#i see you on the street and you look so tired....girl i know that job youve got leaves you so uninspired....when i come back. i'll take you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starlightkun · 5 months ago

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⏯ word count: 16.6k ⏯ warnings: general angst around not knowing what you’re doing with your life, the usual cursing ⏯ genre: fluff, suggestive/steamy but no actual smut, strangers to lovers, band au, punk drummer!sungchan, office worker!reader, not really badboy x good girl trope, more like sungchan has tattoos and reader is… a bit boring and hates her job. but she’s trying!, reader is having a quarter life crisis, ft. shotaro/eunseok/wonbin as sungchan’s bandmates, and nct dream 00 line as reader’s normal friends™ ⏯ author’s note: take a shot every time i say ‘tattoos’ in this fic, and you’ll die of alcohol poisoning! ⏯ sequel ⏯ now playing… quarter life – txt | NEED (ooo-eee) – løren | medicine – woz

“If you really want to do something brand new…” Sungchan took your receipt out of your hand, writing on the back of it with a pen that was on the counter. “Make this your thing for tomorrow.”

“You still haven’t told me what you do.”

“Live a little. And bring some friends, yeah? Don’t want you getting lonely in the mosh pit.”

“Y/N��s hit her quarter-life crisis,” Jaemin announced for you as the two of you joined your other friends at dinner.

You groaned and dropped your head in your hands, already regretting telling him your idea.

“24…” Renjun muttered to himself, then said louder, “Hey, life expectancy of 96, not bad.”

“So what is it?” Donghyuck grinned. “A tattoo? Nipple piercings? I can’t see any hair dye or choppy bangs done with kitchen scissors, so—”

“Don’t give her any ideas.” Jaemin shot him a disapproving look.

“So she doesn’t know what her quarter-life crisis is going to be yet? She’s… planning it out?” Jeno asked skeptically.

“No. She’s decided to do one spontaneous and/or new thing every day,” Jaemin explained your idea to the group.

“Oh. That’s not so bad.”

“So you’re in your manic pixie dream girl era… at 24,” Renjun nodded slowly.

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, sitting up straighter as you went to defend yourself. “It’s not a… thing. I’m just tired of feeling like my whole life is filler, okay?”

“Main character syndrome,” Donghyuck declared.

“No, I’m not going to expect the entire world to revolve around me and call random people in public NPCs,” you retorted. “I just want something different in my life, alright? You know I’ve never even gotten drunk?”

“24 is not the time to start,” Renjun stated disapprovingly.

“Exactly, we’re not 19. Can’t get blackout and snap back the next day anymore.” Jaemin shook his head.

Donghyuck looked a bit miffed at Jaemin’s advice. “Speak for yourself.”

“I’ve barely been tipsy,” you pointed out.

“So you’ve always had a prefrontal cortex, unlike us. Congrats,” Jeno shrugged. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing?”

“I’m the boring friend, aren’t I?”

“Boring isn’t bad!” Donghyuck tried to reassure you.

“So I am,” you huffed, dropping your cheek into your palm.

“You’re plenty of fun, Y/N,” Jaemin promised, rubbing your arm soothingly.

“If we didn’t like you, and didn’t have fun with you, we wouldn’t hang out with you,” Jeno pointed out, actually sort of making you feel a little better.

“I’m fun like rotting in bed all day is fun.” You knew you were just pouting now, but you were finding it hard to shake your sullen feeling.

“Exactly!” Donghyuck said brightly.

“Shut up!” Jaemin hissed at him, and you heard a sudden yelp as you imagined that Jaemin had kicked your other friend under the table.

“Y/N, do what you need to do.” Renjun leaned forward across the table. “We’re your friends, so here’s the obligatory: don’t die, don’t get maimed, and if you do something illegal, don’t get arrested.”

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you guys. I’m not even doing crazy things. Yesterday I walked home instead of taking the subway,” you informed them glumly.

“That’s new!” Jaemin cheered supportively, squeezing your shoulders.

“Yeah, whatever…”

Clutching your tote bag strap tighter to your body, you turned onto a street, trying to ignore the sun that was getting lower in the sky. Surely this way would lead towards your apartment. You’d lived in this city your whole life, you could walk from your work to your home, two places that you went to every single day.

There was a tall man outside one of the shops on this street, and you went to skirt around him on the sidewalk as he swept a few stray leaves and dirt out of a bookstore. Other than him, the street was fairly quiet, many of the stores having already closed up for the day.

“What are you doing?” The young man called out to you before you could fully pass him by.

You pivoted around on your heel, quickly looking around to see if there was anybody else that he could possibly be talking to. But it was definitely just you and him.

He looked about your age, wearing a cream pink long-sleeve button down presumably as part of the store uniform, though you weren’t sure if he really needed to have it buttoned all the way to the top button. It seemed a bit too warm out for that.

“Walking. Why?”

“This is the fourth time you’ve walked by here.” He did a sweeping point to the sidewalk in front of the shop, then leaned against the broom he had been cleaning with. “Wasn’t sure if you might have a particular destination in mind.”

“Fuck! I knew I was going in circles!”

“You’re lost.”

“Yeah, this isn’t my normal way home…”

“And your phone died?” He cocked his head curiously.

“No, I’m trying to get home without using my phone map,” you admitted, looking around for any familiar landmarks.

“Why? That’s what it’s for.”

“It’s… You’ll think it’s stupid. My friends did.”

He shrugged. “Probably. But why does that matter to you? I’m just some guy.”

“I’ve been doing something new every day. Just small things. But if I change enough little things, then everything will have changed.”

The guy was quiet for a beat, looking altogether unimpressed, then asked, “Where do you live?”

“Uh…”

“General area, see if I can give you directions from here.”

“Oh, uhm, if you can get me to the tea shop on Magnolia, I can get myself home from there.”

“Jade Gardens, I know it,” he nodded, then pointed left down the street, in the same direction that you had just come from. “That way, left onto North Oak, right onto Foxtail, another right onto Broad Street, it’ll eventually dead end into Magnolia, keep going until you see the tea shop.”

“Left onto North Oak, right onto Foxtail, right onto Broad,” you recited. “Got it, thank you!”

“Stay safe.” He waved you off, returning to sweeping without seeing if you had gone the way he’d pointed you.

It was Monday that you got lost and were given directions home by the questionably friendly but overall helpful bookstore worker, and the tea shop on Magnolia had been on your mind since. So on Thursday, you decided to stop by after work. You were running low on the green tea that you usually kept in stock at home, and thought that you might pick up something new for yourself.

Opening the door to Jade Gardens that Thursday, you were enveloped by the familiar aromatic smells wafting around the small shop. When you didn’t hear the usual kind voice of the owner, Mrs. Choi, greeting you, you peered around the aisle that you were in to look for her.

“Mrs. Choi?” You called out, also not hearing her TV show that she usually was watching behind the counter between helping customers. You were by the black teas anyway, so you didn’t mind wandering into the next aisle as you looked for any other sign of life in the shop.

“She’s not in,” a voice that was definitely not Mrs. Choi informed you right as you turned the corner into the beginning of the green teas. You could see enough of the man’s profile to recognize him as he stood by some of the shelves in the store. The worker from the bookstore. He was standing over an open cardboard box, a couple tins of tea in his hands.

“Uhm…” You trailed off, blinking at him as you weren’t sure exactly what to say. He placed the tins on the shelf.

“You think I’m stalking you, don’t you?” He said flatly, turning to show you the name badge on his longsleeve teal shirt. It was metallic gold, with the name SUNGCHAN engraved into it. “I work here too. For the past six months.”

“Oh, right.” You relaxed, flashing him a smile. As he went back to restocking and you went back to looking at the tea on the shelves that he wasn’t currently stocking, you commented lightly, “I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I work Tuesdays and Thursdays. You ever been here on a Tuesday or a Thursday?”

“No. I always come on Sundays.”

“There you go.” He had emptied the box of product he was restocking from, and carried it into the back. When he reemerged, he stopped behind the register, but engaged you in conversation again, “So is this your new thing for today? Coming on a Thursday instead of Sunday?”

“Yeah.”

“And? Is your whole life different yet?”

“I’ve only been doing this for two weeks…” You replied defensively, looking over at him from the two kinds of green tea that you were debating between.

“Have you done anything new yet?” Sungchan asked, arching an eyebrow.

“That’s the whole point—”

“From what I know, as some guy who doesn’t even know your name, is that you have walked home from work without using the maps on your phone—something you would have done anyway—and gone to a shop that you go to regularly, just on a different day of the week. Have you done anything that you’ve never done before at all?”

“My name is Y/N, by the way.” You bit the inside of your cheek, and grabbed your tea selection. “Ordering a drink I’ve never tried at my usual boba place doesn’t count, does it?”

“You already know the answer, Y/N.”

“The point isn’t to quit my job and travel the world and completely overhaul my life—”

“I thought it was to change everything?”

“If I change enough little things, then—”

“—everything will have changed.” “—everything will have changed.” The two of you finished at the same time, Sungchan putting more emphasis on ‘everything,’ a pointed look on his face.

“I just don’t get how everything is supposed to change by you coming to a tea shop on a different day one time, but still working the same job you hate,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“How do you know I hate my job?!” You retorted, bringing your selections up to the counter.

“If you loved it, you wouldn’t be in a crisis about changing your whole life.”

“Do you like your two jobs?”

“They’re fine.” He shrugged, ringing up your purchases.

You handed him your card. “Fine?”

“They’re just my day jobs.”

“And what’s your night job then?”

A smirk grew on his face as he bagged your tins of tea. “Nah.”

“‘Nah?’” You repeated incredulously.

“You’re not doing anything new. No point telling you.”

“If it’s stand-up, I don’t want to know,” you snorted.

“It’s not stand-up.”

“Mm, I don’t know, you’re giving me real stand-up energy right now,” you snipped, gesturing to his entire demeanor. “I’m really glad you haven’t told me, actually, because I can’t control my face when I’m told bad jokes.”

“I don’t do stand-up comedy,” he reiterated with the same calm, self-assured tone, handing you your bag of tea and receipt.

“Considering you’re refusing to tell me, I’m convinced it’s like, open mic nights. Tight fives, not even a full—”

“Not stand-up,” he said again. “But considering how badly you’re begging me to tell you—”

“Pretty sure you’re the one desperately trying to convince me you don’t do stand-up, but—”

“If you really want to do something brand new…” He took your receipt out of your hand, writing on the back of it with a pen that was on the counter. “Make this your thing for tomorrow.”

You accepted the receipt when he held it back out to you. “You still haven’t told me what you do.”

“Live a little. And bring some friends, yeah? Don’t want you getting lonely in the mosh pit.”

Your eyes scanned the address and time he had scrawled on your receipt. “Mosh pit?”

“We’re going to fucking die,” Donghyuck declared from beside you as soon as your group of friends entered the basement of the building that Sungchan had given you the address to. It was already packed with people, dark, and loud.

“Nobody drink anything!” Jaemin hissed, clutching onto your other arm. “Especially Y/N! Getting drunk is one thing, I don’t want getting roofied to be on your bucket list.”

“It’s not, Jaem,” you retorted. “Trust me.”

“Why the fuck are we here again?” Renjun yelled from behind you over the din of the crowd.

“Y/N met some hot guy—Ow!” Donghyuck had gotten cut off by you stomping on his foot.

“Sorry, it’s so crowded in here!” You glared at him. “I didn’t say anything about what he looked like. I needed something new to do for today, this seemed as good an option as any.”

“Okay, well, what the hell is this? Basement party?” Jeno asked, next to Renjun.

“I think it’s a concert?” You couldn’t see anything over the heads of the other people. “He said something about a mosh pit…”

They all exchanged a look.

“We’re going to fucking die,” Donghyuck repeated.

A roaring started up in the crowd, and you looked around in bewilderment to see what had gotten them all excited. In the far corner of the basement, it looked like a band was getting set up to play, two guitarists, a bassist, but it was the drummer that made you do a double take. You couldn’t be quite sure from the distance, the poor lighting, and the fact that the tank top he was wearing exposed two sleeves of tattoos along rather defined arms that you had never previously seen unclothed, but… that might just be Sungchan.

“We need to get closer,” you declared to your friends, yanking Jaemin along with you.

“What?!” Renjun yelped, following you nevertheless.

“Did you forget the part where he apparently said mosh pit?” Donghyuck scrambled after you.

“At least let Jeno be our human shield!” Jaemin pleaded with you.

“Thanks for volunteering me, Jaemin,” Jeno snorted, but willingly took the role, stepping in front of you to clear a path a bit easier than you had been doing on your own.

The five of you stuck out a bit, you noticed. You hadn’t exactly been given a dress code, nor a description of what to expect, so you did unfortunately stick out like a sore thumb among all the black, leather, and more black. It wasn’t that you were wearing a rainbow so much as you were clearly wearing something… uptight in comparison. Corporate. All you had was work clothes, and stuff to go to work dinners in. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out to something even remotely like this. You’d done your best to dress down without wearing pajamas, but it was obvious that you were out of place.

Finally, you got close enough to the band to be able to make out the drummer’s face. He was looking down, making a final adjustment to his instrument, and when he looked back up, he pushed some of his hair out of his eyes. Definitely Sungchan. So this was his night job. Drummer. For just a second, his gaze flicked over the crowd, and you couldn’t be absolutely sure—after all, it was packed in there—but you swore he saw you for a second, surprise on his features for a moment before a cocky smirk overtook it.

One of the guitarists said something, they all had mics, you were pretty sure he was introducing the band or something, but this close to the speakers, all you could do was feel the words in your chest, not hear them with your ears. And when the music actually started, you felt like it was rearranging your brain matter. The crowd didn’t seem to really know the songs, as nobody sang along, but they were having fun nonetheless, dancing, jumping, and headbanging. As you got on your tiptoes to keep peering over Jeno’s shoulder at Sungchan, you found yourself bouncing along to the beat. Someone must have bumped into Renjun, as he stumbled into your back, and you let out a squeak and latched onto Jeno’s shoulders to avoid losing your balance.

“What is going on back there?” Jeno turned around.

You looked back at Renjun as well, who was now squeezing himself in between you and Donghyuck. Just behind and to the side of you, closer to the middle of the crowd, something was going on. Everyone was moving around a lot more, and… shoving each other?

“Mosh pit,” Renjun shook his head.

You kept your grip on Jeno’s shoulders, using them as leverage to stay on your tiptoes as you watched the performance. They had a lot of passion, you couldn’t deny that. You thought that maybe if you could actually parse out more of the melody and words being sung, you might even like their music.

Then it was over after what felt like less than a handful of songs. One of the guitarists seemed to thank the crowd briefly as Sungchan sat and spun one of his drumsticks mindlessly. And then they were done. The guitarists and bassist took their instruments with them as they disappeared into an adjoining room, and Sungchan stood up and took his sticks.

“They’re done, are we done?” Renjun requested.

“Sure, sure,” you agreed, having satiated your curiosity.

Back on the street, everyone let out a simultaneous breath of relief. Your lungs were happy to be inhaling fresh air again, and the sounds of the city streets at night felt quiet in comparison to that basement.

“My ears are ringing,” Jaemin groaned.

“Mine are bleeding,” Donghyuck scoffed.

“They weren’t that bad, Hyuck,” you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, which one was he?” He pointed an accusing finger at you. “Bookstore-slash-tea shop guy. Which one was he?”

“What?”

“He was in the band, wasn’t he? That’s why he invited you, that’s why you’re not agreeing with me right now. No way you actually liked that noise. So? Which one?”

“You’re annoying.”

“Bet he was the bassist,” Renjun took a crack at guessing. “Totally your type, Y/N.”

“I think it was the frontman, he would’ve been the only one shameless enough to beg for girls to come to their shows,” Jaemin retorted.

“Definitely not the drummer, did you see those tattoos? Our Y/N wouldn’t have gone to some random address that a guy like that gave her,” Jeno snickered.

“I’m not prejudiced, assholes,” you replied, a bit miffed when Jaemin and Renjun nodded their heads in agreement at Jeno’s assessment.

Jaemin gently reassured you, “No, of course not. You just… stick to what you know.”

“Says the four guys who were begging to leave. I thought I was supposed to be the boring friend?”

“There’s a difference between being fun and patently stupid,” Renjun snorted. “Going to a random address that some weird guy gives you falls into the second category.”

“I think it was the drummer,” Donghyuck announced, narrowing his eyes at you. “He invited you, didn’t he, Y/N?”

You poked your tongue against the inside of your cheek. “He was wearing longsleeves…”

“Knew it,” he grinned victoriously. “The other guitarist was blonde. Blondes aren’t your type.”

“So I’m predictable even when I’m trying to be unpredictable?” You groaned.

“Uh-huh.”

“We’re still getting food, right?” Jeno asked hopefully.

“Hell yeah,” Donghyuck threw an arm around your neck and shook you around. “On Y/N!”

You elbowed him in the side. “Yes to food, fuck no I’m not paying for you again Hyuck. Freeload off someone else.”

“It’s not freeloading, it’s compensation, for the damage that your boyfriend’s shitty band did to my eardrums.”

“I don’t even know him, you dick.” You shoved him off you this time, inadvertently directly into Renjun, who complained loudly at being collateral damage. “Sorry, Renjun.”

“Push him off a bridge next time, not into me,” he scoffed, straightening his clothes.

“You’ve got to stop letting him rile you up, Y/N,” Jaemin advised you, looping his arm with yours.

“Says the man who was literally threatening to run him over two days ago.”

On Monday, you walked down the street with a particular destination in mind this time. You pushed the door to the bookstore open, making the bell above it ring lightly. The inside smelled like old books and pine.

“Sorry, we’re actually about to…” Sungchan trailed off when he looked up from the register and spotted you.

“Are you closing? I can go,” you offered, already sheepishly backing up towards the exit again.

“No, you can stay. Just turn the closed sign around and flip the lock for me, will you?” He gestured to the door.

You did so, and took a few hesitant steps further into the shop as he went back to closing out the register. You were admittedly staring at him a little, trying to line up the visage of the tattooed drummer you’d seen at the show with the man in a cream pink button-up in front of you, no visible body art in sight. His hair was nicely parted and styled to show some of his forehead; he could even blend in at your office.

“Wasn’t expecting you to actually show up,” Sungchan said, pushing the drawer of the register closed.

You rolled your eyes. “Do I really seem like that much of a drag?”

“You’re wearing a pantsuit.”

“It’s a blazer and slacks! That’s not—” You looked down at your own clothes, cutting yourself off with a huff. “Point taken. From the man wearing a pink button-up.”

“Uniform.” He indicated to the shop around him generally. “I’d wear the short-sleeve option, but I have to look… how’d Mr. Kang put it? Respectable.”

“Mm, of course. I almost didn’t recognize you without the sleeves and with the… sleeves,” you finished awkwardly, trying not to picture his biceps right in that moment.

He chuckled, sitting down on a stool behind the counter. “So who was the guy?”

It took you a second to follow his leap in conversation, and even then, you didn’t quite stick the landing, only able to explain, “The guys were my friends. You told me to bring some, if you’ll recall.”

“I meant the one that you were hanging onto the whole time.”

“I didn’t realize you were watching me the whole time,” you teased, tilting your head.

“You picked a spot right in front of me. Couldn’t help but notice.”

“Jeno is my friend, as I just said. He’s sturdy, I was trying not to fall over.”

Sungchan looked at his phone. “Have you done your new thing for today?”

“By your standards? No.”

He stood up, grabbing a backpack from the ground to sling over his shoulder and jerked his head towards a narrow hallway behind him. “Come on.”

With the voice of Jaemin nagging you in the back of your mind, you followed him. At the end of the hallway was the back door of the bookstore, which led you into the alleyway between rows of shops. Sungchan locked up behind you, then dropped his bag at his feet and opened it.

“Where are we going?” You questioned.

“Food. You haven’t had dinner, have you?” He replied, starting to unbutton his shirt from the collar.

You failed to come up with an answer as he untucked it and slipped one arm out. “What are you doing?”

“Changing my shirt.” He stared back at you, the button up hanging off of one arm. You could see now that the tattoos extended onto his pecs as well. “Turn around if you want.”

Feeling like you were losing some kind of challenge, you turned your back to him, continuing your previous conversation instead. “No, I haven’t eaten.”

“Neither have I.” The zipper on the bag opened.

“But what if I’ve been to the place before?”

“I don’t think you have.” Zipped back up.

“If you told me the name—”

“Ready,” Sungchan declared, stepping up next to you. He was now in a dark shirt that had the logo of what you were sure was another band on it, and a worn leather jacket with an assortment of patches. He ran his fingers through his hair, intentionally shaking it out of the nice style from before and into a more natural, messy state. He took off down the alley, leaving you to follow after him.

“You’re not going to tell me the name of the place we’re going, are you?” You sighed.

“No.”

“What if I have allergies?”

“Do you?”

“…No.”

Sungchan turned down another street. “You left early. You missed the other bands.”

“Didn’t know there were other bands, and my friends were hungry.” You shrugged, opting not to tell him that your friends hated his music and had been begging you to leave. And that you didn’t put up a fight about going.

“Leaving after four songs to get food. Your friends sound lame.”

“They’re fun,” you immediately went to defend them. “I’m the boring one out of us. They’ve at least actually gotten drunk.”

The two of you had reached a crosswalk with the stop hand lit up. You stopped and pressed the button to wait for it to change. Sungchan paused just long enough to look both ways, then took your elbow in a loose grip and pulled you into the empty crosswalk.

“Let’s go.”

“What are you—”

“There’s nobody coming.” His hand slid down your arm to grab your hand as he walked backwards in front of you, gesturing widely with his other arm. “See? Not the end of the world.”

“I’m going to laugh if you trip over the curb behind you,” you informed him mildly, already eyeing the approaching sidewalk.

“If I fall, I’m taking you down with me.” He grinned.

“And you’ll break my fall.”

“Like in every good rom-com.”

“Are we making bets on if you’ll have a first- or second-degree concussion from hitting your head on the pavement?”

Sungchan turned around then, just in time to step up onto the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. He smiled down at you smugly, and you made a small ‘hmph’ sound in the back of your throat. You noted that he didn’t let go of your hand as you kept walking. You didn’t shake him off.

“How far away is this place?” You checked the time on your phone. “I have work in the morning.”

“Not too far. I can’t be out late either. I have practice tonight.”

“You called the bookstore and the tea shop your day jobs, and the band is your night job…”

“Uh-huh.”

“We didn’t have to pay a cover or anything to get in on Friday. How much does your night job actually pay?”

“That one was for fun. And a twelve-pack,” he answered nonchalantly. “Where we are now, a gig is a gig.”

“They paid you in beer and exposure?” You summarized dryly.

“It was just a friend’s basement, not a real concert venue or anything.”

“Oh, underground. Literally.”

He snorted. “You’re hilarious.”

“I try.”

“Maybe you should do stand-up.”

“No thanks, my day job is paying me just fine.”

He clicked his tongue. “And yet you hate it.”

“Your words, not mine.”

“You’ve yet to tell me otherwise.”

You sighed, but unfortunately, you couldn’t outright disagree with him. The two of you turned onto another street, where you bumped up into the back of a line for a food truck. Sungchan stopped you there, letting go of your hand to reach into his jacket and pull out his wallet.

“You got cash on you?” He asked, flicking through the bills in his wallet.

“No, do I need some?” You only had your phone and your credit cards.

“They’re cash only,” he nodded towards the food truck. “It’s fine, I’ll pay.”

“Sungchan, you don’t have to,” you insisted. “We can just eat somewhere else.”

“My idea, you didn’t know, I’ll pay.” He shook his head. The line moved up then, and he urged you forward with a hand on the small of your back. “Unless you think I’m broke because I don’t have some office job that I hate like you.”

“I didn’t say that! But you did just tell me you recently got paid in beer and exposure.”

“And have two other jobs,” he reminded you.

You didn’t outright accept his offer, but didn’t argue anymore. Getting on your tiptoes, you tried to look for a menu over the other customers in line.

“What do they even have?”

“Changes every week. We’ll find out when we order.”

“What if you don’t like what they’re selling this week?”

“What do I keep telling you? Live a little.”

“Fine.” You dropped back down to flat feet with a sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “How do you know about this place?”

“Couple of my friends run it, when they’re not playing.”

“They’re in a band too?”

“Uh-huh. That’s why it’s only open once a week. They’re performing or rehearsing every other day.” The line moved up again.

“Why have a food truck then? Food trucks run on narrow margins, they can’t be making enough money to cover their living expenses if they only do it once a week.”

“It’s not their day job. Music is.” He pointed to a piece of paper that was taped onto the side of the truck, the handwriting so faded you could barely make it out. Sungchan told you what it said anyway, “All the profits go to a local women’s shelter. And a lot of their ingredients and other stuff is donations, makes the margins a little less narrow.”

When you looked up at him curiously, he simply added, “The most punk thing you can do is help people.”

The two of you were finally at the front of the line, and a man’s head popped into view at the window. With the t-shirt he had on, you could see the tattoos that seemed to cover every inch of skin from his knuckles to his neck, the ink looking well-settled. He had gauges in his ears, the jewelry a bright rainbow of colors, and you couldn’t even count how many other piercings he had in addition to those. He seemed older than yourself and Sungchan, maybe late thirties or even early forties if you had to guess, a few specks of grey peppering his stubble.

He flashed Sungchan a bright smile as soon as he recognized him, deep crow’s feet around his eyes. “Hey, Sungchan! How are you? Sorry we missed your set Friday, SooSoo was up all night with a fever.”

“Don’t worry about it. Is she feeling better?” Sungchan asked.

“Yep, fever finally broke at like three in the morning Saturday, back to her normal self by Sunday.”

“Good to hear.”

“Anyway, let’s get you some food. I’m sure you didn’t bring your girl all the way out here to hear about my sick baby,” the older man chuckled.

Sungchan just laughed along and put in your orders. When the man turned around to help the other worker, a woman, prepare the food, you looked up at him suspiciously.

“Hm?” He had apparently noticed your look. “Oh, sorry, he was talking about his daughter, Yeonsoo. She’s… oh probably six months old now? Real cute.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Here you go.” The man was back at the window, two paper baskets of food in hand.

Sungchan went to grab a few bills out of his wallet. “How much?”

“On the house.”

“Jay, come on. Seriously, man, how much?”

“I’m serious, no charge tonight.” Jay shook his head. “You’ve never brought a date. So say thank you, don’t keep her waiting, and stop holding up my line.”

Sungchan sighed, stuffing the bills he had already grabbed into the tip jar that was on the counter and taking the food. “Thanks, man.”

“Goodnight, you two!” Jay sent you off with a jovial wave. Before you got too far, you could’ve sworn you heard a woman’s voice ask from inside the truck, “Did you say Sungchan had a date with him?”

The drummer handed you a basket of food as you started a meandering pace down the sidewalk. You took a bite to avoid talking about what just happened, despite the fact that it was very much the only thing you were thinking about.

“Oh, that’s really good,” you said, unable to contain your tone of pleasant surprise.

“I wasn’t going to take you somewhere shit for your new thing,” he replied.

“So if I told you that I had already completed my new thing for today, we would’ve gone somewhere with bad food?”

“Well, no, because I wouldn’t have believed you.”

“Oh, of course,” you scoffed.

“You probably would’ve counted going to see me at the bookstore as your something new, right?”

“I’ve never done that before. I don’t know how that doesn’t count.”

“You have talked to me at the bookstore before. When I gave you directions.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t on purpose. And I didn’t go into the store, and it wasn’t like, a real conversation.”

“Still doesn’t count.”

“And who assigned you to decide if something counts or not? This is my thing.”

“You’re the one listening to me. I’m just some guy, remember? You could’ve told me to fuck off at any point.” He took a big bite of his food, wiping at the stray crumbs around his mouth with the back of his hand. “So either you’re really easy to peer pressure—which I doubt, considering you’ve never even gotten drunk—or you actually kind of agree with me.”

You were silent, scowling down at your rather delicious food.

“Which is it? Want me to fuck off or am I maybe kinda right?”

“Why do you even care?” You questioned in lieu of an answer. “I’m just someone who you gave directions to one time. Why do you care if I actually change my whole life with my stupid little plan?”

“Who said I care?”

“Then what is all this?”

“I’m not trying to be your life coach, Y/N.” Sungchan shrugged, then his features split into a grin. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to be along for the ride.”

You stared down at your feet as you thought about it, about how different Sungchan’s life was from yours just from the brief glimpses you’d gotten of it. Looking back up at him, you nodded. “I could probably use some help brainstorming new things…”

“Deal.”

“Hell no.”

Sungchan grabbed your arm before you could turn and walk away from him completely. When he’d texted you the address to meet at, you thought that surely the online maps listing hadn’t been updated recently, and it was actually a restaurant or concert venue, or any other litany of things. But no, you were in fact standing in front of a tattoo shop with Sungchan, as your something new for today.

“Not for you, not for you,” he quickly reassured you. “I’m getting a new one. Have you ever been in a tattoo shop?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, looking at the darkened windows apprehensively. “No…”

“I promise you’ll make it out alive,” he teased, to which you shot him an unamused glare. “Let’s go.”

Inside was surprisingly quiet. Rock music played over the speakers at a low volume, and there was already one artist set up with a client, the tattoo gun buzzing as she worked on a large piece on their calf. But really, you’d been in libraries that were louder. Sungchan guided you over to the front desk with a hand on your back, the man behind it already standing up to greet him.

“Sungchan, hey!” The guy beamed, reaching out to shake Sungchan’s free hand. He was younger, around your age, maybe a few years older, with a patchwork sleeve of dozens of colorful, bold tattoos along his arms.

“Hey, Johnny,” Sungchan shook his hand. “How are you?”

“Just got back from doing guest slots out of town, so I’m happy to get back in the groove of my usual shop.” Johnny’s twinkling eyes then focused on you. “And who’s this?”

“This is Y/N.” Sungchan seemed to smoothly sidestep mentioning who you were in relation to him. “You don’t mind if she hangs out during my appointment, right? One guest?”

“Not at all.” The artist then picked up a tablet from the counter. “Let me show you what I’ve got drawn up, hm?”

You peered around Sungchan curiously as they went over the design. It was a black and grey circle of flowers, leaves, thorns, and branches all interwoven together. A few birds hovered along the outside of it. In the corner of the canvas that the sketch was on, you could see the reference photos that Johnny had used, of an old porcelain plate that looked like it belonged in your grandmother’s china cabinet, not on a punk drummer's skin.

“It’s great, man. You nailed it,” Sungchan gave his approval.

“And for placement, you said your back, right?”

“Yeah, I was thinking left shoulder blade?” He shook off his jacket, grabbed the collar of his tank top and took it off in one go. Both him and Johnny moved around so Sungchan could see his own back in the full-length mirror propped up on a nearby wall.

“If you fill up the rest of your back in the future, you’ll have an odd hole in the middle of that shoulder from the center of this tattoo,” Johnny pointed out, tracing where the gap would be on Sungchan’s otherwise bare skin with his tablet stylus. “Unless you were to add something in the middle of this design later on. Depending on the size we do now, that might be difficult.”

“That’s a couple options. What else you think? Upper middle?”

“Yeah, centering it will look good, whether or not you fill the rest of your back, and even if you leave the middle of the ring empty,” Johnny agreed.

“Center it is then.”

“How big are you thinking?” Johnny held his hands up parallel to each other at the top of Sungchan’s spine. “This? A little bigger? I wouldn’t go any smaller or you’ll lose detail.”

“Bigger.”

Johnny moved his bottom hand down. “Hm?”

“Yeah, about that much?”

“I’ll print a couple sizes and we’ll see how it looks.”

As Johnny sat back at the desk to print out the stencils, you walked over to Sungchan, keeping your eyes on his face.

“Whose plate is that?” You asked curiously.

“How do you know I didn’t just find it on the internet and like the design?” He tilted his head.

“The cottagecore vibes really don’t match the rest of your work.”

He looked down at his own forearms and laughed. “Okay, fair. It’s my grandmother’s.”

“Hm.” You couldn’t help but smile fondly at the idea.

Johnny returned then with a couple different stencil sizes, and he and Sungchan went back to the mirror. After determining the size of the design, the area was prepped, and the stencil applied. You watched with interest as the design was transferred from the paper to Sungchan’s skin in purple ink.

“Go check that in the mirror,” Johnny instructed.

Sungchan stood back up from where he had laid down for the application, using a second mirror in his hand to look at it closer. He motioned with his head for you to join him. “What do you think? Is it centered?”

You got up from the stool that you had been given to walk over to the mirror as well, standing behind Sungchan to evaluate the placement of the stencil. “Stand up straight. And straighten out your shoulders, you know you slouch?”

Johnny snickered from his seat.

Squinting one eye closed, then the other, you finally gave a short nod. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“That’s the best you can hope for with her, Johnny,” Sungchan joked, returning to the padded table to lay down. “‘Fine.’”

You rolled your eyes, but took your seat on the side opposite from the tattoo artist anyway.

“High praise. Let’s do it,” Johnny grinned.

As Johnny got to work, you watched the first few strokes of his tattoo gun with interest, as the ink was deposited into Sungchan’s skin.

“You have any tattoos, Y/N?” Johnny asked, not looking up from his work.

“No,” you replied. Looking at Sungchan’s face next, which was mostly concealed by his arms and the pillow, he didn’t have any outward expression of pain. “Does it… hurt?”

The both of them chuckled, and you tried not to feel patronized, then Sungchan answered, “You ever been scratched by a cat?”

“Yeah…”

“It’s like that, but worse, and continuously.”

“Doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“It’s worse if you’re by bone,” Johnny added. “Or other sensitive areas.”

“Again, doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“An hour or so of unpleasantness in exchange for a lifetime of a cool tattoo,” Sungchan said in a tone of voice that made you think he would’ve shrugged if it weren’t for the tattoo gun currently on his upper back. “Easy trade-off if you ask me.”

“So how did you two meet?” Johnny’s voice didn’t carry any judgment, if anything he almost sounded amused.

“She came by the bookshop,” Sungchan answered simply. “You know, one of my day jobs.”

“Now that makes sense. No offense, Y/N, but you seem much more like a bookstore and coffee shops kind of girl than a basement mosh pit regular.”

You nodded slowly. “None taken… What you see is what you get with me.”

“Oh, she’s been trying new things,” Sungchan chuckled. “She’s been to a show.”

“And? What’d you think?” Johnny looked up at you eagerly.

You were a bit caught off-guard. Sungchan hadn’t even asked you if you liked his band’s performance. He’d commented on the fact that you’d showed up, who you were with, and that you left without seeing the other bands perform. But he never asked if you liked it.

“It was different for me,” you admitted. “Good different. I had fun.”

“Yeah, they’ve got a lot of heart, don’t they?” You could see the tug of Johnny’s smile at the corner of his mouth.

At the end of the appointment, Sungchan had one new tattoo and you were hungry. After paying Johnny and giving the artist your goodbyes, the two of you stepped back out onto the sidewalk in front of the tattoo parlor. It was dark out already, and you looked up at the moon, just past the streetlamp shining down on you.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Sungchan declared. “Dinner?”

“Sure,” you agreed. “But, I pick. I’ve already done my one new thing for today, and I’m craving fries.”

“Hard to argue with that.”

The place you had in mind was only a few blocks away from Johnny’s tattoo shop. As soon as you walked in, however, you wanted to turn back around. But you were craving fries and had already been spotted. Jeno perked up curiously from behind the counter, giving you a friendly wave. Honestly, you should’ve considered this as a possibility when you brought Sungchan into his place of work. You smiled back as you stepped up to the register.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted you brightly, clearly interested in who you had with you, but not outright asking as his gaze strayed over to Sungchan.

“Hey, Jeno,” you said. “I didn’t realize you were working tonight.”

“Coworker got sick, I picked up a shift,” he explained. “So what can I get you? Your usual?”

“Just the fries and milkshake.” You then pointed to Sungchan with your thumb. “And whatever he wants. I’m paying.”

“Y/N—” Sungchan was clearly about to argue.

“You got it last time. Kind of.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “And they take card here. So order.”

He held his hands up. “Alright, alright.”

Picking a table in the corner as far from the cash register as you could get, you waited for Jeno to call your order number out as usual. Except this time he brought the food right out to your table on a tray. You eyed him suspiciously as he walked over.

“Here’s your food,” he smiled brightly at the both of you, taking the food off the tray to set the individual items in front of you.

“Right, thanks, Jeno,” you said. When he was still standing there after he was done, you looked at him more pointedly, “I’m not tipping you again if that’s what you’re waiting for. Goodbye, Jeno.”

“Enjoy your meal!” He took off back behind the counter.

Sungchan watched him for a moment before turning back to his food. “He was at the show.”

“Yeah, he was.”

“Your sturdy friend.”

“Yup.” You grabbed your first fry.

“The show, that reminds me—” Sungchan stopped in the middle of his sentence, sandwich halfway up to his mouth. “Uh, I think your friend just took a picture of us.”

Your phone buzzed then, and you checked the notification from your lockscreen, letting out a deep sigh. “He definitely did.”

[jeno: attached image]

[jeno: ⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️]

“Hold on, sorry,” you apologized as you unlocked your phone to properly open the message.

As soon as you started typing a scathing text about privacy, another text came through.

[jeno: FUCK WRONG GROUP CHAT]

[you: wtf do you assholes have a gc without me in it??]

You looked over at the register, shooting Jeno a glare as he was very obviously trying not to look at you. His entire face, ears, and neck were visibly pink from the other side of the restaurant.

[jeno: it was to plan your surprise party last year!]

[jaem: Y/N ON A DATE CONFIRMED???????]

[renjunnie: jeno you’re an idiot]

[hyuck: wait jeno take another picture of his face im trying to see smth]

A large group of teenagers entered then, and Jeno had to quickly put his phone away to take their orders.

Sungchan had been quietly eating his food the whole time, and raised an eyebrow as you put your phone down with a groan. “Everything alright?”

“Sorry about that…” You let out another sigh. “So what you were saying? The show?”

“Oh, I’m glad you liked the set.” He looked almost self-conscious as he spoke, a small smile on his face as he ran a hand through his hair. “You hadn’t said anything about whether or not you actually liked the show, so I figured it might not have been your thing, you know? Or, you at least told Johnny you liked it…”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Didn’t want to seem like I was fishing for compliments.”

“I had fun,” you assured him, grabbing another fry. “I’m still surprised you could even see me. It was packed in there.”

“You were easy to spot,” he teased.

“You didn’t exactly give me a dress code.”

“If I did, would you have been able to dress for it?”

You pursed your lips as you thought for a moment, then relented, “…No.”

He shrugged off his jacket and offered you the garment. “Here, so you’ll blend in better next time.”

You accepted it, already giddy at the idea of a ‘next time.’ “Then how will you spot me?”

“I think I’ll manage.”

[jeno: attached image]

[jeno: no need to see his face, hyuck. its definitely the drummer from the basement]

[hyuck: fuckin knew it]

[jaem: are we SURE those are the same tattoos?? maybe y/n knows another guy with sleeves???]

[renjunnie: still the same gc, dumbasses]

[you: jeno don’t be a weirdo challenge FAILED]

[jeno: definitely the same guy, jaemin]

[you: im gonna get you fired lee jeno]

[jeno: my rent :( ]

[hyuck: y/n out here trying to SILENCE independent investigative journalists and whistleblowers i see 🫵]

[you: OR i was trying to eat in peace and meanwhile you guys are having your weekly ‘being the most obnoxious guy ever’ competition and somehow jeno is winning this time]

[jeno: :(( ]

[jaem: you were on a DATE with drummer guy and didnt tell us???]

[you: omfg because it wasn’t a date? im allowed to hang out with people who aren’t you four]

[jaem: no youre not?]

[hyuck: since when?]

[renjunnie: and since when do you know people who aren’t us lmao]

[you: im gonna block all of you]

[jeno: :'( ]

Thursday night and you were back in the basement. This time you didn’t bring any of your friends, not wanting to subject them to an experience that they clearly hadn’t enjoyed last time, and also to save yourself from having to explain why exactly you were back in the basement again and wearing Sungchan’s leather jacket. Due to the oppressive body heat around you, you just had it draped over your shoulders, but made sure to grab either side and hold it tight to not lose it as you maneuvered through the crowd. You unfortunately barely had time to run home and grab the jacket on your way here, as your boss kept your whole team late after hours today working on an urgent deadline. You were still wearing your work clothes; you didn’t trust yourself to change quickly without freaking out over what to wear and ending up missing Sungchan’s short set.

Just as you had wormed your way into a good enough spot towards the front and near the drumset, the band walked out from the adjoining room, waving to everyone. It was easy to spot Sungchan, not only because he was the tallest, but because he wasn’t even wearing a shirt this time, as opposed to the others, who were all wearing a tank top or t-shirt of some sort. His gaze was very clearly searching the crowd for something, and stopped as soon as it landed on you. You gave him a small wave, and he smiled back as he headed to his spot.

You weren’t sure if they had set up the speakers differently this time, if your ears were just used to the volume now, or if you were positioned better than before, but you could actually understand what the frontman was saying as he introduced the band.

“Hey! How is everyone?” His voice was cheerful, and you couldn’t help but laugh as the crowd cheered back. “First, uh, big thanks as always to our buddy Anton for having us. Second, if you don’t know us, that’s fine, nobody does.”

Everyone let out a unanimous round of chuckles, and the frontman was smiling too.

“Anyway, we are Roses for Eyes. I’m Shotaro, that’s Wonbin—” He pointed to the other guitarist, then the bassist, “—That’s Eunseok over there—” and finally Sungchan, “—And we’ve got Sungchan on the drums. And we’re supposed to be performing for you guys, not reading you our non-existent Wikipedia page. Here’s the first one, ‘Lonely as Mars,’ hope you all like it.”

From the first kick of the bass drum, you couldn’t take your eyes off Sungchan. The music reverberated through your chest, and this time you could hear their voices, and the words they were singing. They were good, you decided, and you liked it. But your focus never left the drummer. He had the same relaxed, easy-going smirk on his face as the last time he played, arms flexing with each hit of his sticks.

The set simultaneously felt like ten years and ten seconds. It was a blur, and before you knew it, Shotaro was once again speaking into the mic to give the crowd another thank you and goodnight. He, Eunseok, and Wonbin took their instruments with them. Sungchan tucked his drumsticks into the back pocket of his jeans as he stood up and followed his bandmates. With no friends urging you to leave, and what certainly seemed like an infinitely long list of reasons to stick around, you stayed put exactly where you were. Exactly where Sungchan knew you were.

The next band had just come out when you felt a hand grab your arm. Turning around, you knew who exactly that hand would belong to. Sungchan had found a shirt somewhere between performing and now, a tank top that didn’t cover much more than before. And despite him having just been performing a few moments ago, nobody in the crowd seemed to notice him, all their focus on the next act.

“You did good!” You had to shout over the music of the band currently performing.

He bent down to talk right into your ear. “It’s loud over here.”

You let him guide you to a corner further back from the crowd with an arm around your shoulders. There were a few other people back there, either smoking, making out, or both. You rested your back against the wall, looking up at Sungchan, who leaned over you with his hand on the wall next to your head. You opened your mouth, about to repeat what you had said out on the floor.

“Fuck, you look so hot in my jacket,” Sungchan groaned, sufficiently wiping all previous trains of thought from your brain. His fingers messed with the zipper teeth of one side, eyes scanning your whole frame.

“I feel a bit silly wearing it with the pantsuit, but I got hung up at work and didn’t want to be late…” You trailed off, noticing that his gaze was definitely now on your mouth. Tilting your head, you asked teasingly, “Sungchan, are you flirting with me?”

“Have been for like three weeks now, thanks for noticing.”

“Unfortunately, we can’t count this as my something new. I’ve been to one of your sets before, at this exact basement,” you sighed wistfully, latching onto his free arm and pulling him even closer to you.

“Mm, good point.” His hand grabbed your waist. “I think we can come up with something to do tonight that you haven’t done before.”

“I think I’ve got one.”

“Oh, here I thought I was the ideas guy?”

You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling his mouth down to yours. Sungchan let out another low sound against your lips, grip on your waist tightening as he pushed you back into the wall as hard as you were pulling him down with you. He dropped from leaning on his hand to his forearm, caging you in closer. Your hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair was shamelessly feeling up the muscles of his arm and shoulder. When he softly sank his teeth into your bottom lip, you couldn’t help but dig your fingernails into his tricep in surprise, pushing your hips up against his insistently.

“Fuck, Sungchan,” you panted against his mouth when he pulled back for a brief moment of air, his thigh now wedged between yours.

“God, you’re so—” He pressed his lips to yours again, hand at the small of your back to pull you as close to him as possible. If you thought you were warm before packed in the crowd, you were in a stifling heat now, pinned between Sungchan’s body and the wall. He broke the kiss, asking between deep breaths, “Can—Can I take you home?”

“What about the other bands?” You giggled, lips ghosting over his as you spoke.

“Fuck the other bands,” he replied immediately. “As soon I saw you out in the crowd wearing my jacket, could barely focus on the set because you looked so good.”

“Yes, Sungchan.” You kissed him again. “You can take me home.”

As soon as Sungchan’s front door was shut, he had you pressed up against it again. You pulled at his flimsy tank top as his tongue slipped past your lips. Finally, he gave in to your persistent hands and let you pull it off him.

“Honestly, don’t even know why you bother with shirts at this point,” you scoffed, throwing it off towards the side somewhere.

“With how much I’ve spent on tattoos? I agree,” he chuckled, cupping your cheek to pull your mouth to his again.

Still attached to each other, you’d only succeeded at getting Sungchan’s belt unbuckled by the time you made it to his bedroom. Before you could unbutton his pants, however, he stepped back from you, familiar teasing glint in his eyes.

“Well this isn’t very fair, don’t you think?” He gestured between his half-dressed state and your fully dressed self.

“I thought you liked me in your jacket?” You taunted, wrapping the garment tighter around yourself.

“Which is why you’ve got to let me take it off you.” He put his hands together in a pleading motion. “And the pantsuit…”

“Mm, alright.” You dropped your hands from the jacket.

He circled behind you, hovering close to remove his leather jacket from your shoulders, pressing kisses to your neck as he did so. With him no longer blocking the rest of his bedroom from your view, you couldn’t help but be a little surprised at the presence of one thing.

“You know, I was mentally prepared for you to not have a bedframe,” you commented as he took off your blazer next.

“You got mattress-on-the-ground vibes from me and still came home with me?” Sungchan asked incredulously, letting out a breathy laugh. His deft fingers started unbuttoning your blouse next. “I think I’m flattered? And you’ve got to raise your standards.”

You turned around to face him, feeling the smirk on your face as you replied, “Let’s see how high we can raise those standards, hm?”

“Is that a challenge or what?” Sungchan laughed again, wasting no time in attaching his lips and teeth to your neck, dropping your blouse off your shoulders and to the floor.

When the garish blaring of your work alarm came, you reached over to the right to blindly grab your phone off your nightstand. Instead, your hand hit what felt like someone’s face, and you jolted up in bed as they did as well, already swearing.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Sungchan was holding his eye. “What the hell was that for? That’s not my alarm.”

Blinking a couple times to orient yourself first, you then jerked over to grab your phone off the floor on your left side. Sungchan may have had a bedframe, but he did only have one nightstand. You quickly turned off your alarm and fell back onto the mattress. You weren’t going to be able to go back to sleep, having been sufficiently scared awake, but you needed a second to catch your breath.

“Work alarm…” You explained belatedly, in case that wasn’t apparent.

Sungchan made a grunt of acknowledgement, dropping his hand from his face as he laid back down as well. He rolled over towards you, slinging an arm around your waist and burying his face in your shoulder. You stared up at his ceiling, feeling his warm breaths washing over the skin of your arm.

“Mars isn’t lonely,” you blurted out into his still-dark room.

“What?” He mumbled into your shoulder.

“It’s got two moons.”

Sungchan shifted around, propping his head up with his other hand to be able to talk. “Yes… Phobos and Deimos. Named for the Greek gods of fear and dread, respectively.”

“So to be lonely as Mars… with fear and dread as your only companions.”

“That was the idea, when we wrote it.” He brushed hair back from your face. “Don’t tell me the title of one of our songs kept you up all night.”

“No, was just kind of in the back of my mind.” You felt a sudden prickling along your skin as his hand fell to your arm, fingers playing with the sleeve hem of the t-shirt you were wearing—his. Sitting up out of his grasp, you pushed the covers off of you. “I have to get ready for work.”

Sungchan wordlessly watched you gather up your clothes from the floor and get dressed. When you went into the adjoining bathroom to check the tuck of your shirt into your pants and make other adjustments, he followed, leaning in the doorway with a troubled look on his face.

“Am I just something new, Y/N?” He asked bluntly, arms crossed over his chest.

“Am I just entertainment?” You immediately fired back, trying to smooth out a wrinkle that your blouse had acquired from sitting crumpled on the floor all night.

“What? Why would you think that?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“‘I don’t care. I just want to be along for the ride.’” You paraphrased what he said when he agreed to help you with your plan. “Am I just entertainment?”

His features softened. “No, you’re not entertainment.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, shoulders falling as they lost the tension they’d just held. “No, Sungchan, you’re not just something new.”

He walked over to you with a wide grin on his face, cupping your cheek and pressing his lips to yours. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss too, giving him one more peck before turning back to fixing your attire in the mirror. There was nothing you could do right now about the wrinkles, but you could at least attempt something with your hair.

Sungchan stepped behind you, resting his hands on your hips and pulling you back into him. He placed a few lazy kisses along your neck, murmuring, “I think the pantsuit is growing on me, actually.”

“Then why are you trying to take it off me?” You questioned, grabbing his hand that had been reaching for your blouse buttons again.

“Because I like what’s under it better.”

“Nice try. I have work.” You spun out of his arms, heading for his bedroom door.

Two steps into the hall, you knew something was wrong. There were other voices in Sungchan’s apartment, which stopped when they saw you. As soon as your eyes registered the three men in the living room, you skittered backwards back into Sungchan’s room again.

Practically slamming his door closed behind you, you didn’t let him get whatever surprised statement he had out of his mouth, as you hissed, “Sungchan! Why is your whole fucking band out there?”

“Probably because your work alarm woke them up too,” he laughed, which turned into a yawn as he stretched his arms over his head. “They’re not really early birds…”

“Why are they here?”

“They live here?”

In your rush to get into Sungchan’s bedroom last night, you had somehow missed any signs of three other people living here. You didn’t even hear them come home last night, and you weren’t exactly… quiet yourself. Definitely not three roommates quiet.

“Oh my god…” You sunk down against the door, shaking your head. “I’m just going to stay in here and die, I think.”

“I thought you had work?” Sungchan pointed out smugly.

“Ugh…” You groaned, covering your face with your hands.

“Y/N, they’ve already seen you. Here, I’ll walk you out. Will that help?” He offered, pulling on a shirt and his leather jacket.

“Fine, I’m gonna be late if I stay any longer.”

He held a hand out to you, and you placed yours in it for him to pull you to your feet. “Let’s go.”

The chatter that had started up again in your absence died down as soon as the bedroom door opened. Sure enough, the other three members of Roses for Eyes were sprawled out across the living room exactly where you’d left them. Shotaro was sideways in an armchair, Switch in hand as his thumbs moved over the controls quickly. Eunseok was sleepily eating a bowl of cereal on the couch, while Wonbin didn’t actually look awake, slumped against Eunseok’s shoulder with his eyes closed.

“Morning, guys,” Sungchan nodded to them as you walked by, still ushering you to the door.

Eunseok wordlessly held his hand out palm-up towards the armchair, and you saw Shotaro smack a few bills down into it.

At the front door, you were just ready to leave. Patting Sungchan’s arm, you gave him a nod and hushed, “Bye.”

Turning to grab the door handle, you heard Sungchan’s voice, nowhere near the whisper yours was.

“Baby, you almost forgot—” Sungchan stopped you, grabbing your hand and spinning you back around.

The sudden pet name made your skin burn. “What is it, Sungchan? My phone?” You started patting your pockets.

He took off the leather jacket that he just put on, putting it squarely on your shoulders. “Oh, and—” He cradled your face with two hands, kissing you.

It was short, sweet, and made your knees feel like jelly. When he’d pulled away, still holding your face, you whispered in the small space between you, “I’m going to be late.”

“Have a good day at work.” He smiled, letting you go and opening the door for you.

With a sigh, Eunseok gave the money back to Shotaro.

You weren’t late that morning, thankfully, but your mind was still in the stratosphere as you bustled around the breakroom making yourself coffee. You’d left Sungchan’s jacket hanging off the back of your chair; it wasn’t exactly in dress code for your office.

“Morning, Y/N,” Renjun said through a yawn, shuffling into the breakroom as well. He paused as he seemed to be taking in your clothes. “Am I crazy or did you wear that yesterday?”

“The only thing worse than an outfit repeater is an outfit remember-er,” you jested back.

“No, I mean like…” He got closer, rubbing his eyes as he peered at your blouse. “You didn’t wash them. They’re all wrinkled and—You got laid.”

“Or I need to do laundry.”

He pointed to your neck. “Hickey.”

“Damn, you caught me breaking my undying vow of chastity—oh wait,” you retorted sarcastically.

He held his hands up. “Hey, no slut-shaming here. Love that for you. One question?”

“What?”

“Was it drummer guy?”

You looked around the breakroom as you stirred sugar into your coffee. “…Yes.”

Renjun chuckled and grabbed a coffee mug. “Something new every day…”

“Why can’t you just get the food delivered?” You complained, pulling Sungchan’s blankets tighter around you as the bed grew cold without him in there with you.

He hopped on one foot as he pulled a shoe on. “Because the delivery charge is as much as the food is, baby. And it’s just around the block.”

You huffed dramatically, watching him start searching the sheets for his phone. He secured it in his hand victoriously, tucking it in his back pocket.

“You could come with me, you know,” he pointed out, mischievous hands already reaching for the covers and pulling them down, revealing your bare legs to the cold air conditioning. “But you’d have to put pants on.”

You yanked the blankets back over you. “I’ll wait.”

He snickered, leaning down to press his lips to yours. “Be back in a few.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sighed, kissing him again.

He dropped one more peck to your forehead before standing up straight and heading out, shutting his door behind him. You snuggled back under the covers, pulling the blanket up over your shoulders as you tried to enjoy the fleeting warmth left over as you scrolled on your phone. Sungchan had only been gone for a few minutes when you heard the front door open again. You perked up with interest. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d be back soon. Then there were a couple light knocks on the bedroom door. Not Sungchan. One of his bandmates must have come home.

You scrambled to throw the sheets off you and grab a pair of your shorts from Sungchan’s floor, putting your legs through them as you stumbled towards the door. Opening it just enough to peer out, you saw Wonbin on the other side, a plastic grocery bag in his hand. He didn’t seem surprised to see you at all.

“…Hi?” You greeted him hesitantly. You had been seeing Sungchan for a couple weeks now, and had caught glimpses of his roommates around his apartment, but had yet to say much more than the occasional ‘morning’ or ‘night’ or ‘hey’ in passing.

Wonbin held up the plastic bag. “Can you help me dye my hair?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” You looked down at what you were wearing, one of Sungchan’s black t-shirts. “What color? Should I change? Like, is it bleach?”

“Black. That’s fine.” He turned around, walking back down the hall.

You followed him as he opened another one of the doors, this one leading to a bathroom. As he prepped the dye, you read the pamphlet of instructions carefully.

“I’ll do the mixing,” he interrupted your deep focus. “I just can’t see the back of my head.”

“Oh. Okay.” You set the directions down on the counter next to the bottles. “I’ve never done this before… Don’t want to ruin your hair.”

He shrugged, handing you a pair of gloves. “If you miss a spot, we’ll just do it again.”

After Wonbin mixed up the dye, he sat on the edge of the tub for you to stand over him and start applying it to his hair. As you worked the dark dye into his blonde hair, you watched his soft waves straighten out.

“I liked the blonde curls,” you commented, moving onto the next section.

“Me too.” He flicked through his music library on his phone. “Time for something new, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” you smiled to yourself, adding more dye.

“What music do you like?”

“Oh, put on whatever you want. I’m trying to broaden my horizons.”

He wordlessly selected a song, a soft guitar melody coming through the speakers. It was so different from the music that you’d heard them perform, your hands slowed as you listened thoughtfully.

“Is that why you’re dating Sungchan?” Wonbin’s question caught you off-guard.

“What?” You parted his hair, double-checking that you had gotten every bit of blonde in that section.

“You’re broadening your horizons.” He picked at his nail polish that was already chipped. “Is that why you’re dating Sungchan?”

“Something like that.” Satisfied that you had fully saturated that area, you went to the next one. “I also just like him.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Why? Because we’re so different?”

“No, because he’s lame.”

You laughed right as you had started squeezing more dye out, missing his head as the liquid dripped right down the back of his neck instead. Wonbin hissed in surprise, shoulders jumping.

“Oh! Sorry!” You were still laughing as you grabbed the end of the towel that was around his shoulders, wiping at the stray hair dye.

Shotaro came home soon after that, joining the two of you in the bathroom, hopping up on the bathroom counter to watch you apply the hair dye. He showed off his new nose ring that he just got, and tsked when he saw Wonbin’s chipped nail polish.

“We’re gonna have to redo that, Wonbin,” the frontman shook his head. “After Y/N’s done with your hair.”

“Once it’s applied, it’s got to sit for thirty minutes,” you recalled the instructions. “Will that be long enough?”

“Plenty.”

You were a little more than halfway done with Wonbin’s hair when Sungchan finally got back.

“Wonbin? Taro? You guys here?” He called out into the apartment. “Y/N’s here too by the—”

He’d poked his head into the bathroom then, brown paper bag of food in hand. You gave him a wave with your hair dye-covered, gloved hand.

“Hi, Sungchan,” you smiled. “That was more than a few minutes.”

“Clearly,” he gestured to the scene in front of him. “I leave you for like twelve minutes and my bandmates adopt you.”

“We can eat once I finish applying Wonbin’s hair dye.”

“Sure.”

“What’d you get?” Shotaro leaned over towards the bag with interest.

“Only four extra crab rangoons. Fight over them however you want.” Sungchan pulled out a smaller bag from within the takeout bag.

Wonbin and Shotaro locked eyes.

“None for Eunseok?” Shotaro proposed.

Wonbin nodded minutely, as much as he could with some of his hair still in your hands. The front door slammed closed then, and they both groaned.

“I smell chemicals!” Eunseok yelled out. “What is it this time, Wonbin? Purple? Red? Both?”

The bassist appeared in the doorway behind Sungchan, peeking over his shoulder at everyone. “Oh hey, Y/N.”

“Hi, Eunseok.” You nodded to him, applying more dye.

“Shotaro, are those crab rangoons you’re hiding behind your back?”

A random Sunday afternoon found you at Sungchan’s apartment, as you seemed to be most days now. If you weren’t at work, at one of his gigs, or with your own friends, it was a safe bet that you could be found there.

He opened the door for you, pecking your cheek in greeting, “Hi, baby.”

“I know what we’re doing today,” you blurted out, before you could lose your nerve. “My something new.”

He tilted his head curiously. “And? What is it?”

You took a deep breath. “I’m going to get my ears pierced. Second lobe piercings, I already have the first done. I’ve been wanting to do it for like forever, but I just… haven’t. It’s allowed at my work, I checked the employee handbook, and asked someone from HR on Friday to be extra sure.”

Sungchan beamed at you. “Hell yeah. We can use Shotaro’s piercer, unless you’ve already looked someone up?”

“Whoever Shotaro goes to will be fine.”

Wonbin was taking a nap on the couch in the afternoon sunlight, and you walked past him to get to the hall where Shotaro and Eunseok’s rooms were. Shotaro’s door was ajar already, and Sungchan pushed it open the rest of the way. The frontman was laid out on his bed upside down, his feet kicked up on the wall as he lazily plucked out a melody on an acoustic guitar. Eunseok was in there too, scrawling away at a notebook at the guitarist’s desk.

“Who do you go to for your piercings?” Sungchan didn’t give either of them so much as a hello.

Shotaro craned his neck to look over at the two of you. “Huh? Oh, uh, Sid, at Black Cat in downtown. Why? What are you getting?”

“Not for me,” Sungchan informed him happily, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

Eunseok’s head snapped up from where he had been focused on his notebook, and Shotaro set his instrument aside to roll over and fully face you.

“Y/N?!” Shotaro’s jaw dropped in delight. “What are you getting?”

“Ah, just my second lobes…” you muttered self-consciously, hands instinctively feeling at the jewelry that you already had in your existing piercings. You pushed further into Sungchan’s side to hide your face from them, especially when the bassist muttered a ‘woah’ at this revelation.

“Sid taking walk-ins today?” Sungchan asked.

“She should be. You know what? I’ll call her right now.” Shotaro eagerly brought out his phone.

After he confirmed that Sid was, in fact, taking walk-ins, Sungchan went to get changed as Eunseok and Shotaro put shoes on as well, ushering you towards the front door. All the commotion woke Wonbin up, as he sleepily lifted his head up and rubbed one of his eyes, watching the four of you.

“Where are you guys going?” Wonbin squinted against the sun.

“Y/N’s getting pierced!” Shotaro announced brightly.

“I’m coming.”

At Black Cat, which you learned was a tattoo and piercing shop, you met with Sid, a young woman who was no older than you, and told her what you wanted. She nodded, looking at your ears for just a second.

“Easy. How old were you when you got the first ones done?” She asked, pulling out a tray of jewelry from under the counter she was standing behind.

“Thirteen maybe? I know it was done with one of those piercing guns…” You admitted sheepishly.

“We don’t use those here.” She shook her head. “Injures the tissue too much. I’ll be using a needle, should take like half a second on each side. I’ll explain everything back at the station where I can show you all the tools.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“I’ll give you a minute to pick your jewelry while I prep the station.” With that, she walked towards the back of the shop.

Everyone huddled around while you browsed through the options, seeming to have their own input. You finally settled on a pair of studs with small diamonds in them, not too outlandish; you’d be able to easily match them with the rest of your jewelry and any outfits you wore to work easily while the piercings healed.

“You nervous?” Sungchan murmured, rubbing your back as Shotaro and Wonbin wandered over towards the other end of the clear case of jewelry, looking at industrial piercings. Eunseok flipped through a book of flash tattoo options.

You shook your head. “No. Excited.”

“So you’re not gonna need to hold my hand?”

“I didn’t say that…”

As Sid walked back over, the others crowded around you excitedly again.

“Do you all really need to be here? It’s not that big of a deal…” You muttered, a bit embarrassed at how hyped they were over you just getting a couple ear piercings.

“I’m with Y/N on this one. Only you can come back.” She pointed at Sungchan. “The rest of you will have to wait up front.”

Sitting on the padded chair at Sid’s station, she walked you through each step and the tools she’d be using first, then marked where the piercings would go on your ears.

“Check the placement.” She handed you a handheld mirror.

You appraised them, then looked up at Sungchan. “What do you think? Even?”

“Sit up straight. And straighten out your shoulders, did you know you slouch?” He teased, grabbing your shoulders and straightening them out for you.

You glared up at him, but fixed your posture nevertheless.

“They look good, baby,” he approved, squeezing your arm.

Sungchan stood off to your side, holding your hand as Sid got ready on the on the first ear.

“Alright. One, two—” At the pinch, you squeezed Sungchan’s hand tighter, face screwing up in surprise.

She moved to the other side. “Next. One, two—” Pinch. “All done.”

“Wooh!” The other three cheered from up front, pumping their fists and jumping up and down.

“Fuck yeah, Y/N!” Eunseok yelled out.

“Baby’s first body mod!” Shotaro pretended to wipe a tear from under his eye. “They grow up so fast…”

“So pretty, baby,” Sungchan kissed your cheek, a wide grin on his face when he pulled back. He wiped at the single actual tear that had spilled over from your own eye. “So proud of you.”

Your face hurt from how much you were smiling, more than your ears did.

“Y/N!” Jaemin stood up from the table as soon as he saw you, pulling you in for a hug. The two of you were meeting up on your respective lunch breaks at a café equidistant from your workplaces.

“Hi Jaem—Ow!” You hissed as his head bumped into your ear.

“What? What’s wrong?” He pulled back, clearly worried.

“It’s nothing, sorry.” You cradled the wounded ear, giving him a reassuring smile. “I finally got my second lobes done the other day and they’re still tender.”

“Let me see!”

You tucked your hair behind your ears to show off the small diamonds. “Just some studs…”

“Cool. They look good.” He was still smiling as the two of you sat down. “What made you want to do that?”

“I’ve been talking about it for a while.”

“Yeah, I know. What made you finally get them?”

“Something spontaneous or new every day, remember?”

“Well, I’m happy you finally did it. Seems your little quarter life crisis is actually working, huh?”

“Sungchan’s been helping me,” you acknowledged, watching his face carefully.

His eyebrows lifted slightly. “The drummer guy?”

“Yeah, I’ve been seeing him...” You sat forward, lacing your hands together in front of you on the table. “Speaking of—Dinner tomorrow, I figured I could bring him? You guys could all meet?”

Jaemin rubbed the back of his neck, tone turning remorseful. “Damn, Y/N, I wish you’d told me sooner. I already made the reservation for five people.”

“You can’t call back and change it to six?”

“Limited space.”

“There’s not a lot of five-person tables. Wouldn’t they be putting us at one that seats six anyway?”

“If I change it, we’ll be bumped to the bottom of the list again.”

“Oh. That’s alright, another time,” you acquiesced as your waiter came over, handing you menus.

“Another time,” your friend agreed.

You were in the ‘green room’ of Anton’s basement, which was actually the laundry alcove that had a few chairs set up for the acts to sit and wait before they went on. All of Roses for Eyes were back there, chatting as the time for their set to start got closer.

“You know what I’m craving?” Sungchan hummed in your ear.

“What is that?” You turned to look at him out of the corner of your vision from your current position on his lap.

“Fries from that place where your sturdy friend works.”

“He has a name,” you laughed, pinching his forearm. “Do you want to go get some after this? They’re open late.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“After the day I had at work, I’ve earned a milkshake,” you sighed, leaning back against him.

Sungchan wrapped his arms around your waist, and you could hear the frown in his voice as he asked, “What happened, baby?”

“You’re about to go on, I’ll tell you later,” you promised. “Just my boss—”

“Yo! Roses!” Anton poked his head into the room just then. “Two minutes! Let’s go!”

You got up from Sungchan’s lap as the others started grabbing their instruments. “I should go grab a spot.”

“Okay…” He cupped your cheek to bring your mouth to his. “See you in a minute, baby.”

“See you.”

You picked your way through the crowd until you found a group of familiar faces: Anton, and two more regulars and friends of Roses for Eyes, Sohee and Seunghan. When the band still hadn’t come out after a few minutes, you got on your tiptoes to look over the crowd towards the green room.

“Wonder what’s keeping them?” You mused, dropping back onto flat feet again.

“Oh, Jay and Hayoung popped in there right after you left,” Anton explained. “Said they wanted to talk to them.”

“I thought they already left,” Seunghan commented.

“No, their tour starts in a couple weeks, I think,” Sohee explained. “Or at least, the tickets I have aren’t until next month.”

“Is that for the Venue:Hell show?”

“Yeah, are you going?”

“Waiting to get paid then I’ll buy my ticket.”

“Anton and I have an extra,” Sohee offered. “He was going to bring that girl he was seeing, but we all know how that worked out.”

“No need to rub it in my face,” Anton grumbled as the other two simultaneously snickered and tried to comfort him. He then turned to you. “Where’d Sungchan find you, anyway?”

“Oh, uh, I got lost and asked him for directions at the bookstore he works at,” you answered, knowing that wasn’t going to help your friend very much.

“You’re useless to me.”

You laughed and patted his back. “I’m sorry, Anton. Maybe instead of trying to find someone the same way Sungchan and I met, you should just try meeting different people. Sungchan could tell that I wasn’t into this kind of stuff at all when we met, and still tried anyway.”

“Alright, got any pantsuit-wearing friends you can set me up with?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

It was then that Roses for Eyes finally started walking out, Sungchan at the front. They seemed to be even more energetic than usual during their set, and you could feel it radiate out through the whole room. You couldn’t stop jumping, dancing, and singing along to the songs that you had finally learned the lyrics to.

When they were done, Shotaro gave their usual thank-you and goodbye before leaving. By the time the next act was starting their first song, Roses for Eyes had joined the rest of you in the crowd.

“You guys did so good!” You praised them, squeezing Shotaro’s forearm as you wrapped your other arm around Sungchan’s waist. “Like, I think that was like the best set I’ve ever seen!”

“Thanks, baby,” Sungchan laughed breathlessly, kissing your temple and pulling you even closer with an arm around your shoulders. “You looked like you were having a good time.”

“She’s right, you guys had a lot of energy up there,” Seunghan complimented them as well.

“What did Hayoung and Jay want, by the way?” Anton asked. “They kept you guys for a while.”

The band exchanged uncertain looks, Eunseok, Wonbin, and Shotaro looking to Sungchan as if waiting for his cue.

He shrugged and squeezed your shoulder. “Just dropping by before they go on tour, you know?”

The rest of Roses for Eyes declined accompanying you and Sungchan for your midnight snack, so it was just the two of you squished into the same side of a booth, Sungchan taking sips from your milkshake as you stole fries from his plate.

“Tell me about work,” he prompted you, nudging your leg with his.

“Oh, God, it was just… long,” you groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “Felt like it would never end. My boss put off starting his part of this project until literally the day before our deadline to send it to the VP, which meant I had to rush to finalize everything. Meanwhile, he was breathing down my neck the whole time about the deadline! Like! Dude, I fucking know! We wouldn’t be cutting it so close if he had done his part earlier!”

“That’s really inconsiderate.” Sungchan frowned, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry, baby, that sounds really stressful.”

“But we got it submitted, so that’s all that matters, I guess,” you sighed. “You were right, Sungchan. I hate my job.”

His hand stilled on your back, just resting there as you sat in the wake of your admission.

“You remember my friends from the food truck?” He asked, abruptly changing topics.

“Yeah, Jay and Hayoung.”

“Well, we actually got an offer to open for their band on tour,” he told you, voice pitching up with excitement. That must’ve been what they were discussing before their set tonight. “It’ll be for a couple months.”

“Oh… congrats. I know this is big for you guys. Have fun.” You smiled, trying to hide the sudden emptiness inside you as you tried to imagine what your days would look like without Sungchan or the rest of his bandmates for two whole months. “When do you leave?”

“Next Saturday. Their original opener dropped out, it was last-minute.”

“Oh. I’ll see you when you get back, then.” You then paused, your mind suddenly changing directions and racing with other thoughts of why he might want to be telling you this. He was a drummer in a band going on their first tour, maybe he’d want the full rockstar experience. “Unless this was something else…”

His eyes widened as he shook his head fervently. “I’m not—I mean, I won’t ask you to wait for me if you want to get on with your life while I’m gone, but I would wait for you.”

“Why not?” You furrowed your brow thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Why wouldn’t you ask me to wait for you? You want me to ask you to wait, but you won’t ask me.”

“Because I’m about to ask you for something even bigger than to wait two months for me to come back.” He grabbed your hand, holding it tight.

“What…?”

“Come with me.”

“What?!” You blinked, for a moment unsure that you had even heard him right.

“On tour. Come with me,” he repeated, as sincere, eager, and genuine as he was in everything.

You immediately stammered out, “Sungchan, I’d have to quit my job—”

“And then when we get back, you can find one that you actually like.”

“If I can even get one.”

“This is exactly what you’ve been trying to do, Y/N. Something new every day.” He was sandwiching your hand between both of his now. “Please, just think about it?”

“Alright, what are you moping about?” Renjun asked, pushing an already-opened beer into your hand as he walked by.

The five of you were over at Jeno and Jaemin’s place for a movie, pizza, and beer night, and the first movie hadn’t even been started yet. As usual, you were an open book to your friends.

“Sungchan’s band is going on tour. For two months,” you told them glumly before bringing the bottle to your lips. “They leave Saturday.”

“They have enough fans to do that?” Donghyuck snorted, picking up a slice of pizza.

“They’re opening for another band.”

“Aw, I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Y/N,” Jaemin went to comfort you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You tapped a fingernail against the glass bottle in your hands. “He asked me to go with him.”

“Does he think you can just quit your job for two months and come back and your boss will rehire you?” Renjun retorted. “This guy lives another world, sounds like you dodged a bullet.”

“You’re considering it.” Donghyuck pointed at you knowingly. “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have brought up that he asked you until after he was long gone.”

You were quiet, looking down at your slice of pizza.

“Are you?” Jeno asked.

“I mean, I’ve been trying to do something different every day—”

“Woahwoahwoah! Seriously?!” Renjun cut you off, waving his hands wildly.

“I have enough in my savings to cover my rent and stuff while I’m gone, plus a few months after I get back while I look for a new job—”

“Holy shit you’re like, serious about this,” Jeno breathed out, blinking in surprise.

Jaemin took over, “When we joked about you having a quarter life crisis, we didn’t mean for you to actually do something like quit your job and go run off to join your punk boyfriend that you barely know on his dirtbag boyband’s tour for months.”

“We kind of figured you seeing this guy was already pushing your limits…” Renjun added.

“Gee, thanks.” You rolled your eyes. “You thought I was—What? Getting it out of my system? Then I’d settle down with a guy who’s as boring as I am?”

“When you phrase it like that—”

“You guys don’t even know Sungchan.” You cut Jaemin off, getting to your feet to face them all as your skin pricked with anger.

“Do you? You’ve been seeing him for like a month.” Jaemin gestured to you pointedly.

“Three. But thanks for proving my point so well,” you snapped. “You haven’t even tried to get to know him! You don’t like his music, fine, I wouldn’t expect you to go back to a show. But you haven’t invited him anywhere and you somehow always have an excuse when I invite you guys to something with him. None of you have even really met him. Not even Jeno from that one time, so don’t try to start that.”

They all seemed to be at a loss for words, looking at each other as if waiting for someone else to say the right thing.

“Y/N, come on…” Jaemin tried again, but trailed off at your furious glare.

“I’m going,” you declared, grabbing your phone from the coffee table. “Unless any of you plan on getting your heads out of your asses in the next five seconds.”

They were quiet again, and you took that as your answer, storming out of the apartment.

“Oh hey.” Eunseok’s face held mild surprise when he opened the door for you. “Sungchan said you weren’t coming over today.”

“Is he here?” You were still agitated from what just happened with your friends.

“In his room.” The bassist stepped back to let you in.

You passed by Wonbin and Shotaro in the living room, a game paused on their TV. They gave you greetings as you walked by, and you tossed a hello back over your shoulder. Sungchan’s door opened before you even got to it, confusion on his features when he saw you there.

“Hey, I thought I heard your voice.” He watched you as you stomped past him into his room. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, baby, but I thought you were hanging out with your friends tonight. What are you doing here?”

“I’m pissed at them.”

“What happened?” He sat down on his bed as you paced angrily in front of him.

“I was trying to tell them about the tour.” You gestured between the two of you. “You know, bouncing ideas off them or whatever. My mind was pretty much made up, I just needed to talk it through. And they couldn’t even be happy for you, or actually listen to me! They just called you a dirtbag and patronized me like a dumb child. Apparently, they’ve just been waiting for me to dump you and settle down with some boring guy that’s better for someone boring like me! They’ve been refusing to meet you, I mean, I can’t believe they think they somehow know anything about if you’re good for me or not.”

Sungchan had been listening patiently while you ranted, and when it seemed like you had come to a stopping point, he asked, “They really said all that?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Pretty much?” He repeated knowingly.

You put your hands on your hips. “They called you guys a dirtbag boyband. And said I was ‘pushing my limits’ by seeing you.”

“‘Dirtbag boyband,’” Sungchan repeated with a laugh. “Yeah, I like that.”

“Of course you think it’s funny.”

“That part? Yeah, I do,” he snickered, holding a hand out towards you. When you had reluctantly put yours in it, he pulled you closer, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “The part where they’re being super judgmental and treating you like you can’t make your own decisions? No, I don’t think that’s funny.”

You took a deep breath, already beginning to calm down a little as he continued working soothing circles into your skin.

“You said your mind was made up? Mostly?” Sungchan asked tentatively, eyes focused on your intertwined hands.

“I want to go with you,” you said, watching his head snap up to look at you, his face hopeful. “On the tour. I fucking hate my job and I love you.”

Sungchan’s eyes went wide as he gazed up at you. Then he was yanking you down into his arms, and you let out an embarrassing ‘eep!’ as you threw your arms around his shoulders, trying to find some stability in your sudden change in orientation. He held you tightly, burying his face in your neck. You could feel his smile against your skin.

“I love you too,” he murmured, pulling back to cup your cheek. He was grinning. “I love you.”

Your skin got warmer as you realized exactly what you’d said, but you couldn’t take it back now. You’d said it, you meant it, it was true, and you wanted to say it again.

“I love you.” You repeated, feeling a smile creep across your face.

Sungchan leaned up to kiss you, cradling the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours. You kissed him back, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pressed even closer to him.

Your phone started buzzing relentlessly in your back pocket then, and you let out an annoyed groan into Sungchan’s mouth. You broke apart just enough to pull out your phone and look at the screen, fully intending on declining the call. Then you saw the caller ID and paused.

“Who is it?” Sungchan asked, kissing along your jaw.

“Jeno.” You continued staring at the screen.

He drew back. “You should answer it.”

“Sungchan—”

“Just see what he wants. Might be important.”

You sighed, and hit the accept button. “What?”

“You picked up! Great!” Jeno sounded genuinely shocked. “Uhm, will you come back?”

“So you guys can continue belittling my life choices? Pass.”

“No, no, so we can all talk. Actually talk this time.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you sized up your options: staying here with Sungchan, or going back to that unpleasant atmosphere. Seemed like a pretty obvious choice to you.

“Jaemin will apologize,” Jeno added. “He wants to apologize, uh, to you.”

“Why didn’t he call me then?” You asked dryly.

“He didn’t think you’d pick up if he called.”

“I wasn’t going to pick up your call either,” you informed him. “Sungchan said I should hear you out.”

“Oh. You’re with him right now.”

“I’ll come back,” you stated. “But I’m bringing Sungchan.”

You would be feeling awkward right now if you weren’t so pissed off. As soon as Jaemin had opened the door and you saw his face, you just got pissed off all over again. The only thing keeping you here and mostly civil was Sungchan.

“This is Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck, and Jaemin,” you blandly pointed out all your friends for Sungchan’s sake.

“Hi, Sungchan, dirtbag boyfriend,” Sungchan introduced himself with a broad smile, making the first move to shake all their hands.

Jaemin looked at you incredulously. “Y/N, you told him—”

“They’re your words, Jaemin. Now eat. them.” You said through gritted teeth, arms crossed over your chest firmly.

“I didn’t call you a dirtbag,” Jaemin tried to explain himself to Sungchan.

“Just his band,” Renjun pointed out helpfully.

“I thought it was funny,” Sungchan told him with a chuckle, stepping back to wrap an arm around your shoulders. “Y/N, not so much.”

“Well, she has no sense of humor, as I’m sure you know,” Donghyuck teased.

You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t introduce you guys for you to all pick on me.”

“I think you’ve got a great sense of humor, baby,” your boyfriend reassured you, squeezing your arm.

“So do you have like, a tour bus or something?” Jaemin asked.

“We’ve got a van,” Sungchan told them proudly. “We won’t be sleeping in it or anything, we’ll get hotels.”

“How many tattoos do you have?” Donghyuck flopped back into his armchair.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Jaemin rounded on him.

He shrugged. “Nothing. Just curious.”

“I’ve lost count,” Sungchan answered candidly.

“Cool.”

“Y/N mentioned you worked at a bookstore and a tea shop as well,” Jeno said. “Are they cool with you uh, going so suddenly?”

“I’m a part-timer. My bosses at both places knew what I actually wanted to do when I started,” he explained. “If they still have a spot for me when we get back, that’d be nice, but I don’t expect it.”

“So, are you going to be quitting tomorrow, Y/N?” Renjun’s voice held no judgment, just curiosity.

You nodded. “Yeah. I fucking hate that place.”

“Good. I could tell.”

“When do you guys leave? This week?” Jeno asked.

“Saturday,” Sungchan confirmed. “We’ll be popping back over here in a few weeks for a show at Venue:Hell, though.”

“Are there tickets… left?” Jaemin rubbed the back of his neck. “To the show in town?”

“You want to go?” You blurted out, a little dumbfounded.

“Totally, man.” Sungchan was absolutely beaming. “I’ll get you guys some.”

Donghyuck raised his beer to him before tipping it back. “Hell yeah.”

Later that night, tucked under Sungchan’s covers and curled up in his arms, your fingertips traced the lines of his tattoos as you were slowly lulled closer and closer to sleep.

“Thank you, Sungchan,” you said aloud into the darkness.

“Mm? For what, baby?” He questioned sleepily, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

“For not giving up on me. Even if you were just tagging along for the ride at the beginning, I would’ve just given up on my stupid little idea to cure my quarter life crisis if I didn’t have someone else doing it with me,” you admitted.

“Thank you for not telling me to fuck off when you had every right to,” he chuckled, tangling his legs with yours. “I love you, baby.”

You turned your head to kiss his hair. “I love you too, Sungchan.”

⏯ sequel

⤷ masterlist

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bonkwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Civilian Life

READ PART TWO: SIMON’S FANTASY

READ PART THREE: GIRL’S NIGHT

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, Minors DNI, dirty talk, domestic!Simon, PIV sex, riding, fluff and smut, hair pulling, doggy, missionary, riding, fingering, cunnilingus

* - * - * - * - * - *

Simon wonders, when he's too exhausted to breathe and drifting off to sleep, what you're doing at home. In his flat. In his bed. He doesn't get a phone, not on missions, because of the risk. His phone can be traced back to him, to his face, to you. He'll never take the risk of putting you in danger.

Never.

But he's a fucking softie for you, and so he wonders. Are you sleeping? Are you up watching telly? Are you laying in bed, minutes before you'll fall asleep, thinking the same thing he's thinking?

And God, he'll come home and sleep for three days straight, tired and worn down, and you sleep right there with him. You take the week off work every single time he comes home just to spend time with him. You rub that bruise-balm on the bruises he has from fighting and then you press up on your fucking tip-toes to kiss him.

"God, you are perfect," he purrs, hands on your back, holding you against him. You'll giggle, try to escape his arms, and it'll end with you pressed up against the wall, losing your 'fight' and kissing him.

You put your hands on his cheeks, you let him lift you to hold you against the wall, and you whimper when his hands squeeze your waist. Perfect. Woman.

You go out with him, you drag him around to little markets and cafes. You hold his hand, overjoyed he's home alive, and London seems to decide the rain is over when you're out. The tiny spots of sun light up your face and if Simon could bribe the sun to stay out and the clouds to fuck off he would.

"Simon," there's a hand on his shoulder as he zones out into a market table of jewelry while you look at them, "didn't know you were in London."

It's John at his side, the captain, and you light up when you see him.

"John!" You haven't seen him since the wedding and so you jump at the chance to pull him into a hug. John gives you a friendly post on the back, chuckling.

"Nice to see you, love." John says as you pull away.

"You too! Oh, I haven't seen you since the wedding!" You can't keep the smile off your face. The last time you were all together was Johnny's wedding and god was that a night…

He remembers the drunk sex you had in the back of his car, the way you babbled about needing to be the next girl to get married, that you wanted to be his wife…

"How've you been?" John's voice pulls him back from his memory.

"Great! Happy to be out." You reply. "The weather's finally nice."

"It is." John looks across the street, "couple of the boys and me are getting lunch across the street, wanna stop in?"

You look up at Simon, asking him if it's okay with your eyes.

"Sure." Simon replies. You smile up at him and reach over to take his hand.

Gaz, Johnny, Johnny's girl, and Konig are across at the restaurant. They pull in chairs for you and Simon and you sit.

"Konig," you smile at him, sitting next to him with Simon on the other side, "surprised to see you! Why're you in London?"

"Uhm," he's unsure of himself unless he's got a gun in his hand, has been since Simon met him, "just visiting, I haven't been to London since I was little."

"How do you like it?" Then begins the small talk. You tell everyone about your new job, about the puppy you want, and you laugh as they all gang up on him for not getting it for you.

"She's gotta be lonely while you're off on missions," John jokes.

"Bad boyfriend behavior Simon," Kaz says.

You bite your lips to keep yourself from laughing too hard and Simon jokes that they're all his squad mates and that they'll be watching their own backs next time.

You don't get home until nearly half-past seven, you eat pizza on the couch and watch telly until you're going off to be with him behind you.

It's supposed to be a goodnight kiss. You're in your little satin tank top and shorts set, hands on his chest, pressing against him. Simon can't help himself. He can't help the way his lips trail to your neck, the way his teeth tease at your skin, and he definitely loses all control when he hears you gasp his name.

Fuck it all to hell.

He leaves your neck blooming with black and blue, he squeezes your hips and dips his finger into your shorts to grope your ass. You whimper for him, you thread your fingers in his short hair and you tug it, and when your knees go weak you just get on them.

Simon groans when you look up at him, your hands on his pajama bottoms, lips already slightly parted. Can I? Simon wonders why you ask. He nods, his fingers in your hair. His pajamas hit the floor and you take him in your hand, eyes drifting closed when you wrap your mouth around him.

"Fuck, love, the shit you do to me…" He groans. This is what he tries to imagine when he takes himself into his hand in the rare alone moments on missions. He tries to imagine the way your mouth feels around him.

It never compares.

You've got a horrible gag reflex when you're tense, and you're always tense. Simon hears you gag and a shiver runs up his spine. He knows it’s painful, and that you hate it, but it’s all in your head that you’re going to gag. He’s gotta get you out of your head.

"Take it slow," he grumbles, "not going anywhere."

You pull your mouth off of him and lick your lips as you stare up at him.

"Will you fuck my throat?" You ask it like he'll say no, like 'no' is an option. Simon wouldn't be a man if he said no to that.

He imagines the headspace it put you in too and god he's fucked.

"'Course I will, sweetheart," he replies and you smile up at him before your mouth is hanging open again. Devastating.

Simon eases himself in, he reminds you to breathe through your nose, then he takes your hair in his hand… makes a ponytail in his fucking fist… and starts to fuck your throat. He sees your eyes roll back at one point and he wonders if you're enjoying this more than he is. He hears you whimper, feels your fingertips and your nails dig into his thighs and god he just wants to make you take it because he knows how much you love it when does.

You go fucking crazy for him to take your control out of your hands, for him to make you his. He has to pull your mouth off of him so that he doesn't cum down your throat. He has to fuck you, he hasn't fucked you in so long.

"S-Simon-" your voice is almost a whine, almost asking him why he stopped. He chuckles.

"Gotta fuck you," Simon replies, just as breathless as you are, "Gotta fuck you, okay?"

“P-” you stutter, let him pull you to your feet, “-Please.”

Your legs shake as he pulls your tank top over your head. You never wear a bra to bed, an added bonus to every night he gets to sleep next to you, and Simon wants to fall to his knees and mark your chest up like it’s his only job. Your knees have to be killing you though, and so he gets you out of your shorts and onto the bed on your back.

“Simon…” his hands trail down your thighs, they knead your skin. Your soft, soft fucking skin. He’s gotta get his mouth between your thighs. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He’d fuck you in a second but he’s gotta draw it out.

He wants to give you a night you brag about to your girlfriends tomorrow. He loves hearing the way you brag about his skills.

Simon sinks to his knees at the edge of the bed and he takes your thighs in each hand to pull you closer. Your legs dangle over his shoulders, you’re watching him without breathing. His hands press your hips to the bed when they wiggle, he tries to give you his most dangerous eyes.

“Stay still,” he says, “or else.”

“Or else?” you tease, not too far gone to give him shit and Simon commits himself to remedying it. “What would you do to me? Oh, please don’t punish me Ghost, I promise I’ll be a good girl.”

You’re giggling, you have the audacity to giggle while he’s between your legs but what has Simon freezing isn’t your giggles, it’s the way you called him Ghost. You know his code name, of course you do, but you’ve never used it. Never. Simon get’s impossibly harder at the fantasy that pops into his head.

Bending you over a table, handcuffing you, pushing you close to the edge again and again with all of his gear on, pressing you for information you won’t give… promising to make you cum if you just give me the intel, sweetheart. He’s gotta tell you about it later. You’d be down for it, his little freak.

Simon rolls his eyes at your giggling and presses your thighs open to get his fucking mouth on you. You gasp, one of your hands is in your hair, the other one is thrown over your face, hiding behind it. Simon presses his arm over your lower belly to pin you down and presses two fingertips to your hole. You spread your legs wider, you cry out his name, and Simon sinks two of his fingers into you. God, the way you clench around them makes his head spin.

“I-I’m-” it’s so early, so fast, that it throws you off guard. You try to close your legs around his head, stop him from going further, but he elbows them open and keeps his fingers moving.

“My poor girl,” Simon whispers against the skin of your thighs, “always so neglected when I’m off on a mission, aren’t you?”

“A-Am. I am.” your hips twitch, you squirm on his fingers, and Simon groans at the way your back arches.

“Let me make it up to you, love.” he replies, voice low and dark. Simon is intent on getting you to cum atleast once more before he turning you over and fucking you just the way you like.

“Simon!” you squeal, legs twitching to close. You work hard to keep them open, just the way you know he likes, shaking like a damn leaf.

“One more, sweetheart, gimme one fucking more.” Simon growls before he’s putting his mouth back on you and sucking your clit into his mouth.

You sob, your legs close around his head and he thinks try to push me away, try it love because he knows you like it when he pushes you, he knows how you like it when he takes control of your body. You can’t stop the incoherent rambles of his name and please and stop that tumble from your lips. You try to lift your hips off the bed but he shoves them down. You try to back yourself up to get away from him but he keeps you pinned with an arm across your stomach. You slap your hands over your mouth to keep yourself from screaming and Simon reacts, lifting his arm off your stomach to pin them down with your hips by the wrists.

You cum screaming his name, trying to break his neck with your fucking thighs and spasming around his fingers. He’s never seen you cum that hard and now he’s hooked.

“Why did you-” you pant, struggling with your words, “the-the neighbors Simon…”

“Don’t fucking care,” he grumbles, he kisses your quaking thighs, “pieces of shite anyways.”

“Simon…” you’re trying to sound scold-y, like you’re angry with him, but when he crawls up your body and kisses you, you stop complaining. He’s gotta give you time to recover after something like that, and so he just holds you for a little while, kissing you and running his hands calmly over your back.

You start kissing him again after a while, tongue tangled with his, breath heavy, eyes lidded. He can feel your skin grow hotter, clammier, and you throw your leg over his hip to get him on his back.

“Goddamnit…” he groans when you sit up, hands splayed across his chest, back arched to grind against him. He puts a hand under his head, the other reaching down to grab your hip and guide you.

You lift your hips, reach down beneath you and line him up. God, you sink yourself down on him and you just can’t keep yourself from grinding on him. Simon watches you lift your hips, hears the way you moan and watches you throw your head back with it. He fills you up nicely, has had you crying your compliments more than once, and you like to savor it when you’re on top. You grind your hips, you drag them up and down his cock slowly, and within ten minutes Simon’s a goddamn mess for you. He thrusts his hips upwards, he uses his hands on your hips to control the drag of your hips, and you fall apart on top of him.

“Ch-Change me,” you whimper, losing speed and stamina, “O-On my- want you from behind-”

You don’t need to tell him twice.

Simon gets you to your chest, knees spread, back arched, hands gripping the sheets above your head. Simon is a gentleman, or at least he can be, and so he moves your hair out of your face and gathers it into a ponytail in his fist to pull it. You gasp, hips squirming to grind against him. Simon holds your hips still with one hand.

“You’re gonna take it like my good little slut, aren’t you?” you nod, whimpering, clenching down around nothing.

“I’m yours- your good little slut,” you whisper against the sheets, eyes shut and rolled back. Simon sinks in, so fucking slow, and sob with it. You’ve told him before this angle is different, deeper, more sensitive. You can’t stop the way your hips twitch and grind against, it’s impossible with how desperate you’ve become.

Simon’s hips snap forward and you cry out his name as he starts to fuck you. You’re both so sensitive, so desperate from him being away, that it's not gonna be long before he’s pulling out to cum on your thighs. He groans at the image his memory brings up for him of your thighs all covered with him. He releases your hair to sit up, hands on your ass and hips, groping a cheek before he pulls his hand back to spank you. You sob, hand reaching back to push at his naval.

“Don’t fucking think so,” he growls, pinning your wrists in one of his hands and fucking you harder for it, “fucking take it,”

Your hips still, back arched as far down as it’ll go, legs spread wider as you pulse around him through your third orgasm of the night. You moan, the bed bumps against the wall, and Simon’s grip on your wrists and hip tightens.

“Where, love?” he grits out.

“Inside,” you cry, “please, inside,”

Who the fuck is he to argue? He goes still, buried inside of you, and has the best orgasm of his fucking life. You take it like the perfect girl you are, whimpering when he pulls out. He grabs a towel, puts it under your hips but he’s depraved, a sick fucking man, because he kneels behind you and watches it drip out of you for a second before he wipes you down with a towel and turns you over.

Fucked out, googly eyed, you pull him down for Simon’s guiltest of guilty pleasures: naked, after-sex cuddles.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost mw2 #Smut #cod mw2 #cod #mw2 x reader #ghost smut #ghost x reader smut

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romana-after-dark · 1 month ago

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Dirty Old Man

Dark!Old Man!Logan x fem!reader

Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist

Follow @romana-updates and click follow, join my tumblr community or ask to join the tag list to keep up!

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

Summary: Logan is your driver, and one day he gets tired of keeping his hands to himself. Logan's POV.

Warnings: NON CON! DDDNE!!!!! Alcohol consumption, breeding kink but reader is on birth control. slapping. big, girthy, throbbing, rock hard age gap. crying, dirty talk. Absolutely wild slut shaming and misogyny in Logan's head. Seriously yall he's bad here. Theres nothing redeeming about him.

1.5 K words

Minors DNI, DEAD DOVE!!!

Support writers and artists, reblog and leave comments

He’d been watching you for longer than you realized.

Logan was used to taking odd jobs, having just enough to get by and when he tires of one place or another, he quits and finds somewhere else. But this right here? Yeah, he was sticking around for a bit.

You were a stupid little thing, silly and bubble head with a great pair of tits and a niave view of the world. He was your driver, taking you all around the streets of New York, anywhere from fancy gala’s to Sex and the City style luncheons -wait no it’s called brunch-, Sex and the City style brunches, to sleepovers with friends. Every time you hoped in the pretentious car, you slid in the back with a hello, and hopped out with a goodbye and a thank you. Today was no different.

A little crisp out for such a small dress, don’t you think?

Fall was coming, even if it grew later and later every year for the leaves to turn yellow and the wind to cool around you. Still, it never stopped dumb girls like you from dressing in the skimpiest little things, just tempting nasty old men like him, testing, teasing, until there was a consequence. You really needed to learn a lesson, didn’t you? One by one, Logan dropped off your slutty little friends, all dressed in an aray of orange and red and black and all the fall colors that were fashionable for bimbo’s like them to pay attention to. This wasn’t all your friend he’d driven to the club, some of them probably went off to get railed by some horny college student who just had to compliment them once or twice and they were sliding their underwear to the side.

You weren’t like them. You were wearing white, as pure as the day you were born, your sweet little head too filled up with thoughts of sunshine and flowers to be someone who’d let a man touch you like that. That’s why Logan wasn’t going to be ‘let’, he was going to take.

Drunk like your father every evening trying to drown out your nagging mother, you babbled on about the evening to him after your last friend left, filling him in on all the innocent fun you had at the club. You weren’t like the others, you didn’t grind on men or kiss your friends for attention or snort coke, you were happy with a several drinks and a good time.

“Back home, bub?” He asks you, looking through the rearview mirror.

“Yes, please, Mr. Smith.” You replied with his alias. He wanted to make you scream Logan, Logan, Logan. A pause. “Where are we?”

Logan had pulled into an empty alley, smirking at the knit of your eyebrows in confusion. “Gotta check the back tire, bub. Seems off.”

You were too drunk and stupid to question him. Naive girl, so trusting. He went to the back right tire, near wear you sat, and bent over pretending to look, knowing you well enough to know you’d open the door and peek out.

“Wha- *hiccup* what is it, Mr. Smiff?”

He chuckles at you slurring his faux name.

“You can just call me Logan, kid, I told yuh that.” Logan stands, bracing his arm over the car frame, leaning over you. “Everything, I’m afraid.”

You blink up at him in confusion. “Everything?”

“Yeah baby, looks like we’re gonna have to kill some time.” He makes his move, pushing you onto the leather seats and shoving you down. For a moment, you don’t struggle, just a yelp of surprise but Logan can see the realization of what's happening dawn in your eyes. Then, you slap him.

“Big mistake, kid.” Two slaps, one after the other in quick succession, are delivered to your sweet face, letting you know that however you fight, you’ll be punished. “Won’t help yuh to fight, sweetcheeks, only gonna make it worse.” He watches the tears well up in your eyes, your pretty lip quivering, but you don’t fight. You give in. He chuckles. “Well that was easy.”

Logan spreads your legs, grinding his clothed erection over your white underwear, making you whimper. “P-please don’t… I’m sorry, I-I I don’t-”

“Shhhhh, princess…” Logan wipes a tear from your face, nuzzling his beard against your neck. “Just be good for me, this will all be over soon, okay? But be that sweet girl I know you are.”

A dizzy, tired ‘okay’ and Logan leaned back to undo his pants where his crisp white shirt was tucked in. As expected, you simply stayed laid back and didn’t fight or try to get away. Such a good girl. “Take your panties off for me.”

You shake your head. “Don’t make me…”

All he had to do was narrow his eyes at you and you were scrambling to do as he said, making you complicite.

“See? I knew you wanted this.”

Sliding into you was heaven, feeling you clench around him in fear, the tension of your body manifesting in squeezing him cock even as you got wet around him. He was your first, he knew that. Inside himself, he knew that, even if you hadn’t said. Because of course you hadn’t? Who would share that with her driver?

“Fuck princess, look at you…” Logan grunted as he began to thrust, watching your tits in that braless dress bounce. “Taking this old man cock so good, aren’t’cha? Yeah, just look at you…” He grabbed your hair harshly, yanking you up so you were bent over. You scream in pain, but quickly quiet yourself with little sobs instead as he forces you to watch him violating you, entering and withdrawing and entering again until he lets go, letting you flop back once more.

Logan’s cock slams inside you, and Logan bets you can feel him inside you, feel him prodigy at your womb, ready to be bred like a good girl like your deserves.

“Are you on birth control?”

“Y-yes” You cry, covering your face in embarrassment. Are you lying? No, no he can see the little rod in your arm. He grab your tender flesh, and you cry out briefly again as he feels the stupid fucking implant in you, thumbing over it as he growls in frustration. He wanted to get you knocked up, make sure you were the stupid girl who got herself pregnant after he ditched town, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

He gropes your tits through the dress, slapping at the side to make you yelp before moving on downward. You were awfully wet for someone who was crying.

“Poor girl… is the mean old man taking your virginity? I know, I know, I’m the worst.” He swirls a finger over your slicked up clit, making your body jolt. “Fuck, such a sensative girl around you. Been years since I fucked someone so sweet and innocent, you’re -fuuuuuck, princess- you’re every dirty old man’s dream, you know that?”

He felt your cunt tighten at that, and he barks a laugh. “Ha! Don’t think I didn’t feel that, sweet cheeks. That make you hot? You like knowing old creeps think of our naked body while fisting their cocks?”

You cover your face. “No!”

“Princess, don’t fucking lie to me. Come on.” Logan touched your body, knowing he could bring you pleasure, wanting to feel your first orgasm gushing on his cock. “Give it to me, come on this old man cock, be the dirty whore I know you wanna be.”

Your cry into your hands as your body betrays you, orgasming hard enough it pulled his own climax out of him. Even though he knew you wouldn’t get pregnant, Logan loved knowing that he was pumping load after load of his hot seed into your virgin pussy, knowing it would leak out of your for days. Morning after morning you wake up to his cum sliding out of your, reminding you that you’re nothing but a dirty old man's whore.

The whole ride to your penthouse, you laid in the back of the car, never moving from where he left you. When Logan pulled up to the building, he put his arm on the other backrest, looking down at you. “You tell anyone about this,” He let his claws fly out of his fisted hand. You could only flinch, your eyes drooping heavily. “I’ll end you, and whoever you tell. Got it?” Logan waits until you nod. “Good. Now get the fuck out of my car.”

Later…

You lay in bed, staring at your phone though the tears in your eyes. A shower couldn’t wash off the feeling of him in and on you, so you just gave up, stumbling into bed with your most comfortable clothes.

Your screen showed a message your forgot to respond to before getting drunk.

Remy Boo <3: Bon soir, cher. Text me when you’re home so I know you’re safe.

You couldn’t tell him. Logan said he’d kill you and whoever you told… but if you didn’t respond, Remy would pull up to the penthouse and check on you. You did give him a key, and you owed him a response. He was your boyfriend, after all.

You: I’m home!!!! Had a great night with the girls. Im tired. Ttyl.

*************

Thanks so so so much for reading!!!! I might do a part 2 IDK. I kinda wanna see remy finding out what happened and that it was logan of all people.

If you like dark logan, check out my masterlist!

Our Gentle Sins is my logan series rn! I also wrote a lot of joel miller if thats your thing!!!!

Every single like, reblog, and comment means the world o me!

if you want to be tagged in my dark logan, check out my tag list!

If you want more logan bt not dark, check out @romanarose for my normal stuff.

@del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @oldloganslittleslut @shybluebirdninja @hornystan

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taintandviolent · 7 days ago

Text

Regular ; Oz Cobb x Reader

summary: You live in Gotham City and are a waitress at a little hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant. Oz is a regular and you've developed quite the crush on him.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 6.4K | older man/younger woman, semi-established history, making out, cockwarming, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, fingering (female receiving, dirty talk, smut with a teensy bit of plot (but not really).

a/n: to the 99.9999% of my followers... I'm so sorry but I am begging you guys to hear me out about him!!!! I thoroughly expect this to flop, but I needed to write it for my own sanity. absolutely massive thank you to @redravenblogs for beta-reading! banner by @/strangergraphics!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / playlist here / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

Ah, Tuesday night.

In Gotham City, every night is a good night for an Italian restaurant. Especially one that’s been in business since 1964 and acquired a hefty lot of aging locals that know the food is good, and a possibly even longer list of trendy, younger foodies that have heard that food is good because of the aging locals.

There’s also the… criminal side of the patrons. Have a place with delicious food and wine, and Gotham’s elite underground is sure to follow. You’ve seen your fair share of men who look like they’re here to discuss a deal over a good meal, and a number of elected officials with them. You know better than to meddle, though. You just do your job, and hope for a good tip. Usually, you get one.

Tonight, it’s raining. Heavily. Surprise, surprise. People flock in from the street as an escape from the deluge outside and the restaurant is filling up quickly. Your section is about three quarters of the way full, and you’re busy. You hear the door open again, followed by the momentary rush of the sound of tires on wet pavement outside. You straighten up, throwing your glance in the way of the entrance.

There he is. A warm smile spreads across your face as you watch him amble in, shaking the rain from his leather coat. Though his appearances aren’t regular, his habits are. He always sits at the same table in your section, towards the back and next to the corner window. Once he figured out it was in an area you attended to, he never sat anywhere else.

You only know him as Oz, the big sweetheart of a man who comes in and always orders the chicken parmigiana. Says it’s the best in town. After seeing him a few times, and sneakily taking note of his last name, you took it upon yourself to do a little digging and found out that he’s known for running with Falcone’s gang and that he’s also the owner of the elite Iceberg Lounge. You never bring those things up to him in fear of starting a conversation he doesn’t want to finish. It’s really none of your business, anyway. You give him a moment to settle into the booth, but once he does – you’re immediately headed that way.

“There she is,” he starts with a smile, watching you as you make your way over to the table, pulling your order notebook from your apron pocket. “There’s my girl.”

A blush hits your cheek – it does every time. From day one, he flirted with you, harmlessly and has continued it ever since. You’re used to patrons being a little flirtatious, but something about the way Oz does it makes your stomach tighten.

“Buonasera, Oz…” you say, your lips curling into a warm smile. In the year you’ve worked here, you’ve picked up a little Italian, but the appropriate greetings are mandated by management. “How you doin’?”

“Better now.”

You smile again and dip your chin to your chest shyly. He’s always so affectionate, so warm. For being a guy who meddles in Gotham’s seedy underbelly, he’s one of the nicest guys you’ve ever met.

“The usual?”

He nods. “The usual, sweetheart. But gimme’ a side of fettuccine tonight, huh?”

You scribble the order down, and snap your book shut. “You got it.”

“What time you off tonight, doll?”

“Same as every night, Oz. In about an hour.”

“They keepin’ you late every night, huh?”

“Yeah, but a girl’s gotta’ eat.”

He scoffs, shaking his head and shifts in the booth before looking up at you. “I keep tellin’ ya, I could take care uh ya, baby.”

The running joke, but sometimes you wonder if he’s serious. He always tips you generously, alarmingly so, and it’s always put directly in your hand, as though he doesn’t want anyone else knowing that he takes care of your groceries for the week.

“And I keep sayin’ I couldn’t do that to you.”

“Ahh–!” He jerks his head to the side, dismissing those words.

You reach forward to touch his broad shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “Let me put your order in, honey. I’ll be right back with your wine.”

With that, you walk proudly off towards the back, swaying your hips. You can feel Oz’s eyes on you as you go and maybe the way you move is intentional, because you know he’s watching. So, what if it was? Can you really blame a girl for liking the attention?

As you round the corner to the kitchen, you clear your throat and call out to the cooks. Angelo is working tonight, and he’s one of the few guys who knows about your little affinity for Oz. As soon as you pin the ticket, Angelo spins the wheel around, looking at the order. He recognizes it, and gives you a knowing smile.

“Oh, look who’s back, eh?”

“Quiet,” you hush, looking back towards the table. You can’t see it from this angle, but you know he’s there, sitting, probably on his phone, or tapping his big knuckles on the wood of the table.

He looks at the sheet again, noticing the addition, and raises an eyebrow. “Boyfriend’s hungry tonight.”

“Angelo, will you quit it? He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Sugar daddy then, eh?”

You scoff, giving him the finger before reaching for one of the bottles of wine – Oz’s favorite.

You return to his table with a skip in your step. It’s been about a week since you’ve seen him, and you can’t help the giddiness in your gait. As you bump your plush hip into the corner of the table, Oz grins crookedly at you, his gold teeth glinting in the low lighting of the restaurant. You reach into your apron, pulling out a corkscrew.

“So, whatcha’ been up to, Oz?” You say, as you twist the prong into the cork. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Ah, y’know… business as usual.”

He usually gives you an answer like that – something that doesn’t reveal too much about what he does. You wonder if he knows that you’ve looked into him. You suddenly furrow your brow at the cork – it’s being stubborn – and quickly situate the bottle between your legs, squeezing it tight between your thighs. This action isn’t lost on Oz, who watches you with a deeply interested grin, watching how your skirt rides up just slightly at the front, not enough to reveal anything aside from some of your creamy soft thigh flesh. Everything you do is done with such innocence, but there’s no way you don’t know what you’re doing to him, he thinks. After a moment of yanking, the cork finally gives way with a hollow POP and you grip the bottle, bringing it up to the table. You mutter a quiet apology and fill the glass, pulling the bottle back to wipe the edge on your apron.

“Well, it’s good to see you. Always is.”

Someone calls your name from behind you, and it’s one of the other tables, looking for refills. You offer Oz an apologetic smile, and head in that direction. Sadly, you don’t return until his food is ready. He’s extra present tonight; your eyes meet every time you look in his direction, giving him a timid smile and going about your tasks, but your heart flutters with an adoration for the older man. You’re attentive too, and go over to his table a million and a half times to ask how the food is, if he needs anything else.

“Only you, doll.”

You swat playfully at his shoulder, though the little quip has heat pooling in your core. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about him taking you over the table a handful of times; lustfully imagining what his hips would feel like rutting against your ass as he sunk himself inside of you. You constantly wondered what his cock looked like. He was a big man, and you assumed that rang true for all parts of him – but the hunger to find out was terrible.

He’s one of the last ones to leave, lingering as long as he can before it’s considered rude. Tonight, something’s different about him, like something is on his mind, something he wants to say. Each time you’re at his table, he looks like he’s about to ask, but never does. Finally, as you return to clear his table, reaching for the empty plates on his table, he downs the rest of his wine and clears his throat.

“Listen, sweetheart,” he says, pivoting slightly in the booth with some effort. “You uh, you busy after work?”

“N-no.” Your heart is pounding in your chest. You straighten up, holding the stacked plates with one flattened palm.

“Why don’t you come down to the Iceberg Lounge? Unwind a little.”

“Oh, Oz, I’m not much of a clubbing girl.”

There’s a glimmer of disappointment in those dark eyes of his, but he sets his jaw, and gets to his feet. This puts him in your proximity, and you can feel the heat rolling off his large body. Your stomach aches to lean into him, press yourself into his gut, and lace your arms around his neck.

“Just think ‘bout it.” He reaches in his pocket.

The tip he gives you tonight almost makes your knees give way. It feels thicker than usual in your left hand and when your fingers close around the bills, you swallow down the protests. You don’t dare count it, not in front of him or anyone else. You’ve stopped telling him no, or that he doesn’t have to, because it’s almost like it offends him. He always hushes you, and acts like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You tuck it in the pocket of your apron, and swallow hard again.

He smiles and steps around you. Your eyes are glued to the visual of him leaving, watching him through the windows as he limps down the sidewalk. God, you want him. It’s a lethal hunger, something that claws and rips at your insides.

Once the restaurant is empty, you and the rest of the crew make quick work of cleaning up and closing up shop. It’s about forty-five minutes later when you’re slipping your arms into the sleeves of your black, wool overcoat and heading through the door. The rain hasn’t stopped. If anything, it’s gotten worse. You heave a sigh. You’ve got a walk ahead of you, but it’s something you’re used to.

“Doll!”

You stop walking, poised just at the end of the sidewalk. You hoist your bag up on your shoulder and pull your jacket right around your neck, squinting into the rain.

“Oz? That you?” You take a step in that direction, knowing full well it is. Your casual act is embarrassing to you, but you persist, pretending you’re surprised to see him getting out of his car. It’s a nice one, too… a Maserati. Was he… waiting for you?

“Yeah,” he grumbles. “You ain’t walkin’ home in this, are ya?”

“Just to the station,” You defend.

“Nah. C’mon.” He limps around the front of his car, rain splattering against his leather coat. “Lemme’ give ya’ a ride.”

He doesn’t have to ask you twice. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Really. The rain is brutal and you’re cold, a chill settling into your bones. You hurry towards the plum-coloured car, your high heels clacking against the wet pavement as you do. Oz opens and holds the door for you, waiting patiently for you to make your way over. You get in the car gracefully, making sure not to flash him, though, you doubt he’d mind if you did. It’s warm inside, the heat is on, and the leather interior has absorbed some of that heat. You snuggle into the seat, watching in the rearview as Oz makes his way back around the car, and for a moment you’re surrounded by nothing but the sound of rain on the roof and the shlick of the wiper blades as they whisk the droplets off the windshield. The driver’s side door opens, and he tucks himself in. Droplets of rain decorate his shoulders, and he smears his hand over his hair.

“Where to, sweetheart?” He asks, a familiarity in his voice. He’s used to driving people around, but he’d drive you around the whole city if you asked.

“The complex on the corner of 7th and Onyx…” you say, almost sheepishly. Sure, it’s not the best part of town, but your little apartment is cozy, overlooking the city. You imagine he’s used to much nicer, and is probably silently judging the location.

“Oz,” you start, looking at the girth of his fingers as they wrap around the steering wheel. Your mind starts to wander, but you quickly reign it in with a hard blink and an inhalation of breath. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, doll. Anything you want.”

“Were you waiting for me to get off work?”

“Gotta’ look out for my favorite girl, y’know?”

It’s an indirect answer, but an answer all the same. You smile to yourself as he eases his foot into the gas pedal, the car moving forward. His right hand departs from the steering wheel to turn on the radio. Frank Sinatra’s crooning voice fills the inside, and for the rest of the drive, you’re silent, occasionally stealing looks at Oz as he drives. He handles the car beautifully, and you wonder if he handles a woman as well.

Oz is sweet. You know this. Despite his constant heavy flirting at the restaurant, he’s sweet, charming and at times, awkward. Endearingly so. But you aren’t taking pity on him. Your interest in him is purely selfish, driven by your lust for older, dangerous men. You inhale a deep breath and turn your attention to the road. You’re close to home. A few minutes later, he pulls up next to your building and puts the car in park.

You reposition yourself to face him, shifting your feet underneath you. He’s watching you, those smoldering, dark eyes following your every move. Carefully, you lean over the center console, enough to close in the distance between you two and press your lips against his warm, scarred cheek. His aftershave wafts into your nose, and you take a deep breath of it, remembering it. You think you hear his breath hitching.

“That’s for the ride, Oz.”

“Shit, I oughta’ drive you ‘round more often if that’s what it gets me, huh?”

You hesitate a moment, looking into his eyes. There’s that look again – like he wants to ask something. You fill the void with another question.

“Is our chicken parm really the best, or do you just come for me?”

Oz’s thick brows flick up on his forehead and he lets out a throaty chuckle. “Sweetheart...”

“Do you come for me?”

Now he’s really looking at you, squinting at you. Hearing that question repeated has him twitching in his goddamn slacks. He looks out to the rain, then back to you and you’re still staring at him, waiting for an answer.

“If you only fuckin’ knew,” he chokes out.

“Well.. what if I wanna’ know?”

“Doll,” he grins and laughs, almost nervously. It’s loveable and you can’t help but smile, your gaze fixated on his scarred mouth as he speaks. You aren’t staring negatively, quite the contrary. Like everything else unusual about him, you find his scars sexy.

“You don’t gotta’... y’know, do that.”

You smile again, letting your lids close slightly. He thinks you’re doing this because you’re what? Paying him back for all the tips? Treating him like a charity case? Hysterical. If he only knew.

“Answer my question, Oz. What if I wanna’ know?”

He shifts in his seat. Uncomfortable? You can’t tell.

“Then uh… I ain’t gonna’ deny you that. Find out.”

You lean back over, and instead of kissing his cheek, you tilt your head and go for his mouth, your soft, plush lips pressing against his. He doesn’t respond… not right away, at least. He’s stunned, but also trying not to devour you like some goddamned hungry animal. Finally, his lips twitch to life, pressing back against yours.

He ain’t used to this. But, fuck, it feels good.

As his mouth opens, his large hand comes up to the side of your face, holding you where you’re at. The cool chill of the band of his ring is a stark contrast against the warmth of his digits. His fingertips graze the edge of your hairline, massaging gently. The taste of his tongue in your mouth is intoxicating, the wine lingering on his breath mingles with his own personal notes. You let an open-mouthed moan fall from your throat, into his, and he reciprocates, moving his body slightly towards you. Your tongue slips along his bottom lip, pausing to nibble at it softly. He groans deep, his eyes rolling back in his head. You’re getting him stiff, worked up and all you’re fuckin’ doin’ is kissin’ him.

This is getting heavy. You feel your own arousal burning between your legs, a fiery, throbbing heartbeat that gets more incessant the longer his tongue is in your mouth, tasting you. Oz is practically taking you in mouthfuls, and your hand crawls over the center console, just far enough that your fingernails scrape against the fabric of his slacks, over his thigh. A desperate attempt to get closer to him without just straddling him in his front seat.

A deep rumble of thunder and a crack of lightning pulls you two from each other. You lurch away, panting, and look out through the front windshield. The rain comes down harder, and you can hardly make out the outlines of the buildings in front of you.

“I should… probably go inside before this gets any worse.”

You aren’t sure if you’re talking about the rain or the mutual arousal. Maybe both. He clears his throat in response; he wants to tell you that you’re a cruel woman, leaving him like this, but with the taste of you still on his tongue, he ain’t about to push his luck and get greedy. He unlocks the doors from the panel on his left. You open the door and get out, dragging your bag with you. You lean back inside, looking at him with dreamy, half-lidded eyes.

“I’ll see you, Oz. Thanks for the ride.”

But not the kiss? You cringe at your words. There’s that look again – but this time, you know he wants to ask you if you’re coming down to the Lounge later. You know it, and you’ve already made up your mind.

Instead, he shrugs with both of his shoulders. “Sure, sweetheart. Any time. I mean that.”

With butterflies in your stomach, you exit the car, and shut the door, careful not to slam it. You hold your purse above your head as you run to the front door and you hear the roar of Oz’s engine as he speeds off. The second you’re inside, you kick off your heels at the door and hurry to the back of the apartment. You flip the lightswitch, illuminating the modest bedroom. You pull the dress from the back of your closet, half expecting a cloud of dust to come with it.

Thank god it still fits.

You catch a cab downtown, which is much less luxurious than your previous ride. It drops you off in front, and the line to get in stretches down the length of the building. You knew it was a popular place, but you hadn’t expected this. The rain, nor the fact that it’s a Tuesday evening, deters these patrons – whatever’s inside must really be something. You pull your dress down your thighs, and walk carefully up onto the sidewalk. Deciding to try your luck with the bouncers, you bypass the line, trying not to look at anyone to your right. If you stand in line, you won’t be inside for hours.

Two men – identical twins – stand in front of the door.

“Can we help you?” One of them asks, sternly. You don’t take offense, they’re only doing their job.

“Um…” You blurt out your name, adding, “Oz asked me to come.”

One of the men speaks into a small mic attached to the lapel of his jacket, covering it with his hand. It’s only a moment before one of them opens the door and the music goes from muffled to booming, vibrating your bones. You mutter a quick thanks, and step inside, feeling like you’ve just cheated the system. The visual that meets you truly overwhelms you at first, and you hesitate.

It’s a staggeringly massive venue, filled with undulating bodies. The building itself is industrial in nature, all steel and flashing red lights. The dance floor stretches as far as your eyes can see, a literal sea of human beings, all grinding against each other, feeling the music in their veins. You stand, stunned at the start of the crowd, unsure of where to go.

After a moment, you lift your gaze and your eyes meet for the hundredth time that night. Oz stands on the second floor, on almost a catwalk above the crowds. He looks like he did at the restaurant, save for the leather jacket which was replaced by a white suit jacket; he’s wearing the same purple shirt and black slacks. Your shoulders relax, knowing that whatever happens next will be something you remember for the rest of your life.

He doesn’t make it a secret of how he’s checking you out, a devilish sneer on his face. He’s only ever seen you in your waitress outfit, which let it be known, is sexy enough on its own, but this plunging number that gives him a peek at your cleavage, and hugs your hips in ways he could only dream of… He deepens his grin and jerks his head to the side, urging you up. You follow his gaze and clock the staircase to your left. You make a beeline for it, holding the chain of your purse in a fist and climb the steel staircase carefully, until you get to the platform that Oz is standing on.

“Hi!” You shout over the pulsing music. You’re giddy, like a schoolgirl. It’s embarrassing, really.

“I gotta’ be honest, doll, I didn’t think I’d see you.” he confesses, leaning into your ear. His voice is rough, but enticing. He pulls back, gauging your reaction. You stare at him for a moment, saying nothing, prolonging the moment and torturing him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and your eyes flick down to watch. Something he does a lot, you notice.

“What?” you ask, leaning into him. “After what happened in the car?”

When you pull back to look at him, there’s a bemused smile on your face. Confident. Cocky. Like there was an unspoken contest of who would mention it first and you won. He shrugs lightly, huffing out a laugh. You reach for his cheek, palming it softly. Oz keeps his composure, even though inside, he wants to lean into it and whimper like a dog. He’s glad he doesn’t though.

“I’m the one who kissed you, remember? It’s not like you did anything to offend me, Oz.” you coo.

“I ‘spose not, huh?”

You nod, slowly, coyly.

“The chicken parm,” he says suddenly, shrugging with his hands. “It ain’t bad. But I guess you’ve figured out the real reason why I come there, huh?”

You laugh brightly, looking over the railing at the throngs of people below you, neon red lights washing over them in time with the music. You smile softly, feeling special. It’s not every day that you get private access to an elite club in Gotham City and get to schmooze with the owner.

“Come upstairs with me.” Feeling like your attention is drifting from him, Oz takes your hand, guiding you in the direction of yet another flight of stairs. Your eyes trail up the steps; they lead to a loft, glass windows on every side.

You’re stone cold sober, so you can’t blame the alcohol, but the second you’re in his office, above the crowds, above it all, you’re on him like a bear on honey. Your hands smear over his chest, fingers grazing through the hair that peeks out from his open shirt. He smells like cigars and an expensive cologne that you take lungfuls of.

“You're an eager girl, aren’t ya?”

“Yeah, Oz… I am.” You reply breathlessly, kissing a path along his bottom lip and chin.

“How long have you felt this way, huh?”

You finally pull back, and lick your lips, watching him intently. You knew he was a talker from the restaurant, always chatting. But right now, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him. “Uhm…” Your chest heaves visibly, and Oz has to fight to keep his eyes on yours. “The first or second time you came into Bellini…”

“Ah, c’moooon!” he says, incredulously.

“No, I’m serious!” You laugh a little, moving your head to try and keep Oz’s gaze. He looks off behind you for a moment, and when he returns his attention to you, his expression is serious.

“Chicks like you don’t go after guys like me –”

You bristle and take his face in your hands. “Chicks like me? What do you know about chicks like me, Oz? You think you’ve got it all figured out, huh?”

He sidesteps that with another question. “What, you like older guys or somethin’?”

“They’re better…” You say in between tiny kisses. “They know better. They’re more experienced. Guys my age…” You pause to run a finger along his lip. “They don’t know how to take care of women.”

Oz smiles. It’s a dirty, devious smile, and it sends a pulse to your core. There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, and he brings his hand up to the curve of your shoulder. “You want me to take care of ya, baby? Is that what you’re sayin’?”

You nod. A little too enthusiastically, maybe.

“It’s a busy club, sweetheart.” He says, almost nonchalantly, as though his slacks aren’t tenting in between both of you.

But… he has a point. You hum quietly.

“Later, then? Give me a tour of the club and – “ Your voice trails off because Oz looks like he’s just gotten an idea. He smirks, and his hand grips your hip, pulling you close to his gut. “What?”

“How’s about you sit on it, huh?”

Your head turns, gaze heavily resting on the room across the way. You assume it’s for the dancers of the club. Whatever it is – it’s right there. You glance at it nervously, and your expression reads strong, apparently, because Oz chuckles next to you, and brings his hand to your jaw, forcing it back in his direction.

“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me. It’s okay. They ain’t gonna’ know a thing.”

His hand drops from your jaw to your waist, where his thumb swipes circles over your dress. His hand sweeps around to the back, where your skin is exposed, and begins stroking patterns over the skin, igniting tiny fires wherever he touches. You lean forward, pressing your mouth against his again, hungry for his taste again. After a few minutes, Oz pulls away, ending the foreplay. He turns and ambles to the leather sofa angled in front of the window and you follow, taking slow, careful steps. One foot in front of the other.

Once he’s seated, you lift your dress just enough to grip the delicately stretchy lace of your panties on either side, and carefully pull them down the curve of your ass. Oz is watching, his brown eyes locked on the tantalizing visual in front of him. You discard them on the sofa cushion, not thinking about where they land. Oz watches though, and his large hand snakes out, fisting them and discreetly tucking them into the pocket of his slacks. If you asked, he would’ve told you that he didn’t want anyone fuckin’ seein’ ‘em. The reality was that his perversions were too loud, and he was going to take a token of this dream he was experiencing.

Oz reaches down, unlatching his slacks, and pulling the zip down just enough to reach in and pull his aching cock free. As you lower yourself, he lines it up, watching intently. You whimper his name, feeling the cockhead nudge your entrance.

“Easy, sweetheart, easy. That’s it, nice n’ slow.” He licks his lips.

At first, you nestle yourself down onto his thick cock gradually. The fat, leaking head pops in first, sending a shockwave through your core. Your breath hitches in your throat, and instead of sliding yourself down his shaft slowly, with a huff, you slam your ass down hard. You’re sitting all the way down on Oz’s wide lap, stuffing the rest of him in. He’s thicker than he is long, but god, it’s everything you thought it would be. He vocalizes, surprised at your determination. You still, letting your walls accommodate the girth of the man beneath you.

“Hoo, baby...”

The tiniest little movements have him clenching his jaw, hissing through his teeth. And then… with his hand casually holding onto your hip, Oz starts to rut his hips up into you. It’s just enough to rock your body up and down and move his cock inside you.

He grunts underneath you, his grasp tightening on the satin of your dress. He craves skin, and his hand slides into the space between your dress and your back. You can’t help but let out the tiniest of whimpers at the feeling of being so full – you don’t remember the last time you were stretched like that. Your dress pools, hanging heavy between your legs and concealing your leaking core.

Abruptly, the collective sound of high heels approaches, and your eyes snap up to the glass windows. A group of girls crowds the room parallel, and the second one of them spots you two, they’re heading your way. Oz stops moving.

“Alright… quiet, doll.” He slaps your hip a few times. It’s a warning, and one you immediately heed, straightening up, tucking your hips into a more natural sitting position. His cock twitches inside you, and you swallow back the noise that bubbles up your throat.

“Ozzy,” the girls coo in unison. One of them has a martini in her hand and asks who you are. God, they’re all so beautiful, you think. Insecurity threatens, but the stretching between your legs calms it.

Leaning to the side to meet their gaze, he tells them your name, proudly – the bastard – and you wave, sheepishly, trying not to allude to the fact that Oz’s girthy cock is buried inside you. Maybe they know. Maybe he’s done this before. You swallow hard, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“We was just havin’ a meeting. She’s thinkin’ of workin’ here.” A bold faced lie, but it distracts the women from looking too hard at the scene in front of them. They all titter excitedly, delighted by the prospect of having another friend to play with.

“Oz takes real good care of us,” one of them chimes in, earnestly. “You’d love it here.”

You clench around his cock as hard as you can, your internal muscles squeezing him in a vice. You smile as naturally as you can at the girls as Oz continues speaking casually. The man’s poker face must be insane because he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t give away a single thing.

“Alright, alright. Girls, what am I payin’ ya for, huh? Get down there.”

In a flurry of nods and apologies, the women disperse, heading back down to the throbbing club below them. The sound of their high heels clicking down the stairs fades away, replaced by the dull, muffled thrumming of the music below. As soon as you two are alone again, Oz bucks his hips up into you hard, almost painfully, pulling a low groan from your throat.

“Tell me how good that feels, sweetheart. Tell me.” The roughness of his voice, the harshness of his accent makes everything sound intense, but the desperation in which he asks that isn’t lost on you. He’s practically begging you to tell him, revealing a deep-rooted hunger for praise. You wet your throat, and lean your head back onto his shoulder, bringing your hand up around to the back of his wide neck; the flesh is warm and damp with sweat.

“It feels so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Y-yeah…” You close your eyes, wincing slightly at the way his cock bullies you and stretches you open. “So good, Oz. I’ve thought about this… so many times.”

His hips rut up into you, finding a hungry, incessant rhythm and your slick walls clench around him. The action brings a choking grunt from his mouth, and your ego swells with the control. An idea blossoms. You straighten up; setting your hips and grinding them back and forth on his lap. Beneath you, Oz moans, his grip on you tightening. You feel his large body shudder, and a cocky smile curls its way around your lips.

“You like that, Oz? You like me fucking you like that?”

He nods, breathlessly, reaching up to palm the sweat that drips into his brow.

“Tell me,” you whisper, arching your body against his.

“I l-like the way you’re fuckin’ me. It feels real fuckin’ good… ” He grumbles, pleased. “Feelin’ that tight pussy uh yours… like heaven, doll.”

You whine at that, loving the way it sounds coming from his mouth. Your hips gyrate, continuing their ruthless pattern on his cock. His hand strays from your hip and juts between your legs, finding your cunt. His thick fingers slip between your folds, stroking you just enough to drive your orgasm closer to the edge. You whimper, tossing your head back.

Oz’s gaze drops from your back to your ass, watching as the flesh swells when you push back against him. God damn. It’s a perfect fuckin’ view, and he sucks in a deep breath. Every muscle in his body tightens, even if he ain’t ready for that.

“Aw, fuck–” he grunts, low. Deep in his stomach, his muscles clench, trying hard to stave off the oncoming orgasm. His eyes open, focusing on the ceiling, the sound of the music, anything except for the way you’re ridin’ him. It ain’t workin’, because he feels his whole body tense up. Fuck.

His hand goes slack between your legs and you grit your teeth, bringing your brows together in a pained expression. The dual stimulation was nice, but the way his cock massages your walls, stretching them out and filling you in a way that has you gasping is enough to drive you mad. You’re thankful that the music is so loud beneath you, because your desperate mewls and whines are getting higher and higher in pitch. Oz mutters something, something filthy about filling you and you drive your hips back against him. And with that, he loses it. He thrusts his hips up into you a few times, with a frenzied sort of desperation. You feel the heat painting your insides, coating your walls in his ecstasy. Underneath you, Oz’s thrusts have turned languid and lazy. He’s silently justifying the too-quick orgasm with the fact that he had to; anyone could’ve walked in at any time. It had nothing to do with the fact that he’s been like a slobbering dog for you for months.

Chest heaving, your hips continue rutting back and forth, and Oz shifts underneath you, still panting heavily. It’s tender, but he doesn’t complain. His thrusts continue to slow and you desperately reach between your legs, tapping his hand back to life. “D-don’t stop Oz, please… don’t stop…”

Behind you, Oz chuckles under his breath and straightens up, having sunk back into the sofa a little too far when he lost it. His thick index finger strokes your clit upwards, and a shiver rips through your body. The coil in your stomach winds tighter as you settle into the oncoming feeling. Still full of him, your slick walls shudder around his cock as the first wave hits. The coil snaps, your thighs clamp shut around his hand, and you look down, sighing loud as he continues flicking between your folds. One of your hands is situated on his thigh, and the other comes to grip his wrist, feeling the cuban link chain beneath your palm.

“That’s it, sweetheart… that’s it…” As you ride it out, bucking your hips against his groin, he coaxes you through your orgasm, both vocally and with the way he massages your clit, the pad of his index finger pressing into it. You can hear the pride in his voice, it’s absolutely dripping with it. “Atta’ girl. Feels fuckin’ good, don’t it?”

You try to speak, but nothing comes out. You furiously nod your head as your legs begin to tremble. He doesn’t stop, and your immediate reaction is to dig your nails into the flesh of his hand, silently begging.

“You good, doll?”

“Y-yeah. I’m… wow.”

Oz removes his hand from between your legs, and strokes the side of your thigh, gently. Tenderly. For a moment, you stay like that, just enjoying all of the post-coital sensations. Eventually, you get to your feet, curious about how the patrons downstairs are faring. Speaking of dripping… You swallow hard, and press your thighs together.

While still in front of Oz, you straighten yourself out, pulling your dress back down over your hips. Now, you’re suddenly aware of the throbbing beat beneath your feet and make your way over to the window.

“How about that tour?” You ask, running a nail along the glass that overlooks the dancefloor below you. After a few moments, you feel Oz’s presence behind you, his stomach pressing into the curve of your back.

“I thought you weren’t a clubbin’ girl…” he murmurs throatily, in between kisses to your neck. You tilt your head, allowing more space for him to smother.

“Well,” you confess, honesty tinging your voice. “I’m not. But it’s not every day you get invited to the most elite nightclub in Gotham City.” You shrug. “Might as well.”

#i am so hysterically down bad for this man.... he is terrible and i hate him for what he's done but i also wanna [redacted]#nobody fucking look at me #Oz Cobb x reader #Oswald Cobb x reader #The Penguin x reader #Oz Cobb #oswald cobblepot x reader #Oswald Cobb #Farrell Penguin #myfics #x reader #reader insert #female reader #fem reader #The Penguin HBO #The Penguin

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settingmyheartablaze · 6 months ago

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not even close - t. inumaki x reader

———————————————————————————

The sunrise was beginning to turn the sky from its slumbering ebony to a soft pink, and the chilly spring air whisked through the blossoms that fluttered beneath it.

Standing on a street corner was a slowly accumulating huddle of the Tokyo as well as Kyoto’s students, who had been dual-assigned to a particularly nasty bunch of curses. The schools had decided it was a good idea to begin intermingling the two in hopes of fostering more collaboration and teamwork. While a few of them had been less than thrilled at the proposal, it seemed others had found it to be a stroke of luck.

“I think I should make my move,” Todo said in utter infatuation as he stood beside Panda and Maki at the corner, watching your legs idly swing off the bench you were perched on.

You were sat a few feet away with Nobara and Itadori stood directly in front of you, chatting your ear off rather animatedly for so early in the morning. Maki followed his eyes to your figure, who smiled warmly at your friends with eyes still puffed from sleep as the two carried on.

Glancing back at Todo with a smirk, she scoffed.

“Good luck getting her attention.”

Panda giggled in agreement, and Todo cocked his head in confusion. He let out a haughty laugh. “I think I know how to get a girl’s attention, especially when the competition is those two dopes.”

Maki’s brow raised slyly, and then it seemed something behind Todo’s shoulder caught her attention. “Those dopes aren’t the ones you need to worry about.”

Todo frowned in confusion, glancing back over at you. In fact, the closer he looked, he’d say that despite your polite smile and responses, you didn’t seem particularly focused on the two in front of you. It might have just been the lasting sleepiness, but it almost seemed as if you were glancing about, looking for something else — or someone.

Todo looked back to Maki and Panda. “What do you mean—”

He turned at the sound of footsteps behind him, and Inumaki strolled up leisurely, rubbing sleep from the eyes peeking up just above his coat with a grumble. His usual smooth hair was a tousled mess, and he looked about one shove away from crashing down on the sidewalk. He held what looked to be a warm cup of coffee steaming up from his hands, but if he’d had any of it, it didn’t seem to help one bit. It was a pretty amusing sight, and Todo snickered at seeing him in such a vulnerable state.

As he approached the three of them, Inumaki tossed Maki a small bag that she eagerly snatched up with hungry eyes. Peeking into the bag with satisfaction, she jerked her thumb back over her shoulder. ‘She’s over there.”

“What’s that?” Panda asked.

Maki licked her lips, pulling a fresh muffin from the bag. “Payment for my services.”

Todo watched, dumbfounded as Inumaki made his way towards your group.

The moment you’d caught him approaching in your peripheral, you turned sharply and a blush flooded your cheeks. You did a horrible job at hiding the smile now blooming on your face, and it was so bright Todo thought he was about to be blinded.

“Toge, there you are!” You chirped happily.

Amidst the flurry of mumbled greetings he received from the group, Inumaki paid nobody else any mind, heading straight for the spot beside you on the bench and plopping down, silently handing you the cup in his hand.

Todo didn’t think your cheeks could have pinked any more, but it seemed he was wrong.

“What? For me?” You asked softly.

The boy beside you grunted out something reminiscent of ‘salmon’ before his head hit your shoulder. His eyes closed right away, and you smiled warmly with eyes wide in suprise.

“This is my favorite shop! How’d you know?” You took a sip and your legs stomped softly on the ground in excitement.

Inumaki waved a hand haphazardly, too tired and far too comfortable (and maybe just a bit too shy) to reach for his phone and reveal his informant.

Todo watched in complete and utter defeat as you slowly coaxed Inumaki to awaken with your gentle voice while you all awaited the rest of your classmates, insisting he share the drink with you as he quietly listened to you chatter. His soft gaze didn’t once leave yours, completely enraptured by you and the rather strange dream you were recounting from the night prior.

“And then you told Gojo-sensei to shit himse — Oh, that reminds me.” Your amused recount paused, and your hand reached in your pocket to pull out a small bottle of throat medicine. “You forgot this in my room.”

Todo’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “How long have they been going out?” He whined.

Maki rolled her eyes as if she’d been asked that question a thousand times. “Wouldn’t we all like to know?” Her voiced was laced with irritation and a mouthful of muffin. “They think they’re just friends.”

Watching at the way you two looked at each other, Todo was baffled. You two weren’t friends — not even close.

#inumaki x reader #inumaki #jjk #jjk x reader #toge inumaki #toge x reader #jjk oneshot #oneshot #toge inumaki x reader #jujutsu Kaisen

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iluvmorales · 1 year ago

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12:15am , E-42 Miles

Summary Miles just really needs his lover

a/n none

warnings mentions of threats, near death experience, death, trauma (?) angst w love/fluff

‘come over’

Was all the text read, sent at 12:15. Miles had a tendency of getting home late from his job, but when it was past 11, it usually meant something went wrong.

It didn’t even take a minute for you to grab your coat, throw on the hood and head out the door. You took the elevator down and took a late night cab to the place, seeing as how it was dangerous for a girl to walk the streets at night since they could, and most likely would fall victim to lots of crimes.

You tipped the driver, before stepping out infront of the building only for Mrs. Morales to open the door and let you in with a smile, but worried expression on her face.

“Hola mija..” you smiled at her softly; “Hola, ¿El está bien?” You asked, not speaking too loudly. She just shook her head; “Yo no sé mija, he just- won’t talk to me” she sounded worried as she lead you up the stairs and into their apartment.

“Talk to him, por favor Mija” she held one of your hands between both of hers, with a pleading look in her eyes. “Of course” you placed yours on top of hers squeezing before turning to go into miles’ room.

You didn’t even knock, simply opening the door and closing it behind you. The room was pitch black, the only light coming from the moon as this side of town was always dark. “Miles?” You whispered, trying your best to find his figure.

Then you heard rustling in the bed, and miles peaked his head out. “Vida mia,..¿Que paso?” You cooed, making your way to the bed and sitting next to him.

He only turned to face you, tired eyes boring into yours. “Nada..pero I just really need you right now” he mumbled, arms snaking around you and pulling you closer so that his face was now in your lap.

Your heart pounded, but ached at the sight of how exhausted he looked. You lightly tapped him making motions for him to sit up, to which he did, slowly. He gave you a questioning hm, his eyes still giving you that same look.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you’re worrying us all. At least tell me something, anything” your hands on his neck and cheek, caressing him as if he’d break.

He sighed and closed his eyes; he swallowed the lump in his throat thinking about the situation earlier that night. “They..almost had me today” You could hear the pain in his voice, and the way his face twisted when he thought about it.

You wrapped your arms around him, legs now sprawled out across the bed as you pulled him in. “Oh miles..” was all you could get out, holding him so tightly. He almost died today, and it was a possibility it could happen again. “just the thought of loosing you..fuck” you squeezed him, tears threatening to spill.

His arms were now hooked under yours, holding you. “I’m sorry mamí” was all he could mumble, a tear now falling down his cheek.

“It’s not your fault miles, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you” you loosened your grip, rubbing circles on his back, and one hand coming up to wipe the tear from his face.

It was rare miles let you treat him like this, ever since his father passed he believed it was his job to provide and protect, take the role of “the man of the house”. He forced himself to grow up faster.

“I’m just so glad you’re okay” you mumbled, placing a kiss at the top of his braids. You both laid there staring at the night sky from his window.

Miles enjoyed the feeling of being held and comforted, being cared for. But he knows sooner or later he’d go back to the role he played, and have to tell you the truth.

the truth being how they held him at gunpoint, retrained, then threatened to kill you if he ever, stepped out of line again.

#spider verse #across the spiderverse #earth 42 #miles morales prowler #animals #architecture #miles morales x reader #prowler!miles x reader #miles morales #prowler!miles

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theredcuyo · 5 months ago

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Huh

You know those AU/fics where the kids met earlier?, like, Dick is just old enough for Damian to be a baby kind of situation and somehow they all met and get adopted within no time from each other and all that

Well, i think the perfect dynamic for a fic will be this one:

Dick

He wasn't happy at first. At all. He went from a life of a single child to older brother of like 4 or 5 now?? In like, less than a year.

He didn't even have time to adjust to Jason before he found little Tim following him around in patrol. Not time to get around that little stalker child before Jason found a lost girl in need of help who couldn't talk. No time to even get a hold of signs when Talia came to drop a baby on Bruce.

The worst part? While he can't get around it, because he's still dealing with his grief, and anger, and why does it seem like B gets tired of his last child every week, where does that leave me, And why do this kids that i barely know look at me with eyes that say they'll follow me to hell and back-

That's the thing, his new sibblings follow him like newborn duckies, they observe and copy, and do everything he does except to leave him alone. And he's not sure how to feel about it.

He's overwhelmed with all the attention, with how this house that used to be silent has become anything but that.

And also, he can't go up to the chandeliers now. The babys try to follow behind him and he knows that non experienced people shouldn't do that. That also sucks.

Wally is making fun of him. That's one sibbling for every time you complained about not having any, he says.

He gets used to them as time goes on tho, he couldn't imagine a day without Jason coming to his room to tell him an over the top sight into the book he mentioned to have to read for class.

He can't imagine not to see tiny Tim bright up every time they see each other in the hallway.

He even forgets to actually talk sometimes instead of signs because Cass just wants to spend so much time with him and they both practice the signs a lot.

Damian is the weirdest baby ever, but he's the only member in the family who doesn't complain about being hugged for long times, at least not yet, so that's cool.

Jason

He's just happy to be here.

He didn't knew what exactly a family was, and when he found out there was another kid there, he felt a bit more safe, they could team up if it was necessary to protect themselves against the adults.

The closest thing he had to sibblings before where other kids in the streets that helped each other out, the older kids got jobs at convenience stores and sometimes they'll leave out food for them, you had to protect the youngest.

He was happy to have an older brother, and Dick clearly knew what he was doing, so everything was good.

And then he found Tim inside a trash can when he was allowed in a recon mission. He was so, so tiny, like the other kids he had met, and he knew the little thing needed protection from the world. He also had a camera with pictures of B and Robin, and that was probably important.

But whatever, two sibblings instead of none now had to be a jackpot! He did feel bad sometimes about B getting tired of him because of Tim, but, at the same time, he loved that little gremlin so much he could forget about it.

Until he wasn't so sure when Tim found a lost girl wandering around town. (He isn't Even allowed to go out alone, whats wrong with him?) don't take him wrong, Cass is great, she joins them in pranks and in spying on Dick, but she also doesn't let him forget that she's older than him (just a few months damn it!) but it's just-

She's just so much better than him too. She can't read, he has her on that, but that's all. She's stronger than him (she beated his ass in training at least twice now), she's faster, she doesn't cause problems, She's smarter than him for fucks sake.

So, why-

Why would B still want him around with this kind of upgrade?

It's not like he can ask tho, B is been very busy since that lady came to give him a baby. Literally.

And, sure, Damian is a weird ass baby, the only one he's seen that doesn't cry for most things. But he likes the little guy, he just hopes he'll still be here by the time he learns how to walk.

Tim

Tim didn't expect to be caught. He also didn't expect for it to be the new kid who found him, and as if there was anything else to surprise him with, said child auto proclamed himself as his big brother from now on.

He didn't knew if his parents will like that, because the didn't like children, not even him sometimes, but when they came back the next week and the police arrested them for working with black mask and tax evasion they didn't even ask to see him, or tried to when he reached out, so he couldn't ask.

Jason did become his brother tho, when Mr. Wayne adopted him after that, the same Mr. Wayne he knew was Batman. Huh.

Well, anything was better than an empty house, and now Robin was his-

OH GOD ROBIN IS HIS OLDER BROTHER NOW.

FUCK HIS PARENTS. HE LIVES WITH HIS HERO NOW. HE WILL OUT AS MANY CRIMES OF THEM AS NECESSARY.

Tim was overjoyed to know this. Everything was nice, Dick was cool, he didn't talk much with them, but he's Robin, nothing's cooler than that.

And Jason does spend time with him, he loves beating his ass in maro kart.

And then he found Cass when he went out to buy a new camera, he wasn't allowed to go out alone, but it wouldn't be for long, they wouldn't notice surely.

They did notice, but the good thing was that it saved him from taking Cass home on his own.

She's nice too. He never had a sister (or brother too) before, but he likes her, she helps him find hide spots around the manor.

Who he doesn't like a bit is the baby. That Demon spawn.

First he appears out of nowhere. Second, he only seems to cry when someone is talking to Tim.

What is wrong with that thing.

He also follows him around for some reason, and grabs his shirt, but if Tim tries to look at him or hold him he cries. Really, what's wrong with this baby?

Like, sure, Bruce did have him by accident, and so did Tim's parents, but the fact that Damian's did want to keep him around and pay attention to him didn't give him any right to be like this.

It's not like he's better than them, B adopted them all out of a sense of duty.

Cass

Suddenly, communicating is a thing.

If she has something to say it's that she's happy. She got a baby brother, two actually. And a Big brother. And then a very baby brother.

And a Dad that loves her. And a granpa that feeds her anything she wants except for burgers. But dad buys her a burger in the secret if she tells him.

She likes spying on Big brother. She likes learning to read with baby brother big, and to hide with baby brother tiny.

She likes to stare at very baby brother. He stares back.

So everything is good.

She's happy.

Damian

Baby Damian tolerates his family. He let's Dick hug him, and Jason carry him around talking about who knows what until he falls sleep.

And gets into staring contests with Cass.

But the one he really likes is Tim. He likes to have his attention, and he doesn't like when he doesn't have it.

But he also doesn't like to fully have it, he gets overwhelmed.

Basically, baby Damian wants Tim's attention but not too much.

The family also makes a bet on who will make Damian laugh first.

They all lose when it's Tim, even Tim loses because he had all his money on Dick.

Because apparently, his presence comforts him when he misses Talia.

#batman #batman au #batfamily #good dad bruce wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson #robin #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #cassandra cain #alfred pennyworth #so #this #may write it in the future #may not #someone else can if they want to

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lustspren · 2 years ago

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STARBOY EP 3. Earned It ft Kazuha.

length: 13.3k words.✦

Nakamura Kazuha & Male Reader.

genres: slutty brat¡ kazuha, bdsm, daddy kink, angry sex, public sex, dirty talk, hard sex, face fuck, creampie, blowjob, oral ✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

It was a pretty typical stereotype that men hate going shopping with a woman, and you certainly couldn't deny it, most of your friends in the past hated it, but for some reason you enjoyed it. And of course you more than anyone knew the reason.

Having Heejin as a shopping partner was undoubtedly an experience that was anything but boring, wherever you followed her she would attract you with a bright and fun aura that you couldn't even get tired of, no matter what she did. You didn't want to jump to conclusions too quickly, but maybe you were somewhat, just a little, in love with her. Of course this wasn't even a hidden feeling in you, the connection you had with that girl was more than special, she was like your other half, and your safe place, not to mention that without her you were literally living on the street right now. You owed a lot to her, and this was the least you could do to repay her for everything she has done for you.

That day you had gone out exclusively to buy clothes to remodel almost your entire closet. You needed it more than she did, but still most of the stops you were having were because of her. Right now you were at a Fendi store, which was in the mall a few blocks from your building. Your job was simple, you had to answer yes or no every time she came out of the fitting room with a new item of clothing to find out if she bought it or not. You were already full of bags, in which you could be easily buried, but even so, it didn't seem enough to her. At least it was a nice enough place to wait, otherwise you would have been overwhelmed with so many things to keep an eye on.

Miss Lee had been giving you fashion advice for a few days, in your last session she forced you to try on multiple different outfits, each one with clothes from brands that until weeks ago you could only see on instagram or pinterest. She let you keep all the clothes that you liked, but still she ordered you to update your closet as fast as you could, and so you did. This day you were wearing a blue Ralph Lauren sweater tucked into champagne Zara pants, vanilla Balenciaga Triple S shoes and a blue Patek watch, you were completely unaware of the exact model, surely Sunmi would know, but you were new to all of that. Most importantly, you'd killed two birds with one stone, you pleased your boss, and finally shaken off the judgmental stares of everyone around you while still feeling comfortable with yourself.

While you were sitting on a sofa looking at twitter on your phone Heejin came out of the changing room and looked your way, she was wearing a whole complete outfit: a strappy champagne corset, brown wide leg pants with pink striped plaid pattern, and white pointed heels, all complemented by rectangular sunglasses and a brown velvet handbag with the Fendi buckle in the middle.

The first thing you thought was that she looked incredibly hot with that corset that highlighted her breasts and prominent shoulders, but when you thought a little more you couldn't help noticing something very important.

"Wait wait wait wait, you know how much is that handbag, right?" you said, pointing at it with your finger still glued to the phone.

"Uhm… how much?" she asked innocently.

"1.400 bucks. I saw it just now."

"Oh..." she looked at the bag for a few seconds, in all directions, and then saw it hanging on her arm, "but can we take it or not?" she said finally, with a smirk and a tilt of her head.

You brought your fingers to your septum and closed your eyes to let out a long breath, knowing you had no choice.

"Sure, take it," you finally said, looking up at her again.

"Yaaay!" she clapped excitedly for a moment, "and how about the outfit? Yes or no?"

"It's definitely a yes," you held up your thumb.

"I knew it!" she jumped towards you and cupped your face to steal a kiss from you. She then turned back to the dressing room, leaving you alone again.

As soon as Heejin entered the dressing room, your phone's screen turned on showing the message that just arrived. You unlocked your phone, and sighed as you read the entire message.

Japan Justice Minister, you went over it several times in your head. You didn't know why, but you had the feeling that everything was escalating way too fast, you went from fucking a CEO, then a shareholder, and now the daughter of a Japanese politician. And you, well, you were just a lucky guy. As usual, the intrusive thoughts and your anxiety took over again for a few minutes. This time the pressure was twice as strong as when Sunmi or Tiffany, on top of that, you were going to face a girl who was going to potentially drive you out of your mind in a bad way, and your tolerance was something, you would say quite limited. You didn't know how spoiled she was, but your protocol (which you just made up just now) for girls like that was very simple: don't give them what they want.

You waited a few minutes for Heejin, and when she came out, she was dressed in the same clothes she had worn to come to the mall in the first place.

"That's it! Let's pay," Heejin said, checking that she had all the clothes she had tried on, "Uhm, is something wrong?" she asked, noticing that you were chewing on your thumbnail with a blank stare.

"I have to go, Miss Lee wants to see me so I can meet my next client," you said, still staring at nothing.

"And what is the problem?" she stood in front of you.

"The girl in question is the daughter of a minister of justice," when you said it you couldn't help but let out a small incredulous laugh.

"Oof. Big fish..."

"Aha, it still seems fucking surreal to me, to be honest, but I guess that's the way it is now," you sighed, then looked at her, "I'll have to get used to it. Let's go," you nodded to the cashier and you got up.

When you paid for the clothes, the first thing you did was count everything you were carrying, to make sure nothing was missing, and it wasn't until then that you realized that you were carrying a somewhat exaggerated number of bags, so exaggerated that you even doubted that they were even going to fit in the elevator with you. You put your mind to plot for a moment to try to calculate how much you had spent on all that, but if you started counting everything you were probably going to arrive late for your meeting with Sunmi, and that wasn’t an option, so you just took out your phone to call the taxi and then take as many bags as you could in your two hands, just like Heejin.

"What could be the daughter of a Japanese politician here in Korea?" Heejin asked as you walked towards the exit.

"I don't know," you shrugged, "but Miss Lee told me they were in a photo shoot, maybe it has something to do."

"Maybe she is a photographer?"

"Nah," you shake your head denying, "based on how little I know about her, I don't think photography is her thing."

"Hmm…" she thought about it for a few seconds, "Model, then, I can't think of anything else."

"Probably, we'll see."

When you arrived at the exit and left the mall, you stayed waiting for the taxi for just under 5 minutes until it finally arrived. You barely put all the bags in the trunk of the car, forced to stack them on top of each other and crush them so that they could fit all there.

"We need a car, fuck," Heejin sighed, "a SUV, if possible."

"Maybe if we stopped buying 1.400 dollars handbags we could save and buy one," you looked at her without even blinking.

"Oh come on! It was Fendi!" she excused herself, before you ignored her and sat at the backseat, "you bought an almost 1.000 clock and I'm not upset about it. In fact, you're wearing it!"

"It's different," you said, watching out the window as she sat next to you and closed the car door.

"In what?" she crossed her arms as she saw you.

"It cost almost 500 bucks less," you chuckled, waiting for the blow to your arm.

"Ah fuck you!" she complained, hitting you on your arm, in the same exact area where she always did. You didn't even immute you, you had developed a kind of mental immunity to the pain of her punches.

Being your building so few blocks away the trip was just under 3 minutes, in fact, you could easily have walked there, but the amount of laziness that gave you loading with all the bags beat you. When you arrived you paid the driver and got off the car, to download all the bags and enter the building. Entering the elevator with all the bags was less difficult than you expected, in fact, you didn’t even have to make two trips up and down as you imagined from the beginning, however, if someone else wanted to enter the elevator at that time, it was going to be necessary to wait.

When you got to your floor you were the first to go ahead since you had the keys, you opened the door, and went straight to the living room to put all the bags on the sofa, while Heejin left them on the floor between the coffee table and the sofa. .

"You know, I think we should adopt a cat," she said out of nowhere.

"What? Why?" you frowned in confusion as you walked towards the door again.

"I don't know, I feel a little lonely every time you leave..." Heejin bited on her bottom lip, arms folded and looking sad, "this whole place is so big, and well… you know ."

"Oh Hekkie..." you breathed out, to walk towards her and hold her by the waist, "I'm so sorry, okay?"

"No, not at all, it's not your fault, silly," she laughed a little discouraged, "it's your job now, do your best for me," she gave you a little pat on the chest, and then she gave you a little kiss on the lips, "I just need some company while you're gone, that's all."

"We're going to an adoption center tomorrow, okay?" you cupped her face with your hands, "take care of finding out places."

"Okay," she nodded, like the spoiled child she sometimes was, "be careful, okay?"

"Always," you gave her a kiss on the forehead, and then another on her lips, before turning around and walking out of the apartment.

You didn't know how late you were going to arrive at the place Sunmi had ordered you to go to, which worried you. You ordered the taxi as fast as you could while you walked to the elevator, and you checked that you had everything you needed on you. When you got to the street you couldn't help but think that Heejin was right, you needed a car urgently.

Luckily for you the taxis in that place were anything but late, they arrived much faster than the average taxi did, but you came to the conclusion that it must simply be the same old problem, classism in its purest form.

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

The taxi dropped you right in front of the executive building to which they had sent you, just as you imagined it was a production company and a photo studio, from the outside you couldn't see much of it, but when you entered you were amazed at the tremendous relevance of the place. The lobby was littered with photos, all of them with captions indicating the brand that had done their shoots right there; Adidas, Under Armour, Puma, Calvin Klein...

"Good afternoon, miss," you approached the receptionist, a pretty girl under 25 years by your reckoning. << Seo Soojin >>, said the little card attached to her shirt. She wore glasses, her hair tied up in a bun, and a rather intense crimson lipstick that highlighted her thick lips. The moles she had under her eye and next to her nose also caught your attention.

"Good afternoon sir, how can I help you?" she said, looking at you over the top of her glasses.

"I'm headed to the studio, huh…" you checked your phone again, "6."

"Are you a model? Staff member? Photographer?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Oh no, nothing like that," you denied, "I'm close friends with Miss Lee and Miss Nakamura."

"I see," she nodded and looked down at her landline, "one minute please," she said as she took the phone, you kept quiet as you looked at her, assuming she was calling someone, "Hello? Yes, excuse me, there's a guy at the reception who claims to be close friends with Miss Lee and Miss Nakamura... Ok... Ok got it, you're welcome."

"Well?"

"Here," she opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a necklace with a laminated card that read <<guest>>, "fourth floor to the right, easy enough to find," she said, handing you the card.

"Thanks, Soojin," you nodded your head in appreciation and took the card to go straight to the elevator.

You followed the receptionist's instructions until you arrived at the aforementioned studio 6, the door was made of opaque glass that allowed you to see almost nothing other than the flash of the cameras going off and the light from the spotlights. The door wasn't locked, so you just walked in freely. The studio was quite spacious and cozy, with black curtains that completely covered all the windows and air conditioning at the perfect temperature. There were fewer people than you thought there would be, only 5 staff members and a sturdy man in a suit sitting on a sofa at the back of the room, they all stared at you when you closed the door behind you, but seeing the card hanging from your neck they continued with their thing.

"Hi… hi… hi," you said aloud, bowing to each person as you walked to where the flashes were coming from.

As you crossed the division between the two studio areas, you found yourself blinded for a moment by the light from one of the spotlights, so much so that at first glance you couldn't notice everything; when your eyes cleared up you were finally able to take a look at the minimalist set they had assembled. There was a large furry sofa placed right in the middle of the white screen that covered both the wall and the floor for a few feet, with a couple of cushions in the middle and a jean jacket that belonged to the incredibly hot and stunning woman who was sitting and posing on the sofa. In black Calvin Klein underwear and white socks.

"Oh, you're finally here," Lee Sunmi said, noticing your presence and motioning for the photographer to stop for a moment.

"Yes, sorry if I'm late, Miss Lee," you bowed to her, after nearly choking on how she'd seen you and how she was (or was not) dressed.

"Not at all, you're actually just on time," she stood up and slowly walked over to stand in front of you, one of her hands resting on your chest and the other on your left arm, moving both from up and down while analyzing your outfit, "now you dress appropriately, nice outfit, boy."

"I'm glad you like it," you giggled nervously at how close she was, maybe you weren't quite used to how imposing she was yet, "nice underwear, by the way, you look amazing."

"Thanks, but you don't have to pretend you weren't looking at my tits while I was walking towards you," you didn't answer, you didn't even realize you had until she told you, "anyway, there's someone you have to meet, remember?" she asked tilting her head to the other side of the room, "Hey, Zuha! Our partner is here."

From behind one of the spotlights a girl just inches taller than Sunmi came out, much more covered than you expected; she was wearing a slightly short jean skirt, a white crop top shirt with the Calvin Klein logo, and black sneakers and white socks with the same logo. You couldn't help but fix your attention on the girl’s unreally gorgeous face and on how perfect her dark shiny hair looked, after that you did focus on the slender figure she had, giving special attention to her incredibly hot abs that managed to hypnotize you in the moment.

"Damn, you really are as handsome as she told me," was the first thing Kazuha said as she stood next to Sunmi and looked you up and down, "Nakamura Kazuha," she held out her hand for you to shake, "And you're... Starboy, huh?"

"My pleasure, yes," you said, shaking her hand and meeting her eyes with a small smile.

"I can call you whatever I want, right?" her look denoted her intentions from the first instance, and you were sure that yours did too.

"I think that depends," you noticed in Kazuha a certain different energy from Sunmi and Tiffany's, a more playful, fun and spicy one, so you decided to take certain liberties, "what do you want to call me, baby?"

Kazuha raised both eyebrows for a second and smiled while biting her lower lip. Something about that she had liked, and you suspected that it was that you called her baby.

"Miss Lee?" Kazuha said without looking at her.

"Yeah?" Sunmi replied.

"I wanna taste him, here and now," that took you by surprise, so you looked at Sunmi somewhat stunned.

"Kazuha, you know that we are in a photo studio, right? There are people here. You’re not even gonna talk with him?" Sunmi asked.

"I don't care! I want to suck his cock before I take him with me all night, we will have a lot of time to talk" she stepped back and cupped both hands to either side of her mouth, "Everyone get out of here right now! We need a moment alone and no one is allowed to enter until I say so!" Kazuha said very loudly, for everyone inside the room to hear.

As soon as Kazuha gave the order, you could see how everyone quickly left the room, including the man you saw sitting a moment ago, who looked at you for a second before leaving. You didn't know what the hell was going on, your mind couldn't assimilate the fact that until less than five minutes ago you had just had your first contact with her and she already wanted to give you head, but maybe you should have expected it.

"God, this girl," Sunmi murmured as she sighed, and then she went to sit cross-legged on the sofa.

"You don't mind, do you?" Kazuha grabbed the collar of your sweater with one finger and moved a dangerous distance to your face, "It'll just be a little… quality test."

"Nah, just choke on that cock if you want," you replied, looking at her lips and then her eyes.

"Yes..." she paused to get a little closer, until almost touching her lips with yours, "Daddy," listening that she called you that way, from so close, and with her deep voice woven in a low sensual murmur, made all your senses activate at the same time and make you completely crazy. There was something in that girl that you couldn't identify, but you had the slight feeling that you were going to become addicted to her.

When Kazuha put her hand on your chest and went down to your pants she found that you already had a hard bulge on it, that among all the sexual tension of the situation you didn’t realize was there, you just had been paying attention to the girl’s cute playful eyes.

"Oh! You're hard already daddy," Kazuha teased you with a false surprise, "I bet you've been horny since you saw Miss Sunmi's tits."

Kazuha squeezed your cock slightly over your pants and began to remove her shirt and skirt, leaving herself in a set of underwear exactly like Sunmi's. Her body was almost as perfect as a Renaissance sculpture, and you took special time to admire her marked and delicious abs, her attractive shoulders and arms, and her long creamy legs.

You would have put your hands on her right then and there, if it weren't for her kneeling in front of you as soon as she knew you had already taken a look at her body in all its fullness. She looked into your eyes with a little mischievous smile, as she began to massage your cock over your pants again, while her other hand was attached to your right thigh.

"Tell me, Miss Lee, how do he like blowjobs?" asked Kazuha without seeing Sunmi, instead concentrating on unbuttoning your pants and lowering your zipper.

"Just suck his cock, brat, no matter how you do it," Sunmi said, without paying too much attention since she was looking at her nails, "he's already crazy about you, anyway he's going to like it."

"Ah yes?" Kazuha teased you, "is daddy so crazy about me that fast? I haven't even done anything..." the girl grabbed her fingers to the curbs of your pants and boxers and lowered them to your knees, thus releasing your hard cock that was now resting on her face, "Yet."

Kazuha took your cock between her fingers and took a moment to analyze every inch of it, she planted a kiss, then two, and then began to plant her lips from your tip to your balls, being down there she stuck out her tongue and put it flat against your balls, to go slowly along your entire length back to your tip. She and you shared stares throughout that moment, even when your cock was locked by her mouth just a few inches after the tip.

You couldn't help but let out the faint sigh that came out of your mouth as Kazuha began to suck a few inches from you, her fingers were wrapped around the base of your cock, and her back was slightly arched so you could see her prominent, firm ass as she sucked more and more inches from your cock until she reached the middle.

"Mmm, Daddy's cock is very, very delicious," she said, licking her lips and masturbating you slowly, then dipping your cock straight back into her wet warm mouth.

This time Kazuha's lips moved a few inches past the middle of your shaft, and with most of your cock now inside her mouth she began to give you a slow, wet, sensual blowjob. She wasn't looking you in the eye anymore, her head movements and body language made it obvious that she was enjoying sucking your cock almost as much as you did.

Her moans of pleasure soon appeared, making your cock vibrate every time she made a sound, you moaned a couple of times out loud, which made Kazuha see you once again in the eyes.

"You're supposed to be her daddy now, fool, act like one," you heard Sunmi speak to your left, you saw her out of the corner of her eye, remembering that she had been watching everything from the beginning.

It was easy for her to say, you had been a simple sub for several days, the word daddy had practically disappeared from your vocabulary at this point. You hadn't acted as the dominant one for a long time, but Kazuha was worth the effort.

"That's a good fucking girl," you gasped as she looked you in the eye, causing her to start pumping her head faster, "do you like daddy's cock, baby?"

"Yes daddy, your cock is so juicy..." she said, pulling you out of her mouth for a moment, "And big... and hard, and tasty."

After she adored your cock between wet kisses and licks, Kazuha put extra effort into her blowjob to make sure you enjoyed it, and not just that you enjoyed it, that it was the best blowjob you had ever been given in your life, which was difficult to achieve considering that her competition was Jeon Heejin herself, but what you did know was that if she kept going that way, moving her head that good and sucking almost all your cock between moans, you were going to cum faster than you wanted.

You were forced to close your eyes and drop your head back, which was also not very useful since Kazuha was no longer holding your cock with her fingers, she was now clinging to your hips, daring to take those last inches of your shaft and start hitting her own throat with each pump. The gag sounds of Kazuha's throat tempted you to open your eyes and watch the lewd scene in front of you, but you wanted to hold on more, just a little longer so you wouldn't look like a weak fool. Unfortunately for you, many times you couldn't take control of your brain, and you involuntarily opened your eyes, encountering the incredibly sexy image of Kazuha choking in your cock and making a mess of saliva on the ground, and that was the bane for you.

Without even telling her or anything you suddenly burst into Kazuha's mouth, she noticed it right away, and pushed her head even further toward the base of your cock, resting her nose on your pubis as you shot all your thick load into her throat. She held you there throughout your orgasm, swallowing as much as she could until she finally pulled you out of her mouth very slowly. When your cock was freed from her lips, she stared into your eyes with eyes full of sensuality and opened her mouth, to show you the thick pool of cum that rested on her tongue. You couldn't say anything because of how amazed you were, and she just closed her mouth, swallowed it, opened it again, and magically your cum was no longer there.

"And tell me daddy... I'm a good girl?" she said, as she wiped your cock with soft, delicate licks.

You were completely stunned and enraptured by such a sensual and charming aura, so much so that it took you a moment to find your words.

"Yes you are, baby, but you must keep showing it," you hesitated for a second, but ended up caressing her cheek with the back of your hand.

"Oh, you don't need to worry about it, daddy, I'll be a good girl all night... Maybe," she chuckled, kissing the tip of your cock and then standing up.

"Are you satisfied, little whore?" asked Sunmi, clearly wanting to get rid of her.

"Oh yes I am, Miss Lee, you have very good tastes," replied Kazuha as she picked up her clothes, you for your part just pulled up your boxer and pants, and stood there not quite knowing what to do after being drained so well.

"Of course I have good tastes, for some reason I am where I am," Sunmi stood up and walked to stand next to you, "you left the ground in a mess, how do you plan to explain it?"

"I don't know and it's not my problem, I want to leave with daddy right now," Kazuha said as she put on her shirt and skirt.

"Huh? Leave?!" Sunmi looked genuinely surprised, and perhaps somewhat annoyed, "God, you're lucky enough pictures of you have already been taken," she sighed, "just get out, and take good care of him."

"Perfect, thank you mommy!" said Kazuha with a radiant smile and a small ankle lift.

Sunmi didn't answer anything, in fact, you could notice that her face turned a little red because of how Kazuha had called her, apparently it wasn't something she was supposed to say in front of you.

"Get the fuck out of here," was all Miss Lee said, earning a laugh from Kazuha, who intertwined her arm with yours and carried you with her to the exit.

"What was that?" you asked, referring to what she had called Sunmi, as the two of you rounded a corner on the way to the elevator.

"Well, let's just say you're not the only one who has something like a... different relationship with Miss Lee," Kazuha held you by the arm tightly, as if she didn't want to let you go, and the happy smile on her face denoted a certain victorious feeling in her.

"You two have...?" you started, before entering the elevator and pressing the button on the ground floor.

"Yes, I've eaten her pussy on more than one occasion, why?" she replied matter-of-factly.

"Oh, sure," you nodded, "nothing, I was just curious about it."

When you arrived on the ground floor of the building you noticed, thanks to the glass doors, that the man in a suit from a few minutes ago was already waiting for you on the sidewalk in front of the entrance.

You passed by the front of Seo Soojin's desk, with whom you stared at each other until you left the building.

"May I ask who he is?" you whispered in Kazuha's ear, seeing the man.

"Oh, Keitaro?" she said loudly, drawing the sturdy man's attention to the two of you, arousing your nerves, "He's my bodyguard, don't worry, his only job is to prevent something bad from happening to me, he's not going to interfere."

"Then he's not going to gouge out my eyes with his thumbs?"

"If my life is in danger because of you, it's the lightest thing he's going to do," she patted you on the chest and made you walk with her to the back doors of the car. A black chrome Toyota Highlander.

Keitaro opened the rear left door for you, and Kazuha let go of your arm to get one foot in the car and get inside, you followed her, and you settled aside while the bodyguard closed the door and then took his place in the driver's seat.

"Keitaro-san, take us to the hotel, alright? I need to get ready for tonight," Kazuha ordered the man, who only nodded before starting the car and setting off through the streets of Seoul.

"I don't know if it's rude to ask, but what are you doing here in Korea?" you asked, and then you took the slight audacity to put your hand on her thigh.

"I'm sick of my father," Kazuha's gaze was set on the shiny advertisements and modern buildings, illuminating her face, "he thinks he can control me like a doll with no mind of my own."

"Did you run away? Don't you think you're getting into big trouble?" she turned to see you.

"Probably, but I don't plan to go back there in a while," she shrugged indifferently.

"And you plan to stay in a hotel all the time?"

"I just arrived, it's temporary," she made a quick move, in which she climbed on your lap and adjusted her thighs to each side of you, "Miss Lee is already helping me get an apartment."

"We'll be closer than I thought, all the time, then," you put both hands on her waist, brushing her soft skin with your fingertips slowly, while Kazuha placed her hands on each side of your neck.

"I hope that's not a bad thing for you, daddy," she joked, a malicious smile slowly forming on her face.

"Not at all," you shook your head, "that will be interesting."

Kazuha did not respond again, instead, she closed the distance between the two of you and found your lips, initiating a slow and passionate kiss which extended all the way to the hotel. Once again you felt that it was different, you had a certain special chemistry with her that you never had with any of your other clients, you didn’t know exactly what it was, but what you could confirm is that with her you felt freer, and less pressured even considering who she was. Maybe it was her energy, or her vibes, or the way she treated you and saw you, Kazuha was different.

You arrived at the hotel faster than you thought, you didn’t know if it was because you had lost track of time inside the kiss or if the road had been short, but the truth was that Keitaro was already looking for a place to park near what seemed to be one of the few 5-star hotels you knew in Seoul: The Shilla.

"My God, how much does a night there cost?" you asked, seeing the bright name of the hotel at the top of the building.

"Not as much as you think, it's cheaper than paying for a night with you, actually," she chuckled.

"Heck, that's how expensive I am?"

"Miss Lee says you're worth every penny, and I believe her," she replied, playing with the collar of your sweater.

"Look on the bright side, maybe after tonight I'll consider no longer charging you for my services," you tried to persuade her, seeking her gaze.

"Ah yes? Interesting..." she nodded slowly, to look into your eyes, "then I'll make sure I'm a good cum dump for daddy," she whispered over your lips.

The only thing you wanted at that precise moment was to take off her clothes and fuck her hard on the thin leather of the seats, but the car stopped.

"You're provoking me more than you should, and it's gonna be a long night for you, brat," you whispered back, before Keitaro turned off the engine and got out of the car.

"Mmm, maybe, but I honestly don't care," she gently bit your lip, and then got off your lap to open the door and get out of the car.

You followed her, and locked the car door for Keitaro to lock them with the key control. Kazuha re-intertwined her arm with yours, and you walked with her inside the building before the main one, which served as a lobby and private restaurant. You were especially struck by the traditional style of the infrastructure, both the style of the roof and the height reminded you of a temple, but with a modern touch thanks to the glass walls.

"Do you want to eat something, daddy? The food here is amazing," Kazuha said as you passed between the long tables, where there were some people having their dinner.

"No thanks, I'm not hungry yet," you replied, watching people eat all kinds of dishes that you sometimes saw only in magazines.

"Are you sure? It will be a long night, if you don’t eat now, I think you should order food while I get ready to leave," as you crossed the entire food area, you reached the portal leading to the main building.

"I almost forgot, where are we supposed to go?" Kazuha let go of your arm and approached the receptionist, you couldn't hear what she said to her, but within seconds she came back with you.

"Itaewon," she replied with a smile on her face as she held your hand and carried you inside the building, "I want to see if it's as wild as people say."

"Well, it certainly is," you nodded, entering the elevator with her, who pressed the button on the top floor, "Huh? Why are we going so high?"

"They must know who my father is, do you seriously think they would let me stay in a common room?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you telling me you have the fucking presidential suite of this hotel?" you asked out of naivety.

"Nah," she chuckled, "It was offered to me, but it was too much. I have the deluxe suite, or the Shilla Suite, as they call it."

"Ah... sure."

When you reached the top floor Kazuha took the lead to guide you through the corridors, and finally stopped in front of the suite door, opened it, and pulled you inside with her.

As expected, the suite was anything but modest, on its own it could already be a rentable apartment, in fact. The furniture and walls made a perfect harmony of colors, white, champagne and dark brown, so automatically your eyes felt comfortable. Just entering was the living room, which consisted of two single sofas without armbands, a long white linen sofa, and two coffee tables in between. On the right was a large TV, and after the living room a bookshelf with yellow lights and glass display cases with all kinds of valuables.

"Pretty big for one person, don't you think?" you asked, slowly walking forward as you examined every corner of the place.

"Not really, I like to have enough space," she went ahead of you and passed the portal that divided the living room from the next area of the suite, which was nothing more than a small room prior to what you thought was the main bedroom. There was a marble table with a large sculpture of a turtle in the middle, and to the left a large window showing a beautiful view of Namsan Mountain.

"And don't you think you need some company?" you asked, running your fingers over the turtle's shell as you looked at the mountain.

"So fast you want to be with me all the time, daddy? Don't let it be noticed that I'm driving you crazy," she teased you with a mischievous chuck and a radiant smile on her face as she walked past you to open the bedroom door.

"This little b..." you murmured, and then you couldn't help but smile to yourself before you followed her inside.

The bedroom had nothing to envy to the living room as far as good design was concerned, it was just as impressive and big, and the bed looked like a place where you lay down to sleep 18 hours straight.

When you walked in Kazuha was already undressing, and you knew perfectly well that she had taken off her skirt with her back to the door just because she knew you were going to pass by in a matter of seconds, and so it was, so you got a perfect view of her gorgeous firm ass.

"Hey, don't be a peeping daddy," she said, looking over her shoulder with her back still crouching, prompting you to keep seeing her ass for a few seconds before standing up again and getting into the bathroom.

At this point that girl was doing her best to get you out of your boxes, but for now your patience, and especially your willpower, were prevailing over your desire to rip off those stupid panties and fuck her prone bone against the mattress.

You had no choice but to sit on the edge of the bed, lean back to rest your hands on the mattress and let out a sigh, seriously thinking about what to do while Kazuha was in the bathroom, you heard the sound of the shower a few seconds later, so she was not going to come out for the next few minutes nearby. You slowly gave in to boredom, so you just lay on the soft mattress and pulled out your phone to scroll Instagram while waiting.

You didn't know exactly how much time had passed, but you spent a while watching your phone screen until you heard the bathroom door open. Kazuha came out wrapped in a rather short towel, which covered only what was necessary, and once again you were mesmerized by the sensual shape of her body. She noticed you immediately, and climbed onto the bed to lie beside you, her head resting on her hand and her elbow.

"Did you miss me, Daddy?" she asked, seeing you with a playful little smile.

Before you could formulate an answer, you couldn't help but notice that in that position her towel had been lifted to almost her waist, so her buttocks were exposed and at your disposal. You couldn't see her intimate part, but if only she had turned a little, you would have been able to see that too.

"Nah, you didn't take that long," you teased her, with a small smile on your face as you looked at the ceiling.

"Oh come on!" she whimpered, "it took me half an hour, how is it possible that you didn't miss me?" she climbed on top of you and took the phone out of your hands so that you would put all your attention on her.

Kazuha completely caught you with her thighs, and you couldn't and didn't want to do anything about it. Her towel went up even more, and now her naked ass was totally exposed to you, that combined with feeling her pussy pressed against your crotch over the fabric, began to make the blood flow to your bulge.

"And why should I miss you so much, brat?" you raised an eyebrow, "do you think I have no other things to distract myself with?"

"Because I'm the only daddy's baby girl..." while saying that Kazuha brought two fingers to the fold of her towel on her chest, and slowly untangled it until she fell from her body to yours, showing you her pair of modest but incredibly sexy tits, "right?"

Your eyes almost popped out of your sockets when you saw Kazuha's completely naked body on top of you, a smile formed on your face, and when you finished scrutinizing every visible corner of her, you took a handful of her hair and pulled her towards you, so that her chest was flat against yours. Your faces inches from each other.

"I warn you, little whore, you don't want to provoke me any more than you already are," you said quietly, alternating your gaze between her lips and her eyes.

"And why not? I just want to make sure Daddy has eyes just for me," even though you were gripping her hair tightly, Kazuha managed to crack a smile full of mischief.

"I have eyes only for you right now, but you're behaving like a spoiled fucking whore," in a sharp move you turned the tables, and now you were on top of her, with a grip that had gone from being in her hair to being on her neck, not strong enough for choke her but to keep her in place. Kazuha continued with that little malicious smile, with her hand on your wrist, "don’t worry, I’m not one of those who deny their girl what she wants, but you should know that everything you are looking for right now, is gonna be returned to you, multiplied by a thousand."

"That means daddy will really make me his cum dump?" she asked with a mischievous little brow lift, as she lifted her hips and brushed your crotch with her leg.

You watched her in complete silence for a few short seconds, until you got off top of her and got out of bed to stand by the edge of it.

"Undress me, little whore," you ordered, endowing yourself with unexplored dominant abilities. Kazuha turned her neck and stared at you for a few seconds while she was still lying down, biting her lower lip and then looking down at the bulge in your pants.

"Yes daddy," she replied with a small smirk.

Kazuha got up, crawled towards you, and then knelt up to be at the height of your face; the girl took your sweater out of your pants while you took off your watch and left it on the bedside table next to the bed; it didn't take long for your sweater to be out of your torso, so Kazuha concentrated on unbuttoning your pants and pulling them down with everything and boxers to your ankles, where you completed the work by getting out of your shoes and then the clothes. Now both you and she were completely naked in front of each other. You took a moment to see Kazuha's perfect body again, making a small stop at her pretty, shaved pussy.

"Mmm, I think I want to have some fun first," you said, then you put two fingers in your mouth, filled them with saliva and brought them to her slit, slowly sliding them back and forth. Kazuha made the attempt to take your cock with her hand, but you quickly stopped it with a slap on her wrist, "Oh hell no. You don't have permission to grab Daddy's cock yet."

"B-but, I want to feel daddy's cock!" she whimpered, her face somewhat reddish as you started rubbing her pussy with your fingers, "I-t's not f-fair, ah..." the moans came out of her mouth alone, and as much as she wanted to keep complaining like the brat she was, the first finger you inserted inside her completely collapsed her desire to win.

Kazuha's knees became somewhat weak as you inserted the second finger inside her, so you took the opportunity to push her and make her fall on her back on the mattress, legs wide open without even asking her. You noticed from how she had her legs open that her flexibility was quite out of the ordinary, and you wanted to test it later. For now, you concentrated on kneeling right next to her, your throbbing cock floating inches above her face; you spread her legs even wider, and put your two fingers back inside her, moving them slowly at first because of how tight she felt.

"Suck that cock, baby," Kazuha didn't even think twice, she obeyed your command immediately and caught the tip of your cock with her mouth, sucking a few inches until she reached the middle of your shaft, where she began to pump her head at a considerable pace, "that's a good girl," you congratulated her, noticing that she hadn’t used her hands.

Her only response was to let out a small moan around your cock, to which you responded back by moving your wrist faster, your fingers completely going in and out of her pussy. You let Kazuha keep sucking your cock freely for a few more long seconds, her face was distorted with pleasure, the main point being her frowning eyebrows and blushed cheeks as she left your cock full of saliva with each pump. You continued fingering her as fast as your wrist allowed, causing your palm to continually bump into her pubis.

"Alright, that's enough brat," you stopped her, earning you a dismayed look from her, which soon turned into one of slight surprise when you started moving your hips and fucking her mouth. Your left hand went to her head, grabbing a handful of her hair and grabbing it tightly to thrust hard against her mouth.

The tip of your cock began to hit her throat with each thrust, that together with how her pussy was fucked by your fingers transformed her into a trembling mess, and when you least expected it, she turned away from your cock to let out a loud moan and succumb to her peak of pleasure. The walls of her pussy almost suffocated your fingers, which were now pumping at a slower pace as she passed her orgasm. Her legs also closed tightly, trapping your wrist for a few long seconds until her thighs relaxed.

"I'm not done with you yet, baby girl," Kazuha's body was almost asleep due to her recent orgasm, so it was easy for you to settle between her legs, hold her ankles in the air and throw them all the way back, just as you supposed, that girl was fucking flexible, and it was demonstrated by how her two ankles were now on either side of her head as if it were the most natural pose, "Be a good girl and hold your legs there, understood?"

Kazuha gulped and nodded repeatedly as she held her legs with her arms, a lust-filled look that cried out for you to fuck her.

Your cock was already lubricated by her saliva, and her pussy was already soaked for quite a while, it was enough to rub your tip a couple of times in her slit, from top to bottom, and press forward little by little, letting her tight pussy and soft folds swallow your entire shaft, slowly, inch by inch, until you were completely inside her. A coordinated moan flooded the room, she for feeling how you filled every corner of her hole, and you for feeling how exaggeratedly tight yet soft her pussy felt, it was a difficult feeling to assimilate, but if it had been possible to put your balls also inside her, you would have done it.

You rested both your hands on the mattress on either side of her hips and leaned forward so that your face was floating above Kazuha's. She continually looked into your crotches, but when she fixed her gaze with yours was when you started pumping in and out of her wet pussy, forcing her not to look away from you for a second.

You were kind of delicate with her at first because you wanted to feel carefully the soft texture of her pussy walls and how they tightened around your axis, but the desire to give that little whore what she deserved was stronger than you. You started ramming down harder and harder, eliciting loud moans from Kazuha, who kept holding her legs with hardly any signs of weakness.

"Oh god, oh god! Your cock feels amazing daddy! So fucking amazing!" Kazuha yelled, digging her nails into her own legs as you fucked her now with all the strength you had.

"Would you like daddy to fill you up, huh?" you teased her, seeing her faint eyes, "I bet you're wanting to feel all my thick cum paint your walls."

"Fuck yes! I need so much daddy, please, please!" she pleaded between whining of pleasure.

A small drop of sweat fell down your temple and fell on Kazuha's neck, you were fucking her impetuously, pumping up and down against her pussy, your cock going in and out completely. You wanted to keep fucking her while you saw her beautiful and sensual face, but you needed a new position that you were waiting for a while.

You quickly came out from inside her and made her legs let go, then held her by the waist and made her lie face down, with her chest and stomach flat against the mattress. You re-entered her pussy, but this time in a prone bone position that allowed you to enjoy her firm ass, which you gave a couple of strong spanks before holding her by the waist and starting your thrusts again.

Kazuha plunged her face into the mattress and clung tightly to the sheets, crumpling her fingers and pulling them almost out of the edges of the bed. You supported the entire weight of your arms against her waist and lower back through your fingers, you were holding her tightly, comparable to the force with which you were pounding her pussy over and over again.

"I'm gonna... ah! I'm gonna cum again daddy, fuck! I'm gonna cum on that delicious fucking cock!" Kazuha groaned loudly, separating her face from the mattress for a moment to see you over her shoulder.

"Then fucking cum, you fucking whore," you kept your left hand on Kazuha's waist, but the right went straight to her hair to pull it back hard, causing the girl to explode with pleasure once more.

Kazuha's body shuddered amid intense spasms, and she plunged her face back into the mattress to drown out her moans, almost screams, of pleasure. You didn't give her any rest time, in fact, what you did was make her lift her butt high enough to turn it into a makeshift doggystyle. You had to hold her tightly, otherwise, it would have been impossible for her to stay in that position by herself for the first few seconds, but wanting to show you how good girl she was, you had to make no effort but to keep fucking her with the intensity of a sex machine, since she did everything possible to support herself.

"Please cum daddy, I need it so, so bad," Kazuha's pleas already sounded muffled, as if the energy inside her had been drained from inside her with a vacuum cleaner, "give all your load to your little baby girl, just cum already daddy, please!"

You would have lasted only a little longer, but Kazuha's pretty and desperate pleas managed to break your psyche. Your two hands went to her ass to squeeze the flesh of her buttocks between your fingers, you kept fucking her with all your strength, and finally after a few seconds, you exploded inside the tight pussy of a beautiful Japanese girl.

"Oh fuck yes... yes!" she let out a deep, long moan, "Ahhh ffffffuck," Kazuha growled as she watched you bite her lip, feeling you deposit all your cum inside her, it was several thick jets, and you didn't stop until the last drop of your load had come out of your cock.

You stayed inside her pussy for a few long seconds, taking a moment to enjoy that feeling for a little longer before you stepped out and let your cum fall free from her hole to the mattress. As you let your load drip from her pussy you leaned towards her, to bring your mouth closer to her ear.

"Good girl," you whispered, "you'll be a very cute cum dump," then you kissed her on the cheek, and she turned to get you to kiss her lips too.

You lay down next to her only to wrap your arms around her body and snuggle her up against you as you shared a deep kiss. Once again, while kissing her you had lost a little track of time and space, you had almost forgotten that you were in an expensive hotel room with a girl you had just met 2 hours ago, but you didn’t feel that way, you felt that you were kissing a person you had known for years.

"Daddy..." she murmured, breaking the kiss, "you're so... cute," Kazuha looked into your eyes, and you looked back at her, meeting a pair of pretty, glowing orbs that looked at you like you were a precious treasure. You were speechless for a moment, not knowing exactly what was happening at that moment, but you had to say the first thing that came to mind.

"Uh… you too, baby, a lot," you muttered back, and before you even knew it, you had given her a stupid smile.

Kazuha smiled from ear to ear, and despite it being night, you felt like the sun had risen again in the form of a person because of how radiant and beautiful her smile was. The next thing she did was kiss you again, but this time more briefly to separate from you and sit on the bed. What the fuck had happened?

"God, we have to order the sheets to be changed," she said nonchalantly looking at the cum where it had landed.

"We'll do it when we leave, go get ready, baby," you ordered her in a low, meek voice, caressing her lower back with your fingertips.

"Yes daddy!" she answered, remembering with some happiness that you had a destination to go to. She got out of bed as quickly as possible, but when she got to her feet to try to walk to her suitcase, her legs gave out and she wobbled so badly that she had to hold on to the wall to keep from falling. You could only hold back your laughter, turning it into a nasal laugh, "Ah fuck," she cursed under her breath.

"Everything alright baby?" you teased her, with a smile.

"No, I think definitely not, Daddy fucked me so hard now my legs are weak," she giggled too, and then was finally able to walk over to her suitcase.

She took all the clothes she was going to wear from her suitcase, a small handbag that you assumed was makeup, a hair straightener and went back to the bathroom. You took advantage of the moment to also get going and get dressed again, you didn't feel very comfortable putting on the same outfit again, but unfortunately you didn't have much choice.

Kazuha spent another hour and a half in the bathroom, of which you took about 20 minutes to take a nap, but when she finally came out you were sitting on the edge of the bed watching a show on the bedroom TV, and you couldn't to do anything other than raise both eyebrows and leave your mouth agape in astonishment.

Kazuha was wearing an outfit that only highlighted how fucking sexy and beautiful she was, she was wearing a black top that exposed her midriff, clavicle and shoulders, surrounded by four black leather belts, each with different buckles; gray jeans and completely black sneakers. Her chocolate-colored hair was perfectly ironed, and her face with a not too heavy makeup that highlighted her pretty eyes and lips.

"Well? How do I look daddy?" she asked, extending both arms out to the sides of her to do a few turns on herself.

"Outrageously beautiful, baby," you walked over to her and cupped her face with both hands to give her a couple of kisses on the lips, "Hey, you've got a nice set of shoulders, plus I could wash clothes on your abs, you do sport?"

"Oh Daddy" Kazuha giggled, "No, no. I like to go to the gym in my spare time, oh, and I did ballet until I was 17."

"Well, that explains everything."

"Aham," she placed her hands on your chest, "so you could literally fuck me standing with one leg on my shoulder."

"Don't give me ideas," you warned her, but you also thought of all the possibilities, each one hotter than the last.

"You asked first," she gave you a peck on the chin, and then pulled away from her, "let's go daddy, we have a long night ahead of us."

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

Just as you'd expect on a Saturday night, the place you and Kazuha had chosen while walking through Itaewon was full of people. The deafening sound of music was all that hit your ears as soon as you walked in, but you immediately noticed an incredible atmosphere as you made your way through the crowd and Kazuha began to move her body to the rhythm of Lady Gaga's Judas. You had paid for a pair of VIP bracelets, which allowed you access to the exclusive area and open bar for all drinks and cocktails throughout the night, but Kazuha had told you that the first thing she wanted to do when you arrived was dance.

And there you were. Kazuha had a bright smile on her face as she began to get carried away by the music. You, in order not to stand still like an idiot, also began to dance subtly, but your only purpose was to see her. She moved her body hypnotically, with hips that could kill anyone with just one movement, at a certain moment she closed her eyes to immerse herself even more in the mood, a moment that you used to stand behind her and place your hands on her waist, Kazuha opened her eyes, turned for a second to give you a smile and continued dancing, this time with her back against your chest.

There came a time for you when you didn't even pay attention to what song was playing, you were so enthralled and caught up in Kazuha's flirtatious aura that keeping up with the music and her body was your only concern. If it wasn't for her stopping in the first place, you would have stayed there with her for quite a while longer.

"Daddy, can you take me to the bar? I want a drink," she said in your ear after turning around.

"Of course, baby, come on," you took her hand and pushed your way once more through the crowd until you reached the semicircle-shaped bar, where more than one bartender was working on various drinks for people who were waiting.

"Hi!" Kazuha greeted one of the workers, "I want a martini and…" she stared at you as she waited for your response.

"A mojito is fine with me, thanks," you nodded, sitting down on one of the empty stools, where you pulled Kazuha towards you and wrapped your arms around her waist, "Well? What do you think?" you asked in her ear.

"Is incredible!" she said with special emotion while looking at the place and then up, where the exclusive box for the place was, the lights looked different there, and you noticed, obviously, less concentration of people, "I'm certainly not disappointed!"

"I'm glad to hear it, I knew I hadn't chosen a bad place," you gave her a little kiss on the neck, and then she turned her face to kiss you for a few long seconds until the drinks were served to you.

You and Kazuha picked up the glasses and sipped your respective drinks, Kazuha raised both eyebrows and smirked when she tasted it, denoting that she had loved it. You weren't very used to drinking white rum, but the taste burned your throat quite pleasantly.

"Gosh, it's delicious!" Kazuha said, looking at her cocktail, before downing the rest in one gulp and leaving you with both eyebrows raised.

"Hey hey! What the fuck?!" your eyes were wide open, you certainly didn't expect that.

"What? I can order whatever I want all night, it's not a problem," as expected, she had her face scrunched up as the alcohol ignited her body.

"And if you want to enjoy the night in a satisfying way, I recommend that you don't use a martini as a shot," you warned her, and then you took a normal sip from your mojito glass.

"I don't promise you anything, sorry Daddy!" she wailed in the most false way possible, "another one please!" she told the bartender. You sighed, concentrating on not losing your temper.

"Listen to me, you damn brat," you grabbed her arm, not too hard, just for her to pay attention to you, "you're going to do what I tell you, you're not in charge here."

"Hmm, or what?" she teased you, cocking her head.

"It's just a warning, it's your problem if you want to accept it or not," you squeezed her arm a little harder and then released it.

"Let's go upstairs daddy!" she said when she got her drink.

She strode away from you and into the crowd, taking you so by surprise that you literally ran to chase her up the stairs to the upper box. You had to grab her wrist a lot harder for her to wait for you.

When you got to the upper box, the first thing that caught your attention was the great difference in activities that were taking place there, apparently the limitations or rules were not something that existed there for some reason, there were people doing all kinds of crazy things, from the slightest thing like drinking straight from a vodka bottle until receiving lap dances that weren’t subtle at all.

"Damn, I kinda like this place even more," Kazuha said, biting her lip and then giggling.

She took your hand and walked in front of you while you looked for a completely empty sofa, curiously you found one that was perfect, in a corner, away from the spotlight. They were leather sofas in the shape of a semicircle, with a round table backlit with white lights right in the middle. Kazuha let you sit down first, that way she could get to you and sit on your right leg.

"There must be some major motherfucker up here, otherwise I don't know how that guy could be getting a lap dance from a topless girl and not being warned or something," you said glaring, then taking a sip of the mojito.

"Looks like they're having a great time," Kazuha replied, settling her ass a little closer to your lap, "seems like something I'd do," she took a long sip from her glass, leaving it half empty.

"But something you clearly won't do, right?"

"Of course not daddy! At least for now, we'll see… maybe I'll just have my pants off," she laughed, taking another sip of the martini.

"Is the alcohol making you more rebellious than usual or what? It hasn't even been 10 minutes since you started drinking and you're already acting like a brat."

"I'm not being a brat..." she sat on her side and put her two legs up on yours, "I'm actually, a brat," she brought her face closer to yours, "and not just a brat, I'm daddy's brat," she bit your lip a little harder than usual, then drank the rest of her martini right in front of your face.

"This little bitch... I can't believe it," you whispered, that had been fucking hot, but still your blood began to boil a little, both from the annoyance and from the alcohol. Kazuha began to move her upper body slightly, following the rhythm of the music as she waited for a waiter to arrive to order another drink. You kept drinking from the same glass, which was barely half full.

As time passed and the alcohol took its toll on her, Kazuha began to feel more and more liberated, she was in constant contact with you at all times, so you noticed how hot her body was due to the liqueur.

"Daddy, come dance with me," Kazuha was no longer grinning from ear to ear at all times, now she was more serious, with a lustful look on her eyes and flushed cheeks. She wasn’t drunk, she was at that precise point where you felt all your senses sharpen.

She made you wrap your arms around her waist, while she placed a hand on the back of your neck so that you would stay close to her neck at all times, that is how she began to guide you through the music with sensual and marked movements, focusing more in making you enjoy her body than the dance itself. Her ass was constantly rubbing against your crotch, and inevitably your cock began to get hard. Kazuha noticed this, and gripped your neck a bit more tightly, turning her face around and giving you a mischievous smile before sliding a hand between her back and your chest to give your bulge a firm squeeze.

"Hey!" you jumped, grabbing her wrist, "we're in a public place," you said in her ear.

"And?" she teased, then continued squeezing your cock over your pants.

"And you can't do this here, control yourself!" you stopped her a second time, to which she stopped dancing and turned to face you.

"But I'm very horny right now! I want daddy to fuck me," you noticed a certain demanding tone in her voice, which didn't help much in not losing your temper.

"I'm not going to give you what you want, and I'm not going to let you boss me around like that, you damn bitch," you warned her with a frown and a tight grip on her wrist.

"Then I guess I'll have to find another man to give me what I want, bye Daddy!" she broke free of your grasp and began to walk away from you. That was the limit for you.

"Come here you damn brat!" you snarled, catching up with her in just one stride. You were incredibly angry at the time, so much so that when you reached up and grabbed her wrist, you yanked her hard towards you like she was a rag doll. That made her moan, "You're fucking mine, do you understand? My fucking property," you said as you grabbed her chin hard, seized with a combination of jealousy and anger.

"Yes daddy, but you don't want to fuck me..." she moaned, completely surrendering to you, "and this tight pussy needs something to fill it badly."

"Let's go to the fucking bathroom. Now," you ordered, and then pulled her with you by the wrist.

You didn't even know where the hell the bathroom was, but you were letting yourself be so carried away by your impulses that after a few seconds walking you finally reached the bathroom, you didn't even notice if you had entered the men's or women's, you only knew that when you entered there was absolutely no one in there.

You roughly shoved Kazuha forward of her, causing her to fall to the bathroom floor in front of the long sink block made of black marble. You quickly closed the distance between you and her to get her back on her feet, pushing her back and turning her around so she could see herself and you in the mirror, which ran the entire length of the block horizontally.

"Stay fucking still," you growled looking at her in the mirror, her hair was a bit disheveled, but her face, especially her gaze, screamed to completely destroy her.

Your hands encircled her waist and unbuttoned her pants, lowered her zipper and without hesitating for a moment, pulled both her pants and her balenciaga panties down to her knees, from where they ended up falling to her ankles. She gasped, and pulled out of both garments to kick them to the side. You gave one of her buttocks a strong spank that resounded throughout the bathroom, Kazuha moaned, and when you made sure that your hand had been marked on her skin, you fell to your knees right in front of her ass, you spread both buttocks with your hands. hands and plunged your mouth directly into her pussy.

"Oh fuck!" Kazuha moaned loudly, as you started to eat her pussy from behind.

You didn't want to do it for a long time, but the taste of her folds, your hunger to make her yours and her sensual moans made you spend more than a minute eating her pussy like a gourmet dinner. You ran your tongue up and down her slit repeatedly, stopping from time to time to insert a bit of your tongue inside her, which drove her crazy, bending her knees and pushing even more against your face.

You kept eating her pussy for a few more seconds, but you noticed that her ass needed some attention that it hadn't been receiving until now, that's why your tongue went from lubricating her pussy to eating her ass.

"Daddy! Ah! That feels… ah fuck! Weird..." and she was right, it was strange for her at first, but as your tongue, along with your fingers, continued to play with her ass, the more she enjoyed it.

When you considered that she had had enough, you stood up again and quickly unbuttoned your pants, then lowered them with your boxers to your ankles. You felt a rush of adrenaline at that moment, anyone could walk in at that precise moment and see you with your rock hard cock behind Kazuha, but that only made everything more attractive and sexy for you.

Just to make sure you spit on your own cock and lubed it up well, before bending your knees slightly and rubbing your tip up and down over her slit, you saw her through the mirror, meeting pleading eyes and a mouth parted with gasps, and not wanting to waste much more time, you lined up with her and maked just a one hard thrust, your cock disappearing into her tight, wet pussy.

"Holy ffffuck!" Kazuha snarled, dropping her head forward and clinging tightly to the edge of the sink block. A moan escaped your mouth as well, feeling a dance of hot sensations run through your body as you once again felt the silky, tight walls of her pussy engulf your entire length.

Your hands went to her waist, your fingers firmly squeezing her meat when you began to fuck her with all the energy and desire to give her what she deserved. Kazuha immediately began to squeal with pleasure as your pelvis crashed aggressively against her ass with each of your thrusts.

"You're fucking mine, is that clear to you, you fucking brat?" you asked in a raspy voice, taking one of your hands to her hair to pull it back and make her arch her back until it almost brushed against your chest.

"Yes daddy, I'm sooo fucking yours!" she answered you between loud moans that, to your relief, absolutely no one could hear, "I'm daddy's little whore, only daddy's!"

"Then you're going to stop acting like a fucking spoiled bitch!" you grunted and then released her hair with a sharp shove, which caused her to lay her stomach flat on the shiny surface.

You took advantage of her new position to grab her left leg and bring her knee up onto the sink block, giving you a better angle to continue hammering her pussy furiously. Kazuha's moans turned into screams and deep growls that you could feel ripping in her throat, she enjoyed being used as a little sex toy with which to vent your anger, and most of all feeling your cock slamming deep inside her.

You gave her ass a couple more spanks, each one hard enough to leave a mark that wouldn't go away for hours. Both of her buttocks were already red, but that wasn't enough to let her know who was in charge.

You left her pussy, and in one quick movement you turned her around again to grab her by the waist, lift her to the sink block and spread her legs wide to get back inside her. Your gaze met hers, and despite the fact that you wanted to kiss those pretty parted lips, you knew that the right thing to do was not to give in to her charms.

A break was the last thing you wanted to give her, but you were also sure she didn't want something like that. You continued fucking her as if your life depended on it, your bodies became sweaty, and in the middle of your thrusts some drops fell on her perfect and toned abdomen. Kazuha kept moaning like crazy, but you decided to shut her up in a very simple way; both of your hands went straight to her neck, you wrapped your fingers around it and squeezed hard, cutting off any sound coming from her throat, and her breath.

And as if that were some kind of special switch, as soon as your fingers pressed against her throat, Kazuha growled from deep inside her in an intense explosion of pleasure that made her tremble; the tight walls of her pussy nearly crushed your cock due to the strong orgasm she was having, but you didn't give a shit, you just kept fucking her hard through her ecstasy.

"That's right, cum for Daddy and Daddy only, fucking slut," on an impulse you slapped her hard with your right hand, and you would have regretted it right away, but that only made Kazuha squeal and growl even louder, then you noticed that she wanted to say something, so you eased your grip on her neck.

"Please cum inside your little princess daddy," she begged, looking into your eyes, with hair in her face and a few strands sticking to her forehead due to sweat, "Use my pussy however you please! I'm just daddy's cum dump!"

After saying that Kazuha wrapped her legs around your torso, trapping you tightly and pulling you closer to her, that made it much more difficult for you to hold on much longer. You didn't continue to choke her, instead you reached up to the nape of her neck and pulled her hair again, exposing her long, sweaty neck for you to kiss and lick as you gave the last few thrusts before exploding inside her pussy.

Normally you would never have moaned as loudly as you did at that moment, but all the sensations combined were extremely overstimulating for you. You bit into her neck, and then her shoulder, while shooting multiple thick strips of cum onto the walls of her pussy. Kazuha accompanied you with more high moans, which harmonized with yours and made you completely surrender to her. Her thighs tightened on each side of your torso, not letting you go under any circumstances until you left absolutely all your seed inside her.

It took a few slow pumps until your own orgasm passed, you squeezed your eyes shut, and let your head fall forward to rest your forehead on her shoulder. Both of you were breathing hard, as if you had run a marathon, her hair, which had been perfectly ironed before, was now ruined, and even her top was somewhat out of place, crooked on the right side. You stayed inside her for a few long seconds while you both rested, and when you regained your composure, you straightened up and slowly pulled your cock out from between her folds, letting a thick river of hot load spill out from inside her.

"You came a lot this time Daddy..." Kazuha sighed, biting her lip and then using two of her fingers to scoop up some of your cum from her pussy to take directly into her mouth to swallow, "was I a good girl?"

"No, you were anything but that, but you're lucky you drive me crazy," you grabbed her chin, and placed a small kiss on her lips.

"Oh yeah?" she raised an amused eyebrow, knowing that now she could do literally anything without you punishing her for it.

"I don't even know why I open my mouth," you sighed, shaking your head. It was at that moment that you remembered where you were, "Oh shit! We're fucking lucky, get dressed quickly!"

You helped her down from the sink block and then handed over her clothes. You both dressed and got ready as fast as you could, fearing for the first time that someone would walk in and see you both there together. Kazuha took some extra time to make her hair look halfway decent, and she certainly did, but she still looked like she'd been rolled down a hill.

"Fuck, we didn't clean that up," you said, looking at the pool of cum in the sink that dripped onto the floor.

"Never mind! Someone else will clean it up, let's just get out of here," once again, and as if nothing had happened, Kazuha was the one who took your hand and pulled you out of the bathroom.

To your surprise, everything was still exactly the same up there, no one had noticed your presence, and apparently they had not realized that you had been there for a long time, but before you continued walking you stopped when you remembered something. Heejin.

"Baby, go sit down, I need to send a message," you gave Kazuha a small kiss on the temple, and then another on her lips, "I won't be long."

"Yes daddy! I'll be waiting for you," she complied, walking away from you with little totters.

You took out your phone, entering Heejin's chat.

When you finished sending the messages you put your phone back in your pocket, and walked to meet Kazuha again. You didn't want to think about it too much, but you had the feeling that everything was going in a direction that you hadn't thought of from the beginning. You had definitely felt a connection with Kazuha, and you had all kinds of worries about it, but for your own sake and hers you decided to suppress those thoughts, and just dedicated yourself to enjoying the rest of the night with her.

——————————————————————————

Spren Notes:

I have nothing to say, honestly just excuse me for making y'all wait so long for this shit lol. Notably, I didn't realize I'd written 3 different smut scenes until I did, wow, I really got carried away by this girl. Anyway, thank you all so much for reading!

If you, dear reader, are also interested in buying me a commission, do not hesitate to go through my inbox, I’ll be delighted!

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