh god, I can’t—”

“You can,” you insist, sucking her clit hard and thrusting your fingers deeper, curling them perfectly. “Come for me, Chaewon. I want to feel it. Want to taste every fucking drop.”

Her entire body goes taut, her back arching sharply as a scream rips from her throat. “FUCK—I’m—oh, oh, oh—” Her thighs snap shut around your head, trapping you there as her pussy clenches hard around your fingers, waves of wet heat flooding against your hand and tongue.

You don’t stop. You keep sucking her clit, even as her body shakes uncontrollably, even as her legs try to squeeze you out. She’s soaking now, her juices dripping down your fingers, her moans turning into breathless whimpers as she rides out the intensity of her orgasm.

“Too—too much—fuck—” she cries, her voice trembling, her hips jerking away from your mouth even as her legs keep you pinned.

You finally ease up, pressing soft, teasing kisses to her clit as her body twitches beneath you. Her thighs slowly loosen their grip, and you pull back just enough to watch her, your lips and chin wet with her arousal.

Chaewon’s chest heaves, her face flushed and glowing as she tries to catch her breath. Her eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused, and when she meets your gaze, her lips curve into a weak, satisfied smile.

You trail kisses up her trembling body, taking your time as you savor every inch of Chaewon’s soft, warm skin. Her chest rises and falls beneath you, still heaving from her orgasm, and you pause to press a kiss to her collarbone, then her neck, before finally reaching her lips.

She meets you halfway, her kiss slow but insistent, her fingers threading into your hair to hold you close. There’s something almost intoxicating about the way her lips taste now, mingled with the faint, musky tang of her own release.

When you finally pull back, her cheeks are flushed, and her lips curl into a teasing smirk. “You’re surprisingly good at that,” she says, her voice still breathless but laced with humor. “For a nerd.”

You laugh, the sound low and warm, leaning down to brush your nose against hers. “Even nerds have their talents.”

She quirks an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Oh? And what other talents do you have, exactly?”

Before you can answer, her hand slides down between your bodies, pressing against the hard length of your cock through your pants. The pressure makes you inhale sharply, your hips jerking slightly as her fingers curl around you.

“Because I’m curious,” she continues, her tone dripping with mock innocence as her thumb rubs slow circles over the fabric.

You groan softly, dropping your forehead against hers. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Chaewon.”

“Am I?” she asks, her voice light and teasing, though her grip tightens just enough to make your breath hitch.

You lift your head to meet her gaze, your eyes dark with intent. “Guess I’ll have to show you.”

Her eyes widen slightly as you reach down, your hands brushing against hers as you unbutton your pants. The metallic click of the zipper echoes in the quiet room, and you can feel the way her breathing quickens, her body shifting beneath you as her curiosity gives way to anticipation.

You push yourself up slightly, Chaewon’s hands falling away as you shift to sit on your knees. Her gaze follows you, her chest still rising and falling, her lips parted slightly as she watches you reach for your waistband.

Slowly, deliberately, you push your pants down your hips, the fabric sliding down your legs until they’re off completely. Then comes your underwear. Her eyes don’t leave you for a second, dark and intent, and when you finally free yourself, her lips part in a soft gasp.

She’s staring now, her cheeks flushed, her pupils blown wide. “Holy shit,” she murmurs.

You smirk, crawling back over her until you’re close enough to kiss. “Like what you see?”

Chaewon huffs out a breathy laugh, her hand reaching down to wrap around your cock. Her grip is warm, her fingers soft but firm as she strokes you slowly, making your hips jerk slightly. “Didn’t expect you to be… this big,” she says, her tone teasing but tinged with genuine surprise.

“Guess nerds have surprises too,” you manage, though your voice comes out rough as her thumb brushes over your tip.

She laughs again, the sound low and sinful, before pulling you down into another kiss. Her mouth is warm and insistent against yours, her tongue slipping past your lips as her hand keeps working you, slow and deliberate. You groan into her mouth, your hips moving involuntarily into her touch.

When you finally pull away, panting slightly, you rest your forehead against hers. “Chaewon,” you murmur, your voice low. “What about a condom?”

Her eyes flick up to yours, her gaze steady and full of intent. “Don’t need it,” she says softly, her legs shifting to wrap loosely around your hips.

“Are you sure?” you ask, your cock brushing against her thigh as you shift slightly.

“I’m sure,” she says, her voice firmer now. Her hands move to your shoulders, pulling you closer as she tilts her head up to kiss you briefly. “I’ve been waiting for this. For you.”

Her words make something in your chest tighten, and you nod, swallowing hard as you position yourself between her legs.

You reach down, guiding your cock to her wet entrance, teasing her folds with your tip. The heat of her, the way her slickness coats you immediately, sends a shiver down your spine. You rub yourself against her slowly, deliberately, savoring the way her hips jerk and her breath catches.

“Fuck,” she mutters, her hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “You’re such a tease.”

You grin, leaning down to kiss her neck as you keep teasing her, your cock sliding against her clit. “Just want to make sure you’re ready, baby.”

“I’ve been ready,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. Her hands slide down your back, her nails digging in lightly as she arches toward you. “I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this. For you. Totally for you.”

Her words hit you like a spark, and you can’t hold back anymore. You line yourself up with her entrance, pressing forward just enough to feel her warmth envelop you. Her body tenses beneath you, her breath hitching as you begin to push inside, slow and deliberate, savoring every second.

You sink into her inch by inch, her wet pussy pulling you in so perfectly it feels like nothing else has ever mattered. Chaewon gasps beneath you, her hands flying to your back, nails biting into your skin as her legs tighten around your hips.

“Fuck,” she breathes, her voice trembling, almost desperate. “You feel so—God, you’re so fucking—”

“Perfect?” you finish for her, grinning against her neck as you push deeper.

“Shut up—” she gasps, her nails dragging down your back as you bottom out, your hips flush against hers. “You’re so fucking cocky—”

“Yeah, and you’re so fucking tight,” you growl, pulling back just enough before thrusting back in, slow and deep, making her gasp sharply.

Her thighs clamp around you, her heels digging into your lower back as if she’s trying to keep you buried inside her. “Don’t stop—don’t fucking stop,” she babbles, her voice breaking with every word. “I’ve wanted this—so fucking long—”

“Yeah?” you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear as you start moving, setting a steady rhythm that has her clinging to you like a lifeline. “You’ve been thinking about me, baby? Thinking about me fucking you like this?”

“Fuck—yes,” she moans, her back arching as her hips lift to meet your thrusts. “Every time you—stole my stapler—every time you—looked at me like that—”

You laugh breathlessly, your mouth trailing down her neck to her collarbone. “Possessive, huh? Didn’t know you were so obsessed with me, Chaewon.”

“Shut up—” she says again, but the way her nails rake down your back and the way she moans your name tells you exactly how much she loves this.

Her hands find your face, pulling you into a desperate, messy kiss that’s all teeth and tongue, her breath hot against your mouth. “You’re mine,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice trembling but firm. “You hear me? Mine—don’t you fucking forget it—”

“Yours,” you rasp, your thrusts growing harder, deeper, each one pulling a broken cry from her lips. “All fucking yours, Chaewon—fuck—you feel so good, baby—so fucking perfect—”

“Don’t stop—don’t you dare stop—” she moans, her voice rising, her body tightening around you like she’s trying to pull you even deeper. “I love this—I love you—God, you’re mine—mine—mine—”

Her words, the way she’s gasping and clinging to you, sends you spiraling. You bury your face in her neck, your thrusts becoming rougher, more erratic as you chase the high building between you. Her moans turn into cries, her voice breaking with every thrust as her body arches against yours.

“Fuck—fuck—oh my God—” she cries, her voice high and trembling as she comes, her pussy clenching hard around you.

You keep moving, pushing her through it, her cries turning into breathless whimpers as her body shakes beneath you. She clings to you like she never wants to let go, her lips brushing against your neck as she murmurs your name over and over again, a mantra that makes your chest ache with something deeper than just lust.

You thrust into her again, deep and deliberate, feeling the way Chaewon’s pussy tightens around you with every movement. She gasps, her head falling back against the pillows.

“Fuck—” she breathes, her voice trembling as you pick up your pace, your hips slamming against hers in a rhythm that has her thighs quivering around you. “You’re so—God, you’re so deep—”

“You love it, don’t you?” you growl, leaning down to nip at her neck, your teeth grazing her skin. “Love how I fill you up. You’re so fucking tight, Chaewon. Feels like you were made for me.”

Her response is a strangled moan, her legs wrapping tighter around your hips as her hands grip your back. “Don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop—”

“I wasn’t planning to,” you reply, grinning against her collarbone as you thrust harder, your cock sliding in and out of her slick heat. “You’re too fucking good, baby. Can’t get enough of you.”

Chaewon’s nails dig into your back, her voice breaking into a series of gasps and half-formed words. “Fuck—yes—more—just like that—”

You shift slightly, angling your hips to hit that spot deep inside her, and her reaction is immediate. She cries out, her body arching off the bed as her pussy clenches around you.

“Right there?” you murmur, your voice low and teasing as you grind into her, drawing another sharp gasp from her lips.

“God—yes—right there—” she stammers, her hands sliding down to grip your ass, pulling you even closer. “Fuck—you’re so good—so fucking good—”

You speed up, your thrusts growing rougher, more erratic, and her cries grow louder, more desperate. She’s a mess beneath you now, her hair sticking to her damp forehead, her chest heaving as she struggles to catch her breath.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear. “All mine. Say it, Chaewon. Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours—” she gasps, her voice trembling as she clings to you. “All yours—fuck—I’ve always been yours—”

Her words spur you on, your hips slamming into hers harder, deeper, your cock throbbing inside her as her pussy grips you tighter with every thrust. “Good girl,” you growl, your hand slipping between her legs to rub her clit, making her moan louder.

“Fuck—don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—” she pleads, her voice breaking as her hips buck against yours, chasing the release that’s just out of reach.

You keep pounding into her, your rhythm steady but hard enough to make the bed creak beneath you. Chaewon’s moans spill out unfiltered, her hands clutching at your shoulders, nails dragging across your skin in a way that only fuels your drive.

Then you get an idea.

Your hand slides down her stomach, your palm flat against her soft skin. When your fingers reach just above her pubic bone, you press down lightly, applying pressure right where you know it’ll make a difference.

The reaction is instant.

“Fuck—what—” she gasps, her thighs tightening around your waist as her body jolts beneath you. Her pussy clenches hard around your cock, the extra stimulation driving her wild as her head tilts back, exposing her flushed throat.

“Feel that?” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her neck, your hand staying firm against her lower abdomen as you thrust into her, each movement rubbing her G-spot perfectly. “Right here, baby. I can feel how close you are.”

“Oh my God—fuck—” she moans, her voice rising as her hips buck up to meet yours. “Don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—oh, God, it’s so good—”

“Yeah, you like that?” you growl, your pace quickening as you press down harder, feeling the way her body reacts to every thrust. “You’re so fucking tight, Chaewon—Jesus, you’re squeezing me so good—”

Her response is a broken cry, her thighs trembling around your hips as her hands grip you like she’s afraid you’ll disappear. “I can’t—I can’t—fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Gonna what?” you tease, your voice low and rough as you lean closer, your mouth brushing against her ear. “Gonna come all over my cock? Do it, baby—I want to feel it. Come for me.”

“Fuck—yes—” she chokes out, her voice trembling as her body tightens beneath you, her pussy clenching harder, wetter.

You push yourself up, your hands gripping Chaewon’s hips for leverage as you lift your body above her. With nothing to hold you back, you start pounding into her, hard and fast, your cock driving deep into her soaked pussy. Each thrust is accompanied by the wet, obscene sound of your bodies meeting, the noise blending with her uncontrolled moans into a symphony of raw lust.

Chaewon’s head tosses back against the pillow, her hair splayed out like a dark halo. Her hands clutch at the sheets now, her knuckles white as she fights to hold on, her voice spilling out in broken cries and gasps.

“Fuck—fuck—you’re so deep,” she stammers, her words slurring slightly as her legs tighten around your waist. “I can’t—GOD, it’s so good—”

Your hand returns to her lower abdomen, pressing down firmly just above her pubic bone. The moment you do, her body jolts, her pussy clenching hard around you like she’s trying to pull you in even deeper.

“Feel that?” you grunt, your voice rough as you look down at her, watching the way her body reacts beneath you. “I’m fucking you so good, baby. You’re so fucking tight—so wet—Jesus—This pussy is perfect.

Her response is a string of broken sounds, her eyes fluttering shut as her hips jerk up to meet yours. “I’m—I’m gonna—fuck—” she gasps, her hands flying up to grab at your arms, nails digging in as her thighs tremble.

You lean down slightly, your cock driving into her harder, deeper, as your thumb rubs circles into her clit while your hand presses her abdomen. “You gonna cum for me, baby?” you murmur, your voice low and commanding. “Do it. Cum for me, Chaewon. Show me how good I make you feel.”

Her eyes snap open, wild and glassy, and she lets out a cry that’s half your name, half a desperate moan. “Fuck—I’m—I’m cumming—”

You don’t let up, your pace relentless, your cock pounding into her slick heat as her entire body tenses beneath you. Her pussy clamps down on you, tight and pulsing, and you can feel the gush of wetness as her orgasm hits her full force.

“Oh my—fuck—oh my God—” she babbles, her voice breaking as her back arches off the bed. Her head thrashes from side to side, her hands gripping your arms like a lifeline as her body trembles violently.

Her eyes roll back, her mouth falling open in a silent scream, and you watch, mesmerized, as she completely falls apart. Her body shakes with the force of her orgasm, her thighs quivering as her pussy spasms around you, milking your cock with every wave of pleasure.

“Look at you,” you murmur, your voice rough but softening as you slow your movements, letting her ride it out. “So fucking beautiful when you cum for me.”

Chaewon’s response is barely coherent, a string of inaudible murmurs and random words that dissolve into breathless gasps. Her body trembles beneath you, her chest heaving as she comes down, her hands loosening their grip on your arms.

You slow to a stop, your cock still buried deep inside her as you lean down to press a soft kiss to her temple. She’s radiant, her skin flushed, her eyes half-closed as she looks up at you with a dazed, blissed-out expression that makes your cock throbs.

Chaewon lies beneath you, her chest still rising and falling as she struggles to catch her breath. Her skin is flushed, her hair a wild mess against the pillow, and she looks utterly wrecked in the most beautiful way. For a moment, she doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with wide, slightly dazed eyes.

Then she finally speaks, her voice a little hoarse but still carrying that sharp edge that’s so uniquely hers. “Holy shit. I didn’t know you had that in you.”

You grin, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. “What, you didn’t think I had any attitude in bed?”

She laughs softly, the sound half incredulous, half amused. “No! You’re like… a puppy most of the time. All lost eyes and awkward energy. And now this?” Her hand gestures vaguely between the two of you, as if she can’t even put it into words.

“Even a puppy’s got teeth,” you tease, nipping lightly at her jaw before trailing kisses down her neck.

“Clearly,” she mutters, her fingers sliding up into your hair as you kiss her. For a few moments, there’s nothing but the soft sound of your mouths meeting, her legs still loosely wrapped around your waist, keeping you close.

You pull back just enough to look at her, your smirk widening. “You okay down there?”

“Oh, I’m better than okay,” she says, narrowing her eyes at you, though there’s no mistaking the warmth in her gaze. “But I’m also pissed.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Pissed? Why?”

“All this time,” she says, her tone half scolding, half playful, “you were this good in bed and you deprived me of it? Do you know how unfair that is?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

“Not funny,” she snaps, though the way her lips curve into a smirk betrays her. “You’re lucky I’m not kicking you out right now.”

“You’re right,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her again, slow and deliberate. “Maybe I deserve to be punished.”

Her eyes glint with mischief as she kisses you back, her nails dragging lightly down your back. “Oh, you definitely deserve it. Bad puppy.”

“Yeah?” you murmur against her lips, your voice dropping. “How should I make it up to you?”

Chaewon pauses, pretending to think about it as her hand slides up your arm, her fingers brushing your shoulder. “For starters, you’re not leaving this apartment all weekend.”

“All weekend?” you echo, raising an eyebrow.

“Mm-hmm,” she hums, her legs tightening around your waist again, keeping you firmly in place. “You’re staying here. With me. Making up for lost time.”

You smirk, your hips shifting slightly to remind her that you’re still buried inside her. “Sounds like the best punishment I’ve ever heard.”

“Good,” she says, her tone playful but firm as she pulls you down for another kiss.

“No complaints,” you whisper against her lips.

“None allowed,” she replies, her voice low and teasing.

You can’t help but laugh softly, the sound blending with hers as you kiss her again.

Between soft pecks, she murmurs, “Now I want to suck your cock.”

Her words send a jolt of heat straight through you, and you groan softly, brushing your thumb against her flushed cheek. “Yeah?”

She nods, her smirk growing, her teeth catching her bottom lip in a way that makes your cock twitch inside her. “You’ve been driving me insane. Let me make it up to you.”

You laugh softly, leaning up to kiss her again before murmuring against her lips, “Turn around, baby. Sit on my face while you do.”

Her eyes darken, and she doesn’t need to be told twice. She pulls herself off your cock slowly, the sensation making both of you gasp, and you watch as she moves with a kind of confident grace that has your heart racing.

You shift onto your back, your head sinking into the pillow as she climbs over you, her knees straddling your shoulders. Her pussy is right there, glistening, flushed, and still slick with her creamy release. The sight alone is enough to make you groan.

But she doesn’t stop there. Chaewon shifts again, leaning forward and gripping your cock in her hand. It’s still wet with her juices, shining in the soft light, and she doesn’t waste any time. Her tongue darts out, licking a long stripe up the length, tasting herself on you.

“Fuck, Chaewon,” you breathe, your hands gripping her thighs as she lowers herself onto your mouth.

The first taste of her is overwhelming—warm, wet, and utterly intoxicating. You dive in, your tongue sliding between her folds to lap up the creamy slickness she left behind. She gasps, her body jerking slightly as you suck on her clit, your hands gripping her hips to hold her in place.

“Shit—” she moans, her voice muffled as she takes your cock deeper into her mouth. Her tongue swirls around the tip, teasing the sensitive head before sliding down the shaft, her lips stretching as she takes more of you.

The room fills with the obscene sounds of wet sucking and muffled moans, the vibrations of her throat around your cock sending shocks of pleasure through your body. But you’re just as relentless, your tongue circling her clit before dipping back into her entrance, tasting the creamy slickness she’s giving you.

Your hands grip her hips tighter, guiding her movements as you suck and lick, driving her higher. Her moans grow louder, vibrating around your cock as she bobs her head, her hand stroking the base in rhythm with her mouth.

“God, you taste so fucking good,” you groan, your voice muffled against her pussy. “So fucking wet, baby. Can’t get enough of you.”

She pulls off your cock with a wet pop, gasping as her hips grind against your face. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she mutters breathlessly before taking you back into her mouth, her tongue working you with an intensity that makes your head spin.

The heat, the wetness, the overwhelming pleasure—it’s too much and not enough all at once. Your world narrows to the feel of her pussy on your tongue, the taste of her, the way her lips glide over your cock.

Chaewon’s hips rock against your face, her movements desperate now as her moans grow louder, more urgent. “Fuck—this is so good—” she gasps, her lips wrap tighter around your cock, her movements slow and deliberate as she takes you deep into her mouth.

Chaewon is dripping saliva now, her mouth working expertly as her tongue flicks along the underside of your shaft with every bob of her head. You glance down and see the way your cock glistens, a mix of her drool and the remnants of her creamy juices pooling at the base and dripping down to your balls. It’s filthy, and it’s driving you insane.

“Fuck, Chaewon,” you groan, your voice muffled as your mouth stays latched to her pussy. You tighten your grip on her ass, spreading her cheeks as you pull her even closer, her wet heat pressing firmly against your lips.

She lets out a muffled moan around your cock, the vibration sending jolts of pleasure through you. Her hand wraps around your base, stroking the length she can’t fit in her mouth, her movements slick and messy.

Your tongue moves with purpose now, circling her clit before dipping down to lap at her entrance, tasting the creamy slickness she’s giving you. She’s so sensitive, her pussy twitching against your mouth every time you press harder.

Your fingers dig into her ass, holding her firmly as you suck her clit into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the swollen bud. Chaewon gasps around your cock, her hips jerking against your face as her thighs tremble.

“Shit—oh fuck—” she gasps, pulling off your cock for just a second to catch her breath. A string of saliva connects her lips to your tip, and she doesn’t even bother wiping it away before diving back down, taking you deep with a lewd, wet sound.

You moan into her pussy, the vibrations making her shudder above you. Her hips grind against your face now, her body moving on instinct as her moans grow louder, more desperate. You focus on her clit, sucking and flicking your tongue relentlessly, feeling the way her body tightens beneath your hands.

“God—fuck—I’m so—” she stammers, her voice trembling as her thighs begin to shake. “I can’t—I’m gonna—oh my god—”

Her words spur you on, your mouth and tongue working overtime as you push her closer and closer to the edge. Her pussy clenches and spasms against your tongue, her juices flowing freely now, soaking your face as she loses control.

“Fuck—fuck—I’m cumming—” she cries out, her voice breaking as her body tenses.

Her orgasm hits her like a wave, her hips jerking wildly as her pussy pulses against your mouth. You don’t stop, your tongue lapping up every drop of her release, the salty-sweet taste of her flooding your senses.

Chaewon’s moans turn into sharp cries, her hands clutching at your thighs for balance as her body trembles violently. Her head tilts back, her hair sticking to her damp forehead as she gasps for air, her thighs trembling on either side of your head.

Her entire body shudders, her hips grinding one last time against your face before collapsing, her chest heaving as she lets out a shaky, satisfied moan. You pull back slightly, your lips and chin glistening with her release, and watch as she tries to catch her breath, her body still twitching from the aftershocks.

Chaewon’s body glistens in the dim light, her flushed skin still recovering from the intense orgasm you just gave her. Her dark eyes lock onto yours, shining with lust and something deeper—something unspoken but undeniably there.

You reach out, your hand sliding down her body slowly, tracing the curve of her spine before settling on her hip. “Turn around,” you murmur, your voice low and thick. “Get on all fours.”

She doesn’t hesitate. With a languid grace, Chaewon shifts onto her hands and knees, her back arching as she adjusts herself. The sight in front of you is fucking breathtaking—her perky ass tilted up, her waist impossibly small, her thighs trembling just slightly as she steadies herself. Her pussy is glistening, swollen and wet, and your cock throbs painfully at the sight.

“Holy fuck,” you mutter under your breath, stepping closer. Your hands move instinctively to her waist, gripping it gently at first, your thumbs brushing the soft skin just above her hips.

Chaewon glances back over her shoulder, her hair falling messily around her flushed face. Her lips curl into a sly smile as she notices the way your hands tighten on her. “Fits perfectly, doesn’t it?” she teases, her voice still breathy but filled with confidence.

“Perfect doesn’t even cover it,” you reply, your fingers digging into her waist slightly as your cock brushes against her wet entrance, teasing her. “You’re fucking incredible, Chaewon.”

She huffs out a soft laugh, then she bites her lip, her gaze steady as she says, “Go hard, okay? Make me scream.”

“You sure about that?” you ask, your voice rough as you press the head of your cock against her slick folds, teasing her clit.

“Don’t make me beg,” she mutters, her voice trembling slightly. “Just fucking do it.”

That’s all the encouragement you need. With one firm thrust, you push into her, burying yourself to the hilt. Her pussy is impossibly tight, wet, and warm, gripping you perfectly as you stretch her.

“Fuck—” Chaewon gasps, her back arching sharply as her hands clutch at the sheets. “Oh my God—”

Your hands tighten on her waist, holding her steady as you pull back slowly before slamming into her again, harder this time. Her cry echoes through the room, raw and unfiltered, and it only spurs you on.

“You feel so fucking good,” you growl, your hips snapping against hers with each thrust. “So fucking tight, Chaewon. Taking me so perfectly.”

“Fuck—yes—” she moans, her voice high and breathy as her body moves with yours. “Harder—please—don’t stop—”

Your grip on her waist tightens, your fingers digging into her soft flesh as you pound into her, each thrust sending shockwaves through both of you. The sound of your bodies meeting—wet and obscene—fills the room, mixing with her breathless moans and your low groans.

“Scream for me, baby,” you growl, thrusting into her harder, deeper, making her cry out. “Come on, let me hear how much you love being my slut!”

“OH GOD—FUCK—You're fucking me so good!” she cries, her voice trembling as her head drops forward, her hair sticking to her damp skin. “You’re—oh fuck—”

You grip Chaewon’s waist tighter, your fingers digging into her soft flesh as your hips snap forward, burying yourself to the hilt inside her.

“Fuck—yes—fuck!” she screams, her head thrown back, hair sticking to her flushed skin. Her hands clutch at the sheets, pulling them tight as her body rocks forward with every thrust.

“Chaewon,” you growl, your voice low and rough, completely lost in the way she feels around you. “You’re so fucking perfect. This pussy—fuck—it’s mine. All fucking mine.”

“Yes—yes—it’s yours!” she gasps, her voice cracking as you drive deeper, harder, her words trembling with each thrust. “God—don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—”

Her legs tremble beneath you, her body arching beautifully, giving you an even better angle as you slam into her. You pull her closer, her ass pressing firmly against your hips with each rough thrust. The way she takes you—so tight, so wet, so eager—fuels something primal inside you, pushing you to fuck her even harder.

“Listen to you,” you murmur, leaning forward slightly, your lips brushing against the damp skin of her shoulder. “Screaming for me like you were made for this. Like you were made for me.”

“Fuck—yes—I was—I fucking was,” she babbles, her voice barely coherent as her nails dig into the sheets.

Your hand slides up her back, pressing her down just enough to make her arch even more. The new angle has you hitting deeper, and her response is immediate—a loud, desperate scream that sends a jolt of heat through your veins.

“That’s it,” you growl, your hand returning to her waist, gripping her like you never want to let go. “Tell me, baby, tell me you're my whore. I wanna hear you scream it.”

“Yours—fuck—oh God—I’m your whore!” she cries, her voice raw and filled with nothing but pleasure. Her body tightens around you, her walls clenching with every thrust as if she’s trying to pull you even deeper.

“That's it, baby, you’re mine,” you growl, your pace relentless as you slam into her over and over. “All fucking mine. Say it!”

“I’m yours—oh fuck—I’m yours!” she screams, her voice trembling as her hands clutch at the bed, her back arching beautifully. “God—you’re so fucking good—I’m so close—”

Her words send a wave of possessive need through you, chasing her pleasure as if it’s your own. The sound of her moans, her cries, her desperate gasps—it’s all too much and not enough, spurring you on like nothing else ever has, every thrust sending shockwaves through Chaewon’s trembling body as the bed creaks beneath you both. Her cries fill the room, loud and desperate, and the way she moans your name like a mantra only makes you go harder, deeper, until the sound of your hips slamming into her drowns out everything else.

Then an idea strikes, and without warning, you grab her arms, pulling them back until you’ve got both of her wrists in your grip. The shift makes her back arch further, her ass pressing harder against your hips, and the change in angle has her screaming almost immediately.

“Fuck—oh my God!” she cries, her voice trembling as her head falls forward.

You lean over her, keeping her wrists pinned as you growl into her ear, “You’re so fucking good like this, Chaewon. Letting me use you. Letting me make you mine.”

“Y-yes,” she gasps, her voice breaking as she shudders beneath you. “I’m yours—God, I’m yours—”

Your grip tightens on her wrists as you fuck her harder, her body jerking forward with each thrust. Her submission is intoxicating, the way she gives herself to you completely, her moans turning into needy, desperate whimpers that make your cock throb inside her.

“Look at you,” you growl, your voice low and filled with possessiveness. “So fucking slutty for me. Taking me so well. You love this, don’t you?”

“Yes—yes—fuck—” she babbles, her words slurring together as her walls tighten around you. “I love it, baby—don’t stop—please don’t stop—”

Her legs tremble beneath her, her body quivering with every rough thrust as you pound into her without mercy.

“You’re perfect,” you mutter, your hand releasing one of her wrists to grab her hair, pulling her head back so you can see her flushed, tear-streaked face. “So fucking perfect, Chaewon. My good girl. My little slut.”

She whimpers at your words, her lips trembling as she looks back at you with lust-glazed eyes. “Yours—I’m yours—I’ll be whatever you want—just don’t stop—please—”

Her submission sends a surge of heat through you, and you tighten your grip on her hair, your other hand still holding her remaining wrist as you thrust into her harder, faster, your cock hitting deeper with each movement.

“Fuck—you’re so good—so fucking good,” you growl, your voice rough as you watch her completely fall apart beneath you. Her body is yours, her moans and cries yours, and the way she clenches around you, wet and tight and perfect, makes it clear she wouldn’t want it any other way.

Your pace doesn’t falter as you release your hand from the grip on Chaewon's hair to move to her ass, her smooth skin practically glowing in the dim light. The sight of her beneath you—arched, trembling, taking every rough thrust—is enough to make your heart race with possessive pride.

Without warning, you bring your hand down hard against her cheek. The slap rings out loud and sharp, the sound almost deafening over the wet, obscene rhythm of your fucking.

“Ah—fuck!” Chaewon screams, her back arching further as her body jolts from the impact.

You grin, your palm tingling as you rub the spot where you struck, feeling the heat blooming under your touch. “You like that?” you growl, your voice low and teasing.

“Yes—fuck—yes!” she cries, her voice trembling. “Do it again—please—”

Her begging ignites something feral inside you, and you don’t make her wait. You bring your hand down again, harder this time, the sound even louder as it echoes through the room. Her ass jiggles from the force, the skin already turning a faint pink.

“Fuck, Chaewon,” you growl, gripping her waist tighter as you keep pounding into her. “You look so fucking good like this. Screaming for me, begging me to spank you. Such a good little slut.”

“Y-yes—God—please—more,” she babbles, her voice breaking into desperate gasps as her hands clutch the sheets beneath her.

You oblige, spanking her again, harder, the sting vibrating up your arm as her moans grow louder. Her ass reddens under your hand, the marks spreading with each slap, and the way she writhes beneath you, pushing her hips back for more, only makes you lose yourself further.

“Look at you,” you murmur, alternating between rough spanks and squeezing her reddened cheeks. “So fucking perfect. You love being punished, don’t you? Love being my little plaything.”

“Fuck—yes—I love it—” she gasps, her voice high and strained. “Please—don’t stop—don’t stop—”

Her pussy clenches tighter around your cock, her slick heat dripping down your length as you keep pounding into her.

“I'm gonna ruin you every fucking day from now on,” you growl, your voice thick with possessiveness. “This is what you’ve been craving, isn’t it, Chaewon? To be my dirty little whore, used and fucked exactly how I want.”

“Y-yes!” she cries, her voice cracking as her body shakes beneath you. “I’ve wanted this—wanted you to own me—since the first moment I saw you!”

Her words send a wave of heat through you, and you spank her again, your handprint glowing red on her perfect skin. She moans louder, her cries turning into broken whimpers as her body quivers with pleasure and pain.

You lean forward, pressing your chest against Chaewon’s back as your weight settles on top of her. The new position forces you even deeper inside her, and the moan that rips from her throat is nothing short of desperate. Her ass is still red and warm under your hips, and you grab her waist tightly, holding her in place as you grind into her, your cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside her.

“Fuck—oh my God—” she cries, her fingers clawing at the sheets as her head tilts back, pressing against your shoulder. “You’re so fucking deep—I can’t—I can’t take it—”

“Yes, you can,” you growl against her neck, your voice rough as your lips trail along her flushed skin. “You’re made for this, Chaewon. Made to take me. You feel that? How perfect you are for me?”

Her response is a strangled moan, her legs trembling beneath you as you thrust into her harder, deeper, the wet sound of her pussy clenching around your cock mixing with her breathless gasps. Your hands slide up her body, gripping her shoulders as your mouth latches onto her neck, sucking and biting just enough to leave marks.

“Mine,” you murmur against her skin, your teeth grazing her ear. “You’re mine, Chaewon. No one else gets to have you like this. No one else gets to see you like this.”

“Yes—yes—I’m yours!” she gasps, her voice trembling with lust and something more. “You’re mine, too—fuck—you’re all mine—don’t forget it—”

Her words spur you on, your hips slamming against hers as you fuck her harder, your cock driving into her soaked pussy with relentless intensity. She’s writhing beneath you now, her hands reaching back to grab at your thighs, trying to pull you even closer.

“You’re so fucking good for me,” you growl, your lips still pressed to her neck. “So perfect, baby. Letting me fuck you like this...”

“Don’t stop—fuck—don’t stop,” she cries, her voice breaking into a series of gasps and moans. “You’re so—so fucking good—I can’t—I’m gonna lose it—”

You pull her closer, your chest flush against her back, your hands sliding up to tangle in her hair as you kiss her neck, her jaw, her shoulder. “You drive me crazy, Chaewon,” you murmur, your voice thick with need. “No one else—fuck—no one else makes me feel like this.”

She whimpers, her body arching against yours, her nails digging into your thighs as her pussy clenches tighter around you. “This fucking cock belongs to me,” she mutters, her voice low and fierce even through the haze of pleasure. “No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to fuck you like this. Just me.”

“Just you,” you agree, your lips brushing against her ear as you thrust into her harder, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the room. “Only you, Chaewon… Only you.”

Her moans grow louder, more desperate, her possessiveness fueling your own as you fuck her with everything you have, your mouth never leaving her skin, marking her as yours.

You feel Chaewon tighten around your cock, her walls clenching rhythmically, as her breath hitches and her body trembles beneath you. Her voice rises into a desperate, shaky moan.

“Oh my God—fuck—you’re—you’re gonna—” she stammers, her words barely coherent as her legs tremble and her hands grip the sheets. “You’re gonna make me cum—oh, fuck—”

Her warning lights a fire in you. You plant your hands on the bed for leverage, lifting your chest off her back as you start pounding into her with renewed intensity. Chaewon’s body is fully pressed into the mattress, her moans loud and uncontrollable with every thrust.

“You’re so fucking close, aren’t you?” you growl, slamming into her harder, faster, your cock driving deep into her soaked pussy with every stroke. “Come on, baby, let go for me. I want to feel you cum.”

Chaewon lets out a strangled cry, her words spilling out in broken fragments. “I’m—I’m gonna—fuck—it’s so—oh my God—it’s too much—”

You grip her hips tightly, your fingers digging into her soft skin as you pull her back onto your cock, treating her like a perfect, desperate fucktoy. The obscene sound of your thrusts fills the room—wet, loud, and relentless—and it’s all too much.

Her voice climbs higher, her moans turning into desperate screams as she writhes beneath you, her body completely at your mercy. “I’m—I’m cumming—I’m cumming—oh, fuck—fuck—fuck—”

Her orgasm crashes over her like a wave, her entire body tensing as she lets out a guttural scream. Her pussy clamps down on you, tight and pulsing, soaking your cock with a flood of wetness. The sheets beneath her are drenched as her release gushes out, her legs trembling uncontrollably.

Chaewon’s cries turn into babbling, her words slurred and disconnected as her head thrashes against the pillow. “Oh—God—I can’t—fuck—it’s too—so good—fuck—you’re—”

You don’t stop, driving her through the peak of her orgasm, your hips slamming against her as she quivers beneath you, her body shaking with aftershocks. Her nails claw at the sheets, her thighs trembling violently as her moans dissolve into breathless whimpers.

Finally, you slow your movements, your hands sliding up to soothe her hips as her body collapses fully onto the bed. Chaewon’s breathing is ragged, her chest rising and falling as she tries to catch her breath, her face flushed and glowing with the aftermath of her release.

You feel the heat building fast, your cock throbbing inside Chaewon’s soaked pussy as her walls pulse around you. The slick, tight heat of her drives you closer to the edge, and you know you’re seconds away. Your thrusts grow erratic, your breath ragged, and you groan deeply.

“Chaewon,” you manage, your voice strained. “I’m gonna cum—where do you want it?”

She’s still panting beneath you, her body trembling from the intensity of her orgasm. Her hair is a messy halo around her flushed face, and her eyes, half-lidded and lust-filled, meet yours. “All over me,” she breathes, her voice husky and demanding. “I want it all over my body.”

Her words send a jolt through you, and you pull out of her slowly, groaning at the wet drag as her pussy reluctantly lets you go. “Lie back,” you tell her, your voice low and rough.

She obeys immediately, shifting onto her back and spreading her legs, her body sprawled out for you. Her skin glows in the soft light, flushed and glistening with sweat, her chest rising and falling as she stares up at you.

You kneel between her legs, your cock slick with her juices, throbbing and aching for release. Wrapping your hand around your length, you start stroking yourself, the wet sound of your movements mixing with the heavy breathing between you.

The head of your cock brushes against her entrance as you jerk off, rubbing against her folds, teasing her clit as you use her heat to drive yourself further. She gasps softly at the contact, her hands gripping the sheets as her hips shift slightly, her body instinctively chasing the friction.

“Fuck,” you mutter, your eyes locked on her. “You’re so fucking perfect, Chaewon. Look at you—messy, panting—so fucking gorgeous.”

She smirks faintly, her voice still breathless as she murmurs, “It’s all for you. I’m all for you.”

Her words fuel your need, and you stroke yourself faster, the tightness in your abdomen coiling as you feel the orgasm building. Chaewon notices, her gaze dropping to your cock, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“Come on,” she whispers, her voice low and possessive. “Cum for me. Cover me with it. I want all of it—all of you.”

Her dirty encouragement pushes you to the brink, and your strokes grow faster, harder, the head of your cock pressing against her entrance with every movement. “Fuck, Chaewon—” you groan, your voice breaking as the tension snaps.

The first spurt of cum shoots out hot and thick, landing just below her breasts, painting her flushed skin. Another follows, splattering across her abdomen, her pelvis, dripping down toward her pussy. You keep stroking, the pleasure overwhelming as you empty yourself onto her, every spurt marking her as yours.

Chaewon moans softly, her hands sliding up her body, spreading the sticky heat of your cum over her skin. Her eyes gleam as she looks up at you, her voice low and sultry. “That’s it—so good—so fucking good. Your cum is so warm, damn....”

You shudder at her words, your hand slowing as the last few drops spill from your cock, dripping onto her already glistening skin. Panting, you lean back slightly, your cock still throbs, the sensitivity almost unbearable, yet there’s more—your balls feel heavy, not yet spent. Chaewon lies beneath you, her body painted with streaks of your cum, her fingers lazily tracing through the mess on her skin as she gazes up at you with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"That can’t be all you’ve got," she teases, her voice soft but dripping with hunger. She trails a hand down to her stomach, scooping some of your cum onto her fingers before bringing it to her lips, sucking them clean. "I know there’s more in there. I want every drop, every fucking bit. I’m your cumslut—give it to me."

Groaning, you grip your cock, still hard and slick from your first release. "You greedy fucking slut," you mutter, your voice strained, raw. "You’re not satisfied until I empty myself completely, are you?"

"Never," she breathes, spreading her legs wider, her body arching slightly as if inviting you back inside. "Cum for me again. Paint me. Use me however you want—just don’t stop."

You shift between her thighs, lining up your cock with her swollen, soaked entrance. Even with your sensitivity, the sight of her, her body glistening with sweat and cum, drives you forward. You push into her, groaning as her tight, slick heat engulfs you again, every nerve ending screaming in overstimulation.

"Fuck—this is so good," you growl, gripping her hips hard as you start moving. The wet slap of your thrusts fills the air, mingling with her cries of pleasure as you pump into her with a slow, deliberate rhythm, determined to coax every last drop from yourself.

Chaewon clings to you, her nails dragging down your back, her breathless voice pleading. "Yes—more—fuck me harder. I want it all, every fucking drop!"

Her words fuel you, your pace quickening despite the overwhelming sensitivity. Your cock twitches inside her, the ache in your balls intensifying as you edge closer again. You pull her legs higher, changing the angle to drive deeper, her cries turning into high-pitched whimpers as her pussy clamps down around you, desperate and needy.

"Chaewon," you groan, your voice breaking. "I’m close—fuck—you’re gonna take everything."

"Yes, yes, please!" she begs, her hands roaming her cum-covered body, spreading it across her breasts, her stomach, even up to her neck. "Fill me with cum—own me!"

The sight of her—her fingers rubbing your cum into her skin, her lips parted in pure ecstasy—is too much. You pull out suddenly, climbing up her body until your cock is level with her face. “Open your mouth,” you command, your voice rough and trembling.

She obeys immediately, her lips parting as she looks up at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. Her tongue flicks out slightly, teasing, as if she knows exactly what she’s doing to you.

You stroke yourself quickly, your cock slick and throbbing, the tension building impossibly fast. “Fuck—Chaewon—I’m gonna—”

Your words cut off as you cum, the first thick spurt landing directly on her tongue. She moans softly, her eyes fluttering closed as more of your release fills her mouth, hot and heavy.

Each spurt is stronger than the last, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. Your body trembles, your groans filling the room as you spill everything into her waiting mouth.

When it finally subsides, you watch as Chaewon looks up at you, her tongue still out, showing you the thick pool of cum resting there. Her lips curl into a mischievous, naughty smile before she closes her mouth and swallows it all in one go, the motion deliberate and slow.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your chest heaving as you watch her.

She grins, her tongue darting out to lick her lips before leaning forward. “Missed a spot,” she murmurs, her voice low and teasing.

Her lips wrap around the head of your cock, soft and warm as she sucks lightly, her tongue swirling to clean the remnants of your release. Even with the sensitivity, it feels incredible, and you groan softly, your fingers brushing against her cheek.

When she finally pulls back, she looks up at you with that same naughty smile, her lips glistening. “All clean,” she says, her tone playful.

"Goddamn, you're such a slut," you mutter, your body trembling, utterly spent but unable to tear your eyes away from her.

She grins. “I told you—I’m your cumslut.”

languidly you sit up on the edge of the bed, still catching your breath, your body slick with sweat and the aftermath of everything you’ve just done. Chaewon lies sprawled out on the bed, hair messy and sticking to her face, her chest still rising and falling.

“Fuck,” you say, running a hand through your damp hair. “That was… pretty intense, huh?”

She snorts, throwing an arm over her eyes as she stretches, the movement casual but still impossibly sexy. “You’re calling it intense? My ass is still burning from all those slaps, thanks to you.”

You glance over at her, a flicker of guilt crossing your face. “Shit. Uh, sorry about that…”

She pulls her arm down to glare at you, but her lips twitch with a smirk. “Don’t apologize. I liked it.”

Your mouth opens, then closes. “Oh. Uh. Good?”

“Great, actually,” she says, laughing softly as she shifts onto her side, propping her head up on her hand. “But now I need to ask. Was this all part of some master plan?”

You frown, confused. “Plan? What plan?”

She gestures between you. “This. You acting like a sad, helpless puppy so I’d feel sorry for you and bring you here. Then, bam—you flip the script, fuck me senseless, and prove you’re not as pathetic as you looked at work.”

You stare at her for a beat, then burst out laughing, shaking your head. “Come on, Chaewon. You really think I’m that calculated?”

She raises an eyebrow. “You tell me.”

“Trust me,” you say, still laughing, “if you hadn’t dragged me out of the office, I’d be at home right now. Sad. Lonely. Probably halfway through a tub of ice cream and binge-watching Breaking Bad for the third time.”

Chaewon snickers, clearly enjoying the mental image. “Ice cream and Walter White. God, you are hopeless.”

“Exactly,” you reply, grinning. “So no, this wasn’t planned. But… I’m not complaining about how it turned out.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, me neither.”

A comfortable silence falls between you for a moment before she sits up slightly, glancing at the nightstand. “What time is it?”

You lean over, squinting at the alarm clock. “Almost ten-thirty.”

She groans, falling back onto the pillows. “No wonder I’m starving. We didn’t eat shit at the bar.”

Your stomach growls loudly, and you laugh. “Yeah, same here.”

Chaewon looks over at you, her hair falling into her eyes as she smirks. “Pizza?”

“Pizza,” you agree immediately.

She scoots over to the other side of the bed, grabs the pants off the floor, and pulls her phone out of the pocket, scrolling through her delivery app. “What do you want on it?”

You shrug, lying back down beside her. “I’m not picky. Whatever you want.”

“Dangerous words,” she teases, glancing at you. “I could order anchovies and pineapple, and you’d have to deal with it.”

You mock gasp. “You wouldn’t.”

She grins, nudging your shoulder. “Relax. I’ll pick something safe. Pepperoni and sausage okay?”

“Perfect,” you say, watching her as she places the order.

As the confirmation screen pops up, she sets her phone down and looks at you, her eyes still holding that familiar mischievous glint. “You better have enough energy left to help me eat it, because I’m not carrying your dead weight through another round tonight.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Fair enough. Let’s refuel, then we’ll see who’s carrying who.”

Her smirk widens. “You’re on, puppy.”

Without warning, Chaewon approaches and settles onto your lap, her thighs straddling yours, her body warm and soft against you. The heat of her skin pressed to yours grounding you in a way that feels almost surreal. Her arms loop loosely around your neck, and her face is closer than you expected, her dark eyes searching yours with a softness that contrasts her usual sharpness.

“So,” she begins, her voice quiet but laced with a teasing edge. “How are we gonna handle this… thing now?”

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. “This thing?”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s no malice in it. “Don’t play dumb. Us. This.” She gestures vaguely between your naked bodies.

“Right,” you say, your hands sliding up her sides to rest on her waist. “I guess… we should figure that out.”

She smirks, leaning in slightly, her nose brushing against yours. “You’re not going back to pretending this didn’t happen, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you reply quickly, your tone firm. “How could I, after… everything?”

Chaewon’s smirk softens into a small, genuine smile, and she tilts her head, her fingers toying with the hair at the nape of your neck. “Good. Because I don’t think I could handle watching you mope around the office pretending this didn’t mean something.”

“It means something,” you say quietly, your thumbs brushing against her waist. “I just… didn’t know it meant something to you too.”

She looks away for a second, her cheeks turning pink, but then she sighs and meets your gaze again. “It always did,” she admits, her voice softer now. “I’ve liked you for a long time. I just didn’t know if you felt the same way—or if you were too busy chasing every girl who wasn’t me to notice.”

You wince slightly. “Ouch.”

“I’m just saying,” she teases, though there’s a hint of truth in her tone. “You always seemed to go for the ones who didn’t care about you. Meanwhile, I…” She trails off, biting her lip. “I noticed you.”

Your chest tightens at her words, and you reach up to cup her cheek, brushing your thumb against her skin. “When?”

Her lips curve into a faint smile, her eyes flicking to the side as if she’s remembering something. “There were moments,” she says after a pause. “Like the time you stayed late to help me with that awful report, even though you didn’t have to. Or the time you lent me your jacket after I spilled coffee all over myself, even though it was freezing outside and you looked like an idiot walking around in just your shirt.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I remember that. I thought you were going to yell at me for being too nice.”

“I almost did,” she admits with a grin. “But then I realized… I didn’t want you to stop.”

Her words settle between you, heavy and meaningful, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. Then Chaewon leans in, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that feels more like a promise than anything else.

When she pulls back, her eyes are brighter, her expression teasing again. “Anyway, you’re stuck here all weekend, remember? I think we’ve got plenty of time to figure this out.”

You grin, your hands sliding down to rest on her hips. “You’re right. And for the record, I’m not complaining.”

“Good,” she murmurs, leaning in for another kiss. This one is deeper, slower, her fingers tangling in your hair as your hands tighten on her waist, pulling her closer.

The kiss breaks only when she laughs softly, her forehead resting against yours. “This feels… nice,” she says, her voice quiet.

“Yeah,” you agree, your thumb tracing small circles on her hip. “It does.”

The two of you stay like that for a while, exchanging kisses and soft touches, the weight of the moment settling into something warm and intimate.

It’s simple, and yet it feels like everything.

[wheresarizona]

but he’s the one I want

summary: All you needed was to see if your dad’s friend, Joel, had a spare key to your father’s house. Instead, you get railed within an inch of your life on Joel’s couch. 

His brown eyes squeeze shut. “Lord help me,” he says under his breath. A second passes, and then he’s looking at you. “Fuck it—I’m already goin’ to hell.” Joel’s large palms grab your face, pulling you in to crush his lips against yours, muffling your surprised sound. 

pairing: DBF!Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller/College Student f!reader (no physical descriptions)

rating: E (18+!!! No y/n, DBF!Joel Miller, slightly possessive Joel Miller, pre-Outbreak, age gap, explicit consent, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dirty talk, size kink, praise kink, spit as lube, overstimulation, sex on stairs, body worship, slight body insecurity, getting caught, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, Die Hard is a Christmas movie debate) 

word count: 11.5k+

a/n: Alexa, play “But Daddy I Love Him” by Taylor Swift. I don’t know where this came from (daddy issues), but I hope you enjoy it! Reader is freshly 21 in my head, Joel is 35 (it’s months before his birthday), and Tommy is 29. Let me know what you think! Big shoutout to @devineconjuring for going on this journey with me and betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Main Masterlist

Knock, knock, knock. 

It’s a Friday night; the sky is dark, but the porch light is on. You hug your jacket a little closer to your body to stave off the chill in the air as you wait outside the front door for someone to answer it. A masculine voice calls out, "Comin’!" Footsteps thud on the hardwood floor as they head your way. 

Seconds later, the door is cracked open, and you’re met with the home’s owner, Joel Miller. Just the sight of him in his jeans and navy blue t-shirt has your heart rate picking up in speed, the man looking as handsome as ever. 

His eyebrows furrow in confusion when he sees you. 

"Hey," he greets. "What are you doin' here? Shouldn't you be in school?"

University of Houston—go, Cougars!

You smile. "Three-day weekend—I have Monday off. I thought I'd surprise my dad since it's his birthday." 

The confused look doesn’t disappear. "I coulda sworn he told me they were goin' to Vegas to celebrate a few days ago." ‘They’ being your father, stepmother, and your teenage half-brother.

“Well, I guess it slipped his mind to tell me they were going out of town. He must be getting forgetful in his old age.” 

The relationship you have with your father is… complicated. It’s not bad by any means—you get along and love each other. He just wasn’t very present when you were growing up—he lived in Austin while you were with your mom in Houston, only seeing him a few times per year. Now that you have a car and your mom moved out of state last year with her new husband, you occasionally made the three-hour drive to your dad’s to visit and do your laundry free of charge. It was also where you now stayed on your breaks from school.

Joel opens the door a little wider and crosses his arms over his chest, your eyes moving from his face to admire the broadness in his shoulders and the muscles in his forearms. Having his full attention on you makes the nerves in your belly flutter around like a bunch of butterflies were let loose. 

“He’s not much older than me,” Joel says. His eyebrow lifts. “Are you callin’ me old?” 

The man in question happens to be one of your father’s best friends—or so you’ve been told. In all of the visits to your dad’s growing up, you could count the number of times you saw Joel on one hand. Over the past year that you’ve been coming to Austin regularly, you’ve had much more interaction with him, which has led to you developing a little bit of a crush. Who can blame you, though? He’s gorgeous—the chocolate-colored eyes, the hair that looks so soft, that perfect nose, and those kissable lips. 

“If the shoe fits,” you reply with a shrug and a smile. 

“Kids these days,” Joel grumbles under his breath, shaking his head. “Did you come by just to call me old?” he asks. 

“Oh, no. I was expecting at least one person to be at my dad’s, so I didn’t bother bringing my house key. I’m here to see if you possibly have a spare I could borrow—I would’ve called, but I don’t have your number.” 

Maybe he’d give it to you now…

“I’m sorry, darlin’, I don’t.” 

Hot and a sweetheart—how is he single? Is he single?

You frown, feeling annoyed that you drove all this way to Austin for no reason. You should’ve called ahead, but that was your mistake, assuming your family would stay in town for your father’s birthday. “This was a waste of gas,” you muse. “Love that for me. Well, it looks like I’m heading home, or maybe I’ll get a cheap motel room. Thanks anyway, Joel. Have a nice rest of your night!” You do a little wave at him. 

You start to turn, but stop when he says, “Wait,” and you face him again. He opens the door wider. “It’s too late for you to be drivin’ all that way, and there’s no reason you should pay for a motel when I’ve got a guest room you can stay in. You can get a good night's sleep and leave tomorrow mornin’ when the sun’s shinin’.” 

Again, a sweetheart—why hasn’t anyone snatched him up? Or have they?

“Are you sure?” you ask. 

He finally offers you a friendly smile and moves to open the door all the way. “Yeah, it’s no problem. I was feelin’ lonely anyway with Sarah gone at a sleepover. It’ll be nice to have some company that isn’t my brother.” 

Lonely? Nice to have some company? That sounds pretty single to you. Your night just got a lot more interesting. “Thank you so much! I’ll do my best to be better company than your brother.” 

With that, you make your way inside, toeing off your shoes next to a pair of his work boots.

“That won’t be too hard,” Joel says as he shuts the door. 

You stop in the entryway because you��re not quite sure where you should be going since you've never actually been inside his house. You only know where he lives because your father once asked you to drop something off here. 

“Let me get your coat and bag.” You hand him your small purse, and he moves behind you, helping as you shrug off the long jacket you’re wearing, which he hangs up on a nearby coat hook with your bag. “Oh.” He stops in his tracks, and you look at him, seeing his widened eyes staring at your body. “Were you plannin’ on goin’ out tonight?” 

You glance down at your outfit, and you can understand why he’d make that assumption at the sight of the cute little black dress you’re wearing—it only reaches mid-thigh and has a V-neckline to show off your breasts.

“Not going out—it’s laundry day. I do my laundry when I come to Austin, and this was literally the last clean thing I had.” Your eyes lift to see his glued to your chest, and you think that’s an interesting development. “I have spare clothes I keep at my dad’s that I planned on changing into.” 

It’s the truth, and you’re a little thankful this was your last clean outfit. You can only imagine how embarrassing it would’ve been coming over here in a ratty old T-shirt, granny panties, and your Spongebob Squarepants pajama pants. 

He clears his throat and looks away. A rosy blush appears on his cheeks as he scratches at the back of his neck. “I can put my jacket back on,” you tell him, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.

“No, no.” He meets your gaze, offering a reassuring smile. “It’s fine—do you need to use my washer and dryer?” 

“You’re already being nice, letting me stay over. I can wash my clothes at the laundromat when I get home.” 

“It’s really no big deal.” 

“Thank you, but I’m good.” 

“Okay.” His hands go in his pockets, and he seems to get very interested in the short console table against the wall, staring at the contents lying atop it—a stack of unopened mail and what you assume are his keys and wallet.  

“So, what were you doing before I interrupted your evening?” 

“Oh—” He looks at you again. “—I was watchin’ a movie. Would you like to join me?” 

You smile. “Sure—lead the way.” 

He takes you to the living room, where a movie is paused on the television, and lets you know you can sit anywhere. Your choices are one of two armchairs and a maroon leather sofa, and you choose the sofa while he heads for the kitchen. 

“Would ya like a beer?” he calls out on his way to the other room. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond because a second later, he’s back at the doorway to the living room with a confused expression again. “Wait, are you old enough to drink…?” 

The question makes you smile. “Yes, Joel. I’m old enough to drink.” 

“Legally…?”

You giggle. “Yes. I can legally drink. You wanna card me?” 

“No.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Beer?” 

“Sounds great.” 

“Okay.” He nods. 

As you sit on the couch waiting, you become very aware of the situation you’re in. You’ve spoken to Joel one-on-one a handful of times over the last year, but it always happened at a barbecue or a holiday party—places where there were other people around—you’ve never been alone with Joel. This is new territory, and you’re not entirely sure what to expect, especially considering how he was staring at your chest. 

Would you fuck him if given the chance? Yes, zero hesitation. Do you think you have a chance with him? Maybe, and that thrills you. Just two things are working against you: your age and the fact he’s your father’s best friend. Those are two hurdles you’re not entirely sure how to get over, but you’re definitely game to try. 

Your conversations were always friendly in the past, and you’re proud to say you’ve made him laugh a few times. You think you could possibly charm him. What you know for sure is he’ll need to be very aware that you’re interested; otherwise, he won’t even fathom trying anything with you—thank god you’re wearing this dress. Nerves are swirling in your tummy at what could happen tonight, and you’re eager to see where things go. 

Joel returns with two open bottles of beer, handing you one, and you thank him as he takes a seat right next to you. He leans forward to grab the remote and hits play before sitting back and taking a drink. 

He’s so close to you that you get a whiff of his cologne—it has a spiciness to it and some citrusy notes that, when combined, smell amazing. It makes you think he took a shower when he got home from work today—and, suddenly remembering he’s a contractor, you imagine him shirtless and sweaty while using a hammer. The thought causes your mouth to go dry, so you lift your bottle to your lips for a sip, focusing on the TV. 

It’s easy to figure out what he’s watching when you see Josh Hartnett in clothes from the 1940s. 

“Pearl Harbor?” you ask, now holding your drink on your lap, picking at the label with your fingernail. 

“Yeah.” His head turns your way, his beer resting on his thigh. “Have you seen it?” 

Meeting his eyes, you answer, “Oh, yeah.”

He frowns. “Because it’s a girly movie?”

“Um, kinda? The guys are pretty easy on the eyes, and the story is interesting. I wouldn't say it’s super girly. Sure, it’s a romance, but there’s so much action and drama about the war in it.” 

“The back of the DVD said nothin’ about it bein’ a romance.”

“Are you enjoying it, at least?” you ask. 

He sighs and looks back at the television. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then enjoy it! If anyone asks what we watched, I’ll tell them Die Hard.” You lightly pat his thigh closest to you, feeling the muscles tense under your palm. 

His gaze returns to you. “You’ve seen Die Hard?”

“Yes. A few times.” 

Because it’s your dad’s favorite movie. 

His upper body slightly turns your way, his arm going behind you on the couch. The closeness and the attention he’s giving you make your skin heat. 

“I want you to settle somethin’ my brother Tommy and I disagree on—have you met Tommy?” 

“Once.” At a barbecue. He didn’t catch your attention like Joel did. “What am I settling?”

“Do you think Die Hard is a Christmas movie?”

“What…?”

“Tommy is fuckin’ convinced that Die Hard is a Christmas movie, and I say it’s just another action flick. A good one, but definitely not a Christmas movie.”

It takes you a second to process what he asked. 

“I mean,” you start, “it takes place on Christmas Eve, at a Christmas party, and I’d say it’s a Christmas miracle that John McClane happened to be there to save the day. So, yeah, it’s totally a Christmas movie.” 

“You’re fuckin’ with me. Just ‘cause it takes place on Christmas Eve at a Christmas party doesn’t mean it’s a Christmas movie.” 

You point the neck of your beer at him. “You forgot John McClane being a Christmas miracle. Makes sense to me that it’s a Christmas movie.” 

He takes a deep breath. “So, are you tellin’ me that—what the fuck is that movie called?” His eyes leave you as he thinks, trying to remember the name. “Lethal Weapon!” He looks at you again. “So, you’re tellin’ me that Lethal Weapon would also be a Christmas movie? Have you seen that one?” 

Yep, with your father. 

“I have, and yeah, it’s a Christmas movie. You’ve got drug dealers using a Christmas tree business as a front, Christmas is mentioned all throughout, they use a bunch of Christmas songs, and it ends at Christmas dinner. Absolutely a Christmas movie.” 

“Say you’re messin’ with me, darlin’. You know what a Christmas movie is, right? 

“Yeah, you’ve got the heavy hitters—It’s a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Story, A Christmas Carol—then those stop-motion ones that are delightful. I’d put Die Hard and Lethal Weapon in the same category as Home Alone.”

“Why the hell do you think Home Alone is a Christmas movie?” 

“It’s set during the holiday season, and there’s a ton of Christmas imagery and music. Plus, you’ve got Kevin going on a similar journey as the main character in It’s a Wonderful Life where, in the end, he realizes how much he loves and needs his family—sounds pretty Christmas-y to me.” 

His jaw clenches, and it’s seconds before he inhales deeply and looks back at the TV. 

“Son of a bitch,” he sighs, shaking his head. “They’re fuckin’ Christmas movies.” He takes a long drink of his beer. 

You grin. “They are indeed,” you reply and pat his thigh again. 

His bottle lowers, and he looks over at you. “Even though you somehow made a dumbass like Tommy make sense, you’re definitely better company than him. He’d never let me live this down.” 

He’s visibly relaxed, and you have, too. The fact he’s enjoying you being there has calmed your nerves, and you’re having a great time talking to him. Plus, he’s nice to look at.

“Then it’ll be our secret,” you say. “Like how we’re totally watching Die Hard right now, and not—” Your eyes go to the TV, and they widen. “—the one sex scene in Pearl Harbor.” It’s nothing too risque and honestly kind of lame. 

Joel looks, too. “They’re just rollin’ around on the ground…” 

“It’s PG-13, Joel. I don’t know what you’re expecting from a movie where they can only say fuck once, and titties are prohibited.” 

His head turns your way. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he says, and when your eyes land on his, you find that he’s smiling—your heart skips a beat. 

“A good something or a bad something?” 

“A good somethin’.” 

You share his expression. “You’re something else, too.”

“A good somethin’ or a bad somethin’?”

“A very good something.”

His eyes darken, and suddenly, his attention returns to the movie. Joel clears his throat, then chugs the rest of his beer, leaning forward to set the empty bottle on the coffee table. 

When he sits back, his arm is still behind you on the top of the couch, and he scoots the tiniest bit your way to have your bodies touching. 

It’s clear that there’s a shift to the energy in the room, and the tension becomes palpable—he likes you, and you think there’s a possibility he more than likes you with how close he is. The thought has your heart pounding, and you’re unsure what to do next. You’ve only been with boys your own age, and Joel is so much older and more experienced. 

The panic has you blurting out, “Are you seeing anyone?” Then, backpedaling, “Not that it’s any of my business, so don’t feel obligated to answer.” 

He looks at you, and you keep staring at the TV, almost wishing the floor would swallow you whole. 

“Why do you wanna know?” 

“I’m nosy.” 

He huffs in amusement. “You only wanna know ‘cause you’re nosy?” 

“That’s what I said.” 

“No other reason?” 

“Can’t think of any.” 

“Okay—no, I’m not seein’ anyone. What about you? You got a boy back in Houston worryin’ about you?” 

“Nope.” 

“Really?” The genuine surprise in his voice has your head turning to see the matching expression. 

“What’s so shocking about that?”

He frowns. “I beg your pardon, darlin’. It just doesn’t make much sense that someone as pretty and fun as you doesn’t have a line of boys waitin’ their turn to take you out.” 

Those butterflies in your stomach are flapping around again. 

“Not really.” You shrug. “Plus, the guys my age usually only want sex but aren’t very, um, giving, if you know what I mean.”

Now he looks grumpy. “Selfish boys,” he grumbles, and it makes you smile. 

“So, not an issue with someone older like you. Good to know.” You squeeze his thigh and keep speaking so he can’t reply, “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you single?” 

For some reason, he can’t look at you now, focusing on your hand. He reaches across his body to grab yours with his larger one, staring at your fingers. He lets out a long, weary sigh, his thumb rubbing against each of your dark blue-painted fingernails. 

“Women don’t particularly like that Sarah is the most important person in my life and my top priority…”

“But she’s your daughter, she should be your top priority.” 

“That’s the logic, but they want me all to themselves and don’t like sharing.” 

“Joel?” 

His face lifts to meet your gaze. 

“Yeah?” 

“You’ve dated some truly shitty women.” 

He smiles. “I guess I have. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve given up on datin’. It’s just a waste of time.” 

“That is such a shame.” 

His dark eyes get even darker. “You’re trouble.” 

“Why am I trouble?” 

His eyebrow arches. “Your daddy would kill me.” 

Your brain short-circuits for a second as you take in the statement—he’s into you, he’s really into you. Now, what are you going to do?

“Don’t you remember, Joel?” you ask and move to put your beer on the table. When you sit back, you cuddle a little closer into his side. “You were worried about me driving home in the dark, so you offered me your guest room—we watched Die Hard, then turned in for the night. You’re a stand-up guy for keeping your friend’s daughter safe.” 

His eyes move from yours to your mouth, his hand coming up to cradle the side of your face—his palm is so big his fingertips almost reach the back of your head. He starts leaning in, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought that he’s going to kiss you, and you stop breathing when his lips are only a hair’s breadth away from yours.

And then he pauses. 

“Tell me why you really came here tonight,” he rasps. 

That confuses you, your brows pulling together, and you sit back to see his face. “I did? I needed to see if you had a spare key to my dad’s house.” 

His eyes are on yours. “Bullshit—there’s no way this just happened to be the last outfit you had.” He looks directly at your tits. 

“It is if you wait super last minute to do your laundry, and I told you, I have other clothes at my dad’s. Why do you think I came over here?” 

His gaze goes back to yours. “With that dress you’re wearin’ and how you keep lookin’ at me, for a lot more than needin’ a key.” 

“You thought I came over here to seduce you…?”

“Yeah…?”

“Wow.” You gently pat his cheek. “You think I’m way bolder than I actually am—me coming here and the outfit was not premeditated.” You shake your head. 

His eyes round, and you’d think he was burned by how quickly his hand leaves you and how he moves away a little to put space between you. “Fuck, have I been readin’ this wrong?” 

You scoot to have yourself against him again. “The assumption I came here specifically to seduce you was very wrong. But you’re right that I definitely want you to fuck me, Joel.” 

“Shit,” he breathes out and scrubs a palm over his face. “You’re gonna get me in so much trouble.” 

Turning his way, you rub your hand along his jeans-covered thigh. “No, I’m not,” you tell him. “Stop thinking, and kiss me.” 

His hand lowers. “Not thinkin’ is gonna get me killed.” 

“Not thinking is going to get you a blow job and pussy.” You press your palm between his legs over where you can feel he’s already hardening. “Hell, I’ll sweeten the deal—you can come anywhere you want.”

His eyes go wide. “Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you smile. His reaction makes you brave. 

“Tell me you don’t want this, and we’ll go back to watching the movie and pretend nothing happened. Or—and I like this option more—you kiss me, and we’ll go as far as you’re willing to go.” Your hand moves up to hold his cheek, and it’s a good sign when he leans into your touch as you stare into his eyes. “But I’m going to make myself crystal clear, Joel. I want you—badly.  You’re beyond sexy, and the fact you’re older and have a lot more experience than me is a big turn-on. I’d love to know what good sex is like for once and maybe have you teach me some things.” You shrug your shoulder. “It’s up to you, though. Just know I’m more than willing.” 

His brown eyes squeeze shut. “Lord help me,” he says under his breath. A second passes, and then he’s looking at you. “Fuck it—I’m already goin’ to hell.” Joel’s large palms grab your face, pulling you in to crush his lips against yours, muffling your surprised sound. 

This kiss is unlike any you’ve experienced before. You’re used to overeager boys practically shoving their tongues down your throat the first chance they get, yet here’s Joel claiming your lips—you can feel his every want and his desire for you with how thoroughly he kisses you. The soft pillow of his mouth moves with yours, his scent filling your nose—hints of the beer he drank and his spicy cologne imprinting this moment in your mind. Your eyes flutter closed, and your head goes dizzy from the arousal igniting in your belly. 

Just one kiss and you know you’re ruined for anyone else. 

His arms go around you, and he mouths at your chin. “Come here,” he says against your skin. “Get in my lap.” 

You do as you’re told, bunching up the bottom of your dress at your waist and moving to straddle his thighs. His hands go under your clothes to grab your ass, and he’s so surprised to feel bare skin he leans back with the confused expression you’re becoming intimately familiar with. 

“You really didn’t come over just to fuck me?” he asks. His palms wander, and you know he’s discovered your thong when he hooks a thumb under its stretchy waistband—they were the last clean pair of underwear you had. 

“I really didn’t.” You’re curious about something. “But if I had, what are the chances that I would’ve succeeded…?” 

“With this dress and a little convincin’? Pretty good.”

You smile. “Really?” 

“Yeah. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful and smart. I know this is a bad idea, and it’ll probably bite me in the ass later, but I’m so fuckin’ lonely, and you’re just too damn temptin’ to pass up.” 

The truth is clear in his eyes and makes you kiss him—your fingers comb into the hair at the back of his head, finding it softer than you thought it’d be. It starts off slow and tender, just lips to lips, until Joel deepens it, the tip of his tongue making it past your lower lip. Hearing that he’s lonely tugs at your heart, and you want to do everything you can to make that loneliness disappear. Things start to heat up, and all you can do is follow his lead, moaning as he explores your mouth with his tongue. With his palms on your backside, he helps you rock your hips, grinding yourself against his hard cock beneath his jeans, rubbing your clit just right to fan the flames growing in your core. 

When you finally need to come up for air, his hand grips your chin to turn your head as you pant, Joel kissing and nipping at your skin from the base of your neck up—tingles wash down your spine when he nibbles on your jaw. He gently bites your earlobe, and you gasp when his hot breath tickles your ear. 

He huskily whispers into it, “You want me?” His hand fondles your breast. 

“Yes.” 

“I can touch you?” 

“Anywhere.” 

“I need you to be a good girl and tell me when you do and don’t like things—understand?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good girl,” he purrs. 

The way those two words make your cunt clench has you moaning, ”Fuck.”

He easily unzips the back of your dress, tugging the garment up and over your head, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor. You’re sitting astride his lap, the dark pools of his eyes taking in your mostly naked body, his big hands massaging your bra-covered breasts. It’s surprising that being under his gaze, you don’t immediately feel self-conscious, and you think that has to do with how he’s looking at you—the desire and appreciation clear as he admires you.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, nodding towards what he’s touching. 

“Yes.” 

He sits up straighter, and it’s quick work for him to get your bra off, it landing on top of your dress. He’s focused on your tits, holding them in his palms, weighing them. He leans forward, sucking your nipple into his mouth, and the sudden shock of pleasure has your breath catching in your throat, your fingers grabbing handfuls of his shirt for something to hold onto. When he grazes his teeth over the stiff bud, your entire body shivers—your panties have a wet spot from your pussy leaking your arousal for him. He gives your other breast the same attention, leaving your skin shiny from spit when he comes off of it with a wet pop to look at you. 

“Lie down on the couch, baby.” He pats the empty seat next to him. “Your head all the way at the other end.” 

He doesn’t have to ask you twice. You scramble out of his lap, the couch’s leather creaking as you crawl over to where he instructed and sit back on your elbows to see what’s happening. Joel grunts as he gets up to stand, watching in interest when he squeezes the noticeable bulge at the front of his jeans. His arm goes behind his head to grab his shirt, pulling it up and off of his body to bare his torso. 

At seeing so much of his golden skin, your jaw goes slack—his freckled chest is so broad, tapering down to his trim waist, his abs showing a little bit of muscle definition you think is from doing manual labor and not working out. Your eyes fixate on the happy trail of hair below his belly button that disappears beneath the waistband of his jeans.

“Sure could get used to you lookin’ at me like that.” 

That has your attention snapping up to his face, where you find him smirking, and you close your mouth. 

“Sorry,” you apologize, your eyes darting away from him. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry about, darlin’. Makes me feel pretty fuckin’ great about the shape I’m in.” 

You look at him again. “Hate to break it to you, babe, but you’re in great shape and so hot—you’re really down to fuck me?” You point at yourself. 

He kneels on the sofa by your feet, his hand on the back of it to steady himself.

“Darlin’, if I didn’t know your daddy, and you were a stranger I met in a bar, I’d bring you home in a heartbeat. I feel like a real lucky son of a bitch that someone as young and pretty as you has any interest in an old guy like me.” He lifts one of your legs and gently kisses the inside of your ankle, the sweetness of it making you melt a little. 

“Oh, I’m very interested in you.” 

“Is that so?” he asks and spreads open your legs. He crawls over you, and you lie back, Joel nestling his hips between your thighs for you to feel how hard he is as he dips his head, kissing up the column of your throat—the nerves in your stomach flutter wildly. 

“Yes,” you whisper and need to touch him, wrapping your arms around his torso to press your palms against the warm skin on his shoulders—his body shudders, a rumbling groan coming from his chest. 

You squeak in surprise when his lips are suddenly on yours, kissing you hard. 

He takes over all of your senses—he’s all you see, he’s all you feel, he’s all you taste, he’s all you hear, he’s all you smell. It’s him, and him alone—his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth, his weight on top of you. Your fingers thread into his hair, moaning as he takes over your very world, reveling in this feeling of being wanted. 

His lips leave yours, both of you breathing a little heavier. His teeth gently sink into your chin before kissing along the underside of your jaw. 

He speaks into your skin, his words muffled, “I’m very interested in you, too. I shouldn’t be, but I am.” His mouth ends up at your ear, and he quietly asks, “Can I eat your pussy?” 

“Oh.” The question surprises you. “I’m usually the one who asks. Do you want me to blow you first?” There was always a quid pro quo when it came to oral. 

His head lifts to look you in the eye. 

“Darlin’?”

“Yes, Joel?” 

“You’ve been with some truly shitty boys.” 

It makes you laugh, and he smiles. 

“Ain’t that the truth,” you reply. 

“It should always be ladies first—may I?” 

What a gentleman. 

“Absolutely.” 

“Good,” he says and pecks you on the lips. 

He doesn’t immediately move off of you, and it catches you off guard. Instead, his mouth blazes a trail, kissing down your body—your neck, your chest, and your belly. This is when your self-consciousness rears its ugly head. Joel is getting up close and personal with your imperfections—your scars, stretch marks, cellulite, all those little details you normally kept hidden in the safety of dark rooms or under shirts when you hooked up with someone. Now, you’re basically naked, the lamp is on, and he can see it all, which makes you feel uneasy. 

He kisses just above your belly button, then below it, going lower and lower until he places one last kiss on your panties, over your mound. He sits up on his knees, tracing the lines and curves of your thighs and hips with his large palms while he drinks you in as you lie there—you have to fight the urge to cover yourself, unable to meet his gaze.

The silence is broken when Joel speaks. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” 

Your eyes seek out his face where you don’t find any deception, but you have to ask, “Really?” 

“Really.” He nods. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.” 

His attention goes to the apex of your thighs, and the pink of his tongue swipes along his bottom lip as if he’s imagining how you’ll taste. He strokes the pad of his thumb over the visible damp spot on your underwear, his other hand squeezing his cock that’s straining in his jeans. 

“I bet you have the prettiest pussy, too,” he says, and gets his fingers under the elastic waistband on your panties, pulling them down and off your legs, the air cool against your now bared skin. He shuffles back a little, then bends forward, spreading your lips open with two fingers as his face hovers over it. You think your heart might beat out of your chest with how fast it’s thudding, your skin feeling so hot. “I fuckin’ knew it, such a pretty pussy,” Joel murmurs. He circles your clit with his thumb, and the pleasure has every muscle in your body tensing and your eyes closing. “You’re gonna taste so good.” 

He loudly groans as he drags the flat of his tongue along your cunt, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking.

“Oh, god,” you moan, your body squirming at how good it feels. 

Joel has to pin down your hips with an arm across them to keep you still, his face buried in your pussy. He goes straight to the source, lapping at your entrance to taste your arousal while the tip of his perfect nose rubs against your bundle of nerves, his facial hair prickling your skin. 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

You’re fucked. 

It’s not even a minute in, and you can already feel your orgasm taking shape low in your belly, the muscles beginning to wind up. If you thought the first kiss ruined you, you know you’re ruined by how eagerly he’s eating you out—who knew this could be so good? You have to wonder how you’ll ever be able to fool around with anyone else when Joel is all you’ll be able to think about or compare it to—this is the only moment doubt invades your mind. You feel like this is all a mistake, but it’s quickly squashed by how unbelievably horny and curious you are. 

His mouth lifts, and you whine at its loss. “Gimme a second,” he pants. “I gotta see how tight you are.” That’s when one of his thick fingers presses to your soaked opening, and he slowly starts to push it inside. 

The slight stretch makes you gasp his name, your fingers clawing at the sofa’s maroon leather.  

“Christ,” Joel says. “You’re squeezin’ me. With how fuckin’ tight you are, I’d think this is your first time.” 

You sit back up on your elbows and open your eyes to look at him. 

“You just have massive fingers, and it’s been a while.” 

His gaze meets yours as he smirks. “Well, I’m gonna loosen you up with my massive fingers, and I think you’ll enjoy it.” 

He doesn’t wait for you to respond. His head dips, flicking his tongue side-to-side against your clit when you feel the sudden pressure of his second digit pushing into you—there’s even more of a stretch and the delicious feeling of being full. You fall back on the couch, tangling your fingers into the brown waves of hair on his head, moans falling unbidden from your lips. His digits crook as they pump in and out of you, sliding along your upper wall when they press into something that elicits white-hot pleasure, making you keen and wiggle under the hold he has on your lower half.

Yeah, you’re totally and completely fucked. 

He’s relentless with his mouth and fingers as you careen toward your end, free-falling in the throes of pleasure. He’s really going to get you off, and you think you might be in love with him. Is that crazy? Falling for the guy you absolutely should not fall for—that you can’t even have any kind of future with—because it’d ruin both of your lives, especially his. 

Why does that make you want him more? 

You definitely understand now why Eve ate the forbidden fruit—the temptation leads to such sweet gratification when you give in. 

He sucks your throbbing clit into his mouth, sweeping his tongue around it, and you can hear the wet squelch of him fucking his fingers into your cunt. Your thighs are trembling—you’re so close, the coil inside you winding tighter and tighter until it snaps, and you’re coming with an unintelligible cry. Your body seizes up, euphoria exploding out from your center, radiating to your fingers and toes. Joel removes his digits, his tongue taking their place to catch every bit of your slick he can get, groaning as he lets no drop go to waste. 

You’ve never come so hard, feeling a little floaty as you ride out your high, your chest heaving heavy breaths. With how shaky your arms and legs are, you’d think you were out in the freezing cold. 

Joel’s mouth comes off of you and he sits up, rubbing his hands along the outside of your legs. 

“Such a good girl for me,” he says. “Was it good?”

“Was it good?” you parrot back at him and push yourself up into a sitting position. “It was more than good, Joel—oh my god, it was amazing.” 

The bottom half of his face glistens in the lamplight, his shiny lips turning up in a smile. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes.”

“You still wanna fuck?” 

“I think I will die if you don’t fuck me.”

He chuckles, and that’s all the answer he needs. He’s off the couch instantly, and you watch as he hurriedly unbuckles his belt and gets his jeans undone, shoving them and his boxers down his legs so fast it makes you giggle. He’s balancing on one foot, peeling off his sock, and you finally get a good look at his dick—it’s hard and bobbing between his legs, the tip flushed red and shiny from precum, and your eyes round at how big he is. 

“Second thoughts?” he asks, taking off his other sock. 

Your gaze rises to his, seeing he’s frowning. “No.” You shake your head. “It’s more, ‘I sure hope that thing fits inside me.’” 

He crookedly smiles, his chest puffing up a little. “It’ll fit—I promise.” And he has the audacity to wink at you. 

Just as quickly as he got off the sofa, he’s getting back on it, kneeling in the space between your spread thighs. His attention is on your pussy, rubbing the tip of himself against your swollen clit and through your wetness. Nerves swirl in your belly, along with arousal, his free hand giving your hip a reassuring squeeze before he’s spitting on his fingers and slicking up his cock. He notches himself at your entrance, and your heart is in your throat as you hold your breath.

“Just relax, baby,” he says. “You can take me.” 

He slowly starts feeding his hard length into you, making you gasp when the fat head breaches your slick cunt, your eyes squeezing shut, your fingers digging into the couch’s leather cushions. A groan rumbles from his throat, and you answer with a drawn-out moan as he burrows his thick cock deep inside you, your tight walls stretching to their limits to accommodate his size. Full doesn’t even begin to describe how stuffed you are—he’s hot inside you, almost searing, and you can feel him pulsing. He bottoms out and goes completely still, his hands on your hips in a bruising grip.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he rasps. “You okay?” His thumbs stroke circles on your skin. 

“Yes.” It comes out as more of a squeak. “I just need a second.” 

“Of course, sweetheart.” 

Darlin’, baby, and now sweetheart when his dick is inside you? Is he trying to make you fall in love with him?

He bends at the waist, one hand on the couch holding up his weight while the other massages your breast, his lips wrapping around your pebbled nipple, the sparks of pleasure going straight to your pussy. Your fingers wind up in his hair; what he’s doing to you has you whimpering at how good it feels and only makes you wetter where you’re joined. He pulls each of your legs up to rest on his ribs while his mouth moves higher, kissing your sternum and up the arch of your neck, sucking on your pulse point and making you squirm underneath him. 

His hands end up on either side of your head, his lips leaving behind a wet streak of kisses along the hinge of your jaw to finally ghost over yours—you can feel his breaths and smell your musk. He’s so close it wouldn’t take much more for your mouths to meet. 

His nose nudges yours. “Need more time?” he whispers. 

Enough has passed that you don’t feel as overwhelmed. You slide your palms up his back to his shoulders. 

“No,” you answer just as quietly. “You can move.” 

He pulls out almost all the way and pushes back in as his mouth claims yours, muffling your sounds when he sets up a rhythm of long, hard strokes. You’re gone—all rational thoughts go out the window, and the only thing you can think about is how his cock is moving in and out of you. It’s so distracting you’re having trouble kissing Joel back because your brain keeps screaming, ‘so big, so full, so good.’ 

You’re feverishly clutching at his shoulder blades, your nails leaving crescent moon imprints and scratches you’re sure will bleed on his golden skin, Joel moaning into your mouth. It surprises you when you feel the familiar tension of another orgasm making itself known deep in your core, the pressure rising with each thrust, the angle of them causing him to slide against spots you never knew existed, and you don’t ever want this to end. 

His lips leave yours, pressing his forehead to your cheek. He’s breathing hard, sweat beginning to bead on his skin as he keeps the same pace. 

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he pants. “Fuck, I’ll never get enough of this pussy. Just wanna stay inside it until my dick is all it knows.” 

Your legs are quivering, your body is burning up, and you can’t get enough of how fucking good this feels. One time—one time—and you’re addicted, you’re drunk on the pleasure and will do anything—anything—for this to happen again. 

“It’s yours,” you gasp. “Oh, god, it’s yours!” 

His lips move to your ear, huskily asking, “It’s mine, baby? Your pussy is mine? I’m fuckin’ ya that good?” 

You’re so out of it and lost in the lust you start babbling, “Yes, it’s yours—fuck, ruin me,” you whine. 

“That’s what you want, for me to ruin your perfect little pussy?”

“Please—make me feel it. Make me ache to have your cock inside me again. Make me yours.” 

He growls, and you think you’ve said the wrong thing because he’s immediately pulling out, your eyes springing open in time to see him sit up on his knees. 

His big hands grab hold of your waist. “Flip,” is all he says, and you find yourself getting manhandled onto your front, Joel tugging you up onto your hands and knees. He wastes no time sheathing himself back inside you, pushing in so deep that your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl.

Joel’s hips are flush against your ass, the full length of him seated all the way inside of you—you can’t think, your mouth open in a silent cry. He’s filling you to the absolute brim, and it becomes evident your cup has truly runneth over. 

He was right, though. It did fit. 

A shuddery breath escapes you. He only allows you a moment to get used to the new fullness before he’s pulling out until just the tip of him remains and snapping his hips forward hard enough it knocks the air from your lungs—this is how you learn what it’s like to really be fucked, and fucked good. 

His fingers dig into the skin on your waist, pulling you back as he thrusts forward at a pace that has you lightheaded, stars dancing behind your closed eyelids each time he presses against that heavenly spot inside you. 

Warmth grows in your belly, the sounds from the TV overshadowed by the filthy cacophony of skin hitting skin and the audible wetness of his cock working in and out of your used cunt—he’s grunting with each stroke, your moans stuttering from the onslaught.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks through gritted teeth, emphasizing each word with a hard thrust. 

It’s a struggle to gather your thoughts and form a response with how good he’s fucking you. 

A palm lands on the side of your ass in a loud smack, the sweet sting causing you to clench around him and whimper. 

“Answer me, sweetheart,” he says. “Is this what you wanted?” 

All you can gasp out is a single word. “Yes!” 

“Am I fuckin’ you good?” 

“Yes!” 

He’s pounding into you at a near-brutal pace, the fire inside you only getting hotter as each second passes. 

“Look at me,” he orders. 

It takes everything in you to turn your head and look over your shoulder. Joel is a sight to behold—a flush rising from his chest to his cheeks, the sweat on his skin making it glisten under the lamp’s light, and his hair sticking wetly to his forehead. His eyes are heavy-lidded and glazed over, his jaw clenched. 

He slows, his gaze on yours. 

“You wanna be mine?” he asks. 

“Yes.” 

The moment your answer leaves your lips, he’s blanketing your back, holding himself up with a hand on the couch, the other going under you to palm your breast and tweak your stiff nipple with his fingers. 

He lightly bites your earlobe, his facial hair scratching your cheek when he kisses it. 

“I’m gonna make you come,” he says through heavy breaths. “Then I’m gonna fuck you full of me—you want that?” 

A shiver moves through you, and you gulp. 

“Yes.” 

“Good girl.” 

His hand smooths down your front over your stomach to between your legs, where he starts circling your clit with two fingers. It’s like a live wire along your spine, electricity sparking in your core—that added to the sensations of his cock splitting you open and pushing in and out of you has you rocketing toward your release. 

“You gonna come for me?” His hot breaths fan over your ear. “You gonna let me feel you come all over my cock? Come on, let me have it—come for me.” 

Joel’s bent over you, fucking into you harder and faster, his fingers deliciously swirling around your throbbing bud as he grunts in your ear with every thrust, all of it driving you higher and higher to your end. 

You’re so worked up that it doesn’t take much to have you falling over the edge—the muscles in your belly pull tight, your orgasm ripping through you, gasping Joel’s name. He sucks in a breath when your pussy clamps down on him, then loudly groans, continuing to fuck you through your high, and doesn’t stop—his fingers keep up their assault on your clit, and his hips snap into you in quick, short bursts that extend your high. You come, and come, and come to the point your arms give out, and your body shakes and twitches from all of the pleasure coursing through it. 

When you think you can’t take any more, relief washes over you that Joel follows suit. With one last thrust, he buries himself all the way to the hilt inside you as he falls forward, his front framing your back, his teeth sinking into the meat of your shoulder. He comes with a dirty, rumbling groan—you feel his dick thicken and pulse, hot spurts of his spend filling you. He grinds his hips, fucking it as deep as it will go, then stills.  

The movie’s ending credits are playing, hearing the music and your and Joel’s ragged breaths as you both come down. He’s at the same awkward angle as you, with your hips up and your faces down—his sweaty chest is pressed to your back, your bodies sticking together everywhere they touch. It’s not the most comfortable position, but with how your limbs tremble, you’re not entirely sure you can even move. 

You asked him to ruin you, and oh boy, did he deliver—you’re absolutely, positively ruined. It kills you that after whatever this night is, you’ll have to go back to subpar sex with guys who couldn’t find the clit if they were given a map and detailed directions. This is the second time tonight that you fear you’ve made a grave mistake hooking up with Joel, and the post-sex clarity is not helping the situation at all. 

What were you thinking?

That’s easy; you weren’t. Or, at the very least, you weren’t thinking with your brain. Your pussy took the lead on this one, and it looks like she’s gotten you into a bit of a situation. 

Your thoughts are interrupted when Joel’s arm wraps around your middle, and he turns you two onto your sides, the couch just barely wide enough to fit you both. 

“Tha’s better,” Joel slurs, nuzzling his face into your hair. His hand over your stomach feels around until he finds your smaller one, lacing your fingers together and holding it to your chest—oh, he’s cuddling with you. It’s unexpected and nice. You close your eyes and enjoy this taste of intimacy. 

Many minutes pass before he mumbles something you can’t make out. 

“I’m sorry,” you start and are immediately embarrassed by how hoarse and scratchy your voice sounds from all the sounds you made tonight. You clear your throat and try again, “I’m sorry—what did you say?” 

He turns his face so it’s out of your hair. 

“I asked if you wanna stay over,” he says. 

You smile. “Are you getting forgetful, Joel? You said I could stay over when I got here.” 

“Fuckin’ smartass,” he grumbles, and you giggle. “What I meant was, do you wanna stay in my room? With me,” he clarifies. 

“Only if you’re okay that I sleep naked—I’m not wearing my dress to bed.” 

“Was kinda hopin’ you’d be naked.” He kisses your shoulder. “But if you’re more comfortable wearin’ somethin’, I can get you one of my t-shirts—it’s no big deal.” 

“It baffles me that you’re single.” 

“Why?”

“Uh, because you’re incredibly sweet, amazing in bed, a great father, very handsome, hardworking, and just an all-around catch. If I had the opportunity, and you know, there wasn’t the elephant in the room—” The fact he’s much older than you and one of your dad’s best friends. “—I’d date you in a heartbeat. If you ever give dating a shot again, you’re going to make one lucky woman very happy.” 

“Fuck,” Joel groans, letting go of your hand to press his palm to his face. “What the hell am I doin’?”

That makes your stomach drop, and you frown—he’s regretting everything, and you can’t blame him. The post-sex clarity is a real bitch sometimes. 

“Stressing for no reason,” you reply. You’re pretty sure you can walk, so you get up from the sofa, ignoring how wobbly your legs feel and his come leaking down your thigh. “Don’t you remember, Joel?” you ask, looking toward the floor for your clothes. “You let me stay the night ‘cause you were worried about me driving home in the dark.” You carefully bend down to pick up your thong, followed by your bra and dress. “We watched Die Hard,” you continue, straightening to stand. “Then turned in for the night to our respective bedrooms. You’re a real stand-up guy for caring so much about your friend’s daughter’s safety.” 

You can’t even look at him, focusing instead on the TV where the Pearl Harbor DVD’s menu is on screen. 

“Stop that.” 

“Stop what?” 

“Tryin’ to pretend nothin’ happened.” 

“You clearly wish nothing happened, so nothing happened—where’s the bathroom?” You need to clean up, and you’re tempted to just leave altogether. 

“Up the stairs, second door on the right—when the hell did I say I wished nothin’ happened?” 

“You didn’t have to. Your ‘what the hell am I doin’?’ was enough for me to get it.” You hug your clothes closer to your body. “Anyways, thanks for tonight. I think I’m just gonna use the bathroom and get out of here. I don’t want you to worry, so I’ll stay at that cheap motel by the highway.” The sign said it was twenty-something dollars a night, and you can swing that. You start heading toward the stairs. 

“Hey, stop.” You don’t. You keep walking, willing the unshed tears in your eyes not to fall. 

Why are you so upset? You’re well aware that this can only be a one-time thing. It was something fun and sexy where you got to fuck the older, unattainable guy you’ve been crushing on for a while. It wasn’t anything serious, and couldn’t be anything serious, because there’s no future for you two together. Not when he’s a good friend of your father’s. That kills any chance of having a relationship with Joel. 

What hurts is he regrets it and wishes it never happened—you’re a mistake, and who wants to be someone’s mistake? 

His heavy footsteps sound behind you. “Darlin’, stop,” he says again, and you continue ignoring him. Fingers latch around your bicep and lightly tug. “Please, stop for a second. Talk to me.” Finally, you do as he’s requested, standing still in front of the staircase. He turns you to look at him in his big brown eyes, his hands holding your arms. 

“I don’t wish nothin’ happened,” he says. “You were talkin’ about how if things were different, you’d date me, but since they are the way they are, you won’t. I was thinkin’ to myself ‘what the hell am I doin’ wishin’ you’d change your mind,’ when I know it’s for the best.”

“Oh—really?” 

Hope swells in your chest, butterflies fluttering around in your tummy. 

“Yeah.” He nods. “Tell me you want nothin’ more to do with me, and I’ll grab you a towel and some of my clothes so you can wash up and retire to the guest room unless you’re truly set on stayin’ in a motel. In that case, I’ll pay for your room somewhere safer and much nicer, so I know you’ll be okay. Or—and I like this option more—you kiss me, and I’ll take you up to my bedroom so we can shower, either together or separately, whatever you’re comfortable with. Then we can get into my bed where we can talk and figure things out.” 

It sounds like he doesn’t want this to be a one-time thing, either, and that makes you so happy you let your clothes fall to the floor to throw your arms around his neck, crashing your lips to his. Joel groans, his arm sliding behind your back, hugging you closer to him, his other hand cradling your cheek. Suddenly, he’s backing you up until your heels hit the first step, and he guides you to sit on a higher one, Joel kneeling on a lower stair to be at the right height that his hips slot between your thighs when he lays you back. He licks into your mouth, deepening the kiss, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades. 

With how good he made you feel tonight, how wanted, you need more of him. There’s a looming fear in the back of your mind that this is too good to be true—that you’ll never be with him like this again, which makes you desperate for him. Your hand snakes its way between your bodies, taking his half-hard cock into your palm, slowly stroking it—a low rumble comes from the back of Joel’s throat. He gets his hand to the juncture of your thighs, sliding his fingers through the puffy lips of your sex, gathering your arousal and his come on his fingertips to rub at your swollen clit. 

“You’re mine,” he says into your lips. 

“I’m yours,” you answer. 

This is how you end up fucking on the stairs, Joel thrusting into you at a pace that has your toes curled and your fingers gripping his ass—your spine tingles from his mouth exploring your neck, mapping out the spots that make you gasp and moan, and you’re in heaven. 

A door slams shut on the other side of the railing, and your eyes fly open.

“Hey, Asshole!” a man calls. 

Joel’s hand covers your mouth, and you watch the intruder walk through the dining room to the kitchen without seeing you. 

“I brought over pizza so you can stop bein’ a sad and lonely sonofabitch!” 

Joel immediately pulls out and gets off you, using his strength to help you flip over. “Upstairs,” he whispers, tapping you on the hip, and you go as quickly and quietly as you can with Joel following. 

You make it to the second-story landing, and he grabs your hand, tugging you all the way down the hall into what you know is his bedroom by how it smells like him. He closes the door and locks it before beelining to his dresser, roughly pulling out one drawer from which he grabs a burgundy t-shirt, then another that he gets a pair of stretchy gray sweatpants. 

“Is this a dress?!” Is yelled from downstairs. “Do you have a girl over?! Who’d wanna fuck your sorry ass?!”

Surprisingly, the clothes in Joel’s hands are not for him; he shoves them into your arms and ushers you over to his bathroom. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, flicking on the light, the fan automatically turning on. “It’s Tommy. Stay in here, and I’ll kick him out.” Obnoxiously loud footsteps are coming up the stairs, and he has to take a deep breath, his eyes to the sky like he’s praying God will smite his brother right this second. “Lord, give me strength,” he breathes. 

“Where would you even meet a girl?!” Tommy asks from the hallway. “All you do is work—you never go out.” 

Joel pecks you on the lips. “I’ll be right back—stay in here,” he tells you again, and this time, he leaves, shutting the door behind him. 

There’s banging on the bedroom door, and your ears perk up as you put on the clothes. 

“Go home, Tommy,” he says. 

“Not until I know who this pretty dress belongs to.” 

“Give me that—it’s none of your fuckin’ business. Leave.” 

“Come on, Joel—we know the same people. Did you finally give in to Nikki? She’s wanted to go out with you for a long fuckin’ time.” 

“No, and it’s still none of your fuckin’ business who I have in the house I pay for. So, get goin’, or I’m gonna make you go.” 

“You can be a real dick, Joel. Why are you bein’ so fuckin’ secretive?”

“Do I ask about who you take home from the bar?” 

“No, but—”

“Exactly,” Joel interrupts. “I don’t give a fuck what you do in your spare time, and I sure as hell don’t need to tell you what I do in mine, so leave, Tommy—I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.” 

“With how fuckin’ grouchy you are, I don’t think you got laid at all—I’m gonna get goin’ ‘cause you clearly need the company of a woman. Bye, mystery woman with the pretty dress hidin’ in Joel’s bathroom!” he yells. “Hopefully you can cheer this fucker up! Enjoy the pizza!” 

It goes quiet, and you think Joel left the room, too. You can’t go anywhere, so you decide to take in your surroundings—the bathroom is cleaner than you’d expect from a single man, you have to put the toilet seat down when you pee, and as you’re washing your hands, you notice there’s only one toothbrush in a cup. 

You know you shouldn’t snoop, but you pull open the medicine cabinet and find an extra tube of toothpaste, some Tylenol, Ibuprofen, a thing of pain relief cream, then a shelf with a few medicine bottles that intrigues you—prescription pain pills, antidepressants, and heartburn medication. No red flags, but you’re a little worried about how much pain he’s in. You close the cabinet, and soft knocking on the bathroom door makes you jump. 

“You can come out,” Joel’s muffled voice says. “He’s gone.” 

Walking over to the door, you open it, Joel leaning against the doorframe in a white t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants he must’ve put on before talking to Tommy. 

He sighs. “So, that was my brother.” 

“Seems nice—if I remember correctly, he’s younger, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“That explains how annoying he is.” 

He smiles, and an amused huff leaves him. “Yeah, he’s annoyin’ alright.” 

“We have the house to ourselves?” 

“We do—I walked him out myself.” 

You grin. “Wonderful.” You grab a fistful of his shirt. “Because I think you said something about us showering together, and I’d like to do that right now, then go eat pizza—I’ve somehow worked up an appetite,” you tell him and pull him forward; he happily comes your way with a smirk. 

“Worked up an appetite, huh?” he asks, his eyes on your mouth. 

“Yes. No clue how.” 

He closes the distance, his lips almost touching yours, when he replies, “Let me remind you how,” and kisses you. 

An hour later, you’re walking down the stairs clean and in your borrowed clothes. 

“Can we eat then go to bed?” you ask, through a yawn. “I had classes today, and that long ass drive, plus all the sex. I’m so damn tired.” 

Joel’s behind you in just his sweatpants. 

“I’m fuckin’ tired, too. That sounds good to me.” 

The only lights on downstairs are the lamps in the living room. You walk into the dark kitchen, Joel flipping on the light as he follows, and you head for the stove where the pizza is, popping open the box to see it’s pepperoni. 

“I’ll grab us some plates,” Joel says, rubbing your upper arms. He kisses the top of your head before stepping over to a cabinet.

Turning around, you’re about to ask Joel where the cups are when the dining room light comes on, Tommy standing by the switch. You gasp in shock; Joel’s immediate reaction is to grab a knife from the knife block and get between you and the unwanted visitor—it takes him a second to recognize it’s his brother. 

“Goddammit, Tommy!” Joel shouts and slams the butcher knife onto the countertop. “Are you tryin’ to get yourself killed?!”

“No,” his brother answers, shaking his head, and he looks a little too amused. “But you sure the hell are! Her?!” He points at you and has the audacity to laugh. “Oh, god, Joel,” he says through his glee and grabs the back of a chair, his other hand on his chest as he chuckles. “Her daddy is gonna kill you—you’re fucked!”

Joel sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, perching a palm on his hip. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he says. “I’m a dead man walking.” 

“You are!” Tommy calms down, and his shit-eating grin annoys you. “What the hell were you thinkin’?” he asks. “I mean, I know what you were thinkin’. I just can’t get over you not only robbin’ the fuckin’ cradle, but bangin’ your best buddy’s daughter. How long has whatever this is—” He gestures at you both. “—been goin’ on?” 

“It just happened tonight—I don’t need you lecturin’ me on right and wrong. I know it’s a fucked up situation.” 

A fucked up situation? Ouch. The comment has you crossing your arms over your chest, staring at the floor. 

“Fucked up is right, and I’ve got no fuckin’ idea how you’re gonna get out of it. Her daddy finds out about this, and he’s gonna shoot you deader than dead.” 

“I told you I didn’t want you lecturin’ me.” 

Tommy puts his hands up. “Hey, I’m not lecturin’. I’m just statin’ the facts. I wanna make sure you know this thing between you two could get you killed. You’ve got a daughter, Joel—what would you do in this situation?” 

“Woah,” you interrupt, moving to stand beside Joel—Tommy’s comment about Sarah is a fucking nuke you need to try and hopefully defuse. “First of all, I just want to point out that I am a consenting adult and can fuck whoever I want. Second, I need to set the record straight and say that my dad isn’t going to kill anyone. He’ll be mad as hell if he finds out, but he isn’t going to commit murder because, truth be told, he’s never given a fuck about my life choices. I’d also like to add that this is kinda his fault for not having me visit more often because now Joel and I are pretty much strangers, and this whole thing isn’t as bad as it sounds.” 

“It’s still pretty bad, honey,” Tommy replies, his attention turning to you, smiling. 

“Maybe, but it’s also nobody’s business who I fuck.” 

“Sure, but this person you fucked is one of your daddy’s best friends whose—no offense—way too old for you.” 

“Why does everyone keep callin’ me old?” Joel grumbles. 

Tommy looks at his brother. “‘Cause you are, you old man.” He suddenly looks like he just realized something. “Wait a goddamn minute,” Tommy says. “Joel, are you havin’ a midlife crisis? You’re around the age people have those, right? It’d make sense why you’d risk your life to fuck her.” 

“Get out, Tommy,” Joel replies, pointing toward the front door. “I’ve had enough of you.” 

His younger brother pouts. “‘Cause I called you old?” 

“Out.” 

“Fine.” He slowly starts walking toward the hallway that leads to the front door. “I’ll get out of your hair so the two of you can enjoy the rest of your night. Bye!” 

The door loudly closes as he leaves. 

Well, you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen now. Between the comment about Sarah and the other things that had been said, you wouldn’t be surprised if Joel ends this. You might as well cut your losses and get it over with to save yourself from more heartbreak. 

Your eyes are on the ground, the first tear falling down your cheek. “After all that, I know whatever this is is probably over,” you quietly say. “But is there a chance I can still sleep in your bed with you tonight? And if you’re willing, have you hold me?”

He turns and pulls you into his arms.

“Yeah, you can sleep with me,” he answers and kisses your hair. “But I’m gonna need you to stop.” 

You lean back to look at him with watery eyes. “Stop what?” 

A sad smile is on his lips. “Jumpin’ to conclusions without talkin’ to me. You’ve already got one foot out the door, and I haven’t even opened it.”

“It’s just everything Tommy said.” 

He lightly squeezes your biceps. “Tommy was bein’ a little shit. You were right when you said this isn’t as bad as it sounds, but you gotta be honest with me about somethin’.” 

“What?” you ask.

His hands come up to hold your face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that have fallen. “Are you positive your daddy won’t kill me? I’ve got Sarah to think about, and even though I like you a lot, I’m not gonna risk dyin’ to be happy.” 

The sweetest man and the best father.

You think about it for a second, and the sad truth is you can’t imagine your dad killing anyone for you—he doesn’t love you that much. He doesn’t love you to the same degree that Joel loves Sarah. With how easily Joel grabbed a knife to protect you, there’s no doubt in your mind he’d kill for his daughter without hesitation. 

“He’ll be pissed off, but he isn’t going to kill you. We also don’t need to tell him anything unless this turns into something. We can keep it to ourselves for now.” 

He hums in agreement. “You know, if you wanted, you could start comin’ here to do your laundry...” 

You smile. “How will you explain that to Sarah?” 

“That I’m helpin’ you out, which is true. Plus, I’ve got the guest room.” 

“Uh huh, the guest room that I’ll sleep in?” 

“Yes.” He nods. 

“Alone?” 

“I sleepwalk.” 

You snort. “Stop it.” You playfully push his chest. “Sarah is not gonna believe you sleepwalked into the guest room.” 

He snatches your hand, bringing it up to kiss your knuckles. “Who said anythin’ about Sarah knowin’ I’m in the guest room, or you bein’ in my room for that matter, while she’s sleepin’? There are also nights like tonight she spends with friends.” 

“You really want me to hang out here?”

“Yeah. It’s nice to have company that isn’t Tommy.”

“I believe that. As long as I’m not a bother, I’ll do my laundry here.”

He smiles. “Not a bother, and you can wash your clothes tomorrow and stay another night. You could even stay over Sunday, too, since you have Monday off—you’re more than welcome.”

You loop your arms around his neck. “Yes, Joel. I will spend my long weekend with you.” 

He leans in, brushing his lips against yours. “Good.” 

Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 

[xinganhao]

🍨 svt spoiling their partner.

★ prompt: how ot13 spoils their partner? 🥹🥹🥹 i am just a girl give me treats c/o @shinwonderful

ⓘ established relationship, pet names, fluff. headcanons under the cut. special thanks to @chugging-antiseptic-dye for helping! ♡

🍨 read more?

seungcheol 𖹭 planning dates. he will refuse to let you lift a finger for your day out. everything will be meticulously laid out, finetuned to be something that you'll enjoy. his goal is to lessen the mental load of decision-making and planning; he wants you to be able to focus solely on enjoying the surprise, and he'll break his back to make sure that happens.

jeonghan 𖹭 'parallel play'. even if the two of you might not be interested in the same things, that's okay. he's happiest to spend quality time with you at home, where the two of you are free to do your own thing within eachother's presence. just being in your vicinity already makes him content, and so he plans everything around the two of you getting to explore and share your respective hobbies.

shua 𖹭 acts of service. need help with your taxes? need someone to fill up your tank? he's already on it. he'll say that these are all 'little things', call it the bare minimum, when it's apparent that he makes it a conscious effort to make your day-to-day easier. his brand of spoiling you comes in the form of quietly doing things that will improve your quality of life.

junhui 𖹭 buying clothes you'll like. he can't help it, really. when he sees an article of clothing that he thinks suits your style? when he finds a local brand that shares your advoacy? he's already pulling out his wallet. he likes the idea of dressing you up. nothing makes him happier than knowing you're wearing an outfit that he entirely picked out for you.

soonyoung 𖹭 daily reasons why he loves you. people always joke that he has a bit of a motormouth, so why shouldn't he use it on talking about you, you, you? he's big on words of affirmation, on making sure you never doubt how he feels for you. he'll point out the little and big things that make him adore you, and it's never the same reason twice.

wonwoo 𖹭 indulging your interests. he may not always understand these trends— blind boxes, must-have fashion pieces, et cetera— but he'll never make you feel bad about it. if there's anything that you want, he's already doing everything within his power to get it. his greatest joy is seeing your face light up once he's gotten you your 'priority' item; it's why he keeps doing it in the first place.

jihoon 𖹭 trying new things for you. there's a long list of things that jihoon never thought he'd do, but then he started dating you. time and time again, he willingly goes out of his comfort zone to accompany you on the little adventures and experiences that you ask to go on. he does these things scared, does them anxious, does them begrudgingly,— does them all for you.

seokmin 𖹭 meals he thinks you'll like. he's the type to have dozens of tabs open for homemade recipes dot com. he knows he's an amateur at this, but he's undeterred in trying. whether it's a trending pastry on tiktok or the comfort meal that your mother makes you, he's determined to learn it so you're always eating well.

mingyu 𖹭 getting-to-know card games. he gives as good as he takes, which means mingyu's way is to listen and remember. a night where the two of you can just have deep conversations with no interruptions is his ideal evening. he will know he succeeded if the two of you end up talking until the sun rises, feeling like the hours haven't passed at all.

minghao 𖹭 postcards from tour stops. he loves art and he loves you. his postcards are pocket-sized reminders of those facts, always packaged with a few choice words that are sweet and sincere. his trinkets are very "i-got-you-this-because-it-reminded-me-of-you" in nature, and you know each one was purchased with you at the front of mind.

seungkwan 𖹭 getting you your favorites. he figures he should put his industry connections to use somehow. he's always amused by how happy you get over a rare photocard, signed album, or concert tickets, and so he keeps it up. buying dozens of albums, contacting other labels, bearing the arduous ticketing. your excitement at the end of it makes it all worth it.

vernon 𖹭 producing songs. he hadn't really pegged himself as the making-music-for-the-sake-of-it type until he met you. now, he revels in getting to send you a track that's for your ears only. all the lyrics just seems to flow naturally when it's you inspiring him, and so he sends you works-in-progress with reminders that you're the only intended audience.

chan 𖹭 at-home massages. he's all too familiar with the aches of an ailing body, so he knows exactly how and where to work on you. he always does what he calls 'the works'— a good bath, scented candles, essential oils. he lets you take your time, and he takes his time with you in helping you unwind.

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[fungateshortcakes]

Jealous much?

Pairing: dofp!Logan x fem!teacher!Reader

Summary: What happens when Logan finds the father of one of your students flirting with you after class?

Wordcount: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: Jealous!Logan, established relationship (you are married), flirting, Logan asserting dominance to the guy that thinks he has a chance with you, smitten Logan bc he loves u so much, reader is implied to be 'turned on' once, no use of (y/n), english is not my first language!

_________________

I love love LOVE jealous Logan. Someone (I think it was by @pandapetals) made a fic where Logan and reader were married and a students mother was flirting with Logan, which pissed reader off and she has to show the lady who has that man wrapped around her finger already. That was so YUMMY so this is the Logan-being-jealous counterpart, hope you enjoy!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The end of the school day brought with it a familiar sense of relief and exhaustion. You loved your job, but after spending hours with a classroom full of high-energy students, you were ready to pack up and head to your room in the mansion.

The thought of your shared room and of your husband Logan waiting there brought a small smile to your face. But as you were tidying up your desk, the last few students leaving your classroom, you heard a voice call your name. Your head wiped around as you heard it. “Excuse me, Miss!” At first, you thought it was one of your students, but their voice was too deep to be a teenage boy.

You turned to see Mr. Reed, a tall, polished man with a charming smile. You recognized him immediately. He was the father of one of your more rambunctious students, Jason Reed. He seemed to live in this school, it was weird just how often you saw him around. He attended every single one of the parent evenings you hosted - only yours. And he often sought you out to have a conversation with him and his son. You didn't think too much of it, it was your job after all to answer the parents questions if they had any concerns.

You gave him a friendly wave as he approached. “Oh, hey, Mr. Reed” you greeted warmly, pausing in your steps. "Is there something you needed?

The man gave a casual shrug, slipping his hands into the pockets of his well-tailored suitjacket. “I was hoping to catch you for a moment. My son just won’t stop talking about you. Miss "the-coolest-teacher-ever’” he added with a chuckle, his blue eyes holding a distinct shimmer in them.

You laughed softly. Hearing this went down like honey. You were always happy to know that your students were enjoying your class. You were the teacher you wanted to be since you were a student yourself. The teacher that made other students feel safe, that didn't make them feel like they were pressured and had to deliver a certain level of performance to be good enough "Well, Jason is a great kid. He’s got so much energy. I can barely keep up sometimes, but I’m glad to hear he is liking my classes this far."

“Oh, absolutely. You’ve really made a difference for him” Mr. Reed said, his voice dipping into something smoother, something deeper. “He’s had a hard time adjusting to his mutation, you know. And the abilities that come with it. But since he’s been in your class, I can tell he’s a lot happier. More confident" he praised you highly, teeth bared in a dashing smile to you. “And that’s all thanks to you. I don’t know how you do it, managing a class full of kids with various mutations and powers they can't quite control yet. It’s impressive.”

You waved your hand dissmisvely at the single father, giggling bashfully. You weren't used to such direct praise from parents, not even from him. “I'm flattered, but it’s not just me" you replied modestly. “Mr. Xavier has build a great support system over the years.”

Mr. Reed clicked his tounge at your humble answer. “Don’t sell yourself short” he flashed you another grin. “You clearly have a talent with kids. Jason has made more progress in the past few months than he ever has before. I’m not sure how I could ever thank you properly.”

His tone was friendly for the time being. The conversation continued. And at first it felt completely professional, how it should be. Mr. Reed asked about Jason’s curriculum, your teaching methods and even about the schools approach to managing the students unique abilities. You were more than happy to answer all his questions, oblivious to the way he started inching closer.

“It’s just refreshing” he said, leaning casually against the wall next to you, his eyes subtly roaming your figure “to meet someone as smart, kind and beautiful as you. Jason’s lucky to have you as his teacher. The whole class is.”

The realisation hit you like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t just being nice. He was flirting. You blinked, your polite smile faltering. “Oh, um, thank you” you replied, starting to feel a little awkward. It showed with the way you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. A sign for him that you were all shy and bashful around him. Far from that. You felt really uncomfortable.

"I’m lucky, too, really” he added, fueling the bad feeling in your gut. His eyes sweeped over you, this time less subtle, in a way that made your skin prickle, but not the good kind.

Then he decided to just go for it and ask the big question. He was impatient and wasn't in the mood to wait until you initiated something first. He had waited long enough. “Do you ever take time for yourself? Maybe let someone take you out for dinner?”

Your composure completely faltered for a second. The nerve this guy had. Didn't he see the obvious gold ring on your finger or did he purposefully decided to ignore it? You opened your mouth, trying to come up with a diplomatic way to shut this down, but you didn’t get the chance to.

“Everything alright in here?”

Logan’s gruff voice cut through the hallway like a blade, low and unmistakably annoyed. You turned to see him striding toward you, eyeing Mr. Reed like a wild animal stalking its prey. His broad shoulders were squared, his jaw set, and his dark eyes locked onto the other man with visible irritation.

You jumped as if you had just been caught cheating. “Logan” you squeaked surprised.

He huffed through his nose, his nostrils flaring like the ones of an angry bull that was riled up by the red in its vision. Well, when he had this loser of a man flirt with a goddess like you, his goddess, then he saw red. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt” Logan nearly growled, his tone anything but apologetic as he stopped next to you.

Mr. Reed blinked, clearly caught off guard. He swallowed thickly “Oh, I was just-” he tried to save the situation, or rather his own life, but Logan cut him off. “Flirtin’ with my wife?” Logan asked, arching a brow.

Mr. Reed’s face went pale as the snow falling outside the mansion, coating the gardenwith a thin layer of white. His eyes searched for your hand. They went wide as he looked at the wedding band you had been proudly wearing for six years now as if it had just appeared. “You-wait, you’re married?”

“Sure am” Logan said, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you firmly against his side, securing you there. Marking his territory. His grip was warm and possessive and you could feel the tension radiating from him.

Mr. Reed stammered, his eyes darting between you and Logan in embarrassement and if you looked correctly, a little bit of fear. “I-I had no idea. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-” he stuttered out, laughing awkwardly in a bad attempt to play down his nervousness.

“Yeah, well, now you know,” Logan said flatly. “So maybe next time, think twice before you try to fuck someones woman" he spat, taking a step closer to Mr. Reed. You gasped softly at Logans word and placed a hand on his chest, giving him a warning look. “Logan” you muttered softly, trying to rein him in like a guard dog that was ready to pounce if its owner let him. You couldn't say that this side of him didn't turn you on immensly. But you didn’t need to get scolded by Charles for scaring off a parent.

But Logan wasn’t done. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. “And just so we’re clear, she’s not interested. Ever” He snarled, down right barked his last word into Reeds face, who then mumbled another apology before practically fleeing down the hallway, leaving you alone with Logan.

Once he was gone, you turned to your husband with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “and that was really necessary?" you chuckled with a proud smirk. “Damn right it was” Logan replied, his hand still possessively gripping your hips, smoothing over them. “Guy needed to know who he was dealin’ with.”

You sighed, but your lips twitched into a small smile as you leaned against your broad and strong teddy bear of a husband. “You know I can handle myself, right?”

Logans lips pulled into the slightest smile as he looked down at you as if you were the most precious thing in the whole universe. “Yeah, I know” Logan muttered, his tone softening as he admired your pretty face. That pretty face he had the privilege to wake up to every morning because you were his wife. His. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna let some jackass hit on you though.”

You giggled, shaking your head fondly, reaching up to cup his gruff cheek. “You’re ridiculous.”

Logan shrugged “Maybe” he said, smirking. “But you like ridiculous. Wouldn’t have married me otherwise, missy" he rumbled deep in his chest, making you smile because it was the truth. You married him for it. Married him for everything he was. “Guilty as charged" you murmured with a smile, standing on your toes to kiss him softly.

Logan’s arms wrapped around you fully, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. By the time he pulled away, his loving smirk had returned, but his eyes were filled with something softer. Something only you got to see. Something that you wanted to see for the rest of your life just from him.

“Still don’t like sharin’,” he muttered. You laughed, resting your forehead against his. “You don’t have to.”

And as Logan laced his fingers with yours, leading you towards the mansions garden to take a relaxing stroll through the green and white landscape after this unpleasant encounter, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the man who’d fight the world to keep you by his side.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

And weirdly enough, you never saw Mr. Reed after that, not even at the parent evenings. I wonder why...

If you liked this- like, comments and reblog! It helps a lot🎀

[dabisqueen]

Pornstar!Dabi (Touya Todoroki) x female reader

⇢ word count: roughly 7K

⇢ plot: as a broke student, you sign up for an assistant job at a movie set. It turns out the job is more than you bargained for.

⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, swearing, size kink, pierced big-cock Touya, fingering, cunnilingus (f receiving), multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, overstimulation, exhibitionism (sex in front of other people (movie set)), creampie, sweet aftercare

⇢ personal note: thank you @/blankexpressions-and-falsefires for bring my beta again! As for what you're all about to read – I have no regrets. Virgin kink goes brrr

"College has always been so crucial, such an essential part of what measures a person’s worth and determines their future."

They say college life is quite challenging. That it can help you come to realize your potential, that you learn more about yourself while in it. That the challenges you experience in university help you grow into a mature person in society.

You have several challenges to face. There's the problem that you focus entirely too much on your studies. In some ways, it’s to secure your future and to compensate for your lack of private life. In other ways, it makes you, because of inexperience, too naive for your own good. Or, as your friends have called it: too innocent. You've never had anyone touch you, never been with anyone in that way. Thus, you never get the hint when someone hits on you or finds you attractive. You have excellent grades – but unlike many of your peers, you’re still a virgin. 

Another challenge you are facing is that you aren't wealthy. One semester into your studies, you are closer to the end than you expected. Leaving your landlord's buro, you take a few steps before coming to a halt and close your eyes as if to gain some semblance of composure. You're broke and desperately need money to cover your rent and living expenses. The bank isn't going to give you another loan, and you find yourself on the verge of having to leave college without a family to support your education.

They say you have to fail first to be successful in the future. But you are beyond failing – you are simply screwed. 

You are very aware of your financial predicament. And you loathe having to live day to day on just pennies. To put it short—you are sick of being a broke-ass, loser virgin.

You sigh. 

Giving up is not a choice. So you do the next best thing: grab life by the horns and start looking for a job. Searching under your bed, clothing pockets, and between couch cushions, you scrounge up enough money to get a local newspaper. In its classified ads, only a few offers deem themselves feasible with your busy school schedule: a late-night shift at a local diner, pizza delivery, or a job doing telemarketing. None of those sound too appealing, but there might not be a choice. Then, your gaze stops at an offer that sounds too good. A movie company is looking for a production assistant on a film set; you don't need prior experience, work hours are during the weekends, and pay is double what the other jobs offer.

You don’t think before hastily grabbing your phone, punching in the number, and waiting while the dial tone rings.

After a distinct click over the other line, a man hisses, "Shimura?"

"Uhm, hi. I- I am calling about the assistant job offer. I was wondering—"

"You're hired. Tomorrow at 5 pm," the man at the other end interrupts in an annoyed tone.

He rattles off the address as you fumble around for a pen, hastily writing it down when you find it.

Before you can reply, he finishes with Don't be late and hangs up unceremoniously.

You exhale, realizing you’ve been holding your breath since he started speaking.

What the hell just happened? 

***

The path to the location is littered with brown leaves, and you struggle to keep from slipping as you walk toward the building. The address given to you is an old warehouse on the edge of town. Its monotonous, featureless walls covered in graffiti make it feel abandoned. There are no visible signs that anything is happening inside at all.

As you walk across the parking lot, you start to see small indications of life: fancy cars—far too fancy for this area- and sensual music permeating through the corrugated steel walls. 

You weren’t sure how to dress for a job you knew nothing about, so you opted for blue jeans, a white blouse, and pointy shoes with heels. Your hair is tied into a neat ponytail, and simple smokey eyes complete the look. 

You aim for a large steel door that the cars are all parked close to. As you lift your head, you take in the old brick building you are standing in front of, lined with large casement metal windows. 

There is a single doorbell, no name on it, and you hesitate before inhaling and pressing it with the tip of your finger.

You hear a clicking sound, and then the heavy door swings inwards. 

Alright, here goes nothing.

***

The set is surprisingly professional—like a luxurious bedroom sliced in half. A row of chairs faces the set on a concrete floor behind multiple cameras and some sound equipment, with the crew standing around talking.

The producer, Tenko, as he introduces himself to you–with tufts of pale hair and seemingly chronic dry lips in dire need of some chapstick – explains that your job will consist of helping around the set, distributing beverages, and handing out the script. Simple work you could do. After introducing you to the crew, he hands you a stack of papers, instructing you to pass them out.

Then you see her—the actress. She is gorgeous, dressed in an ivory-colored silk robe. Her hair is the color of the sun. Her skin is flawless and tanned, and her body is perfect- although almost definitely sculpted by a professional surgeon.

"Where the fuck is he?" You hear Tenko grumble, pulling a phone from his pocket, thumb tapping against the screen.

A flurry of activity breaks your concentration. A door flies open, and a man strides through—the leading actor, you gather, from how everyone else suddenly perks up.

"Fucking finally," the pale-haired director groans, tucking his cell back into the pocket of his jacket.

The man's hair is coal-colored, falling in messy strands into his face. His eyes remind you of the bright ocean, almost glowing in the dim light of the set. His sharp lips pull into a wide grin, his canines peeking out. He is casually dressed, wearing a pair of dark, ripped jeans and a white t-shirt, allowing you to notice just how well-toned his arms are. He is handsome, with delicate yet masculine features and sharp angles set in his face. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and his thin lips form a troublesome grin when his eyes meet yours. 

Shit. 

He holds your gaze before dragging his sinfully blue eyes over your figure and looking away again. Your heart skips a beat because even in the low light, you can see that the actor is incredibly hot. Totally your type. You can't help but stare at him, watching how he moves, the way his muscles ripple under the thin fabric of his shirt, the way his thighs bulge in his tight pants. 

Speaking of bulge. 

It's the biggest one you've ever seen, and the sight of it sends a pang straight to your core. Your cheeks heat up automatically. 

Stop it!

You curse inwardly a few times for thinking lewd thoughts on a professional movie set.

But—you can't help it. He just looks too handsome. It stirs something inside of you you've never felt before. You sigh, knowing that this man has already made his way into your dreams, but in the end, they’ll stay just that— dreams. 

Someone like him would never want to lay a hand on you.

As he approaches the stage, the man stops dead in his tracks, staring at the actress with a bored expression. 

“Not her again.” You hear him groan.

The actress snaps her head around, a stunned expression on her face. “Pardon me?”

"The script calls for an innocent girl." The actor deadpans. "No one's gonna believe that with you in the female role."

The actress jumps to her feet. “How dare you talk about me like that!”

Tenko hisses, “Didn't you read the script? You would have known you film with her today, Touya—"

“I told you not to use my real name on set,” he says with a blase, somewhat impatient gaze.

“And I told you not to let out your frustration on the set, Dabi.” The director retorts.

“Frustration caused by your actions.” Dabi deadpans.

You hold your breath as your eyes dart from the director to Dabi and back to the actress. The rest of the crew acts like this is an everyday commotion on the set. 

“This is not a request— I'm not doing the scene with her, " Dabi says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

The actress jumps from her chair, visibly outraged, as her cheeks flare red with anger. “You're such a dick!”

“Yeah, you're right. But I’m the best dick in the industry.” He turns around, a sardonic finality in his tone.

You stare at the scene before you, the forgotten papers clutched tightly to your chest. The blonde woman stares at the dark-haired man, infuriated. 

“So, it's either me—or her.” Dabi addresses Tenko, who isn't even trying to de-escalate the situation. “That's my final say.”

“I can't believe you're doing this to me!" The woman wails exaggeratedly.

"Sweetheart, we need someone who conveys innocence. Not some chick as fake-looking as you," Dabi purrs with false care. “Go carry your plastic off the stage already.”

Tenko scratches his neck in annoyance. He watches as the actress slings an array of profanities at Dabi before storming off with quick strides toward the door, slamming it shut behind her.

The dark-haired man stands at ease, reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a deep drag. “Thank god she's gone. What were you thinking, Tenko?”

“Dabi, she's the most requested—” 

“I don't give a fuck.” he runs a free hand through his dark bangs. “She sucks.”

You listen to them bicker, getting more confused by the second. 

“So—what do you expect me to do now?” Tenko's scratching increases as he starts pacing up and down the set. “Production costs will double if we cut and pick things up on a different day. Not to mention the cost of finding a new replacement.”

He jumps off his chair, pacing around the set. Then he grumbles, “We’ll take a ten-minute break. I need to come up with a solution or else—”

“We need someone Pretty, no makeup, normal clothes.” Dabi suggests, "That won't be too expensive. Someone who looks undefiled, innocent.” Dabi's gaze wanders across the room. “Like a student or something.”

Then he sees you, and a smirk tugs at his lips. His stunning sapphire eyes look you up and down. You swallow hard, your shaking hands almost crumpling the papers in their tight grip.

"Like her." Teal eyes narrow as they focus on you. 

You blink back at him dumbly, the room around you completely silent.

"Me?" You answer, his words catching you off guard.

"Yep. You." Dabi's smirk returns, a playfulness in his eyes. 

The director stares at you with the same baffled expression written on your face. "Her?"

"Yep. Her." His grin widens.

"B-But, I can't!" You counter. " I'm a simple student, not an actress—"

"That's exactly what we need." The twinkle in his eyes is still there, "And you have a pussy, don't you?"

"Yes, I—” You catch yourself, your cheeks flaring hot. “W- What does that even have to do with this movie?"

Suddenly, the room goes alive with murmurs and whispers.

Dabi quirks a brow. "You're telling me you don't know?"

"Don't know what?" You helplessly look around.

The dark-haired man turns to his director, "You didn't tell her?!"

Tenko mumbles something about how you would have found out eventually. 

Dabi steps toward you and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Doll, this is an adult film set."

"A what?" You dumbly blink at him.

"An adult film set. You know, where people fuck." He leans forward, deep azures sparkling salaciously. "You know how fucking works, don't you?"

"Yes, I mean—in theory?" A heat washes over your face and flushes down your entire body.

"Yes or no. What is it?" Dabi asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

The heat in your face has reached the tip of your ears as you stammer. "It's none of your business."

He steps even closer. "C’mon, sweetheart, tell us."

He smirks, eyes narrowing as he leans closer. He looks at your lips, then back at your eyes. You can smell him with how close he is leaning in. His deep, masculine scent surrounds you, sending a jolt of heat straight through your core. Even though your mind wants to scream at him, to tell him off, you hear a timid voice whisper, "I’ve used my fingers? Maybe some toys?"

It is your voice.

"You're telling me you've never done it with another person?" This time, it is Dabi’s turn to sound baffled as he leans back, taking you in. "That you're a virgin."

"I-I…" You stammer, swallowing dryly.

Looking over his shoulders, he calls over to his director, "It'll break records if we film this. You're aware of that, right?"

"I am." Tenko snaps, scratching at his neck irritably, "You don't need to tell me."

"Ok, then it's a deal.” He nods towards you. “I want her—or I'm leaving."

"You little piece of—" Tenko growls. "That's extortion."

"You won't regret it," Dabi says, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Shouldn’t I have a say on this too?" You ask, but both men ignore your words.

"Ok, it's a deal," Tenko murmurs. "How much do we pay her?"

Dabi turns his gaze back to you. "You need money, right? Or else you wouldn't be here.”

"That’s none of your business."

"C'mon, sweetheart, This is your chance."

“Yes, I mean… " a sound of annoyance bubbles up your throat. "I can't afford my rent anymore, and my landlord will kick me out if I don't pay up soon."

“I sense an opportunity here," Dabi smirks. "Tenko, how much will you pay her if she agrees to do this with me?"

"How much do you want?" Tenko asks you.

“I-I don't know. I've never thought about it." You shyly add.

"Pay her rent plus an allowance," Dabi suggests. "Tenko, you know she's worth it."

"That’s too m—" You swallow hard.

Tenko mumbles disgruntledly: "OK, I'll do it.” 

“You what?" His words leave you stunned.

Dabi interrupts quickly. "What he's saying, sweetheart, is that he'll pay for your rent - if you let me fuck you.”

His lewd words and the deep blue pools of his stunning eyes send a flutter through your stomach. 

“In front of all these people?!" 

“That's what porn is all about, doll.” Dabi chuckles, studying your reaction.

You swallow hard.

"So? What's it gonna be?" He cocks his head, waiting. 

You have always prioritized safety, so common sense tells you to stick to your usual way of life. However, look where common sense has led you: You're almost broke and may need to drop out of college. 

This could be a bad decision. But, it's time to throw safety to the sea.

"OK, I'll do it," you proclaim, and a round of applause and cheers erupt on the set while Dabi nods appreciatively.

“Congratulations, you're hired. Now, get ready before I change my mind.” Tenko waves a hand. “We still have a movie to film here.”

Your heart starts to race, a crushing weight bearing down on your chest. But you know that you have no choice. It's either a free porn loan—or being a forced college dropout. Taking a deep breath, you ball your hands into fists, trying to ignore the signs of panic your body is giving you.

"Okay, everyone, resume positions. And hand her the script.” Tenko moves to his chair, sitting down in it. “Let's do the first take." 

"Hold on," Dabi says. "Why not do it a bit differently this time? No script, no acting— just raw footage. The whole thing.”

“You mean a one-shot film?” Tenko looks surprised. “I suppose that would work. Especially with a new actress.”

“Are you okay with that, doll?” Dabi smiles at you, and there's a warmth in his voice that wasn't there before.

“Do I have a choice?” you sigh.

“Not really.” He winks.

"Are you two lovebirds done flirting over there? " Tenko asks, " Because we're ready to film.”

“We weren't flir—” you protest, but Dabi bridges the distance between you.

"So, sweetheart?" He leans in, his face hovering close, sharing a breath with you. "How are you feeling about being fucked on camera?"

“Nervous.” you bite your lips, your face starting to burn.

"Doll, don't be; just focus on me," he soothes, stroking your cheek. “Forget about everyone else; I'll take care of you.”

He takes your hand and pulls you towards the bedroom set.

“Quiet!” Tenko raises a hand, and complete silence falls over the set as the crew prepares to film you both. 

Tenko calls out a set of commands, which different crew members around the room answer.

“Sound?”

“Set.”

“Camera?”

“Set.”

“Roll sound.”

“Sound rolling.”

“Roll camera.” 

“Camera Speed.” 

“Marker.”

A man with a clapper board enters the scene and calls, "Scene one. Take—uhm— whatever." 

Dabi nods, and that is the cue. The lights dim, and the cameras vanish into the darkness; only the red lights betray their existence. 

You glance around, your stomach in knots, as you realize that this is no game, that this is it. The only thing visibly lit was the bed standing a few feet away. The crew's faces are barely visible as everyone watches you, the man behind the camera tilting it, filming you from bottom to top.

“Hey baby, you alright?” You hear Dabi's voice.

“N-No, not really.” You stammer, your hands trembling, your breathing picking up, as your eyes frantically dart around the dark set. “I don't know if I can do this.”

“Sweetheart, look at me.” You feel a finger hook under your chin when Dabi tilts your head to meet his gaze. It's intense, the turquoise of his irises gleaming almost unnaturally. 

You feel your heart sink into your stomach as his thumb caresses your skin. When he closes the already minimal distance between you, your eyes flutter close in reflex. His lips are sensually warm and addicting against your cheek, and your heart starts thrashing wildly inside your chest in response. Something changes between you, an intimacy blooming as the voices of the people mute.

It's all you need to distract your mind, to make your body heat up. Not with anxiety—

—but in anticipation. 

“Are you ready to give me your virginity?” His low voice rumbles close to your ear.

You nod, like in a haze, every caress of his lips causes your skin to tingle, to burn with passion. He shifts, and you feel him faintly brush your lips, and a zap of electricity courses through your veins. Then, your lips are united in his first tentative kiss. They are so soft, and the way he kisses you is so delicate, almost tender— deliberately slow.

You relax, giving in to how wonderful this feels. His tongue slowly traces the shape of your lips, and you feel your brain short-circuiting. Angling your head to the side, you part your lips, begging him to enter. Dabi reacts instantly, his tongue slipping your mouth, delving deeper, tasting you, consuming you.

You groan—how could a man taste so good?

It makes your knees buckle, and you start panting into his mouth, your instincts taking over, your body reacting to his touch. A desire, a passion, awakens like a wild animal roaring, and you feel a wave of arousal pool in your panties. You can't help it, and you slide your hand underneath his shirt, your other hand circling his neck. You can feel him smirking into the kiss, but the sound carries off into a groan when you rake your nails down the small of his back. 

As he breaks away, a warmth lingers between you and him while he admires your wet, pink, swollen lips, "A little eager for your first time, huh?"

The kiss leaves you dizzy, and you can't seem to form an answer, too stricken by his closeness and intoxicating scent.

The moment passes, and then his lips smash against yours so fast you don't even have time to react. He presses his hips against yours, his clothed hardness grazing against your heat, letting you feel just how hard you’ve made him.

Holy shit.

He's not gentle anymore; he's rough and demanding now. He is taking you, enjoying the shaky gasps that leave your lips. Dabi’s hands trail down your side to find your ass cheeks. He lifts you by the thighs onto his waist skillfully, never breaking the kiss. Carrying you easily toward the bed he releases his hold and you topple onto it, panting heavily.

The lights around you heat the air, and you notice one camera panning across the set while the other tracks toward you on a dolly. Just as your heart starts picking up an anxious speed again, you see a movement to the side. Dabi yanks his shirt above his head, the muscles in his stomach flexing with every movement.

The second the fabric touches the floor, he's on you with his lips pressed to yours and his tongue in your mouth. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment of passion and all you can see is him. Your stomach somersaults and the world around you ceases to exist; it is just you and him— the people around you and the cameras wholly forgotten. The world, right now, only revolves around the two of you.

“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes into your mouth, hazy eyes glowing with arousal. "How do you taste so fucking good?”

You feel his hand sneak underneath your shirt to slowly pull it off over your head. Next, he skillfully removes the rest of your clothes off until you are lying below him, sex and breasts cupped by delicate cotton underwear. 

“Look at that,” he muses. “So innocent.”

Sliding his hand behind your back, he unhooks the bra with an expert pinch of his fingers. Your breasts spill out as he slides the straps off your shoulders, tossing it aside. Then his gaze lingers on your soft, round tits.

“Damn,” he cups them and squeezes them gently, “Where have you been hiding, girl? You're perfect.”

He slides his fingers over your nipples and a low moan tears from your throat. Dabi lets out a low rumble as his hands continue to work your breasts, rubbing and plucking at your stiffening nipples. There’s a deep throb low in your body, pulsing between your thighs, and you're startled at the way you’re reacting. You are so turned on—his touch only adds to your body’s cravings, and as his large palms glide over your breasts; it pulls the breath from your lungs as it simultaneously fuels your desire. His thumbs drag over your nipples again, rolling it between his fingers before leaning down to lick at your pebbled nub. He makes you feel breathless with excitement the more he focuses on toying with your breasts, rolling the tips back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. 

It makes you crazy with need until you're aching, shivering throughout your entire body. You're gasping for breath the entire time Dabi has his lips wrapped around your erect nub, sucking it to send a tingling sensation straight through to your core. Then he's biting just hard enough to make you squeal before soothing the puckered nub with a flick of his tongue.

“You’ve got the most amazing tits,’ Dabi murmurs against your skin. “So soft and full. So natural.”

While he switches from pliant nipple to pliant nipple, you feel a stray hand hook its fingers under the seams of your panties. He releases your nipple with a pop and peppers kisses down to your tummy while he adeptly pulls the little piece of fabric down and off your legs. You're now utterly naked below him while Dabi continues revering your body with wet kisses and nibbles, moving downward until you feel his warm breath on your pubic mound. He spreads your trembling legs, his eyes glazing over your pussy, pupils expanding and then retracting into pin slits.

"Look at that pretty pussy." His breath is hot against your soaked folds. "And so fucking wet—you're dripping."

A shameful sound spills from your lips at his words, and you writhe in his hold. But his hands keep you in place. 

"You're seriously telling me,” he slides his fingers up and down your glistening folds, “No one's been here before?"

You squirm below him as a camera zooms in on where Dabi’s eyes are affixed– between your thighs.

“Cause you have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He snickers. “And I've seen a lot.” 

His warm, calloused fingers slide up and down your slippery folds, his hot breath fanning over your sex. Then he spreads apart your sweet lips; it makes you shudder in anticipation, and Dabi chuckles.

“I can see you twitching for me.” A finger sinks in, making you arch your back the deeper it goes. 

The camera behind him zooms in on your blushing face, and you cover it with trembling hands. 

"Nu-uh, no hiding. Look at me." He slaps your clit lightly—making you jolt. "Let us see your pretty face."

You whimper softly, because you've touched yourself before—

—but this just feels so much more intense.

“Dabi—” you choke out, flinching in pleasure when he slides a hand underneath your ass, 

raising your hips to have more access to you. 

“Relax, baby, I'll take care of you.” A growl tears from his throat, and then he drags his tongue over your gleaming folds, tasting you. 

You cry out, your body shuddering. Over and over, Dabi licks you with deep, claiming strokes, using his tongue to explore every bit of you. 

“Damn, you taste better than anything I've ever tasted.” He pushes his wet muscle into your core, frantic to have more of you. 

“Oh my God. Dabi!” Your toes curl, and your thighs tighten around him. You're both – startled and aroused at his eagerness. Any worries you have are melting away as he drags his tongue over you again and again, making you squirm with need.

A moan escapes your lips– loud, uncontrolled– when his tongue flicks over your folds. When he grazes your little button, you jolt as if you've been stung. 

He hums appreciatively and buries his face into your warmth, seeking out that sweet nub. Your body jerks as he moves his tongue over it, repeating the action when he does it again. You give a little wail, and your hands curl into the fabric the longer he teases. He eagerly works that spot, and you cry out with little choked gasps.

As his tongue circles your clitoris, your sensations spiral out of control. You can feel the tension increasing in your body with a growing urgency to be released. 

“Dabi,” you pant with every flick of his tongue. But he doesn't respond, does not hear– or pretends not to. He buries his face in your folds, hands holding you down by your hips.

With every quiver that moves through your body, with every shiver of response, every tensing of your muscles, you draw closer to the edge.

You writhe against Dabi, with his face between your thighs, lapping at your juices. All the while, he continues to work your little clit with his tongue in slow, steady strokes. 

Suddenly, the feeling that you’re about to cum overwhelms you. Your pussy clenches, dripping with your juices, and your clit is ready to burst.  

Your hips jerk against him, and then a release explodes in your mind, your thoughts crashing all around you. You come with a slight scream that morphs into a moan, but Dabi does not stop his ministrations—

—no.

He continues to lick and suck as you come and come and come.

It's too much; you feel like exploding. You’re a moaning mess, fingers slipping between Dabi’s strands, pushing and pulling at his roots unsure if you can take it if he keeps going like that. 

Your entire body is on fire. The orgasm continues to surge through you– more intense than anything you’ve experienced by yourself– with Dabi gently sucking and licking at your clit. You are delirious, feel like you are floating with no way to find your path back to earth. 

“Dabi, please—” you choke out.

Dabi’s mouth detaches from your overstimulated nub and straightens up, licking your cum’s sweetness off his lips. Crawling on top of you, he gazes into your eyes. “Doll, tell me—what do you want me to do?”

You see his jeans straining from the bulk of his erection and swallow, your body responding with a flood of hormones. 

“Please fuck me,” you whisper, thinking in ways you never have before.

You want to beg him to be gentle, but you can’t seem to form the words when you see him unbuckle his belt before unzipping his jeans, his eyes carefully watching your expression as he does. His cock springs to life, and you swallow thickly. It's enormous—and pierced. 

You feel a momentary pang of doubt, questioning if that monster will even fit inside you. The previous excitement and adrenaline pumping through your veins gradually turn to panic. Your breathing picks up as you stare at his cock, wide-eyed. 

“You look worried,” Dabi says, stroking it with one hand. His raised eyebrows and amused grin tell you he's used to this type of reaction. 

“Are you sure…” you nod towards his cock.

“Trust me,” he says. “I’ll make sure you feel good. It’ll be the greatest thing you'll ever experience.”

Your entire body yearns for his touch, and there’s no way you're saying no now. He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves to hold himself in hand to align his cock with your entrance.  

"Do you want me to fuck you?’ Dabi asks as he drags the head of the tip up and down your slit. 

“‘S not gonna fit,” you whine with a worried expression.

“Don't be scared,” Dabi says, "I know what I'm doing. So, you'll be a good girl and take it all, right?”

“I'm not sure,” you whisper.

“I know you can...” His eyes stare at you with a desire so intense that you almost feel intimidated. 

He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves one to hold himself and align his cock to your entrance. The pressure between your legs increases as Dabi nudges the pierced tip of his cock against you.

“Get ready,” he whispers.

A mix of a gasp and a cry leaves your lips as Dabi strains against you, feeling like he’s trying to shove a massive pole inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut as tears gather in your lashes, and Dabi holds back, kissing you, waiting for you to relax.

“Easy,” he says softly, “I’ve got you.” 

The softness of his tone relaxes you and the tension in your shoulders lessens. Then, somehow, something gives way, and he enters you. You gasp, your body opening up to accommodate the massive dick that is now sliding inside of you. 

"Oh my god—” You throw your head back, hands clawing at his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him away.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, eyebrows furrowing before he hits resistance and then pushes forward.

There’s a sharp pain slicing through your core, and you don't know if it's from the stretch or a tear. Probably both. It hurts, and you squeeze your eyes shut, forcing tears down your cheek. Dabi continues to push his hips forward, only stopping once he’s entirely inside, heavy balls pressed against the crease of your ass. The cameras zoom in on the bulge in your womb, where his dick sits buried deep inside of you. But you don't notice them, your brain too consumed by him filling you up, his whole weight resting against you. 

“You ok?” Breathing heavily, he drags his eyes back and forth over your face. 

“Gimme a sec.” Your lips press into a thin line as the pain from the stretch slowly turns into a dull throb. After a moment, you nod...

"I'm gonna start moving now," Dabi says— and then does precisely that. 

Just as you start to feel your body relaxing, he withdraws, only to plunge himself in again. The sudden shock of the movement is incredible. You feel every ridge, every single thick vein. It feels fantastic, and as he slowly slides back in, you can appreciate every inch of his cock. He starts an even rhythm, rocking inside you gently. 

“Shit, just squeezed me so fucking tight,” he moans in response. "I’m warning you, don't make me lose my composure. You don’t want to see me act up.”

Your mind feels detached from your body; you don't hear him, don't even notice the camera zooming in, focusing on how your face scrunches and your lips quiver because of how good he makes you feel. 

He grabs you by the waist and brings you closer to him. Raising both legs in the air, he pushes them forward until your body is folded in half.

“Oh—shit—” You choke out, the walls of your sex stretching to accommodate him. 

“I’m gonna make you cum,” Dabi is panting hard as he starts driving his cock rapidly in and out of you. “You won't be able to walk for days.”

“I-I can’t—” your jaw slackens as you tighten around his dick again, the ability to form comprehensive answers having left you the moment he breached your walls.

He rams himself deeper while his fingers slip between your strands, guiding your face upward, your mouths colliding in a frantic kiss. 

It starts as a slow burn that gradually builds into a white, blistering heat. A feeling begins coursing through you, making you lose control of your body. You tense and arch your back, your head digging back into the pillow, voice caught in your throat. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, all that tension releases, and you cry out loud, a turbulent wave of pleasure hitting you like a storm. All your nerve endings are seemingly set ablaze while Dabi fucks you through your orgasm. 

His eyes are wide with wonder, hearing and feeling you come undone around him. The way your eyes are shut tightly in pleasure, your entire body trembling and shaking in ecstasy, is the best thing he's ever seen. It makes his chest swell with pride. Still, it feels like it's not enough, though, and he needs more. He wants to own you, possess you, make you his.

Dabi snaps. 

With a suppressed growl, Dabi grabs you by your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. He's not letting you catch your breath before he propels his cock back inside you again. His hand slides from the dip in your spine to the spot between your shoulder blades, pressing down until your face is buried in the sheets. At this angle, he reaches even deeper than before, his piercings rubbing your G-spot just right. Your hands tightly fist the soft duvet with every drive of his hips, knocking the air from your lungs.

Dabi seems delirious, pistoning in and out of you now. Reaching forward, he gathers your hair around his fist, tugging it to keep you in place, forcing your head up from the sheets. You sob out his name, your chin and cheeks covered with your drool and tears. 

But Dabi is drowning too deep in pleasure to notice. 

"I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll never think of anyone but me in your fantasies," Dabi growls while your elbows shake under the pressure of his forceful thrusts.

Slowly, your mind is falling apart with the pleasure pulsing through your body. Dabi starts drilling his big cock into your even faster now. You tremble below him, thighs quivering when you feel another orgasm building up. 

“You gonna cum for me again, princess?” Dabi groans, “I can feel your pussy clenching around me.”

You nod, too exhausted to form any words. Dabi tightens his hold on your hip, fingers digging into your plush skin, holding you still. 

“I’m gonna cum with you,” he tells you. “I’m gonna fill up your tight hole, gonna breed you so good—fuck!”

"Please—" you whimper pathetically, finding yourself trapped in his lewd promises. 

And then you lose it, feeling like the world is disappearing underneath your feet. Pleasure rips through you, leaving you with no strength. It’s an intense tingling pleasure that starts in your core and spreads through your whole body, from your fingertips down to your toes. It's all-consuming and euphoric, your body not knowing what to do with that much sensation at once. 

You feel your body falling off a cliff into a pile of tingling ecstasy as you cum again with a broken whimper escaping your lips. The orgasm is even more potent than the last ones, like a massive burst of pleasure; all that tension explodes and shoots up the back of your legs and everywhere else. You moan and shudder, your pussy clamping around his cock. 

“That’s it,” Dabi lets out a long, shuddering groan. “Just like that.”

You forget to breathe while Dabi keeps fucking your harder and harder, feral with desire, shoving his cock as deep inside you as he can.

“Oh fuck—” You gasp out, arching your back, fingers twisting against the sheets.

No sooner have the words slipped from your lips that you feel your whole body lock tight again—and then unravel. You forget to breathe as an unending cascade of euphoria detonates deep inside of you. You come undone, shaking uncontrollably as juices gush from your pussy, dripping down Dabis balls, drenching the sheets below. 

Dabi groans, his eyes screwing shut, head dropping back. With one final possessive thrust of his hips, he cums, shooting his seed deep inside you. You feel his cock twitch as he moans heavily, eyebrows sewn together. His body is shuddering, his hips hitching while he rides out his orgasm.

You’re faintly aware of your surroundings, buried too deeply in your bliss. Unable to take any more pleasure, you slump backward. Dabi slides his softening cock from you with an obscene wet sound before dropping down onto the bed beside you, taking you with him.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, caressing your skin. “That felt so—”

‘And—cut!’ You hear a voice call, speaking its way into the mush that is your brain, slapping you back to reality.

You open your eyes and look around in shock, having completely forgotten where you are. The lights switch on, almost blindingly bright. People start hustling about the set, and cameras mere inches away from you now pull back into their waiting positions. 

“That was perfect,” you hear Tenko say through the noise filling the set now.

Your breath catches in your throat, an unsettling feeling beginning to well inside you. Your heart starts pounding at an increasingly rapid pace while you feel panic stretch its icy fingers up your spine.

You feel a warm hand cradling your face, angling it to the side. It’s Dabi. He places his mouth over yours without further ado. 

“You are perfect.” Dabi coos into the kiss, and it happens again— butterflies erupt in your gut, the world around you fading until there's only you and him.

Instinctively, you let go, feeling the tension slowly dissipate and your heart calming down. Dabi smiles as he breaks away from you, and you feel it— a lingering warmth, an unseen connection that spins fragile threads between you both.

A man approaches to help you get out of bed, but Dabi, whose face is still dewy with sweat, moves between you both. He takes the bathrobe from the guy and wraps it around your shivering body before getting dressed himself.

Helping you off the bed, he drapes an arm around your shoulder and leads you past the celebrating crew members from the set until you’re backstage. 

Once in the changing room, he closes the door behind him and leans against it. 

“That was something…” he muses. “You’re a natural. Would you ever consider doing this again with me?’ 

You're caught off-guard, his face radiating a tenderness that fills your heart with something joyful. A warmth spreads across your face, your hands gripping the soft belt of your robe as you nip at your lower lip. “I-I don't know.”

“You should,” Dabi kicks off the door frame and saunters over you with a sinful, obscene sway of his hips. His hand finds yours, fingers interlacing in a silent agreement, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Think about it…”

He lets the words hang in the air for a second. When he pulls away, his arms wrap around your neck, lower half still pressed against you as if you’re not a stranger. He looks down at you like the two of you have been dating for years.

“So, I was wondering… what are you doing later on?” Dabi kisses the tip of your nose. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat and get some drinks?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” A new desire for him grows inside of you. You smile back at him, reaching up to gently play with his dark hair.

“Maybe?” His lips curl into a devious smirk.

“Is this even allowed?” Chest to chest, your heartbeat slowly catches up to his, as if your bodies react simultaneously to each other's warm touch.

“Maybe?” Dabi repeats, his thumb gently brushing along your lips.

When you look into his eyes, a tenderness softens the rough edges of his sharp features. It makes you wonder, he’s been so sweet and caring after everything that happened today– you actually believe he’s a genuinely sincere and nice guy. You feel your heart quiet when you’re with him, as if you have found peace. 

“Well…” you consider, “I've just thrown all my morals into the wind. So, might as well go on a date with a pornstar, right?”

“You won't regret it.” Dabis laughs softly. “Even though you might not be able to move after I'm done with you—”

“Is that so…” You are torn between scolding him or laughing because he's so cute. “Ok, big boy, whatever you say.”

[kateschi]

what goes unsaid

synopsis: you started to notice small things todoroki does, but you’re not sure what they mean just yet.

pairing: timeskip!todoroki shoto x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: i listened to you guys

the buzz of the office fades into background noise as you shuffle through the latest batch of mission reports.

your shoulders ache from a particularly rough day in the field, and the stiffness in your neck only serves to remind you of the long hours stretching ahead.

you rub your temples, trying to stave off the impending headache.

“rough day?”

the voice pulls you from your thoughts, low and calm with a subtle edge of concern. shoto todoroki stands in the doorway to your shared agency’s common room, his presence as composed as ever.

his hero uniform is slightly scuffed, evidence of his own busy day. still, his mismatched eyes fix on you, quiet but observant.

“yeah, you could say that,” you reply with a weak smile, closing the folder in front of you. “I’ll be fine, though. just a few reports to finish up.”

without another word, todoroki crosses the room. he places a paper cup on the desk beside you, the warm aroma of your favorite coffee wafting up immediately. you blink, glancing between him and the cup.

“thought you could use this,” he says simply, his tone casual but laced with that understated sincerity that’s so distinctly him.

your lips twitch upward despite yourself. “thanks, todoroki. you didn’t have to.”

“I know,” he replies, his voice steady as he turns to leave.

it’s not the first time he’s done something like this—little gestures that seem small on the surface but hold a surprising amount of thoughtfulness.

you’ve chalked it up to his polite nature, the way he’s always been one to notice when someone needs a hand.

but lately, those gestures seem to happen more often, and each time they do, you can’t help but wonder if there’s more behind them.

a few days later, the intensity of the work begins to weigh on you again. a gruelling mission left you feeling physically and emotionally drained, and your muscles protest every movement you make.

you collapse on the couch in the break room, still in your hero gear, too tired to even think about a shower.

todoroki walks in, fresh from the shower, his damp hair sticking to his forehead. he eyes you for a moment before disappearing into the adjacent kitchenette.

you don’t think much of it until he returns a few minutes later, setting a small ice pack on the table beside you.

“for your shoulder,” he says, nodding toward where you’d been absentmindedly massaging your arm.

you blink, caught off guard by the quiet care in the gesture. “oh, thanks. you didn’t—”

“you overextend that side sometimes,” he interrupts, his voice calm. “you should be careful.”

your mouth opens, but no words come out. instead, you nod, pressing the ice pack against your shoulder as he sits in the chair across from you. the silence that follows is surprisingly comfortable.

you can feel the weight of his gaze occasionally flicking over to you, but it’s not heavy or demanding—more like a quiet understanding, the kind that doesn’t require explanation.

there’s a certain ease between you two, even when neither of you says much.

it’s in the way todoroki always seems to anticipate what you need, how he quietly adjusts the environment around you without ever making a show of it. and for reasons you can’t fully explain, it feels…right.

the moments continue to add up, each one more subtle than the last.

after a long patrol, you find a bottle of water placed carefully on your desk with a note—drink up, you’ve been dehydrated all day.

it’s an obvious thing, but the gesture still feels personal, like he noticed something you hadn’t even considered.

the next day, you’re struggling to get through a particularly difficult set of paperwork when your phone buzzes on the table. you glance at the screen to see a message from him: how’s the report going? 

you smirk at the simplicity of it. he knew exactly what you were doing.

when you reply that you’re about to hit a wall, todoroki doesn’t respond immediately.

but later, when you make your way into the break room for a quick break, there’s a sandwich on the counter—your favorite kind, carefully wrapped in a napkin.

no note this time, just the quiet understanding that he had noticed, even from across the building.

it’s when you’re sitting on the rooftop of the agency a few weeks later that the weight of it all really hits you. the city sprawls out before you, the lights twinkling against the night sky.

you’re lost in your thoughts when the sound of footsteps pulls you back.

todoroki appears at your side, a familiar calmness in his expression. he doesn’t say anything right away, just leans against the railing beside you.

the silence between you is surprisingly comfortable, the kind that doesn’t demand to be filled. you’ve shared enough of these moments that you don’t feel the need to say anything.

“figured you’d be up here,” he says eventually, his gaze still fixed on the horizon.

you glance at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “needed a breather. what about you?”

“same,” he admits. “it’s been a long day.”

there’s something in his voice, a small shift, and for the first time, you realize just how much of an emotional weight he carries.

you’ve always known him to be calm, calculated, and collected, but there’s something more underneath, a pressure he doesn’t always show.

when he looks at you now, there’s something in his eyes—something softer, more open than usual.

“thanks for the coffee earlier,” you say, breaking the silence. “and…everything else. you don’t have to do all that, you know.”

he turns his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours. there’s a flicker of something in his expression, a subtle, almost imperceptible shift. “I know,” he says simply. “but I want to.”

his words hang in the air, quieter and more vulnerable than usual, and for the first time, you see the full weight of what he’s been doing all along.

these small gestures, these little acts of kindness, have been his way of showing something he’s never been able to put into words.

weeks pass, and despite everything happening around you—missions, deadlines, late-night training—there’s a steady rhythm to the way shoto treats you.

he’s never one to speak loudly about his emotions, but the small things he does start to stand out in a way that feels undeniable.

there are days when you catch him looking at you from across the room, his expression slightly more intense than usual.

he doesn’t say anything, but you notice the way his eyes linger a little longer than they should, as if he’s trying to figure something out.

he’s quiet around you, often lost in his thoughts, but when he speaks, it’s always with a softness that’s impossible to ignore.

it’s as if every word he says carries the weight of more than just friendship—though, he’ll never admit it outright.

it’s late one evening when the two of you find yourselves standing side by side in the agency’s common room.

the glow of the lights is soft, the building nearly empty after the day’s work. you’re both exhausted, but neither of you is quite ready to head home.

shoto hands you a fresh towel as you come out of the shower, his movements slow and deliberate. you notice how carefully he looks after even the smallest details:

making sure the towel’s warm and that the temperature in the room is just right.

you take it from him with a soft smile. “you’ve been really nice to me lately.”

shoto pauses, his eyes flicking to yours. there’s an emotion there you can’t quite place, something quiet and unspoken.

“I don’t mind,” he says, his voice steady. “I want to.”

the words hit you harder than you expect, and for a moment, you’re both silent, the air between you charged with something that hasn’t been said aloud but feels clear all the same.

you’ve always known shoto in pieces—quiet, introspective, deeply caring in his own way—but this is different. this is more.

when you step closer, your heart thumping louder than it should, he doesn’t pull away.

instead, he looks down at you, his mismatched eyes soft with something that’s not quite a confession but feels like one all the same.

“I’ve always wanted to be there for you,” he adds quietly, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “I just…couldn’t figure out how.”

the quiet honesty of it leaves you breathless, and for a moment, you let the words come freely.

“you’re doing it, shoto,” you say. “you’ve been doing it.”

before either of you can say another word, the space between you seems to shrink of its own accord.

his gaze lingers on yours, and there’s a long moment of quiet before you close the small gap, your breath mingling with his.

his hand lifts, brushing against your cheek, and it’s the gentlest touch, but it sends a warmth through you that settles deep in your chest. without a word, he leans in.

and when his lips meet yours, it’s not forceful, nor is it rushed—it’s as natural as everything else that’s happened between you.

when you pull back, there’s a soft smile on his lips, a look of quiet satisfaction as he rests his forehead against yours.

“guess this makes it official,” you chuckle.

he hums, “yeah.”

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[chxrry-lv]

니키 - Sneaking in - - — -> N.NK

Synopsis -> After a long day, Niki just wants cuddles from his girlfriend.

Pairing -> TiredBf!Niki x SleepyGf!FemReader.

Warning -> None!

*ೃ༄ click here - WC -> 0.8k

DESC - ✿︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄ This is my only account!! any other account that has my work! Please don't be afraid to P.M me and help take it down.. & All works under - #✶.enha

Niki held his breath as he slowly and quietly closed the window of your dorm room.

He closed the curtains so you wouldn't be bothered by the moonlight.

It's late, nearing two in the morning, and he knows after the day you had you've got to be in a deep sleep now.

He didn't want to wake you. At least, not yet.

So he tried to be as quiet and as careful as he possibly could.

But that was a little easier said than done as he walked through your room and had to be careful not to step or trip on anything you might have on the floor.

He soon began to tiptoe to your bed and finally, he reached it.

He breathed out a sigh of relief and then quietly took his shoes off before she crawled under the covers with you.

He wanted to get here much sooner than this but he's been busy since early this morning and just finished everything he had to do today an hour or so ago.

It felt like time had just dragged on today.

He was completely exhausted and felt very stressed.

His day was, honestly, terrible; one of the worst that's one of the reasons why he snuck in so late tonight.

Because until now, he didn't have the chance to see you and he needs cuddles from you more than he ever has before.

He curled up with you and put his arms around you to hold you tight.

But as he did so, his hand fell to your back, and your eyes flew open at the feeling.

At first, you had no idea that it was him.

The only thing you knew was it was late and dark and someone was in your bed.

You almost screamed but Niki felt you jump and was quick to shush you before you made a sound.

"Shh. Baby, it's just me."

"Nini?" You mumbled sleepily and turned over to face him. "What are you doing here? How did you get into my dorm room?"

"I snuck in through your window." He said.

"You climbed all the way up here?"

"Yeah." He answered as he tangled his legs with yours.

"I don't think you've ever done that before. Are you alright? Not that I'm complaining but it's after two am. Why are you here?"

"I had a very bad day." He sighed as you began to brush your fingertips across his skin. "It was just awful. One of the worst I've had in quite some time. I'm exhausted and I'm so stressed out and I just need some cuddles."

"Oh, niki," you cooed and curled up as close as you could, holding onto him tightly. "I'm so sorry to hear that. I know things have been hard for you lately. I'm more than happy to give you all the cuddles you want."

"Thank you." He spoke softly as he kissed your head.

"Do you want to talk about it? You can tell me anything you want to get off your chest. I'll listen to every word."

"I know you will, my love. But no. I'd rather just hold you. I want to try and forget about the entire day if I can and just hope that tomorrow is better."

"Baby, I'm sure it will be." You said as you played with his hair.

"You deserve the world. I have hope that tomorrow will be a much better day. You deserve it."

"Thank you." He said and for the first time all day, he cracked a real and genuine smile.

"Are you warm? Have some of my blanket." You said and covered him up with your blanket, letting her have as much of it as he wanted.

"The day is over, baby. You're okay now. You're here with me. I've got you."

Your words were so sweet and so comforting and they helped to make him feel so much better.

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me." He softly spoke as he brushed his fingers across your back. "I don't know what I'd ever do without you. You're so sweet and I'm just so in love with you."

"Niki, I'm so in love with you. You don't ever have to wonder what you'd ever do without me because I'm not going anywhere. Not ever. I promise."

He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

Sometimes, those worries creep into his brain.

He just needs you to remind him that you're never leaving.

Because you know he isn't ever either.

"I know it was a bad day but you don't have to worry about a thing anymore. It's all over. It's just us now. I'll cuddle you until the sun comes up. I won't let go."

He smiled for a few seconds, until you put your lips on his and gave her a sweet kiss.

"Get some rest. I love you, angel."

"I love you more, sweet girl." He said and held you tighter as you put your head on his chest and closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep together.

©chxrry-lv

[starmapz]

love & company - r. sukuna

❦ biker!ryomen sukuna x biker!f!reader [non-curse au]

❦ oneshot

❝ you're beginning to lose hope of ever fixing your bike as the moon rises over the horizon when a man built like a brick wall and covered in tattoos stops to help you out. he's standoffish and his words are cold - but as it turns out the version of him you see is soft. who knew this man could ever become your best friend, let alone something more? ❞

❦ cw ; 18+ only. contains explicit content. friends to lovers. fluff. hurt/comfort. p in v. fingering. oral (f! and m! receiving). degradation (slut). choking. pet names (princess, brat, woman, girl). size kink. rough sex. unprotected. biting. hair pulling. manhandling. toxic relationship (not sukuna). manipulation (not sukuna). reckless driving. use of alcohol and cigarettes. reader is implied to be short/small mostly in comparison to sukuna but he's huge so. ooc warning for sukuna given that this is modern and i want him to be more realistically human. i probably got some of the bike information wrong.

❦ words ; 24.2k.

main masterlist || love & company masterlist

A cool evening wind chills your skin as you hunch over your bike on the side of the road. You’re thankful for your thick leather jacket to protect you from the brisk winds, but it doesn’t make it easy to work when your thoughts continue to stray to the fast-approaching night.

Your Kawasaki motorcycle puttered to a stop an hour ago and you’ve been on the side of the road ever since. Of course it would happen today of all days, where your patience runs thin and you want nothing more than to be curled up in bed.

Your small array of tools that you keep for times like these are finally proving useful, but you can hardly bring yourself to care as you run out of things to check. You’re almost certain the issue is a clogged fuel line at this point but without the necessary tools to check, you’re fresh out of ideas on what to do aside from calling a tow truck.

The sound of another passing motorbike is grating on your ears as someone speeds by on a bright red Ducati and you want to curse them out just for having a working bike, but to your surprise, they circle back a minute later and pull up next to you.

A broad-shouldered figure steps off the bike, pulling a dark helmet off and giving his head a shake, running a hand through his pink hair to give it a naturally windswept look. Tattoos line his sharp jaw and scars litter his right eye. Deep near-crimson eyes lock on you, a mildly cold expression spread over the tall man’s features. He’s just about the textbook definition of what you would think of as a ‘bad boy’.

He looks you over before taking in the state of your bike. The sight of you covered in grease and oil sitting in defeat on the ground is amusing to him to say the least- you don’t much look the part of a biker between your small figure and approachable stature but one look at your bike and attire tells him not to judge a book by its cover.

“Need a hand?”

Unfortunately for the tattooed man, he’s caught you in a bad mood.

“No,” you grumble, picking up your wrench and dipping back into a rhythm of checking everything.

“I’ve got more tools than just a wrench,” he offers. Your intense gaze looks him over again, surveying the black leather hanging off his shoulders and red helmet that matches his bike tucked under his elbow.

“I can handle myself,” you insist, not keen on accepting a stranger’s help, especially given his cold expression.

“Didn’t say you couldn’t,” he retorts with a click of his tongue. “Just askin’ if you want a spanner or pliers.” His eyes flicker to the moon rising in the sky. “Or a flashlight.”

You follow his gaze out to the rising moon, its light not offering enough of a look at your bike to be all that helpful as night begins to fall.

You sigh, wiping perspiration from your forehead with the back of your hand. The man’s lips quirk upwards in a minute smirk at the sight of the grease you accidentally wipe on your head. He thinks it’s cute.

“A spanner would be helpful,” you give in, pulling a pair of pliers from where you’d set them down beneath your knee to show you did at least have a couple of tools handy.

Pulling his hands from his pockets, the tall man turns to the backpack he’d set on the ground behind him. He sets his helmet on the seat of his bike and pulls out a spanner, handing it to you in place of the torque wrench you’ve set at your side.

He’s silent as you thank him and begin adjusting the spanner’s size to detach the fuel line. Standing in silence, he does little more than watch given that you don’t seem to want his help.

When the fuel line finally detaches, you groan as you realize you’d been right about the problem the entire time and the line is blocked. Without an air compressor, there isn’t much you can do to get your bike running again and your shoulders slump in defeat.

“Now d’you need a hand?” He asks with a raised brow and a small smirk.

The look you shoot him is fiery and he’d be a liar to say he doesn’t think your attitude is cute. It suits the strange vibes he gets from you in the best of ways.

“I’ll just call for a tow,” you insist, still refusing the help of the stranger you know nothing about, aside from the fact that he has just about the most high-end street legal sports bike in pristine condition and you find it to be pretentious.

“Suit yourself. I can fix it for free, though.”

You press your lips into a thin line, brow furrowed as you look over his features. The man practically towers over you, he’s built like a tank and dwarfs you in every sense. His expression is aloof, giving away very little about him. You have no reason to believe he’s lying though, so with a sigh, you give in and hand him the spanner he’d lent you.

The man lowers himself beside you, disconnecting the other side of the fuel line entirely as he begins pulling apart the carburetor. You sit back, watching your bike attentively as though he might do damage to it, but his fingers move deftly as if this is all muscle memory to him.

“What’s your name?” You ask as the silence stretches on. It’s a surprisingly comfortable silence, as he grabs a rag and water bottle from his backpack. He glances at you as he wets the rag and begins cleaning the carburetor.

“Sukuna.”

“You know your way around a bike.”

“Been riding for a while.”

You nod. Despite his kind actions, his words are distant and frigid, so you decide not to push the subject.

It’s silent for a while as you sit with your hands splayed on the asphalt behind you, watching his actions. Your eyes survey the man hunched over your bike, admiring the smooth lines of the tattoos that line his jaw, more ink just barely visible along his neck from beneath his jacket. His hair looks freshly dyed and his right eye is dotted in long scars that have you wondering what happened.

If the situation were any different, you might be hesitant to accept his help, but in truth you’re too tired to complain.

It’s not much longer before your bike is back together. Wiping his hands with the rag, he nods to the bike.

“Give ‘er.”

Pushing yourself to your feet, you turn the key. The engine flips once, twice, three times, before finally sputtering to life.

“Oh my god, thank you so much,” you sigh in relief, shaking your head. “I thought the issue was the fuel line,” you groan over the sound of the engine.

“It is. You need to replace it, this should get you a few miles away though.”

You nod affirmatively, reaching down to hand back his tools. Sukuna dumps them in his bag and throws it over his shoulder.

“You’re a lifesaver, I don’t know how to thank you,” you tell him, your mood no longer sour as your bike continues to roar, thankfully not dead on the side of the road anymore.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He simply shrugs.

“Let me buy you a drink, or something,” you insist in spite of your exhaustion, though his cold demeanor doesn’t give you much hope that he’ll accept anyway, so you figure you’ll be able to get some rest regardless of the offer.

As he turns to grab his helmet, you half expect him to start his bike and drive off without another word, ignoring your offer entirely. It’s just the impression he gives you, but he surprises you.

“Keep up, then.”

Your brow raises and before you have a chance to complain that you’re covered in a layer of sweat and grease and you’d meant at a later date, his bike is roaring to life.

You scramble onto your own bike and follow him closely. Sukuna is half-shocked when you actually pull up into the parking lot of a small bar right behind him, pulling your helmet off and shaking your head in an effort to fix your hair.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t find everything about you intriguing. From your bike to the way you ride and your feisty disposition all packaged in such a tiny figure compared to him, he thinks it’s cute. Maybe even something more than that.

He leads the way to the bar wordlessly as you complain about the grease coating your body, but he barely notices the oil marking your skin. He’s used to it, if anything, from working on his own bike.

You aren’t even sure if he’s listening given his flippant attitude and lack of response, but you drone on regardless. It’s better than silence.

Choosing to ignore your frustrated rambles, he orders a whiskey and glances in your direction.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” you tell the bartender with a sweet smile, waving your hand in the air like you don’t much mind what exactly you’re drinking. It’s your turn to surprise Sukuna.

“Don’t think I caught your name,” Sukuna says as you lean over the bar beside him.

You tell him your name with a sweet smile, your mood clearly improved as you take the whiskey and damn-near down it in one swift movement.

When your eyes land on Sukuna again, he’s smirking. He’s not really sure what to make of you nor you of him, but he certainly likes it.

Though you both elect not to have any more alcohol in favor of driving home later, conversation comes easily for the rest of the hour. At least, as easily as it comes for Sukuna.

“Where’d you get your bike?” You ask decidedly, trying to make conversation with the stoic individual.

“A shop up north.”

“Looks like it cost a pretty penny.”

He hums in approval.

That’s about how most conversations with him go, so when you throw your jacket on and insist you should get home, you’re admittedly surprised when he pauses and holds his hand out expectantly.

You stare up at him curiously. Not once had you gotten the impression he was interested in any of your conversations, yet now he wants something from you? You can’t decide what to make of this, what to make of him.

“Sorry, um,” you stare down in confusion at his expectant hand, mouth opening and closing as you try to decide what to say.

“Your phone,” he instructs and your pretty eyes widen as you stare up at him, the difference in stature between you both now incredibly apparent as he dwarfs you when standing over you.

“Oh!” You stare at him with pursed lips and pull your phone out, opening it to your texts. He sends himself a text and hands your phone back wordlessly, before turning his shoulder as he walks out abruptly, leaving you further confused.

Chasing after him, you just barely catch him as he kicks his bike’s stand up and throws his helmet on.

“Thanks again!” You call after him. He glances over his shoulder and though you can’t see his expression behind the dark visor of his helmet, he smirks back at you before driving off.

As you just barely make it back home on your sputtering bike, you manage to replace the fuel line and shoot him a text.

11:53 PM You || fixed the fuel line. thanks again, youre a lifesaver

11:55 PM Sukuna || thanks for the drink.

In all honesty, you figure that’s the last you’ll ever hear from him, but you quickly find out that the cold disposition he gives off isn’t really all there is to him when he asks if you want to go to a bike show a week later.

He fails to mention that his youngest brother Yuji would be joining you for the show, but as you walk the show floor with him and his younger sibling, you realize his brother likely just got all the conversation genes.

Sukuna is still aloof, he doesn't say much to you outside of comments about the bikes and even though he’s the one that invited you, you still can't tell if he enjoys your company. Although he’s quiet, his presence is surprisingly alluring and you're grateful to have someone to listen to your ramblings, even if he doesn't seem interested.

As you walk the length of the convention hall, weaving between crowds of people that seem to part at Sukuna’s menacing figure, Sukuna pauses to look at gorgeous black Yamaha. You barely catch the way he silently stops, managing to point out the pause to Yuji just in time to keep you all from getting separated.

“Don’t think I’ve heard him talk this much in ages,” Yuji comments with a raised brow. You tilt your head towards him, following his gaze to Sukuna.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” the younger man scratches the back of his head. “I don’t have my license yet but I like lookin’ around. He’s usually pretty snippy about which bikes I should be looking at,” he shrugs. “You guys must have a lot in common for him to be so chatty.”

Chatty, you practically scoff to yourself. The man barely said ten sentences to you.

You do notice the way he shoots Yuji a glare or groans about his chatting on occasion, though. Not once does he direct that at you.

Even still, you don't expect him to keep inviting you out. Ten sentences isn’t exactly something to form a friendship on.

Continuing to surprise you, you still hear from him. Next thing you know, you’re invited to ride with him and his brother Choso, invited out to dinner with a group of his friends and he even accepts your invite to see a horror movie with a couple of your friends.

You’re quick to learn that Sukuna is just like that.

Sukuna’s mild and somewhat haughty disposition is something you grow accustomed to as you learn how to talk to him. Though you find yourself talking mostly at him, you realize that’s just how he likes things. He pays a surprising amount of attention to your words, though you don’t tend to notice until he shows it through actions later.

He shows up to your work with takeout on his lunch break when you mention you forgot your lunch. He goes shopping with you despite his distaste for malls when you tell him you need some new clothes. He’s more agreeable when you’re around and his friends are quick to point it out, insisting you need to be there at all times to make him more tolerable, though they’re mostly joking.

He does treat you differently from the rest of his friends. You figure it’s just because your friendship is new, though.

After being invited along on a ride down the highway to a neighboring small town with Sukuna’s friend Uraume and his brother Choso, you eye up Sukuna’s plate. You’d ordered no side with your meal but god his fries look good. You shoot him a curious glance, met with his typical aloof expression, if not one of mild irritation. Glancing again at his fries, you reach over to steal one, pleased when you pop it in your mouth.

Sukuna rolls his eyes at you, muttering under his breath about you ‘being a brat’ and how ‘you should have ordered a side’, but it’s all a show as he lets you steal another one when you smile sweetly at him.

When Choso follows your act, wanting to try the fries as well, Sukuna swats his hand away with a hiss. “My plate isn’t a buffet,” he growls contemptibly. Choso wrinkles his nose, shaking his hand of the harsh slap.

When Sukuna gets up to use the washroom, Choso waits until he’s out of earshot to comment.

“How the hell did you get away with getting some of that asshole’s fries?”

You shrug. “Dunno. He just let me.”

“Grumpy bastard…”

Again, you insist you just don’t know him well and he’s being kind so the action is brushed off.

A week later, Sukuna insists you tag along with his buddy Toji to get drinks, but when you arrive at the meeting spot and pull your helmet off, Sukuna is haughtily arguing with the raven-haired man.

“C’mon, it’s cheap. Their food’s fine.” Toji insists with little more than a raised eyebrow and an unamused sigh.

“What food?” You ask with a smile as you saunter over to the two much taller men.

“Red’s,” Toji responds gruffly, his unamused expression turning to one of intrigue as he realizes you must be Sukuna’s friend. “You must be y/n.”

You grin at him as he smirks.

“Toji,” he introduces himself. “Now can ya tell this asshole that Red’s is cheap?”

Sukuna’s arms are crossed over his chest. “We can do better for cheap.” He all but hisses, his eyes fixed in the distance.

“I’ve never been,” you glance between the two with pursed lips, mentally chuckling to yourself at how much you have to look up to both men. “I think it sounds good.”

Sukuna’s arms fall to his side as his fiery eyes lock on you. He pauses for a moment, sparing a glance at Toji, but those deep eyes return to you with a begrudging sigh as he grumbles something under his breath.

“Fine.”

Toji’s eyes widen as he dangles his keys from his hands, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, he fists the keys as he gets ready to get in his car and head to the bar. He pauses before opening the door, a shit-eating grin spread over his scarred lips.

“Think I need ya to tag along more often, y/n.” He catches the tilt of your head and chuckles. “Think ya tame this shithead a bit.”

Sukuna roars something at Toji as he tries to catch him before the door slams and the car speeds off, leaving you giggling at the interaction.

Toji’s not the last to point it out, either.

You don’t think much of it, though. Sukuna just shows he cares through his actions and that’s how you come to know him as your best friend.

Sukuna is, of course, smitten with you. He adores how perfectly you seem to understand him. He loves the way you invite him along to everything with your friends despite his tendencies to scare others off. He loves that in spite of the trouble he gets himself into, your opinion of him never changes. He loves that you text him about stupid things, and that even when his response is inhospitable, you continue to text him like you would any other friend.

Because you’re his best friend. And he won’t admit it to anyone, but you know. He knows you know.

You get him. 

So of course when you excitedly text him about your date, you have no way of knowing that his naturally cold responses are no longer his usual tone. They’re frigid, maybe even mildly snarky, but over text you don’t see the way his brow is knit tightly in contempt.

When he meets your boyfriend for the first time, you notice the strange tension between your best friend and partner. Your boyfriend brings it up but you had warned him in advance that Sukuna comes across that way, so you brush it off as little more than Sukuna being himself.

Yet, you notice the little things. You’ve known Sukuna for a long time now. You notice the way his jaw tightens when he sees your boyfriend lean down to kiss you at a dinner for your birthday a year into your relationship. You tilt your head questioningly at him from across the table, a silent query, but he doesn’t give you a response, that mild expression never once leaving his eyes as he leans back in his seat.

“Kuna?” Your sweet voice pulls his attention down to you when you pull him aside as everyone is saying goodnight outside the restaurant. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.”

You cock your brow at his flippant response, dismissing you with a wave of his hand. “I know you well enough to know you’re lying,” you insist with an expectant look.

God, that look makes his hardened expression falter. Sukuna is well aware that he’s unapproachable, scary even. His form is built and he towers over most everyone, not to mention his constant disinterested expression and the tattoos he sports.

You often tease him for his ‘resting bitch face’.

Yet here you are, hand on your hip, so small and sweet, a fire lit behind those gorgeous eyes of yours. Cute.

“It’s just been a long day, don’t worry ‘bout it.” He knows you don’t believe him, but it’s the best you’re getting and you know that as well as he does. Hurt flashes through your eyes and he does feel a pang of guilt, but he keeps it locked away as he sighs and pulls something from the pocket of his leather jacket. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

Your wide eyes look up at him in shock. You’d insisted no one should get you a gift, but when you texted him this morning and told him your boyfriend, so cheerily talking to your friends behind the two of you, had forgotten your birthday, he couldn’t leave you empty-handed in that way.

You gingerly reach out and take the box from him. You know what it is instantly and the way your cheeks redden, the way it shocks you to silence has him smirking, mostly to himself. His hands remain in his pockets, his unamused expression locked on your hands that hesitate as you slowly open the velveteen box.

Lying so beautifully strewn in the box is a necklace you pointed out to him when you’d gone shopping together what must have been years ago now. A gorgeous silver chain lays delicately holding a dainty bejeweled star with your birthstone in the center. Of course he’d been paying attention. He always does.

“You didn’t,” it’s all you can manage as you stare at it in disbelief. To your surprise, Sukuna is smiling softly down at you, a rare sight that you want to burn into your retinas.

“You deserve a good birthday.”

You know it’s a dig at your boyfriend, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Maybe that should be a sign, but you’re too caught up in the moment as tears brim your eyes.

“This was so expensive though, I- I- can’t-”

“You can and you will.”

You know when Sukuna demands something, he means it. This is one of those times.

Tears threatening to spill, you wrap your arms tightly around his toned middle. If he weren’t a giant in comparison to you, you might have bowled him over with the force you hug him with.

Sukuna relishes in the moment, memorizing the feeling of your body in his arms, the way you bury your head into his chest, hiding your tears in his hug as they inevitably stain his white V-neck, but he doesn’t care. His arms wrap tightly around you, one of the rare times he returns one of your affections.

When you part from him, using your free hand to wipe your eyes, Sukuna takes the box from you, moving to put the necklace on with ease. He moves like every action he takes is practiced as he confidently clasps the necklace around your neck.

“It’s beautiful,” you hum as you look down at it, running a delicate finger over the pendant.

The salmon-haired man hums mildly. “‘Course. You chose it.”

You examine his eyes, your expression unreadable as you contemplate Sukuna’s actions.

He may be agreeable around you, he may be willing to make compromises with you that he won’t for others, but this is new for him. This is sweet, and he knows you’re thinking such a thing too when he meets those pretty eyes staring up at him. He doesn’t care anymore, though.

He wants you to be happy.

When your boyfriend confronts you about the necklace later that night, you tell him the truth. Maybe you hope he’ll realize he fucked up. Maybe you hope he’ll right his wrongs.

Instead, you end up in an argument as your boyfriend insists that his mistake in forgetting the date was honest but that Sukuna overstepped boundaries.

Maybe your best friend did, in truth.

And so as your boyfriend snaps when you defend your best friend and the argument takes a turn for the worse, maybe it shouldn’t be that same best friend that you turn to. Maybe that will just make things worse.

But the phone only rings twice before he picks up.

He sounds tired, his voice coated in sluggish exhaustion as he mumbles a ‘hello’ on the other line. You hear the rustling of sheets on the other end, a pang of guilt clawing at your throat as you know you’ve woken him up.

“Kuna?” The tone of your voice is foreign to him. Meek, strained. Even earlier in the night when you had confronted him about his cold disposition, your tone still held that unwavering strength and fire that he loves about you, so this wakes him up.

Leaning up on his elbow in bed, he squints at his phone.

“It’s three in the morning, y/n.”

“I know.” You pause and Sukuna waits for you to explain. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to know that he’s listening. “We got into a fight.”

Sukuna sighs, full of disdain, though not towards you. Never towards you.

“You safe?” His voice is surprisingly soft, though you chalk it up to him being tired.

You nod, before realizing he can’t see you. “... yeah.”

He hears you sniffle on the other end of the line and has to physically resist the urge to say things he’ll regret about your boyfriend. “Right. ‘M on my way. Stay put.”

He hangs up, wasting no time in throwing on a pair of gray sweatpants and a plain black V-neck. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, although it doesn’t do him any favors and he isn’t about to waste time styling it. As it stands, you’ve seen him in a worse state after some particularly wild nights that had ended with one of you on the other’s couch.

His bike roars to life outside his apartment and he’s off into the cold night air, barely grazing his skin as his leather jacket and helmet protect him from the bite. He pushes the limits of his bike and of the road as he speeds past any cars he comes across on the short drive to your house, and he’s glad he did when he spots you on your front doorstep, head in your hands in little more than pajama shorts and a tank top.

He’s off his bike in an instant, shaking his head as he takes his helmet off in an effort to fix his hair before he kneels in front of you.

You’re relieved at the sight of him, clearly fresh out of bed and having hurried right over. Your knight in shining armor. Or at least a shiny red helmet.

His brow furrows as he looks you over, spotting the goosebumps that litter your bare legs and arms. 

“Shit,” he mutters as he rolls his shoulders and shrugs his leather jacket off, wrapping it around you. It engulfs your figure almost entirely, draping over you like a dress. If the situation was any different he would think it’s adorable.

You look up at him between long, wet lashes, fresh tears streaking down your makeup-stained cheeks. Your eyes are red and puffy from crying and you’re sure your exhaustion and defeat are written across your face in bright bold lettering by the way he frowns.

“Did he kick you out?”

“It’s a long story,” you mutter, just barely audible.

“I got time.”

There’s a note of contempt that floats between his words and you know just as well as he does that he’s resisting the urge to beat down your door and knock some sense into your boyfriend.

Your mouth opens then closes enough times that Sukuna grows impatient, muscles in his jaw clenching as he grows closer and closer to busting down your door when you finally find words.

“We’ve been fighting on and off since we got home,” you admit. Sukuna raises a brow. That was four hours ago. “He was pissed about- about-” you stammer over your words, biting your lip as you fiddle with the necklace that sits beautifully around your neck. Beautiful like you.

“Me,” Sukuna dryly finishes your sentence.

You frown and he knows he’s right. Of course. Maybe the necklace was overstepping this time, but he’d watched your shitty boyfriend step on you more times than he could count and hadn’t once said a word. He respected you and your fiery demeanor entirely too much to ever want to see you upset.

Yet no matter what path he chose, it seemed you would be upset regardless.

“He took my phone and went through everything,” you clear your throat as your voice cracks mid-sentence, staring down at the phone in your hands. The screen is cracked and Sukuna isn’t sure if he wants to know whether it was shattered before today or not.

Your words set him ablaze in anger. It burns like an itch on his skin and it takes every last ounce of self control that he has to hold himself back and just listen. The contrasting cold air is nice on his skin, soothing what little fury it's able to with its brisk touch.

“Do you remember that photo we took together on Halloween?”

Sukuna nods slowly. He knows exactly where this is going. It was well over a year ago, before you’d started dating your boyfriend, when you had convinced Sukuna to dress as a king and you his queen. He’d had a surprising amount of fun with it and with enough alcohol flowing through his veins, his words had grown more frivolous. He’d spent all night calling you his queen or his princess, pretty much until the moment he’d thrown up, the words ejecting from his dialect along with the alcohol. Regardless, the proof was in the texts between you from that night.

At some point in the night, you’d gotten a photo taken clinging to his shoulders, a calm smile on Sukuna’s lips as he’d carried you with ease. It made him smirk the following morning recalling the memory, glad it hadn’t disappeared with the words or alcohol.

Regardless, he’d missed his chance to shoot his shot, growing too accustomed to having you around to consider you didn’t see his change in attitude around you as anything more than friendly, so he’d retreated to his usual detached self.

Clearly that detachment wasn’t enough for your boyfriend as you flip him your phone screen. So it is newly broken.

God give Sukuna the strength to sit still.

“And you’re outside now, why?”

“I felt sick, I needed air.” You shrug, fiddling with your phone in your lap. “He got mad that I walked away and we ended up fighting again, then he slammed the door in my face.”

“He kicked you out,” Sukuna states matter of factly, venom dripping from each and every word.

“He locked me out,” you shrug again, but Sukuna doesn’t care for the details. You have no keys, not to your bike or your house, no jacket, you’re in shorts and a tank top… jesus.

“What a fucking prick.” With that, he’s on his feet and you know he’s about to slam his fist on your door. Or through it. Sukuna may be kind with you but the bad boy persona he sports isn’t a persona at all- Sukuna would not hesitate to knock your boyfriend clean out. He’d been to jail before, one more time wasn’t a big deal if it meant keeping you safe.

“Kuna.” He pauses at the plain tone you say his name in. It’s not a warning, it’s not scolding. He doesn’t know what to make of it. “Not now.”

He huffs and clicks his tongue. His jaw clenches as his shrunken, furious pupils stare down at you, but when he notices your legs are shaking from the cold, he relents.

“Fine.” The word is grumbled as his hands reach for your waist and lift you to your feet with little more than a hum when you’re standing at your full height, barely reaching his broad shoulders. He leaves a hand on the small of your back, setting his helmet over your head and zipping his jacket up over your small frame in an effort to keep you safe when you climb onto the back of his bike.

Sukuna glances back at you as you cling to his toned abdomen, his bike pulling away quickly. Riding with Sukuna is familiar. Though you normally follow him, his quick riding pace and not-entirely-legal maneuvers don’t scare you the way they once did, because everything Sukuna does feels practiced, rehearsed.

Pulling into his apartment building, he pulls the bike into a parking spot and lets you hand him the helmet as you follow him up to his apartment.

It’s a bit of a mess, dishes sit in the sink, empty bottles and cans littering the counter and a garbage bag sits at the door, but it doesn’t matter because you’re warm and you’re safe and it’s not like he’d let you take the couch anyway given the current situation.

Sukuna moves to at least tidy the couch, fully expecting you to make yourself at home like you always do, but when he turns to see you’re staring at the ground in the entrance, his jacket wrapped around you like a blanket, he frowns. That’s not like you.

In fact, in all the years you two have known one another, Sukuna’s never seen you so spaced out.

“Did he hurt you?”

It’s his best guess as to why you’re so out of it, but when you shake your head, he’s simply at a loss.

Sukuna doesn’t do comfort. He’ll watch your favorite movies with you and make you food, but he doesn’t do words of comfort. He’s a man of action, and although the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on is standing in his apartment, he doesn’t dare to act on the stray thoughts running through his mind, even though he knows you deserve to be treated right.

Coming to stand in front of you, he sighs.

“Whaddya want me to do?”

Anyone else would assume he’s irritated with your presence, but you know it’s a genuine question. Your friend doesn’t know what you need and he’s trying his best to figure it out. He’s trying to help.

“Can I have a blanket?” You ask him, shoulders hunched in exhaustion.

There’s silence in the apartment as Sukuna moves to his bedroom to grab a blanket.

“The red one please!” You call after him as though that isn’t the one he’s already grabbing. He knows your favorite.

Returning to you, he drops the red blanket in your arms, his heart twisting as you pull his jacket off and hand it to him in exchange.

“Can I, um, come in?”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow questioningly, subconsciously fiddling with the tongue piercing in his mouth. Not once have you ever asked him to come in. You always, always, made yourself at home, even though it was much to his dismay the first few times you’d let yourself into his apartment in spite of his grumbles and irritated huffs.

Sukuna’s reaction is all the permission you need as you realize he must find the whole situation strange, but everything feels foreign to you. It’s not like you haven’t stayed at Sukuna’s before, it’s not like the couch isn’t your second bed, it’s that you feel like you’re betraying your boyfriend by being here.

Not that Sukuna would do anything anyway, you know he doesn’t see you in such a way. You may be his closest friend but he’s never once shown any sort of other interest towards you. Even if he did see you that way, he’s just not that kind of person.

Still, you gingerly sit at the edge of the couch, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping yourself in the massive blanket. Sukuna moves to sit beside you, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. He looks at you expectantly, waiting to see what you want to do, if you want to talk.

But you don’t answer, and Sukuna is at a loss of what to do. A contemplative silence settles over you as he leans his head back against the couch, eyeing you and hoping you’ll say something.

“Can I ask you something, Ryo?”

The use of the nickname he lets only you call him quirks his brow as he realizes you’re serious.

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

That’s… not what the gruff man was expecting to hear.

His jaw tightens as his piercing eyes stare down at you. He rubs a hand over his face as he tries to make sense of the question, too tired to be thinking this deeply over something. He stares at you pensively as though the world rests on this one response.

“Yeah. You’re pretty.”

Your eyes fall to your knees and the way Sukuna’s head tilts, you’re sure he thinks he’s made a mistake.

“Thanks, Kuna.”

“The fuck did that prick say to you that has ya askin’?”

You hesitate, avoiding his discerning eyes as Sukuna’s chest surges with anger. Your best friend’s fist clenches in his lap as he leans forward, examining your expression.

“What the fuck did he say?” Sukuna’s voice is monstrous, but you could never fear his anger knowing he’s never once directed it your way. You know he’s irritated you haven’t answered yet, but even between his irritation and the gruff tone he uses, he could never scare you.

“He told me I couldn’t do better than him.”

“And?” Sukuna pushes demandingly, his fingers clasping the back of his couch so hard you wonder if he has the strength to crush it.

“That he’s way out of my league and should have chosen…” you trail off, not oblivious to the way Sukuna quirks a brow for you to continue. When you meekly whisper your friend’s name, Sukuna’s seething.

Fury practically drifts from his body like smoke and to your surprise you do hear the couch creak beneath his hand.

You’ve only ever seen Sukuna this angry once before.

Sukuna’s closest friend aside from you, Uraume, often accompanied you on your trips to the bar with Sukuna and would join in on your rides with their own bike. The two of them were two peas in a pod, similar in all the ways you weren’t, but if anything it made you closer to Uraume for having an understanding of Sukuna.

For that exact reason, you’d spotted Uraume’s discomfort a mile away when someone began hitting on them. Uraume could handle themself, so you didn’t think much of it until the man’s hand was tightly gripping Uraume’s arm.

Alarmed, you pointed out Uraume’s discomfort to your drunk best friend and he didn’t hesitate to clock the man hitting on them.

So when Sukuna is on his feet with a familiar rage brewing and doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself, you know you have to calm him down before you’re bailing him out of jail again. It’s not something you want to make a habit of.

“Kuna, it’s okay.”

“No!” He hisses, swinging his hand through the air as he stares at the door.

“Please, I’ll be okay, I promise,” you try to insist, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“It’s not okay for him to say shit like that to you,” he growls, glowering from where he stands over you, eyes on the door. He wants to leave, you know he does.

“It’s not, I know, but it’s not your problem.”

“Not my- What the fuck don’t you get?”

Your eyes widen at Sukuna’s question. His voice is frigid as ever, but for once you feel the shards of ice pricking your skin.

“What?” Your dumbfounded and hurt question hangs in the air momentarily as you try to process this outburst.

Sukuna’s scarred eye twitches as he runs his tongue over his teeth. He huffs out a breath as he sees your expression, forcing himself to calm down so as not to make this about him. He doesn’t want to say something he regrets, and he certainly doesn’t want that icy tone to be directed at you, ever again.

“He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”

Your shoulders fall at his words, his chest heaving as he stares at you with an unidentifiable emotion.

“Where’s this coming from?” Your brow knits tightly over the bridge of your nose. As you subconsciously chew on your lower lip, Sukuna has to do everything in his power not to stare at your lips.

“Look, I just care, alright? Or somethin’.”

You barely know how to react to your best friend’s admission of care for you. Not once has he ever shown an ounce of his care through words. Sure, he’s shown it in other ways, but this is a first for him.

His gaze is fixed on the kitchen, so he barely notices when you stand up and set your hand on his arm, your thumb comfortingly rubbing his arm.

“I appreciate it, Kuna.” You tell him with a tired smile, doing your best to reassure him that you’re okay in spite of the situation. “Just… can we please just watch a movie or something?” You’re too tired, too worn out to handle everything going on right now and you’re afraid the buildup of emotions in your chest will overflow if you don’t distract yourself soon.

Sukuna’s focus fixes on your hand on his arm, the way it seems to burn into him in a way he’d long grown painfully familiar with. It wasn’t uncommon for you to grab his arm and drag him somewhere, or hug him each time you said hello. Hell, the Halloween you’d both gotten entirely too drunk, you’d been on Sukuna’s back half of the night giggling and telling him, your King, where to take you.

Yet this time, the burn hurts. It hurts him to see you here with dried tears on your cheeks. It angers him to know your boyfriend had gotten away with treating you in such a way for so long.

He lets out a breath through his nose and takes a seat on the couch again at your insistence, watching as you drape the big blanket over the both of you. And god is it cute when you do, making sure he’s completely covered from the waist down like you’re tucking him in.

When you lean back against the arm of the couch, slinking comfortably back into the cushions and grab the remote, Sukuna feels his body begin to relax too, allowing himself to focus on your wellbeing here and now rather than the fact that he wants to pummel your boyfriend.

He’s not shocked when you flip through options and eventually settle on a Studio Ghibli movie he knows you’ve seen a million times because he’s seen it one too many times.

You know he doesn’t mind although he isn’t the biggest fan of the movie. Either way, it’s nearly five in the morning and you both know you’ll be asleep before you know it.

–

The next morning as cool air pours through a window and birdsong decorates each blow of the breeze, the pounding of your head is a rude awakening. It’s too early for you to be up given that you were awake so late, but your phone seems to think otherwise.

Your eyes flicker open blearily, and you lean up in bed with a yawn, realizing suddenly that you’re in Sukuna’s room and he’s nowhere to be found. Sitting up fully, you bring a hand up to your temple, pressing on it in an effort to ease the pain as you search for your phone, finding it eventually on the floor a small distance away.

Hopping down from the tall mattress, you yawn as you stare at the screen, your heart clenching at the sight of the contact photo on-screen as your phone rings. Your boyfriend has his arms wrapped around your middle, his chin resting on your shoulder as you both grin. With the way your screen is now shattered, it looks almost like a scene from a movie in the way it’s practically screaming a warning at you.

You’d spent far too much time alone with your thoughts the previous night. Hell, even with Sukuna’s comfort, his disdain for your boyfriend had been a bit of a wakeup call. Still, your thumb hovers over the green button.

“Hello?” Your voice is broken as you answer the phone.

“Thank god baby, I was so worried about you. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have left you outside last night, I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

You take a couple of steps forward, walking towards the living room as your eyes lock onto the tall man draped over the couch, his limbs entirely too long for the cushions. He must have carried you to his bed at some point and taken the couch.

Your stomach twists as you realize your boyfriend’s words are all lost on you, you didn’t hear a single one. You’re not sure when you tuned him out, or how long you’ve been staring at Sukuna when your boyfriend’s words pull you from your thoughts.

“Y/n? Did you hear me?”

“Sorry, I’m a bit out of it. What did you say?”

He sighs in frustration on the other side of the line and you wince as his tone gains a familiar edge. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you so we can talk.”

“I- um-” you pause, brow furrowing as you stare at your best friend, who begins to shuffle from his uncomfortable position on the couch as your soft voice awakens him from slumber.

“Y/n?” Your boyfriend’s voice cuts through the haze again, but you’re at a loss for words as Sukuna lifts his head, irritation written across his face at being awake, but when he flips over on the couch and spots you, his demeanor softens.

“Yeah. You’re pretty.”

Sukuna’s words ring in your head over and over and you bite your lip. He pushes himself up on the couch, moving to stand a small distance in front of you in three long strides.

Sukuna may not have a way with words, but you never had a hard time telling what he was thinking just by the way he looks at you. As he stares down at you with a tilt of his head, you know exactly what’s going through his mind.

Like that, it all clicks. Of course he hated your boyfriend. The signs were always there, you just didn’t pay them any mind. The reason he was colder than usual towards your boyfriend is as obvious as the sun in the sky.

Sukuna thinks you’re pretty. He wasn’t trying to comfort you when he said that. That’s not who Sukuna is. That may as well be an admission that he would move mountains for you.

“Y/n, baby? What’s going on? I want you home, now.”

Your chest twists at his tone and as your eyes meet Sukuna’s, you wonder if your phone is loud enough for him to hear when his lip twitches.

You clear your throat, your eyes never once leaving Sukuna’s from where he stands with tousled hair, wrinkled sweatpants and a bare chest. It’s not unfamiliar to you, you know Sukuna is beyond hot. You know Sukuna could take anyone he wants home and you know he has a streak of doing so, but now that you think about it, it’s been a long time since you’ve seen Sukuna with anyone, and you know why now.

“You left me outside all night in the cold.” Your voice is meek, still mindlessly chewing on your lip as you stare at the tattooed man’s eyes, now lit ablaze with a fire that hadn’t been there earlier. “You know what- I should go.”

“What? Baby, come on we need to talk-”

“I have nothing to talk to you about. We’re-” You pause, your stomach stirring uncomfortably as all of your emotions seem to collide and collapse within you. You feel the tears that threaten to spill, your composure that threatens to break as you ball your hand into a fist at your side.

Sukuna’s hand twitches beside him as he does everything in his power not to lean down and kiss you then and there. He wants you. He wants all of you. He wants to show your boyfriend everything he’s about to lose.

He wants to make you his. He wants you to make him yours.

Yet, all he can reasonably do is set a hand on your upper arm. He can’t be selfish. Not when you’ve come to him in your time of need.

“We’re done.”

“Nonono, we are not done, hold on-”

“I’ll come grab my bike and my things soon-”

“-let’s talk about this, I just made a mistake, okay-”

“-goodbye.”

“Don’t hang up, baby, hold on, fuck-”

Your hand falls to your side as you stare up at the taller man.

He doesn’t say a word as a tear runs down your cheek, shortly followed by a sob wracking your body. Sukuna’s hand moves from your arm to the back of your head as he pulls you into his chest, holding you there as you cry against his bare skin, tears wetting his toned pecs.

It’s not his ideal morning, but at least he can shamelessly say now that he wants to rearrange your boyfriend’s face with his fist.

He won’t say it anyway, though. He knows better.

Your best friend doesn’t say anything but his actions speak volumes as he holds you to him protectively, unmoving as he envelops you into his form. He exhales deeply as he holds you tightly to his body, his fingers gripping you tightly. It’s reassuring to know you have him in your time of need and eventually your tears begin to subside.

You blink your wet lashes against his skin as your warm breath fans his chest and abdomen. He shoots you a disgruntled look as your lashes tickle his skin and he jolts at the feeling.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warns through gritted teeth, but it holds no malice.

You chuckle through tears. “Sorry, Ryo.”

He rolls his shoulders and holds you again, letting your face fall against his chest once more. This time, you’re careful to keep your eyes closed to avoid tickling him.

He’s surprisingly patient with you as he lets you stand there, only moving to take and silence your phone when he grows frustrated with the vibration.

When you finally settle, he leads you back to the couch, tossing his shirt and the blanket off the couch and onto the floor.

“Did you move me to the bed?”

He hums affirmatively, his chest warming as you smile at him. “Thanks, I could have taken the couch though. It looked a bit too small for y-”

“No.”

You breathe out through your nose in a half-hearted laugh. There’s never any use arguing with him when he’s made up his mind, so you give it up. Oh well.

“Can I stay here for a bit?”

You figure Sukuna will huff and puff and make a show out of it but he nods easily.

“Thanks,” you sigh, sinking back into the couch.

You stare at the ceiling. What a morning. You’ve barely been awake for ten minutes and your heart is pounding in your chest just from sitting beside your best friend, someone you’ve known for years.

Someone you’d long pushed any attraction for down into the depths of your heart in an effort to save yourself the heartbreak of being with someone who seemed to have no interest in you. Hell, you’d once thought he was emotionally unavailable, and yet…?

You can’t help but stare.

He’s exhausted, you’re not sure how much longer he’ll be able to stay awake as his head bobs down onto the back of the couch, mouth slightly ajar as sleep settles over his form. You smile softly at the sight, swallowing at the yearning feeling of wanting to settle into his warmth, though you know you shouldn’t.

You’re a mess. You’ve heard your boyfriend- ex- say things you aren’t ready to admit to yourself that leave fresh stinging wounds. Hell, that’s an entire can of worms you don’t want to touch right now. Your belongings, your bike, your entire life is all trapped in his house, in the house of someone that-

God why had you let him step all over you like that? It leaves you frowning as your heart twists and clenches uncomfortably. You loved him. Deep down, you know it’s the reason. You convinced yourself he loved you too.

You curse yourself for overlooking your feelings for Sukuna, for pushing them down. He’d always cared deeply for you, the signs had always been there, yet you never paid them any mind.

Chewing on your lower lip again, you get to your feet and grab the blanket off the floor, draping it over him. Your thumb brushes over the faded black lines that race over his shoulders and down his collar bones as you tuck the blanket over his shoulders.

He hums subconsciously, a serene smile pulling at his lips.

You smile back, turning to get some rest yourself. When Sukuna kicks his foot out suddenly and damn-near trips you, you let out a surprised yelp, spinning around to confront him.

“What the hell, Kuna?” You harshly snarl at him.

His lidded eyes just barely open, your reaction earning a smirk from him. There’s his feisty best friend.

“C’mere, it’s cold.”

It’s not cold, and Ryomen Sukuna is not sly, but your stomach flutters and your heart jumps to your throat anyway. Your shoulders fall to your sides in surprise, unable to be frustrated with him.

He flips the blanket up, his arm extended over the back of the couch. His expression is mild as usual but when you take him up on his offer and plop down next to him, his racing heart tells you everything you need to know.

Pulling your knees up onto the couch, you let him pull you against is chest, your head resting on his broad shoulder as he barely lasts a minute before the rhythm of his breathing steadies and his head falls back on the couch again.

You’re not long for the world of the waking either as you succumb to the temptation of sleep on his warm chest.

When your eyes flicker open again, your head has fallen into Sukuna’s lap and he’s splayed in what looks like an uncomfortable position with his arm and leg hanging off the couch. His head is still leaned back against the back of the couch with his mouth hanging open as soft snores part his lips.

It’s not the first time you’ve seen him asleep. You’ve spent many hungover mornings at his apartment and vice versa but now in the gentle morning light with the distant sound of birdsong as the only noise disturbing his snores, he looks peaceful.

You shuffle on his lap in an effort to get a better look at his serene expression, but his strained groan suggests that you may have awoken him earlier than he would have liked.

“Can ya cut that out?” He grumbles without opening his eyes as he reaches down and adjusts your head to lay more on his abdomen.

The irritation in his voice doesn’t hold a candle to the sincerity in which his arm now cradles you against him and you giggle, to which he opens an eye to observe you.

“Sorry,” you hum. He exhales as he closes his eyes again, sliding further down on the couch.

You lay in bliss on his toned and horribly attractive bare chest for what only feels like a few minutes before his eyes peel open and he’s drinking in the sight of you, his gorgeous best friend, smiling at him from his chest.

And oh my god, Ryomen Sukuna is blushing.

Would you really be his best friend if you didn’t point it out?

“Kuna?”

“Hm?”

“You a lil flustered?”

Sukuna’s brow furrows deeply. “I am not.”

“You’re blushing.”

“It’s warm in here, you’re laying on top of me and we have a blanket,” he refutes with an edge to his voice that tells you that you’re poking a nerve.

You also know him well enough to know it’s faux anger, playful if anything.

“Funny, I was told it was cold a couple of hours ago.”

His lip curls, chest rising and falling beneath you as he huffs. “You push my buttons.” You can see from the way a muscle in his jaw works that he’s fiddling with his tongue piercing.

“I could push more than just your buttons,” your voice drips with confidence, lowering an octave at the implication. You pull a hand out from beneath your chin, running a dainty finger across the length of his collar bone.

Sukuna’s pupils dilate in an instant, his attention drawn to your finger. He swallows hard, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smirk. All signs of his contempt forgotten, warmth swirls in those gorgeous eyes of his, but the smirk on his lips is devilish.

“Careful, princess,” he warns in a gruff voice that has you clenching your thighs together with wide eyes. Sukuna’s brow twitches as he feels your legs shuffle, entirely too happy with himself at getting such a reaction from you all from two words. He chuckles, his chest rumbling beneath you as you hide your face in his chest, heat radiating from your cheeks.

Tension is ripe in the air between you both when you finally meet Sukuna’s intense gaze and it makes a question pop into your mind.

“How long?” The words are blurted out and Sukuna shifts beneath you to get a better view.

“What are you on about?”

“How long have you liked me?”

Sukuna’s scoff hits the air before he can even register he’s made the noise. “Go get ready or whatever so we can pick up your shit.” His brow is pulled into a tight scowl as he all but shoves you to the ground.

You barely manage to catch yourself before falling on your ass, rolling your eyes as you steady yourself.

“Kuuuna!” You coo with a grin, but before you have a chance to tease him any further, Sukuna lunges at you. “Wait, wait-”

You shriek in protest as he barrels into your legs, effortlessly lifting you over his shoulder. He pays no mind to any of your protests, nor your kicking and squirming against him as he dumps you with little grace on his bed.

“What-”

“Stop complainin’ and go change or shower or whatever y’ gotta do. I want your bike back.”

Sitting up as you attempt to reorient yourself, you blink a couple of times and manage to call his name out just before he’s turning away.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you tell him, staring down at your pajamas.

“You’ve been leaving shit here for years, find something in my closet.”

“Have I?” You wonder aloud, suddenly realizing your hungover mornings passed in his apartment are likely the culprit for many missing outfits. “Wait, why do you want my bike back?” You realize suddenly, but he’s already shutting the door to his room and leaving you in tranquility.

Standing in the silence broken only by distant birdsong and the muffled sounds of traffic, you find your gaze lingering on the door where he once stood.

How long? You wonder to yourself. How many signs, how many signals had you missed or brushed off all these years under the assumption that your grumpy best friend was just that- your best friend?

You set a hand over your fast-beating heart, trying to steady the pace it’s beating at as emotions run rampant through you. Between the shock of realization of Sukuna’s feelings and the shitty night you’d had- your birthday, by the way- you can’t help the shaky exhale that parts your lips.

It’s a lot to take in.

You take your time showering, enjoying the way the warm water rinses away all signs of the prior night. It’s a warm respite from the days that are beginning to grow frosty as winter approaches. Most importantly, the white noise of the water falling drowns out the steady stream of jumbled thoughts flowing like a river through your mind.

Perusing Sukuna’s closet, you do manage to find more of your clothes than you had expected.

“My nice leggings were here the whole time?” You mutter to yourself as you pull them from a pile of pants. Along with them, you manage to find a pair of jeans, more shirts than you’d care to admit, an old jacket and a hoodie.

Pulling on a form-fitting black low-cut shirt and a red leather jacket, you poke your head out of the bedroom door.

“Why’d you never give any of this back?”

Sukuna’s leaning out the window with a cigarette held between two fingers. He blows a puff of smoke out into the cool fall air before turning to you. He’s still in his sweatpants but has pulled his shirt on.

“I used to bring ‘em back to your place when I visited but they always ended up back on my couch,” he shrugs simply. “Wasn’t worth the time.”

“I didn’t know it was this much clothing.”

“Your memory’s shit.”

“Ouch,” you hold a hand to your heart, feigning being hurt.

He stubs out the cigarette, waving the smoke out the window with his arm before shutting it. “Done in there?”

You nod and exchange places with Sukuna as he showers. He takes less than a quarter of the time you did and is out with the most effortlessly cool style that you can’t help but be jealous of him.

His typical black leather jacket hangs off his shoulders with a vintage Harley Davidson shirt beneath. He sports ripped jeans on his lower half and blackout shades sit atop his spiked pink hair.

“See something you like?”

You barely manage to utter out a pathetic ‘uh’ before Sukuna’s chuckling at you as he catches you eyeing him from your place on the couch. He makes his way around the couch, patting your shoulder encouragingly.

“Let’s go.”

Shaking your head to clear your mind, you get to your feet and follow Sukuna to the door, stopping him before he can leave.

“Hey. Can you stay on the sidewalk while I talk to him?”

The tall man pauses at your serious tone, examining your expression. “Why?”

You know why he’s asking.

“I’m serious, Ryo. I don’t want you two fighting.”

“He treated you like shit, y/n.”

“I- I know.”

His jaw clenches. “The piece of shit deserves-”

“I know, okay? Please, this is what I’m trying to prevent. Besides, if you get into trouble, I’ll leave your ass in jail this time.”

His head falls back, eyes closed as he comes to terms with just how serious you are. He rolls his shoulders backwards once before nodding. “Whatever, fine.” His tone drips with exasperation and anger and you can only hope at this point that he means what he says.

“Thank you,” you sigh in relief, falling into place beside him as he leads the way down to his bike.

Though you rode behind him less than twelve hours ago, somehow it feels different today as he places his helmet on you and pulls you tight to his broad form. His feisty little backpack, so cute in his helmet. He’s not oblivious to the way your hands roam his abs either as a smirk pulls at his features. It’s a sweet momentary distraction from his searing anger.

It takes every ounce of self control that Sukuna has to stay at his bike as he watches you ring the doorbell of your own house. Thank god for the cold air keeping his anger from simmering through his skin. He’s sure he’d be a pile of molten anger otherwise.

You shuffle uncomfortably at the doorstep, knowing entirely too well that this is going to go poorly. You were practically asking for a fight by showing up with Sukuna but what better option do you have? Your wallet and keys are still sitting soundly on the nightstand of the bed you’d spent the last several months sleeping in. At least, that’s where they should be.

It takes a moment before the door creaks open, your ex’s surprised wide eyes staring back at you.

“Shit, thank god you’re home-”

You barely manage to duck from his grasp as he attempts to pull you into his embrace. Your heart pounds hard in your chest as you face your ex, whose face contorts to one of pain when you duck away from him.

“I told you-” You mentally curse yourself as your voice breaks. Closing your eyes, you readjust and face your ex with confidence. “We’re done.”

“We need to talk,” he insists, his voice sickeningly sweet, and it almost makes you want to gag the way he swings between sweet nothings and manipulative cords that twist your heart.

“We talked for four hours last night. There’s nothing left to talk about!” You swing a hand through the air for emphasis as your voice rises, staring at him in disbelief. “Just let me in, I need my keys and-”

His arm swings out to block the door, knuckles white as he grips the frame of the door. His brow curls upwards in… frustration? Irritation? Anger? Pain? You’re not sure. “This is your home. You belong with me.”

You swallow the bile in your throat like a stone straight to the pit of your stomach. Once words like that would have made you swoon, now you feel as though you’re a deer in the headlights staring at a man you don’t recognize. A man who holds the barrel of a metaphorical gun.

You spare a glance behind you for reassurance, spotting Sukuna sitting at his bike. If it’s possible for a man to have smoke spewing from his ears, Sukuna is the spitting image of such a thing. His face is red with anger, hands clenched at either side of his body as he tries desperately to hold himself back.

He still remembers the way you excitedly told him about your new boyfriend. About how sweet he was, how kind he was. Although it pained him to know it was someone else making you happy, he was just glad you were happy. But when you had invited him to meet your boyfriend, Sukuna couldn’t help but feel as though the man didn’t match your description.

He’d tried to convince himself he was just being jealous, but the more time he spent around you, the more he noticed.

The last straw for Sukuna was when you had invited him, your boyfriend, and some of your closest friends along to see the latest installment in the Predator franchise. You’d stopped for dinner first and your boyfriend had insisted on ordering for you.

Sukuna hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but he had found it strange when a salad had been set in front of you. Not once had Sukuna ever seen you order a salad. Well, he had, but as a side. Never as the entire meal.

He’d tried to brush it off but when you’d decided on popcorn at the movie and your boyfriend had insisted you didn’t need it, Sukuna made a point of ordering a large one and sharing it with you.

Now as you look back at him uncertainly, every bone in Sukuna’s body screams to move. Yet his brain tells him to listen to you. He takes a breath in an effort to stay calm, deciding to respect your wishes.

“You brought him here?” Your ex pales as he follows your line of sight.

That seems to give you the confidence to face him again as anger sears through your blood. “You left me outside alone! He came to get me!” You search his face for any sign of remorse. When you don’t find it, tears prick at your eyes. Over a year spent together and he can’t even show you an ounce of kindness.

“I told you baby, it was a mistake!”

“No- No. No, a mistake is forgetting to turn off the sink, not leaving me outside in the cold with nothing but a broken phone.” Your voice drips with venom as the cold of the previous night envelops you in its memory, a reminder that this is for the best.

“Your phone isn’t broken, get over it y/n.” You glance down at his fist as it balls at his side.

“You shattered it.” You deadpan.

“Can we forget about the phone? For fuck’s sake.” He lifts his fist in the air to bring it up to his forehead as he attempts to calm himself down. “Look-” he shoots Sukuna a glance before smiling, his voice growing honeyed. “We’ll figure things out, okay? Why don’t you come in?”

You hesitate. You see the red flags as clear as day now that the fog has lifted, and you know Sukuna is grateful when you pleadingly look at him. His signal to come beat the shit out of your ex. Well, no, it isn’t. But he wishes it was.

Regardless, he’s up the front lawn to the door of the small house in an instant, standing behind you with all the self-control he can physically muster.

“We’re having a private conversation, would you mind-”

“Whatever you can say in front of me, you can say in front of him.” You insist, backing into Sukuna as your ex reaches for your arm. You’re thankful in this moment that your closest friend is nearly seven feet and built like a brick wall as it could never really matter who he’s up against, he’ll always be the scariest one in the room.

Your ex’s mouth curls into a snarl, eyeing Sukuna’s hands that rest easily on your upper arms.

“You’ve gotta be-” he grumbles to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his hand that isn’t blocking you from entering the house. “Come on baby, you know you belong with me and not-” he cuts himself off as he shoots Sukuna an icy glance.

You shift uncomfortably at the tone he uses as he says that you belong with him, growing uneasy the longer you’re in his presence. Steeling your resolve, you straighten yourself and muster as much confidence as you can.

“This isn’t about Sukuna. You left me outside in the cold last night and I called my best friend to get me,” you tell him without missing a beat. Sukuna is practically grinning behind you as your ex’s jaw clenches but you don’t see the exchange between the two men. “Oh, and I don’t belong with or to anyone.”

Sukuna squeezes your arm in reassurance.

“I need my keys and wallet. I’m taking my bike and some clothes.”

Your ex mulls over your words before relenting finally, just as you’re beginning to think you’ll be without belongings. “Fine, but he stays outside.”

You glance up at Sukuna, whose expression is unreadable. “Fine,” you agree, slipping from Sukuna’s grasp and into the house. Your ex goes to close the door in Sukuna’s face, but a steady hand stops him just as you dash out of sight into your old bedroom.

“Let go of the door, man.”

“Leave the door open, man,” Sukuna warns mockingly in a sneer.

“She’s my-”

“She’s not. She’s not yours. She doesn’t belong to you.”

“Go fuck yourself, Sukuna.” He rolls his eyes, pressing more of his weight against the door, but it’s nothing compared to the bulk Sukuna packs.

“Consider yourself lucky I’m not rearranging your face right now,” his deep eyes blaze as he leans closer to your ex, his words dangerously low. If ever Sukuna is thankful that he knows he’s a scary person, it’s right now as your ex flinches back and relents, leaving the door open and leaving Sukuna at the door.

Your ex disappears from Sukuna’s sight and he stands up straight, turning to the side as he stares at your bike. He knows you can handle yourself, but he still doesn’t love the prospect of you being alone with your ex for any period of time.

Sukuna especially hates how long it takes. He’s not sure how much you need to pack and he can’t make out whatever you’re talking about with your ex but each passing moment he grows less patient and less willing to wait outside.

Just as he’s thinking of stepping inside, he sees your tiny figure with a backpack and a suitcase, keys dangling from your fingers and your wallet held firmly in your hand. The relief on your face when you lock eyes with Sukuna is somewhat heartwarming, but what isn’t is the way your ex tries to grab your wrist as you make your way to the door.

You pull against him but his grip fastens.

Sukuna sees red. He sees red and he doesn’t think twice about stepping into what was once your house.

“Don’t touch her.”

Your eyes widen at the sight of Sukuna making his way towards you with gritted teeth. “No, no, no! Sukuna! It’s fine, I can handle this!” Your hand with your wallet and keys flies up as you maneuver yourself between him and your ex.

Your ex’s hand doesn’t loosen even when your arm physically blocks Sukuna from laying a beating on him.

You take a breath, looking between the two men. “I’m leaving. Please let go,” you say softly, so calmly it almost breaks Sukuna’s heart that your ex’s actions seem so normal to you.

“We aren’t done talking-”

“We are. I’ll be back for the rest of my things later.” You tug your wrist again, sending a pleading look to your ex, but his grip only tightens. “Please let go.”

“Y/n, please. Please, we can work this out.”

“Let go,” you tell him firmly, ignoring his words.

“Please-”

“I don’t know if you’re incapable of listening or if you just want your head bashed in, but I’d listen to her.” Sukuna’s voice is a warning, dripping with malevolence you’ve never heard from him before. His chest is pressed hard against your free hand and you aren’t sure you can hold him back much longer.

“Ryo,” you plead, looking between the two men as you try to pull your wrist again. Your ex’s hand twitches at Sukuna’s words before loosening and falling to his side. You breathe out a sigh of relief, glancing down at the bruising markings his fingers left behind.

“So he’s Ryo now, huh?”

You glare pointedly at your ex, knowing that one wrong word will have him with his face caved in.

Sukuna’s intense stare never once leaves your ex, but he does allow you to hand him your suitcase and gently tug his forearm to follow you out the door.

Your ex watches from the door as Sukuna follows you to your bike. His intent gaze has your hair standing on end but you choose to ignore the feeling in favor of hopping on your bike.

The sound of your bike roaring to life puts both you and Sukuna at ease and you ride down the driveway, stopping next to his bike. He jogs after you with your suitcase still in-hand.

Sukuna is quiet, which isn’t unusual for him but you can practically feel the anger coming off of him in droves like smoke. Kicking your bike’s stand out, you hop off and flip his Ducati’s storage compartment open, pulling out a couple of straps to secure your suitcase to the back of your bike.

“Ready?”

You pull your friend’s attention from your ex finally as your hand comes to rest on his bicep. His eyes travel from your face to your arm that rests on him, where he can see the way your wrist is reddened and sure to bruise.

Realizing the sight of your reddened arm has his jaw clenching with anger, you move it behind your back and out of sight.

“Kuna, please.”

His intense gaze examines yours as the breeze faintly ruffles his spiked hair. He’s completely still apart from the muscle working in his jaw as he thinks over his options at this moment, but his chest heaves as he sighs in exasperation and gives in.

“Whatever,” he growls, shooting a poisonous look back at the door that your ex hasn’t moved from. Sukuna haughtily pulls his helmet on over his head, flipping his visor down before getting on his bike and accelerating quickly.

Based on the way Sukuna weaves through traffic and carelessly speeds through lights, you know he’s furious. You pull your bike into the parking spot next to him a couple of minutes after he pulls in, finding him pacing in the parking garage.

Shutting off your bike and pulling off your helmet, you approach him with angled brows, trying to reassure him. “Thanks for coming with me, I appreciate it.” He’s blinded by rage and you’re not even sure if he hears you. “Kuna, I’m okay,” you insist, reaching out to put a hand on his arm but he still brushes past you.

Sighing, you unload your suitcase from the back of your bike and return the bungee cables to the storage compartment of the Ducati as you let Sukuna blow off some steam.

Once everything is ready to go up to Sukuna’s apartment, you turn your attention back to him.

“Can we go up to your place?”

“He hurt you,” Sukuna hisses with pupils the size of pinpricks. It would be intimidating if you didn’t know that anger was directed elsewhere.

“It’s nothing really, it doesn’t hurt.”

“Fucking asshole, I should have-”

“Nope, we’re not going into that. I don’t want to know what you think you should have done.”

You grab your suitcase and begin rolling it through the parkade to the elevator, relieved when you hear a frustrated grunt behind you and a pair of keys clinking. The ride up to his apartment is silent, shrouded in anger.

Really, you should be the angry one but if anything, you're more relieved. Relieved that you have someone like Sukuna to stay with, someone who’s so willing to come get you at three in the morning when you need him most.

Sukuna swings the door to his apartment open, slamming against the doorstop loudly before creaking shut. His hand flies to his pocket as he trudges across the apartment, tossing his leather jacket on the couch and leaning out the window as he lights a cigarette.

A puff of smoke leaves his mouth as he swings his head back with closed eyes.

Shaking your head, you decide not to give him a hard time for his bad habit and give him space as you busy yourself with setting the couch up nicely for yourself to sleep on given that you were now homeless, among other things.

Sukuna takes his time at the window, stubbing out his cigarette when it’s barely an inch long and finally approaching you from where you sit on the floor looking through your bag, taking inventory of what you have and what you’ll need to pick up eventually.

Your pretty face smiles up at him when his shadow blocks your view and he finds himself relaxing more from the sight of you than he had from the nicotine.

“Are you okay?” You tilt your head, noting that he seems more calm now and he nods.

“Should be askin’ you that.”

“I’m okay. I mean it,” you insist.

His eyes flicker down to your wrist again but he knows better than to doubt you and he knows you can handle the pain. Sitting down on the couch behind you, he leans back and watches you quietly.

“I got the things that were most important, but hopefully I can go back and grab everything else eventually,” you note, more to yourself than him. He still hums in acknowledgement. “Why’d you want my bike back so bad, by the way?”

Your friend leans forward on his knees. “So I can still go for rides with you.”

“What, do I make a bad backpack?” You tease with a grin that has Sukuna’s shoulders falling to his sides as his anger subsides completely.

“Hard to drive when you’re feelin’ me up, princess.”

Your lips purse as your cheeks redden, caught off-guard by his nonchalant smirk. You’d felt up his abs a bit during the ride to your old place, sure, but being called out still had the tips of your ears heating up.

You stubbornly avoid his gaze, going back to figuring out if you’d forgotten anything. Deep chuckles resonate from behind you as your new roommate ruffles your hair and gets to his feet.

“By the way we’re goin’ out tonight.”

You tilt your head, eyes following Sukuna as he saunters over to the fridge and pulls out an energy drink.

“Where’d you have in mind?” You ask curiously, not entirely sure you’re in the mood to go out.

“That new rom com movie or whatever that you wanted to see is showing tonight. I got tickets.” He reaches back into the fridge and pulls out your favorite beverage, tossing it to you.

You barely manage to catch it, mumbling a thank you. “I don’t really know if I’m up for it,” you admit, staring at the drink in your hands.

“I already bought the tickets,” he shrugs, laying back on the couch again. “Suck it up.”

Your nose wrinkles in distaste but you know it’s likely for the best that you’re out of the house so you do, in fact, suck it up.

It quickly becomes time for the movie and you find yourself back in the parking garage a couple of hours before sunset.

“Can you drive?”

“You gonna feel me up again?” Sukuna raises a brow at you, but a hint of a smirk pulls at his lips.

“... Can I?”

Your confidence catches him off-guard and he blanches, his lips parting as he stares at you. His eyes flicker to your lips and that single action has your heart beating fast and hard in your chest. The fluttering in your stomach as you wait for him to react is enough to make you wretch and you consider yourself lucky that he seems to pull himself together as his lips tug upwards into a sly grin.

He takes a step forward, dipping his head down to whisper in your ear. “Don’t stray too low while I’m drivin’.”

You’re left choking on air as Sukuna’s tone sends a jolt of electricity straight up your spine, setting your entire body ablaze. Your eyes trail the length of his body, pausing as you watch him pull his leather jacket over his thin white shirt. The way his muscles ripple and tense with each movement has you swallowing hard as you realize just how built and toned he really is.

You’re thankful you aren’t caught and are spared from Sukuna’s teasing as you hop onto the back of his bike, purposefully making a show of feeling up his abs. Moving from his pecs, across the peaks and valleys of each set of muscles, down until you take pause as you feel the waist of his pants connect with the tips of your fingers.

Sukuna groans, looking over his shoulder before he puts on his helmet. “Not while I’m driving, got it?”

You nod at him, batting your eyelashes sweetly. He huffs, adjusting the crotch of his pants before pulling his helmet on. He waits for you to follow suit before pulling out of the parking garage and heading to the theater.

Sukuna’s warmth is both a beacon of hope and a searing flame to your skin. A comfort and an exciting new idea to explore. You hold onto him tightly, your body melting into his heat as he drives much more carefully with you hooked onto him than he had earlier in the day.

Sukuna pulls into a spot by the front door of the theater and waits for you to let go before hopping off of the bike himself.

“Popcorn?” He asks you mildly, hands in his pockets.

“Um, that’s alright.”

Sukuna’s eyes narrow. “Why?”

“I don’t need popcorn.”

“Don’t need or don’t want?”

You pause, your brow knit as you silently question what he means, but Sukuna’s seen this play out before with your ex and he wants to break this habit.

“Do you want popcorn, y/n?”

You run a hand through your hair, exhaling quietly. “Yeah, it’d be nice.”

Sukuna nods, surprising you as he grabs not your forearm or bicep as he usually does, but your hand. His much larger, veiny hand folds over yours, his fingers tangling with yours. Your hand is so small in his and even the feeling of your hand against him feels like a reminder of just how cute you are to him.

Your cheeks are surely dusted in a red glow, but you don’t mind given the surprisingly pleasant eagerness in your chest.

With popcorn in-hand, Sukuna leads you into the theater, taking you to your seat and relaxing into the reclining chair. He lifts the arm rest between you, not once disconnecting your hands like it’s the most natural action in the world.

And in all honesty, it is. Everything with Sukuna is easy. It feels right. It feels right in a way you’re not familiar with and it’s exhilarating.

Given the cheesy scenario he set up for, you half-expect Sukuna to make a move during the movie, but his thumb simply continues to rub soothing lines over your knuckles.

It’s after the movie that he surprises you.

Bounding down the stairs ahead of Sukuna as you tug him along with you, you’re practically gushing about the movie that you’re positive he barely paid attention to. It isn’t his style of film but he doesn’t mind either way.

“-I mean come on, how can you not love Owen Wilson in that role?”

“Mm.”

“-and it’s so charming watching him start to learn and care about her world-”

“Mhmm.”

“-oh my god and when she realizes she loves him and she shows up at the tournament-”

“I’m glad you liked it.” Despite how little he has to say about the movie, he’s just happy you enjoyed it.

“-and when he gets her flooowers?-”

Sukuna chuckles as you continue to gush over the movie at him. Still hand-in-hand, he tugs you along, quietly listening to your rambles as he makes his way to his bike. His chest swirls with anticipation as you pay his actions no mind when he turns towards the storage compartment of his bike as you continue rambling on.

It takes only a moment for his hand to reach the delicate item he’s in search of, deftly wrapping two fingers around the dainty object. Keeping his hand behind him, he turns to you with a soft smile. Lidded eyes stare at you with mirth, an expression that isn’t typical for Sukuna, so your rambles begin to fade into silence as you tilt your head curiously at him.

“Flowers, hm?” He asks, pulling a beautiful, blooming red rose out from behind him. He holds it out to you, pulling you closer by the hand that’s still intertwined with his as you purse your lips in disbelief.

“I- I-” You stammer over your words as your mouth goes dry, eyes fixed on the gorgeous flower held in Sukuna’s fingers.

It’s almost a strange sight to behold- the same man you’d seen passed out on your couch dozens of times, the man you’d had to bail out of jail on more than one occasion, the same man who grumbled and complained every single time you went to Red’s Bar- now holding a dainty little rose for you.

“W- when did you even have time to get this?” You shake your head, it doesn’t matter. “Sukuna, this is so much I-”

His brows raise as your rambles begin again and although he’s flustered you more times than he can count over the years, he’s never seen you genuinely nervous like this.

“-you really didn’t have to do anything like this for me-”

“Y/n.”

“-taking me to the movies is already a big deal and I know the last day has been a hassle for you-”

“Y/n,” Sukuna chuckles this time, his grip on your hand tightening as he squeezes it in an effort to get your attention.

“-I didn’t get you anything, I don’t-”

“Y/n,” Sukuna leans down, capturing your lips against his. His lips are soft and the kiss is uncharacteristically sweet. His hand slides out of your grasp, sliding up your arm and coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you closer to him. He parts from your lips with a smirk. “Shut up, princess.”

You stare breathlessly at him, eyes flickering wildly between his eyes, his lips, before resting down on the rose again.

“Take the damn flower.”

“R-right!” You gingerly reach out, holding the stem as you bring it up to your nose. “You didn’t have to do all this, you know.”

“Well, someone had to,” it comes out as more of a grumble as his brow furrows, but his fingers curl into the skin of your waist as he speaks, betraying the meaning behind his words.

“Mhmm, someone.” You agree teasingly, smiling up at him. “Thank you, Kuna.” You rise up onto your tiptoes, resting a hand on his chest as you lean up to kiss him, just barely able to reach his jaw.

His chest vibrates in a content hum. “So short,” he mocks, tilting his head to meet your lips again. Pulling his other hand from his pocket, he pulls the flower from your fingers, setting it in the storage behind him and finding your waist to bring you flush against him.

Your hands slide up the length of his hard musculature until you find his neck. Your fingers tangle in the short hair at his nape and another hum slips from his lips, swallowed by your kiss.

He leans down to meet your height better as the kiss gains urgency, years of pent up emotions flooding from Sukuna’s every movement. His fingers curl into your skin, pulling you impossibly closer.

“Kuna?”

He grunts into the kiss, smirking against your lips when he slides a hand from your waist down to your hips.

“Can we-” you breathe out between kisses, “-go home?”

Sukuna parts from your lips, examining your expression with blown pupils, so wide you can barely see the deep color of his irises. He swallows hard, his chest rising and falling fast as he nods silently.

You let out a surprised squeal when he grabs you by the hips and effortlessly lifts you onto his bike.

“-can do it myself,” you insist but Sukuna doesn’t register your words, too caught up in the intoxication of your smell, your feel, your taste. He wants more.

Hopping on the bike in front of you, he waits for your helmet to be on before he starts his Ducati and throws his helmet on. Your hands take their place around his toned abdomen, sliding down without a moment’s thought.

“Behave,” Sukuna hisses loud enough that you hear him even over the sound of his bike’s engine. He doesn’t need your visor up to know you’re smiling innocently at him.

He clicks his tongue and speeds out of the parking lot back towards his apartment. Though he’s still more careful driving with his sweet little backpack clinging to him, you’re not oblivious to the fact that he is driving quicker than usual.

Relaxing against Sukuna’s toned back brings with it a comfort you haven’t felt in a long time. It’s strange, despite him speeding through traffic and the sparking tension between you both, it’s easy to close your eyes and relax against him.

It’s not a feeling you’ve had with your ex for a long time. Although you ignored the flags throughout your relationship and defended him when he didn’t deserve it, it wasn’t always that way, but Sukuna has always been a safe and worry-free escape from the world for you. Since the first day he drove into your life, since you first realized that Sukuna enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed his.

He’s a hard book to read and an easy presence to be in.

Your eyes flicker open, not realizing you’d grown so relaxed holding onto him that he’d already pulled into his parking spot, parking beside your Kawasaki.

Sukuna instinctively moves to get off his bike, expecting you to follow him, but pauses when you move rather sluggishly behind him. Pulling his helmet off, he shakes his head in an effort to fix his hair before he eyes you over his shoulder.

“You gonna get off?”

To anyone else, it might come across as aggressive, but his tone is mild as ever.

“Sorry, Kuna.”

You exhale and push off the bike with a hand resting on Sukuna’s shoulder blade. He watches you curiously, tucking you under his shoulder and leading the way back up to his apartment.

Pulling out his keys in the elevator, he ducks his head to get a good look at your expression.

“Tired?”

“No! … Well, yeah, but I was just relaxing,” you tell him and he hums, his eyes swirling with mirth. You cross an arm over your chest, your breast pressing against your arm. His eyes flicker to the sight, pupils dilating as he swallows hard. “See something you like, Sukuna?”

Your lidded eyes and purring voice has the taller man teetering on the edge of self control. His mind reels with thoughts that aren’t appropriate for the elevator and the moment the door opens, he’s making his way to his apartment like a man on a mission.

Desire pools between your thighs at his eagerness, made more apparent in the way he fumbles at the door with his keys.

It’s not even a second after the door is closed and he maneuvers you against the door, helmets on the ground as his fingers move to flip the lock behind you before they travel up the side of your body, admiring your curves before he cups your face.

He captures your lips, hungry to taste you again. He wants to devour you, he wants to mark you and make you his. Your lips move in tandem with his, matching his fervor with equal eagerness.

Your fingers rake his chest, thumbs sliding over the length of his collarbones. The feeling of his broad chest beneath your hands drives you crazy and you press back against him, your breasts pressing against the expanse of his chest.

“Kuna, wait,” you breathe, chest heaving as you part from him. Vermillion irises lock on you as he pulls back, his fingers gripping your waist almost bruisingly. “This isn't…” You pause, your mouth opening and closing hesitantly.

“Out with it,” Sukuna encourages hoarsely.

You shoot him a wry smile at his blunt impatience. “This isn’t just a hookup for me, you know.”

He raises a brow at you. “You think that’s what this is for me?” You might even assume he sounds offended.

“No! No,” you clarify, shaking your head as your pretty eyes go wide. He rolls his shoulders, leaning his face closer to yours as he intently watches you. “I just… I-” you pause again, avoiding his intense gaze.

“It’s not a one night stand, y/n.” Sukuna’s pupils shrink as he speaks solemnly. He feels you relax in his grip, your eyes coming up to meet his. “Relax n’ let me take care of you.”

Your cheeks redden at your best friend’s boldness and you shuffle as you press your thighs together.

“I better not be your rebound, y’know.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice now, the elbow holding him up against the door sliding down as his face grows closer to you. God, he’s tall. He’s tall and built like a monster, and between the size of his hands, his muscles, not to mention his height… Your wide, almost timid eyes flicker down to his crotch. He catches the action and smirks. “Don’t get nervous now,” he leers.

“I’m not!” You squeak, the blush spreading to the tips of your ears. “And… you’re not a rebound.” You grab his shirt collar as you pull him in for a kiss, much sweeter than the covetous one you’d shared a minute ago.

Sukuna’s eyes flutter shut as he finds himself relaxing into your touch when you slide your hands up his neck and into his dark, undyed undercut.

“I like you, Ryo.” You admit when you pull back just enough for the words to reach his ears. His smirk can be felt against your lips.

“Fuck, you’re hot.” In true Sukuna fashion, that’s his way of reciprocating your admission, because he doesn’t do feelings. But you know. You know exactly what he means.

You grin against his lips, giggling like a giddy school girl who’s just seen her crush smile. Sukuna’s chest rumbles at your sudden timid delight.

“You’re such a loser,” he chuckles, his hand moving from your waist to hold your chin. He kisses you softly, your giggles persisting against his lips. Your fingers curl gleefully in his hair when he pulls back with impishly narrowed eyes. “You’re makin’ it hard to kiss you.”

“Sorry,” you chirp, your eyes crinkling in the corners. “It’s just cute- you’re cute.”

“Me?” He pulls back, standing at his full height and making a point of showing off his broad shouldered stance. “Cute?” He tilts his head quizzically as if to prove a point but if anything, you find the strands of hair falling out of place over his forehead cute.

“Yeah, you.”

“I’ll show you cute,” he grumbles, and suddenly you’re lifted off the ground effortlessly. You shriek in surprise in his ear as you grasp at the back of his leather jacket. He mumbles something about you being a brat before dumping you on the couch and crawling over your body.

His form looms over you and you’re both suddenly very aware of the immense size difference between you both, something which might be one of Sukuna’s favorite things. He loves how tiny you are, how easily he can handle you.

Sukuna takes pause, his usually dour gaze filled with longing, admiring what he’d wanted for so long as you stare back at him with wide eyes. He loves the fiery attitude you always sport, but this flustered side of you is new to him and he drinks it in like a drug.

Your chest rises and falls quickly, eyes darting from his arms that cage you in, down the expanse of his chest that peeks through his V-neck, back up to that alluring tattooed face. His sharp jaw, his ever-present smirk, his intense stare, it’s all so goddamn sexy and you’re flustered to silence like a deer in the headlights being hunted by a wolf.

“Funny, you seem to have lost your bark,” he comments tantalizingly, dipping down to kiss your jaw. Now with your body trapped beneath him, he feels the way your hips twitch. “What happened to the brat from earlier?”

You swallow down a moan as his voice sets you ablaze. Your hands find purchase on his biceps, fingers gripping him tightly. You take a breath to readjust and bat your lashes up at him as you push through the sudden nerves that seem to chase you. “Brat? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kuna.”

Sukuna grins, a devilish gleam in his eyes. “There she is,” he hums, bringing himself down to his elbows to kiss you wholly. His lips move urgently against yours, tongue swiping your lower lip almost immediately. He groans when you grant him access by parting your lips, drinking in your taste. You gasp in surprise as his tongue piercing grazes your tongue, a strangely pleasurable new feeling.

Your hands slide from his biceps up his neck, keeping him close, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss. When you shift beneath him to clench your thighs as heat pools in your lower abdomen, he groans.

“Fuck,” he hisses into your mouth, catching you by surprise when he nips your lower lip. He pulls back for only a moment but in that split second the look on your best friend’s face tells you everything you need to know. You’re his prey, and he’s about to devour you.

“Kuna-!” You gasp in surprise when kisses down the side of your neck, leaving behind purple bruises as he sucks and nips at the side of your neck. Reaching the sensitive spot at the base of your neck, his teeth graze your skin before gently sinking in, testing the waters with a glance at your face.

You whine, squirming beneath him.

Sukuna withdraws with a smirk, running his tongue soothingly over the reddened skin. “Kinky little thing, aren’t you?” He purrs, rolling his hips against you so roughly you whimper. “Shit,” he mumbles and returns to his ministrations, his hips rolling against yours like a dog in heat.

“Sh-shut up, Kuna…” you groan, rutting your hips up into him. His movement stutters with pleasure and he nips your skin again in response. “Darlin’, hold onto me,” his husky voice commands against the skin of your ear.

“Hm? Ah-!”

Sukuna slides a muscular arm beneath the small of your back, pressing you to him and urging your arms to cling to his shoulders. You wrap your legs around his waist as he picks you up, holding your small frame to him in one arm.

He carries you to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him as you press kisses to his collarbone, leaving behind marks of your own. He hums, plopping you down onto the bed and standing to shrug his jacket off and unbuckle his belt, letting it and his jeans drop to the floor.

You’re sure your face is red as a tomato, pupils dilated as you admire his body, your gaze landing on the boner that’s pulling the fabric of his black Calvin Klein boxers taut. You swipe your tongue out over your lips, bringing your lower lip between your teeth.

Your best friend grins, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your ankles. You let out a surprised gasp, gripping at the sheets at either side of you.

“G’nna take my time n’ treat her right,” he purrs, falling over you as your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer. He could be talking about you or your pussy, it doesn’t matter either way.

He lifts your shirt up over your head and you arch your back to make it easier. You’re so pliant for him and he adores your obedience, adores the desperate, lustful look in your eyes.

“Shit, girl,” he mumbles, his eyes eating you alive on the spot as he admires your body. You’re so small in comparison to the way his figure looms over you.

Catching your gaze, he squeezes one of your breasts, slipping the other from the fabric of your lace bra to press the warm flat of his tongue to your nipple. You jolt as pleasure buzzes through your body, moaning when he sucks the hardened bud between his lips. The cool metal of his piercing intensifies the pleasure when it grazes your skin and causes goosebumps to raise on your arms.

Your hands find his hair, tugging enough that Sukuna smirks against the plush of your skin.

“So needy,” he hums. Your thighs clench around his waist as the vibration of his voice against your skin rocks through you.

Your lidded eyes stare down at him and you take the opportunity to tug his shirt off. He complies, tossing it across the room. His heavily tattooed chest, abdomen, arms- he’s gorgeous and you can barely believe he’s standing over you right now, eyes for only you.

“Kuna,” you mumble between moans, jerking as he flicks your nipple with a smug grin.

He mutters out a ‘what’ before sinking his teeth into your breast. You gasp, eyes widening and bucking your hips against him as your head swings back into the mattress. As you arch your back for him, Sukuna deftly slips your bra off.

“Stop being a tease,” you plead, the hard length of his cock twitching against your core as you tighten your legs.

“A tease? What do you want then, hm?” His voice is cocky, knowing. He wants you on your knees begging.

“Kunaaaa,” you groan, laying the back of your arm across your eyes, suddenly timid.

Sukuna clicks his tongue, pulling your arm away from your face. He grabs your other arm and holds them both down above you with one large hand. “What do you want, brat?” His face is inches away from yours now and he rolls his hips against your core teasingly despite the ache he feels.

“I-” you pant, pausing to look at his intense stare. “Wan’ you to eat me out.”

“Yeah?” He hums, lowering his head so that his lips brush yours. “Thought you had manners?”

“Please, Kuna,” you beg in a whiny voice. Sukuna smirks, getting to his knees at the edge of the bed and draping his arm over your hips to hold them down as he sprawls your legs out before him.

“Fuckin’ soaked for me,” he groans, his breath warm against the fabric of your panties. He wastes no time hooking his fingers through the fabric to pull them aside. His digits brush your folds as you buck your hips in a desperate attempt at friction.

Chuckling softly, Sukuna languidly licks up your cunt, savoring your taste with the slow movement. You squirm beneath him, raking your fingers through his hair as you try to buck your hips towards his tongue.

“Patience,” Sukuna hums and flicks his tongue out to circle your clit. His piercing grazes the sensitive bundle of nerves and your eyes go wide with pleasure.

“Such a- hah- asshole- ah-!” Sukuna doesn’t give you the satisfaction of teasing him as he pushes his long tongue into your dripping chasm, your walls clenching around the muscle in ecstasy.

Sukuna groans as your fingers tug his hair. He lets you buck your hips into his mouth and ride his face, relishing in the sound of your moans and pants.

The feeling of his tongue inside you is already so intense that when he brings a thumb up to flick your clit, the sudden desire that pulses through your body straight to the knot tightening in your core has you bucking your hips in surprise. His grip on your hips fastens as he holds you down again, keeping you from squirming out of his grasp.

The desire and heat pooling in your core quickly grow in intensity as Sukuna’s experienced tongue plunges through your folds, drinking up your arousal.

“K-Kuna- I- I’m gonna-” your words are mere babbles as you try to speak through the bliss, your orgasm steadily approaching.

“Let me taste it, princess.”

The feeling of his voice with his tongue within you, the way his piercing suddenly flicks your gummy walls, his thumb on your clit, the way he calls you princess, it’s so much that your orgasm crashes over you in a wave, causing your body to jolt and jerk against the mattress.

Sukuna’s thumb leaves your clit as he holds down one of your thighs to keep you from crushing his head as you moan and pant out his name while your body spasms. He slows his ministrations to drink every last drop of your orgasm before flicking your clit with his tongue one last time, pleased when you jolt.

He pushes himself up, wiping your slick from his chin with the back of his hand.

“Shit, you’re hot,” he mutters. You barely have a moment to come down from your high before he’s pulling you to the floor by your waist, dropping you on your knees. His hungry expression and throbbing cock tell you everything you need to know as you look up at him through your lashes.

Your fingers curl around the waist of his boxers as you pull them down his thighs. His rock-hard erection slaps against his abs as you free it from the confines of the fabric. Sure, Sukuna is a monster of a man at nearly seven feet tall of solid muscle mass and you’d felt him grinding against you, but your eyes still widen at the sight of his cock.

You feel your mouth water as you stare at the angry red tip, veins protruding and pulsing with desire on either side.

“Think you can take it?” He asks and although it’s a teasing and husky tone he uses with you, he is genuinely asking as well. You nod eagerly and he grins. “Good girl,” he purrs.

Bringing a hand up to his cock, you wrap your fingers daintily around the thick base, looking up at those glimmering vermillion eyes as you run your tongue from base to tip, eliciting a heavy groan from the man.

“Christ,” he groans, his head flying back in pleasure. You smirk and take the tip of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the leaking slit before teasingly pulling back with a pop!

His hips shudder as he does everything in his power to stop himself from using your mouth, to stop himself from shoving his cock down your throat with no warning.

“Needy, Ryo?”

You don’t expect the way that sets him off, lights his desire ablaze anew as he fists your hair and leans down with a clenched jaw to look you in the eyes.

You whimper in surprise, closing your thighs from where you sit on your knees as your cunt pulses from the way he handles you so roughly.

“Let’s get it straight right now which of us is needy,” he growls with a smirk, eyeing the way you shift your thighs. “You gonna be a good little slut for me?”

You nod up at him, pupils dilating as he tugs your hair. He grins, narrowing his eyes. “Words, woman.”

“Yes, Kuna,” you purr back at him. The wild look in his eyes intensifies as he receives your consent and pushes the tip of his cock past your lips. His jaw goes slack in pleasure as you swirl your tongue around the head, lapping up his precum.

“Shit,” he groans out, watching as you take his cock without breaking eye contact while he thrusts further into your mouth. You gag when he reaches the back of your throat, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes and you shut them as you take his length. “Ah ah, look at me. Takin’ me so well.”

Sukuna knows you can’t take his entire cock in your mouth, he knows there’s a fairly large size difference between the both of you. It doesn’t stop the way he pushes your head down on his cock watching the way tears run down your cheeks as you so obediently let him handle you.

Saliva runs down the length of his cock and you bring a hand up to the base, pumping what you can’t fit in your throat. His hand pulls your mouth off his cock, adjusting his hand to hold your head back against the bed so that he can relentlessly fuck into you, massive cock hitting the back of your throat and gagging you with each thrust.

He throws his head back as you pump the base of his shaft while he fucks you, being his perfect little doll. His abs flex and twitch when your muscles tense as you swallow around him.

“Such a nasty fuckin’ throat.” He barely gives you any time to breathe as his pace increases, along with the pace of your hand to match. His chest heaves as he moans, letting you dig your nails into his thigh for purchase while he uses your throat.

His cock twitches as you moan when he hits the back of your throat and his eyes shut tight with pleasure, jaw going slack. When he jolts again with the next thrust, you know he’s close so you hum contentedly, sending vibrations up his shaft and causing his hips to jerk erratically as he chases his high.

“F-fuck,” he groans out before his hips stutter and your eyes widen when his cum unloads down your throat, thick ropes of salty sweet arousal swallowed as he keeps himself warm within your mouth. You move your lips slowly around his girth, milking every last drop of his orgasm. You pull back after a moment to allow yourself a chance to breathe, panting as you stare up at him.

His chest heaves and his cock twitches every few seconds, telling of the orgasm he’s just had. Still, his eyes burn with desire when he finally opens them.

He reaches down to pick you up and sets you at the edge of the bed on all fours roughly.

He squeezes your ass before slapping it once. Your body jolts in surprise as you gasp.

“Princess, you on any birth control?”

“Mhmm, you can go raw.”

You hear him mumble a curse beneath his breath. “You tell me if it’s too much,” he tells you, catching the way you glance over your shoulder at him and nod.

In spite of the rough way he uses and handles you, he’s still very attentive to your pleasure and comfort.

He pays no mind to the fact that you actually liked the panties you’re wearing as he physically tears them off of your body, tossing the ripped fabric aside. You whine in complaint, shooting him a look from over your shoulder.

“I’ll buy ya new ones,” he huffs, returning his attention to your body.

Squeezing your ass in both palms, he leans down and buries his face in your pussy, licking a stripe from your clit to your dripping entrance. He hums at how wet you still are, moving a hand up your spine to hold you down and keep you arched for him.

His teeth sink into the plump of your ass and you squeak at the sudden burst of pain that quickly twists to pleasure when he soothingly laps over the mark he’s left.

He slides his hand down from squeezing your plump ass to glide a finger through your lubricated folds. You lean into his touch, gasping when he suddenly plunges one long finger into your lubricated pussy.

Your walls are tight as they pulse around his long finger. He eases another digit in, pumping them slowly as he realizes just how tight you are.

“Relax, darlin’,” he hums soothingly, curling his fingers against your walls a couple of times before he finds your g spot. His voice is such a stark contrast to his rough tendencies, but it’s soothing to have him so worried for your comfort.

“Ryo, f-fuck-” you moan out as his fingers languidly curl against your gummy walls which gradually relax against his long fingers. With a couple more pumps of his fingers, he pulls them out, leaving you pulsing around nothing and craving his touch as you shift your hips in search of friction with a whine.

Sukuna grunts when he lines himself up with your plump cunt, pumping himself a couple of times before he slowly eases his tip into you. Your eyes widen at the delicious burn of the stretch, fingers curling in the sheets as you adjust to his massive size. And god this is only the tip.

You cry out, the feeling of his girthy cock filling you up blurring your vision as the pain transitions to pleasure before the process begins all over again with each movement he makes. His cock throbs, making you feel impossibly full.

Sukuna wants to ruin you, he wants to tear you apart on his cock, but he doesn’t want to hurt his sweet little best friend, so he watches the way your face contorts in mild pain, waiting for your expression to relax as he slowly feeds you his cock, inch by inch.

“Doin’ so good for me, darlin’,” Sukuna purrs, his thumb stroking your back in contrast to the fact that he’s still holding you down and keeping you arched for him.

His cock head brushes your cervix, pressing against it as he bottoms out, fingers curling against your back at how tight you’re squeezing him as he waits for you to adjust.

Your shoulders relax beneath his touch and you whimper as he slides his cock out to the tip, setting a moderate pace so as not to shock you. The feeling of his thick, veiny cock is like nothing you’ve ever experienced, his size just so much to take that you moan and whine with each thrust of his cock into your tight hole.

You grip at the sheets beneath you, gasping as Sukuna speeds up his thrusts and presses you hard into the mattress, muffling your moans.

“Kuna- mmph,” you let out a muffled whimper, jolting when he slaps your ass roughly, no longer holding back.

“F-fuckin’- shit-” he groans, his fingers gripping your skin bruisingly as he holds you in place. He leans forward, sliding his hand from your back to your neck, restricting your airflow subtly. Pleasure tears through your spine as he leans forward and pushes in deeper with each thrust, pulling moans and screams of his name from deep in your throat.

“K-Kuna, I’m- hah- close,” you whimper, words muffled by the sheets beneath you. He loosens his fingers from your neck, grabbing your waist with both hands as he pulls your ass closer to him, pounding into you faster as he chases his own high.

“Shit, y’r such a good lil slut for me,” he groans, feeling your walls tighten around his thick length with each thrust.

Pleasure tightens deep within your core, knotting and curling as he fucks you so deliciously that your juices are already dripping from your cunt around his hilt. His eyes lock on the sight and he throws his head back in pleasure, his own high not far behind.

With one last hit against your cervix, your orgasm hits you like a goddamn truck, like nothing you’ve ever experienced before as your entire body shakes and jolts, your knees and legs giving out.

If Sukuna wasn’t holding you up, you surely would have collapsed as stars cloud your vision and you moan his name like a mantra. Your eyes are glossy and your mind delirious as he continues to fuck you through your high, your walls milking him in a way that has him quickly climbing towards his release.

With only a few more erratic thrusts that have you whining under him in overstimulation, his cock twitches suddenly as his entire load fills you up, mixing with your juices and dripping out of your swollen lips down your thighs that Sukuna is still holding up.

He moans as he slowly lets your body go and you sink to the mattress, panting beneath him as his cock slips from between your thighs. His eyes flicker to your pretty pussy, his cum leaking out with each pulse of your walls. His chest heaves as well as he slowly gets to his feet and walks to the side of the bed, sliding up against the headboard.

Sukuna pulls your body up from where you’ve collapsed, wrapping his arms around you as his sweat-slicked skin sticks to yours. He’s much gentler now, looking you over for any signs that he might have hurt you accidentally, but when you finally open your eyes, they’re glossy with pleasure and filled with adoration.

He can’t help the way he genuinely smiles, not a common thing for the tepid biker, but when you grin and giggle in return, it makes his heart jump.

He practically turns to putty in your hands and as you silently bask in the afterglow of the best sex of your life and lean into Sukuna’s embrace.

“Wasn’t too rough with you, was I?” He asks after a moment and you’re surprised by the way his fingers softly graze your skin.

“You were great Kuna, don’t worry,” you answer, yawning afterwards.

He hums in relief, leaning his head back for a moment before taking it upon himself to get you cleaned up before you pass out. Grabbing a towel, he wipes your thighs and tosses the towel in a hamper at the edge of the room before pulling the covers over your figure and crawling in behind you.

“Ryo?”

Sukuna hums quizzically.

“Do I get to know how long now?”

“You’re a brat,” he growls in your ear as he pulls you flush against his chest, his arms folded around your middle.

“Yeah yeah, just answer the question,” you grouse, rolling your eyes. You have an inkling of a feeling that you know when he realized his feelings for you, but you’re curious nonetheless.

He sighs, knowing you’ll never let him live this down. “Dunno. It’s been a while,” he avoids the question.

You flip in his arms to face him with raised brows. He groans, avoiding your gaze.

“I guess around the time you got with your ex,” he admits, his eyes locked on the wall behind you as he tucks your head under his chin to avoid your intent gaze.

“Is that why you stopped seeing people?”

“You noticed?”

“Kuna, you had a new girl under your arm every time I saw you for a while.”

He grunts, pulling you tighter to his body.

Giggling, you kiss his collar bone. “That’s sweet.”

Sukuna’s chest rises and falls heavily as he lets out a long sigh. You can practically feel the way his cheeks are heating up as you tease him, something that you’d only managed a handful of times in all the years you’ve known him.

“Sorry, am I embarrassing the big bad motorcycling bad boy?” You push, squeaking in protest as Sukuna wastes no time in shoving you away from him in an attempt to push you off the bed. “Wait, wait, wait! I’m sorry!” You insist, looking to him for mercy as you cling to his arms, clutching desperately at the flexed muscles.

“And?”

“And…” you search for the words he’s looking to hear in his eyes, gripping his arms tighter. “I won’t do it again?”

“And?”

“I’m sorry I ate the rest of your leftovers this morning?”

His brow furrows. Oh shit.

“I mean… no I didn’t. They’re still there,” you mumble, avoiding his judgemental gaze guiltily.

Sukuna’s hold on your shoulder begins to lax as you teeter at the edge of the bed, threatening to drop you to the floor. You scramble to try to grip him tighter.

“I’ll buy you new food!”

Sukuna sighs and drags you back to him. You let out a relieved puff of air against his chest, snuggling back into his warmth. “Jus’ wanted you to say when it was for you.”

You tilt your head up at him, only able to see his chin. “When what was?”

“You know. When you realized what you think of me or whatever.” Sukuna’s gruff tone is telling that he isn’t used to such sincere conversations. Although you’ve known him a long time and he’d told you about damn near every sexual encounter he’s had, Sukuna’s most record-breaking relationship was a shocking three months.

Of course, Sukuna isn’t a romantic, and she didn’t know him well enough to know that he was putting in effort, so it didn’t last long.

“Oh. When I realized I like you?”

He grunts.

You hum in thought, moments throughout your friendship scrolling through your mind like a slideshow.

Of course, your forefront thought is when Sukuna first stepped off that stupidly well taken care of Ducati and surprised you when he managed to not only get you home on a running bike, but let you buy him a drink. He’s always been ridiculously attractive, but no, those weren’t feelings.

You think of all the times you hung out with friends and they would point out his change in behavior. You’d always think on the statement, watch the way that aloof look of his turns mild when he faces you, but you didn’t want to think about it too much.

You ponder on the time you’d called him on a whim early in your friendship when your date had bailed on you. Sukuna did not want to see the cheesy romance movie you had tickets for, but he’d sucked it up and shown up. You’d offered to buy him dinner as a thank you, but he paid regardless. It was the kind of thing a real date would do, but he’d complained so much you brushed the thought away.

When you were entirely too obsessed with Game of Thrones and insisted he be your king in a big fur cloak for Halloween, maybe then something had changed.

“You want me to be some guy from the show you like?” He’d grumbled and guffawed over having to dress up at all, insisting he’d been planning to put in minimal effort.

“Pleaaase, Kuna?” You were practically on your knees by the time he’d agreed with a roll of his eyes. “You’d make a good Robb Stark,” you insist before second-guessing yourself. “Well, if he was grumpy and kind of a dick.” You shrug, grinning up at him as he shoots you a begrudging look through narrowed eyes.

It only takes you a few days to put together the costume given the abundance of medieval king and knight costumes around.

His arms cross over his rugged chest, the fabric of his shirt pulled taut by the movement. “You can’t be serious.” He stares at the tight faux leather coat you hand him with a scowl.

“He wears something similar!”

“I’m not wearing this.”

“Please, you said you would!” You pout at him as you sport your best puppy dog eyes.

“No.”

You jut your bottom lip out, taking a step towards him as you shove the leather top to his chest. His eyes narrow, gears turning in his head until he shuts his eyes, giving in.

Your eyes light up as he pulls the top from you, groaning as he pulls it on over his shirt. It’s tight on him, which you expected given Sukuna’s sheer size, but it’s a strangely hot look on your rugged best friend. Even more so when he lets you drape the cape over his shoulders and set a cute little crown on his head.

“No, absolutely not,” he hisses, slapping your hand away when you try to clip the crown in place with a bobby pin.

“You’re such a pain,” you tease as you try again, holding an extra pin between your teeth.

Standing back, you admire your work as you receive a very unamused look in return. Sukuna’s build makes for a very kingly stature in spite of the contrasting tattoos and it makes him hot. In fact, you’re half afraid someone will whisk him away at the Halloween party given how nicely he’s cleaned up.

Your lips twitch downwards at the thought. You don’t want him to be whisked away. You want your king by your side.

“So?”

Snapping you from your thoughts, your eyes light up again. “You look great,” you tell him with a grin. His eyes flicker with something you don’t recognize.

He hums, examining your expression. “Well, go get ready then. Gonna sweat through all this leather n’ shit.”

“Oh like you aren’t used to leather,” you roll your eyes, but you oblige, getting your matching Talisa Stark outfit on.

When you return to Sukuna sitting on his couch, you muster your best impression of your character. “My king?”

Your best friend’s attention turns to you, eyes widening as you approach him in a floor-length queen’s gown with a matching gray cloak and a crown pinned into your hair. “Shit, y’ look good,” he breathes out.

Your cheeks heat up and you scratch at the back of your neck. “Thanks, Kuna.” You clear your throat and your mind to the best of your ability as you offer him a hand. “Ready?”

He hums, taking your hand before grabbing his keys and offering you his arm. “My queen?”

You’d be lying if you said that wasn’t the first spark. The first real spark. As he loosened up throughout the night and repetitively called you his princess, you knew you were spent. Each and every time he used the name had you giggling up a storm and while you’d brushed it off as intoxication at the time, you knew the truth deep down.

So when he’d returned to his aloof self the following morning, you swallowed down your feelings.

You couldn’t bear the thought of losing your best friend and he didn’t have a good track record with relationships. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared, even now.

“Halloween,” you utter finally, unsure of just how long you’ve been silently contemplating an answer in his arms.

“Figures,” his chest rumbles in brief laughter.

“You knew?”

“Nah, thought it was the alcohol.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. That’s why I started dating other people.”

Sukuna doesn’t respond but he buries his face into the crown of your head, drinking in your warmth, your intoxicating scent, and your soft skin against his as he closes his eyes.

No more other people, you’re his.

“Was it me callin’ you my princess?” He asks of the night you realized you’d caught feelings.

“That, and you make a good Robb Stark.”

He snorts. “I remember being told I was a dick.”

You shrug, smiling against the warm skin of his chest. “I don’t retract that statement.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and warmth spreads through your body as you relax against him, eyes closing as exhaustion spreads across you like a warm blanket. You know the kiss is a sassy retort, but it shamelessly works on you.

“Fine. I retract my statement.”

“That’s my princess.”

–

“Can you stop moving so much?”

Unsurprisingly, Sukuna’s got an attitude today and he absolutely plans on making it your problem as he huffs.

Your gloved hands work carefully to thoroughly cover every last strand of his short hair with dye. You know very well the only reason he’s being such a menace today is because you’d suggested a change in color and he’s afraid it’ll look bad.

In all your years of knowing him, he’s always had the same pink hair, so you were thrilled he was allowing you the honor of dying it back to its original color, black. You’d actually insisted on orange or red, but black was the only thing he was willing to compromise on.

You make your way back around him and find his scowling face looking up at you. Covering the last few strands of hair over his forehead, you boldly sit on his lap.

His demeanor changes in an instant as you straddle him and his hands eagerly find your hips and begin roaming up your waist and back down to your thighs. You shoot him a warning glance as you accidentally smudge some black dye on his forehead, but he pays you no mind as he continues his ministrations.

“Kuna,” you warn sternly, trying to wipe off the black marking before it leaves a stain, but it’s too late. You sigh and look over your work.

“Just a quickie, c’mon,” he insists with a grin.

“I don’t want to be covered in black dye,” you retort and Sukuna groans, throwing his head back dramatically. “How long do I gotta wait?”

“Thirty minutes.”

He frowns, eyes following your movements as you pull off your gloves and throw them in the trash of your shared apartment. He can’t for the life of him tear his eyes from you as you proceed to wash your hands before grabbing a damp towelette to wipe at his forehead.

Suddenly feeling like a child as you take care of the marking on his forehead, he swats at your hand.

“You’re a menace,” you mutter, avoiding his hand with practiced precision as you wipe away any traces of hair dye from his face.

He smirks, he likes the way you tease him and if anything it only makes him want to bend you over the table more.

Still, when you pull back to inspect his face and leave a gentle peck on his lips, he knows you don’t mind his attitude.

You know it’s all a ruse of sorts. Not around others, but around you it is.

Dating him for so many years came with its fair share of complications, especially given that Sukuna’s communication skills were about as good as those of a rock. He often didn’t pick up on small signs that you were bothered by things and vice versa, as he’s a tough book to read.

Regardless of any small arguments, nothing ever got out of hand surprisingly. You can’t imagine your life if Sukuna hadn’t shown up to get you the night your ex kicked you out. What Sukuna lacked in the department of emotional understanding, he made up for with his actions.

Although he very rarely says it, you know Sukuna loves you.

Each and every ‘I love you’ is met with a kiss, a squeeze of your arm, a tug towards him.

Sukuna has his own way of showing you he loves you.

He picks you up from work with flowers, shocking those around you when the grumpy-looking tattooed man hands you flowers that surely won’t make it home in great condition on his bike, but it doesn’t matter.

He runs you a bath when he fucks you into oblivion and your legs give out. It may be his own hand that inflicted your weakness, but it doesn’t matter because he shows you just how much he cares for you through his aftercare routine.

He makes your coffee with far too much milk and sugar for his own taste and complains about it the whole time, but it doesn’t matter because he still does it every morning for you.

Sukuna loves you, and he knows that you’re aware of it.

When it comes time to wash his hair, he closes his eyes when you help him wash it in the sink. Your fingers move so delicately, taking care to wash out all the dye.

When he dries his hair with a towel and sees the way you delight at the sight of his freshly jet-black hair, he chuckles.

“Why do you never grow your hair out?” You ask, running your hands through his spiked hair. The color suits him and brings out his eyes in the most stunning way, you’re sure you have stars in your eyes from the way you’re staring at him.

“Dunno. The other color looks good,” he shrugs.

“It does!” You agree with a grin, “but so does this!” You insist. “It’s hot.”

He hums, looking himself over in the mirror. In truth, he doesn’t mind it. He only really indulged you because you’d insisted, but it worked out given what he had in mind for the night. It would look good in photos.

“When is Shiu getting here?” You ask curiously, interrupting Sukuna’s thoughts as your short arms wrap around his middle from behind.

“Hour from now.”

You gasp suddenly. “I need to clean up.”

“I can clean you up,” Sukuna smirks, lifting his arms in an attempt to see your face from where you stand behind him.

“Kunaaa,” you whine. “I need time to get ready.”

He groans dramatically. “Fine,” he grumbles, watching as you prance away happily to get ready.

You, Sukuna, Choso, Toji, Shiu, and Uraume were all going out in celebration of Toji’s newest addition to his family, a young boy. It was surprising that he was the first to settle down, but when you’d met his wife, you could see that she was his world, the way he relaxed at her touch and his own edge calmed in the same way Sukuna’s does around you.

Sukuna lays on his bed, watching as you choose a gorgeous black dress that hugs your curves so delectably that he wants to tear it off of you then and there. The whole time, he fumbles with something in his pocket, grateful when you don’t notice the small box accidentally fall from his grasp and onto the bed.

You chat with him about your work the whole time. Sukuna’s mind is elsewhere but given that he’s never all that chatty, you don’t notice. Looking yourself over in the mirror, you let out a relieved breath when you manage to be ready with only a couple of minutes to spare.

“Y’ look gorgeous.” Sultry words are whispered in your ear, followed up by a kiss to your neck as your boyfriend comes up behind you. His hands rest softly on your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder, bending down to your height.

You watch his actions from the mirror, the way his lidded eyes look over the curves of your figure, the way he slides his arms so delicately around your middle to envelop you in a tight hug, it’s these moments that you treasure the most.

The quiet moments where you simply enjoy one another’s presence.

Your lives are so busy that you don’t always get time to yourselves, so melting into his arms in that moment, you wish it would last forever.

Of course forever is a long time, and Shiu certainly doesn’t have the patience to wait in his car that long for you both. You’re not entirely sure why Sukuna doesn’t want to take your bikes, but you don’t push the subject. Your boyfriend’s mind is a mysterious place.

Your group gathers at a restaurant that’s a bit fancy for everyone’s tastes, but Uraume had insisted on it given the occasion. The real surprise was that Sukuna had dressed up a bit as well, sporting a sleek black pair of slacks, a black long sleeve button-up, and a red tie. His ensemble went well with your black dress.

Over the years, Sukuna’s friends had become your friends, long before you started dating, even.

Choso and Yuji were like your little brothers, and Uraume and Toji your closest drinking buddies. They got along surprisingly well with your friends too, especially Choso and Yuji who, unlike Sukuna, seemed to have a talent for getting along with everyone. Shiu generally only tagged along when Toji was around, but their banter was always welcome.

As Toji shows off photos of his son Megumi alongside his daughter Tsumiki, you notice Sukuna whispering something to Choso, casting oddly uneasy glances in your direction. Frowning, you glance over yourself once as though there’s something wrong with your outfit. No… it looks fine. So what’s Sukuna being so secretive about?

You brush it off as nothing, sure you’re overthinking things… until he pulls Toji aside after the man finishes showing off photos of his son.

You tilt your head quizzically to Uraume as you lean over towards them, ensuring Sukuna can’t hear you.

“Is Kuna acting weird to you?”

“Yes,” Uraume follows your gaze, narrowing their eyes. “Perhaps he misses Toji?”

“Are we talking about the same person?” A small smirk quirks up the corners of your lips.

Uraume laughs lightly with you. “You’re right,” they agree, but the thought doesn’t leave your mind.

It’s not like Sukuna doesn’t have off days like everyone else, but this is a strange change of demeanor for him. He seems strangely fidgety, as though he can’t sit still. His leg had bounced under the table throughout most of dinner and he was strangely eager to get the bill.

He had been horny all day, the best guess you have is that maybe it’s that and he wants to get home.

Still, it doesn’t explain him being so secretive throughout the night. In fact, he’d barely spoken a lick to you. Which isn’t entirely uncommon, but in place of words he would normally find comfort in your touch. Yet tonight it felt as though you’d hardly seen him despite sitting next to him most of the night.

You resort to asking him about it later, though an uneasy feeling tugs at you the more you notice it.

You’re almost grateful the dinner is over when it is as you intertwine your fingers with Sukuna like nothing is wrong. Shiu leads the way across the expanse of grass by the restaurant to his car one lot over, chatting with Toji as you and your boyfriend trail behind.

With Choso and Uraume a short distance behind you, you figure now is as good of a time to ask as any.

“Is everything alright, baby?” You tilt your head to look at your boyfriend.

Something glimmers in his eyes, an emotion you don’t recognize. That’s odd.

“‘Course.”

Well, that’s not reassuring.

“Okay… Nothing’s wrong?”

He shoots you a small smirk, kissing the top of your head.

“Nothin’s wrong, princess. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

You sigh, unable to help the feeling that he has something up his sleeve, but also able to recognize that whatever he’s plotting, he clearly has no intention of telling you. Regardless, you’re relieved that his nonchalant attitude seems to have returned. Maybe it’s nothing to worry about after all.

You miss the way he glances between the two groups, nodding to both as you sigh and give in.

“Alright, Kuna. I love you.”

Sukuna stops to face you and you blink at him perplexedly. Time seems to stand still as his chest rises and falls so quickly, he’s sure you can hear his heart beating out of his chest as he fumbles in his pocket for a moment.

You open your mouth to question him but your words die on your tongue when your boyfriend swallows hard before making a quick movement down onto one knee and your eyes go wide, your heart pounding in tandem with his.

It’s just the two of you in that moment, all sounds drowned out by beating hearts, lights and movement a blur behind you both. Everything is just Sukuna. Just you.

“Y/n,” he begins hoarsely. His voice shakes slightly and he curses himself for it but he doesn’t dare look away from your gorgeous wide eyes.

Your lips part, a lump forming in your throat. It feels as though it could choke you and you swallow hard but it only seems to encourage the tears you had yet to notice welling in your eyes.

“I had this whole speech planned,” he chuckles breathlessly. “Practiced n’ everything.”

You nod slowly, your hands trembling as you bring one up to your mouth to suppress your shock and awe when he pulls out a small red velvet box.

“But I don’t think that shit's for me. So I decided to keep it simple.”

Nestled delicately within the box is a gorgeous silver ring with a beautiful diamond held delicately in the center. The ring splits into three separate parts just before the gem that all twist with smaller jewels around the metal.

“Marry me?”

Although he very rarely says it, you know Sukuna loves you.

From the way he holds you to the way he listens and kisses you between words. From the way he brings you lunch at work when you forget to the way he drives more carefully when you’re cuddled behind him on his bike.

Sukuna loves you, and he knows that you’re aware of it.

And you love him too.

“Yes!”

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❦ a/n ; please follow/like/reblog/share if you enjoyed ♡

writing & format © starmapz. art © too-many-owls. dividers © adornedwithlight and © cafekitsune.

[multific]

Honestly

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: mention of smut, flirting, curse words.

Summary: The BAU never had someone as honest as you. Not everyone was sure how to react to you especially when it came to the boy genius himself.

You always loved how sexy he looked when he was talking.

Even if it was probably the most horrific thing in the world.

You  just love hearing him talk about whatever, keeps you calm, keeps you grounded and it helped you think.

While others might have found it annoying when he was talking because he is so smart or whatever but you absolutely enjoyed every second of it his voice was truly calming. 

During your latest case you were paired up with him to start working on the profile of the unsub, but it was more challenging that you could have ever expected it to be.

So, when the hours turned late and almost everyone left the police station it was only the two of you there.

Spencer was standing in front of the board babbling on about the victims and possible reasons for the unsub to choose them.

Then he turned to you with a question. A question you didn’t hear.

But you answered.

“Honestly, all I want now is for you to bend me over this desk and fuck me while talking about your silly little statistics, Spencer.”

He froze.

For what felt like the first time in his life, he was speechless. 

But you continued.

“Or you could always pull your pants down and I can get on my knees, see if you can concentrate while I suck you off. So, unless you are going to do either, I say we go and sleep.” you stood up stretching before grabbing your bag. “Good night, Handsome.”

You left him standing there like a babbling mess.

The next day, you were once again paired up with Spencer, and you two were sent to the latest victim’s home to look around.

“So, we know the unsub chooses their victims based on their status. He goes after alpha males.” you said as Spencer looked around the office of the victim.

“His desk is lower than the average.” Spencer noted. “He was 6’2 why have such a short desk?” he asked, looking at you.

“His wife is short.” you said and you could see the confusion in his eyes. So, you walked over to the desk and bent over it, proving your point. “Makes things easier.” 

“Oh, okay.” Spencer nodded and turned his back to you, looking anywhere and everywhere.

After leaving the victim’s place you two decided to have lunch and brainstorm.

“So, the unsub chooses alpha males with short wives.” Spencer took a bite of his food before he continued. “What if the point is not to kill the man but to take the husband from their wife.”

“Both victims had short, blonde and pretty wives and both were alpha males. I think our unsub is a woman.”

“That would make sense why the victims were tied down.” 

“I think she is killing the man because she doesn’t see them as worthy. And she is a nail tech.”

“How do you know that?”

“Nail techs know everything about someone’s life. You get your nails done and have a nice conversation. Maybe even talk about your rich, handsome, tall and possibly unfaithful husband.”

“Cheating?” Spencer was thinking for a moment before he nodded. “Makes sense, the first victim constantly removed their wedding ring.”

“So, we are looking for the nail tech of the wives,” you said as you called Penelope to check your theory but before, you looked at Spencer. “Honestly, you could thank me later by eating me out, Handsome.” you winked at him just as Garcia picked up.

—

After catching the unsub, you were heading home on the jet when Spencer sat down next to you. The others were either sleeping or listening to some music to relax.

“Nice job out there.”

“Thank you.”

“So, do you also tell everything to your nail tech?”

“Oh yes, he knows all about you.”

“Oh, so you have a male nail tech?”

“I sure do. Known him since high school.”

“Look, I’m sorry but… I’m thinking about what happened at the police station that night… And I know we were both tired and in need of sleep, so I just want you to know that I will just forget about it.” 

“With your memory? I highly doubt it. And it’s not like I was lying. But you are smart enough to know I have special feelings for you.” he nodded. “Honestly, my offer stands. Take me out to dinner tomorrow and then you can come over?”

“I would like that, very much.” you smiled and nodded at his words.

"It's a date then. But just so you know, I do prefer a bed."

"Honestly, I already knew that." you laughed a little at his reply.

Then, you let out a yawn before putting your head on his shoulder as you got comfortable.

Honestly, you knew this date will be one to remember.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum

@asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Coffee Crossfire: Part 2

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You own a cafe in Brooklyn, Bucky Barnes’ territory. You occasionally let him hold meetings in the cafe after hours and things usually go well….but not this time.

Part 1

Your anger and frustration towards Bucky fizzled out after two days. You knew that it really wasn't his fault the cafe got shot up. He told you firsthand when you bought the property of the risks of having a business in his territory. But he always reassured you that whatever damage happens, he'd take care of it.

Like a true mob boss, he kept his word.

Even with his busy schedule, he came in every day to help oversee the work that was being done. He wasn't much help though. You'd tell his men what to do, what goes where, how things should look, etc. He just pays for everything.

However, when some of the new tables and chairs came in, you put Bucky to work.

While everyone was working in the front, you and Bucky assembled the furniture towards the back of the cafe. Bucky looked at the instructions and let out a breath of relief, "Thank god these have written out instructions. Not like other instructions where it's all pictures. Shit gets confusing."

You snicker as you lay out the pieces by their labelled sticker, "Honestly, these shouldn't be too hard to do. They're similar to the ones I had before."

"Ready when you are, boss," Bucky says with a smile.

You snort, "Never thought I'd hear you call anyone else 'boss'."

He shrugs, "You're the only one I'll listen to, sugar," he gives you a wink and you look away as your cheeks start to heat up.

You can't deny that Bucky is attractive, funny, and charming. He's also sweet and intimidating, but also caring. Sure what he does isn't lawful in any means, however, he cares for everyone in his family's territory. He knows everyone by name, helps them when they ask, and make sure everyone's protected and safe.

You told yourself when you first met him not get close to him, but years later, you know you're more than close to Bucky. You two are attached to the hip. At first, you considered him as a friend, but in the most recent years, you've started to see him as more. That scares you a little.

You moved to Brooklyn to get away from those feelings and here you are, right back to where you were. All because of Bucky Barnes.

You love him. You know you truly do, you're just not sure if he feels the same. Sure he flirts with you, but he doesn't mean it. You've seen him flirt with a bunch of other people too, so it definitely doesn't mean anything when he flirts with you.

"Sugar, gimme a hand?" he breaks you from your thoughts.

"Sure," you move closer to him, "What do you need?"

"Just hold these two pieces together while I screw this in."

"M'kay," you hold to pieces of a chair together, and Bucky twists the screwdriver to secure them in place. Your face is close to his, you smell the coffee on his breath and his expensive cologne. You see the bags under his eyes and it makes you frown.

"There. Than-what's with the frown?"

"You haven't been sleeping well," when he looks at you confused, you point to his face, "the bags under your eyes. Bucky, you should be at home resting, not spending early mornings with me here."

"It's fine, sugar."

"No, it's not. You should be well rested because you have a lot of work to do-"

"And they're getting done, just not all by me. Things are getting handled, Y/N, don't worry. I wanna be here."

"Why? Nothing much for you to do here. Your guys have it covered."

He shrugs, "Just in case you need me or," he gestures to the furniture pieces, "need someone to help you build furniture." He smiles when you giggle. His heart flutters, "I'll be here every day until you tell me to fuck off."

"But why?" you genuinely ask him in curiosity.

He looks away from you and at the half-assembled chair in front of him, "Because I do what I can for the people I love." He then clears his throat and goes back to assembling the chair.

You stare at him in disbelief. He loves you. Bucky Barnes just said he loves you. He-

Bucky's phone starts ringing and he answers it. He hugs it between his ear and his shoulder as he screws in another piece of the chair, "Yeah?" He listens to the caller and lets out a long sigh, "Alright. I'll be over in a bit. Keep 'em awake. Bye."

You look at him with concern, "Everything okay?"

"Got more info on the guys who shot us up. Need to meet with Romanoff." Bucky grunts as he stands, pocketing his phone. His runs a hand through his brunette locks, "If you're still here when I'm done, I'll come back. Maybe I can get you some food since I know you don't eat when you get too busy."

You stand, meeting his gaze, a soft smile on your lips. Bucky knows you so well and you can't believe its taken you this long to see how he truly feels.

"Bucky?"

"Yeah?"

You lean in, pressing your lips to his in a gentle kiss. He's frozen in place and by the time he registers what's happening, you pull away, "I love you. Thank you for always taking care of me and being there for me."

"I, uh-" his face starts turning pink, "Ye-Yeah. Of course, sugar. I-shit." He hides his face in his hands and you can't help but laugh. You've turned The White Wolf of Brooklyn into blubbering, blushing mess.

He drops his hands from his face and he's smiling wide, "You love me? Really?"

"I do. I've loved you for a long time. I-I always hoped you felt the same. I thought you did with the flirting and how you were always there for me. But I'd see you do the same with others so I figured-"

He shakes his head, "No, sugar. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was so confusing. I-shit, Y/N, everything I do and say is because I love you. I love you so fucking much. I'd burn the world for you," he steps closer, placing his hands on your hips, nose grazing yours.

"For a big scary mobster, you're quite the softie, aren't you?"

"Don't let the guys know. It'd ruin my reputation," he murmurs, leaning in for another kiss.

"It's fine. We already know," Steve says as he stands there with his arms across his chest and a smirk on his face.

Bucky frowns, "Way to ruin the mood, Rogers."

Steve shrugs, "Sorry, but we have some important stuff to attend to."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Bucky steps away with a pout, "Sugar-"

You pull him back in for a kiss and he's quick to kiss you back this time. You then break the kiss with a grin, "Go take care of business, boss."

Bucky is a little dizzy and has a goofy grin on his face, "You got it, boss." He pecks your lips one last time and then steps away, "Got another reason to call you sugar now."

"Yeah?"

He nods, "'Cause your lips taste so sweet," he says with a wink and follows Steve out of the cafe.

You're not sure how you can get back to work after that kiss and confession. But you'll have to do your best!

[mcrdvcks]

fantasize

chapter summary: You have a crush on Logan, but you're not sure he likes you back. Why would he? You're not his type. At least that's what you thought.

word count: 2.4k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: here was the request

so i took a tad bit of creative freedom since i read a book on my kindle (that i got for christmas, one of the only good things about that day). it's a holiday romance/comedy book called 'good elf gone wrong' that you can read if you have kindle unlimited

anyways i took some inspiration from that book and applied it here, so i hope you enjoy it! and thank y'all for 900 followers!

warnings/tags: implied curvy!reader, slight angst, fluff, kinda protective!logan

The Danger Room was quieter than usual, with most of the team taking the rare free evening to relax or catch up on personal projects. Logan had been in there for a while, his gruff voice occasionally echoing out as he muttered to himself between sessions. The clang of metal on metal and the occasional snarl punctuated the stillness, but it wasn’t long before he stepped out, towel slung over his shoulder and a half-empty bottle of water in hand.

You were walking down the hall, carrying a box of supplies Hank had asked you to grab from the storage room. The box wasn’t heavy, but it was awkward, making it hard to see where you were going. You nearly bumped into Logan as he came around the corner.

“Whoa, easy there,” he said, steadying the box with one hand before it could topple.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, shifting it to your hip to get a better grip. “Hank needed these for his lab. Guess I should’ve watched where I was going.”

Logan smirked, leaning casually against the wall. “You’re always doin’ stuff for people, huh? Gotta learn to say no once in a while.”

“It’s fine,” you replied quickly. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Hmm,” Logan said, his tone somewhere between a grunt and genuine amusement. He stepped back to let you pass. “Well, don’t let McCoy bury ya in work. You’ve got your own stuff to handle too, y’know.”

You smiled faintly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Logan watched as you disappeared around the corner, his brow furrowing slightly before he shook his head and headed off toward the kitchen. He wasn’t one to meddle in other people’s lives, but something about you always made him pay a little more attention.

---

“Hey, would you mind making 50 copies of this? I need it for my class in 2 hours but I have a meeting with the Professor.” Jean said, holding a single piece of paper, some activity for her class.

Even though you were cleaning the kitchen because Scott asked you to, and you had to fix the sprinkler system since Ororo couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it, you obliged. “Yeah, sure!” you replied, taking off your gloves you were using to clean to grab the paper from Jean to put in your small tote for later.

It was later in the evening when you finally got a moment to yourself. The mansion had settled into its usual rhythm of quiet chaos, and you found yourself in the rec room, curled up on one of the oversized chairs with a book. The soft hum of conversation and distant clatter of dishes in the kitchen made the space feel alive but not overwhelming.

Logan walked in, towel around his neck and hair damp from a shower. He gave you a quick nod before heading to the fridge to grab a beer. As he twisted off the cap, he turned to you, leaning back against the counter.

“You’re always workin’, doll. Don’t you ever sit down and let someone else handle it?”

You looked up from your book, smiling faintly. “I’m sitting now, aren’t I?”

He chuckled, taking a swig of his beer before sauntering over to the chair opposite you. “Guess that counts. What’re you readin’?”

You held up the book to show the cover. “Just something light. Needed a break.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but not unkind. “You? Takin’ a break? That’s a first.”

“It happens,” you teased, marking your page and setting the book down on the armrest. “What about you? You’re always either in the Danger Room or off somewhere on your bike.”

“Gotta keep busy,” he said with a shrug. “Helps keep my head straight.”

You nodded, understanding the unspoken weight behind his words. Logan wasn’t one to open up easily, but you’d learned to read between the lines.

“Fair enough. I guess we’re both bad at just sitting still,” you said.

He smirked. “Yeah, but at least I don’t let people walk all over me while I’m at it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Here we go.”

“I’m just sayin’, sweetheart. You’ve got a good heart, but it’s okay to say no once in a while.” His tone was softer this time, less teasing and more genuine.

You looked down, fiddling with the edge of your book. “I don’t mind helping. Besides, it’s not like I’ve got anything else pressing to do.”

Logan leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he looked at you. “That’s not the point. You deserve time for yourself, too. Don’t let these jokers make you forget that.”

You smiled, a warmth blooming in your chest at his concern. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You better,” he said, leaning back again and taking another sip of his beer. “‘Cause if I catch you runnin’ yourself ragged again, I might just have to step in.”

“Oh, really? And what would that look like?” you asked, amused.

“Let’s just say it’d involve you sittin’ in that chair for more than five minutes without someone askin’ you to fix somethin’.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Alright, deal. But only if you promise to do the same.”

He raised his beer in a mock toast. “Deal, doll.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in companionable silence, the noise of the mansion fading into the background. Logan’s presence was steady, grounding in a way you hadn’t quite expected when you first met him. It wasn’t hard to see why you’d grown to like him so much—even if he didn’t realize it.

As you picked up your book again, you caught him watching you out of the corner of your eye. When your eyes met, he just smirked and shook his head, muttering something under his breath before finishing his beer and heading out. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, the moment lingering long after he was gone.

---

You and Ororo were making dinner, her stirring food on the stove while you cut up chicken at the counter. The kitchen smelled warm and inviting, the quiet hum of activity making it a relaxing space to chat.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Logan lately,” Ororo said, her tone light but curious.

You paused mid-slice, glancing at her with a small smile. “He’s been around, yeah. We just… talk sometimes.”

“Mmhmm,” she replied, stirring the pot without looking at you. “And you don’t think that means something?”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “No, Ro. Logan talks to everyone—well, kind of. It’s not like I’m special or anything.”

She turned to look at you, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? Because the way he looks at you sometimes…”

“What way?” you asked, feeling a warmth creep into your cheeks.

Ororo set down her spoon and crossed her arms, leaning back against the counter. “Like you’re the only person in the room. Like he actually wants to be around you—which, let’s be honest, is rare for Logan.”

You snorted, trying to brush off the comment. “He’s just… nice to me, that’s all. He probably feels sorry for me because I’m always running around doing things for everyone.”

“Nice? Logan?” Ororo gave you a pointed look. “That man growls at people for breathing wrong. He’s not just ‘nice.’”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. Could she be right? You’d always thought Logan’s kindness was just him looking out for you the way he did for everyone on the team, even if it seemed a little… different sometimes.

“Even if you’re right,” you said finally, “I don’t think he thinks about me like that. I’m not exactly his type.”

Ororo frowned, clearly unimpressed. “And what makes you think you’re not his type?”

You gestured to yourself vaguely. “Come on, ‘Ro. He’s this tough, no-nonsense guy, and I’m—”

“Amazing,” Ororo interrupted firmly. “You’re amazing. And if Logan doesn’t see that, then he’s a fool. But from where I’m standing, it seems like he does.”

You sighed, setting down the knife and leaning your elbows on the counter. “I don’t know. I just… I don’t want to make things awkward, you know? If I say something and I’m wrong, it could mess everything up.”

Ororo placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I get it. But sometimes, you’ve got to take a leap of faith. You deserve to be happy, and if Logan makes you happy, it’s worth the risk.”

Unbeknownst to either of you, Logan had wandered into the hall just in time to catch the tail end of the conversation. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his brow furrowed as he listened.

“I’ll think about it,” you said softly, returning to the chicken.

“You do that,” Ororo said with a knowing smile, turning back to the stove.

Logan cleared his throat as he stepped into the kitchen, startling both of you. “Smells good in here.”

“Oh!” You nearly dropped the knife, your heart racing. “Hey, Logan. Didn’t hear you come in.”

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on ya,” he said, his tone casual. His eyes lingered on you for a moment before flicking to Ororo. “You got room for one more?”

Ororo smirked, glancing between you and Logan. “Always. But only if you’re willing to set the table.”

Logan chuckled. “Fair enough.” He grabbed some plates from the cupboard, his movements unhurried but purposeful.

You tried to focus on the chicken, but your hands felt clumsier than usual under his gaze. Ororo shot you a sly look before turning her attention back to dinner, leaving you and Logan to fall into an easy, if slightly charged, silence.

---

Logan, for the first time in a long time, was clueless about what to do. He almost felt like a teenager, walking around with a secret—perhaps not-so-secret—crush.

To make matters worse, in the following days when he thought he had gathered himself to tell you how he felt, you flashed him a smile and all his previous thoughts went out the window. Logan found himself retreating to the Danger Room more often, grumbling under his breath about how he wasn’t built for this kind of thing.

One evening, after a particularly long day of running errands and fixing half the mansion’s quirks, you were in the rec room folding towels that had piled up in the laundry. Logan walked in, pausing in the doorway when he saw you. He frowned, his grip tightening around the beer in his hand.

“You’re kiddin’ me. Again?”

You looked up, startled. “What?”

“That,” he said, gesturing to the stack of towels. “You’re always doin’ somethin’ for everyone else.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you said, shrugging. “It needed to get done.”

Logan let out a low growl of frustration and set his beer down on the coffee table. He crossed the room in a few strides and grabbed the towel you were folding out of your hands, tossing it onto the pile. “Enough.”

“Logan, what are you doing?” you asked, startled.

“Savin’ you from yourself,” he replied, his tone firm but not unkind. “Sit.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sudden intensity. “What?”

“I said sit, doll,” he repeated, pointing to the couch. “You’re takin’ a break whether you like it or not.”

Reluctantly, you sank onto the couch, watching as he grabbed a towel and started folding it himself. “You don’t have to do that,” you said.

“Yeah, well, neither do you,” he shot back, not looking at you.

You crossed your arms, feeling both touched and mildly annoyed. “I don’t see what the big deal is. I like helping.”

“You like helpin’ so much you forget to take care of yourself,” he muttered, finishing one towel and moving onto the next.

“That’s not true,” you protested.

Logan finally looked at you, his hazel eyes piercing. “Yeah, it is. You’re runnin’ yourself into the ground, sweetheart. And for what? So McCoy doesn’t have to walk ten feet to grab his own damn supplies?”

You opened your mouth to argue but stopped. He wasn’t entirely wrong. “It’s just… easier to say yes than to make a fuss,” you admitted.

“Easier for them,” he countered. “Not for you.”

You sighed, sinking further into the couch. “Why do you care so much?”

Logan’s hands stilled, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. Then he set the towel down and turned to face you fully, his expression unreadable. “Because I like you, that’s why.”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less firm. “I like you. And it drives me nuts watchin’ you run yourself ragged for people who don’t appreciate it.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. “Logan…”

“Look, I ain’t good at this kinda thing,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “But I know what I feel. And what I feel is that you deserve better than this.”

You felt a warmth rise in your chest, a mix of disbelief and something else—hope. “I didn’t think… I mean, I thought you just saw me as some pushover,” you admitted.

He snorted. “A pushover? Nah. You’re tougher than you give yourself credit for. But that doesn’t mean you gotta carry everyone else’s weight all the time.”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. Logan took a step closer, crouching down in front of you so you were eye level. “You don’t gotta say anything, doll. Just… promise me you’ll start puttin’ yourself first for once.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll try.”

He gave you a small smile, one that made your heart flutter. “Good.”

Before you could overthink it, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Logan froze, his eyes widening slightly as he looked at you. “What was that for?”

You shrugged, feeling bold for the first time. “For caring.”

A slow grin spread across his face, and before you knew it, he was leaning in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he kissed you—gentle at first, then deeper, more sure. When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless.

“That… was overdue,” he said, his voice low and a little rough.

You laughed softly. “Yeah, maybe a little.”

Logan smirked, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Guess I’ll have to stick around more. Make sure you’re takin’ those breaks.”

“Oh, is that what this is about?” you teased.

“Part of it,” he said with a wink. “The other part… well, we’ll figure it out.”

And for once, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you deserved to be taken care of too.

[acesofspadess]

Track Walk

landoscar x content creator!reader

part 1 // part 2 // part 3

series summary: You were invited to the Miami GP for your Track Walk series on social media, what follows after you run into a certain Papaya boy, no one could prepare you for...

series warnings: cursing, angst, smut, making out, mentions of people you may not like, mmf, threesome/throuple, if there is more let me know... ;)

a/n: this a long 4 part series, but the chapters will be released daily!! also... there is no hate to anyone mention in this story, it is a work of fiction and any hate towards the characters/people will be deleted.

Miami 2024 

“Hello lovely F1 fans!” You said to the camera you were holding quite close to your face, “We’ve got a bit of a different setting today, because we are at the…” You took the camera away from your face to show the full setting, “Miami GP!”

You were a small F1 content creator who had become known for your at home ‘track-walks’. Every Thursday you would walk around your neighbourhood or get on the treadmill and walk the length of the race circuit for the weekend.

“This is my first ever GP, as you all know, and I just can’t explain to you all how excited I am. A big thank you to Liquid IV for sponsoring this trip, and this video. We are starting at the P1 box, because obviously. We’ve got a total of 5.4 kilometers to walk, so let's get to it.”

Throughout the walk you filmed information on the track, the city, the race, and even some snippets of fans who happened to know who you were.You were doing a light run when at one point in the video you saw a group of papaya and flipped the camera at them and slowed to a light jog, “I think those are our papaya boys, if I’m not mistaken.” You whispered into the mic. As you jogged past them you looked up and saw it was just Lando with some of his team. 

“Good luck this weekend.” You called out as you surpassed them. “Cheers!” Lando called out with a small smile. You smiled back and continued with your jog and video. “Meeting Lando Norris, can check that off the bucket list.” You laughed softly to the camera. When you made it back to the P1 box you started to end the video. “Well that was so much fun, thank you again to Liquid IV for bringing me out here. Cheers to a hopefully amazing weekend.”

An amazing weekend it was indeed. That Sunday you watched Lando Norris get his maiden win. It was safe to say you were crying in the VIP box as he crossed the line. That night you went back to the hotel with endless happiness, your life couldn’t get any better. Or so you thought.

You woke up that morning to your phone buzzing relentlessly. Every two seconds it felt like someone was liking, commenting, and following you. You sat up in shock logging into tiktok to see that your most recent track walk video had jumped from a few thousand views and likes, to millions of each, and your follower count was soaring as well.

You went through some of the comments laughing at them saying this was your first grand prix and it was the best one ever. Some said you wishing him luck was the reason he won and you replied to those comments teasingly.

It was a few hours later when you were getting ready to head back home that you saw the best notifications. 

Lando Norris liked your video

Lando Norris commented on your video

You were thoroughly freaking out. You opened tiktok for the hundredth time that day to see if your eyes were deceiving you, they were not.

Lando Norris: "Maybe this was my lucky charm. Thanks for the good vibes! 🧡"

You screamed in the comfort of your hotel room as you read it, replying back.

“I’ll need to come to a lot more races this season if this is the outcome. Congratulations! 🧡”

Hungary 2024

A few weeks had passed since Miami and everything that came with it. You still continued on your content journey with track walks and other videos with your new following. “Hello lovely F1 fans, old and new. We are here with another special edition track walk!” You cheered showing your surroundings. “I’ve been doing some overtime and made my way to the Hungaroring, so let’s go on a walk…” 

The walk itself went as normal, shared some info, showed the surroundings, and made it seem like a facetime time call. It was almost comical how when you were walking off the track you actually bumped into someone, that someone being Oscar Piastri. “I’m so sorry, I was not paying any attention.” You apologised immediately. He just chuckled, waving you off. “Don’t worry about it. Making a video?” He said looking at the camera. You nodded shyly. “Yeah another track walk.” He nodded at the information, slowly getting awkward. “Well, in true fashion. Good luck this weekend.” You bid and he thanked you with a chuckle.

Once again, it was a Mclaren win. This time, it was for Oscar. You were starting to go a little crazy. How was it that everytime you came to a race McLaren won? Again your video blew up, and like clock work, Oscar commented.

Oscar Piastri liked your video

Oscar Piastri commented on your video

You opened the video and tapped on the comments to see what he had put…

Oscar Piastri: Guess I owe you a huge thank you for the good luck wishes. Let's see if this works every time!”

You giggled lightly at the comment before writing a reply back…

“I’d go to every race if I could! Congratulations !!!”

Zandvoort 2024

Over the summer break you worked endlessly on your upcoming finals for your graduation in December. You were missing F1, and needed your fix. In a last ditch attempt at getting your best friend to come with you, you ended up back in Zandvoort.  “Hello F1 friends! We are here in Zandvoort, home of Max Verstappen. We’ve got lots of orange here so I’m just going to say everyone is in papaya.” 

There was no meeting on track this go around, but that night just as you were getting ready to call it, you got a DM from McLaren. You thought it was just a community thing and glanced at it, but when you saw your name, you sat up quickly. You opened it with shaky hands and read the message:

“Hey Y/N!! Hope you're enjoying your weekend in Zandvoort so far! You’ve got a name here in McLaren and we want to invite you to spend the rest of the weekend with the team in the garage! If you send us a photo of yourself, we can get you your passes by morning! Just give us a call when you get there and let us take care of everything else.” 

It was safe to say you might be receiving a noise complaint from your neighbours. Immediately you grabbed your camera and turned it on. “Hi friends, I’m shaking right now,” you laughed in shock. “McLaren just invited me to their garage this weekend. What the fuck?!” You showed the camera your phone where the message was still up. “Your girl is going to the McLaren garage, which means vlog time.”

You cut the video there and replied to McLaren with immense gratitude and a photo.

Walking up to the paddock entrance you had phoned McLaren and let them know you were walking up. You saw someone in Papaya and they waved at you enthusiastically. She passed you your passes over the barrier so that you could scan in. “This is crazy.” You said while she laughed. “I run all the social media accounts, and when I saw your videos I just had to pull some strings for you. You’re genuine, we like that at McLaren.” She told you honestly and you smiled bashfully. “Thank you, that means a lot.”

She then gave you a run through of everything happening in the garage, in the hub, and in the paddock revolving McLaren. The paddock wasn’t new to you, but this whole experience was strange to you. “And then you have a scooter to get around as well. Just don’t hit anyone because papaya is an easy colour to notice.” You laughed with her knowing how true it was. “I’ll do my best.”

You bounced between sides all morning, watching the teams set up the car for Lando and Oscar. You loved both drivers equally, you would never be able to choose one. You were on Lando’s side not paying much attention to your surroundings when two bodies stood in front of you. You looked up to get out of the way when you saw Oscar and Lando. “Following us now?” Lando asked with a smile. “I should ask you the same thing.” You shot back and Oscar chuckled. “They told us this morning you would be here for the rest of the weekend. It’s nice to see you.” Lando nodded in agreement and smiled happily. “It was a last minute decision to come,” you told them, “and then I got invited into the garage, it’s definitely going to be a good weekend.” The three of you laughed softly knowing the hidden meaning. “Well I’m certainly looking forward to a win this weekend.” Oscar shared. “She was my lucky charm first.” Lando pointed out. “Don’t fight!” You laughed, “I’ll be cheering the both of you on, see?” You took off your hat to show the underside of the brim. Each side had a number on it. “I stitched two of them together.” You informed. “That’s actually really cool.” Oscar said, taking the hat for a closer look.

“Your nails! Osc look at them.” Lando said taking your hands in his and showing off your nails, one hand was dedicated to Lando and his famous helmet design, and the other side was Oscars helmet design with a croissant on the ring finger. “Very funny.” He said when he saw it. “It was this or a cat.” You shrugged and Lando laughed as Oscar shook his head.

“Boys!” The two drivers looked behind them to see the clock counting down. “I will not be the reason you two don’t win this weekend so do go.” You pushed them lightly. “Thank you for coming, we’ll chat again later.” Lando said, going in for a hug. “Of course, go top both practices.” You cheered as Oscar also gave you a hug before the both of them went to their respective sides of the garage.

f1gossipofficial 

liked by user4 and others

f1gossipofficial Who’s that? Today before FP1 both McLaren drivers were seen talking and hugging with someone in their garage. In a different view, we can see that the person is content creator Y/N L/N who has gone viral for being the duo’s ‘good luck charm’. The three seem to be very cosy considering they’ve never officially met. 

view comments

user4 THAT SHOULD BE ME

user5 she posted a mini vlog on her tiktok this morning! She said McLaren dm’ed her and asked for her to be in the garage

User9 awwe that’s so sweet of McLaren to do for her 

user6 something about her doesn’t seem right

user7 don’t start, she’s one of the nicest people I’ve seen on tiktok

user8 another McLaren win is incoming

The following two days of the weekend were spent filming and nerding out over being in the garage. Lando and Oscar of course got super busy over the following two days, but they still managed to give you a wave when they could. Watching the race from the garage and hearing the live feed, watching the pit crew get ready for the pit stops, the actual pit stops, it was beyond magical for you. And without fail, one of the boys won, this time in Lando’s favor by 20 seconds.

You got to celebrate with the team, some of them recognising you and saying you needed to be here more often. Days like this were what you dreamed for. In between the chaos, you never managed to say goodbye to the papaya drivers, but they did DM you.

Lando Norris has followed you

Oscar Piastri has followed you

You’ve been added to a groupchat with Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri

Your eyes almost flew out of your head when you saw the notifications. This wasn’t happening, you thought but you clicked on it anyway.

Lando Norris: We didn’t get the chance to say goodbye, but we just wanted to thank you for your support and coming to as many races as you can!

Oscar Piastri: Lando’s said it all, but hopefully you can come to another race soon, and we’ll try to win even if you can’t.

You laughed at the very opposite but almost the same message from each of them. Your hands were shaking as you replied back.

Y/N L/N: You were having too much fun celebrating the win! A big thank you to you guys as well for making it so easy to support a great team. Hopefully I can get to a race soon! If not I’ll be watching from home still cheering you guys on!

Oscar Piastri: you don’t have to be so formal 😂I feel like we can call you a friend if you keep helping us win

Lando Norris: what osc said, don’t be a stranger.

Y/N L/N: no need to bully me! You’re a-listers! How else was i supposed to respond

Lando Norris: OMG!!! I can’t believe you texted me!! You followed me too OMG OMG OMG. I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH 🧡🧡🥰🥰🥳🥳 ASGKWBEWOEHJ

Oscar Piastri: like that ^^

Y/N L/N: that’s what I’m doing on the inside lol, but i think I would block myself if I did actually typed that

Lando Norris: yeah it was a bit weird to type 😂

Oscar Piastri: great, now I have two of you

You tilted your head at the comment but shook it off. You were pretty similar to Lando on the goofy side of things.

Y/N L/N: Don’t worry Oscar, when I’m not on an adrenaline high like I am right now, I’m more like you than you think

Lando Norris: great, now there’s two of you

Oscar Piastri: i’ll have to see this in person then

Y/N L/N: is that an invite I’m hearing?

Lando Norris: sounds like it to me.

Oscar Piastri: it was indeed.

Y/N L/N: i’ll see what my work and class schedule looks like and I’ll get back to you on that offer. Graduation is soon so i’m balancing a lot of things

Lando Norris: its my offer too!!!!!!

Oscar Piastri: what do you go to school for?

Y/N L/N: noted Lando, and sports journalism, dream job is to work in F1.

Lando Norris: That’s mint! I think you’ll do good

Oscar Piastri: you’ve got a very warming personality that I’m sure all the drivers will like. If you ever need to practise, we’re here.

Lando Norris: If you twist my words I’ll know you did it

Oscar Piastri: Lando!

Y/N L/N: Lando!! 😭 I promise I won’t, this season especially really helped push me into this because I hate the way the media portrays two/three of the nicest people ever.

Lando Norris: i know we’re the two…but who’s three

Oscar Piastri: guess 🦁

Lando Norris: NOOOOOOOOO

Lando Norris: WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO MEEE

Oscar Piastri:  😂😂😂

Y/N L/N: IM SORRY!!! I CAN’T HELP IT!!

Y/N L/N: Oscar!! Why would you throw me under like that!!

Oscar Piastri: *this user is no longer available*

Lando Norris: invite has been taken back.

Y/N L/N: nooo!!! I’m sorry!!! OSCAR!!!!!

Oscar Piastri: *this user apologises for the chaos he has now unpacked*

Baku 2024

Within the three weeks that passed between Zandvoort and Baku, Oscar and Lando never stopped texting you. The three of you figured out you had a lot in common and clicked like magnets. Over that time, you had plenty of new followers and decided to do a Q&A on your tiktok.

“How am I able to go to so many GP’s? Are you a millionaire?” You laughed after reading the question. “I’m not a millionaire by any means. I saved up for about a little over a year, didn’t go out with friends unless it was a birthday, didn’t buy unnecessary stuff, just was really good with not spending so I could treat myself this year. I’m in my last months of uni, which I got a full scholarship for, so not having to worry about school costs is also a great help.”

“Have you spoken to Lando and Oscar since your time in the garage? They follow you now too.” You thought quickly about it, “I haven’t no,” oops. “They were just being polite and doing their jobs when they saw me in the garage. As for the following thing, I can’t tell you why they decided to do that, but I'm not complaining.” You chuckled.

“What are you studying in Uni?”

“I’m in my final months of my sports journalism major. That's why I’m a big fan of F1, but also F1 got me into journalism, it's a circle of interest.” You mimicked drawing a circle that never ends.

In those three weeks you had also moved your group chat out of Instagram.

Osco: Is it terrible to say I miss having you in the garage?

Landito: wow Osc, straight to the point

Osco: leave me alone

Y/N: if it's anything I miss being in the garage, but no it’s terrible

Landito: what he means to say is…. we miss seeing you in person

Osco: facetime isn’t enough

Osco: come to Baku?

Landito: we took back her invite remember?

Osco: you took back your invite…

Y/N: i’ll be there already

Landito: WAIT REALLY???

Osco: is this a prank?

Y/N: yes really

Y/N: and no not a prank

Osco: answer please

Your phone started ringing just as you read it. You were in no position to be facetiming two people you now had a crush on… yeah, that also happened over the three weeks. You tried to tell yourself they were just being nice and you were caught up, but the way they acted sometimes led you to believe otherwise.

“Why am I looking at the ceiling?” Lando pointed out. “Because I am in no way showing you what I look like right now.” You laughed at them. “Yes you are.” Oscar commented. “We facetimed you for a reason.”

“Face please.” Lando asked sweetly, and you rolled your eyes. There you were in your McLaren x Reiss jacket, curls thrown up into a mix of a bun and ponytail, and glasses over your eyes. “You wear glasses?!” Lando said peeking over Oscar’s shoulder. They were always together, you started to realise.

“Yes, Lando. I wear glasses.” You shook your head with a small smile. “Well, you look beautiful as always. What’s this about you coming to Baku and not telling us?” Oscar moved on swiftly. “It was supposed to be a surprise! I was-”

“Nope, if it’s a surprise we shall wait.” Oscar cut her off. “I don’t want to wait though.” Lando groaned from behind him. “It’s in 2 days, Lando.” Oscar said, looking at the head that was now on his shoulder. “2 days too long.” He mumbled. “I promise it’ll be worth it!”

And worth it it was. After your track walk, there you were, the media pen, questions about the upcoming weekend ready, with an F1 TV microphone in your hand. F1 had reached out to you after your Q&A video asking about your sports journalism career. One thing led to another and here you were.

“Hey Max, first things first, how are you feeling this weekend?” Max smiled. “I mean, I’m feeling fine, I definitely need to get in the car to see how we do on track. Not very well if you’re here though.” 

“You know who I am?” You asked in shock. “All other drivers hope you don’t make it to the races with the track record you have, but someone told me I was one of your favourites.” Of course they did. “Well they wouldn’t be lying.” You chuckled shyly. 

Max leaned on the gate as you got your questions ready. "This year has seen a shift in the competitive order with McLaren and Ferrari stepping up. You’ve still proven to be one of the best drivers this season and currently lead the Drivers' Championship, with Red Bull fighting to stay at the top in the Constructors’. With three titles already under your belt, how do you maintain focus when the dominance you’ve grown used to in both championships isn’t guaranteed anymore—especially heading into a high-risk, high-reward circuit like Baku, where unpredictability often plays a major role?"

Max seemed a little shocked with the question. “I mean…” You nodded along as he answered and when he finished and the camera was off he smiled. “Those were very good questions. I look forward to seeing you the rest of the weekend.” You smiled at him. “Thank you, it means a lot.”

You got similar style compliments from other drivers and when the papaya boys walked in and spotted you they both smiled but had to work their way down the pen. Oscar was the first to get to your station. A quick glance to his eyes showed the professionalism he was using to hide the sheer excitement at seeing you again. “Hey Oscar, you’re going into this weekend with a double podium from Monza, how are you preparing for this weekend to get the same results if not better?”

Oscar chuckled. “Well if you’re here then a McLaren win seems to be in the cards.” You shook your head at him as he smirked. “But…”

“Thank you Oscar, good luck this weekend.” Before he left he reached over the barrier to give you a quick hug. “Nice to see you again.” He said before walking off. Lando quickly took his position and gave you his eye-closing smile. “Hey you.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Hey Lando, after the double podium in Monza, it’s clear that McLaren has made significant strides this season. With the Constructors' Championship in reach with just 11 points to Red Bull, how do you approach a circuit like Baku, where opportunities and risks are amplified? Do you feel this weekend could be pivotal in swinging the fight for the Constructors’ in McLaren’s favor against Ferrari as well?"

Lando tilted his head. “You’re one of the only people who’s brought Ferrari into the Constructors fight.” He pointed out and you shrugged lightly. “You’ve said before that Red Bull isn’t your competition, Ferrari is.”

Lando’s interview came and went just as quickly as Oscars and he too ended the interview with a hug. Charles and Carlos were just after and both of them mentioned knowing who you were and to take a stop at their garage.

The weekend went really well. Any free time you had was bouncing between garages and meeting new people. And like clock work, McLaren won the race, in Oscar’s favour. You were doing post race interviews and the wide smile on Oscar’s face when he saw you made your insides warm. “Please come to every race.” He joked and you laughed lightly. “Congratulations on your win today Oscar, after some very good fights with Charles…”

Because you had to go through every driver, and then got invited to talk about your experience on F1 TV-

“We are bringing on the voice you’ve heard all weekend, Y/N L/N.” Laura introduced as you walked into the middle of the group. “How are you?” She asked. “I’m doing really amazing. It’s been such a busy weekend for me, all thanks to you guys for inviting me and giving me some on the field action.”

Will Buxton spoke next. “You’ve become a big name here, everytime you come to a race, a McLaren driver wins. How is that even possible?”

You laughed alongside the rest of the panel. “I just put 50 kilos of extra weight in everyones car before the race this time. I think I’ll run the engine out next time though. Make everyone have grid-penalties.” You joked and they all laughed again. “It’s been so nice having you with us this weekend! We hope that you can join us again sometime soon!”

-you were able to stay much longer into the evening. Making your way to the McLaren garage you saw that they were prepping for a team photo and you quickly got your camera out to snap the moment for yourself. “No, you get in here too!” Zak yelled seeing you and the team cheered in agreement. You shook your hands not wanting to spoil it but then you were getting picked up from behind by a shoeless Lando and plopped right to Oscar.

Oscar placed an arm around you with a wide smile. “This is too much.” You told him. “Nope, it’s not.” He smiled again. You shook your head but smiled and cheered for the picture as well, and then the champagne. The team member next to you handed you their bottle with a wink at Oscar. Right as the photo ended you shook the bottle and made sure to douse Oscar as he tried to run away. Lando also joined you and the three of you were getting drenched in everyone else's champagne.

“There are two of you!” Oscar joked. “Yeah you might be right about that.” Lando laughed, clearing champagne from his eyes. “That was fun!” you laughed clinking Oscars champagne bottle. “You’ve got about 5 minutes before you start to smell.” He laughed and then your face fell. “I don’t have a change of clothes!” Lando laughed as you freaked out and Oscar just hugged you. “I’m sure we can find you something to wear.”

They did, you were wearing a team kit from their spare room in the hub. It was enough to get you to your hotel room. “Want to ride with us to the hotel?” Lando asked coming to walk with you as you reached the doors to walk out. “Yeah that sounds good.” He took your hand just as you were going to exit. “We have to wait for Oscar.” He said and you nodded and without letting go of your hand he dragged you back towards the main area.

“Did you enjoy your weekend?” He asked as you two leaned against a wall. “It was an amazing weekend.” You smiled giddily, closing your eyes. “I hope this doesn’t change that.” You opened your eyes to see Lando coming closer to you, eyes looking down at your lips. You nodded lightly and he closed the gap between your lips. His teeth nipped yours, with a sense of impatience. “Just couldn’t wait could you.” You broke away with his head resting against yours. Oscar. Why did you feel so guilty? “Oscar I-” He just shook his head with a laugh coming to your otherside. “I won, does that mean I get a kiss?” 

You looked at Lando who still had that dazed smile, then back to Oscar. “You didn’t tell her, did you?” He said and Lando shook his head. “We’re dating, now can I kiss you please?” He said quickly before taking your lips in his. His kiss was softer but still as impatient. “We’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He sighed when he pulled away. 

“Really?” You asked softly, hand coming to press against your tingling lips. “Yes, since we started texting you. Oscar and I just couldn’t get you out of our heads.” Lando said with a small smile. 

“I thought I was being delusional.” You chuckled softly. “Not at all.” Oscar's hand went to your hip softly squeezing. “Come to Singapore with us, please.” You looked at Lando who took your hand and held it in his own. “Please.” You nodded almost in a trance.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR CHECK INS *  assorted dialogue for checking with someone to see if they're okay, find out what's going on, etc etc., adjust as necessary

do you have everything you need for your trip?

how have you been since i last saw you?

pretty sure you never told me what happened.

while you're doing that, why don't you fill me in?

you're the only person that cares to ask how i am.

when's the last time you slept?

i won't tell a soul if you tell me what happened.

i just want to make sure you're okay.

i haven't spoken to you in quite some time.

could you give me a rundown of what happened?

i'd like to know what's going on.

what am i walking into?

it's not as bad as it looks.

you can trust me with the truth.

let me take a look at your injury.

you haven't slept in days. i can tell.

thank you for checking on me.

are you feeling better than you were the last time i saw you?

i'm just checking on you.

not trying to bug you. just wanted to know what's going on.

at least fill me in before you go.

walk me through what we're dealing with.

i hear you've got a plan?

do you need anything?

you can tell me anything.

i'll live.

let me grab you something to drink.

thank you for asking how i am.

when's the last time you ate?

that wound doesn't look too good.

would you relax for a second? i'm just checking on you.

that was a lie. try again and tell me the truth this time.

you're forgetting how well i know you.

you can't lie to me. i know all your tells.

stop bullshitting me and tell me what's really going on.

what are you hiding from me?

keep talking. i want to hear everything.

to tell you the truth, i'm struggling a bit here.

i think i deserve some honesty here.

i just want to check on you.

i'll come by in an hour and see how you're doing.

while i'm gone, [name] will be by to check on you.

can you let me care about you for two seconds?

you're terrible at keeping secrets from me.

you seem upset. what happened?

how long have you been dealing with this?

thanks for stopping by.

this sounds a lot worse than i expected.

you've been dealing with this alone, haven't you?

i've told you everything i know.

let me cook for you at least.

you look half-starved.

are you cold? why are you shaking?

there's more to the story that you're not saying.

why do you keep evading my questions?

that's not all there is, right?

so that's what they've been hiding.

thank you for being honest with me.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Dick, and Jason being given a hand-knitted scarf that's obviously done by his s/o who is an amateur as his Christmas present please?

Dick

He’s crying.

No seriously-

He adored the amateur scarf so much but has to keep it away from Hayley in fear that she’ll think it’s for her and be rough with it.

So he puts it on high shelves that his beloved dog can’t reach but he will check now and then to make sure it’s still there and not in Hayley’s mouth out of a weird need to make sure his dog isn’t preforming some death defying stunt just for a scarf.

Sorry- the scarf that you made specifically for him. It was a beautiful deep blue scarf with a few mistakes here and there but dick tested it as though it was one of a kind because it kinda was, at least to him as no one else could make a scarf like you as the mistake and such only add character to the piece of clothing.

It wasn’t perfect but that’s what dick loved the most about the scarf and it happened to be the best present he’s ever gotten from anyone.

‘I know it’s not the best but-‘

Dick is already shushing you as he burrows his head into the soft fabric and just sinking into it when he could smell you embedded in the scarf, relaxing him almost immediately. ‘This is the fucking best present I’ve ever gotten, the best.’ He said, voice muffled but you smiled as you watched him fiddle with the deep blue scarf gingerly, cradling not to his chest as though scared to depart from it.

‘Thank you.’ Dick tells you as he leans over to kiss you on the cheek. ‘I shall treasure it forever.’ He adds before throwing the scarf onto him and rushes to see how he looked in the nearby mirror.

That scarf never leaves that man. Ever.

Jason

Loves the love and effort that was put into the scarf.

He doesn’t care that you’re an amateur, he’s wearing the scarf to absolute death, even when it wasn’t exactly weather appropriate to wear.

He’s always preferred hand made stuff to begin with and the fact that you weren’t out of your way to make him something, despite that crochet/ knitting wasn’t exactly your strong suit, and took the time and energy into the hours it took you to make it for him.

‘It’s perfect sweetheart.’ Jason said when you gave him the ruby red scarf but you also managed to somehow stitch -somewhat sloppily- his favourite book quote into the inside of the scarf so that he could read it whenever he needed.

It was his favourite part of the scarf and you got multiple kisses to you face for that alone, then some extra more for the scarf itself because no one had put this much time, thought and effort into something just for him and only him.

Needless to say that was more then enough to get him a little in his emotions because he’s still in denial of having someone as sweet and thoughtful as you with him, so the scarf becomes something that he’s more then willing to go to war for should even a little bit get cut or snagged even by a little.

For it was the one thing he has of you that he can’t separate from even if he tried, he clings to everything you give him tightly and holds it close to his chest and will glare at anyone who dared tried to grab for it out of curiosity.

Even his own family weren’t allowed to touch his scarf nor know who gave it to him in the first place, he’s not about to let you be aware of them just yet, one day but that one day will be when pigs fucking fly and fish start walking onto land. He’s keeping you far from them as possible.

Anyway the ruby red scarf with the book quote sloppy stitched to its inside was his comfort item, and he’s going to hold it as though he was a dragon protecting its horde possessively. He’s got the whole ‘touch the scarf and you’ll be dying in an alleyway quicker than you might think’ mentality when it comes to the scarf you made him.

Hell if anyone says it’s shit, he’s going for the jugular. Nobody talks shit about your scarf in front of him, especially if they’ve never tried themselves like you have because want the fuck would they know about the effort you put into something you made for him.

In his eyes your scarf was pure gold in his eyes and he will contour to do so for a very long time.

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 1: Maids

And so we begin this crazy month with a G!P Jihyo. Needed to say that as a warning.

Length: 2K

G!P Jihyo x Mreader

You look around your apartment and sigh. It was filled with empty boxes from packages you had long since opened and other trash. A sound at the door gets your attention, and you walk over; a flyer is at the front, slid underneath your door. “That’s the last thing I need,” you think to yourself before picking up the flyer and turning it over. “Maid Service” was written in big, bold letters across the top, and pictures of women in the stereotypical maid outfit were pictured under it. You look back at the mess in your apartment before considering calling the service. You think about how much work it would be to clean everything up and sigh before looking at the flyer again. “What’s the worst that can happen?” You say aloud before grabbing your phone and calling the number.

A woman picks up the phone on the other end, happily greeting you. “Hello, and thank you for calling Smile Maid Service. How can we help you?” 

“Uh, Hi, I’d like a maid to come over.”

“Of course, sir. Do you have anything that is particularly messy, like a kitchen or bathroom?” 

“No, nothing like that.”

“Okay, thank you, sir. Give me a moment while I get you a maid.” She tells you that you hear some typing in the background before she comes back to the line. “Okay, I just need a little more information. How long would you like to use our service?”

You glance at the mess and consider how long it might take someone to clean it up. “About three hours,” 

“Okay, and what is your address?” You give the woman your address, and after a minute of typing something, she updates you. “Alright, you’re all set. We’ll have our maid Jihyo go over; she’ll be there in thirty minutes. You will make your payment to her; she can take cash or a card. Thank you for calling Smile Maid Service. Have a wonderful day.” The woman hangs up, and you sit down in your living room. As you wait for Jihyo to arrive, you look around and feel embarrassed to have such a mess when someone is coming over. You break down the boxes, laying them on one side of the living room while you wait for Jihyo to arrive. 

There’s a knock on the door. You look at the clock; it must be Jihyo. “Smile Maid Service, Jihyo here!” You hear being shouted from the other side. You walk to the door and open it. Standing before you was a short woman dressed just like the women on the flyer. It’s frilly around the bottom and tight on the top, giving a nice shape to Jihyo’s chest. She steps inside and looks around without missing a beat. “Thank you for hiring me; I’ll get started right away.” She says with a smile. Seeing the flattened boxes on the ground, she picks them up, heaving them over her shoulder, and takes them to the trash downstairs before coming back to clean the room.

“You can rest; I’ll clean up here.” Jihyo huffs as she takes a deep breath. You sit back on the couch, watching Jihyo work diligently as she cleans your apartment. You can’t help but stare at her; Jihyo was beautiful, and the maid outfit made her look better. You were getting hard watching her work. “Hey, Jihyo.”

“Yes?” Jihyo turns around to you, flashing some money in her face. 

“Could I see you work with your tits out?” You ask bluntly. 

The sudden request takes Jihyo aback, and she takes a moment to recover. She glances at the money before shaking her head. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t—" You pull out larger bills before she can finish her sentence. 

“How about this much?” Jihyo bites her lip as she stares at the money before her. It’s no small amount. She hangs her head as she agrees, feeling shameful as she takes the money. Jihyo turns around, reaching behind her back and finding the zipper to her dress. She pulls it down slowly, her lavender bra showing as she stops just above her waist. The young woman unclasps her bra, holding the large cups against her chest before pulling them away from her body. Jihyo's chest heaves as she takes in a deep breath. 

“Happy sir?” She says with a slight smile. You nod, and Jihyo soon returns to cleaning, her tits jiggling as she moves from side to side. Jihyo begins to make a conscious effort to slow her movements in an attempt to stop her breasts from moving. 

While she’s doing that, you stare at her tits, noting her hard brown nipples. Jihyo continued to work, growing uncomfortable at the attention she was receiving. She was getting hard at the attention you were giving her, a small tent forming on the lower half of her outfit. Jihyo tries to continue working, but her dress gets in the way. You notice the small tent and bring it up. “Jihyo, it looks like your dress is getting in the way. Why don’t you take it off, too?” You tell her, flashing even more money her way.

She gives you a slight nod and places her hands on the zipper of her outfit, lowering it slightly before moving her hands around to her waist and pushing the maid outfit off her body. Jihyo's hard cock was barely restrained by her panties. As much as she felt embarrassed by the situation, Jihyo was also getting turned on. It was the first time someone had wielded their power over her like this. “You know what? Take the panties off, too. I want to see you naked.” You tell her, adding more bills to her growing pile. Jihyo doesn’t resist, bending herself over and removing her panties. She stands back up slowly and continues working around the house, naked, her cock still hard and twitching as she imagines what you’ll have her do next. 

When Jihyo leaves the living room to clean another room in the home, you take the time to strip down, and when she returns, she immediately notices. Her eyes remain glued to your cock for what seems like forever; her own cock twitches at the sight, but soon enough, she manages to pull herself away and continue her work.

You stroke your cock as you watch the young woman. Jihyo can’t help but glance at you; her body feels warmer whenever she does, and she finds herself in more revealing positions as she cleans. Jihyo would bend over when she cleaned the lower shelves over your bookcase, giving you a good view of her body, or as of now, she was squatting between your legs, cleaning the coffee table in front of you. She rose slowly, allowing you a close look at her ass. 

You struggle to resist touching her and eventually give in to your desires. You spread Jihyo’s cheeks and dive in, running your tongue around her puckered asshole. Jihyo moans instantly, her cock twitching as she’s hit with a sudden rush of pleasure. Jihyo uses the table to support herself as she fills your home with her moans. She curls her toes and reaches for her cock, stroking it slowly as she feels your tongue push into her ass. “Oh, fuck,” She groans, moving her hand faster. She didn’t care that she just met you; you’re giving her money and pleasure.

Jihyo thought about how she could get used to it. She pushed her hips back, letting you snake her tongue deeper inside of her. Jihyo began to stroke her cock quickly as she felt herself get closer to cumming. You pulled one of your hands back and slapped her ass hard, a loud crack filling the room, followed by Jihyo’s moan. She bit her lip and began whining; her cock leaked precum onto her hand as she got ever closer. “I’m cumming; oh god, I’m cumming, she moaned. Her legs became weak, and she struggled to stand. You stood up and held Jihyo’s body up; your other hand went over her,s and you began to stroke her cock quickly. Jihyo’s whines only got louder as you pushed her over the edge and made her cum. You sit back on your couch, bringing Jihyo onto your lap as you continue to stroke her cock, milking more of her cum out of her.  

Jihyo turns her head slowly, pushing her lips outward for a kiss.  You grant her one, snaking your tongue into her mouth as you move your hands to her tits and squeeze them, enjoying their softness. You break the kiss quickly and grab Jihyo’s dirtied hand, bringing it up to her lips and forcing her to taste her cum.

Jihyo’s muffled moans continue as you play with her body. “Sir, hold on.” She groans, “Sir, do you like my body that much?” When you give her nod, she continues, “I’d be happy to quit my job and be your personal maid if you keep paying me as much as you have.” You consider her offer, running your fingers over her hard nipples as you think about it. “Master, please,” she whispers, rubbing her ass against your cock. 

It’s enough to make you agree, “Alright, you have a deal. Now why don’t you put those tits to good use.”

Jihyo smirks and climbs off your lap. She kneels between your legs and cups her tits, bringing them to your cock and surrounding it. Jihyo spits on her soft mounds and begins to rub your cock, spreading her saliva around her tits and your cock. “Is this good, Master?” 

“Yeah, real good,” You groan. You shut your eyes and enjoy the feeling of her tits moving up and down your shaft. You don’t react to Jihyo wrapping her lips around the tip when it pokes through her tits; you just enjoy the experience. Jihyo pumps your cock between her tits quickly. When you open your eyes again, you see her using her nipples against the tip of your cock. “I think that’s enough, Jihyo. I want you.” Jihyo rises and offers herself to you, climbing onto the couch and bending over the armrest. 

She shakes her ass for you, “Fuck me, Master,” she says in a sweet voice. You come up behind her and press the head of your cock against her puckered asshole and begin pushing. Jihyo groans as she feels your cock start to fill her guts. Inch by inch, you move inside her, stretching her tight asshole around your cock. You play with Jihyo’s tits, enjoying the large mounds while Jihyo strokes her cock. Her moans fill the room; Jihyo’s eyes roll into the back of her head as the pleasure overcomes her. Her entire body tingles as you begin to thrust. 

Jihyo’s walls cling to your cock, squeezing you roughly. Every thrust takes a lot of energy out of you but gives you more pleasure in return. You spank Jihyo roughly, every smack turning her ass a deeper shade of red. As you make her walls slick with her saliva, your thrusts become faster, and you drive your cock deep into Jihyo’s ass, making her cry out in pleasure as her incoming climax torments her.

Precum covers Jihyo’s hand as she strokes her cock; her whines become loud as she struggles with the immense pleasure. You pull on Jihyo’s nipples, mixing in some more pain. “I’m cumming, Master!” she cries, forcing her eyes shut as she feels the tension in her body explodes. Jihyo spurts cum into her hand again as she cums. You feel her wall tighten around your cock, making you grunt as you feel your orgasm coming. 

You continue thrusting and move your hand down to Jihyo’s cock, gripping it tightly before stroking it quickly. Jihyo grimaces as you overstimulate her. Your quick strokes bring Jihyo to another climax as you slam yourself deep inside her ass and fill her with your cum. You turn Jihyo’s head and kiss her, happy that you spent the money on her. “You’re going to live here now, Jihyo; I’m going to need you at all times.”

Jihyo smiles and nods at you, “Okay, Master.”