#once again. clearing posts from my drafts

[vibewithma]

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Sinners Modern!Au

Preacher boy/Sammie x Black Church Girl!Reader

A/N: Clearing up some old drafts🥱 are y’all watching Love Island USA? CAUSE I GOT A LOT TO SAY

When you finally creep back into the house, it’s damn near three in the morning. The rain’s stopped, but your hair’s damp, your lips swollen and your whole body still buzzing with Sammie’s hands, mouth, voice. You’re sure you’re floating.

But soon as you crack your bedroom door open, you’re snatched right back to earth.

Because there, smack in the middle of your bed, is Dawn.

In her faded pink mumu dress, bonnet slightly askew, looking like she’s been posted up thinking deep generational thoughts. Eyes wide, hands folded on her stomach.

You jump, hand flying to your chest. “Girl! You scared me. Why you in here like a lil ghost?”

Dawn squints at you, then sits up slow. “Why you just getting home at three in the morning?”

You ignore that, dropping your purse on the floor. “What’s wrong with you? You look like you been sittin’ with the ancestors.”

She sighs, pats the bed. “Come here.”

You hang your jacket over your stool and crawl in beside her, pulling your knees up. “Alright. Spill. What happened?”

Dawn takes a deep breath. “So… after I left that lil salon? Stack was outside. We talked. It was cool, he was real regular. But then, this woman walked up. With a baby on her hip. Told Stack straight up that’s his child, handed the baby over, then walked off.”

Your eyes snap wide. “What?!”

“Yup.” Dawn flops back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling like it’s got answers. “And he went after her. Left me standin’ there lookin’ dumb. Now I’m over here thinkin’… maybe all them rumors Chris was talkin’ ‘bout? True.”

You bite your lip. You did tell her. But that’s your sister, so instead you rub her shoulder. “Aw, Dawn… I’m sorry, baby. That’s rough. Come on, don’t let it eat you up. It ain’t a reflection on you it’s him. And look, if you wanna stay in here tonight, you can. I don’t mind.”

She nods quickly, sniffling once. “Thank you. I didn’t wanna be by myself.”

So you both shift under the blanket, settling in shoulder to shoulder. It’s quiet for a minute. Then Dawn peeks over at you, eyes narrowing.

“…Where you been, anyway?”

You bust out laughing, face hot. “Oh my days. Okay, okay. Sammie called me after my shower, said he wanted to see me. I told him it was late, he didn’t care. Pulled up on me ten minutes later.”

Dawn sits up on her elbow, instantly nosy. “And??”

You bite your lip, then grin. “He took me to the beach. Had a whole lil picnic set up. We danced… then it started raining so we went in his car.”

“Cute.” Dawn wiggles her brows. “What happened in the car?”

You hide your face in the pillow. “Dawn…”

“Girl! Tell me!”

“…Okay. We were kissing. And then I kinda got in his lap. Started grinding on him.”

Dawn squeals and smacks your arm. “Y/N! I’m so proud of you! Did you do the lil one and two things I showed you? You know the talking, the switching up how you kiss, all that?”

You groan, covering your face. “Yes! I did. And he was losing his mind. Said he wanted to stay like that forever.”

Dawn kicks her feet, giddy. “I trained you well! Look at my Church Girl out here actin’ up.”

“Stop callin’ me that. That’s Sammie’s line,” you mumble, but you’re smiling hard.

Dawn wiggles closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’m really happy for you, Y/N. For real. Even if Stack turn out to be a mess, at least one of us got a man who’s sprung.”

You snuggle closer, pressing your forehead to hers. “You gon’ be alright, Dawn. I promise. Now shut up so we can sleep.”

“Fine… but tomorrow, I want every detail again.”

“Deal.”

And with that, you both drift off, giggling like kids, the best kind of safe.

It’s already Sunday and the air outside the church is thick with summer heat and the sweet scent of someone’s peach cobbler drifting from the fellowship hall. Folks fan themselves on the front steps, catching up on gossip before service. You stand there too, trying to listen to Dawn chatter about some girl’s awful hat, but your mind is far, far away.

Because Sammie’s not here.

He always comes, even if he slips in late, head ducked, giving you that crooked grin like he’s got a secret just for you. But today? Nowhere.

You keep glancing back at the lot, hoping to see that his car roll in. But there’s nothing but old Buicks and deacons’ Chevys.

And it stings.

Because it’s not just that he’s not here, it’s that he hasn’t texted you.

Not once.

Not since that night.

That night in his car when your hands were in his curls and his hands were everywhere, warm and needy, making you forget your own name.

You thought it meant something.

Thought he’d at least send a “you good?” or a “last night was crazy, huh?”

But you’ve got nothing.

So when you sit down in your usual pew, your heart is heavy. Every hymn sounds like it’s about you, every scripture feels like a low blow. When the Pastor Moore says, “Be careful giving your heart to someone who only wants your body,” your throat tightens up so bad you can barely swallow.

You peek over at Dawn, hoping she didn’t notice the way you flinched. But of course she did. She squeezes your hand.

“Still nothing from him?” she whispers.

You just shake your head, eyes glued to the pulpit.

“Girl… you don’t think he just wanted…” She trails off, but you know what she means.

“That’s exactly what I been thinking,” you murmur, voice cracking despite how hard you try to keep it steady. “That he just wanted to… you know. Get me like that. And now he’s done.”

Dawn frowns, squeezing your hand tighter. “Y/N, no. He don’t seem like that. He always looking at you like you’re a blessing he don’t deserve.”

You let out a hollow little laugh. “Yeah, well. Guess I was wrong. Should’ve listened to my own sermons about temptation, huh?”

Dawn bumps your shoulder. “Stop. Don’t do that. You’re allowed to want somebody. And it didn’t seem one-sided to me.”

Still, you can’t shake it. Not through the rest of service, not through the old lady hugs on the way out.

Because your phone stays quiet.

No call.

No text.

No Sammie.

And for the first time, you really wonder if he ever wanted more than just the feel of you in his lap and your mouth on his.

If maybe you were just a warm, pretty thing to make him forget his troubles for a night and now he’s moved on.

And that thought sits in your chest like a stone, heavy and cold, all the way home.

The sun is starting to dip low, painting the sky with streaks of lavender and fire, and the neon sign above the door to the Juke Joint finally hums to life.

Tonight’s the night.

Opening night.

Inside, the club is alive with anticipation bass checks rumble through the floor, lights swirl lazily overhead. People are already milling around outside, waiting for the doors to open. Smoke stands by the DJ booth adjusting wires, Stack is checking the bar inventory, and Sammie? He’s pacing.

He runs a hand through his curls, eyes darting to the entrance every few seconds.

“Boy, you look like somebody’s nervous groom,” Stack teases, wiping his hands on a bar rag.

“Man, shut up,” Sammie mutters, even though a smirk tugs at his lips.

Then the door swings open again and in comes Cornbread, the mountain of a man who serves as their bouncer, fresh from talking to the crowd outside.

“Yo,” Cornbread rumbles, voice low and gravelly. “Y’all got a line out there. They ready. I told ‘em we open in fifteen.”

“Bet,” Smoke nods, adjusting his chain. “Keep it tight, you know how Clarksdale get.”

Cornbread just gives a solemn nod, then disappears back outside.

Meanwhile behind the bar, Annie is wiping down glasses, her thick curls piled on top of her head. She looks tired, like she’d rather be anywhere else, but when Sammie catches her eye she gives him a small smile.

“You owe me for this, you know that right?” she calls over, only half joking.

Sammie laughs, walking over to lean against the bar. “Yeah, yeah. I appreciate you, though. Couldn’t think of nobody else I’d trust on that side of the counter.”

Annie sighs. “Don’t butter me up, Preacher Boy. Just tip me good.”

Stack slides over, snatching a lemon wedge off the bar. “You know he will. Man got a whole church girl on his mind these days, trying to live righteous or whatever.”

Sammie rolls his eyes. “Bruh, shut—”

But just then the door swings open again and in walks Mary.

She’s dressed in a tight little dress that hugs her hips, brown hair cascading down her shoulders. You wouldn’t immediately peg her as someone with Black roots the only clue is the slight curl in her baby hairs.

“Look who the devil dragged in,” Stack mutters under his breath, jaw tightening.

Mary’s eyes land on him immediately. They’re sharp, a little playful, but underneath you can see old wounds.

“Well ain’t this nice,” she purrs, sauntering up to the bar. “Your little place finally opened. You gonna buy me a drink to celebrate, Eli?”

Stack gives her a look like he’s been chewing lemons. “Nah. But you welcome to buy your own.”

Mary laughs, all throaty and mean. “I hear you, Eli. But the next time you want ne to come over remember this day.”

Smoke just snickers from where he’s perched on a stool, lighting a cigarette. “Damn. Y’all need therapy.”

Sammie, meanwhile, just shakes his head and tries to keep his mind off of you. But it’s hard especially when Mary throws him a sly wink.

“Hey, Preacher Boy. Tell your cousin here to stop acting like he didn’t cry over me.”

Stack practically growls, turning away, and Sammie just lifts his hands. “Don’t pull me into this mess. I got my own stress tonight.”

Mary leans over the bar, close enough for her perfume to hit Sammie in the face. “Where’s your little church girl at tonight? Heard you finally found someone sweet to ruin.”

Sammie stiffens, eyes going cold. “Watch your mouth, Mary.”

“Ooooh, touched a nerve.” She laughs again, then slides off to find another victim, hips swaying like she knows every pair of eyes is on her.

Annie shakes her head. “Lord, I see why your mama prayed so hard over this club.”

Stack just grunts, turning back to inventory. Smoke blows out a puff of smoke and chuckles.

And Sammie? He leans back against the bar, staring at the door, praying you walk through it. Because tonight was supposed to be perfect music, lights, new beginnings.

But all he can think about is how he messed up not calling you back.

And how maybe, just maybe, he’s gotta fix that before this place really feels like something worth celebrating.

Taglist:

@https://www.tumblr.com/cosmicautomatonshark @https://www.tumblr.com/fanfictiononly4 @https://www.tumblr.com/pinkpantheris @andthatsonmaryhadalillamb @sweetalittleselfish-honey @bleufu1 @https://www.tumblr.com/fruitypatooties-blog @heyyimmisunderstood @https://christinabae.tumblr.com/ @https://www.tumblr.com/jackierose902109 @https://www.tumblr.com/jaybbygrl

[psychopomp-namine]

do you think we'll uncover the story behind the first picture before we do the second

[ceiling-karasu]

Hi, just want to let you know that I’ve always enjoy reading your tags, it’s a lot of fun reading your clever insights and observations on my arts. I really appreciate them.✨

Your art improve amazingly over these past few months and I’m looking forward to the direction it will take in the future. I also admire your dedication when it comes to writing, finishing 30+ chapters series is definitely not an easy tasks and I think that’s really cool. \(^^ )

Thank you very much! I'm looking forward to completing another 30+ chapters series in the future.

I really like your art and how the color schemes seem to match the personalities of the characters. They always look so crisp with the right amount of style on character positioning.

I always thought it was really cool how you managed to have so much detailed backstories and world building, alongside managing to create pictures and comics to go along with the chapters and stories you write. It has been really inspirational!

Although, funny, enough, I have been thinking about asking you if you had any preferences on sources to start researching universal aviation codes and the differences in between civilian and military planes, jets, helicopters, and airships, and which you think might sound better when used by militaries vs civilians. I think I am going to have to do a lot of studying on IATA, ICAO, PAT, Mode-S, VFR, and transponders, as well as codes used in towered vs non towered airports. I feel like I am going to have to do a lot of study on aviation and plane/jet/drone schematics for future chapters.

[expectiations]

My favorite random Doctor Who fun fact is that Five apparently talked too much about River that Tegan asked him to shut up.

[arolesbianism]

Me sitting and watching any oni discussion waiting for an excuse to bring up a seed is planted all like 🤓👉👈

[sheep-from-rad]

Idea! Neglected bar singer darling.

The joint they sing in is on the very outskirts of Gotham. The bars in the basement of a restaurant.

Its pretty clear darling is saving up money to slowly inch away from Gotham and from there neglectful and sometimes (often) cold family.

So they dress as a Him/femme/them fatale and saunter up to the stage and sing there lil heart out and get both the thrill of all the attention in a room being on them and the money in there tip jar to boot.

Imagine what happens when a clip of darling singing goes fucking viral. (I'd like to think it's would be "be your baby tonight" give it a listen if you want. I like norah jones' cover)

What I'm saying is there is no way any of the batfam would approve of darlings career choice.

I love this kind of asks!~ Requests are now open again but we warned, I'm a snail paced writer T__T This took a while because I have this habit where I write it down first on paper before typing it. Like I make a draft first and reread before typing it to see if I should add more or remove some. First fic about singer reader: here and part 2 here. 😅

**DC characters belong to DC and I don't give permission to feed my writings to AI. Thank you**

Masterlist(Batfam)

Masterlist (All of my other fics)

divider by: @k1ssyoursister

Okay okay, here me out. I know you said secret bar under a restaurant but my brain read the word ‘bar’ and ran away with it 😭. 

You know what this smells like? Scandal and maybe even a disaster waiting to happen too. You know what's a famous bar in Gotham? The Iceberg lounge that is run by Mr. Cobblepot (Penguin) and  is frequented by rogues  such as Riddler. 

Life in the Iceberg Lounge isn't that bad, maybe intimidating at first but it became a small comfort. Mr. Cobblepot lets you keep the tips, the lounge beauties (Raven, Lark, and Jay) are great companies, and workplace harassment? You don't really have to worry about that. If you ever get flirted on or harassed by small fries and drunkards and then rest assured a bigger, scarier person at the back of the crowd will beat the harasser and throw them out. They might be villains but they have standards and harassing the lounge’s songbird is a big no no! 

The clip of the singer reader went viral for a ton of different reasons: (1) The singing and the amount of simps you raked 24 hours after the clip has been posted. I have a headcanon that Mr. Cobblepot will nickname you as either Nightingale or Songbird to fit the crew because the lounge beauties are nicknamed after birds.(2) People can see villains just chilling at the background of the video. Riddler's nursing a whiskey at the counter, Two face is playing chess with Penguin who is multitasking in helping mix some drinks. Hell, even Harley and Ivy are in the background having a moment with the strippers.

(3) Why is Bruce Wayne’s kid at the Iceberg lounge? I have a teeny tiny headcanon that even though the reader was neglected they are still forced to attend galas once or twice because Bruce won't and then it will be like a big media scandal. Also reader's public appearances with Bruce or with the other Wayne children might be low but they still have hundreds of followers. The Wayne name alone is basically a celebrity name because of Bruce being heavily revered by the public. Think of it like nepobaby shit. (4) That stage presence and sheer seductiveness. Being a Wayne, I'm sure the reader was taught etiquette by Alfred and was taught how to dress properly. They are also taught how to behave. However on that vid, you look like you were dressed by the Gotham sirens (Ivy, Harley, and Selena) themselves. All those good boy, good girl, good child stuff are out of the window. If the reader was just blending in the background before and the video is the opposite. It's almost commanding every viewer to look at them, pay attention to them, worship the very ground they walk on, and love them! At this point just expect simps. 

The family loves the video but at the same time they also hate it. They had their copies downloaded and saved and then they'll immediately task Barbara into scrubbing the video off of the internet but it's too late. The video has been re-uploaded to hundreds of different accounts and some  news outlets had already published articles about it. The articles ranged from sweet ones like praising the reader for their awesome stage performance and singing to downright insane clickbaits like ‘Bruce Wayne secretly allied with Gotham rogues?’ 

The whole thing is very stressful and I pray to the DC gods that Bruce Wayne is very healthy because this guy's blood pressure might as well go high up. Imagine trying so hard to keep up with the ditzy playboy public persona to hide your vigilante secret identity only for your kid to be filmed singing and being cozy at the Iceberg lounge. Not only that! You also placed yourself in danger too! It's not a secret that a lot of rouges knew Batman's real identity (Joker knows it, he just doesn't care. He's so cool for that). Sure they don't attack Batman when he's Bruce and sure they are a sweet pseudo-family to you right now but who's to say that they won't use you when push comes to shove? 

While Bruce deals with the media, Barbara and Tim work on the damage control and tracking every video, expect heavy guilt tripping and interference from Damian, Dick, and even Alfred (in his defense, he wants you safe and will only ask for you to get a better job or at least work in a place not frequented by villains). Dick will be actively poisoning the well. He'll make you sit down and read the crime archives with him (starting from the heaviest crime down to the pettiest crime) and will tell you stories about their encounters with each of them. Damian will try to keep you from getting to work and will try to keep you in your room if you haven't moved out of the estate. He'll ask you to go around with him, feed his pets with him and even asked you to watch him train (he doesn't know how bonding works, please be understanding). If you had left the estate and then expect him to show up and walk in your place like he owns it. He's one of those cats that you feed once and then suddenly shows up and won't leave you alone anymore. 

Oh, you still won't come home? You still wanna continue that dangerous job of yours? Pick your poison then. Do you want them to call Jason to get to the bar and take you home, knowing him some heads will sure go flying. Or do you want the family to stage a stakeout, infiltrate the bar, and capture and lock up all the villains forever. Go on, go choose. 

[chrrific]

FEEL THE RU$H ✷ 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁

𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝒊𝗩𝗔 𓈒 your boyfriend flustering you.

❪ 𝖬𝑖𝖠 𝖢𝖠𝖱𝖠 ❫ bf ! enhypen x f ! r O958 headcannon fluff ╱ 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 kissing skinship teasing

미키 ✉️ i don’t like this too much, but i’m posting it because it’s ready and i want to clear my drafts TT might have gone a bit overboard with jake’s but oh well .. enjoy reading ><

reblogs get ⸝⸝ you kisses

HEESEUNG

the buzz of the refrigerator and hum of the ceiling fan are the only sounds filling the living room, save for heeseung’s quiet breaths. his arm is draped over your waist as he observes you for a moment, a lazy grin taking over his godsend features.

confused, you make an attempt to turn to him, but he cuts you off rudely when he leans in to press a lingering kiss to the crook of your neck, the press of his lips just enough to make your stomach churn, a surprised gasp leaving your lips at his actions. smirking, he pulls back a hint, his voice a teasing lilt coated in mock innocence. “you like that, don’t you?” 

JONGSEONG

the overwhelming scent of spices and salt wafted through the air, leading you out of bed and into the kitchen, only for you to reveal jay, sleeves rolled up to reveal a hint of his toned forearms, hair falling over his eyes and tanned skin as he leans over the stovetop. his eyes light up when he spots you, and his arms instinctively wrap around your waist to close the space keeping his body away from yours.

your side hits his with a soft thud, and that’s when you notice how his fingers trace small circles into the left of your waist, and just how close he is. just enough for the scent of his cologne to infiltrate your senses much more than the spice does, and you could swear your heart stutters in your chest as he pulls you closer while continually stirring whatever was in the pot. 

JAEYUN

something about seeing your flushed face sends a rush of adrenaline through jake’s blood every time he kissed you. and here he is now, seeking for the thrill of it once again. his lips teasingly brush against your own, his fingers silently interlocking with yours as he holds them pinned up securely above your head. he smirked when you gasped as your back hit the wall less than a few moments ago, and it hasn’t even made an attempt to fade since.

you try leaning forward to slot your mouth with his: he ends up doing it for you. when you both finally pull away, lips swollen, he hums against yours, murmuring softly as the smirk comes back. “i love seeing you like this, all flustered. it makes you even prettier than you are—that’s a record, by the way.”

it is definitely an indisputable truth that jake sim is a certified flirt. 

SUNGHOON

your fingers desperately tried to wrap around the peanut butter jar on the shelf, but your efforts all went in vain as the jar just pushed itself back further into the cupboard. you’re legitimately on the very tips of your toes, so much that you could almost consider it as pointe, craning your neck upwards to catch a glimpse of the elusive peanut butter.

just as you were about to begin another attempt in reaching it, you felt the warmth of a presence behind you, the heat just barely brushing your back. you weren’t even able to react at the suddenness of his appearance as sunghoon hands you the jar, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, “next time, all you have to do is ask and i’ll get it for you, doll.” 

SUNOO

the world stills whenever sunoo touches you—the way his fingers cradle your cheek, as if you’re a precious jewel, how he runs this hands through your hair and whispers your name in a way so reverent it should be reserved for religion. his arms are currently wrapped around your waist, holding you against his body heat in the silence of the night.

you felt his eyes linger on your form, and you turned around to look at him. he just smiles at you, his right dimple showing as he runs his fingers gently over the skin of your arm, causing goosebumps to erupt on it. your breath hitches and ears turn pink, and it doesn’t go unnoticed; he doesn’t say anything about it, though, because he’s too focused on the way you feel in his arms. 

JUNGWON

the weight of jungwon’s stare is too much—too heavy, too strong, way too flustering. you can feel your cheeks burning like fire under it, and you know that he can tell. “flustered, hm?” his words have your heart beating even faster, face flushing more at the sight of his signature grin stretching over his visage. “i like it when you’re all nervous. lets me know how much i really affect you.”

huffing, you turn away, determined to not let him see how much power he really does hold over you. then, fingers grasp your chin and jaw, slowly guiding your eyes back to his cat-like ones, and you’re absolutely sure he can hear just how loud he can made your heart beat.

RIKI

it started innocent enough, with niki chasing you around your apartment for creeping up on him when you got back home. but somehow, as the play-fight continued, you ended up with your back pressed on your bed, with him hovering on top of you, face—lips, too—inches from yours.

you were breathless from the running, and yet, his presence knocked the oxygen out of your lungs yet again, making your heart race faster, if that was even possible with the way it was knocking painfully against your rib cage.

the way his hair was messy, lips parted as he raked his gaze over your face, it made your words catch in your throat. “you’re blushing, baby.” he drawls, running his fingers up and down your side a little bit too casually. you avert your gaze, knowing very well that he knows what he does to you ..

taglist open requests open

[randomshyperson]

hiii😸

i wanna request wanda with hugs no. 31😻 ur fluff is so good i want to bash my head into the wall

/pos

hope u get free from ur writer's block!!😻

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: hugging while straddling the partner | words: 2066k | warnings: (+18), dark(ish)!wanda, smut, bottom!reader, dom!wanda mainly, implied variant death sorry, but happy ending for the main.

a/n-> this is the last one actually, i got my drafts confused if you saw more in the masterlist you didn't. i won't be posting anything for a while now just to write new series but I won't be gone for long I hope.

challenge masterlist | general masterlist

-&-

Considering all the things that had happened until she reached this moment, Wanda expected there to be more noise.

Fighting. Or even pain.

Two years and six hundred and eighty-four universes and she had finally found you.

Not a fallen hero version, not an evil clone, not a dead wife.

Just you, available, alive and asleep.

The room was dimly lit by the rays of sunlight that passed through the half-open curtain. Her variant must have gotten up early to prepare breakfast, and Wanda took complete control before she could even open the door. She took in little of the room, mostly focused on your sleeping figure in the bed in the corner, peaceful and vulnerable.

Five universes ago a variant of you had tried to arrest her for crimes against the multiverse, so this calmness was quite the bonus.

She quickly inspected the most recent memories before the deepest ones. This Wanda didn't know she loved you like that, not yet. Young and naive, this variant was rewarded with an entire childhood and adolescence by your side. Friends since kindergarten, the deep intimacy between you was beautiful to watch. Easy to envy.

It was a sadistic joke that in all the universes, she was the only one having a miserable life.

Controlling her own irritation, Wanda pushed those memories away and sighed deeply. You moved, searching for her warmth in the mattress and she wondered if your variant was already sure of what she knew many universes ago. You were made for each other.

She watched you with some curiosity. She still wasn't sure how she would do it. She hardly had a clear plan. She took very deliberate actions now, which was probably why she always ended up with some wizard on the way, close to some interdimensional prison.

But as you woke up, Wanda felt around that reality. There was magic like most, but it wasn't as strong even in the body she occupied now. This Wanda was a beginner witch, with simple levitation or tarot tricks that she could use to make you laugh in admiration.

Your sleepy figure finally opened its eyes, felt the bed, turned your face, and faced her standing in the middle of the room. Wanda felt so small, not at all like the great Scarlet Witch. She was almost like a child, eager to please. To be liked. When you frowned at her, she wondered if you were already able to tell she was a fraud, an impostor.

But your expression softened, and you chucked hoarsely.

 "Were you watching me sleep? Creep."

Oh, you had no idea.

Wanda swallowed, forcing a chuckle. "I wasn't." She lies quickly, pushing away emotional nausea as your tousled-haired, sleepy-eyed figure brings back similar memories of a life she doesn't know how to get back. She clears her throat and looks away so you don't see the tears welling up in her eyes. "I was just going to get breakfast. Do you want anything?"

"Yeah." You chuckle relaxedly, patting the mattress as you rest your elbows on the bed, your back against the headboard. "Come back to bed. It's too damn early."

She sees it then, when the sheet loses in your body and she catches a glimpse of your neck full of purple marks. The most recent memories are indeed different from what she searched for before. Peeking again, it's a bit overwhelming to be invaded by the sensations of your kisses and groping all at once, a night of steamy making out in that bed, after a college party that ended long after the time you and the variant returned to this dorm. Wanda sighs, realizing that this body misses your touch just as much as she does. So addictive for every single one of her, no matter the universe.

But her silence brings a hesitation to your face, and you settle better in bed. 

"Hey, if this is about last night..." You begin, a little awkwardly with a nervous giggle. One of your hands pushes your hair back in a nervous gesture, and Wanda gasps softly. The tattoo on her forearm has very familiar symbols. She searched every corner of the multiverse and ended up with a punk covered in protective runes. This was Strange's work, of course. He was probably going to as many worlds as she was. Protecting variants before Wanda could reach them. Take them for herself. You, oblivious to the whole thing, kept talking. "It's okay if you regret it. We don't even have to talk about it if it's weird. I mean, if you want we can even go back to being just friends, I definitely don't want to lose-"

"You're not." She cuts you off, taking steps towards the bed. You fall silent in surprise, but Wanda forces a smile. "Where did you get that tattoo again?"

You frown at the sudden change of subject, stammering a little as you try to remember and then finally laugh, looking at her with some confusion. "It's just reindeer, remember? That strange woman made it for us at the beach last week. It should go away soon."

Wanda searched a little more and found the memory you mentioned. Beach, friends, witches she didn't know, that this variant didn't know how to perceive yet. A witch using the opportunity to draw protective spells on your skin as if she could read the danger in your future.

She took a deep breath and walked closer until she felt her shins hit your bed.

"Maybe you should take it off now."

You hum absently, looking at the tattoo. "Why? I liked it. You also said it was pretty. Maybe I could even make it permanent-"

"No!" She snaps back through gritted teeth, startling you a little. Forcing a smile then, Wanda considers the options. She probably can't mess with your memory right now, maybe she can keep you calm, until she finds an appropriate solution. "I just... I think your first tattoo should be something more meaningful, sweetheart. And not some cheap art from a charlatan, huh?"

You frown, before your chucle again, looking at her with confusion. "Wanda, are you high?" We got our first tattoos together in high school. Have you really forgotten that?" You look upset. Wanda hates this. Hates it with all her might. Out of everything she’s ever done, hurting you is probably the most painful and stupid thing she ever did.

She shakes her head, forcing a giggle. She bends her knees and crawls towards you, which immediately wipes the frown off your face.

Young people and their hormones.

“Oh, babe, I just got confused. I’m sorry.” She begins, and you swallow hard as she takes her place on your lap. Your hands hesitate on the mattress until Wanda grabs them and moves to her waist. “Don’t be upset.”

With your mouth dry, you try, “I’m not.” but it comes out so hoarse that Wanda wouldn’t have heard it if she hadn’t been so close. Her hands close behind your head, and you wait for her to make the first move like the good girl you’ve always been no matter what universe.

Wanda shouldn’t risk it, but she can’t resist. You seem so eager for her to do it too that she doesn’t have the heart not to. The kiss starts out innocent, tentative. She wants to know the extent of the protection runes, and eventually, she realizes that you were right about the ink coming off. Wanda manages to turn you into a mess of breathless whispers as she slides her tongue against yours, and once your arms are tightening around her waist, invading beneath her shirt, she can feel the runes melting in your skin, until finally, she feels no magic resistance. You are all hers to play with.

But like everything else she’s done, Wanda didn’t quite calculate what kissing you would do to her. The effect on her body is ridiculously incapacitating and distracting. She knows she should be muttering spells, but all that comes out of her mouth are affected gasps. Your hands move down, grabbing her ass and grinding her against your lap and Wanda forgets what she came here to do.

"I cannot believe..." You groan suddenly, between one kiss and another. "That we've gone so long without doing this." Wanda bites your lip, pulling and making you whimper, the sound sending a sharp throb through her belly. Your dilated pupils stare at her with such adoration that Wanda needs a moment.

She remembers those looks. She remembers everything. And it's only fair that you remember too.

Coming closer, she kisses you more fervently now. Enough to make you squirm on the mattress, trying to pull her down, increase the friction between your hips. But Wanda knows the passion will turn, so she controls the kiss, controls everything.

One of her hands wraps around your hair, and she's still kissing you, taking the air from your lungs as the first memories dance in flashes behind your eyes.

You frown in confusion, trying to pull away, but Wanda kisses you again, and again until you gasp in shock and her magic goes deeper into your mind, invading you without you even realizing it.

Wanda's free hand suddenly goes inside your pants and you gasp against her mouth, surprised by the touch before surrendering completely to her.

Wanda pants into your mouth, and red irises glare at you when you break the kiss with a moan. She's not gentle, her fingers pushing your panties aside and not bothering to collect much of the surrounding moisture before sinking inside, filling you up all at once. She twists her hand, pushing deeper and you whimper into her mouth. Oh, how Wanda missed feeling you like this, coming undone against her fingers. 

There’s a flash of memories again, of a team of heroes and a battle, but Wanda adjusts her hand and her palm presses against your clit, and you break into a moan and throw your head forward on her shoulder. She hums in satisfaction, the hand that’s not inside your pants moving past your hair, to your back in an attempt to calm you. 

The memories will get worse, you’ll remember everything eventually. 

Wanda knows that sooner or later you will- Your hand wraps around her throat suddenly. She’s startled, of course, but the sound sounds much more like a moan than a protest of pain. Your eyes glow the same scarlet as hers, and the once-innocent expression carries a maturity that only memories of a lifetime could give you. Your hips are still moving—hard and fast against her hand, but Wanda feels much less in charge. You squeeze her neck as you come, and she feels so ridiculously turned on that she can barely move her fingers, being used up in the final waves of your climax. Not a second later, your hand pushes hers away, and her body is pushed next. Pressed against the bed with you on top, instead of holding her neck, you hold both your hands above her head.

"I don't know what the fuck is going on, but this is a very welcome way to bring someone back to life."

She chuckles affectedly, with emotion, with lust. A little - a lot - of both. But in the end, emotion wins. The tears in her eyes are indeed from longing.

"It's so good to see you again, darling." She says hoarsely, her hands still clasped on top of her head.

You sigh, loosening your grip without letting go of her. "Wanda, how..." But she looks like she'll start crying, for real, if you have to explain. You sigh again in defeat and soften your gaze. "How about that coffee? And you explain everything to me calmly."

She nods, smiling tearfully. "You'll have to get off of me first." She jokes, but you look at her mouth and get a little closer to her face. 

"Yeah, in a minute. I don't know how long it's been, honey, but you've managed to get even more stunning." 

She laughs shyly. "Good to know you're still a flirt." 

"Only with my girl." That's what you say before closing the distance. Wanda doesn't need to think about anything or worry as long as she has this. No multiverse, no possible dead variants. She has you, and that's all that matters.

[sowerpatch]

terms of play [chapter 2 - game interrupted]

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Summary: Azzi Fudd built the Golden Valkyries on a dare, but drafting Paige Bueckers was all strategy. Fresh off an NCAA title, Paige is everything the team needs—and everything Azzi shouldn’t want.

Officially, it’s all business. Unofficially, it’s glances that linger too long and touches that mean too much.

Author's note: this is an AU where Azzi owns the Golden State Valkyries and drafts Paige. Azzi's family are all original characters. Also, Azzi is three years older than Paige.

*CHAPTER LIST HERE*

Chapter Summary: Azzi juggles her brother's corporate fallout and the secret launch of a WNBA team. With the draft looming and pressure mounting, she's confronted by a moment she wasn't ready for. One that makes her feel alive for the first time in months.

Warning: Mentions of substance or drug usage

Word count: 4,309

Chicago Midway International Airport, Chicago. July 2024. 

The Chicago air clung to her skin like sweat under a lie. Heavy. Sweet with jet fuel, salt, and something metallic underneath—old money gone stale. It wrapped itself around her the moment she stepped off the tarmac, heels striking the concrete with a sound too crisp for this heat. 

Azzi didn’t blink. 

The Gulfstream’s door folded back behind her with a pneumatic sigh. She walked like time owed her something. Measured. Controlled. Every step sharpening the blade of her silhouette. Her white blazer was tailored within a quarter inch of menace, sleeves creased so clean they looked like they’d never known compromise. 

A man in a Fudd Corp lanyard jogged toward her, already out of breath. His dress shirt bleeding through with sweat. Tie askew, mouth moving before his feet even stopped. 

“Ms. Fudd. Sorry for the short notice. Mr. Fudd said you’d be briefed on the flight, but, uh,” he stammered, fumbling with a leather binder. “We compiled a new packet. The numbers shifted again this morning. Sunrise Energy demands to withdraw. It’s bad.” 

He pushed the folder toward her with both hands, fingers trembling just enough to notice. 

She took the binder, flipping it open one-handed. The pages rustled like leaves before a storm. Her thumb found Clause 7 in seconds, gaze flicking over the language with the kind of detachment people usually reserved for post-mortems. 

“Has Legal redlined the new language in Clause 7?” she asked, still reading. 

The man paused. “I… don’t think so. Not yet.” 

She looked up for the first time. Not at him. Through him. 

“Have it marked and in my suite before eight,” she said. “The escrow language misfire gets corrected before the call. If that ambiguity's still in the term sheet, we lose this deal.” 

Her voice was quiet. Flat. The kind of quiet that ended conversations. 

She didn’t wait for acknowledgment. She never did.  

The SUV door opened as she reached it, the driver stepping out without meeting her eyes. Smart. He held the door just long enough for her to glide in. Once inside, she pulled the binder onto her lap and leaned back into cool leather, shutting out the sun behind a sheet of bulletproof glass. 

The AC hummed low, the smell of citrus and gun oil in the vents. 

Azzi closed her eyes briefly, not to rest, but to replay the folder’s language in her mind. Numbers. Names. The bones of power. 

- 

Presidential Suite at the Waldorf Astoria Chicago, Chicago. July 2024. 

The suite smelled like stale espresso and lemon-scented furniture polish. Papers were stacked across the dining table in uneven piles, some marked with neon tabs, others curling at the edges. Azzi stood at the window, phone pressed to her ear, gaze locked on the blur of highway outside. 

“Have you heard from him?” her father asked, voice low but clear. 

She pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “No. Last update I got, he left the client dinner early. Canceled his flight. Radio silent since Monday.” 

There was a pause.  

“He’s using again.” 

Azzi didn’t speak. 

“His apartment’s trashed. There’s a lock on the office suite. I had the building manager send me photos.” Her father exhaled heavily. 

She leaned into the wall, resting her forehead against the cool glass. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know this isn’t your responsibility.” 

“It never is until it is.” 

“Azzi—” 

“I’ve cleaned up after him before. I’ll do it again.” Her voice stayed even, if detached. “I pushed the Folsom audit forward. I’m rewriting the German solar contract myself, and I looped in a Florida consultant for the zoning mess he left behind. His entire division is running through my office now.” 

“I know.” 

“Dad,” she said, finally turning away from the window, “this isn’t sustainable.” 

“I didn’t ask you to fix it.” 

“You didn’t have to.” 

Another silence. Longer this time. 

“I know you have your own company. Your own world. And the basketball thing... you don’t talk about it much, but I know what it means to you.” 

“I’m not walking away from the Valkyries.” 

“I’m not asking you to,” he said gently. “I’m just saying thank you. I see what you’re doing. Even if Trey doesn’t.” 

Azzi sat down, her eyes landing on a copy of the Valkyries initial branding deck still half-wrapped in printer rubber bands. “The league’s been calling,” she said after a beat. “Nika keeps covering for me, but they want a face. A name. They're demanding ownership needs to go public by next quarter.” 

“I'll handle your brother. Do you think you’ll be done with everything before next year’s draft?” 

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “It's doable.”  

He didn’t argue. Just said, “Call me if you need anything.”  

“I will,” Azzi hung up. 

The silence that followed stretched, thick and familiar. 

Then, her phone buzzed again. 

Incoming Call: Nika Muhl 

Azzi answered. “Hey.” 

“You alive?” Nika asked, sharp. 

“Define alive.” 

“I swear to God, if you give me another non-answer—” 

“I’m breathing, I’m reading contracts, and I’m doing damage control. That good enough?” 

“You’re a ghost.” 

Azzi let out a breath and leaned back. “I talked to my dad. Trey relapsed.” 

There was a pause on the other end. 

Nika’s tone softened just slightly. “Shit. I’m sorry.” 

“I’m cleaning up his contracts, smoothing over his investors, rewriting his deals on four hours of sleep. The Valkyries haven’t stalled, but I can’t exactly front a startup when I’m too busy bailing out my brother’s name.” 

“Well, while you’re playing cleanup, the league’s getting nervous,” Nika said. “They’ve called three times this week, and I’ve run out of excuses.” 

“I told you, I’ll handle it.” 

“And I told them you would,” Nika shot back. “But media’s circling now. There’s already a Reddit thread with guesses. One of them thinks it’s Beyoncé. Another says it’s a hedge fund.” 

Azzi winced. “That’s absurd.” 

“So is hiding your name this close to the draft.” 

She rubbed her temple. “I’m not ready to be the headline.” 

“It’s not about headlines anymore. The team exists, Azzi. It has a schedule. It has salary caps. It has interns. You can’t be invisible and in charge.” 

There was a beat. 

“I’m not dropping this. You know what you built. But the league wants a sit-down before the mock draft next quarter. PR has patched together a stall, but it’s unraveling.” 

“I’ll call them tomorrow.” 

“I already had Ines book the slot. Thursday, 10 a.m.” 

Azzi blinked. “You didn’t clear that with me?” 

“I stopped clearing things when you started ghosting me.” 

She didn’t argue. Couldn’t. 

“Take a shower. Drink something with electrolytes,” Nika said. “You’re starting to sound like Trey.” 

The line went dead. 

Azzi sat there, staring at the mockups of Valkyries merch strewn under legal contracts and court filings. The black and purple jerseys peeked out from beneath a stack of tax compliance reports. Silver trim catching soft hotel light. 

- 

Storrs, Connecticut. September 2024. 

The gym was winding down, but the heat still lingered in the air. Practice was over, jerseys clinging to skin, hair tied up and out of the way. UConn didn’t do chill. Even cool-downs felt competitive. 

KK sprawled out near the sideline, legs splayed, breathing steady. Ice Brady sat up against the bleachers, sipping on a water bottle she’d barely touched. Paige Bueckers was flat on her back at half court, arms folded behind her head, smirking up at the ceiling like it told jokes. 

KK stretched, groaned, then turned to the others. “Yo, I was deep in the Reddit trenches last night. Valkyries thread been going stupid.” 

Ice looked over. “That the new team?” 

“Yeah. People wild guessing who owns it. First theory was Beyoncé. This month is Elon Musk.” 

Paige made a face. “Man, if Musk touches women’s hoops, I’m transferring to Europe.” 

KK laughed. “You think I’m playin’? Someone said the jerseys gon’ charge Teslas.” 

Ice shook her head. “I think it’s somebody boring. Rich, quiet, doesn’t post. One of them art collector types with three last names.” 

“Nah,” Paige cut in, still on the floor. “Gotta be someone with cash and chaos. Like, ‘I bought a WNBA team because Daddy says I can’t buy Mars’ type energy.” 

“You volunteering?” 

“Bet.” Paige grinned. “Let me win this natty first, then I’ll buy the whole league.” 

KK shot her a look.   

Paige sat up and wiped sweat from her neck. “I swear, if I get drafted by some old creepy hedge fund dude named Chris, I’m demandin’ a trade before I land.” 

Ice leaned in, amused. “Focus on the threepeat, Superstar. Let the billionaires sort themselves out.” 

“I am focused. I’m locked in.” Paige smirked. “Just sayin’, I ain't tryna hoop for some old man who thinks WNBA stands for Where’s My Bartender At.” 

That got Ice laughing. 

“Speaking of rich people,” KK said, getting serious again, “did y’all hear the latest on Azzi Fudd?” 

Both heads turned. That name still hit a certain way. 

“She been runnin’ her family's company while her brother’s MIA. Rumors say he checked into rehab again. But instead of lettin’ it fold, she picked up the slack. Closed some wild client deals.” 

“Wait, doesn't she have her own company too?” Ice asked. “Fudd Holdings or something.” 

“Yeah. And she’s still helping run that foundation for girls in STEM. On top of all that, she’s been cleaning up Fudd Corp since her brother dipped. Press barely touches it, but people online know.” 

Paige let out a low whistle. “Shorty out here runnin’ corporations and savin’ the youth. Wild.” 

KK nodded. “Reddit thread sayin’ she’s a damn role model. Never makes it about her, either. Just handles it.” 

“Real CEO energy,” Ice said. “I like that.” 

“Same,” Paige muttered. “Can’t lie—she's hot.” 

KK raised an eyebrow. “Since when you into corporate chicks?” 

Paige smirked. “Y’all seen that press photo from last week’s gala? All sharp jaw and mean eyes. She looks like she’ll ruin your life and invoice you after.” 

Ice laughed. “You tryna get humbled.” 

“I’m tryna get claimed,” Paige said, licking her lips like she meant it. “She tells me to sit, I’m askin’ how low.” 

KK groaned, covering her face. “You need Jesus.” 

Paige leaned back on her elbows, that smug grin still stretched across her face. “Nah, I need her LinkedIn. And a prenup. I’ll sign whatever. NDA, PTA, whatever she needs.” 

“She would wreck you,” Ice said. 

“And I’d say thank you,” Paige fired back without hesitation. 

- 

Fudd Holdings, San Francisco. October 2024. 

The conference room smelled like fresh carpet and untouched ambition. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the skyline, the midday sun hitting the purple and gold banners hung along the far wall. Early designs of the Valkyries branding gleamed like promise. 

Azzi stepped in quietly. Her tailored black suit cut a sharp line against the clean symmetry of the room. Every head turned. Conversations dropped into silence. 

“Good afternoon,” she said, her voice calm and clear. “I know I’m overdue.” 

A few chuckles followed. Nervous, but warm.  

Azzi looked around the table. Operations, legal, media, logistics, scouting. All women. All hers. 

“I want to start by saying thank you,” she continued. “You’ve been moving this thing forward without me these past few months. I’ve read every update. Every memo. You’ve been building something real. And I see it. I appreciate it.” 

She took a breath. 

“I know I haven’t been here. That changes today. I’m back. We’ve got a draft in six months. Let’s lock it in.” 

Ines gave her a quiet nod, then tapped the tablet. The screen behind her came to life with the Valkyries staff directory, now updated to include the final coaching hire. 

“We’ve confirmed our head coach,” Kaitlyn said. “Final interviews wrapped last week. They signed yesterday. Coaching staff is officially complete.” 

Applause scattered across the table. Azzi gave a small smile. Brief, but real. 

“That just leaves one thing,” Kaitlyn added. “Players.” 

Azzi turned toward her. “Which brings me to you.” 

Kaitlyn Chen stepped forward, the Valkyries’ newly appointed scouting manager, sharp-eyed and unshakably calm even in a room full of department heads. 

“I want a finalized short list by next month,” Azzi said. “Free agents. Trades. Off-contract talent. Priority targets only.” 

“Already in motion,” Kaitlyn replied. “And there’s one more thing.” 

Kaitlyn nodded to Ines to switch to the next screen. A clean slide appeared. 2025 Mock Draft. ESPN and HerHoopStats.  

Paige Bueckers' face centered at the top of the board. The headline read: Still No. 1. 

“She’s still the projected top pick,” Nika spoke from the opposite end of the table, flipping to a breakdown slide. “No shifts since March.” 

Azzi studied the screen. The photo was recent. Paige in navy and white, chin lifted, a UConn sweatband crooked across her wrist. Confident. Unbothered. Dangerous. 

“And if Paige goes first?” Azzi asked. “Who’s next?” 

“We’re ranking backups. Strong forwards. Wings. A few post players in case trades shake up our board.” Kaitlyn motioned for Ines to continue to the next couple of slides. 

“Good,” Azzi said. “Book your trip to the Finals. Scout both teams and anyone in attendance. Bench rotations, rookie minutes, late-game sets. Do your network there and get me a full report.” 

“On it.” Kaitlyn lingered a second longer, then added, “You should come too. Just to watch. No scouting clipboard required.” 

Azzi glanced up. 

Kaitlyn offered a light smile. “Could be good for you to see it all up close.” 

The air shifted slightly. A pause moved through the room, subtle but expectant. 

Azzi folded her arms. “I haven’t made my position public yet. I show up now, it becomes a thing.” 

“We frame it as philanthropy,” Nika said from the end of the table. “You’ve already donated to multiple women’s sports programs. No one’s connecting dots.” 

Azzi’s jaw clenched slightly. 

“You wouldn’t even be with me,” Kaitlyn added. “We’d set you up in one of the private skyboxes. No cameras. No press.” 

“It’s a soft entry,” Nika said. “Get used to the arenas now. You’ll be in them a lot once the season starts.” 

The room stayed still, waiting. 

Azzi looked down at the table. Her reflection met her in the polished wood. Tired eyes, unreadable mouth. A crown she hadn’t asked for waiting just behind her shoulders. 

“I’ll think about it,” she said. 

Kaitlyn gave a quiet nod. “Of course.” 

 Azzi straightened, and the air in the room seemed to move again. 

- 

Storrs, Connecticut. October 2024.  

Paige leaned back against her headboard, phone wedged between her cheek and shoulder as she scrolled through her notes app on her iPad with one hand and tossed a mini basketball up toward the ceiling with the other.  

Her dorm room was its usual mess of sneakers, hoodies, and unopened protein bars. The walls lined with championship posters and a single Polaroid stuck to the corner of her mirror—her and KK, grinning after a buzzer beater. 

“You’re free Saturday,” her agent said through the speaker. “No game. No appearances. I confirmed with Geno’s office.” 

“Bet,” Paige said, catching the ball one-handed. “What’s up? You trying to take me out or something?” 

“I’m trying to make sure you get drafted higher than God,” her agent deadpanned. “The WNBA Finals. Liberty versus Lynx. Opening night. Barclays. You should be there.” 

Paige arched an eyebrow. “You tryna fly me out for vibes?” 

“For optics,” her agent corrected. “You’re already in the conversation. You showing up in public, at the biggest game of the year? That’s a headline. Especially with the draft coming.” 

Paige sat up and dropped the ball to the floor. “That’s what this is about. Exposure.” 

“It’s about staying visible. Staying wanted. You sit courtside, people remember why your name’s been in every mock draft since sophomore year.” 

Paige smirked. “I gotta wear heels?” 

“Wear whatever doesn’t look like you slept in it. And bring KK and Ice if you want. You’ll look grounded, loyal. Human.” 

Paige laughed. “Aight, that’s a big assumption.” 

“Oh, and I heard Valkyries’ scouting staff might be there.” 

Paige paused mid-stretch. “For real?” 

“Very real. Eyes will be on that arena from every angle. It’s a good time to be seen.” 

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll go. Send me the details.” 

“You got it.” 

She ended the call and rolled off the bed, tossing on a hoodie before slipping into her slides. The dorm was quiet except for the low rumble of explosions and trash talk echoing from the living area. 

She followed the noise, stepping into the living room to find KK and Ice parked in front of the TV, locked in a heated Fortnite match. KK sat cross-legged with a headset on, shouting into her mic. Ice leaned forward on the edge of the couch, controller clutched tight, eyes narrowed. 

“You two good?” Paige asked, grinning as she flopped into the couch beside them. 

“Top five right now,” KK muttered without looking. “Do not jinx me.” 

Ice tilted her head. “You need something or you just here to steal our snacks again?” 

“Y’all busy Saturday?” Paige leaned back, ignoring their comments. 

KK groaned. “Don’t tell me we got film.” 

“Nah. Finals game. Barclays Center. Liberty versus Lynx.” 

Ice glanced over. “WNBA Finals?” 

“Mmhmm,” Paige nodded. “My agent says it’s good for my image. Big lights. VIP seats. Scouting eyes.” 

KK tore off her headset. “We goin’?” 

Paige smirked. “If y’all can dress like actual adults and not middle schoolers in gym class, yeah.” 

KK pointed at the screen. “If I win this round, I’m wearin’ Crocs courtside.” 

“You do that,” Paige said, standing up with a laugh. “And I’ll pretend I don’t know you.” 

The game exploded in gunfire. KK screamed. 

“YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME—ICE, YOU LET HIM FLANK ME?” 

“I was reloading!” 

Paige walked off chuckling, already texting her agent back with two extra names for the guest list. 

- 

Barclays Center, Brooklyn. October 2024. 

The arena buzzed with anticipation, a low hum rising steadily with each passing minute. Seats filled in waves, fans donning team colors, foam fingers, and freshly printed playoff merch. Spotlights flickered overhead while the court below gleamed under perfect polish.  

Azzi stood stiffly behind the glass panel of the private suite, arms folded loosely across her chest. The suite itself was sleek, designed for discretion. A polished buffet stretched along one side, silver trays steaming with lobster rolls, sliders, and truffle mac and cheese. A suited waiter stood silently near the entrance, ready to refresh her drink at the flick of a hand. 

Nika leaned against the velvet couch behind her, sipping ginger ale with a lemon wedge. 

“You’re wound up,” she said lightly. “It’s just basketball.” 

Azzi didn’t look back. “It’s not the basketball I’m worried about.” 

“It’s fine. Media’s got zero confirmation you’re here. PR team’s ready to spin it as a charitable visit to support the league, if it comes to that.” Nika came up beside her.  

Azzi’s jaw flexed, but she nodded once. 

Behind them, Ines lingered near the dessert cart, quietly surveying the options like a scout assessing value picks. Two cookies already claimed, she sipped her second espresso with the casual detachment of someone used to pressure in other people's lives. 

Then the sound hit. 

It wasn’t gradual. It cracked through the air like a thunderclap. The crowd erupted all at once, a tidal wave of noise that made Azzi’s head lift sharply, heart knocking once against her ribs. For a second, she thought the teams were being introduced early. 

But when the spotlight drifted across the tunnel, it wasn’t the players emerging. 

Paige Bueckers strode into the arena like she owned the air around her.  

She strolled into view, decked in a sleeveless denim vest and matching long shorts that brushed against her knees. Beneath it, a cropped red tank hugged her frame, casual but bold. Her hair was pulled back in a slick bun, gold hoops catching the light. White Jordan 3s laced to perfection capped off the look, the red and cement-gray accents matching the pop of her top. 

People around her lost it. Phones out, flashes sparking. Someone screamed her name. Paige grinned, lifted two fingers in a lazy wave, then sank into a courtside seat like it was second nature. 

Azzi’s breath stilled. 

She didn’t move—couldn’t. Her gaze latched onto Paige’s profile, cataloging everything like muscle memory. The curve of her smirk. The way she leaned forward to dap up a young fan. The casual cockiness of someone who knew exactly who she was, and didn’t have to prove it to anybody. 

Nika tilted her head. 

“Oh,” she said, a slow grin curving across her lips. “Is this why you’ve been acting like someone stuck a branding iron between your shoulder blades?” 

Azzi blinked. 

“What?” 

“You’re staring like she walked out of your favorite playlist.” 

Azzi didn’t respond. 

Nika turned slightly, watching the girl courtside. “Did you know she’s going to be here too?” 

“No.” Azzi said, a little defensive. 

Nika raised a brow.   

Azzi ignored her, she was still staring to where Paige was sitting.  

Then the crowd buzzed louder as the players entered the arena.  

But Azzi's eyes still remained at Paige. 

- 

KK leaned in close, whispering behind the rim of her soda cup. “Yo, you got any intel on the Valkyrie scout? You know who it is?” 

Paige didn’t look away from the court. “Nah,” she muttered, chin resting on her knuckles. “Could be anybody. They’ve been ghostin’ the media.” 

Ice chuckled. “Bet it’s just some old white guy in khakis.” 

“Or a washed assistant GM from a team that folded,” KK added. 

Paige just smirked, eyes still tracking the ball. “Watch it be someone wild like—Oprah.” 

Her phone buzzed on the armrest just as when the buzzer sounded for half time and the lights shifted into showtime mode.  

She glanced at the screen, then blinked.  

Message from her agent: 

Suite 12C. Upstairs, one of the private rooms. Couple Nike execs wanna say hi. They're here for Sabrina but asked about you. Play nice. 

She sighed. “Gimme a sec. Gotta shake some hands with Nike.” 

“Tell ‘em you wear J’s in your sleep,” Ice teased. 

Paige just made a face and stood. 

She slipped past fans filing to concessions, then climbed a side stairwell marked for restricted access. Her Jordans tapped quietly on the concrete steps, the noise fading as she reached the suite level. 

The hallway above was still. Dimly lit, hushed like the air held its breath. Private suites lined either side. Paige slowed her walk, checking door numbers. 8C… 9C… 10C. 

Then— 

A voice. 

Low, smooth, edged with a kind of unshakable grace. The voice carried through the quiet corridor with calm certainty, the sort that made people instinctively slow down and listen. Paige hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the sound of it slipped beneath her skin, unmistakable and electric. 

She moved around the corner, steps light against the carpeted floor. The hallway was long and dimly lit, hushed with that kind of upscale stillness.  

Up ahead, Azzi was pacing just outside her private suite, her steps slow and controlled as she spoke into her phone. There was a quiet tension in her movements, like she was carefully measuring each stride. Her expression stayed composed, though her eyes flicked downward now and then in thought. One hand held the phone close, the other swinging loosely at her side. 

Then Azzi turned.  

Still mid-sentence, her phone still to her ear, the sentence falling off as her eyes met Paige’s across the threshold. 

Silence crashed into them both. 

Paige stopped breathing. 

Azzi stood frozen, lips parted, dark eyes wide. Her voice caught somewhere in her throat, that sharp precision dulled by sheer disbelief. 

Paige could feel it instantly—heat curling low in her belly, blood pounding in her ears. The hallway didn’t exist anymore. The crowd noise downstairs became a distant hum. All she could see was Azzi.  

Light blue sleeveless button-up top paired with high-waisted cream pants. Hair styled in natural curls pulled back with some curls framing her face. She looked untouched by the chaos of the world. 

And she was staring back at Paige like she’d conjured her out of thin air. 

Neither of them moved. 

Azzi ended the call without much of a Goodbye and lowered her phone slowly, lips curling just enough to speak but not yet. 

Paige swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.  

“Damn,” she murmured, almost to herself. “You real?” 

Azzi didn’t answer at first. Her gaze dragged across Paige’s frame in that outfit, the flash of skin at her abdomen, her sneakers bold white against the carpet. That soft little breath she took said everything. 

Longing settled in the silence between them. Like time had rewound just to let them feel it. 

Finally, Azzi’s voice, softer than before. “What are you doing up here?” 

Paige's grin crept in slow, crooked and flirty. “Guess I took the right turn.” 

Azzi tilted her head, but she hadn’t smiled yet. There was something else in her eyes—calculation. Recognition. Maybe even regret. 

But Paige wasn’t moving. 

Neither was she. 

The stillness between them stretched tight, brittle, like glass that hadn't shattered yet. 

Then the silence broke. 

“Sorry I’m late, baby. Traffic was a mess.” 

A man’s voice echoed down the hall, light and careless. Paige blinked as he came into view—broad-shouldered, clean-cut, the kind of polished that looked practiced. He wore confidence like a pressed suit. 

He walked straight up to Azzi and without hesitation, wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in for a quick hug. Paige didn’t have time to register much before his lips brushed Azzi’s cheek, then landed on her mouth in a brief, familiar kiss. 

Azzi didn’t pull away. She didn’t look toward Paige either. 

[lockeswoodss]

A Guiding Hand

!!!!!!!!!!MDNI!!!!!!!!!

A/N: Dr. Robby teaches reader how to masturbate. That's it, that's the whole fic. This is a little long for a drabble, but too short to be a full-fledged one-shot. I'm probably gonna write a continuation of this later this week. I usually write smut for animes, hopefully, this is okay 😅 This is my first attempt at writing fanfic for western media. I just wanted to post something before school starts up again tomorrow.

CW: Guided Masturbation, Daddy Kink, Fingering, (I can't think of anything else, LMK if I missed something I'm tired lol.)

“Fuck,” you panted after another failed attempt at making yourself cum. You were so close, before the inevitable moment where you get too in your head and the pleasure slips through your fingers. You glare at your image reflecting back at you.

“That was better,” Robby husked in your ear encouragingly. You groaned in response, throwing your head back. At this point, you’d lost the number of attempts. You could feel the shake of his chest against your back as he let out a laugh. The scratch of his beard against your right shoulder, where he hooked his chin, and his arm wrapped around your middle kept you grounded. Your legs were hooked around the outside of his parted thighs, spreading you open to give you a clear view of your slick pussy. Still panting, you let yourself relax back onto his bare chest. Only the thin material of his boxer briefs kept you from what you wanted most. Every twitch of his cock against the small of your back was like a taunt of what you craved but was just out of reach. As subtly as your hazy mind allowed you, you tried to grind back against him under the guise of shifting your weight. In an instant, the arm wrapped around you tightened along with his other hand, stilling your hips. Why did he have to be so goddamn perceptive?

“Baby,” he lightly scolded, “You agreed that you’d only get my cock after you make yourself cum,”

“But, Daddy,” you whined, “I can’t do it, it’s impossible,”

“It’s not impossible, I’ve done it every time we’ve been together,” he gently reminds you, “Sometimes more than once,” he tacked on.

“Brag,” you huffed in response, making eye contact with him through the reflection of your mirror. He let out another soft chuckle at the sight of your pout.

“Okay, how about you try one more time and if you still can’t I’ll make you cum, deal?” he asked.

You nodded, quickly, trying to contain your relief that your release was finally within arm’s reach.

“Words, love,” he reminded you softly.

“Okay,” you nodded, beginning to again reach between your legs to get to your clit.

“This has to be a real attempt, I want you to follow my directions to a T,” he said as he cuffed his hand around your wrist, stilling your movement, “Got that, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you answered with a nod. Up until this point, he had only been making suggestions, but now he was gonna take the reins.

“Alright,” he said against your right ear, “I know you’re already wet,” he could feel your wetness bleeding into his underwear, “But I want to start at the beginning. I want you to run your fingers down your throat slowly, tracing your way down to your chest. Be a good girl and play with your nipples for me.” He prompted.

“’ Kay,” you answer breathlessly, your hands slowly migrating down to your nipples. You tweaked and tugged at your already hardened nipples. Stiff from the faint draft of your room.

“Fuck, good. Can you feel it yet, can you feel that spark in your core?” he asked, his deep voice shooting through you.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whined, continuing to play with your chest until he directed you otherwise.

“I want you to focus on that feeling, forget about cumming, just focus on experiencing that warm feeling.” He directed, “I want you to suck two fingers in your mouth and get them wet like they’re mine.”

In lieu of answering you licked the pointer and middle finger of your dominate hand before sucking them into your mouth. You began to lave at them like you would Robby’s before he’d finger you. You locked eyes with him as you slipped them out of your mouth, now soaked in saliva.

“Good,” he nodded, “I want you to slowly trace up your lower lips from your hole up to your clit, you can give it a few light pets before tracing down back to your core,”

Your breath reverted back to a pant as your fingers lightly swipe at your clit. Your instinct was to press down harder and focus all your attention there, but you begrudgingly follow his directions. If anyone was going to teach you how to cum it’d be him; he had the most experience.

“Fuck, good girl,” he groans, cock pulsing against your lower back, “Now your pussy’s special, you need both clitoral and vaginal stimulation to cum. I want you to slip your fingers into your pussy and curl them against your inner frontal wall. Once you get that down you’re going to start to play with your clit.”

You moan unabashedly at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut as you focus in on the feeling, enjoying the experience more than the end.

“There’s my girl.” He praises, kissing at your throat, nipping here and there to keep his own composure. He wanted nothing more than to flip you over and start fucking you from behind, but it wasn’t the time for that; at least not yet.

“Fuck, Daddy,” you moaned as your hips raised to meet your hands, you shamelessly grinded against your fingers. You were so focused on your pleasure, you missed Robby’s hooded eyes watching you fall apart under his careful instruction. His fingers dug into his thighs as he struggled to hold back from grinding against your ass. He was enraptured by the sight of you fully immersed in pleasure.

“Daddy, fuck, fuck Daddy, Daddy please. Can I cum?” you asked desperately, unfocused eyes meeting his reflection.

“Go ahead, love. You’ve been such a good girl.” He encouraged you, kissing the side of your head. Your thighs shake above his as you moan loudly, working yourself through your orgasm. None of your past attempts compared to the high you felt after your inadvertent edging. Robby pulled you in for a soft kiss as you fell limp against him.

“Color?” he asked softly, after giving you a moment to come down.

“Yellow,” you answered after coming back into your body.

“You want to stop for tonight?” he asked, gently rubbing circles into your hips.

“I never said that,” you said, your eyes meeting his. He knew you were far from done when he clocked the mischievous look in your eyes, “I just need a second.”

“Take all the time you need love,” he replied, cherishing the feeling of your weight against him. 

[zeltqz]

call me or not, it's up to you pt 2 | haitani ran

☰ — synopsis : you finally called ran back after a disagreement with your boyfriend.

☰ — pairing : haitani ran x fem!reader ☰ — length : 5.8k words ☰ — contents : nsfw and 18+ contents, mentions of violence, protected sex, protective ran ☰ — notes : this has been in the drafts for WEEEKS but i had to post for my mans birthday, couldn't miss it

On the way home, Ran’s peaceful drive was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. Initially he would’ve ignored it, but one glance to where his phone was sitting in the cup holder, he almost lost control of the wheel seeing your name. The streets were fairly empty at this time of night, so nobody was disrupted when he pulled over abruptly, clearing his throat before answering.

“Hello?”

Soft sniffles filled the car from where his phone was connected to his speakers, and his concern grew significantly. “Ran?”

“Why are you crying?” he asked, fingers tightening against the wheel as he waited for you to continue.

You paused briefly, exhaling exhaustedly. “A—are you busy right now?”

“No.” He started driving again, slowly. “But why are you crying?”

“I need you to pick me up. If that’s not too much stress for you. I, um, I really need help.”

“Sure, I mean. Send me your location.” You murmured a soft agreement and he heard your fingernails tapping against the screen, a notification message sliding down his screen seconds later. “Why do you need help? Talk to me.” Ran leaned forward to connect his GPS to your location.

“It’s a long story,” you sighed. He could hear your teeth clattering together as you shivered. It was incredibly dark outside right now, the skies pitch black, streets tinted orange from the streetlights, and the heavy rainfall that’d been plaguing the city for the last few hours. 

“We have time,” Ran responded simply. He could practically feel you hesitating. “(Name) I need the full story here. Talk to me while I come get you.”

You pressed your lips together tightly, wrapping your arms around yourself as you shivered, goosebumps erupting on your skin. Your shirt was soaked through at this point, your jeans soggy and the lack of a coat made you certain you’d catch hypothermia later. 

“I—uh. Basically I got into an argument with um, Masato. You know him? He’s the um, dude from my story. A month ago?”

“I’m aware,” Ran responded dryly.

You swallowed thickly. “Yeah well. He was driving me home and we got into an argument because I didn’t like how he was flirting with one of the waitresses at the restaurant. And then he wanted to check my phone. I said no of course, but not because I was cheating or anything. I just didn’t like how he kept deflecting whenever his issues was brought up. But anyway, the argument escalated and he basically kicked me out the car and left me stranded god knows where. All the buses stopped running an hour ago, and the nearest train station is a 45 minute walk away. I have no money so I can’t call a cab. My wallet is in his car…and everything is just such a mess. I don’t have a jacket, I’m cold and I just don’t know what to do.” 

By the time you finished your voice was tiny, and the sniffles came back as you fought from crying. Ran could practically picture your face right now, all teary eyed and sad and his grip on the wheel tightened immensely. 

“I’m about fifteen minutes away, baby. Okay? Is there anywhere warm you can get to?”

You looked at your surroundings. A lone empty highway, with a diner in the distance, the words “OPEN 24/7” flashing in neon lights. “Yeah. There’s a diner around here.”

Ran looked at the map on his phone and confirmed the location of the diner with you. You nodded and he told you to get there quickly and he’d order you something once he got there. You thanked him and hung up, slowly making your way inside. You felt like a crazy person when you walked in, clothes soaked and wetting their floors as you made your way to sit down by the heater. A few concerned employees and customers glanced at you, but you ignored them in favour of wrapping your arms around yourself, a pitiful attempt of creating warmth.

Ran’s speeding managed to cut the fifteen minute drive into eight, and you were too busy staring at the table, tracing the wooden pattern with your eyes to see him pull into the parking lot. It wasn’t until the bell rang as  he walked did you finally look up and meet his gaze. 

He rushed over to you and you stood up quickly, wrapping your arms around him. He dropped his head to rest on top of yours and he could feel you shaking against him. 

“You alright?” he asked and you nodded, not removing your head from his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, feeling you clutch onto the front of his shirt. 

“Um excuse me?” The two of you broke apart, staring at the waitress that stood a few feet away from you both, a notepad in her hand. “Are you two ordering anything?”

“You hungry?” Ran asked, looking down at you. You shook your head. “Thirsty?” You thought for a minute before nodding. “Hot chocolate for the lady please. Put marshmallows, whipped cream, whatever’s available in there.” He handed her his credit card and turned his attention back to you. “Look at me.”

You tilted your head up to look at him and he reached a tentative hand out to your cheek, cupping it. Your face was wet, from tears or the rain he didn’t know, frankly he didn’t care. His thumbs wiped some of the water away from your cheek, tracing over your features softly.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, wiping at your own face. 

“For what?”

“For calling you like this. I didn’t want you to see me like this again. This is so embarrassing.” 

Ran dropped his hand down to your arm, soothing the goosebumps erupted on your skin. “Take this.” He shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and you held your arms out as he helped you fit in through it.

“I look ridiculous,” you said with a teary laugh. 

“You look cute.” He pinched your cheek and you pushed his hands away, a small smile on your face despite it all. The waitress came with your drink and the two of you sat down. He watched you take small sips of your drink, avoiding his intense eye contact.

After you finished your drink, he reached forward and wiped some whipped cream from the corner of your mouth. His thumb traced down to your chin, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away. 

“Thank you for the drink.” You pushed the mug in the middle of the table, wrapping your arms back around yourself. “I’ll pay you back—”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t want you—”

“You just told me your wallet is gone. How are you going to pay me back?”

“...I’ll get it back—”

“Like hell you are,” he interrupted and you sat back, looking at him shocked. “You’re never seeing that man again. I’ll make sure of that.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Unbelievable. I didn’t call you so you can control every aspect of my life again Ran.”

He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “Why did you call me then? Last I recall, you have plenty of other friends that have cars.” 

“T—that doesn’t matter why I called you, Ran,” you spluttered, not sounding the least bit convincing. His eyebrows rose and so did your temper. “I’m serious. I called you because you were the first person I thought of. You’re thinking too much about it.”

“Sure. If that’s what you believe,” he said, tone dripping with condescension that made you roll your eyes. Times like this is when you realised that missing Ran is completely different than actually being around him. He was insufferable and you remembered exactly why you had to break things off. 

Ran stood from the table, dusting his clothes. “I’ll take you home. Come on.” He held his hand out.

Reluctantly you stood, grabbing your phone and storming past him, ignoring his hand. He simply smirked and followed after you. You waited outside his car, standing by the backseat with your arms crossed, his jacket over your head acting as an umbrella.

He unlocked his car and you slipped into the back.

 “You can sit up front,” he suggested, shrugging when you stubbornly shook your head, staring resolutely out the window. He rolled his eyes, a light smirk still on his face. He drove at a slower speed than he usually would when he saw you starting to doze off against the seats, driving around in circles just to give you enough time to rest. You woke up an hour later, rubbing your eyes and blinking to adjust to the bright lights. 

Looking around you realised you were parked in a familiar looking garage, the car empty. You slipped out of the car and into the house, walking through until you entered the living room. Ran was seated on the couch, watching tv and texting on his phone.

“Uh, Ran?” You approached the couch and he casted a glance in your direction. “Why am I here?”

“You really thought I’d take you home after that story you just told me on the phone?” His nose scrunched as he flipped through the channels. “I’m not stupid.”

“Okay, Masato isn’t like a serial killer or something. Relax. I’m safe at home.”

“Any right minded man that would leave a girl stranded on the streets in the freezing cold is definitely a cause for concern alright. You’re not going back there till I take care of things.”

“Oh. And by “take care” you mean getting your men to kill him? That’s it?” He stayed silent and you groaned. “I can’t do this. I’m tired, Ran. You know I hate violence. I don’t want the man dead either—”

“Well I do.”

“Good thing it’s not your call then,” you shot back, frowning. “This is my life not yours. You don’t get to decide who gets to stay in it or not.”

He tilted his head back and looked behind at you, the smile on his face turning into more of a smirk. “Do I get to stay or na?” You rolled your eyes and he reached behind him, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer to the couch. “Well?”

You shrugged, looking down at him. “I dunno.” 

Shrugging his jacket off your shoulders, you folded it neatly and slung it on the back of the couch. “It’s complicated Ran,” you said, placing both hands on either side of his head, on the back of the couch.

“Doesn’t have to be.” He grabbed one of your hands, caressing your knuckles.

You found yourself hard pressed to look into those violet eyes of his staring intently back into yours. “Ran…it’s not that simple.”

“It can be. You just don’t like simple.”

You forcefully removed your hand from his. “Excuse me?”

“You always feel like shit has to be complicated in order for it to work. I noticed that you know?” You scoffed, and he rolled his eyes. “Don’t act dumb. We dated for seven years, I think you’d know a person after that long.”

“Crazy because if I were to sit here and say false things about you, then you’d just deny them because I don’t know better than you. Isn’t that right?” 

“Nothing about what you say about me is false. You know this,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. He reached in his pocket, putting a cigarette into his mouth. 

“So if I called you cold and manipulative, would you say I’m correct?”

He lit his cigarette and tossed his head back to look at you, exhaling smoke from his mouth. “You wouldn’t be wrong, no. But you’re only focusing on the negatives.” He reached his hand out again and you hesitated for a split second before grabbing his hand, allowing him to pull you back closer. 

“I can’t think of any positives.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure.” He took the cigarette out of his mouth and patted the spot on the couch next to him. You walked around the couch, sitting beside him, cringing at the feeling of your wet clothes on his leather couch. 

He put the cigarette back in his mouth and examined you. “You’re still cold.”

“I’m fine.”

He wrinkled his nose, exhaling smoke through his nostrils. “Go shower. Wear some of my clothes.”

“Are you sure?” 

He waved in the general direction of his bathroom and you thanked him. You returned back to the living room half an hour later, wearing one of his shirts that were too big for your body. Flopping back on the couch beside him, he offered you a cigarette to which you shook your head.

“Anyway back to me,” Ran said. You rolled your eyes. “You really can’t think of any positives to describe me? Come on, think deep.”

“This is starting to sound like couples therapy,” you stated dryly, He didn’t respond, just continued staring at you. “I dunno,” you said, picking at the skin on your lips. “Like, you’re funny I guess? You’re sweet, and caring in your own twisted fucked up way. You’re protective in a way that is a perfect mix of just good and overbearing. You’re fucking annoying sometimes too and—”

“Woah woah woah. Going off topic, a little bit?”

You smiled, a genuine laugh leaving your lips and Ran’s heart fluttered at the sight. He slung an arm over your shoulder, tugging you closer. You sighed, resting your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes when he kissed your forehead. 

“I missed you a lot, you know?” You hummed in response, snuggling up beside him. When Ran had came back home and let you sleep in his car, he turned the heating on in every room in the house for you. The fact you still snuggled close to him for warmth made him smile a little bit.  “Didja get my voicemail all those weeks ago?”

“Yeah.” You shifted to look up at him. “Gave me a bit of an ego boost not gonna lie,” you admitted.

He looked down at you. “Why’d you take so long to call me then?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm and level, to not show any betrayal of emotion. You didn’t respond and looked at the tv, distracted by your thoughts. He jostled you lightly. “Hm?”

“I don’t know,” you finally said after a few seconds. You looked back up at him. “I was petty and hurt still and part of me wanted to make you jealous.” You laughed lightly. “Was pretty shitty of me. I wanted to call you, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And I shouldn’t have left you hanging like that. But I’m sorry, Ran.”

Ran hummed, the sound vibrating from his chest into yours. He looked away from you, staring at the television with an unreadable expression.There were many times you couldn’t understand what he was thinking. Ran was a man with an unbreakable exterior, and you could only think of one time in your eight year long relationship when you actually managed to crack through that hard shell of his. 

When you found out Izana had died and Ran had gotten himself and his friends arrested. He was released a couple hours later and you came to pick him up from the station. It was hard seeing him more quiet than usual. He barely said a single word to you when you took him home and spent the night with him. That night was when you finally saw Ran cry for the first time and it was overwhelming for you. He wasn’t balling with tears, just a few drops and you wiped each tear drop away with your thumb. That night was so memorable for you and it stayed in your mind all those years later. 

Right now he had that same unreadable, blank expression on his face as he stared at the television, his fingers softly grazing the unshaven stubble on his jaw. You looked up at him, chin on his shoulder and waited for him to finish his thoughts.

“What’s his full name?” he asked after a long moment of silence.

You swallowed. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Just curious.” You were looking at him weirdly, eyes roaming over his face as you tried to uncover any hidden agendas he might have. It still pissed you off how irritatingly good his poker face was.

Squinting at him, you slowly pulled back to sit close beside him, fiddling with the loose string on the sleeve on your shirt. “Promise you won’t…hurt him?”

“I won’t… not kill him,” he said with a smile that grew when you looked up at him exasperated. “I just wanna ask him some questions, s’all.”

You nervously chewed your bottom lip raw by the time you decided. You sighed. “It’s Masato Hirakawa. He’s my accountant,” you told him and Ran shifted on his side to look at you better. “He asked me out one evening and I said yes. We didn’t make things official until like two weeks ago and then that’s when things started going downhill.”

“Whaddya mean?”

You scrunched your nose. “We got drunk at a club last week and Yuzuha drunkenly mentioned the voicemail you left me and I just laughed it off but Masato looked confused and asked what we were talking about. I told him not to worry about it and he got upset, thinking I was hiding shit from him which made no sense because you left that voicemail before we were even official so I wasn’t cheating. But he didn’t care. He then went down a rabbit hole once he figured out your name and started like internet stalking you. He was googling everything he could find about you, was stalking your Instagram, seeing your lifestyle and he took whatever he was feeling out on me.”

Ran’s eyebrows slowly rose as he considered what you just said. 

“Not physically,” you quickly added upon seeing his reaction. “No I mean he would get mad and yell at me, then one night he accused me of being a gold digger and using him for his money and I reminded him just because he’s an accountant that he’s not some millionaire and he needs to calm down. He started ranting and raving about you at any given time and it just got annoying. Every time I was on my phone he thought I was having an affair with you even though we haven’t been in contact in a literal year.” You laughed dryly. 

“It was so stupid. And for what? It was only a week and it made me feel like I was just so…” you paused, trying to figure out the right words. “I don’t know. I just hated it so much. Then today with the car I slept in the car and he took my phone and listened to the voicemail you left and then was convinced that I was sleeping with you while seeing him and he woke me up by yelling at me and stuff. Then kicked me out.”

“Is that why you called me?”

You nodded, fingers trembling as you played with the string. “I’m sorry, by the way. I didn’t mean for all this to happen. You were just the first person I could think of helping me in that moment. I didn’t—”

“Stop stressing.” He grabbed your wrist and you let go of the string as he guided your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “You calling me back was the best thing you could’ve done.” You smiled wryly, meeting his eyes for a few seconds before looking away. “Come here.”

Slipping into his lap, he cradled you against him. “You mad at him?” he asked and you nodded. “Let me take care of this? Please?”

“I don’t know…”

“I won’t kill him if that’s what you’re so scared about. Just wanna spook him a little,” he said, making you giggle. 

You looked up at him and nodded. “Just a spook. Promise?” His eyes dropped down to your lips and your face heated up when you realised where his gaze was trained. 

He leaned down and kissed you softly, his hand rising to your cheek., looking searchingly in your eyes for the longest two seconds of your life. “I promise,” he whispered against your lips before pulling you in for another kiss.

Twisting your body, you turned to loop your arms around his neck, his hand sliding over your knee to pull you over, straddling his lap. His hands slipped under your shirt, rubbing up and down your back. He pulled away, smirking. “No  bra?”

“It was wet from the rain,” you mumbled, kissing him again. He groaned into your mouth, all decorum gone as moved his hands to your chest, cupping your breasts, your nipples already hard and poking his palms.

“Mmm take this off,” he said, tugging at your shirt. 

You shut him up, kissing him again as your hands flew to his shoulders, your whole body warming at the feel of solid muscle, still prominent even through his shirt, underneath your palms. “Take yours off shirt,” you replied, biting his bottom lip with a smile.

He rolled his eyes. “Unbutton me then.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, his smile growing as you got to work, unbuttoning them one by one, your skin growing hot at black ink peeking through. He shrugged his shirt off and your hands flew right back to his shoulders, running them down his chest and letting your fingers trace along his abs. 

He sat up and kissed under your jaw. “Now your turn.” You cupped his face as he sucked, your fingers moving to his hair, tugging when his tongue licked and sucked harder. 

You pushed him back and he watched you lift your shirt up and over, stretching in the process and tossing it to the other end of the couch. He licked his lips as his hands flew to your hips, fingers dipping shallowly against the band of your panties, snapping them back against your skin.  You kissed him sloppily again.

His hands slipped under your thighs, lifting you up and carrying you as you squealed, legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he carried you to his bedroom. Depositing you on his bed, he wasted no time climbing on top of you, pinning your wrists to the mattress as he kissed down your body. 

He latched onto a nipple, his tongue snaking around it as he licked and sucked. The warmth of his mouth and his hands tweaking your other nipple were making you dizzy, biting your bottom lip hard as you began to get restless. He kissed down your stomach, his hands pushing your legs apart. 

“Holy fuck, you’re so fucking wet,” he breathed, eyeing the wet patch in your panties.  He peeled them away and ran his finger through your folds, smirking at the hitch in your breath. “All we did was kiss.”

“S—shut up,” you hissed, irritation turning to pleasure when he swirled his finger around your entrance, and he had to bite his lips to keep from groaning when your hips started stuttering, a silent plea for him to go further. He slowly sunk his finger in and you gasped, back arching against the bed. He pulled out before sinking fully in, teasing you with only the tip of his finger.

You irritatingly looked at him. “Stop being a fucking tease,” you complained, trying to shimmy your body further down the bed, needing more of him. Ran grabbed at your hip, stilling you and you whined loudly.

“Easy.” His voice was light and playful and that only angered you even more. Idly pumping his finger in and out of you, he added another and you writhed, restlessly moving to fight back the heat forming in your abdomen. His fingers curled against that spot that had you melting against the sheets. When you were least expecting it, your eyes closed and head thrown back, he leaned forward, wrapping his lips around your clit, and sucked. 

You moaned loudly as his tongue began working at your cunt, licking sloppily like a man starved. Slipping his fingers out, he parted your folds with two fingers, eyes trained on the way your pussy was gleaming with a mixture of your slick and his saliva.

 “Fuck,” he breathed. He looked up at your body, over the curve of your breasts. “Sit up for me. Wanna see that pretty face.”

“Nn-nn,” you said, shaking your head, writhing against the sheets as he buried his face back into your pussy, sucking obligingly at your clit. His tongue was making you feel everything at once, his fingers sliding back into your pussy making your hips stutter, your body was heating up, and you could feel the incoming pressure of an all familiar orgasm building until it stopped.

Ran simply stopped his ministrations and stilled his fingers in you, the thickness of his two fingers sitting in your pussy has you gushing a little more around them, and your clit felt cold without his mouth. 

You sat up and stared confusingly at him. “Why’d you stop?” 

He presses a longing kiss to your inner thighs. “You didn’t wanna cooperate with me. So why should I give you what you want?” You groaned loudly as he smiled, lips curving against your skin. He continued to lather kisses to your thighs, coming dangerously close to your pussy and just when you’d get your hopes up, he’d move back to your thighs. 

“Ran, please.” You moved your hand to his hair, trying to tug him away from the marks he was leaving against your thigh but he was nothing but stubborn. “Rannnnnnnn,” you groaned. 

“You know what I was want,” he stated simply, and your face scrunched imperceptibly. “You’re so cute when you do that.”

“Ran I’m serious. Eat me out or I’m leaving.”

He arched an eyebrow at you. “So bossy.” He looked up at you and you were still partially glaring at him. He smiled. “Keep looking at me just like that.” His head lowered, ignored hearing you call him a masochist under your breath and smirked at the sound of your breathing hitching, effectively shutting you up as he licked a stripe up your slit.

The eye contact was overwhelming and hard to maintain, especially when he slipped two fingers back inside you without warning. You were struggling to keep your eyes open and effectively failed, shutting them as his lips sealed around your throbbing clit. The pressure was re-building and your hands flew to his hair, gripping tight and tugging as you chanted his name over and over again as you came. 

Ran sat up, swiping a hand over his mouth as he rearranged you on the bed, wasting no time and letting you catch a breath before he pinned your wrists to the mattress with one hand, sloppily reaching for a condom in his bedside table with the other. 

He grabbed a condom and you watched as he rolled it on in record time, his eagerness rolling off him in waves as his hands darted straight to your hips, lifting them up at an angle, fingers digging into your skin as he slid his cock in slowly. His mouth fell open at the tight warmth stretch of your pussy, a low groan escaping him. 

You raised your arms up and he let go of your hips, leaning down to let you accommodate him, wrapping your arms around his neck as your legs locked around his waist. He slid his arms under your back and held you back just as tightly, his hips pressing flush against yours. 

You almost whined at the feeling of being so full, the thickness of his cock nestled between your walls dizzying. He pulled out and slowly pushed back in, his pace speeding up as you started to let your moans out. He buried his face into your neck, inhaling that sweet perfume you always love to overspray on yourself, taking in the heat of your naked body below him, and began littering your neck with kisses, sucking hard at your skin till it bruised. 

Your hands flew to his neck, taking your nails up and down and dragging red long streaks onto his skin. He pushed himself up, hands on either side of your head and began snapping his hips until you got louder. The bed was squeaking,  your voice was getting higher, and the wet sounds of your pussy reached your eyes making you feel hot. 

“I’m close,” you whimpered, gripping onto his arms, and he grunted at the bite of your nails digging into his muscle. 

“Me too baby.” He pressed down on your stomach with a firm hand, hips slowing down to slow but deep thrusts. You could feel his cock stretching you out as he hit deeper, his hand applying more and more pressure until it was unbearable. You came with another loud cry, his hips stuttering against yours before he cusses and pulls out abruptly, your body cold and empty and you push yourself weakly onto your elbows to watch as he sprays his cum on your inner thighs, painting them white. He tapped his cock against your pussy, sliding it up and down your wet folds before exhaling deeply. 

He sat back onto his knees and examined your spent body, how your eyes were unable to stay open for more than three seconds without slowly closing shut. 

He moved to lay beside you, gathering you in his chest. 

“Wait. I need to clean up,” you muttered, trying to keep your legs open to chase away the feeling of wet cum in your inner thighs. 

“Who cares,” he grumbled, hand sliding down your leg to throw it over his hip. “Sleep with me. It’s almost 3 am.” He fell asleep not even a second after finishing his sentence and you rolled your eyes, a fond smile on your face. 

Ran was nothing but a deep sleeper, and you took advantage of that to brush his hair out of his face and cup his cheeks, playing with his nose as he slept soundly in front of you. It took an hour for you to fall back asleep and you woke a few hours later. 

Rolling onto your side, you slapped around for his laptop on the bedside table and opened it,wincing at the bright screen. Through the blindness you were able to make out the time as 8am. Carefully you slipped out of bed and took a brief shower before heading to his kitchen. 

Ran was able to sleep through mainly anything, even his alarms, but the sounds of you clattering around his kitchen effectively did succeeded in waking him up. He snorted once he checked the time, mumbling “this girl,” under his breath and slipped out of bed to take a shower and brush his teeth. Whatever you were cooking ended up taking nearly a whole hour and you re-entered the bedroom with a tray full of food, Ran had been reduced to idly scrolling on his phone, scratching his stomach. 

“Good morning,” you chirped, climbing onto the bed and placing the food on his lap.

“Morning baby.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you smiled at him. “What’s all this?”

“I felt bad about um, getting you to pick me up yesterday so I wanted to uh, treat you I guess.” You sat beside him, resting your head on his shoulder and looked up at him. “I barely cook so you better finish every single thing on that plate.”

He snorted and pulled you in for a kiss. “I appreciate it. Thank you.” 

“No thank you. Seriously. I really owe you one Ran.” You smiled shyly at him before clearing your throat. “Now shut up and eat.”

He rolled his eyes when you grabbed the fork, forcefully stabbed the eggs and held it up to his mouth. “Say aaah.”

He stared blankly at you until you glared at him. He sighed and opened his mouth, the smile coming back in your face in full force as you fed the fork into his mouth. He chewed and you were already restabbing the fork on the plate to pick up some waffles when he stopped you. 

“I can feed myse—“

You shoved more food into his mouth. “Is it good?” You asked, trying not to laugh as you saw him struggling to chew with his mouth full. He nodded once he swallowed, kissing your forehead again and gathering you back into his chest. 

“It tastes amazing. My baby so talented. Come here.” He brought you back in for another longing kiss, his hand cupping the back of your head. You pulled away and removed your head back to his shoulder, tracing your fingers across his chest as he ate. He pushed the plate to the side once he finished and turned to face you. “What’re you doing today?”

You hummed and spread your hands flat against his stomach, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest. “Me and Yuzuha are going to Masato’s to pressure him into giving me my shit. If he doesn’t then I’ll call the police.” 

He wrinkled his nose at the idea and you went back to dragging your finger across his skin, tracing his bellybutton. 

“I don’t want you going over there.”

“Relax. Hakkai and Mitsuya are going to be there too incase he wants to try something.” He wrinkled his nose again and you turned to look up at him. “Okay don’t be like that. They’re strong!”

“All it took for me was a brick and he was out.” Ran laughed when you rolled your eyes. 

“You’re not immortal, you know. Smashing anyone over the head with a brick would knock them out!”

“All I hear is excuses. Besides I thought you said you’d let me handle it, hm?” He jostled you playfully and you shook your head. 

“I was thinking about it and I really do not want you and your goonies to torture the dude until he’s on the verge of death. I hate him but I don’t want to hurt him either.”

“You’re too nice for your own good you know? People will take advantage of that,” he stated calmly and you sighed, settling back beside him. 

“…I know.”

“So let me handle it,” he proposed. You weren’t looking at him so he tilted your face back to his, forehead pressing against yours. “Let me take care of it. And you.” He laced your fingers together as you stared him deeply in the eyes, letting him attempt to persuade you. 

After a few moments you bit down on your lip and sighed. “Okay. Take care of it but I don’t wanna hear what you do or say to him. Alright?”

His grin turned wolffish and he pressed another kiss to your forehead. “You don’t gotta worry about a thing. Just get some sleep,” he said as he gently laid you back down on the bed and tucked you back in, “and let handle everything for you.”

[twisted-broth]

Any of the boys you want do a challenge where (they aren't dating yet) but they are at a fair and they win a bear or a prize and s/o gives them a kiss on the cheek for how many they win and s/o says if they win 10 or more they will give them a kiss on the lips and spend a week together with just them (maybe show like if some did get the kiss and how they would react?) I thought this was cute lol

This has been sitting in my drafts for like a year so I just figured I would post the parts of it that were done.

Leave it to Crowley and Grim to get you into this situation. “Every dorm has to have a booth at the fair, prefect! Maybe you’ll even earn enough money to make some renovations to that shoddy old place!”

Crowley failed to take into consideration how making a carnival attraction costs money to be any good. Any cafe service would need more money and supplies than you could afford, a show would need more than two people, and a game would need prizes.

Grim is not one for bright ideas, but it would seem there was no other solution that wouldn’t cost all your food money for the month. So this is what it came to.

“Knock down all the pins and win a kiss on the cheek from Ramshackle’s prefect! Hit all three targets and he’ll give you a kiss on the lips!!!!”

It was probably in your top five most embarrassing moments of your life as your cat basically prostituted you at the top of his lungs. Surely no one would actually be enticed by a prize like that, right?

Trey

"You always manage to find a way to keep things interesting, don't you? For once I'm glad to be at a school mandated event."

Feels bad. Plays anyway.

No hard feelings, right?

He tells you that you have nothing to worry about, he's really a lousy shot anyway (as if he's not the best spelldrive player on Heartslabyul)

He easily knocks down the first two stacks, but misses the third

Maybe he missed, maybe he found it in his heart to show you mercy

He not-so-subtly implies that he's sure he could find a different way to win the "grand prize"

Despite his big talk, he still has a noticeable blush when you give him a kiss on the cheek

He would also keep an eye on your booth for the rest of the day to make sure not too many people are winning

For your sake, of course

Jade

“It would seem you’ve found yourself in quite the situation there, prefect. Please find it in your heart to forgive me if I take advantage.”

This is the funniest shit Jade has ever seen

How stupid do you honestly have to be to get yourself into this predicament?

Of course he’s playing the game. The scowl on your face when he trades in his tickets to Grim for three baseballs fills him with unbridled delight

His aim is a little wonky and you sigh in relief when his first three balls miss the target

He feigns disappointment before handing over another few tickets to the cat and grabbing the balls again

Of course he was hustling you. He let you think that even for a second you would be safe from this menace. For shame

Each ball is thrown with such force that pins from the first stack fly into the other stacks, easily ensuring that Jade clears the game with ease

He calls it beginners luck. Asshole.

Has the biggest shit eating grin on his face as he leans down to your face to claim his prize

Rook

"Mon amour, what a dastardly situation you've been resigned to! Not to worry sweet dame, I shall save you from the beasts at your heels!"

You knew you were in trouble the minute Rook’s gaze happened to fall on your stall

His eyes narrow and he smirks as he makes his way over to the stall

He's visibly holding back his excitement as he trades his tickets in to Grim

His idea of "saving you" is to hog the game- and the prize- for himself

He hits every stack with effortless accuracy, game after game

The second all three stacks have been knocked down, he prances over to you and leans down for his kiss. You can practically see the flower emojis radiating off his satisfied smile

This will continue until Grim gets fed up with him scaring away customers, or Vil comes to drag him away

You got so used to kissing him that you almost do it again the next time he leans down to talk to you

[theamberparadise]

Hello, This is my first time making a request on your block.

Can you do a NSFW and dating headcannon for Jeff the killer and ticci Toby x Jessica Rabbit like s/o ( separately ) , please

HI HONEY IM SO SORRY THIS WAS SO LATE TUMBLR DELETED MY 2K WORD DRAFT AND NOW I HAVE TO DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN IM SO SORRY

TICCI TOBY AND JEFF THE KILLER X JESSICA RABBIT READER

SYPNOSIS; How would Jeff and Toby react to reader who looks like Jessica Rabbit?

TWs; toxic relationship, blood

A/N; hi hon!! welcome to my blog!! im so sorry this was sooo late tumblr hates me sm, i hope you like this as much as i liked writing it!

ps! i assumed reader is also a killer.

"Seriously, what do you see in him?" "He makes me laugh."

TICCI TOBY

The first time he saw you, Toby was beyond bewildered. Were you real or were you another figment of his twisted imagination?

Nonetheless, his eyes were on you now. And he needs your eyes on him.

His first instinct? Flaunting his muscles at you whenever and wherever he can. Getting a glass of water? His shirt is suddenly off. Fixing yourself in front of the living room mirror? He mutters it’s hot then slowly rips off his jacket. Seeing him during training? He flexes his muscles a bit more.

He thinks this is a widely accepted way of getting girls when really it’s so awkward when he does it.

Second instinct? Getting as close to you as he possibly can just to sniff your scent. Even if you’re just leaning gracefully against a counter, he might walk in, head high, shoulders back while he leans right beside you. Not across, not near, beside. Like there aren't any more spots for him to lean on.

“Toby, hon,” you cleared your throat. “You’re getting a little close.” “Am I?” he cocks his head to the side. “My bad, I’ll move aside.” 

He moves literally three inches away.

His third and final attempt? Leaving you gifts! Although it does leave you confuzzled.

One moment your Versace heels are there, and the next second, you hear your door close and now it’s gone. The next day, you wake up to see your Versace heels back again, with a pair of sword heels from Paciotti– in your size.

More of his gifts would include a sketchy brand of lotion from a drugstore, a cracked eyeshadow palette, and a seemingly used lipstick.

You appreciate his efforts but you couldn’t help but feel perplexed.

Once he notices you haven’t been saying “thank you” to him like you should be, he trudges to your door post-mission holding a bundle of snapped flowers that looked like they were pulled from a couple’s anniversary date (it was) with his breathing awry and ragged.

He keeps his eyes steady on yours. And as soon as you asked what was wrong, he shoves the bouquet in your face, like he didn’t cause you to have an allergic attack.

“Fuh–flowers. For y-you.” You gently press the cloud of petals down. “Okay, Toby– Okay, honey.”

He would still press his gaze onto you like you owed him something (which you did) and after about five minutes, he speaks once again. “Why ha-haven’t you wearing m-my gifts?”

You stay silent, backing away as your heel meets the floor again, your face looking to your side.

You feel his thumb and index gently hold your face in the right direction– where he is, and leans even closer than ever.

“I wa-want you. Do you want m-me t-too?”

Ever since you said yes to him, his ego had been fueled to the MAX.

If somebody even slightly mentions you, he’s on them and joining the conversation he had nothing to do with. “Oh, h-her? Yeah, I pu-pulled her. Not li-like you g-guys can do anything ab-about i-it,” that statement earns Toby a nasty black eye, of which he thankfully didn’t feel, but caused his face to swell for a week. He crawls back to you seeking validation even though it was him who started the mess.

He does anything and everything for you if it means he won’t lose a part of his pride like he did last time with Clockwork. Complaining about the heat melting your makeup off? He’s installing a new air conditioner. Notice a rip in your oh-so-glittery dress? He’s suddenly suitable as a surgeon. Need to detangle your hair? He’s treating it like a frail animal.

It’s the same when you’re on missions together. A rowdy victim scuffs your shoe? “That little sh-shit,” he’s off hacking the poor guy to hell.

He blushes shamelessly when you call him "my boy" or "my good little champ" while pinching his cheeks, makes him feel like one of those guys back in his middle school that would steal his crushes.

And although all of this seems sweet, it doesn’t mean it won’t have toxic tendencies.

His jealousy problems can overwhelm the relationship. He immediately jumps to conclusions every time he sees you hanging out with someone who’s not him. “Why were y-you looking at h-him? You’re not th-thinking of talking t-to him, are you?” “Did you go for a smoke with them j-just now? You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

It hurts, yes, but try to actually pursue another guy and he’ll come crying floods with his knees on the floor, gripping on your dress like it’s his life line.

"Toby, baby, no pulling, please." You try to snag the fabric gently from him. "No, no, no, no, don't leave me-- p-please no, I'm s'sorry," he chokes out, "Never again, hon, please,"

NSFW 

The reason why he takes care of your hair so gently and attentively is because he likes to pull on it whenever he’s fucking you from behind or receiving a blowjob from you. Seeing you wince in pain while you’re so used to being taken care of by him is like cocaine.

He memorizes all the spots you like to reveal in your outfits just by him staring at you for hours on end. He uses this to his advantage and cheekily leaves bites on there.

Purposefully buys you makeup that isn't kiss proof just to see your lipstick stain his lips and his cock. Sometimes, he takes pictures of them and sends them to whoever was bullying him recently.

Have a meeting with the major proxies and need to orgasm in the middle of it? No worries, he’s under your dress sucking your clit like there’s no tomorrow.

Loves it when you wear heels during sex. He cums in his pants by the thought of you stepping on his dick with them.

Once he gets home after a particularly frustrating day of missions, he drops down to his knees and starts humping your leg with his bare cock while massaging your hands and arms through your silky gloves.

He circles his thumb on the seams of your long dress while you give him the best titjobs of his life.

Lives for the idea of you having a wardrobe malfunction in front of him and the other proxies. Lowkey a cuck.

Bites every cellulite line he finds, every stretch mark he finds, kisses every scar you might have and thanks you for even letting him.

Moans a little louder than he’s supposed to when you suck on his adam’s apple.

He finds cumming in your hair so enchanting, seeing milky white beads of his honey absorb into your smooth hair has him groaning.

JEFF THE KILLER

“Holy shit,” were the first words that escaped his mouth when he first saw you. 

I mean, how could he not? Look at you, all shiny and pretty, it’s like you were made by an angel from heaven. He’s seen his fair share of hot supermodels and sexy porn stars, but none of them even come close to a creature as beautiful as you.

His approach for you is… not great.

Catcalling, whistling, and pervy pick-up lines were his first thoughts. “ *wolf whistle* Nice tits, dollface!” “ *imitates animal clicking* Here, kitty, kitty.” “Over here, sweetcheeks!”

He does this especially when he knows others are watching. It’s his twisted way of calling first dibs.

Jeff loves how you play hard-to-get with other guys in a smooth, jazzy way. Even more when you do it to him.

When he feels as if you were ignoring him (which you were) he likes to leave twisted drawings of you taped on your door. Nothing too crazy, just you in your usual outfit of glamour and heels, but this time your boobs are way bigger than they are and your butt is wider than they should be. You figure that it’s how he looks at you.

You crumpled his drawings and threw them away? That’s fine, he’ll just go a little bit further and bring you a severed finger in a ziploc bag with a ring still on it. Surprisingly, the ring is actually a real diamond worth fifty thousand dollars. And it fit perfectly, too!

You thank him a day later and he thinks he’s the sexiest man in the world.

He then takes it even more up the road– weirdly just touching your hair with his grimy hands until you turn around and gently ask him to stop. Taking extreme observation of your face like it’s an art piece. Even stealing your perfume and spraying it on him even though he has never come close to even hugging you.

After Jeff feels like it’s time to go in for the catch, he breaks inside your room while you’re sleeping and hovers over you, caging you with his body. You’re still sleeping, face freshly moisturized and pretty. He lets his ragged, heavy cold breath blowing onto your face to wake you up, and once you do he grins even wider than humanly possible.

“Y’know, you coulda been sleepin’ in my bed.”

Once you said yes, he was on top of the world. He got cockier than he should really be.

He makes uncomfortably loud grunting and throat clearing noises to make everybody look at him and you, with his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, beaming wildly like he just caught a bear.

He purposefully makes out with you in public view, not caring about your lipgloss absolutely coating his face

For his bit of toxicity, he isolates you whenever too many people serve as competition.

This stems from his insecurity of not protecting what he should be protecting, so to keep your eyes only on him, he either locks you up in his room or a wide plain full of nothingness.

He ventures and finds you pretty daggers to keep on a garter on your thighs especially if you have a dress with a huge slit, both for show and for protection, even though he’s there beside you practically 24/7.

Goes crazy for you in red. Going out in an all-red outfit for a date? He’s insisting you stay at home.

He lets you use his blood from his mouth slit as lipstick.

Speak to him in that sultry voice of yours and he’s in love forever.

"Jeffrey, baby. Get me my eyelash curler, will you?" "Oh, shit," he groans, throwing his head back. "You sound like sin, sweets."

NSFW

Remember him dragging you back to the house because you wore red? Well, you’re now on the floor, getting plowed into next week.

Also goes crazy for you keeping your heels on during sex, especially when you can’t take it anymore and you’re pushing him off with them, just for him to push your legs up to your ears and fuck you deeper.

He likes it when you keep your dress on while you ride him. It makes the whole thing feel risky– forbidden.

Jeffrey likes you to get messy. One time, you come back from a rough mission looking like utter shit. Hair tangled like matted fur, dress ripped at the seams, stockings ruined, makeup smeared to hell… It took him everything from within to not pounce on you right then and there. Instead, he drags you by the arm, skin bruising under your glove to his bed and makes you look even worse the following morning.

He loves it when you have a full face of makeup and a pretty outfit before you have sex. It’s like a trophy to him– mascara stains on his pillows, your poor dress ripped to shreds on the floor.

Remember your sultry voice? Use it on him when you order him around and his heart will stop. He might cum in his pants without you touching an inch of his pale skin.

He likes making you stumble out of the door, limping out with his cum still inside and your panties in his pocket, leaving you to pray that your dress doesn’t fly up in the wind.

Do you like your bra being stolen from you? I hope so. Because he’s not going to return it after making you strike up a conversation with everyone while your tits threaten to pop out.

He purposefully messes with your clothing, cutting the seams just right so when you put it on it rips at the most ridiculous places. A huge rip from your clavicle to just under your tits. The seam at the slit of your dress lets go when you take a little step.

Loves watching your usually tired and sexy eyes shoot open when he hits that sweet spot.

[summer-oil]

I DREAM, NOW, OF A NORMAL LIFE WITH YOU ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; suguru isn’t a lightweight. this is your first time actually seeing him drunk — though maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’d be the sappy kind.

word count; 9.4k (..... i got carried away ok)

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader (shoko calls u "girl" but in a "girl help" way not a gendered way), written w a no curses au in mind, sugu is a sappy emotional drunk i said what i said, sickening amounts of fluff, depictions of intoxication, reader is averse to alcohol, sugu wants to marry u so bad it makes him look silly, lots of emotions & lots of love <33

a/n; this fic has been ROTTING in my drafts for the longest time but its super precious to me and now i finally get to post it!! @softgirlgonehaywire & @hayakawalove ily ty for being interested in sappy!sugu this is a treat for u <33

the bar isn’t all that far off from your apartment.

it’s a short distance, really. walk straight ahead, until you reach the record store that suguru likes to frequent, and then take a right; a minute or two uphill, and then you’ll be able to see the blue of the sea. once you’re there, all that’s left is to look for mellow golden lighting and descend a set of stairs.

which is what you’re currently doing, popsicle in hand, loose clothes and comfortable shoes on as you wallow in the mellow summer evening. everything is blue — the dark shade of the sky, and your ice pop, pastel and sweet, tasting of pure youth. the hoodie you threw on is a rich cobalt, suguru’s in name but yours in spirit. he only wears it when you complain that it doesn’t smell like him anymore.

humming a jolly tune, you take a sharp turn, allowing the summer sensations to curl around your subconscious. blissed out and content. 

you were so, so bored — stuck at home with no one to keep you company, no one to mumble snarky commentary about the show playing on tv, no one to run their fingers through your hair while your head rests in their lap. pure torture, really, being faced with the consequences of your own actions. after you stupidly told suguru you’d be okay on your own.

he even asked you twice, just to be sure, even told you that he’d prefer you to join him on his night out. and again, you declined; because it’s been so long since he had some time alone with shoko and satoru, and you were feeling a little tired anyways. 

so he gave in. heading out, with a promise to bring back a tub of your favorite ice cream, leaving you with the apartment to yourself. did you come to regret your little white lie? maybe. possibly.

but everything worked out in the end.

a pleasant breeze caresses your skin, brushing against the apple of your cheek, and you watch as peach blossoms dance in a faraway park. cicadas cling to every tree in sight, buzzing a pleasant tune, mingling with the giddy giggles of high school students enjoying their summer vacation. it’s been raining for a couple of days; you can still smell it in the air, feel it in the low tinge of humidity clinging to your skin, still hear suguru’s insistence that you bring an umbrella with you to work — just in case.

but today, the skies were clear, and it’s late, not too humid but not too chilly. and the stars are out, glimmering in that fuzzy sea of mellow cerulean, leaking out like little marbles cast into space. falling down, down, down, close enough for you to see. from here, it looks as if they’re waving. you resist the urge to wave back.

peace. bliss. a nostalgia so vibrant you could drown in it, feel it lick at your ankles like soft sea foam.

eager to scratch a certain itch in your brain, attention span zipping from one street vendor to the pop music blasting from a couple streets away, you take your phone out from your pocket. absently scrolling through your messages, until you get to the ones shoko sent you just ten minutes ago. the ones that brought you out here, into a summer evening soon to slip into nightfall, ones that have you walking to the bar you chose not to join them at.

messages that still have you pushing back a bout of giggles, chewing lazily on your ramune ice pop with a giddy smile.

sho 🚬: come get ur man sho 🚬: he’s drunk. sho 🚬: like DRUNK drunk 

you: …… um.  you: what happened to hi? hello?? good evening???

sho 🚬: no time for that. look sho 🚬: [ image ] sho 🚬: he looks so goofy lol

unable to resist the temptation, you press the pad of your finger against the screen — opening the image attachment, just to drink in the sight once again. what you see is a certain man, slumped over in his seat, cheek smooshed against the wooden table in front of him. messy hair, no longer tied into a bun, cascading down his shoulders and back. from the little you can see of his face, his skin is flushed a light pink, and his eyes are closed, fingers still curled around an empty beer jug. 

like a sleepy puppy.

a coo tiptoes on your tongue, but you bite down on your lip in an effort to stop it, just grinning at your screen with pure adoration in your lovesick eyes. 

he’s drunk, alright. an unfamiliar sight, but not at all unwelcome. because he’s cute, terribly so, so cute that it hurts, even when he’s obviously wasted. it’s almost funny — you know their drinking habits. shoko holds her liquor so well that it’s a little horrifying, and satoru can get wasted if he has more than a sip of it. and suguru?

suguru never gets drunk. he barely even drinks. out of consideration for satoru, maybe, or you. probably both. that’s just how he is; you thought he hated fish for years, because he was always so eager to give you the best bites of the sushi rolls you ordered. turns out he was just indulging you.

so, to be frank — the idea of him suddenly being drunk is a little bit of a shocker. but it’s also kind of exciting, in a ridiculous way. new, fun, just what you need when you’re bored out of your mind.

(or maybe you’re just happy to have an excuse to go see him.)

you: NOOOO  you: MY BABY 😭😭😭 you: what did u guys DO to him???

sho 🚬: satoru and him made a bet 😐 you know how they are sho 🚬: he drank like a divorced mother of four ive never seen something so beautiful

you: …. you: have i told you that you’re both terrible

sho 🚬: u love us <33 sho 🚬: anyway he’s been asking me where u are for the past ten minutes pls come i can’t stand him sho 🚬: he’s crying.

you: HUH???????? you: WHY????????????????

sho 🚬: dude i dont know sho 🚬: please come get him he’s being so sappy that satoru’s abt to throw up

you: ???? okok 😭 you: im omw ig??

sho 🚬: girl hurry he just told me he genuinely appreciates my presence in his life 😐

an exhale — laced with deep amusement — drops from your lips and spills into the summer air. it tastes like a memory from long ago.

slipping your phone back into your pocket, you raise your gaze, searching for a glimmer of goldish light. soaking up the scent of the ocean, sparkling on the border of your peripheral. salty and sweet.

no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is that certain someone, waiting for you to pick him up. your mind keeps drifting back to the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his hair falls over his face when he leans down, the sound he makes when he stretches in the morning.

you want to see him. badly. you want him near, want to feel the familiar warmth of his presence, want to see him smile and laugh and sigh and raise his eyebrow at your antics. 

so there isn’t any time to waste. you’re walking towards that familiar set of stairs before you know it, shoes hitting the asphalt with a mantra of satisfying thuds. 

and when you step in through the opened door, you’re immediately engulfed by a sense of overflowing comfort. mellow, warm lights, the soft buzzing of static from an old radio, low citypop beats trailing through the air. the bartender by the counter gives you a curt nod in greeting, before motioning towards a certain table. it’s over in the corner, covered in beer jugs and fancy glasses, with three beauties seated around it.

satoru notices you first.

a bright grin finds its way onto his face, and he waves you over giddily, happily. barely contained excitement in the motion. shoko’s gaze follows his, flitting over to meet yours — and you think she mouths an oh, thank god, before taking another sip from her glass. she brings a hand up in greeting when you come closer, and you can’t see her smile, but there’s a crinkle to her eyes; a warmth in them that you’d never miss.

”hey, guys.”

”yo!” satoru chirps, beaming in a way that’s so distinctly him it makes you soften. he looks so comfortable in his seat, with a cocktail you know is non-alcoholic and probably too sweet for anyone but him to stomach. giggling to himself, leaning over to poke suguru’s cheek, with a teasing declaration of your chaperone is here! 

and there he is. 

the man you came here for, still slumped over in his seat, unresponsive. not for long. as the lilt of your voice reaches his ears, his eyes flutter open, in a bout of recognition — even in the drunken state he’s in. an immediate sensation of familiarity creeps into his veins, rousing him from his cozy, half-asleep stupor. 

he doesn’t even grumble over the way satoru keeps poking at his cheek, interest and attention focused solely on a certain someone. you, your presence. 

and when your eyes meet his, he lights up.

it’s precious, you think, how his eyes widen, blooming with genuine affection, so endearing you could kiss him right then and there. his face is flushed, and his hair is tousled, and the warm lighting of the bar paints him in a golden hue. so perfect for him, your star in the sky. 

a smile spreads across his lips, big and happy and warm, and you can’t help but mirror it. 

(gosh, he’s cute.)

with a dizzy kind of eagerness, suguru sits up, palms flush against the table to support his weight. he stumbles out of his seat, paying no heed to satoru’s amused huff of careful! or the rattling of fragile glass.

it only takes a few uncoordinated steps for him to reach you, where you haphazardly lean against the wall, watching him amusedly. that delighted smile never leaves his lips, as his arms go to curl around your waist, big and heavy, his jaw finding its rightful place on the curve of your shoulder. 

”baby,” he drawls, fond and affectionate. breathing you in. ”sweetheart. my angel.”

a flustered puff of laughter slips from your lips, stumbling a little under his weight. his voice is syrupy sweet, overflowing with love and adoration, soft in a way that has your knees buckling. a little raspy. murmured right into your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. 

he’s too sweet for you to handle, really, even sweeter than satoru’s overpriced cocktail. and he smells the same as always; a blend between coffee grounds, cigarette smoke and rain, one that never fails to soothe you. even when it’s tangled up with a vague but vivid stench of alcohol, courtesy of the drinking he’s been doing until now. 

you crinkle your nose, but don’t let go of him, nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head. words buzzing with warmth. ”hey, sugu.”

suguru only squeezes you tighter, content to have you in his arms. finally, his world makes sense again. all he can do is bask in your voice, warmth, scent — he’s just so enamored by it all. almost in a trance, heartstrings dancing along to the beat of your presence, your very existence, that appears to him as something almost angelic. soft and familiar, something that feels right at home when it’s tucked into his embrace. where he can keep it safe.

”missed you…” he murmurs, sleepy, smearing an open mouthed kiss against the crook of your neck. ”i love you s’much…”

a chuckle. ”i love you too,” you echo, running a steady hand over his back. your voice is laced with something teasing, but awfully fond. ”you really are drunk, aren’t you?”

”mm…” he only hums, cheek pressed flush against your soft skin. ”’m sorry…” he mumbles, stifling a yawn. he sounds a little guilty, and it makes you want to coo. pull his cheek a little.

instead, you laugh. amusement vowen into the bubbly noise. ”it’s fine, sugu. c’mon — let’s go home, alright?”

at that, satoru visibly reacts, placing his glass on the table with a soft clink before getting up to stretch. he grabs suguru’s discarded jacket, letting it hang off his arm as he walks over to the two of you.

”i’ll help you carry him,” he smiles, always so dependable. so ready to be of service. maybe a little too eager to carry suguru around like a sack of potatoes. 

a smile blooms on your face, and satoru gives you a playful wink. shoko just leans back in her seat, stretching idly. it feels like home with them there.

”i’ll stay here,” she hums, a faint grin tugging at her lips. ”he’s your problem now.”

”got it.” you meet her lidded eyes, sharing an amused look as satoru tries to coax suguru away from you, pulling at his cheek while he whines and clings to the fabric of your clothing.

finally, he relents, and you look back at the table with a grin. ”see you later, sho’.”

a smile is the only response you get, but it’s enough. it’s her, the same as always, still sipping from a glass of expensive whiskey and raising her hand in a silent see you. relaxed and cool, and so very lovely. 

with one arm over satoru’s shoulder and the other clinging to your hoodie, suguru stirs.

”shoko…” he groans, craning his head to look back at her, even as satoru makes a move to leave. ”don’t drink too much. and watch out for strangers…” 

he trails off, blinking drowsily, a protective tone to his voice. worried. awfully like him. neither you nor satoru can resist the chuckle you indulge in, but shoko just rolls her hazel eyes.

”i don’t need to hear that from you,” she scoffs, tinged with amusement and what you’re almost certain is embarrassment. there’s a fondness to her snark, one you’d never miss. 

(shoko will always be shoko. you know that she appreciates suguru’s concern, even if she doesn’t want to show it.)

”alright, c’mon,” satoru quips, slapping suguru’s back with a grin. ”there, there, big guy. let’s get you home, hm?”

just as you suspected, he doesn’t let you help, doing all the heavy lifting on his own. not breaking a single sweat, flaunting his strength as he hoists suguru up the steps — while you do nothing but follow, a light jacket hanging off your arm. 

cold midnight air embraces you, slathering your cheeks with the essence of summer as your shoes meet the asphalt. satoru smiles, a low exhale escaping him, dusting off his hands. ”there we go.”

suguru stumbles towards you, no longer caged in, slumping against your shoulder with a satisfied sigh. blinking slowly, as you link arms, his muddled senses adjusting to the outside world. a pleasantly blue sky, a sun long set, and a string of lamp posts to light up the street ahead of you. artificial fireflies, watching over the town you love so dearly.

you part your lips, and a soft exhale slips out, dripping with fondness. ”thanks, satoru,” you smile, meeting his gaze.

”don’t mention it,” he waves you off, but you know he appreciates it; always eager to be praised. ”can you bring him back by yourself?”

”yeah, we’ll be fine. it’s close, anyway. don’t worry.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, and his cobalt gaze drifts upwards, to bask in the starry sky. a moment passes, and then he’s looking back at you and suguru; a soft and earnest smile playing at his lips. so sincere you want to reach out, cup his cheek, make sure he knows how loved he is.

”i’ll go back to shoko, then,” he chirps. bubbly and graceful, giddy and playful. always so lovely. ”gotta make sure she stays out of trouble.”

a chuckle. you mirror his smile. ”of course.”

and with that, your precious best friend makes a move to return to the bar, taking a decisive step away from you. before he can get too far, though, a certain hand reaches out to hold onto his sleeve — keeping him still.

satoru turns around. blinking once, then twice, in confusion; faced with none other than suguru, still slumped against you. a little out of it, sleepy and disoriented, yawning quietly, but his eyes are as clear as ever. caring and sentimental. 

his gaze cuts to the bone of things. it’s something you’ve grown used to.

”thanks, satoru,” he murmurs, letting go of said man’s shirt. the words that spill from his lips are straightforward, a little tactless, but overflowing with earnest appreciation. ”you’re my best friend.”

a moment passes. the stars burn in silence.

satoru blinks.

then he sighs, with what you know is nothing more than feigned annoyance. masking his embarrassment, the same way shoko did, the same way suguru always does. your repressed, beloved little losers. 

”yeah, yeah. i got it,” he pats suguru’s shoulder, once, twice. not looking at him. ”you’re such a sap, you know that? geez.”

a grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief blooming in your eyes. ”not gonna call him your best friend back?” you tease, a soft tilt of your head.

satoru gives you a glare, playful, one you can’t physically see from behind his shades but still somehow sense. ”don’t add fuel to the fire,” he grins, with a halfhearted flick to your forehead.

before you can bicker further, suguru yawns, loudly, closing his eyes and nuzzling into you. you share an amused look with satoru, until he shakes his head fondly.

”take care of him, alright?”

”i will. you guys have fun!”

and at last, satoru turns on his heel, coupled with a smile and a lazy wave. but suguru calls out to him once more, unwilling to part ways without saying his piece. so sentimental, so loving it comes to him like breathing.

”bye-bye, satoru,” he slurs, voice loud enough for the entire street to hear, tired and honest. raising his arm in a lazy wave. ”i love you!”

”go home already!” satoru shouts, descending down the steps with a flush to his cheeks that you’ll tease him for later. his soft laughter is carried away by the breeze, sweet and saccharine.

(satoru will always be satoru. you know that he loves suguru back, even if he doesn’t want to say it out loud.)

with a faint chuckle, melting into the summer air, you tug on suguru’s arm. ”alright,” you chirp, looking up at him. ”let’s go!”

he seems a little more awake now, at least, trying to match your steps. meanwhile, you do what you can to support his weight; he’s stumbling a bit, but you don’t mind. if anything, his weight is a comfort, your arms linked together like a lucky charm. a safe harbour.

suguru is acting kind of like a big puppy, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. a little meek, clinging to you, trailing after you pliantly. he’s a little dizzy, still, and he needs you to get back home in one piece. it makes you puff out your chest, stand up straighter. makes you feel protective of your 6’2 boyfriend, all toned muscle and broad shoulders, the personification of scary dog privilege. but he needs you right now.

a soft bout of laughter spills into the air, as you try to ignore his heavy stare. it’s impossible, though — so you turn your gaze to meet his own, and he practically glows under the sound of your giggles, that cheeky smile you’re wearing. ”you okay, suguru?”

his eyes soften. silently, he runs a thumb over the knots of your knuckle, smoothing down your skin, thick fingers intertwined with yours. 

he looks deep into your eyes, and a soft hum of affirmation buzzes in his throat. 

”i’m just so happy,” he grins, with a sincerity that has your heart doing flips inside your ribcage. it flutters, flutters, flutters, in the wake of his unbridled joy. it buzzes like it wants to break out.

suguru has this dreamy look on his face, one you can do nothing but admire, painted over with fluorescent moonlight and pure summer bliss. one that reminds you a little of high school rooftops, midnight road trips, what it means to be in love.

you nudge him, softly, with the arm that’s tangled up in his own. tilting your head, teasing words on the tip of your tongue. ”you know, i never took you for a sappy drunk.”

suguru's only response is a cute little mmrn, steps heavy as he leans on you for support. trying his best to carry himself, not wanting to inconvenience you, but it’s just a little tough. especially when he feels this soft, this grateful — this blessed.

a giddy, dreamy smile tugs at his lips. his amber gaze travels up, towards the little pale dots of star clusters all across the night sky, gleaming like milk poured over rich coffee. then he exhales; a soft, blissful little sound. ”i’m so lucky.”

a moment passes, silently. in the distance, cicadas buzz. with a patient smile, you admire him, the reflection of starlight in his eyes. suguru has this forlorn look, etched into his expression, like he’s seeing something that isn’t quite there.

”i have satoru and shoko…” he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear. as if he’s tasting the words on his tongue, as if he can’t quite believe them himself. that’s how lucky he feels, sometimes.

a nod. ”they love you a bunch, you know?”

(they do. they’re both horrible at saying it out loud, but you know they do. you know that they love suguru, just as much as he loves them, even if none of them are good at putting it into words. perhaps they don’t really even need to, in the first place.)

suguru mirrors the soft nod of your head, bangs falling over his eyes as he does. ”and i love them, too.” his smile grows. ”they’re my best friends.”

absently, you reach a hand out, brushing away the strands of hair obscuring his vision. and suguru stirs, his gaze shifting until it falls on you. like a moth to a flame. there’s something indescribable in his eyes, soft and heavy and tender and true.

”— and i have you.”

a stutter of your heartbeat, a jolt throughout your chest. his stare almost burns, but you can’t avert your gaze — suguru looks positively lovesick. admiring you with a dreamy gaze, as if he can’t believe you’re real. 

he reaches a hand out; cradling your face with one big palm, the rough pads of his fingers smoothing down your skin so very gently. smearing his fondness from your jaw to your cheekbone, so loving your breath hitches in the back of your throat. 

a soft, content sigh spills into the air, like a prayer that doesn’t need any words. his smile is serene.

”my angel.” 

as the words fall, that peaceful smile of his changes shape, shifting into a big, giddy grin. it lights up his whole face. a chuckle leaves his lips, content and delighted. ”i’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

and for a moment, you fear that your heart will stop beating entirely. frozen, listening to the lullaby of your heartbeat resounding in your ears. 

suguru has always been frighteningly good at flustering you — but isn’t this a little unfair? you clear your throat, hoping to regain some composure. it’s tough, though. your words could never measure up to his, could never flow as freely, but they’re honest. wholly and thoroughly. and maybe that’s enough. 

”we’re the luckiest in the world, too, then,” you echo, smiling, words barely above a whisper. willing yourself to meet his gaze. ”since we have you.”

suguru looks into your eyes. there’s starlight inside them, he thinks, shining brightly, gleaming in the dark. with the hazy filter of intoxication clouding his mind, it’s all he can think. you’re his northern star, his lighthouse. his one and only saving grace.

(you’re so, so pretty.)

a pause. after a silent moment, spent etching your features into his retinas, suguru tilts his head. his expression is unreadable.

— he boops your nose.

you blink. once, twice, caught entirely off guard; and suguru giggles. soft, giddy little breaths falling from his lips like marbles, strewn over the sand of a warm beach. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, and his smile is sweet, meeting your surprised gaze with a honeyed coo. ”you’re so cute, baby.”

silence. you look up at him. 

then you sigh, exasperated, more flustered than you’d like to admit. god. okay, he’s really out of it. for some reason, you still thought you could get a good one-liner in, but of course he had to ruin that by being a little tease.

you grab onto his bicep. gaze fixed straight ahead, giving it a tug. your steps are more decisive now, and suguru follows you happily. ”alright, alright. c’mon,” you beckon, slightly gruff. ”we’re almost there.”

when you finally reach the familiar front door of your apartment, you exhale a deep sigh, laced with pure relief. limbs tired from dragging suguru up the stairs, mind muddled and sleepy and senses practically engulfed by a man still clinging to you like his life depends on it.

after fumbling with your keys and hearing the click of the lock, you take a victorious step over the threshold, and a familiar scent greets you. soothing, comforting, a blend between fresh laundry and leftover curry and blooming hydrangeas. filling your senses with a fervent kind of bliss. of course, suguru’s does the same; intimately intertwined with the scent of home. that everlasting, never-changing blend. 

with him clinging to you like this, it’s almost suffocating — but you truly don’t mind. suguru’s warm, and sweet, and being close to him like this makes you feel at peace. his hands rest on your hips, his jaw on your shoulder, and he adamantly refuses to let go of you for even a second. it’d be annoying if he wasn’t so cute, if he wasn’t suguru geto, if you weren’t so horrendously weak for him.

what you don’t know is that suguru has an agenda. one that isn’t just i want to hug the love of my life, although partially that as well. suguru has a plan, one he’s been absentmindedly dreaming of for the past five minutes; he’s a man on a mission.

but he’s patient. always has been, always for you. so he waits, and waits, for you to hang his jacket up, for you to kick your shoes off your feet. and when you’re finally, finally finished, suguru leans in to kiss you.

— you block his mouth with the palm of your hand.

a moment passes. silent, almost tense. in his stupor, suguru’s mind can’t quite seem to comprehend the situation before him; he doesn’t understand why he isn’t pressing a kiss to your lips, right now, why he’s kissing the skin of your palm. he doesn’t understand why you look so troubled, a faint guilt simmering in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand.

all he can do is blink, dumbly, surprised. a question written on his features clear as day. 

”well, it’s just…” you sputter, sheepishly. avoiding his gaze, a little guilty. ”you know. since you’ve been drinking, and all…”

and it hurts, you think. it hurts a lot more than it should. it hurts to reject him, hurts to see the way he deflates at your clarification. like a big kicked puppy. like you just threatened to throw him out into the street.

suguru removes your hand, gently, holding it in his own as he speaks. those amber eyes are downcast, and a soft pout rests on his lips. the sight alone feels like a dagger to your chest.

”but…” he frowns, voice awfully meek. he looks so sad. ”i wanna kiss you…”

a soft sigh leaves your lips, before you can think to hold it in. oh, he’s being so unfair. guilt clings to your mind, an itch you yearn to scratch, and all you want is to kiss his pout away. but you really, really don’t want to kiss his alcohol-soaked lips.

so you settle for the second best option.

”’m sorry, sugu,” you coo, reaching a hand out to cradle his cheek. he leans into your touch, still pouting, and you tug a little at his bottom lip. wasting no time in closing the narrow distance between you.

the kisses you press against his skin are soft. peppering kisses all across his face; ghosting your lips along his jaw, trailing towards his cheekbones, and settling on his forehead. tiny little pecks, wherever you can reach. your voice is soft, muffled into his skin between butterfly kisses. ”tomorrow, okay?” 

and suguru seems to brighten up a little, melting under the contact, exhaling in pure bliss. he fervently returns the treatment, planting open mouthed kisses all over your face, respecting your wishes and avoiding your lips. they’re a little sloppy, but you don’t mind.

it does make you a little flustered, though. with his palms cradling your face, engulfing you, there’s nothing you can do except drown in his affection, the love he showers you with. it tickles — and suguru’s smile only grows, at the sound of your soft giggles. his cheeks are starting to hurt.

the state he’s in is just a little bit hazy. despite his initial dejection, he no longer minds that he can’t feel your lips against his, disappointment warded off by your smile and laughter alone. he thinks you’re so, so cute, and all he wants is to kiss you forever. 

but you have other plans.

and before you know it, you’re both curled up in bed, limbs all tangled up beneath the blankets, bodies pressed together as suguru cages you in. he squeezes you tightly, hugging you close, practically melting into you. usually, it’d be so easy to fall asleep like this. with suguru cradling you, covering your body with his own, warm and safe. he’s like a furnace. 

but right now, it’s a little tough. you’re kept awake by open mouthed, ticklish kisses pressed against your skin, supplied by the love of your life. it’s sweet, but he’s being far too distracting — as soon as your consciousness begins to fade into the fuzzy realm of sleep, he leaves a sloppy kiss against your collarbone, and you’re jolted awake once more. 

”suguuu,” you whine, dragging his name out with childish inclination. ”we need to sleep…”  

”sorry,” he only murmurs, muffled into your skin. he doesn’t stop, though, planting a wet smooch on your cheek, and then another. you squirm a little in his hold, and he emits a shaky breath. ”jus’ love you so much…”

suguru knows that he needs to stop. he knows that both of you need to sleep, that you need to rest up. that he needs to recover from the intoxicated state he’s fully aware that he’s in — but he just can’t seem to follow through with it. every cell in his body burns with a certain desire, a need to shower you in love, and it’s unendurable. with every kiss, every giggle he manages to pull from your lips, suguru’s heart fills up just a little more. 

your presence surrounds him, like a weighted blanket, and he clings to it with a desperation he never knew before you. 

in the midst of his feverish consciousness, you’re all his muddled mind can think about. the way you fit together with him like a puzzle piece, like he was formed in the shape of someone meant to hold you. like you were formed in the shape of his embrace. with you pressed up against him, limbs tangled with his, everything feels so right.

but it’s so overwhelming. 

you’re so, so close, so close he’s practically engulfed by your scent, your touch, everything that makes his heart burn with devotion. it’s beating so viscerally in his ribcage, stirring the protective instinct inside him; he just wants you to stay close, by his side, wants to keep you safe and happy. wants to make you feel loved. 

suguru’s heart feels wet and raw and bare, fully exposed for you to see. beating just for you.

with the alcohol inside his veins, and the nostalgia of the summer evening on his mind, everything weighs on him just a little too heavily. everything feels just a little too much. every sensation, every emotion, every sappy thought. all of it together is almost too much for him to handle.

all he can think of is you. how lucky he is, to have met you, to have gotten to know you. how much you’ve changed him, changed him for the better, how much of him is directly tied to your existence.

suguru never truly appreciated his name until you came into his life. it was always no more than a simple fact, a gift from his parents that he hadn’t asked for. something natural, that he didn’t question, didn’t think about. 

but you say his name with such warmth.

he wants to hear you say it, over and over again, forever. suguru — in that sweet, lovely voice of yours. better yet, just sugu, a cutesy, silly nickname he could never bring himself to actually hate. he just wants to hear you call out to him, with that warmth of yours, the one that never fails to soothe him. no matter how tired he is, how stressed. how much everything else weighs down on him. 

at the end of the day, he’s simply your sugu. and that’s all he ever really wants to be.

with a hazy filter clouding his senses, coaxing him into closing his eyes, suguru should give in. he should fall asleep, let you fall asleep. but he can’t bring himself to stop thinking about it; he just loves you so wholly. who you are, what you do. as an equal, an individual, a little galaxy tucked into a body made of flesh and blood. no matter what you’re doing, no matter where you are. 

and right now, you’re here, with him. curled up in bed, in your shared apartment, inhaling the same air, exhaling at the same time. by his side, when you could be anywhere else in the world.

his heart is yours. that’s all suguru can bring himself to think, the only coherent thought he can cling to and echo in his head. his heart is yours. forever and ever. 

he makes no attempt to stop the tears from pooling in his eyes, even as he feels them cling to his lashes, even as his breathing clogs up in the back of his throat. they’re proof of his devotion, his carefully nurtured love. growing over the years, into something almost sacred, a kind of faith. something so fervent he wouldn’t dare deny himself of feeling it.

he can’t hold in a faint sniffle, either, just barely audible. one that breaks your heart in two. it aches, aches, aches. suguru is gazing at you with glassy eyes, a sight you aren’t used to seeing — but he also looks so genuinely glad. his tears aren’t ones of sadness. you know, because you know him. 

”aw, honey…” you coo, the pads of your fingers reaching out to cradle his cheek. despite your efforts, your voice wavers when you speak, little more than a whisper. ”don’t cry... you’ll make me cry, too.”

suguru places his larger palm over yours, choking on another sniffle. the sight renders you completely helpless — you want so desperately to stop his tears from falling, but a part of you is too touched to speak. too mesmerized by how beautiful he is, translucent tears illuminated by softly flickering moonrays, lashes glimmering like shooting stars.

all you can do is smooth a thumb right under his eye, wiping away a stray tear with enough tenderness to stitch his heart back together. suguru emits a shaky breath.

”’m sorry,” he sniffles, closing his eyes. nuzzling into the crook of your neck. ”i’m just so happy… love you so much… you mean so, so much to me, i…”

an exhale, a little breathless, tears soaking through the material of the shirt you’re wearing. his shirt. that realization makes him cry even more, a shuddering breath that shatters like glass when it drops from his tongue. 

and then, in a voice so quiet you barely hear it, a soft whisper worth a million words:

”i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

and it hurts. your heart aches so sincerely, thorns curling around your ribcage, because suguru is crying, and he’s telling you all this. with such an honest intonation that you don’t dare doubt him, even for a second. heavy thumps of blood rush through your veins; he’s still clinging to you, sniffling into your neck, and you’re so in love with him that you almost can’t comprehend it.

all you can do is press a kiss to his shoulder, chaste and tender, and hug him just a little tighter. echoing his words, in earnest, desperately trying to keep your voice from breaking apart. ”i love you, too. more than anything.” a sigh, full of wonder. little butterfly kisses scattered across the expanse of his neck. ”you mean the world to me. honestly.”

with a smile against his skin, you hope so tenderly that the soft kisses will comfort him, will stop the tears from falling. 

”my sweet boy,” you murmur, lovingly, because he is. the sweetest boy you’ll ever know. suguru shudders when you press your lips against his jaw. ”i’m so, so lucky.”

with the combined efforts of your kisses, the alcohol slumbering inside his veins, and the tears running down his cheeks, suguru begins to feel awfully tired. sinking into sleep’s embrace, like a sailor lost at sea. comforted by the glimmer of a lighthouse, just out of reach.

everything feels right. he’s safe, and happy, and in love. so hopelessly, blissfully in love.

the exhaustion creeps up on him, tidal waves embracing a shore, beckoning him into closing his weary eyes. a yawn leaves his lips, and he shifts a little in your hold. you’re smoothing down the back of his head, almost protectively, and sleep is only a flicker away for the both of you. with the last of his strength, suguru snuggles just a little further into you, nose pressed up against your neck, close enough that he feels the flutter of your heartbeat. 

”wanna be with you forever,” he murmurs, sleepily, stifling another bout of yawns. his smile is sweet and dreamy. ”gonna marry you one day…”

a moment passes.

for a second, you think your heart does actually cease beating entirely.

swallowing a gulp, you allow yourself the luxury of an inhale — and fresh air fills your lungs. grounding. all you can hear is the rapid beating of your own heart, heavy thumps reverberating in your ears. warmth flows through your entire body.

marry.

the word is spoken so casually, so sincerely, as if he’s said it countless times before. as if he’s repeated it, over and over again in his mind, just to get used to the idea. as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. marriage. something so foreign, so scary, enough to send shivers down every narrow of your skeleton. such a large step to take. 

(but suguru says it with such tenderness.)

”… okay,” you whisper, at last. breathless. ”i’ll be waiting, then.”

there’s nothing else to say. you don’t know if suguru is even conscious enough to hear you, let alone understand the full weight of your words, of his own words. but you don’t mind. 

a soft smile lingers on your lips, as you stroke his hair, mind hazy and limbs heavy. nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head, full of affection. dripping from your hands down to the column on his throat, through his windpipe, down to his heart.

”goodnight, sugu.” you press a kiss to his messy hair, tender and chaste. ”i love you.”

an incoherent mutter leaves his lips, in response, one you can’t quite make out — but you don’t need to. because you already know what it means, in the same way you know that the sky is blue.

(an echo buried deep within his subconscious, voiced without effort, as easy as breathing.

i love you, too.)

the sizzling of a pan and the whirring of a coffee machine form a beautiful morning symphony, bouncing off the walls of your kitchen. to your ears, and your still sleepy brain, it’s a soothing sound — coaxing soft little melodic hums from the depths of your throat.

with such a tantalizing aroma in the air, a blend between espresso and pancake batter, you can’t help but buzz with a mellow, groggy kind of joy.

honestly, you're beginning to understand suguru’s fondness for the morning hours. waking up to his soft snores and content expression was more than enough to give you the energy you needed to get out of bed; all sleepy and relaxed and pretty, with hazy morning sunrays kissing up his bare skin, caressing his messy bedhead. 

a rare sight, awfully precious. a part of you wanted to stay in bed and admire him all morning, but the thought of taking care of him coaxed you into leaving. it’s the least you could do, really — after seeing him so sincere, so open and vulnerable. 

hopefully, his headache won’t be too brutal when he wakes up. you left some hangover pills on the nightstand, courtesy of shoko’s advice: just get him ibuprofen and coffee. works like a charm. are you a little worried about her nonchalance? maybe. but you trust her judgement. they’re a handful, but you love them — even when they’re drunk or hungover. 

which is why you’re standing in the kitchen, engulfed by the morning sunlight, in front of a sizzling pan. trying your very best not to burn the pancakes you’re making, patiently waiting for the coffee to be done. 

in your blissful stupor, caught up with thoughts of suguru and breakfast and forevers, you don’t notice another presence coming up behind you.

two arms wrap around your waist, and a jaw attaches itself to the curve of your shoulder. you startle, a little, jolting at the contact — but then you recognize that telltale scent, the familiar weight of his arms, and immediately melt into the embrace.

suguru breathes out a raspy chuckle, amused at your surprise. 

a sigh slips from your lips, content. ”good morning,” you hum, placing the palm of your hand on his forearm. suguru shifts a little, getting more comfortable as he leans against you. tenderly, not too much weight. he’s delicate like that.

”g’morning,” he rasps, leftover sleep clinging to the syllables. the usual smoothness of his voice is coupled with a deep, rough kind of tilt, one that always accompanies it in the morning. your heartbeat picks up, silently.

suguru smiles. dreamy, giddy, because you just looked so pretty, in the morning light, hair still a tad messy. humming happily, swaying slightly side to side. so irresistible. he’s beginning to understand why you love sleeping in so much; getting to wrap his arms around you like this, instead of the other way around, doesn’t feel bad at all.

he squeezes you just a little tighter, hoping it’ll convey his gratitude. there are holes in his memory, last night no more than a blurry sequence of still images, but some bits and pieces remain intact. he remembers getting drunk in a way he hasn’t since he made that bet with satoru back in high school — and he remembers that you were there to take care of him.

a smile tugs at his lips. a little giddy, butterflies erupting in his chest. he’s so damn lucky.

”thanks for taking care of me yesterday, sweetheart.”

a hum. you smile, sheepishly, patting his arm. ”don’t need to thank me for that. how do you feel?”

suguru smiles. you feel it, against your skin, a chaste kiss on your neck. ”better.”

the low purring of the coffee machine has stopped, but the sizzling of the pan remains. from beyond the opened windows, you can hear the chirping of cicadas, melodic and serene. singing a summery tune. both of you soak in the preciousness of the moment, the fragile silence, before suguru breaks it.

”everything from last night is kinda fuzzy,” he admits, clearing his throat. just a tad sheepish. you simply hum, a low noise of acknowledgement, and he continues. ”i don’t really remember anything… ’m sorry, baby. i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

your lips curl up into a tiny smile. such a sweetheart — always worrying about you. always so caring and attentive. eager to reassure him, you smooth over the skin of his arm with your thumb. ”not at all.”

then you’re taking a couple steps back, moving from the stove, and suguru follows. you turn yourself around to meet his gaze, his arms still attached to your waist, a comforting weight.

a grin blooms on your lips, a little teasing, and a flicker of mischief shines in your eyes. ”you were cute, you know.”

suguru blinks, before emitting a low chuckle. a raspy little thing. ”was i?” he drawls, as you brush his bangs away from his face. 

”mhm,” you chirp, eyes crinkled as they meet his own. you just can’t help but want to tease him, a little bit. just a smidge. ”kept going on and on about how much you love us.”

hands moving to cup his face, you squeeze his cheeks softly. and suguru lets you, too tired to resist, only giving you a lazy raise of his brow. there’s a sense of amusement in his eyes, and something in you knows he likes the attention. your teasing words buzz with endearment, akin to a purr. ”my sweet lil’ sugu.”

all he does is lean into your touch, allowing himself to melt into the tenderness of the physical contact. even as you pull at his cheek, earning you a very gentle pinch to your side. but he lets you have your fun. you’re warm, and sweet, and he’s so in love with you he’d probably let you tug his body around however you please.

still, your words leave him just slightly perplexed. he’s still smiling with half-lidded eyes when he asks you to elaborate, basking in the feeling of your thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. ”us?”

your grin widens, by a tad, something deeply amused glimmering in the depths of your iris. ”yep,” you answer, popping the p. for some reason, suguru dreads the teasing edge to your voice. ”me, and shoko, and satoru.”

a moment passes. he stiffens, for a second or two, mind processing the words. then he groans, softly, squeezing his eyes shut.

it makes you laugh, soft and amused, and he can’t help but smile along. despite the dreadful realization you present him with. no wonder he was met with so many notifications when he tapped at the screen of his phone — he didn’t read through any of them, but now he’s apprehensive to do so at all. shoko and satoru can be so goddamn obnoxious when they feel as if they have blackmail on him.

he can see it now, in his mind’s eye; shoko nagging him to run her errands, satoru reminding him of his words every time they have a slight disagreement. 

(grab me a coffee. three shots of espresso, one cube of sugar. got it?)

slacker.

(we both know i’m right. don’t be so stubborn, suguru! it’s okay to be wrong sometimes.)

asshole.

(c’mon. you said you loved me, right?

so mean. and here i thought you loved me!)

idiots.

(he does love them. more than anything. even when they’re being absolutely insufferable.)

suguru just sighs, deep and fatigued, already anticipating his doom. ”they’re never gonna let me live it down, are they?”

a giggle slips from your lips, and his heart flutters helplessly. ”probably not. my condolences.”

another sigh. it only makes your smile widen. there’s something awfully delighted, in your eyes, as you cradle his face in your hands. ”well, i thought you were very sweet!”

”yeah, yeah…” he mutters, vaguely amused. placing one of his large palms over your hand, where it rests on his cheek. ”i won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”

a chuckles bubbles up from within your throat. ”aww,” you pout, giving way to a teasing grin. ”that’s a shame. i wanted to hear you talk about how much you love me again.”

suguru blinks. 

then he smiles. a very particular smile, characteristic, one you’ve come to associate solely with him. resting somewhere in the intersection between a soft grin and a teasing smirk. a flicker of mischief shines in his eyes, and you realize your mistake.

you can tease suguru all you want; but he'll always turn the tables on you, at the end of the day.

”oh?” he chuckles, fondly, thumb smoothing over the lines of your hand. his eyes gleam, looking straight into yours, shining with something mildly devilish. ”i don’t need to get drunk to tell you that, baby.”

in a smooth motion, one you can’t help but silently envy, suguru intertwines his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips. he never once breaks eye contact, gaze heavy as he basks in your flustered expression, planting a soft kiss against your knuckle. reverent.

”i love you. more than anything,” he purrs, lips still lingering on your skin. warm enough to burn. ”you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

a pause. heat crawls up your spine, and a flush rises to your cheeks. you couldn’t stop it if you tried.

”my everything,” he continues, intent on flustering you as much as humanly possible. voice low and smooth, honeyed and deep, and worst of all; terribly earnest. lips trailing over your knuckles, against every knot, so soft that you barely feel it. ”my entire world.”

”okay, okay!” you sputter, an embarrassed hue to your cheeks, your gaze landing on the windowpane to your right. his stare is just too heavy, too deeply in love. overwhelming. ”point taken. nevermind.”

suguru laughs, genuine and full. warm and amused, deep and real, and you catch yourself thinking that you don’t want to go a single day without hearing it. even if it’s at your own expense.

a coo rests on his the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back, opting to lean forward instead. he trails the pads of his fingers along your jaw, touch like a butterfly, lifting your chin up ever so slightly. then he closes the distance between you. 

in your throat, your breath hitches.

— but he doesn’t kiss you. suguru stops right in front of your lips, so close you can feel his breath on your skin, taking a moment to simply look into your eyes. and despite how flustered the close proximity makes you, you can’t bring yourself to look away. heart fluttering madly, a string of staccatos against your parted ribs.

a tilt of his head. amber eyes gleaming, crinkled and fond. ”can i kiss you, now?” he asks, grinning softly. hand smoothing down your hip, big and warm, teasing. ”i made sure to brush away all the alcohol. or do you still not want to?”

you pause. 

”hey, what happened to not remembering anything?” you pout, narrowing your eyes. the corner of suguru’s bottom lip twitches upwards.

but he only shrugs, feigning nonchalance, a playful glint in his eyes. ”guess i was just that disappointed.”

a giggle flows from your lips. he drinks it in, gazing at you with pure contentment.

”alright, alright... c’mere,” you coo, smile honeyed and sweet. tracing your fingertips along his jaw, brushing a silky strand of hair behind his ear. you take in the sight of him, meeting his lovesick gaze. he squeezes at your hips softly, a little impatient — so you finally lean in.

suguru’s lips are warm, when they meet yours. they taste like sunlight, devoid of any alcoholic flavour, just like he so kindly assured you of. and it’s a little amusing, the thought of him in front of the bathroom sink — desperately scrubbing his teeth, just to get his kissing privileges back. such a dork. 

he’s your dork, though.

suguru sighs into the kiss, smiling giddily, satisfied at last. a sound you can’t help but mirror. he deepens it, ever so slightly, fingers squeezing gently at the plush of your waist. a hum of approval buzzes in your throat, and his smile only grows.

when he pulls away, that smile is all you can see, along with the ever so slight flush to his cheeks. a hint of peach dusting his skin, framed by the sunrays caressing his jaw, highlighting his handsome features. breathtaking. 

before you have a chance to protest, he’s leaning in again, to press one more chaste kiss to your lips. your heartbeat picks up.

everything finally feels just right.

the warmth of the sizzling pan, the fragrance of freshly made coffee and now-burnt pancakes. the light of the morning sun, scattered across the open space of your apartment, splotches of life painting everything in a heavenly glow. the love in the air, all soft and light and comfortable.

domestic bliss. with suguru, who never seems to change, no matter how many years go by. if you could live in this moment for the rest of your life, forever and ever, you’re sure you’d die happy.

and wow, is that a heavy word. forever. 

(but suguru makes it feel so very, very light.)

forever feels a lot more real, like this. cradled in the midst of a drowsy morning, bumping elbows with the man you love most, after getting to take care of him in his most vulnerable state. accepting every part of him, and having him accept you just as fervently. 

just this moment alone is worth far more than you could ever comprehend. 

suguru, with his warm hands, his familiar embrace. your shared laughter, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen as you try in vain to save your scorched pancakes. and his smile, his fervent devotion, coaxing him into eating them even though they’re burnt at the edges and don’t taste even a quarter as good as his. because you made them, for him, and that makes them taste sweeter than anything.

you stare at him, from across the table, admiring the sight you’ve grown so used to; suguru, with his slightly tousled hair, mug in hand and smile painted on his handsome face. drowned in sunlight, pink petals flitting in through the opened window. you don’t want a single day to ever pass without you seeing this. what does that mean, exactly? you think you know. 

it means forever.

(forever, forever, forever. what a pretty word.)

marriage. you think of it, again, let it linger in the depths of your skull, bounce around until you grow just a little more used to it. and it’s a scary thought, for sure. a terrifying thought, even, something so foreign that it makes you nervous. but you truly wouldn’t mind doing this forever — not one bit. not if it’s with him.

and, unbeknownst to you, maybe that promise of forever isn’t all that far off.

maybe it’s only a couple rooms away, hidden within the depths of a certain drawer, until suguru finally gets the courage to bring it out. and maybe, just maybe — that day isn’t all that far off, either.

(suguru smiles at you, from across the table. he thinks you look ethereal, sipping from your morning coffee, blinking tiredly. so sweet and angelic.

all he can think of is forever.)

[into-deepspace]

hi there! i saw you are taking requests hehe So i have this idea, how would the Lads guys (in specific Sylus) react to your past situationships, lets suppose you just happen to mention your last romantic interest and the way he treated you before him and he's truly horrified and like ''did you really allowed that? sweetie, why? that's absolutely, no, not acceptable.'' bc obviously he is better and treats us as royalty, he would be horrified to find out the audacity some man have hahahaha if this is something you are comfortable with i would love to know your take on this, thank u so muchhh, mwa

hiiii oh my goodness tysm for the ask!! this is such a interesting premise, i've just written sylus's part for now but i have ideas (and some rough drafts hehe) for the other guys' parts that i hope to post in the next few days 🥰 so, without further ado:

sylus vs your (not-so-stellar) past relationships

690 words, mc/sylus, mini-fic format, mentions of (past) over-controlling relationships, they/them pronouns for MC, MC is described as wearing a dress, no smut but Sylus does get a lil handsy with it oops

request info • remember to reblog your authors!

zayne (coming soon) • rafayel (coming soon) • xavier (coming soon)

MC frowns at themselves in the mirror.

They don't look bad. Truly, they look good. Great, even, in the dress they'd picked out for tonight's auction. No doubt about it, the fabric hugs and flares in all the right places. It could be described as show-stopping, truly, with the way it suits them so nicely.

But, at the same time, it's clear that MC has some slightly different proportions to the online model. It doesn't affect how the dress fits, or how good it looks but it does affect how much of certain pieces of skin are showing. They run their fingers along the edges of the fabric, trying to pull a bit, wondering if half an hour is enough time to procure some fashion tape and tug the dress around so that the coverage is just a bit more... well, covering.

There's a knock at the door, more an announcement than a true request for entrance, and then Sylus is striding into the room, his neat suit jacket draped over one shoulder like a cape. He clasps an expensive-looking watch onto his wrist as he crosses the floor, smiling as his eyes drag up and down MC's figure.

"I was going to ask if you're ready," he comments with a quiet smile and a glint in his eye, as he steps up behind them and drapes his arms around their waist, "but now I'm not sure if I want to leave the house at all..." MC flushes, gaze breaking from the mirror and dropping to the floor.

"Yeah," they manage, breath tight in their chest, both from having him so close and from preemptive nervousness regarding any comments about their choice of dress. "This isn't super- uh- public-appropriate." Their gaze darts back up just in time to watch Sylus raise an eyebrow.

Once again, Sylus's eyes rake up and down their body, this time less of a flirtatious look and more of a genuine search. His thumbs brush gentle, idle circles over MC's hips.

"I don't see why it's not," he says, and MC almost believes him with how genuine it sounds. "Look," he says, tracing the lines of the dress with the smirk of a man that knows exactly what he's doing. "All the exclusive parts are covered, aren't they?" MC can feel their cheeks burn warmer.

"I mean- well, yeah," they choke out. "But... come on, I'm not stupid." They look up at Sylus in the mirror, trying their hardest to not think about the pleasant weight of his hands on their waist, not right now. "Not like I haven't had a boyfriend before. I know how guys think." Sylus's shoulders straighten a bit, and a slightly more serious expression crosses his face.

"Oh? Do you?" he says. "Enlighten me, then." MC huffs, feeling remarkably like an animal in a trap.

"You know. People don't like it when their partners, well, parade themselves around. I'm not stupid. I know this is a little too much to be wearing out and about."

Sylus gives a few slow blinks, then lets out a measured breath. He searches their face in their reflection for a moment, as if trying to figure out just what's going on. Finally, with a soft, serious voice, he speaks.

"I don't know what sort of insecure boys you've dated in the past," he says with distaste, "but I don't find myself in the business of telling my partner what they can and cannot wear." One of his hands moves to their jaw and cups their face, gently turning their gaze from the mirror to him. With a unique softness, he presses a grazing kiss to their lips.

"So," Sylus continues, "unless you yourself are uncomfortable with the amount of skin you are currently showing, I think it would be best to go ahead and get your shoes on so that we can begin our evening."

Well. MC's face splits into a relieved, grateful smile — they aren't about to argue with that. They relax a bit, leaning against Sylus as they gaze up at him over their shoulder.

"Sounds good," they breathe. Sylus smiles back.

"Good."

[slightlymore]

deadly kiss

chief architect jaehyun x chief engineer fem reader

genre: office au, enemies? to lovers, dom x dom and trying to force each other to sub, romance, smut, fluff

warnings: +18, alcohol, language, explicit sexual content, oral fem receiving, fingering, random sir kink because i was horny like that, use of pet name baby for her during sex, gagging on fingers and sucking, light choking, raw, sex in office, creampie. 

words: 12k+

have this little something as I warm up back into writing. it was supposed to be longer and with some angst but it has been in my drafts for monthssss and I was sick of it ehaheah enjoy. if some of these things happened to me irl no they didnt :) 

────────────

Present, Monday 2 after the Kiss

That morning you woke up feeling the best you have felt in a hot minute. The sun was shining, the outfit you prepared looked good, you had no trouble putting on makeup that day and your hair looked great. Nothing could have disrupted such a holy morning.

Well, besides a pile of A3 papers on your desk. 

The sigh that escaped your chest as you stepped into your office sounded so defeated that your colleagues turned around in their wheeled chairs to check if you were okay. 

It’s not like you hated to have piles of paper on your desk. That was your job after all. 

It was the owner of those papers that made you roll your eyes so far back in your head that you saw green stars. 

“Can you kindly check these and confirm they’re okay? JJ :)” 

You stared at that yellow Post-it on top of the pile and the smiley face as if they committed a crime.  

“I don’t think you architects have any conception of math or physics,” you said, placing the papers on Jaehyun's desk maybe a bit too harshly. 

The man looked down at them with open palms then he prepared his cocky smile before lifting his eyes to look at you. 

He took his time with that: starting from the waist, going up slowly, shamelessly going over your breasts and finally face. 

"Hi," he tilted his head to one side and rested two fingers on his cheek. 

You rolled your eyes. 

"That project is halfway fucked," you explained, indicating the papers with your chin. 

Jaehyun's expression changed to a fake frown, going as far as giving you a little pout. "Oh, we can't allow that. Projects deserve to be fucked until the end. Just like yo-" 

You interrupted. "I swear if you continue that phrase, Jeong-" 

"Then what?" he interrupted you as well.

His eyes were dark. Eyelids low. But they were sparkling. 

You wouldn’t get intimidated. "I'll get you fired,” you said.

He chuckled. “That’s not what you said last weekend.” 

That’s right. It was all your fault. You’ve been bearing the heaviness of that fault for a few days now, in silence, and Jaehyun was just trying to make it even more difficult.

You leaned down slowly, looking around with circumscription but none of his crazy architect colleagues were paying attention to you two. If usually they’d be drinking champagne at 11 am discussing a building that breaks every law of gravity, they were weirdly dead inside that day. The project was probably kicking their ass too. 

Jaehyun stared at your cleavage underneath the dangling necklace you had around your neck before looking back up into your furious eyes. 

“Only because we made the mistake of kissing while drunk that Friday night, it doesn’t mean you can be unprofessional. Do you understand me?” 

The man’s eyes flickered and his cocky expression didn’t leave his pretty features. But he nodded once. “Yes, ma’am.” 

You straightened your back and cleared your voice, ignoring how that reply made your stomach churn. You blamed it on rage. Hearing his deep voice so up close made you irrationally mad. 

“Look again at that proposal of yours and the adjustments I made. I can give you a physics crash course if you need it.” 

“Really? Would you?” 

“I was being sarcastic. Do you think engineers in this place have time to babysit you little artsy people?” 

“Maybe I can give you something back for the effort?” 

You scoffed and crossed your arms, expecting some usual Jeong Jaehyun bullshit, like ‘a kiss’, ‘a date’, ‘my cock’. But he stood up and pulled down his dress pants on the thighs before getting the papers you gave him back and stacking them well together. 

“Like some artistic eye since you clearly lack that,” he said. 

You felt your jaw tighten at the insinuation. 

He got closer, his lips almost touching your ear. “There’s no need to be rude to me only because you think I’m attractive,” he lowered his voice, the little smirk never leaving his face. “I can play this game too.” 

You opened your mouth to reply but the swoosh he created by walking away made your hair get into it. 

“Thank you for the review,” he added already a few meters away. 

────────────

“It’s a theme park.” 

You licked your lips with furrowed eyes, your tongue still faintly tasting the hair conditioner. The meeting of the day was to announce the new project the firm was about to take on. One of the many you've been going crazy over lately. Of course, you had to be the one to take notes that day. You enjoyed the fair share of responsibilities your company had, but sometimes you really missed having a little secretary to do the little jobs for you. 

You sighed as your nails tapping on the keyboards accompanied the voice of the speaker. 

“There will be a few main rides we’ll be responsible for. Our engineers are great and I have huge trust in you all. For this task, you’ll have to work with the architecture team though.” 

Your typing stopped. A few of your colleagues murmured. Engineers were usually complete individuals. They could build rides for a theme park themselves with no need from the weirdos of the other office. They usually needed the engineers, never the opposite. 

“I think we’re capable of working on this on our own, sir,” you said.

The man sighed as if he expected the resistance. 

“This is just to ensure the theme park will also be-” he hesitated, “pretty.” 

The murmurs got louder. 

“Sir, you’ve seen my portfolio,” someone argued. 

“I designed a theme park on my own for my final university project and last year I-” somebody else added. 

The man lifted his palms like a tired father. “I know, I know. And your work is ideal. It is, however, very boring. Ugly colours. Mechanical innovation, yes. Is it interesting to look at? No. You’ll work with the architects. Meeting closed.” 

────────────

Jaehyun didn’t have to ask anyone why you all were mad as fuck after exiting the meeting hall. The rumour of the firm taking onto the project of a theme park has been whispered around in the CEO’s office for a few days now and he was lucky to have a charming personality and become friends with him. From the look on your face, you didn’t know and Jaehyun would have wanted to stop you and ask if you also wanted a coffee, maybe clown you a bit, but he didn’t manage to. He brought the white cup to his lips instead and blew the steam, going back with his mind to the Friday night, when you were doing the same. 

────────────

Past, 2 weeks ago, the Kiss day

“Coffee so late at night?” Jaehyun asked, getting closer to the drinks table. You were resting your red-wrapped hips on it, looking bored. 

“I had too much to drink already. Trying to sober up,” you replied and your voice came so muffled that Jaehyun had to stop and look at your face. 

You weren’t bored. 

You were completely drunk. Absolutely shit-faced. 

That wasn’t the most surprising part though. Everyone was drunk at that office party. Jaehyun himself was feeling too lightheaded for his liking. It was something else. 

“Are you acting cute right now?” he asked with a mix of shock and amusement. 

Your lips were pouty on the brim of the cup you were holding. You shook your head. 

Then you tried to take another sip from the steamy coffee but your wavering hand missed your mouth and the dark liquid slowly descended from your chin towards your chest instead. 

“Shit,” you looked down at your dress.

“God, are you okay?” Jaehyun was quick to grab a napkin. “Did you burn yourself?” 

He took the cup from your hands and put it on the table behind you before gently tapping away at your neck. 

“No, it was just warm,” you assured him. “It’s very sticky though. Poured too much sugar. I’ll go wash up,” you announced and placed your palms on his chest to gently push him away from your path. Jaehyun watched your back as you tried to walk towards the corridor but the way you were dangling to one side and then the other in your high heels made his anxiety go through the roof. 

“Wait, I’ll help you,” he wrapped your shoulders with one arm. 

You hummed as if appreciative and Jaehyun blinked a few times, squinting then relaxing his eyes to try and read all the signboards and see where the hell the bathroom was on that floor. He was also almost shitfaced from the suspicious wine the office brought, but also, he forgot his glasses home that day. 

What a couple of losers you two were. 

“Listen, I think we need to go down a few floors. I have no idea where the hell the bathroom is here.” 

You hummed again and leaned with all of your weight against Jaehyun’s chest. Your eyes were closed as if about to fall asleep. 

Jaehyun sighed, a little sarcastic “great” huffing from his chest. He let his arm fall from your shoulders to your waist for better support and he hit the lift button with his knuckles. It was fortunately already there and Jaehyun had to half drag you and half push you inside of it. For a moment he felt relieved, but then your weight pushed him against the wall and he had to wrap his arms around you again to not make you slide down. 

“Can you just hold yourself up for a second?” he felt irritated. 

But his expression relaxed as you lifted your face. Your half-closed eyes and open lips made him gulp.

“Can you smile for once? I really like your dimples,” you replied and poked one of his cheeks. 

Jaehyun was flabbergasted. The stuck-up, boring, and work-obsessed chief engineer was poking his cheek while her coffee-shined tits were pressed against his tie?  He felt like seeing you for the first time. 

“Ah, come on!” you added, grabbing his face with your hands and making him pout. “You never smile.” 

“I smile a lot, you just never look at me,” he tried to speak while your thumb was digging into his cheek. Unfortunately, he thought, but he kept that to himself. 

You tried to say something else but the ding of the elevator made Jaehyun look towards the opening doors towards a dark corridor. You turned his face towards you again and leaning in, you pressed a chaste kiss on his plump pink lips. 

Jaehyun’s eyes widened and although drunk, you looked surprised as well. “Shit, sorry,” you tried to take a step back but Jaehyun’s palms on your waist didn’t let you go. 

He slid one hand on your neck, right below the ear and pulled your face back to meet his lips again. You hummed, closing your eyes and firstly grabbed at his jacket before you finally decided to wrap his neck with your arms and abandon yourself in the kiss. Your lips tasted like sweet coffee and Jaehyun hoped it could sober him up as well because he felt suddenly very dizzy. And when you slid your tongue inside his mouth he almost moaned, letting his palms caress your spine before groping at your soft ass. Your body got even closer to his and he had to move just once to pin you against the elevator wall. You grunted and Jaehyun wondered if he pushed into you too harshly, but then you kissed him again as if you could not get enough and he relaxed, welcoming the leg you lifted on his hip. Your skin felt soft under his fingertips and it felt even softer under his lips as he started to kiss your jaw, going down your neck following the coffee trail and cleaning it up with his tongue until it reached the chest. Your eyes were closed and your hands in his hair were making his half-hard cock throb too much. With an enormous almost inhuman force he stopped, hands resting on both sides of your head, chest lifting and falling quickly. Your sensual gaze made him gulp and when you talked, he could barely hear it. 

“What?” 

“I said, what department are you from? Sales?” 

“I’m an architect. Jeong Jaehyun?” 

Your face fell so fast that Jaehyun had to take a small step back. 

“God,” you furrowed your eyebrows, “not an architect.” 

Jaehyun had to remain still for a few minutes after you left to process the whole situation. 

────────────

Past, Monday 1 after the Kiss

Monday morning came quicker than you expected and with it the memories of Jeong Jaehyun the architect’s tongue inside your mouth. The elevator you were taking was the same and with the corner of your eye, you could exactly pinpoint where he pushed you against the wall to give you the best make-out session of your whole life. You shuddered and looked away. You psyched yourself to forget everything the whole weekend, or at least, to stop worrying about it, but it was very hard when you knew you would end up seeing him at work. You tried to drink from the cup you were holding but the taste of coffee made your brain buzz with the memory of Jaehyun licking up the sweet and bitter liquid from the swell of your breasts as if he was doing it at that moment too. 

You really drunkenly kissed a coworker? An architect? Your university friends would probably laugh at you for the rest of their lives. 

You didn’t know much about him so you hoped that by not seeing him often every embarrassment would soon die out. 

But apparently, he knew a lot about you. 

The shoes you chose that day were flat and comfortable and you were quick to reach your desk and sit down, avoiding everyone that might have seen something. 

Clearing your throat you turned on your computer right before a shadow in the shape of a man could obscure the keyboard. 

You looked up and Jaehyun smiled politely, the head to the side like a little bird. 

“Good morning,” his voice was deep. 

You opened your mouth and you felt your glasses slide down your nose. “Good morning?” 

The man blinked at you for a moment as if waiting for something. “Well?” 

You slowly looked around, darting your gaze across the room to understand what the hell was going on. Was he there to talk about the kiss? Was he a little boy who thought you were dating? Did you promise something? Did you offend him and he was waiting for an apology?

“Do you need something?” you pushed your glasses back and gulped at his sudden chuckle. 

“Yes. The projects for today,” he replied with both hands politely extended towards you. 

“Huh?” 

You took in the view of the man talking to you. Wasn’t Jeong Jaehyun the architect dude with sick tongue skills, and that’s it? Why was he talking to you as if he knew you? 

Then you felt as if the gods themselves hit you in the back of your head. 

“You’re-” you covered your mouth with the fingers, “you’re Jisung?” 

The man’s smile disappeared to make space for confusion. He furrowed his eyebrows while thinking about what he could reply to that. 

“You do call me a different J name every time so, I guess that’s technically true for you.” 

You took off your glasses because you were afraid the sudden heat wave to your cheeks and chest could melt them off. 

“I thought you were-,” you started, “I thought you were some assistant. You’re the Architect team chief Jeong Jaehyun? The man that I kis-”, you stopped yourself. 

Jaehyun couldn’t conceal a sudden chuckle but you also saw the shadow of annoyance in his dark eyes. 

“You had no idea who I was all of this time we worked together? We talk all mornings and you hand me the projects.” 

You were too stunned to speak. 

“We’ve been doing this for months now,” he added. 

You felt your mouth dry. 

Jaehyun scoffed and placed his hands on your desk, leaning down as if having a secret to share. 

You gulped and looked around but no one paid you any mind. 

“You need Architects to make out with you for you to remember their name and face?” 

His whisper made your skin shiver and while you were previously looking at his eyes, you had to stare at his necktie instead after that phrase. 

“Why do you keep coming to my office? You have nothing else to do? Send some assistant over from now on,” you blabbed. 

Jaehyun straightened his back. 

“Okay.” 

You nodded as if you just somehow resolved that embarrassing issue. 

“You’ll come to my office starting tomorrow and hand me the projects instead.” 

“What?” your voice was louder than you expected and a few heads turned around. 

Jaehyun’s lips stretched in a lazy and cocky smile. “I’ll get them. For today,” he grabbed the pile of papers from your desk. “Thank you.” 

His back looked huge as he turned around and exited the office. 

────────────

Jaehyun was fuming. 

He threw the papers on his desk with such violence that two poor interns jumped in place with their little coffees. 

“Everything is under control. Go back to work and mind your business,” he barked at them. 

He forgot he styled his hair that morning and when he tried to pass one hand through the fringe his fingers got stuck in the wax. 

“For fuck’s sake,” he sat down and unbuttoned his sleeves instead, rolling them up. 

You really had no idea who he was. 

He was shocked, embarrassed, and so fucking offended. 

No, he felt humiliated. 

All of those mornings of him longing- no. He would not admit that to himself. All of those mornings of him working with you and you couldn’t even remember his name, let alone his face. 

Was everyone just a nameless and faceless pawn around you? He has never seen a more arrogant and rude person in his whole life. 

And the fact he was still burning with desire for such a conceited woman was driving him insane with rage. 

────────────

Your fingers were a bit trembling after Jaehyun left. That was possibly the most embarrassing experience of your entire existence. 

You rested your forehead on your palms and waited for a few minutes to see if you could get your shit together and start working. 

And you kissed. For fuck’s sake. 

The mewl that escaped your lips caught the attention of some fellow engineers who were kind enough to stop and ask if you had some sort of stomach ache. 

You lifted your head to look at them in the eyes and you realized you had no idea who these people were. 

Your parents have always told you to stop overworking yourself and start having a bit of fun too, especially in school. It shouldn’t have been such a huge issue, but realizing you made zero close friends or even acquaintances because you’ve been staring at your desk and computer for all of that time was a shocking realization. 

You cleared your throat and gave your coworkers the kindest smile you could pull off. 

“I am fine. Thank you very much.” 

The people whispered something between themselves and walked away with awkward nods. 

“She’s definitely sick. She smiled.” 

“You know when people are about to die and they change personality all of a sudden?”

“She never looked me in the eyes before. I felt like getting turned to stone after seeing Medusa.” 

You felt your glasses slide down your nose again at the gossip and you exhaled deeply. 

Jeong Jaehyun - and his tongue - made you realize people considered you the worst bitch in the universe. 

────────────

The HR secretary furrowed his eyebrows. 

“What do you mean, all profiles?” 

You were tapping your thigh with one fingertip in front of his desk. 

“I need all profiles of all workers in the company to choose the- uh- the best team for this huge important project, yeah.”

The young man wasn’t impressed but he wasn’t going to deny the desires of the notorious Chief Engineer. 

“I will send you the credentials to access the files, ma’am. Anything else I can do for you?” 

“Thank you. That’s all,” you gave him a small nod and turned around. “Actually,” you stopped in place and hesitated. “I know this is not your job but could you talk to someone and bring coffee to the Architets’ office?” 

The secretary blinked. “Coffee, ma’am?” 

You gulped down the irritation. “Yes, please. Don’t say it’s from me. Please.” 

────────────

“This coffee is a gift from Chief Engineer Y/N,” the HR secretary announced as he accompanied the interns carrying a tray. 

Jaehyun was groaning and extending his arms above his head when he suddenly heard the commotion. 

“I think she’s punishing us for something we did,” one person said, grabbing a cup of coffee and looking at it suspiciously. “This is also so expensive.”

“Well, even if she spit in it, I will drink it, you know what I mean,” another winked and got shoulder hit by his cackling friends. “What? She’s scary but she’s hot.” 

“She’d probably bite your dick off.”

Jaehyun got closer and stared down the iron tray. 

“You said Y/N sent this?” he asked the secretary who seemed just as baffled, Jaehyun realized. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Did she say why?” Jaehyun grabbed a cup and smelled it. Normal coffee. 

“No clue sir. She instructed me to not tell you she sent it but-,” he interrupted himself and got closer. Jaehyun leaned towards him to hear. “-we need to track who’s giving what food to whom, you know. It’s right for you to know if perhaps something bad happens to all of you.” 

Jaehyun winced. The jokes about you being evil were funny only when he made them. 

“You don’t think she would actually do something to this coffee, right?” Jaehyun asked. 

The secretary straightened his back and although Jaehyun had no idea what expression he had on, the other man felt somehow intimidated because he stuttered a tiny “no, sir.” 

“Good. Why did she ask you to do this?” 

“Oh that, she came over to ask the profiles of all the people working at our company.” 

Jaehyun’s head was hurting. You were so convoluted. 

“Why?” 

“No clue, sir. She said something about making up a team.” 

You had no business reading the info of all of your coworkers for that. The idea of you wanting to learn more about him after the terrible interaction you had that morning made him roll his eyes in annoyance at how good it felt for a second. 

────────────

You felt like a thief although you got the info of everyone legally. You cleared your throat and started to scroll through all the profiles, mildly interested. You opened the first one and tried to read but then you puffed your cheeks and closed it. 

The J was in the middle and you pretended to have accidentally stumbled upon Jeong Jaehyun’s profile instead. 

Alright alright, you yelled at yourself in your mind. You were interested. God, his kiss was so good and his face, wow. You couldn’t forgive yourself for not looking at him once in all of those months. 

And you’ve been so rude to him. You shivered. 

Jeong Jaehyun 14 February 1997. 

You rolled your eyes. That birthday must have been made up. It’s impossible for a man like him to be a Valentine Boy. 

You tried to remember what you knew about Aquarius but your astrology knowledge was too limited so you hoped that would be compatible with your sign. 

Pause no. Why were you thinking about astrology compatibility? Maybe you were actually dying?

Tsk, graduated cum laude, the rascal. He wasn’t just pretty but also smart. 

Your eyes slowly darted across the page, eating up all the info the company could legally allow you to read and you had to admit that his projects had been insane even before coming to your company. 

And the ones he had under his belt afterwards? Well, they were all projects you also worked on. You felt sick. 

Were you really such a bad person?  

You sighed and closed his profile, starting to read the others. 

────────────

Jaehyun’s day has never felt longer. He thought he should probably go to the gym because the pain in his back was only getting worse and he should probably extend those muscles somehow. 

His brain was going over the menu for the dinner as well when he heard your voice in the main hall. He exited the lift and saw your smiling face greeting some of your fellow engineer colleagues. 

“Good work today, Minnie.” 

Poor Minnie smiled back as if the queen herself greeted her and almost tripped against the poor man who got blinded by your sudden kindness. 

Jaehyun stopped in place and sighed, trying to suppress the cackle. 

“See you tomorrow, ma’am,” the man added. 

“Have a nice evening, Yeonjun.” 

Jaehyun lifted one eyebrow at Yeonjun’s glossy eyes and walked over. 

He saw you sigh and turn around right into his chest. 

“I see you’ve done your homework.” 

You gasped and took a step back to be able to see him in the face.

“Do you remember my name too?” Jaehyun added with a cocky smile and you exhaled, crossing your arms on your chest. 

“Of course, I do.” 

Jaehyun buttoned up his jacket with a smile. “Good. Don’t forget to come to my office with the projects tomorrow.” 

“Listen,” you stopped him as he tried to walk around you. “I am- sorry for what happened this morning. I am very embarrassed about it.” 

You couldn’t look him in the eyes and Jaehyun had to tighten his fist inside his pants pocket at how cute you looked. 

“But-” you lifted your gaze on him. It was piercing. “-you have no right to treat me like this.” 

“Like this how?” 

“You’re punishing me.” 

Jaehyun opened his mouth then closed it at the accusation. It was true but he didn’t like for you to know about it. 

“I am not.” 

“You are.” 

“Coming to my office and seeing my pretty face is a punishment in your opinion?”

You put your tongue in the cheek with a scoff. “This. You’re- so cocky. You’re annoying.” 

Jaehyun’s dimples made an appearance. “You think I’m annoying? You didn’t know who I was after months of working together. That’s annoying.” 

“I apologized.” 

“Very insincerely so.” 

“I learned everything about you.” 

“Stalker.” 

You scoffed again, putting your hands on your hips. His everlasting smile was driving you nuts. 

“Alright. See you tomorrow, then. In your office. I’ll gladly hand you your work as you clearly burn with desire for me to do.” 

────────────

Back to Present, 2 weeks after the Kiss

The following days rolled on fairly easily. The annoyance and anxiety about going to Jaehyun’s office died slowly as you realized you only had to walk over, say hi, and place papers on his desk. 

If he thought you were rude by not small talking it wasn’t worse than not remembering his name and face after months of working together. 

Everything went back to normal and you started to be also decently popular in your office. Shocker, but if the chief is in a good mood and treats everyone with kindness, everyone works more efficiently. That’s the only good thing Jaehyun brought into your life. 

Well, that was until that day and the stupid yellow Post-it sticker on your desk. 

“Can you kindly check these and confirm they’re okay? JJ :)”  was still in front of you on your desk after the meeting about the Theme Park. 

There’s no need to be rude to me only because you think I’m attractive, was also still rolling in your brain and you wanted to go back to his office and yell that he was not attractive at all. He was just an annoying prick who had the upper hand because you embarrassed yourself in front of him once. 

But there were limits to all and he was starting to be too much. 

────────────

Jaehyun expected an Engineers and Architects meeting to happen at a certain point but he didn’t expect for it to be only the two of you. 

“So, I guess you’ve heard but we’re tasked to work together on a theme park.” 

You were alone in the huge meeting hall, one in front of the other, the large shiny desk separating you. Jaehyun looked at your white button down snuggly covering your breasts and the tiny bit of lace adorning your bra pocking out made him swallow dryly for the fourth time in one minute. 

“Yes,” he simply said. You moved and the shirt covered the lace. He sighed. “We can finally have a pretty theme park.” 

You rolled your eyes and Jaehyun wondered if you’d roll them the same way while he’d pound you into the mattress. 

His crush on you has been annoying him for a while now, but the recent development and the fact you didn’t even know who he was for a long time while he was under the impression that you might fuck soon has been a very low blow to his self-esteem. 

Now, he was trying to fight the attraction so badly but his cock had a brain of his own apparently because even if he found you arrogant and annoying, he really liked the soft side you showed him multiple times and that turned him on too much to ignore. 

“Engineers also have taste.” 

“Well you kissed me so I guess you do have a bit of taste, I’ll give you that.” 

You let the pen go and crossed your arms on your chest. “Can’t you keep it in your pants for one second so we can discuss this like normal adult coworkers?” 

“It is in my pants.” 

“You’re being inappropriate.” 

“You brought up cock talk.” 

“You brought up kiss talk.” 

“You kissed me first.” 

Jaehyun smiled at the victory and you leaned back in the chair. 

“Can we please stop talking about that and pretend it never happened?” 

“Actually you owe me another apology.” 

You waited with a lifted eyebrow. 

“You basically said ew architects after kissing me that night.” 

You scoffed. “And I stand by that. I’m not apologizing. Are baby architect’s feelings hurt?” 

Jaehyun licked his lower lip in annoyance. “Why?” 

“Why what?” 

“Why do you hate architects so much?” 

“Why do you hate engineers?” you resorted. 

“I don’t hate you.” 

“You do.” 

He lowered his voice. “I don’t. You want me to hate you, maybe.” 

“Why would I want that?” 

“That’s your homework for the day. Think about it.” 

“If you’re under the impression that I pretend to hate you because I secretly like you so I secretly would like for that to be the case from your part too, well, you’re wrong,” you smiled although you started to feel the muscles of your thighs shake ever so slightly under the desk. The building was almost empty and the lights were getting turned off one by one leaving you and Jaehyun alone in the huge room, faces illuminated by the blue screens of the computers and the constellation of lights of the skyline. 

“That’s a very convoluted thought. Of course, you don’t like me. You don’t even know me.” 

“You can stop rubbing that in. I know you now.” 

“Well, then it’s a matter of time before you start liking me.” 

“You’re so arrogant.” 

“I am arrogant?” 

“Well, I don’t have the presumption that everyone in the building is onto me.” 

“How do you even know I’m like that? You don’t know me.” 

“You walk around like you have a 9 inches cock.” 

Jaehyun widened his eyes for a second then leaned forward to laugh. His eyes closed and his perfect teeth shone on display. You realized he got whiskers when laughing hard. It pissed you off. 

“And if I do?” he tried. 

You scoffed with a smile. “That’s not human.” 

“9 is a lot, I’ll give you that, but it's not inhuman.”

“Well, I hope you don’t have 9 because I’d be worried about your lower back carrying that around.” 

“Holy shit, I do have back problems. You think it’s that?” 

“For fuck’s sake, Jeong Jaehyun. Please let’s get back to work.” 

Jaehyun stopped talking and you started to actually explain the new project. You both liked the little smile that remained on each other’s lips. 

────────────

Jaehyun was not at his desk that morning so you bit your lower lip, slowly putting down the files for the day. You had no reason to see each other or talk about anything else since both teams had to work on their share of tasks before meeting again but you just wanted to- you had no idea what.

You looked around and touched a few of his desk items before noticing his phone silently blowing up. You looked around the office to see if he was coming but he was nowhere to be seen. The walk around the desk felt natural but also stealthy and you hoped no one was looking at you. You sat in his chair and the jacket he kept on it smelled like him. 

You sighed. Ew men and their hot cologne, right? 

The phone’s screen had no time to turn off as text notifications rolled on the screen again and again underneath your gaze. You wondered if he was part of many active groupchats before realizing they were all private messages both from registered numbers and numbers with no name. 

You felt your throat itchy upon realizing they were mostly from women trying to chit-chat. You scoffed, staring the phone down. He was that popular huh? And he wasn’t replying to any of them? He was so arrogant-

“Fuck!” you whimpered, bringing one hand to the back of your neck and finding someone’s cold knuckles. “What do you think you’re-” you grabbed the hand and turned around. Jaehyun’s perfect eyebrow was lifted. 

“What are you doing at my desk?” he asked, interrupting your question. 

“I came to give you the files,” you stood up and looked at your hand still holding his fingers. You let them go in the same instant. 

He hummed and sat down before realizing you were still there. “Is there something I can do for you?” he turned towards you in his chair. 

You cleared your throat. “I need your phone number.” 

You had no idea why you said that but it was too late. You tried to maintain a neutral face.

Jaehyun’s expression didn’t tell you anything about what he thought. 

“You have it. It’s written on the file all workers have-” 

“Your personal cellphone number,” you interrupted him. 

The man’s eyes were piercing but you didn’t want to look away. Your brain was running quickly to make up some excuse about why you wanted it but he didn’t ask. 

He extended one arm to reach the pen holder and got one, clicking it. When he turned around he searched for your hand, the same holding his fingers before, and grabbed it gently, palm towards his face. 

“Why are your hands so cold?” you mumbled as he started to scribble on your skin. 

“Because my heart is warm,” he replied without missing a beat. “Also, I just washed them.” 

You rolled your eyes, watching him write his number slowly. His fingers were on your pulse and you hoped he could not feel how quick it was starting to get. Why was he writing on your hand instead of a piece of paper? And why didn’t you just take your hand away? Being around him made you feel and act stupid.

One strand of hair fell from his hairdo, obscuring his eyes from your gaze, but then he finished and looked up at you, the neck extended showing a single vein popping out from his tight collar. 

“There you go,” he added. 

You slid your hand from his hold and fought the urge to tighten it in a fist as if to hide something shameful. 

“Thank you,” you replied and exited the office. 

────────────

That night you were at your home desk, head in hands, trying to come up with a problem about the project you could text Jaehyun about. 

Everything could be an email and bothering coworkers outside of working hours was abhorrent, but he was Jaehyun and you didn’t care if he got mad at you. 

No. You wanted him to get mad at you. But why?

You couldn’t think of anything at all so you let your phone go and walked towards the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine. 

Last time you got drunk you kissed him, you remembered. The glass was cold and the wine fresh and you tried to drown the memories of his lips on yours because they made you shiver in embarrassment. Or desire? 

Your growling stomach communicated the need for a snack too but the only thing you could think of making were chicken nuggets so you threw them on an oven tray and hoped for the best. 

When Jaehyun heard his phone ring he was about to jump on the bed, kicking his feet and giggling before realizing he was a grown man with cock and balls. 

“Hello?” he talked into it calmly, after clearing his voice. He knew you'd call after that awkward encounter in his office and he paced the apartment the whole evening.

“Hey,” your voice on the other line sounded muffled. “You answer surprisingly well for someone that gets calls and texts from women 24/7.” 

Jaehyun smiled and sat on the bed. “So this is what it was about, huh.” 

You didn’t reply for a moment and he desperately wanted to know what expression you had on. 

“I’m calling because of an issue with the project,” you mumbled after a bit. 

“Y/N,” Jaehyun called calmly. 

“Yes.”

“Are you drunk?” 

“I am not drunk. I am working right now!” 

“Every time you’re drunk you think of me?” 

“I said I am not drunk.” 

Jaehyun kept ignoring you. “Well, you can’t deny it’s a weird coincidence.” 

“Fuck-” you suddenly said and Jaehyun stopped talking. 

“Oh, shit-” you repeated and dropped your phone, probably on the ground. 

“Y/N, what’s happening?” 

Jaehyun could not make sense of any of the sounds on the other side but it didn’t seem anything good. 

“Y/N, everything is fine?” he spoke again but you probably couldn’t hear him. 

“My fucking nuggets-” he heard your whimper as if far away and the moment the smoke detector went off and you mumbled something about a fire extinguisher Jaehyun got his shoes and ran outside his apartment. 

────────────

Your voice got cut off as soon as you opened the door after the endless incessant doorbell rings from someone clearly very panicked. You opened and his arms were so strong that your breath went missing and you were forced to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck by the sheer force of his embrace. You’ve never seen him with soft unstyled hair and the worried expression underneath his fringe just made him even cuter. 

“You’re just-,” you heard Jaehyun’s deep voice on the crown of your head, “-so fucking stupid.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows but he went on. 

“So irresponsible. I am shocked at how you could have let your fucking oven burn when you have the brains to build a whole city.” 

“I was distracted,” you spoke softly into his shirt. It smelled like laundry detergent. His mix of insults and compliments weirdly made you giggle.

Jaehyun let you go and grabbed your face with both hands, finally looking at you frantically and squishing your cheeks. 

“I am okay,” you assured him. “Everything is under control.” 

The man sighed deeply as if slightly placated but the line between his eyebrows didn’t get smoothed out. And when he finally looked behind you and assessed the tragic situation of your burned-out oven covered in white foam he had to close his eyes for a moment to gather his shit. 

“It’s okay! It was an old oven anyway,” you turned around, trying to ignore that he was still holding your hand. 

“Your house could have burned down with you in it.”

“How do you even know where I live? And you called me the stalker?” you confronted him. 

“It’s written in your profile.” 

He let go of your hand and got closer to the kitchen, looking at the mess with hands on the hips like the embodiment of a dad. It made your guts tingle. 

“Sure. And you know all the addresses of all of your coworkers,” you followed him, resting your elbows on the island. 

“Of course, I don’t. I don’t like them. Stop talking nonsense and let’s clean this out.” 

You had no idea in what capacity you helped because at a certain point Jaehyun just gave you a glass of water and told you to sit down. 

You didn’t feel that well. 

Both because you were kinda tipsy and you went through all stages of grief putting out a fire, but also because he was there, and he said he liked you. Right? Jung Jaehyun said he liked you. 

And not only. 

"I know you're capable of dealing with this alone. You don't need my help but I'd like to help," he said as you tried to push him to the side and clean the mess yourself. No one talked like that before and a weird fuzzy sensation softened the muscles in your legs making you sit down. 

You sipped on the water without talking back, staring at the way his forearms were flexing while cleaning out your oven and the surroundings.

“No need to be meticulous. They’re coming tomorrow to change it anyway,” you tried, feeling awkward as no one did you any favours before. 

Jaehyun didn’t reply and you realized he looked very handsome when focused. Well, not that he was ugly when unfocused, but the way his jaw looked sharper and his gaze darker made you sigh and take another sip of water. 

“Is your hair bothering you? I can give you a headband,” you tried again. 

“You are bothering me.” 

You scoffed. “I am trying to be nice right now. Your hair is pretty long. Doesn’t it go in your eyes?” 

You were expecting some witty flirty reply back, along the lines of you pushing it back for him, but Jaehyun didn’t look in the mood. 

The truth was that you felt very embarrassed about the situation; as if you failed at something and Jaehyun was scolding you. That was new for you. 

“Fuck, this could have been a tragedy,” he mumbled, as if almost on cue. 

“I am sorry to have worried you.” 

Jaehyun stopped to look at you. “Why are you apologising to me? You’re the one surviving a fire.” 

“But I am okay. You seem much more shaken than me.” 

Jaehyun kept silent and when he stood up you realized he finished cleaning up the foam and the dark burning spots. You stared at the back of his head as he washed his hands in the sink. 

“Also thank you for being here,” you added. You didn’t know what else to do so you got up and walked towards him. Was a hug weird? Should you just shake his hand and call him a pal? 

His body stiffened a bit feeling your timid arms around his waist. “You’re still drunk?” he simply said, patting his hands dry with your kitchen towel.  You stopped and slid them away. 

“You said you like me,” you mumbled against his back. 

“Yep, still very drunk.” 

He grabbed your hands to be able to turn around and face you, resting his hips against the kitchen cabinet. 

“You said there were issues about the project when you called,” he added. 

You blinked at him. “You really want to talk about work right now?” 

Maybe he did. He was your coworker after all. And he certainly didn’t come over to “save” your sorry ass if you didn’t call him about it. 

Suddenly you felt very embarrassed. 

You kissed the man in an elevator after not even remembering his name and then asked for his number and now you wanted to make out with him in front of your destroyed oven? 

You gulped and took a small step back but your breath stopped as his hands holding yours grabbed your waist instead and didn’t let you move away too much. 

“I am buying some time,” he explained. 

Your voices got so low that you barely could hear him, but your gaze on his lips helped you understand what he was talking about. 

“Are you scared to kiss me again?” you asked. 

“Are you going to ask me to forget it happened Monday morning again?” 

His fingers were delicate on your skin for a moment you remembered you were wearing your pajamas. The thin top definitely didn’t hide anything from his gaze and the midriff being exposed to his knuckles made you shiver. 

“I won’t ask to do that if you don’t make it awkward.” 

“Fucking your coworker is always awkward.” 

You blinked at him as if suddenly realizing you were standing half naked between your hot coworker’s thighs (who was an architect!!) “I didn’t say I was planning to fuck. Just-uhm kiss.” 

Jaehyun smiled and your eyes darted to his dimples then back to the white flash of his teeth. 

“You think you’ll be able to stop after one single kiss?” 

You stepped back and crossed your arms on your chest to feign confidence but mostly to hide the tremor in your arms. "Try me."

Jaehyun took a moment to let his gaze slide on your features. “You get very cute when you’re drunk, you know that?” 

“Well, to quote someone, I guess the stick I have up my ass disappears.” 

“I can put it ba-”

You put your fingers on his lips. “You will not continue that disgusting phrase,” you warned. 

Jaehyun smiled wider and his lips rubbed on your skin. He kissed the spot then he kissed one of the fingertips. You inhaled, eyes trained on his gaze, unable to move away anymore as the room suddenly got sucked of any sound besides your own breath. 

He grabbed that hand and kissed your wrist, this time closing his eyes for a moment as if savouring it. You gulped. And when he locked eyes with you the shiver that went down your spine manifested in a little exhale. Jaehyun smiled again, a little curve on his plump lips you felt on the softness of your fingers. 

The kiss felt the same as the first one you exchanged in the elevator after he pulled you closer towards himself. But this time you took your sweet time, letting your palms feel his chest, the skin on his neck, the thick hair on his nape. He did the same, caressing your back with his knuckles, rubbing your thighs with his blunt nails, and grabbing your ass in your flimsy shorts. 

You whimpered in his mouth at the feeling and he hummed back, a low sound, almost a growl, your lips apart but tongues still swirling until you dove back in. 

“Can’t you be like this in the office too?” his murmur made your eyes open. He was licking his lips while his fingers intertwined with yours in a slow dance of pushing you back towards the couch. 

“You want me to get called by HR?” 

He flashed you a small chuckle. “That secretary is so scared of you by the way. He thought you poisoned the coffee.” 

The couch’s arm dug into your thighs and you sat on it, pulling Jaehyun closed by the waistband of his sweats. His eyelashes fluttered as you looked up at him, then again as you dragged your palm upwards underneath his shirt. 

“And you think I didn’t?” you tilted your head to the side. 

“I am still alive.” 

“Not for too long. I might suck the life out of you," you placed a single wet kiss on his hip bone making him hiss. “Take this off,” you tugged at the shirt. 

Jaehyun’s hum was low. “Shit. Ordering me around?”

You looked up. “Please take this off?” you changed your tone but you couldn’t hide the mockery. 

He exhaled amused and did it in a second, pulling it by the collar and throwing it on the ground. But you didn’t have time to do what you intended to because the torso you so desperately wanted to see disappeared from your sight - Jung Jaehyun Chief of the Architect Department fell on his knees, savouring the delicate skin of your inner thigh. 

You gasped at the sensation and the anticipation of what was actually going to happen made you suddenly dizzy. 

You wanted to grab his hair to support yourself, physically or morally, but his head jerked back and with the most angelic and devilish smile, he pushed you back on the couch. 

“You should be respectful,” you chuckled at the manhandling. "I'm a senior." 

Jaehyun grabbed your ankles with one hand as a reply while the other swiftly slid your garments off your body. “I will be respectful after I am done,” he murmured. “For now you will have to take the disrespect, I’m afraid.”

You tried to think of a witty phrase but your legs were being directed on his shoulders, his knees were on the carpet in front of you now and his voice came from between your thighs. Oh, and you were naked. 

Too much work for your brain. 

“Thought you were a gentleman.” You didn't like your shaky voice. You didn’t like any of this. Didn’t you make some kind of bet just moments before? You forgot anything you two said to each other already. 

“I am a gentleman who knows when to not be gentle.”

And you soon realized what that meant. 

You had no idea if other men's tongues have felt that velvety before or if you were just developing the fattest crush on Jeong Jaehyun the Architect as he was devouring you and making you biased. But fuck he knew how to eat pussy. And you made sure he knew that. 

Jaehyun hummed appreciatively at the praise, his deep eyes covered by his long eyelashes making you unable to look away. So you slid your hand in his luscious hair, pushing it away from his face and pulled a bit. His arms and back muscles flinched and he visibly enjoyed your breathy moans when he increased the pace of his tongue's movement. 

"Shit, Jaehyun-" you curled your toes against the smooth skin of his spine then gasped, feeling his long fingers rub your slick before swiftly sliding inside of you. It was wet and messy and loud and the moment he let go of your clit with a dirty plop to start kissing your stomach instead you knew that night wasn't going to end with just that. Should you stop him? Should you continue? Would you be okay tomorrow? 

"Where are you?" Jaehyun curled his fingers and you bit your lower lip. 

"I'm here," you replied against his wet lips, body rocking back and forth on the couch as he fingerfucked you, the veins popping on his bicep making you swallow dryly. 

"I need you to focus on me. What are you thinking about?" he leaned down to rub his nose against your ear before outlining it with his tongue. 

You shivered underneath him and your nails probably left some indents in his pristine skin. 

"About how much I want your cock inside of me," you exhaled. That was the truth. 

Jaehyun hummed deeply and his breath became more shallow. 

"And?" he kissed your neck slowly, so different from the pace of his wrist to make you dizzy. 

"And I'm thinking of the consequences," you curved your spine, raising the tone of your voice on the last syllables. "Fuck, Jeong, this is-"

"Yeah?" he came back to your mouth, letting you whimper your moans against his lips. "You want me to stop then? No orgasm, no consequences."

"If you stop-"

"Then what?" 

You shuddered, frantically palming his hard chest then going down to loosely grab his moving wrist. 

"Are you going to beg for it? I'm kinda curious to see you like that," he added. The roughness in his already deep voice sealed the deal and you couldn't do anything but let your head fall back and bite down a scream as you came around Jaehyun's fingers. It was too late. It was already too late the moment you pushed him against the damn elevator wall. 

He let you decide when he should stop moving his fingers and you felt yourself clench rhythmically around them as you desperately tried to calm down. His lips were on your throat and you realized that he was talking, murmuring something so sweetly that for a moment you wished for him to just hold you until you fell asleep. 

"Good girl," he placed a kiss on the tender skin, then on the corner of your lips as you opened your eyes to look at his gorgeous face. His cheeks and ears were dusty pink and it made your heart skip a beat. 

You pulled him down and kissed him again, slowly and deeply. Then he smiled, stopping your hand from reaching underneath his sweatpants. 

"Tonight is all about you," he whispered. 

You furrowed your eyebrows but the mind-blowing orgasm blew your mind so well that you had no reply. 

"Why?" Your voice was a quiet waver. 

"I don't want you to regret anything," he replied. "And I don't want you to think about the consequences." 

Somehow it made sense. Waking up tomorrow and realizing you let him fuck you with his tongue felt better than realizing he came down your throat. 

Were you really that proud? Maybe you did have a stick up your ass. 

"Don't argue with me," he gave you a crooked smile as he got up on his knees. 

"I'm not arguing with you."

"You have a specific look in your eyes when you're about to debate me." 

You crossed your arms on your chest mostly to cover up given the sudden disappearance of his body from on top of you. Then you sat up and closed your legs. 

"That's not true. You're making things up." 

Jaehyun collected his shirt with another smile and you stared at his long back and the way his sweatpants sat low on his hips. 

The fucking consequences. 

"I really need you though," you whispered. 

Jaehyun wore his top. "How do you want me?"

"Riding," you replied. 

He chuckled. "Of course you do. You can't possibly let an architect force you to your knees, can you?."

You curled your toes at his words. "No, sir." 

Yes, he fucking could. 

Jaehyun leaned down again to slide his hand on your jaw and almost kiss you. But he whispered instead. 

"I'll let you ride me if you keep calling me sir." 

────────────

You didn't notice when Jaehyun left your apartment that night. You thought that the way he took you to your bed bridal style and let you nuzzle into his chest would roam your brain the whole night and would prevent you from falling asleep yet you had the best night's sleep in months.

And you hated to admit it but waking up that morning you felt embarrassed out of your mind but you'd probably have crawled out of your skin if you actually fucked him until the end.

"Hope you got home well," you texted him. Maybe that was how adults did stuff. Maybe that’s what he wanted from you in the first place. Just fucking. Yet why was he so considerate? 

"Yes :)", he replied with his stupid smiley face a second after. Was he not busy? How did he even see your texts in the middle of the hundred he was getting? That made you almost kick your feet and you realized you were slowly descending into madness. 

"And I slept as well as you did after taking care of your gift," he added. 

You furrowed your eyebrows. "What gift?"

"My boner" 

You sighed so much that you thought you had turned into a horse. Then you had to pass one hand on your face as flashes of Jaehyun's hand fucking his cock while thinking of you entered your brain. 

"It was you who stopped me from taking care of it myself." He was driving you insane. Your coworker - an architect (!!!). 

"I wasn't blaming you :)" 

"You're a bit of a masochist"

"I'm everything when I'm with you" 

"Barf"

"Honestly I thought you wouldn't even want to talk to me today" 

"Well we both know that you have poor judgement" 

"Maybe I should have let you ride after all :)" 

"Okay byee I'm turning off my phone" 

"Or suck me well"

"I'm blocking this number" 

"Or let me blow your back" 

"Sending this to HR" 

"Andy, if you're reading this, the Chief Engineer let me fuck her with my tongue and she liked it"

────────────

Texting and fooling around was one thing, but seeing his polished figure while sober and in the middle of the workplace made you almost have a panic attack.

"Good morning," you trilled, hands already pushing the files on his desk. 

"Hey," he lifted his face and gave you a warm but professional smile. 

"See you around," you nodded once and turned towards the exit hoping not to hit the glass door with your face. 

He let you go.

Then you came back the day after. And again. And again. No further exchange. Give papers. Take papers. See his face. Lose your mind at night with your hand between your legs and his name on your lips.

Then your name, pronounced by those lips you’ve been staring at as he pretended to sleep the previous weekend, made you stop in place and close your eyes. You swallowed and got ready to turn around. 

He was already there, standing right behind you and you inhaled his cologne as you took a step back. 

His shirt was open enough for his collarbone to peek through and the way his half-exposed arms looked, crossed on his chest, made you almost angry. 

“Would you like to have lunch together?” he asked. 

You lifted your gaze to meet his eyes the looked around his figure. Jaehyun smiled, tilting his head to the side to get in the middle of your gaze. 

“Don’t look at them. Look at me,” he added. 

“It’s easy for rumours to start forming,” you murmured, imitating his pose. Your fingers grabbed your arms perhaps a bit too hard. 

“It’s just a normal lunch.” 

“I don’t do normal lunches. It would look weird.” 

“At least you’re self-aware.” 

You snorted and turned around. “The last floor is always empty,” you only said as you walked away. 

────────────

Jaehyun didn’t actually expect you to be there. Somehow he thought the way your voice would waver when he was around, or the way you melted under his touch back in your apartment, the noises that you made because of him, all because of him, was just some incredibly orchestrated big joke. You didn’t try to speak to him after that weekend and you didn’t linger around his desk anymore. Hell, you didn’t even text him. 

He had to do something or he would go insane. 

Yet you were in the last room of the upper floor, sitting down on the only couch inside of it, staring at your little plastic container with your lunch and waiting for him. 

You were adorable. 

He had to stop in place before entering to gather his shit. 

Then he knocked two times on the glass frosted door and your head snapped. Your eyes looked so pretty that he felt his fingertips tickle. 

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” you replied. 

Jaehyun closed the door behind him and he could sense the way your spine tensioned. He wanted to pass his palm on it, he wanted you to curve it as he’d grab your neck to pull you up against his chest as he’d pound into you from behind again and again until you’d break. 

“What have you got?” he walked slowly and sat down. The couch was sturdy enough. He made a mental note. 

You looked down at your container as if seeing it for the first time. “Cold pasta. What about you?” 

Jaehyun licked his lips. There you were, looking at him as if hoping for him to devour you. 

"Don't look at me like that."

You closed your mouth. “Like what?” you smirked.

He exhaled. 

"Should I close my eyes then?" you giggled. 

Jaehyun opened his lips to breathe and your gaze fell on them.

"Do you know what would keep my eyes closed?" you asked with a lower voice.

The man's eyes darkened and a whiff of air dilated his nostrils as he leaned in and knocked the air out of your lungs. The kiss was rough and its rhythm erratic. His palms were on your jaw and cupping your head. Yours were on his chest, grabbing at his shirt. You had no idea where your food containers disappeared because suddenly your hands were full of him and your legs straddling his body as he plopped you on his lap. 

You opened your eyes a little when you felt him pull away to let you breathe, the air flowing between your lips still brushing against each other. You looked at them, they were flushed and plump and you desperately needed to taste them again. His gaze was on your eyes and his deep voice surprised you.

"You opened them again." His voice was so deep that you felt it vibrating in your chest. 

You met his eyes.

"I guess you'll have to keep kissing me, then."

His palms on your waist felt wide and so warm that when he slid them on your ass to pull you closer you felt like mewling. Close so close it was so close and you were at work. You were kissing at work. You were sitting on his lap, on his sexy black dress pants, fingers sliding in the slit of his shirt, feeling his chest, his neck, his jaw, his hair. Fuck. 

“We need to slow down,” you exhaled, pulling yourself away from him.

“Why? You’re afraid you’re going to cum too quickly?”

His arms wrapped around you even tighter and his amused and warm mouth attached to your throat instead. You felt your eyes roll back in your head as he nibbled on your skin, peppering wet kisses all over it. And when he scooted his hips forward, his palms on your ass pulling you closer until your chest hit his face, you inhaled feeling his hard cock underneath you. Jaehyun looked up, drinking in your reaction. 

“Show me how much you want this. Show me that you don’t care about the damn consequences.”

Like a spell, your hips started to move on their own, rubbing yourself on him. You were desperate, humping him like a mad woman and his choked moan as he let his head fall back on the couch, extending his throat, was the final thing about his maddening presence to fully break your mind.

"Does it feel good, sir?" you didn't hide the mockery in your tone, feeling your control sliding back in your hands. 

But then Jaehyun shattered it again.

"Ride me."

His eyes were two dark cuts under his scrunched eyebrows and his command made your whole center boil. You stopped your movements and you shuddered on top of him. 

His chest was expanding and shrinking under your palms and when you pushed into it to be able to stand his Adam apple shifted in his throat as he swallowed. 

"Undress me."

Your order made his tongue poke his inner cheek and you smirked, mirroring his expression.

Jaehyun sat closer to the edge of the couch to reach your body and your skin shivered with goosebumps the moment his long fingers unbuttoned your pants. His gaze never shifted away from your face and it made you boil with need. 

The fabric hit the floor and you scooted it to the side, the pant legs so wide your heels just passing through, leaving you and your naked and elongated legs for Jaehyun to touch with his wide palms. They were warm as they slid up your thighs, your breath hitching as you looked at his open lips, his own breath stuck in his lungs and released only when he pulled you towards him. 

You bit your lower lip, feeling his mouth on your stomach, and then you let your head fall back as his fingers trailed your sides, lifting your top until reaching your breasts. You lifted your arms and Jaehyun stood for a moment to help the fabric away from your limbs and before you could kiss him, he sat down, with your between his knees, and unclipped your bra. You gulped, helping yourself stand by placing your hands on his wide and firm shoulders. 

“This is so inappropriate,” you whispered, muffling a whine as Jaehyun kneaded your soft breasts, looking at the skin fill the gaps between his fingers. 

“Yeah? Is being naked like this in front of me making your sweet pussy achy and wet?” Jaehyun’s deep voice made your stomach shiver as he spoke on your skin, trailing open wet kisses down your navel.

You were about to reply, your hazy brain still able to formulate some snarky comment, but when his hands cupped your ass, and one slid to your thigh to lift it on his shoulder, your hearing flatlined. You felt your underwear being pushed to the side and his luscious tongue making you gasp. 

“Jaehyun-” you felt your legs suddenly wobbly and his grip on your body tightened, his mouth licking and sucking at your clit making you grab his perfectly coiffed hair and pull. 

His groan travelled inside of you and his blunt nails dug into your soft skin before he let you go, sporting shining lips and heavy breath. 

He didn’t speak, and he only grinned as he sat back on the couch, his arrogant face making you quiver almost as much as his tongue inside of you. He patted his lap. 

You scoffed trying to hide a laugh but before you could roll your eyes at him, his hands were on your waist, making you sit flush against him. 

“If you dare to roll your eyes at me, I’ll give you a real reason to do that,” he murmured against your lips. 

You kissed him, deeply and messily, grabbing the short hairs at his nape with one hands, and cupping his balls with the other, making him hiss. 

“Oh yeah?” you whispered back, massaging him through the tight dress pants he was wearing. 

His adam apple bobbed in his throat but his eyes shone with mischief. He nodded, not for one second intimidated. It infuriated you. 

So you undid his button and slid his zip down, feeling the wetness of his precum adorning his expensive boxers. 

“And yet, look who made a mess,” you cooed, sliding your hand underneath the elastic band and making him close his eyes and extend his neck back. 

“God,” he groaned. 

He was long and thick, his skin velvety and soft, hot with need. You jerked him with your hand slowly, swallowing at the thought of having him inside of you, splitting you apart. 

Maybe you made a sound, or maybe he saw your expression as you opened his eyes but he smiled faintly. 

“Come on, end this torture. You want me as badly as I want you, chief engineer,” he said. And you would have had another ounce of brat in you if only he didn’t say the following things. Just one word, and it made you dizzy with desire.

“Please,” he murmured. 

Your hand shook as you felt his bigger one on top of yours, directing his pretty cock towards your aching core. You let it go and Jaehyun aligned himself, lifting his gaze with a heavy breath to see your lustful expression as you sat on it slowly. 

You both exhaled, his deep growl and your higher pitched breathy sound, until you reached the base, his girth making you see stars. 

“Good girl, take it all,” he breathed out, letting you adjust. 

“Fuck, Jaehyun-” you gulped, feeling your skin hot, as you lifted yourself once before sinking deep down again. 

He hissed, “I know, baby, I know.”

The petname worked as a spell, throwing you into a fast haze, riding his cock as deep as you could. Jaehyun wrapped one arm around your waist, while the other hand raised to shove his fingers inside your mouth. 

“I’d love for the whole company to hear how good my cock makes you feel, pretty girl, but we don’t want a call from HR, do we?” 

You gagged on them at first, then sucked, trying to turn down the noises you didn’t even realize you were making. 

And when your movements became sloppy and you felt on the verge of losing your mind, Jaehyun’s hips snapped, thrusting up inside of you and making you fist his pristine shirt. 

“That’s it, baby, take it like a good girl.” 

You let go of Jaehyun’s fingers to whine, but then you choked again as his wet hand warmly grabbed your throat instead, making you steady yourself on his wrist instead. 

“Fuck, just like that,” he pulled your body even closer to himself, squeezing your breasts against his expensive wristwatch. It would probably leave a bruise and for some reason the thought of being marked by Jaehyun made you quiver on his cock so hard that with a few deep thrusts you came undone, shaking in his arms and calling his name again and again and again. 

Jaehyun’s warm breath tickled your face and his muscles were pumped with tension as he forced his hips to still, feeling your clenching walls tighten around him rhythmically. 

“Baby, I need to cum or I’ll pop a fucking vein,” he chuckled breathlessly, the hand previously on your throat cupping your face instead. 

“Then cum inside of me,” you replied, ears still ringing from the raging orgasm. 

Jaehyun groaned and snapped, drilling into you so fast that you didn’t have enough force to fully oxygenize your lungs, his arms tightly around your soft body and his face buried in the crook of your neck. 

The sounds were dirty, the tall windows of the small office were getting foggy, and you wondered how long you’ve been fucking like rabbits over your lunch break when Jaehyun’s hips stilled, lifted ever so slightly from the couch, deep inside of you, and you felt on the verge of another orgasm seeing him dig his fingers into your flesh. 

“Fuck-” he exhaled, and you bit your lower lip, whimpering as you felt his spurts of cum coating your insides. Then his hips moved again, prolonging his high as much as he could, the vein on his forehead showing you just how much blood was pumping inside of him. 

You’ve never felt like that and you’ve never seen him lose control just as much as you did. 

“Jaehyun- I think I’ll-” you pressed your palms into his hard chest and he rested back on the couch, looking at your with dark eyes and plump lips. 

“Give me another one, beautiful,” he murmured, his cock sliding out of your and his fingers collecting the cum before shoving it back inside. 

“Shit-” you closed your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you and your spine curved making you bite your lower lip until almost tasting blood when he added his other hand, rubbing your sensitive clit. 

“I can’t-” you mumbled, “I can’t- please-”

“Yes, baby, cum all over my hands,” he urged, his gaze never leaving your face as if bewitched. 

And you did. 

────────────

You were grateful for Jaehyun not abandoning you in the office’s bathroom alone to clean up the mess you asked for but the one he did. 

“You know I can technically use my cock to take the cum out,” he tried again outside the door. 

You rolled your eyes amused. “I said, no thanks, I got it.”

“The tip is anatomically made so that a man is able to take out the cum a previous man-” he started to ramble but his words were cut off when you opened the door. He blinked staring at you and you noticed his ears were a dusty pink. 

“Do you always share fizzy drinks bottle cups facts when embarrassed?” you finished adjusting your clothes. 

He cleared his voice. “Do you think there would be sex facts on the cups of fizzy drinks? Also, why would I be embarrassed?” 

You crossed your arms on your chest for a moment, taking him in. 

“Do you perhaps have a little crush on me, Jung Jaehyun?” 

He scoffed, putting his hands in his pockets. “No.” 

You expected him to say that but the sudden confidence threw you off. 

He leaned in. “It’s not a small crush. I thought it was obvious.” 

He then straightened his back and opened the office door. ���Come on, chief, I think we might get a call from HR anyway because we had a 3 hour long lunch.” 

You shook your head, trying to conceal the little giggle your body apparently wanted to let out. 

“You have too much faith in your skills. We went at it for like 15 minutes at best.” 

Jaehyun stopped in place and turned around slowly. 

You stopped too. 

And when he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, giving your ass a good spank, the yell and laugh that escaped you was probably heard in the whole company.