#patent filling | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jupiterpilgrim · 25 days ago

Text

Attitude

Kim Chaewon x Male Reader

word count: 13K

It's Friday.

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

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

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

“Wow. You look like shit.”

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

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

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

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

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

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

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

She always does.

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

“It’s nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blink up at her. “What?”

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

“Mm-hmm,” she hums, noncommittal.

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

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

God, the floor is fascinating.

Is that gum?

No, just a weird stain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do what?” you ask, feigning confusion.

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That gets her attention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t have meltdowns,” you mutter.

“Sure you don’t.”

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

Then, she strikes. “When did it end?”

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

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

You nod, your throat tight.

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nope.”

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

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

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

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

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

You chuckle despite yourself, shaking your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you really think so?”

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

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

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

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

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

“It is a religion,” you mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure it was.”

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

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

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

It’s more than nice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m a realist,” she quips, smirking.

“No, you’re a donut thief.”

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

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

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

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

“Only because you keep hiding my mouse batteries.”

“That was one time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you say finally.

“For what?”

“For… being here.”

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

Instead, you ask:

“Can I hug you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair,” you reply, grinning.

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“On what?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’d miss me,” you shoot back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it doesn’t come.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal,” you reply, grinning despite yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time stops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She arches an eyebrow. “The tea?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, well, it’s true.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then her panties come into view.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you get an idea.

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

The reaction is instant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No complaints,” you whisper against her lips.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She raises an eyebrow. “You tell me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pizza,” you agree immediately.

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

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

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

You mock gasp. “You wouldn’t.”

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

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

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

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

Her smirk widens. “You’re on, puppy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wince slightly. “Ouch.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#gg smut #kpop gg smut #chaewon smut #chaewon x reader #kim chaewon smut #kim chaewon x reader #le sserafim smut #kpop m!reader #kpop male reader #kpop male oc #m!reader #le sserafim #kim chaewon le sserafim #kpop smut #kpop #smut #male reader #m! reader

1K notes · View notes

bouroboros · 1 year ago

Text

Petty boy: aye faut je reach out mais faut j'lise un livre, mais en même temps y faut je reach out, mais faut je lise tous les posts? Dans cet ordre là? Pis ish...mais? Ok mais y'aurait pu se forcer? Comme y'aurait pu essayer de patenter de quoi (y'a un pdf tsé) mais comme là là modi batinsse, en plus la font, pis la mise en page? Comme sacramant. Pis twitter? Y check tu vraiment ses emails (depends)...

#mais anyway y'a l'air de gosser sur un esti de temps tsé y va faire quoi faire livrer du homard parce-que y'est pas capable de jaser #sur 56 pills en même temps mais comme au moins y commande des mclobsters pas par generosité mais parce-que le tap passe so neways #pis sa fille fait cuire des hamburger pour ceux qui mangent po des patentes qui vivent dans l'eau #medium saignant ses beugueu #pis y'a du poulet pas rincé pis ça crée la grosse controverse #yas j'ai perdu une job pour exactement ça #comme tsé les choix un moment donnévsjdkdkdksskssk #comme si je manquais ma shot o u b l i e ça #oops ça l'allait su l'autre post so

0 notes

mead-iocre · 28 days ago

Text

Christmas Market | Alexia Putellas x Reader

summary: you should've listened to your girlfriend. part of the brat!reader universe.

warnings: just christmas fluff x

wc: 2.6 k words

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Christmas in Barcelona was your favourite time of year. The air was crisp, filled with the sweet scent of roasted chestnuts from street vendors. The city twinkled with holiday lights strung across the narrow streets, casting glows on the cobblestone sidewalks. The soft hum of festive music played from cafés, mingling with the distant laughter of people out to celebrate the holiday.

You and Alexia stepped out of the grand, ivy-clad restaurant. The clink of champagne glasses and the hum of conversation followed you as you pushed open the door, the cold air of the city enveloping you immediately.

Dressed in a black velvet body-con mini dress, black lace stockings, and your new pair of christian louboutin heels, you looked good. Looking over at your girlfriend, you bite your bottom lip as you take in the sight of her.

Alexia was wearing the black halter top that you loved on her-- they showed off her lovely shoulders and arms. Her hair was slicked back in a neat ponytail, granting you full access to admire her face the entire evening.

And you did, much to your lover's embarrassment.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

"You look good, baby"

Alexia rolled her eyes, but a slight blush coated her cheeks. She playfully glared at you from across the table, shuffling in her seat. She mutters a quiet "stop it.”, but there was no malice in her tone.

You laugh. She was so easy to rile up and annoy. And unfortunately for her, you enjoyed seeing her grumpy. It was hot.

Uncrossing your legs, you extend one until they lightly caressed the side of her trousers. Alexia's head snapped up from the menu she was looking at, raising one eyebrow at you.

You ignore it, pointedly looking down at your own menu.

Your black patent calfskin-covered foot continues it's passage up and up until it just about grazes your lovers lap.

But the journey was cut short by a hand grabbing your ankle, stilling you completely.

You pout at her from across the table, your freshly applied lipgloss gleaming under the dim overhead flights. You smirk when you notice Alexia's eyes dropping to your bottom lip. As easy as she was to rile up, she was also easy to seduce.

"Quit it" She mutters, squeezing the foot in her hand. She adjusts in her seat, letting your foot rest more comfortably across her thigh. You shift your foot from her hold slightly, just a little to the left, earning a hard look from her before she moves your foot to rest in a more appropriate place on her lap. “brat”

She clears her throat. "Vale, have you chosen?"

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

The Christmas lights upholstered on nearby buildings danced in the soft glow of the evening. The faint sound of a guitar strummed in the distance.

Dinner was delicious.

But you weren't ready for the night to end just yet. Alexia has been so busy with work lately, preparing for the last stretch of games for the year. Practice has been longer, she's had post-practice meetings to attend, and you've been bored at home with no one to annoy. You wanted to spend as much time with your girlfriend tonight before she inevitably has to go back to focusing on football.

You shift the weight on your feet. Louboutin heels. Classic. Stunning. But at this point, they were starting to feel like a form of slow torture. You had insisted on wearing them tonight, not because they were the most comfortable choice, but because they looked perfect with your lace stockings.

And you certainly did not mind the look of approval from your girlfriend when you slipped them on earlier that night.

"Shall I order an Uber?" Alexia came up from behind you, reaching into her pocket for her phone, but you stop her.

"Wait. Let's go to the Christmas Market"

Her head snaps towards you, an expression of utter disbelief in her face. “The market-- bebe, ya es tarde. It’s late”

She gestures towards you feet with a flick of her chin. “And you’re wearing heels"

But you were stubborn. And as soon as you made up your find, it was hard to steer you away from it.

”Come onnn. It’s not that far." You plead at her. You pull out your phone, typing in "christmas market near me" in google maps. A few options pop up, and the nearest one was a 10 minute walk from the restaurant. "See. It's only a 10 minute walk"

“Bebe,” An arm clutches your elbow. “you’re wearing your new heels”

"So? I walk in heels all the time”

Alexia groans, massaging her temple. She’s been told most of her life that she was as stubborn as a mule, but she swears you are the most stubborn person she has ever met.

“Si. Fine. But I don’t want to hear you complaining when your feet hurt because of those heels”

"Fine." You turn away, head down, focused on the google map directions. Your heels clicking sharply as you strut in the direction that the arrow is pointing towards.

Alexia can only sigh and shake her head, quickly jogging over to catch up with you.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You walked on through the festive streets, the Christmas lights now casting a soft light as you wander through the different stalls. Hand in hand, the air felt even colder against your cheeks.

For a moment, you were far too entranced by all the sights to focus on the pain pulsing from your feet. About 5 minutes into your walk to the Christmas market, you felt the pinching in your feet. For a while you could ignore it.

But now the pain came charging back.

Your jaw was set in that familiar stubborn line, and you were less talkative than usual. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, was happily admiring the market stalls, her eyes scanning all there was to see. There were stalls for handcrafted ornaments, delicate glass figurines, and hand-knitted scarves.

Ahead, a golden carousel spun gently, its colours vivid against the evening sky. Laughter from children and muted conversations were the only sounds that filled the air. You grabbed the Barcelona captain’s hand and tugged her closer to the carousel, your face lit up with excitement at the thought of being off your feet for a minute or two. “Let’s ride the carousel”

Alexia laughed, shaking her head. But she let you pull her towards the ticket booth for the carousel. “Estar loco— Vale. Let’s go”

You made their way to the carousel, slipping into a pair of loveseat carriage. The lights of the market twinkled around you as the carousel begun to take you for a ride.

The fact that you were temporarily relived of the pain in your feet as you sat beside your lover was a bonus.

As the carousel spun, you shared laughs and smiles, the world outside of your little bubble fading away. It was one of those rare moments in life when everything felt right—the perfect combination of place, time, and heart.

Alexia took out her phone from her pocket, snapping a few photos of you and then turning the phone so it can capture the both of you. Alexia scooted closer so she can rest her cheek against yours for a photo. She smelled good. A mix of something warm, sweet, and achingly familiar—like a fire burning low, above roasted chestnuts and sticks of sweet vanilla.

“hace frio”

You turn your head to look at her, not hearing her clearly the first time. “hm?”

Alexia puts her phone back into her pocket before she brings her hands up to her mouth. She rubs her palms together, blowing warm air into them, before she brings her hands to your cheeks. She gently holds your face between her palms, her hands providing some much needed warmth from the bite of the cold. “your cheeks are cold, mi amor”

Pretty hazel eyes meet yours. You could see her own cheeks start to turn rosy, but here she was warming yours.

“My lips are cold too”

Alexia bites her lower lip, her eyes dropping to your lips. She brings you closer, gently tilting your head. “We wouldn’t want that, huh?”

Soft, plump lips meet yours. The cold was the least of your worries.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

After the carousel, you both decided to wander through the rest of the market.

You hated to admit it but your feet were really starting to hurt.

Glancing down at your feet, you wince slightly as another sharp wave of discomfort shot up your legs.

But there was no way you were telling Alexia. She will probably have that annoyingly attractive smirk on her face the entire way home, and the last thing you needed right now was a gloating girlfriend.

You mask the flash of pain threatening to spill on your face.

Then, you caught the whiff of the aroma of warm chocolate. You both followed the scent, winding through the market until you reached a little stall tucked between the old stone buildings. It was decorated simply but beautifully—festive red and gold ribbons, a sign that read “Chocolate Caliente con Brandy” in a looping script, and snowflakes delicately painted on the wooden cart.

You approached the stall, where the vendor—a cheerful older man with a wide grin—greeted you. "¡Buenas noches, chicas! Hot chocolate?”

“Si, we’ll take two, por favor" You were hoping the little bit of alcohol would numb the pain swelling in your feet. It felt like your toes were being put through a meat grinder. “I’ll have two shots of Brandy in mine, please”

You ignore the eyebrow raise Alexia shot you from your peripheral.

The vendor nodded and got to work, carefully pouring thick, rich chocolate from a large pot, adding a dash of brandy in one mug, before doubling it for yours. He hands over the two steaming mugs. You accepted the cup, the warmth spreading through your hands.

You wished it was your feet that was getting relief though.

You brought it to your lips and took a sip. It was exactly what you needed—silky smooth, indulgently sweet, with just the right amount of kick. You hoped the alcohol would numb the growing pain in your feet. Shifting your weight from foot to foot, you hoped Alexia wouldn’t notice.

You watch from the rim of your mug as your girlfriend tries a bit of the hot chocolate. She takes a sip and beams at you, throwing up an uncharacteristic thumbs up which you laugh at, briefly ignoring the pinching feeling in your feet.

“Let’s go,” She asks, taking another sip of her hot chocolate as gestures towards the other colourful stalls. “There’s more to see”

You grit your teeth. The last thing you wanted was to keep in walking even further from the entrance of the market. You were both already so deep inside the market, engulfed in the crowd of market-goers and cosy stalls. The thought of having to walk back on uneven, cobblestone grounds in these heels just to leave made you want to throw up.

But you were stubborn.

And you weren’t about to willingly admit that Alexia was right.

You knew that if she found out that you were in pain, she’ll immediately drag you home. You weren’t ready to let the night end just yet.

With a deep breath, which you try to mask as naturally as possible, you give her a tight-lipped smile and take one step forward. You could feel the heels digging into the arch of your foot, your toes squished together.

Ouch.

Bloody fucking hell.

You were going to throw these shoes out the window as soon as you got home.

Sipping your hot chocolate, you clench your jaw as you eye the uneven, cobblestone path ahead. As you walked a few paces, trying your hardest to focus on the twinkling Christmas lights, you failed to notice Alexia’s glances at your feet.

Truthfully, she noticed your discomfort earlier on. She had been keeping an eye out and watching your step for you to make sure you don’t trip.

She knew that you wanted to spend as much time with her before she had to focus on work. While she would’ve loved to see you break first and admit that she was right about your painful heels, she hates seeing you in pain more.

“I swear, I can see your expression changing from 'wow the lights are so pretty' to 'I’m in fucking pain' every time we stop.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “No, I’m fine,” you said quickly, flashing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You threw your empty mug of hot chocolate in the bin.

All of a sudden, you feel a hand gently tug you by the crook of your elbow. You wordlessly let her drag you to a spot behind one of the stalls. You were just about to open your mouth and ask her why she dragged you to a secluded spot like a serial killer would, when all of a sudden your girlfriend turns around and crouches down in front of you.

“Que? What are you doing?” You blinked in surprise.

Alexia smirks, before gesturing at her back. “Piggyback ride,” she said, with the same mischievous grin. "You’ve been too stubborn to tell me, and you probably won’t admit it.”

“Admit what—?” You start but shut your mouth as soon as Alexia gives you a knowing look. Fuck.

“Stubborn girl. C’mom, get on” For a moment, you were speechless, caught off guard by how she could possibly know. You considered playing it off.

But the thought of walking another step in those heels was almost unbearable.

She reached back to grab your hands and help you onto her back. With one swift motion, you were hoisted up effortlessly. You couldn’t help but grin.

Having an athlete girlfriend definitely had it’s perks.

Your feet, now happily relieved, dangled as Alexia began to walk through the market, the cool night air against your face, the warmth of your lover beneath you (in a different way).

The Catalan glanced back with a teasing smile. “Better?"

"Much better," you admitted, your voice light and happy. "I think I could get used to this.”

"I knew it," She said with a soft laugh, settling you a little higher on her back, making sure you were comfortable. “I told you those heels would hurt”

“I never said that,” You reply, wrapping your arms tighter around Alexia. You leaned your head against hers, whispering in her ear. “What if I just wanted a piggyback ride”

“Whatever you say, mi amor”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

The crisp air was filled with the scents of roasted chestnuts and pin. The gentle sway of your girlfriend’s movements was unsurprisingly steady. You leaned your head against her shoulder, the warmth of her body almost as comforting as the hot chocolate that you were sipping on earlier.

“You know,” You murmured, glancing up at the twinkling lights above them, “I should wear these heels more often.”

Alexia paused in her stride, turning her head to look at you. She had that wrinkle between her eyebrows that you so loved. “What— so you can endure the pain again?”

“No,” You chide softly, snugging your face into the crook of her neck. The soft knit of her coat hung loosely on her frame, exposing just enough of her neck to tempt you closer. You press a kiss to the skin where her neck meets her collarbone.

“So you can piggyback me more often”

She laughs at that, throwing her head back and all. Her hand gently stroked your leg. “I’ll give you a piggyback ride anytime, bebe. As long as you’re nice to me”

You tickle her neck in response.

Soon you pass a stall selling charming hand-carved wooden reindeers. People were milling around, laughing and enjoying the festive atmosphere.

Leaning down to whisper in her ear, ”You’re sure you’re not getting tired? You’ve been carrying me for a while now.”

Your lover raised an eyebrow, the playful glint in her hazel eyes unmistakable. “What, you think I can’t handle a few pounds of gorgeous woman?”

“Well you have been slacking on the pitch lately— ow” A pinch to your ass.

Alexia adjusted her hold on you, and started walking towards the exit gates of the market.

“Shut up. Or else I will drop you, brat”

happy new year, my loves!

thank you for being one of the best parts of my 2024 x

read more brat!reader stories here

・❥・- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

#brat!reader #brat!reader stories #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas fanfic #woso x reader #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas imagine

569 notes · View notes

pawnshopbleus · 1 year ago

Text

On Top

Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Plinth!Reader

Warnings - Smut, Penis in vagina sex, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Abortion is mentioned once, Angst with a happy ending. Not beta read :0

Authors Note - I think this is the first time I’ve written p in v sex so please bear with me.

Standing in front of the door to the Snow residence, you made sure you had everything. The basket you brought over for Coriolanus and his family was filled with food, gifts, and roses for Grandma’am. You wanted to celebrate Coriolanus’s historic win in this year's Hunger Games. Well, Lucy Grey won, but she wouldn’t have done without your Coriolanus.

Your knuckles tapped the door three times and you patently waited until the door opened to reveal Grandma’am’s signature snow-white hair. She smiled at you and embraced you. She stepped aside and let you enter the home you had become so familiar with over the years.

“Grandma’am, I wanted to bring this little gift for Coriolanus’s big win. The flowers are for you, by the way,” you winked and placed the basket on the table. “Speaking of, where might he be.”

Grandma’am's eyes softened at your comment. “He’s with the dean,” she said, “He will be here any moment. You can wait for him in his room if you’d like.” Grandma’am rushed over to examine a particularly pretty white rose.

You sat on Coriolanus’s bed tracing hearts on his pillow for what seemed like hours before his door opened. He looked frantic as if someone found out something they weren’t supposed to find.

“Come on, Coryo, you’re supposed to be smiling. Lucy Grey won. Aren’t you happy?”

“I cheated,” he sighed.

Your heart stopped. He what? Never in a million years did you think that he would do such a thing. With strong women like Tigris and Grandma’am raising him, you would have thought that he had the decency to break up with a woman before he did that.

Coriolanus shook his head as soon as he realized that you might have been taking his comment in the wrong way. “I cheated in the games. Not on you. I would never do that.”

Your body relaxed and then it shot back up again. “Wait, what do you mean you cheated in the games? Is that even possible?”

Coriolanus explained what he did in order to get Lucy Grey to win. The compact mirror that used to belong to his mother had been packed with rat poison, poisonous to anyone who came in contact with it. He also put his father's handkerchief which was covered in Lucy Grey's scent in the snake's cage. If the snakes were familiar with her scent then they wouldn’t kill her. So it wasn’t her singing that saved her, it was Coriolanus.

“What are they going to do to you?” Your eyebrows scrunched together with worry. You couldn’t lose Coriolanus for his stupid, yet chivalrous actions.

“I don’t know yet. I don’t want to think about the future. Right now, I want to live in the moment with the prettiest girl in all of Panem.” Coriolanus smiled at how your face heated up so quickly, but deep down he was hurting. He knew what his punishment was. Twenty years of service as a peacekeeper in the Districts. He would leave the Capital and everything he’s known since he was a baby. That he could deal with, but losing you would be the hardest thing he would have to deal with.

He knew that you would run to your father and beg him to get Coriolanus out of serving, but he didn’t want you over-exhausting your father's resources. He was a big boy and he needed to learn how to deal with his consequences. He would be fine. After all, Snow lands on top.

He wanted to live in this moment with you. He wanted to memorize every inch of your body. He wanted to hold onto that memory and make it last.

Your smile calmed him. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, eyes focused on your lips.

You nodded your head and smiled into the kiss. It was soft and sensual, vastly different from the kisses that the two of you usually share. Your lips brushed together as your bodies got closer to each other. By the time the two of you broke apart, you were under him, his forearms caging you underneath him. There was no need for him to do that. This is where you wanted to be, with Coriolanus. The toxic and tyrannical world that you lived in was long forgotten as she swooped in for another kiss.

His lips traveled down to your cheek, then your jaw, and settled on your neck. He spent the majority of his time kissing and nibbling at the skin on your neck. There would be pretty little marks on your skin later, reminding people that you belonged to him. Coriolanus doesn’t remember when he got this territorial, but he sure loved the fact that Strabo Plinth’s beautiful daughter was his girlfriend. His girlfriend to mark and fuck and love whenever he wanted (with your consent of course.)

You laughed as Coriolanus licked the sensitive patches of skin that he nibbled raw. “My parents are going to kill me when they see what you’ve done.”

Coriolanus kissed your lips one more time in response to your comment. He then resumed his exploration of your body. His hands traveled down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up to reveal the bra that he unclasped in less than five seconds. He threw it on the floor of his bedroom, letting it get hooked onto the pile of books in the corner.

Coriolanus kissed in between the valley of your breasts. He flicked his tongue over your sensitive nipples. It was cold in the Capital of Panem and unfortunately, the Snow’s didn’t have indoor heating. Maybe it was because they didn’t want to melt.

You sighed in pleasure as Coriolanus continued to explore your breasts. After five minutes of teasing, he began to travel south to the part where you needed him the most. He hooked his fingers into the belt loops of your pants, “may I?”

You nodded, “Ever the gentleman.”

With your permission, he ripped your pants off of you and threw them on the floor. They were lost in the pile of clothing that had gathered on the floor. Coriolanus had shed some of his clothing as well. His ripped body was adorned in nothing but his white underwear.

Coriolanus spread your legs apart, “Look at how wet my girl is.” He traced a finger down the cotton of your underwear and slowly slid it up your legs. He wanted to drag this on as much as possible. You let out a grumble of frustration, getting tired of his constant teasing. Coriolanus gave in and got rid of your underwear.

The same finger that was used to skim the fabric of your underwear was now being used to gather your slick and spread it across your sensitive pussy. You took a deep breath of air into your lungs. The feeling was new, but not unwelcomed. Coriolanus flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit. Your clit was pulsing with need. You needed Coriolanus to drop the act and eat you out like he was a starving man.

“Coriol-” Your word was cut off by a moan as his mouth did exactly what you wanted it to do. Coriolanus delved into your pussy, tracing shapes onto your clit with his tongue. Your back arched off of the bed again. Coriolanus’s fingers teased your hole, trying to find the perfect time to ease into your channel.

Coriolanus’s fingers weren’t thick, but they were long making it easier for him to tease your G-spot. He fucked his fingers in and out of you as he sucked your clit. You had to bite your lip in order to keep quiet. Your lips were sure to be chewed raw after this, but they would serve as a reminder that you had a man who was willing to do this for you. Many high-society women told stories about their husbands not pleasuring them when they had sex. It sounded like a horrible life to lead, but they were rich and beautiful so they needed to sacrifice something.

Coriolanus curled his fingers up, letting them knock against your G-spot. He continued to kiss and lick at your clit. You were close. By the way you were clenching down on his fingers, he could tell that the waterworks were coming. Your naked chest rose and fell as you played with your nipples, increasing the pleasure that you felt. Your head fell even deeper into the pillow as a chill ran down your body. That chill eventually led to where Coriolanus was currently still working. He ate your pussy like a starved man, just the way you liked it.

Without warning, your juices painted Coriolanus’s face. He wasn’t surprised that you came so fast. The last time you had sex was two months ago. You were burning for him and he was burning for you.

Coriolanus wiped his face with the back of his hand and laughed. That was the first time he had actually made you squirt. It had always been a personal goal of his after Tirgis explained to Coriolanus how a woman's body works. At first, he was traumatized. He didn’t want to have the sex talk with his dear cousin, but when he laid eyes on you for the time, he wanted to do everything Tigris said and more.

His cock was hard. You could see the outline of it through his white underwear. You would tease him about his tighty whities later. Right now, you were laser-focused on the fact that Coriolanus hooked his thumbs under his waistband and lowered them, exposing his cock to the cold air. His hard cock slapped against his lower stomach. He jerked his cock off, spreading his precum all over his length. He wanted to make sure that it went in as smoothly as possible. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you.

He lined himself up at your core. He slid his tip up and down your pussy, gathering your slick with his dick before he pushed into you. Your insides welcomed him with little to no problem. The stretch felt good. You were all slicked up and ready for him.

Contraceptives weren’t a problem for you. Coriolanus was always careful and made sure to come somewhere that wasn’t your vagina. You didn’t want to have a kid just yet. First, you wanted to study at the University and travel back to District Two if you were given the chance. Then you wanted to get married. Pereferabbly to Coriolanus, but you didn’t know if that was possible yet. With his fate still undecided, your plans to marry the love of your life dwindled. Besides, even if you were to get pregnant your father would have enough money to get you an abortion

Coriolanus’s head fell forward as he buried his cock in your tight pussy. Two months and he had forgotten how good you felt. Your insides fluttered around him as he bottomed out.

Coriolanus began to thrust his cock in and out of you. He was methodical with everything he did. Coriolanus set a rhythm as he fucked into you. He fucked you hard and fast. The side of his bed slapped against the wall and his mattress cracked and groaned as he fucked into you. You prayed to the heavens that Grandma’am and Tigris were in a deep sleep. Or that the walls of the Snow residence were thicker than Coriolanus’s cock.

Coriolanus peppered your mouth with kisses in order to muffle your moans. He kept his pace as he did this. Your breasts jiggled as he fucked into you. Your hands found their way down to your extra-sensitive clit. You circled it with your fingers and moaned in pleasure at the feeling.

His balls slapped against your ass as his strokes became more deep and labored. He was going to come soon. He needed to come soon. He couldn’t hold on much longer. Two months with no sex had gotten to him. “Fuck,” he said under his breath as your pussy clenched around him. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his voice was strained from trying to keep his composure.

“Inside me,” you said. You were close too, the feeling of your finger frantically rubbing your clit and the feeling of Coriolanus's cock buried deep inside of you spurred your orgasm to come out from the woodwork.

You have come a second time, your pussy fluttering and squeezing Coriolanus cock that was still inside of you. A string of curses fell from Coriolanus’s lips as he came inside of you. His pulsing and throbbing cock pushed his come deep inside of you as he continued to fuck you as he came. His thrusts were slow but intentional. He would have lasted a few more seconds, but with the way that your pussy squeezed his sensitive cock, he came instantly.

Coriolanus slowly eased his cock out of you. The both of you were breathing heavily as Coriolanus went to grab a towel from his closet. He eased your legs open one more time as he cleaned you up. He was slow and gentle with it. He knew that you were still sensitive after two orgasms.

His come eased out of you and onto the towel. The sight almost caused him to get hard, but he didn’t feel like tiring you out even more.

Once he was done cleaning you up, he tucked you into his chest and covered the two of you with the blankets on his bed. He kissed your forehead and your cheek. Coriolanus’s love language was kissing. He loved kissing you. He loved doing anything with you, but kissing was his favorite.

Your eyes closed, but you weren’t falling asleep. Not yet. Sex might have been a clever distraction, but now that you were coming off your high you needed to know what will happen to the future of your relationship.

“Coryo, what is going to happen to you? I know that you know what your punishment is. I'm not stupid.”

Coriolanus sighed as he tried to keep his voice from waving. He rarely cried, but in moments like these, he did. Just you and him shielded away from the rest of the Capital were his favorite. “Twenty years as a peacekeeper.”

You let out a shuddering breath as you tried not to cry. Your body ran cold as you repeated those words in your mind. Twenty years as a peacekeeper. Twenty years without your Coriolanus. Your Coryo.

“My dad can-”

“No,” Coriolanus said. “I don’t want your dad to get me out of this one. I need to learn how to do things on my own.”

“What if I had a crazy elaborate plan to get you out of it?”

“Nothing could be crazier than this.” Coriolanus got this crazy idea. It has been sitting in the back of his mind ever since you agreed to be his girlfriend. “Marry me?”

This isn’t how he wanted to propose to you. He had already gotten your father's approval months ago. You were perfect for him and you deserve a perfect proposal. He wanted to take you to a fancy restaurant, get down on one knee, and ask you that way. Traditional and expected of Capital people, but things never go as planned when you’re a Snow.

“Seriously?” You were in disbelief. Of course, you wanted to marry him, but this all seemed a bit rushed. “I mean, yes, I’ll marry you, but Coryo. You’re about to leave.” Then, your brilliant mind comes up with the perfect plan.

You’ll marry Coriolanus, making him one of the heirs to the Plinth fortune. Thus making him more valuable to the Capital. This way you get to marry the love of your life and keep him within arms reach. Were you being possessive? Maybe, but it was better than the dean having to deal with an angry Plinth.

And your plan worked. You and Coriolanus got married a week after he proposed to you. It was a bit rushed, but the two of you were ready. He was going to be a loving husband, and you, a loving wife. Coriolanus’s punishment would be reduced to two months of training in District Two. He would then return to the Capital as a peacekeeper. He would keep the peace during the day and return to you at night.

Turns out Snow does land on top.

---------------------

Time to study up on straight people sex!

#coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games

4K notes · View notes

ew-selfish-art · 1 year ago

Text

Dpxdc AU: Damian decides that it’s time to go collect his brother from his assignment. Danny is starting to sniff out some non-ghostly bullshit for once.

Damian knew his twin had been exiled from the age of seven, banished to travel and observe how scientists around the world engaged with Lazarus water. The only word that Damian received that his spare was still alive were the letters of lab reports and findings that were sent back to base. As the Heir, he’s pushed to be better lest he himself be exiled or simply executed. Danny becomes a fleeting thought and then once Damian arrived in Gotham, a none existent thought.

They weren’t raised to be friends or even friendly. The were not taught codependency or allotted time to bond. The could have been perfect strangers if not for their appearance and the stories of Danny’s shortcomings becoming Damian’s praise.

It’s only once Tim informs him of an intercepted letter, one sent and saved from years prior, that Damian recalls Danny enough to care. Tim prompts him to share more, especially given the coup recently committed by Deathstroke (Slade) and Talia gone into hiding with her zealots.

At family dinner that night Damian supplies: “I suppose I should be the one to bereave my twin of his assignment. His reports will certainly go unread.”

Chaos in the Batfam ensues- meanwhile across the country- Danny sneezes and finishes writing his yearly report: “No major discoveries aside from public record patents (attached), No assistance required. -Spare”. He doesn’t know why he bothers, he hasn’t received any contact from his mother or grandfather since he was 10ish and certainly hasnt thought about his twin. But, if there’s a chance (even an itty bitty one) that his reports are being read and are holding off his reassignment, he’d rather keep assassins out of Amity Park.

Little does he know that this letter is about to be intercepted by Pru, former assassin and friend of Tim Drake. He hadn’t expected his twin to suddenly arrive and tell him that his job was done. And certainly, seeing a plane filled with an uncomfortable looking ‘family’ that requested he join them and get to know Gotham and his birth father, was not on his bingo list.

Danny does his best to let them down gently- and they seem to be accepting that he’s acclimated to this weird little town and will leave him be- when Danny suddenly has to transform into Phantom in front of them to handle a rocket sent by Skulker.

They are less willing to accept his appeal to be left alone after that… Damian is trying to “bond” with him and all the others are trying to “help” in their own way.

Sam and Tucker howl with laughter at Danny’s suddenly very large family- all while secretly working with the Wayne’s to get Danny the fuck away from the Fentons before the scientists do something they can’t undo.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #dc crossover #dp crossover #damian wayne #danny and damian are twins #ehehehe #so many ways for Damian to ‘bond’ with Danny #so many ways for the Wayne’s to try and ‘help’ danny #danny wants to be left alone but Sam and Tucker are excellent double agents #suddenly it’s like the Wayne’s know his favorites and least favorites and for whatever reason #demon twin AU #Danny: I don’t know y’all like that #danny is the wet cat that refuses to accept love until all of a sudden he’s a domestic house cat that gets fed @ the hour & not a min later

7K notes · View notes

hamsterclaw · 9 months ago

Text

You end up being responsible for Jeon Jungkook, who's impulsive, annoying and in the habit of breaking the law. Unfortunately for you, he's also funny and sexy as fuck. There's no way this can end well, can it?

Pairing: Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: Crack, smut, rookie lawyer reader and criminal JK

Rating: 18+

Word count: 11k

Warnings: Sex, swearing, criminal activity, smoking

Present day

‘Who,’ breathes Gracie, your new client, ‘the fuck is that?’

You look in the direction she’s facing, and die inside, as the black custom Skyline glides to a smooth stop on the road, in front of you.

‘Uh, so I’ll call when I hear back about the patents,’ you say hurriedly, before….

Too late.

The passenger door opens, and you hear Gracie gasp audibly as she sees the man in the driver’s seat.

His wavy dark hair almost covers his eyes. He rakes his tattooed hand through his hair casually, his silver piercings gleaming in the light from the streetlamps above you.

You get in before he can say anything, shutting the door firmly behind you.

‘Just drive,’ you say, through gritted teeth.

‘Seatbelt,’ he reminds you, but he’s already pulling away from the curb.

You buckle up and stare out the window so you don’t have to look at his ridiculously pretty face.

‘Nice skirt,’ he says.

‘Don’t talk to me,’ you snap.

‘Fine,’ he says, just to annoy you.

He flicks the music on, and the interior of the car fills with the pulsing synth of the early 90s house that he’s been into lately.

He’s a good driver, you’ll give him that.

By the time he pulls into the underground car park of your building, your head is pounding from the loud music he’s played the entire journey home.

You know from experience that if you complain he’ll just turn it up louder.

‘Did you get into anything when I was with my client?’ you ask, because you have to.

The lying asshole has the audacity to give you an innocent look. It’s surprisingly effective, he was born with the wide eyes and pouty lips required to pull it off.

You remind yourself again that Jeon Jungkook is not to be trusted.

You raise an eyebrow, and wait.

Finally, he says, ‘Nothing.’

You harden your stare.

‘Nothing,’ he insists.

He kills the engine and you both exit the car and head for the lifts.

He lives in the apartment next to yours, and the only reason a rich asshole like him is in your building is because his rich parents have paid for him to stay next to you, as his appointed guardian.

It’s an unconventional arrangement which he’d only agreed to because the alternative was jail time.

You’d only agreed to it because his mother is your boss at the law firm you work at, and it’s not just that you need the job, but you’re also one step away from becoming an associate.

Jungkook holds the lift door open with a booted foot.

‘After you,’ he says.

‘The doors are automatic, you don’t have to hold them open,’ you point out.

You know he knows this.

Anyone who’s ever been in a lift knows it.

Jungkook admires himself in the lift mirrors. You look away, but not before he catches you looking at him.

‘Like what you see?’ he asks, voice velvety.

‘No,’ you say flatly, turning away.

He snickers softly but says nothing else.

You reach your floor and sigh with relief.

Finally.

It’s been a long day, and you can’t wait to go home and recharge in the solitude of your apartment.

You can already feel yourself sinking into the plushness of your new sofa after a hot shower. It’s Thursday, too, so there’s a new episode of your favourite drama being released today, and there’s leftovers in the fridge….

Jeon Jungkook’s annoying voice interrupts your daydream.

‘I have to go out again tonight,’ he tells you.

One stipulation his parents made to your unusual arrangement is that you have to accompany him whenever he leaves the apartment after dark.

‘Why?’ you ask, letting your irritation show in your tone.

‘I said I’d meet some guys,’ he says. He holds his hands up as you glare at him. ‘It’s for business.’

You’ve reached your door. You think longingly of your sofa and your drama, and stifle a sigh.

‘I just need a shower and to eat before we go,’ you say, resigned.

‘Fine. I’ll knock in an hour, ok?’ he says.

You don’t bother to respond.

By the time he knocks at your door, you’re out of your work clothes and in sweats and a hoodie.

At his surprised look you raise your eyebrows at him.

‘Am I underdressed for your business meeting?’ you ask, like you care.

He rolls his eyes. ‘I just thought you only wore business pantsuits,’ he replies, smiling sweetly at you.

Your stomach growls. You’d spent too long in the shower and hadn’t had a chance to eat. It’d been worth it.

You ignore it and lock your apartment door.

‘I’m ready.’

Jungkook whistles the tune from a newish pop song as you head for the lifts.

He’s annoyingly melodic, and now the infectious tune’s in your head.

You focus on not humming along as you follow him to his car and get in the passenger seat.

‘Seatbelt,’ he says, and you roll your eyes.

‘Yes, mum.’

‘You look and act like you’re 14,’ Jungkook retorts, navigating out the car park.

‘Where are we going?’ you ask, looking out the window, ignoring his comment.

‘Verve,’ he replies, casual.

You sit up. ‘What?’

Verve is the newest, hottest restaurant in town. It opened a month ago, and it’s still impossible to get a table.

‘I can’t go there dressed like this!’

Jungkook shrugs. ‘No one asked you to get into your PJs.’

You’re livid. ‘You should have told me.’

Jungkook shrugs again. ‘You didn’t ask specifically.’

You have to sit on your hands to stop yourself from punching his smug, pretty face. You catch sight of yourself in the rearview mirror and whip the towelling headband you use when you wash your face off your head.

You seethe silently in the passenger seat until Jungkook turns to you.

‘Stop breathing so angrily.’

‘I’m sorry my essential functions are expressing unacceptable emotions to you,’ you gripe.

‘That’s not normal breathing,’ Jungkook argues.

There’s a few beats of silence, then Jungkook prods your side.

‘Don’t hold your breath either.’

You suck in an irritated breath and try to moderate your tone. ‘In the future I’d appreciate some notice if we’re going anywhere with a dress code,’ you tell Jungkook.

‘Fine,’ Jungkook agrees. ‘I like short skirts, if I may express a preference.’

‘You. May. Not.’ You say, clipped.

He just laughs to himself as he reverses effortlessly into a slot on the street outside the restaurant.

‘These guys,’ he starts, then breaks off. ‘Are you wearing a bra?’

You cross your arms across your chest defensively. ‘Shut up.’

‘Your tits look great,’ Jungkook says.

‘Shut up!’

Jungkook opens the door to Verve, and you wait nervously next to him.

You can feel eyes on you, as soft and snuggly as your hoodie and sweats are, they make you stand out in all the wrong ways in this place full of people in discreet labels.

You shuffle self-consciously as the host arrives and gives you a none-too-subtle once-over.

He opens his mouth, and Jungkook says, ‘We have a reservation at eight, Frederic said he’d block out the terrace for us.’

The whole demeanour of the host changes at Jungkook’s words.

‘Of course. You must be Mr Jeon.’

You find yourself being ushered through the restaurant and up a back staircase to a huge terrace with heat lamps, a glass ceiling and Koi pond in the centre of the terrace.

‘What the fuck,’ you mutter.

Jungkook gives you his greasiest smile, and you glower at him in response.

The two men he’s here to meet are dressed like mafia consiglieres, and they, like the host, look at you doubtfully as you approach with Jungkook.

‘My lawyer,’ Jungkook says, not bothering to introduce you by name or with any accuracy.

You’re a lawyer, but not his lawyer, and you’re glad for it because you have no obligation to keep any of his assholery confidential.

The mafia guys eye you with renewed respect, and you keep quiet.

‘Before we start, can we order? My lawyer here skipped dinner,’ Jungkook says.

You’re so surprised at his thoughtful gesture you stare at him.

He ignores you, already looking through the tablet one of the men has handed him.

***

The buzzing of your phone is insistent and pervasive, pulling you further and further out of the warm cocoon of the best sleep you’ve had in a while.

You’re floating on clouds, weightless and boneless and warm and in the distance you can see an angel, smiling at you. He’s got dark hair, a physique sculpted by Italian masters, and a tattoo sleeve…

What the fuck!

You bolt upright and your phone falls off your pillow, clattering onto the floor.

You pick it up and accidentally answer, only to be greeted by the grinning ass face of one Jeon Jungkook.

It’s a video call, which means….

He can see you!

With a horrified yelp you toss the phone onto your bed.

‘I’ve already seen everything,’ he assures you, muffled on account of your phone being face down in your sheets. ‘Now you’re awake, can I come over?’

‘What do you want, Jeon Jungkook?’ you snap, pulling your covers up to your neck.

‘I want your opinion on something,’ he says.

‘What’s the magic word?’ you ask.

‘I’ll tell my mum you’re associate material….’

‘Please, don’t act like I don’t deserve that position off my own back,’ you reply, bored.

‘I’ll let you watch me work out shirtless at the gym,’ he offers.

‘Like you’re going to be able to resist posting a gym selfie later,’ you scoff.

‘Please,’ he says.

You sigh. ‘Fine. Give me five minutes to brush my teeth.’

‘Don’t feel you need to put anything on, over that silky pink thing you’re wearing,’ Jungkook tells you.

You hang up without taking the bait.

When he knocks at your door, you give him an assessing look.

‘Does helping you involve anything illegal?’ you ask.

‘I have a date. You’re a woman,’ Jungkook says, adding ‘almost’ under his breath.

You scowl at him. ‘Go on, keep insulting me, that’ll make me want to help you more.’

He holds out a mug. ‘I made you coffee.’

You look suspiciously at it. ‘Did you roofie this?’

Jungkook scoffs. ‘Please why wouldn’t I want you to remember the best sexual experience you’ll ever have.’

‘Get out of my apartment.’

‘No, please,’ he pleads, holding up his hands in surrender. ‘I need your advice on which set to wear.’

You realise he’s also holding a garment bag.

‘Fine,’ you say, waving a hand.

You sip your coffee. It’s surprisingly good, but you nearly choke on it when Jungkook slips his shirt over his head and starts unbuttoning his jeans.

‘Wait!’ you shriek. ‘What are you doing?’

He looks down at his beautiful naked torso, feigning confusion. You know he’s faking because of the smug smirk on his face.

‘I need to try them on so you know what they look like on me,’ he says, innocent.

‘There are two bedrooms in this apartment,’ you say, stern. ‘Use one of them to change. Do not come out until you are fully dressed.’

Jungkook pouts but still flexes a little as he struts past you. You pretend not to notice how his back muscles taper into his slender waist.

As he gets changed, you consider what you might want for breakfast. It’s Saturday, so the brunch place down the corner opens earlier.

Shit! Saturday?

Jungkook mistakes the expression on your face as a reaction to his outfit rather than your own internal screaming.

‘Shit. I knew it. Too much?’ he asks, turning around so you can see how the rips running up the backs of his legs in the jeans he’s wearing go all the way up to the edges of his boxer briefs.

‘No, you look like a sexy whore,’ you say absently, scrolling your calendar.

You look up to see him frowning at you.

‘And yet, you’re not looking,’ he complains.

‘I have a date tonight too,’ you tell him.

He looks so surprised you toss a throw cushion at him.

‘Are you lying because you don’t want me to think you’re a sad workaholic who’s been chronically single since university?’ he asks, with such accuracy you throw another throw cushion at him.

You wonder if that’s why they’re called throw cushions.

‘It’s a blind date,’ you say. ‘My friend Hyunjin set it up. Also I don’t give a shit what you think, at least he’s not an ex-con.’

Jungkook looks hurt. ‘I’m not an ex-con either,’ he points out.

Which reminds you of your arrangement.

‘We can’t both go on dates tonight,’ you say. ‘I’ll cancel.’

‘What, so you can blame me for being single forever? No way. I’ll take care of it. Where’s your date?’

Jungkook pulls his phone out of the pocket of his almost jeans.

You tell him the name of the restaurant.

‘I’ll have my date there too,’ Jungkook decides. He flashes you a smarmy grin that makes you throw your last cushion at him.

He’s already heading out the door. ‘Pick you up later and we can go together,’ he says.

Your door closes behind him, then opens again almost immediately.

‘By the way,’ he says, holding up a pair of your silk panties. ‘I’m borrowing these.’

You fumble for something else to throw at him but he’s already closed the door again.

His infuriating laughter echoes in your ears long after he’s gone.

***

Jungkook’s taunts sound in your head as you get ready for your date.

You gaze in the mirror at your reflection critically.

Is your dress too short? Are your shoulders weird looking? And what the hell is happening with your hair?

You remind yourself that you can’t go another year of being single at your family’s annual get-together. You can already hear your Auntie Rina’s probing questions, your cousin Binna’s smug comments, your brother Jin’s increasingly acidic barbs to anyone who tries to criticise you.

Besides, it’d be nice to meet someone who’d care if you were sick or who’d come over to chase away a spider if it took up residence in your bathtub.

You purse your lips for a coat of lip tint and put the wand back just in time before the familiar, side-of-fist banging on your door starts.

At least he’s consistent, you think ruefully to yourself as you yell, ‘Coming, keep all your clothes on!’

You pull on your coat and belt it snugly as you slip your shoes on.

You nearly get Jeon Jungkook’s fist in your face as you yank open the door.

You duck at the same time he startles and says ‘Shit, sorry!’

‘It’s fine,’ you say, hoisting your bag on your shoulder.

You turn to go and realise he’s still standing by your door, staring at you.

You’re conscious of your heels and bare legs and that you’re wearing more makeup than usual.

‘Spare me whatever is about to come out of your mouth,’ you say, spiky.

You’re honestly one rude comment away from going back into your apartment and your cosy couch. You still haven’t caught up on your drama.

You head for the lifts without looking to see if he’s following.

***

Jungkook holds the door open for you at the restaurant your blind date picked.

‘Do you have a reservation?’ asks the hostess.

You give her your date’s name and she beams at you. ‘Right over here, follow me.’

She leads you to a table where a man is already sitting waiting.

He stands as you approach, and holds his hand out. ‘Jang Junwoo,’ he says.

You introduce yourself and notice he’s looking awkwardly over your shoulder.

You realise Jungkook’s still standing behind you.

‘Can I get you something, Jungkook?’ you ask, teeth gritted.

‘Nope,’ he says, cheerfully. ‘I’m just waiting for you to move so I can take my seat.’

You realise with horror that he’s indicating the table right next to yours in this cosy restaurant.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ you say.

Jungkook winks at you. ‘I hear the steak’s good.’

***

Jang Junwoo is kind of pretentious, you think, but then again a lot of these finance bros are. He spent a minute more than necessary pontificating over the wine’s bouquet, but he’s been polite enough to the waitress, and he has asked you a few questions about yourself.

Looks wise, he’s kind of your type, you think. He’s clean cut, tall and with a lean physique set off by his well-fitted shirt. He’s not got any visible tattoos or piercings, which is fine with you.

You’re not into that at all.

Beside you, Jungkook’s date, a petite bottle blonde in a low-cut dress with the best natural-looking cleavage you’ve seen laughs at one of his jokes.

She’s been laughing a lot, which is funny, because Jungkook’s really not that funny at all.

You realise Junwoo’s asked you a question.

‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise. ‘I missed what you said.’

‘He asked if you like to work out,’ Jungkook supplies helpfully from beside you, barely two feet away.

He leans forward, and in a stage whisper, tells Junwoo, ‘I’ve never seen her in our gym.’

‘Stop eavesdropping on my date,’ you hiss.

Jungkook continues, ‘But she looks good in athleisure.’

He smiles like he’s just helped you, and you turn pointedly away.

‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise again to Junwoo. ‘I’m his court appointed guardian. It was this arrangement or prison, wasn’t it, Jungkook?’

Instead of looking put off, Jungkook’s date looks even more intrigued.

Junwoo, bemused, says, ‘Don’t worry about it. Should we get dessert?’

You split up with Jungkook after dinner when Junwoo suggests a nightcap at a bar nearby.

Jungkook assures you he’ll go straight home.

Looking at the way he and his date are draped over each other, you don’t doubt it. Thankfully, your apartment building was built pre-war and the walls are decent quality.

Junwoo ushers you into the bar, and, alone together with him for the first time all night, you feel your self-consciousness return.

You catch him looking at your thigh where your skirt’s ridden up and when he sees you’ve noticed, he smiles smoothly like it’s no big deal.

He orders another bottle of wine and you let him drink most of it because your tolerance is low.

His tendency towards pretentiousness is more pronounced when he’s tipsy, and it’s when he’s telling you about how you should try to experience genuine Lyonnaise cuisine that you decide you’ve had enough for now.

‘I should go,’ you say, smiling at him. ‘Thank you for a lovely evening.’

‘I’ll escort you home,’ he says. ‘It’s late.’

He pulls on his coat and offers his arm, and you take it because you’re three blocks away from home and you can walk it in under ten minutes.

When you reach your door, you turn and hold out your hand.

‘Thanks again, Junwoo, it was really kind of you to walk me home.’

He takes your hand and shakes, but doesn’t let go.

‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’ he asks.

‘Not tonight,’ you say firmly, trying to pull your hand away.

‘I paid for dinner, and drinks,’ he points out, like that’s going to convince you.

‘You insisted,’ you counter. ‘Anyway, good night.’

He’s about to say something else but you don’t hear it because the lift dings and the doors slide open, and Jungkook steps out.

His shirt is half undone, and there’s a big-ass hickey on his neck, but you’ve never been so glad to see him.

‘Ah Jungkook,’ you say. ‘Did you have a good night?’

Jungkook pauses in front of you and Junwoo, eyeing the way your hands are still entwined.

‘Yeah, I did. How about you?’ he asks.

‘We’re doing great, bro,’ Junwoo says.

‘Yeah?’ Jungkook asks, eyes on you.

You swallow your pride. ‘Not great, JK.’

‘Yeah,’ Jungkook agrees. He makes eye contact with Junwoo. ‘You should get going, bro.’

Junwoo’s hand tightens around yours. ‘Yeah, bro?’

Jungkook shrugs. ‘You know why she’s my court appointed guardian? I’m not going back to Cheonan.’

At the mention of the notorious maximum security prison, Junwoo’s eyebrows rise.

He squeezes your hand again, hard, then lets you go.

Jungkook stares at him the whole way as he leaves.

As soon as the lift doors close behind Junwoo, you sigh and slump against your door.

‘Thanks, Jungkook.’

‘No worries,’ Jungkook says. He runs a hand through his dishevelled hair. ‘Guess my date went better than yours, huh?’

‘I shouldn’t have let that asshole pay. I knew he’d take it as an invitation,’ you say, ruefully.

Jungkook looks at you. ‘Is that what he said? What an asshole. Jangmi told me not to expect anything.’

You look pointedly at the hickey on his neck, and he laughs but doesn’t say anything else.

You fish your keys out of your bag. ‘Anyway, thanks. Your timing was pretty good.’

‘Yeah I waited in the car outside for you and saw you guys arrive,’ Jungkook says.

You stare at him. ‘What?’

‘Wanted to make sure you got home ok,’ Jungkook says, yawning.

He’s already heading to his own apartment.

‘Hey,’ you call. ‘I didn’t know you were in Cheonan.’

Jungkook laughs. ‘Youth detention centre, not the prison. Spent four months there when I was 14.’

He’s reached his own door.

‘Good night, Y/N. You looked really pretty tonight.’

He smiles at you crookedly and goes inside.

***

Six months earlier

You have no idea why you’ve been summoned to Jeon Mido’s office, and waiting outside in her secretary’s workspace isn’t helping your nerves.

You’ve been working for Albion for two years, and in that time you’ve never met her.

Why would you?

She’s one of the founding partners of Albion, the biggest law firm in the city, and you’re a relative newbie hired straight out of law school two years ago.

You’ve never had cause to venture beyond the tenth floor of this Albion-owned building, and now you’re in the penthouse.

The doors open, and Jeon Mido steps out.

‘Ms L/N,’ she says. ‘Please, come in.’

You take a seat in front of her sleek modern desk and wait.

‘Park Sejun tells me you worked extremely hard on your last case,’ she says, gazing at you. There’s a shrewdness in her eyes that reminds you that she built this law firm from nothing, despite her soft demeanour.

‘Thank you,’ you say.

‘You did an excellent job.’

You thank her again, wondering where she’s going with this. Is she about to dismiss you? Surely Park Sejun could have done that for her.

You haven’t done anything to warrant a promotion.

‘I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here,’ Jeon Mido says.

She sets her hands on her desk gracefully.

‘I heard what you said about the defendant on your last case. He has a record, he’s been in and out of trouble since he was a teenager. Our client was the plaintiff and you did enough to ensure the win but you didn’t go for the jugular like some of your colleagues would have.’

You get a sinking feeling. Is this why you’re being fired? Because you didn’t completely annihilate your opponent?

She seems to be waiting for a response, so you compose your thoughts.

‘I knew we had enough to win,’ you say carefully. ‘I didn’t want to waste my efforts completely destroying the defendant’s credibility when his only mistake was that he relied on his staff instead of verifying things for himself.’

‘That’s not what you said, though,’ she prompts.

You think frantically but can’t remember anything you said that would have stood out, particularly.

You sigh. If you’re going to get fired, you might as well come clean.

‘My brother Jin got in trouble when we were teenagers,’ you say. ‘He got mixed up with a gang and he was too naive to get out before the gang leader got busted.’

You’ll spare her the details. ‘Anyway, he’s got a criminal record now, and because of it he can’t get a ‘respectable’ job. He couldn’t be a lawyer like me and he’d be a hell of a lot better, if I’m being honest.’

You shrug. ‘He made a mistake but he’s still the best person I know. I guess the defendant reminded me of him.’

Jeon Mido’s looking closely at you, but hasn’t said anything.

‘Thank you for hiring me,’ you say. ‘If you want my resignation —-‘

‘You’re mistaken,’ Jeon Mido says, finally. ‘I don’t want to dismiss you. I wanted to ask for your help.’

Which was how you ended up in a coffee shop with Jeon Mido, waiting nervously to meet her son.

Jeon Jungkook.

She’d filled you in on the details. He was her younger son, and he’d been in and out of trouble with the law since his teenage years for various things. Fighting, stealing cars, and even, hilariously, once for posing as a valet at a high society event and parking all the cars at the foot of Mount Samo for the illegal drag racers to take their pick.

After his most recent infraction she and her husband had sat down with Jungkook and given him an ultimatum to clean up his act or be cut off from his family’s fortune.

You were to be an additional factor to tip the scales in his favour.

Her proposition that you be Jungkook’s unofficial guardian and try to keep him out of trouble had sounded ludicrous at first, you were barely responsible enough to look after yourself. You certainly weren’t responsible enough to become a glorified babysitter to a grown man with a history of getting his own way.

The only reason you hadn’t disagreed to this insane-sounding plan outright was that Jeon Mido had built the very building you worked in, from the ground up, off her own intelligence, strength and force of will, at a time when successful self-made women in South Korea were virtually unheard of.

Additionally, Jungkook had agreed to meet you so he must be somewhat willing to comply with his parents’ ultimatum.

You’d been expecting a degree of charm and good looks in her son, Jeon Mido was an attractive woman, but you still had to stop yourself from staring when Jeon Jungkook arrived.

Tall, broad-shouldered and built like an athlete, he’d smiled at you and offered his hand, and you’d shook it praying your own weren’t clammy with nervousness.

He was so good looking he made you want to throw up.

If this was what a life of crime made Jeon Jungkook look like, it certainly suited him.

He flicked his tongue out over his lip ring, dark eyes on you, and you wondered what that tongue would feel like on your skin.

Fuck.

You were fucked from the moment you saw him, and it was only much later that you realised how bad the damage was.

It’d started off innocently enough. He’d moved into the apartment next to yours.

You’d hung out together a bit to get to know each other, and that first week had been fine.

Then he’d said, casually, one evening, that he was popping out for a cigarette, and he’d be back in fifteen minutes.

It was three frantic days before you found him, in some seedy pool hall, drunk and blazed with a new tattoo and the keys to a Maserati he didn’t own in his front jeans pocket.

He’d made you fish the keys out yourself, and he’d giggled like a schoolgirl the entire time.

After that, you’d been more insistent about sticking to the stipulations his parents had laid out, and had accompanied him everytime he left the apartment after dark.

You’d realised what a mistake that was when he offered to buy you brunch and paid all in unmarked bills out of a duffel bag filled with stacks of cash.

Jeon Jungkook didn’t confine his criminal activity to night times.

Fuck that shit.

Then there was that time he’d offered to pick you up from work in a new car you’d assumed was his parents’. The penny had only dropped when the police sirens had sounded behind you and you’d asked, nervously, if he should pull over.

Jungkook had taken one look in the rearview mirror, and said, dismissively, ‘It’s only one patrol car. I can lose them, easily.’

He’d proceeded to do just that in a high-speed car chase in a stolen car that spanned the busiest road in the city.

It’s the first and only time you’ve been on the seven o’clock news.

On the plus, you’d found out that he really was as good a driver as he’d claimed.

You’d gone to see Jeon Mido in her office as soon as your legs stopped feeling like jelly, ready to apologise and say you weren’t able to do the job you’d agreed to do.

To your surprise, she’d just encouraged you to carry on.

For his part, Jungkook’s always treated you with an irreverent kind of tolerance. He’s annoying as hell and you’ve learned not to trust most of what he says, but for all his sexual innuendo around you, he’s never once crossed the line you’d drawn in the sand at the beginning.

He’s danced along it a few times, though.

By the time you’re six months into your year-long arrangement, you’ve reached an uneasy stalemate with Jungkook.

Sometimes, you almost like the guy.

Annoyingly, he’s also stayed as hot as the day you met him.

***

Present day

You haven’t seen Jungkook in a few days, so you text him to check on him.

You’re already trying to remember how to get to the strip club you found him in the last time he went missing when he texts back.

Jungkook: I’m dying

He’s fucked with you enough times that you’re not all that concerned yet.

Y/N: Yeah? How?

Jungkook: The plague

You consider this as you plate your lunch. You lift a forkful of greens to your lips, then hesitate, and sigh.

Five minutes later you’re knocking at his door.

He answers so quickly you wonder if he was waiting on the other side of it.

He does look like hell, to be fair.

His nose and eyes are red, and he looks pale under his golden tan. He’s wrapped up in a duvet from chin to feet.

‘I’m dying,’ he tells you, melodramatic as fuck.

‘Do you have a cold.’

‘It’s way worse than a cold,’ he insists.

You shake your head, but he does look worse than you’ve ever seen him.

You sigh. ‘When did you last eat?’

Jungkook’s already looking at you so hopefully you haven’t the heart to say anything as you turn back around and let him into your apartment.

‘Try not to infect me,’ you tell him, as you lay a place setting in front of him at your kitchen island.

Jungkook replies, ‘I got my regular tests done last week, all negative.’

You look at him in disgust. ‘With your cold, asshole.’

He leers at you, but it lacks his usual panache.

You serve out the food and sit down opposite him to eat.

‘I always use condoms, anyway,’ he says, after a moment. He winks at you, but it’s still half-hearted.

You pass him a glass of water.

‘Drop the sex pest act for a few minutes,’ you advise him, helpfully. ‘No one’s fucking anyone in the state you’re in, anyway.’

He looks at you, and you can almost see him clicking through the repertoire of innuendoes he has in his head.

Finally, he says, ‘Thanks for this. It’s delicious.’

You tilt your head, pretending to be confused.

‘Did you just say something without sexual connotations, Jeon Jungkook?’

His smile is crooked.

‘Don’t worry, I’m still thinking sexual things about you in my head,’ he assures you.

You laugh. ‘Shut up and eat.’

***

Jungkook starts to look a bit less like death warmed over after he’s eaten, but the clingy asshole’s parked himself on your sofa and shows no sign of moving.

You shrug and put on the TV. At least if he’s with you, there’s less chance of him being in that strip club where there’s no parking outside. What a ballache that had been.

You put on the latest episode of your drama and he perks up.

‘I haven’t seen this episode yet,’ he tells you.

His duvet’s slipped lower, and you’ve yet to see anything but his skin.

‘Please tell me you’re dressed under there,’ you say, warningly.

‘Yeah but I can take it all off,’ Jungkook offers.

You don’t dignify that with a response, just pass him some flu meds and a bottle of kombucha and settle in to watch the show.

After the episode ends he still shows no sign of moving, so you put on a movie and pass him some snacks.

By the time the movie ends it’s dark, and when he asks you what you want for dinner you let him order takeout for both of you.

You eat sitting alongside each other on the couch as the next movie plays.

After a while you realise he’s fallen asleep, and that this is the most male company you’ve had in a while, and that you don’t hate it.

You don’t hate him.

In fact, in the dim light from the TV and with his mouth closed and his hair rumpled over his relaxed sleeping face, he looks…..

Tempting.

Like the boyfriend you could have if you could ever get over yourself enough to date someone seriously.

For some reason that makes you feel a little sad.

That you’re so starved for male company you’re longing after your neighbour who’s only hanging out with you because you’ve made an arrangement with his parents.

If you’re being honest with yourself, he’d probably have never shown an interest in you otherwise.

You pull the duvet over his shoulder, switch off the TV and top up his water and meds before heading to bed.

***

The banging on your door startles you and your elbow jostles the glass on the edge of your kitchen counter. It drops to the floor and shatters, and you think dryly that it’s a metaphor for how close you are to the edge of killing Jeon fucking Jungkook.

You yank open the door with a scowl.

‘Yes, Jeon Jungkook?’

He looks a little edgy himself. ‘I want to show you something.’

‘Is it your dick?’ you ask, tiredly, letting him in.

‘Always, but it’s something different today.’

You glance at the clock. It’s six in the evening.

‘Watch out,’ you say, as he passes the kitchen. ‘I dropped a glass.’

He doesn’t even blink.

There’s a nervous energy about him today, he looks like he’s buzzing out of his skin.

You follow him warily to the window that overlooks the street behind your building.

‘Are we looking out for the police?’ you ask, in a dramatic whisper.

He gives you a half-smile. ‘There were two plainclothes cops staking out the place all of last week. I think they’re dealing out of apartment 4B.’

You stare at him. ‘Are you serious?’

He scoffs. ‘How do you not notice these things?’

‘I never really have to worry about the police coming for me,’ you say, straightfaced.

‘Sucks to be you,’ he says, without his usual conviction.

He reaches down towards his jeans and your scowl returns. ‘Jungkook, I really don’t want to see your dick.’

‘Stop lying,’ he says, but what he takes out is a small black rectangular plastic object.

It’s about the size of half of his outstretched palm.

You wonder where he’s going with this.

He says, ‘Look.’

You both watch as a man in a business suit pulls up to a parking spot on the street, gets out and locks his car. The headlights flash, twice.

He heads into the apartment building opposite yours.

As soon as he’s out of sight, Jungkook hands you the tiny black rectangle.

‘Press the button.’

You press the small grey button, and to your surprise, the car headlights flash again.

The car’s unlocked.

‘What the—-‘

‘It’s a car key cloning device,’ Jungkook says.

He takes it back from you.

‘All I have to do is press it at the same time as the person locking the car presses their own key, and it clones the signal.’

He says, with more than a hint of wistfulness, ‘I could steal any car on this street.’

You’re shaking your head. ‘Where did you get this?’

‘I made it,’ he tells you. ‘I didn’t invent the tech, my friend did, but I made this.’

His eyes meet yours.

‘Can you keep it?’

His words hang in the air between you.

He mistakes your silence for hesitance.

‘I just — ‘

He clears his throat and starts again. There’s pleading in his voice, a wild kind of spark in his eyes.

‘Can you keep it? I don’t want it to be this easy to steal a car tonight.’

You swallow past the lump in your throat. He’s never asked for your help like this before.

He usually goes ahead with whatever impulse he has and you’re stuck playing catch up.

Today, he’s given you a head start.

You take the device from him and stick it in your bra.

‘Don’t try to seduce me to get it back,’ you warn.

He’s already eyeing up your tits.

He clears his throat again.

‘Actually, I’m surprised you managed to fit it in there. Are you on your period? Your tits look huge.’

As usual, you don’t deign to respond.

‘I was going to make dinner,’ you say. ‘Do you want some?’

‘You can cook me dinner,’ he agrees, like he’s doing you a favour.

‘But wait. Let me clean up that glass first,’ he says.

‘It’s fine,’ you say.

He stops you. ‘Nah. Look at your hands.’

You hold a hand out, palm up, and he traces a callused finger along your life line.

Warmth unfurls along your skin, following the path of his finger.

You look up to see him looking at you, heat in his eyes.

Your heart pounds, slow, and his tongue flicks along his lower lip.

When he speaks, his voice has dropped, low.

‘You’ve probably never even changed the oil in your car,’ he says, but he sounds affectionate, almost.

‘I wouldn’t want you to cut yourself.’

He smiles, and lets go of your hand.

Your skin feels like it’s crackling with electricity from his touch, and god help you, you want more.

You don’t trust yourself to speak.

Jungkook says, very quietly, ‘You’re doing something for me, let me do this for you.’

Your eyes meet again, and you find your voice.

‘The oven needs a clean, too, if you’re offering.’

He laughs, and just like that, whatever that moment was, ends.

‘I’ll clean your oven,’ he says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. ‘Put a bun in it too.’

‘You’re disgusting,’ you complain, trying to punch him, but he’s already too far away.

***

You’re balancing on the back of the couch on your tip toes, trying to reach the lamp shade so you can change the blown lightbulb in your hanging lights, when the now familiar banging starts on your door.

You turn too quickly, lose your balance and fall headlong onto the floor.

The resulting crash against the parquet flooring is all the louder because Jungkook’s stopped banging on your door.

You roll onto your back, groaning a little as the wrist you held out to protect your face flares with pain.

Jungkook’s started banging again, and your phone, out of reach on the coffee table, starts ringing.

You can just about make out his name on the screen, and the ridiculous selfie he took of himself shirtless that he put in as his profile on your phone.

All the racket is enough to make you sit up and hobble to the door.

‘Shit, are you ok? I heard a crash,’ says Jungkook, wide-eyed.

‘I’m not good with blood,’ he warns, but he’s checking you over gently anyway.

‘What was so urgent you needed to bang on my door?’ you ask, grumpy.

He presses your sore wrist, gently, and you wince.

‘I got pizza and wanted to know if you wanted some,’ he says. He ushers you to your couch.

‘I’m getting ice,’ he calls over his shoulder.

‘You could have texted to ask if I wanted pizza,’ you call after him.

He emerges with a bag of frozen peas you didn’t know you had.

‘But then I wouldn’t get to see your face,’ he protests. ‘Also, you never answer my video calls, not since I saw you in your underwear that time.’

You don’t bother correcting him.

He wraps the peas in a towel and passes the bundle to you.

‘Your wrist looks bad, you should get it checked out,’ he advises.

You grimace. ‘I have a case coming up,’ you tell him.

‘Just tell them it was a sex injury,’ Jungkook suggests, helpfully. He offers you a hand to get up. ‘Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital to get checked out.’

‘Fine,’ you say. ‘Grab the pizza.’

***

You’re waiting to see the doctor with Jungkook and trying to ignore the fact that he’s pulled a burner phone out of his back pocket.

He glances around furtively and you’re craning your neck to look at the screen when your name is called.

The doctor who’s said your name looks at Jungkook.

‘Mr Jeon,’ she says. ‘What is it this time? Another broken metacarpal from fighting?’

Jungkook’s face creases into a smile and you can almost hear the adoring sighing of men and women around the room.

‘Dr Lim,’ he says. ‘You know I don’t break my hand anymore since I started winning all the time.’

You gag at his corniness, but Dr Lim just smiles back.

‘Well, you’re always welcome to get checked out for any injuries,’ she says. ‘You have my number.’

‘Did you save it on your burner?’ you ask loudly, but they both ignore you.

By the time you’ve had an X-ray and been told your wrist is just sprained, not broken, you’ve heard enough of Jungkook’s smarmy flirting that your ears are burning.

‘Yeah, I’m still going to the gym every day,’ you mimic, flexing your bicep as you get into Jungkook’s car. ‘Want to feel?’

Jungkook rolls his eyes. ‘I don’t talk like that.’

You give him your sleaziest grin. ‘Wow you have your name embroidered on your white coat? Amazing!’

Jungkook starts the car. ‘Still don’t talk like that,’ he mutters.

‘Yeah, let me take you for a spin in my Skyline sometime,’ you say, puffing out your chest and deepening your voice.

‘Seatbelt,’ Jungkook says.

When you reach for the seatbelt and wince because you forgot about your wrist, he sighs.

You press back into the seat, startled, as he leans over you to fasten your seatbelt for you.

He pauses with his face directly in front of yours.

He’s so close you can feel his breath on your cheek.

He leans forward and kisses you.

It’s a peck, and over before you know it, but it’s enough to shut you up.

‘Stop being cute,’ he says. ‘Or I’ll kiss you again.’

He throws the car into gear.

‘Besides,’ he adds. ‘The only woman I’ve tried to impress with this car is you.’

You’re staring at him, still trying to process, when he adds, thoughtfully, ‘then again, I haven’t had this car very long….’

***

You’re trying to get your suitcase down from on top of your wardrobe when there’s a blur of movement in the periphery of your vision.

You scream and hightail it off the ladder you’re on.

The spider you saw stops right above the corner of the ceiling where your suitcase is.

You’ve already dialled Jungkook without even thinking about it.

He answers with a lazy, drawled, ‘yo’, but his tone sharpens quickly when he hears your voice and panicked breathing.

‘Jungkook. There’s a spider holding my suitcase hostage,’ you whisper, dread in your voice.

‘Why are you whispering?’ Jungkook asks. You can hear the amusement in his voice, and for once you don’t care that he’s laughing at you.

You fight to regulate your volume. ‘It might hear me and attack,’ you say.

It seems completely reasonable to you.

Jungkook laughs so loudly you have to hold the phone away from your ear.

‘What does he want with your suitcase?’ Jungkook asks, when he’s re-composed himself enough to speak.

He’s definitely laughing at you rather than with you, but you’ll take any amount of taunting if he deals with the spider for you.

‘Please,’ you plead, ‘can you get rid of it.’

Jungkook yawns. ‘Ok. But don’t expect me to put on a shirt.’

A moment later he’s in your apartment, looking up at the ceiling at the spider.

‘Just grab the suitcase please,’ you say. ‘The spider can have this room from now on.’

Jungkook snorts.

He grabs the suitcase and places it next to you, then, before you can work out what he’s going to do, he taps on the wall next to the spider and it runs down to the floor.

You scream and jump into his arms.

He really did come over bare-chested, the asshole, and the sweatpants he’s barely wearing are low on his hips, so it’s a little more indecent than you’d like, but there’s no fucking way you’re sharing the floor with a spider that can run faster than you.

Automatically, like he’s done this a lot, Jungkook’s big hand reaches down to support your ass.

He’s still laughing. ‘Is this like, do you want to see my cat, but it’s a spider instead?’

You ignore his taunts and bury your face in his shoulder.

His laughter fades.

‘Shit. Are you crying? Listen, don’t worry. I’ll get rid of it, ok?’

You’re too scared to look at the floor.

‘You don’t even know where it is now,’ you sob.

‘I know exactly where that fucker is,’ Jungkook assures you.

He’s probably lying but you don’t want to check for yourself.

He deposits you onto the bed and tries to peel your legs off his waist.

‘As much as I want to fuck you, let me deal with this spider first, ok?’

At his words, you loosen your legs from around him and he pats your thigh.

‘Stop crying. Stay here and I’ll get rid of it,’ he promises.

It’s several long minutes and muttered curses later before he returns, a little sweaty but with a glass of water for you.

He hands it to you and brushes your hair back from your face as you drink.

‘I didn’t know you were that scared of spiders,’ he says. His tone is gentler than you’ve ever heard it.

‘They bite,’ you say.

‘They bite—-‘ Jungkook trails off, shaking his head.

Jungkook sits next to you on the bed. ‘I’m sorry I laughed at you.’

‘It’s ok,’ you say. You swipe at your tearstained face. ‘Did you get it?’

‘Promise I did,’ Jungkook says. ‘Cross my heart. That fucker isn’t bothering you again.’

‘Where did you put him?’ you ask. ‘In the bin?’

‘Nah. Chucked him out the window,’ Jungkook says. ‘Fuck Spiderman.’

‘Fuck Spiderman,’ you echo.

‘Listen, if you have a spider problem again just call me, ok? Or you can text if you’re worried the spider’s going to hear you. I’ll take care of it.’

Jungkook grins. ‘I won’t put a shirt on either.’

He leans back onto his forearms, and the way his abs stand out make you feel pretty tingly, you’re not going to lie.

‘I don’t mind you staring,’ he tells you. ‘I know I look good.’

You roll your eyes, but he’s been so decent about helping you that you’ll let him have that.

‘What’s the suitcase for, anyway?’ he asks.

You sigh. ‘It’s my annual family get together this Saturday,’ you tell him. ‘My entire extended family go to this beach house and we have dinner together and hang out. It’s been a thing since I was a kid.’

‘Sounds nice,’ he says, but his tone is incredulous.

‘It is nice,’ you say. You smile a little. ‘My grandma cooks and my brother Jin goes fishing and I have so many little cousins now.’

You get up. ‘Of course, there’s the usual round of relatives asking ‘why aren’t you settled down and having babies?’ And my cousin Binna’s a pain, but it’s only once a year.’

‘It’s too bad Junwoo was such an ass,’ you say. ‘I was hoping if I came with a date this year that it’d take some of the pressure off.’

‘I can help,’ Jungkook says.

‘For the last time, Jungkook,’ you say, ‘we are not having a baby together.’

‘Firstly,’ Jungkook says, ‘our baby would be so good looking. But that’s not what I meant.’

He looks tentative for the first time since you met him.

‘I can go with you, if you want.’

***

Your suitcase is by the door, ready to go.

You’re waiting for Jungkook to come by so you can leave together for your family retreat.

You’re not sure what to expect, if you’re being honest. It had felt like a good idea having Jungkook come with you at the time. After all, with the amount of time you’ve spent together over the last few months, he knows recent you as well as anyone.

He’d promised on pain of death and dismemberment that he would refrain from excessive sexual innuendo in front of your elders, but that was all you’d managed to get out of him.

You’re almost afraid to look at him when he knocks on your door.

You start from his feet, in the boots he’s favoured lately, to jeans with no visible rips that you can see in the front, to his fly which is done completely up, to his belt and then a white wife-beater over which he’s layered a black shirt.

When you get to his face he’s smirking at you.

‘Spent a long time checking out my dick,’ he comments.

‘Just checking your fly was done up,’ you say, semi-truthfully.

He lifts your suitcase for you.

At your expression he says, ‘Don’t worry, you can pay me back by giving me a blow job whilst I’m driving us to the coast.’

‘Sounds dangerous,’ you reply.

‘Jagiya,’ he says, smarmy, ‘Danger is my middle name.’

‘Don’t ever call me that again,’ you threaten.

‘Princess?’ he wonders.

‘Shut up and drive, Jeon Jungkook.’

***

Jungkook’s driving is so steady that you fall asleep and wake only when he stops for petrol.

You look around, disoriented, and see him looking at you through the glass of the rear passenger window.

He opens the door. ‘Want anything from the shop?’

You yawn. ‘No thanks.’

When he gets back in the car, you say, ‘Hey, let me know what I owe you for gas.’

He snorts as he drives out of the petrol station. ‘You know my family owns the biggest manufacturing company in Busan, right?��

You shrug. ‘Money ain’t everything.’

He nods. ‘Yeah, money ain’t everything, if you’re just normal rich. I’m fuck you and all your ancestors rich.’

You say, lightly, ‘I’m never paying my share of takeout again.’

He laughs. ‘That’s what I like about you. You don’t give a shit.’

‘That’s not true,’ you protest. ‘How many people would have chased you across town to track you down when you stole that French ambassador’s diplomatic car?’

He’s quiet.

The road stretches out in front of you.

‘I’m seeing someone, you know,’ he says.

‘What?’ you scoff. ‘Who’s dating you?’

‘Not like that,’ he tells you. He glances at you in the rearview.

‘I don’t want you to have to be a crutch for me forever.’

Now it’s your turn to be quiet.

Since that time when Jungkook came over to hand over his key fob cloning device, he’s dropped various things over at your apartment for various periods of time.

A pen drive.

The keys to his Skyline.

His burner phone.

Once, a black jewelled thong, but you think he was just fucking with you that time.

You cleared a drawer in your hall table for him, and things appear and disappear.

He doesn’t always talk about it, not like that first time.

‘I’m glad you’re working on it,’ you say, sincerely.

You lean back in your seat. ‘You know you can always drop stuff off in the drawer if you need to.’

‘Oh in the drawer?’ he says, feigning surprise. ‘What about your spare room wardrobe? I left weed and maybe a couple of stacks in there.’

‘Fucking hell,’ you grumble, ‘No wonder all my linens smell like a college dorm.’

You’re both smiling.

‘Thanks for helping me out with this,’ you say. ‘I appreciate it.’

‘How come you couldn’t get one of those Yonsei dipshits to take you?’

You roll your eyes. ‘Firstly, you asshole, I went to SNU.’

Jungkook snickers.

‘Secondly, sad as it is, you’re the only man I’ve spent any time with lately.’

‘That’s what I mean,’ he says. ‘You’re hot, you put up with a lot of shit and you have an ass that won’t quit. How come you’re not dating anyone?’

You look out the window. ‘You’re right, I’m such a catch, why am I single?’

Jungkook asks, ‘Are you really bad in bed?’

You’d laugh if the turn of conversation wasn’t so depressing.

‘Yeah. I’m really bad.’

‘I wouldn’t mind if you were a pillow princess with me,’ Jungkook says. You think he means it as a compliment.

You say, just to move the conversation on, ‘Did you bring any snacks?’

‘Yeah,’ Jungkook says. He reaches into the center console and tosses you a pack of corn chips. ‘Please feed me too.’

You spend the rest of the drive placing corn chips into Jeon Jungkook’s filthy but admittedly beautiful mouth.

***

You and Jungkook are one of the first to arrive at the beach house. Your parents and Jin are already there.

You’re worried Jungkook might be nervous about meeting your parents, but he surprises you again.

Once introduced, he chats easily with your dad about cars, and you can tell from your dad’s reactions that he likes Jungkook.

Jin nudges you as you follow your parents and Jungkook into the house.

‘Binna’s going to be all over him,’ he says.

Your cousin is beautiful, sexy and could flirt with a rock.

You shrug. ‘Don’t worry, Jinnie. You’re still the prettiest around.’

Jin says, crossly, ‘I wasn’t worried about that.’

You’re both distracted by the arrival of your cousin and her children.

The minivan pulls up almost to the entrance of the beach house, and your cousin Daeun jumps out.

‘Dasom superglued her hand to Jinah’s face,’ she announces grimly.

She hands you baby Taehyun. ‘Can you watch the baby? I’m taking them to the drugstore to see if they can give us anything to get this shit off.’

‘Mama said a bad word,’ chants Dasom.

‘I’ll drive you,’ volunteers Jin.

He ushers Daeun and the girls into his car.

You look for someone to help.

‘Need a hand?’ Jungkook asks, popping up from behind you.

You huff. ‘Can you sort this car out?’

Jungkook appraises the minivan in silence for a moment.

‘Yeah,’ Jungkook replies, serious. ‘It probably won’t sell for much as it is. I’ll have to take it apart to sell it for parts.’

You glare at him. ‘I meant park it, Jungkook, not sell it on the stolen cars black market.’

Jungkook laughs incredulously. ‘Stolen cars black market? What even is that? Have you learnt nothing from the last year?’

Taehyun, in your arms, giggles along with Jungkook.

You can’t believe you’re being ridiculed simultaneously by both a baby and the grown-ass man you’re babysitting.

Jungkook’s still chuckling to himself as he maneuvres the minivan expertly into the space beside his car.

You can see him through the window, the asshole.

***

Jin hadn’t been wrong about Binna being interested in Jungkook. To be fair, even happily married Daeun had given him a second look.

Even your conservative grandmother had looked past all his visible tattoos and piercings and declared him a good boy.

You’re pretending not to notice as Binna, sitting on the other side of Jungkook at the dinner table, leans into Jungkook’s arm as she reaches for the green beans.

Your Auntie Rina fixes you with a look.

‘I’m so glad you finally found a man,’ she says. ‘We were so worried you’d be single forever.’

Beside you, Jungkook stiffens.

‘I wasn’t worried,’ says your mother from opposite Jungkook. ‘Better no man than the wrong man.’

‘It’s true,’ sniffs Auntie Rina. ‘Who was that awful boyfriend of yours who kept asking if you really wanted more helpings? As though there’s anything wrong with your weight…’

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. She isn’t saying anything she hasn’t said before, to be fair.

Jungkook, beside you, nudges his full glass of soju towards you.

‘Is your car the 2019 model outside?’ he asks your aunt. ‘I know a man who can fix it for you.’

‘Fix it?’ Auntie Rina asks.

‘Yeah. Looks like it has a flat tire,’ Jungkook says, wide-eyed, all innocence.

Your eyes meet his, and you choke back a laugh.

As soon as the conversation moves on you turn to Jungkook. ‘Does it really have a flat tire?’ you ask, under your breath.

Jungkook leans so close his lips brush your ear, making your skin prickle.

‘I’ll make sure it does,’ he promises.

After dinner, you excuse yourself to get some air and find Jungkook sitting on the steps leading down to the sand, behind the house smoking a cigarette.

You sit next to him.

‘Thank you,’ you tell him. ‘I hope this isn’t too awful.’

He just smiles, exhales.

‘I’m enjoying it,’ he says simply.

There’s a breeze blowing in from the sea, ruffling his hair.

He’s so pretty like this you’d take a picture if you weren’t worried he’d never let you hear the end of it.

Jungkook reaches out, curls a finger in a lock of your hair.

He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t get a chance to.

You lean forward, close your eyes and kiss him.

It’s short and it’s lovely.

You start to pull away, but he cups the side of your face and kisses you back.

His lips are soft, and he kisses you slow, like he wants to learn the shape of your lips with his own.

He hums, deep in his chest, as his lips meet yours.

For all the crass sexual comments he’s made to you over the last year, Jeon Jungkook’s kisses are undemanding, sweet.

When he pulls away, you’re both breathless.

His cigarette glows on the step next to him, forgotten.

‘I knew I’d like kissing you,’ he tells you.

You look down at his hand, somehow entwined with yours.

‘Are you holding my hand?’ you ask.

‘Yeah. You’re a little sweaty but I don’t mind,’ he tells you.

He laughs when you try to pull away.

‘Do you want to come to my room?’ you ask.

He hesitates.

‘I’d like to, but you know, I’m really good at fucking, are you going to be able to keep your voice down?’

‘Shut up, I’ve changed my mind,’ you say, getting up.

He tugs you back down. ‘Hey.’

He waits until you’re looking at him.

‘If you really want me there, I’d love to go to your room,’ he tells you.

For once, he sounds completely serious.

‘Yeah. Come.’

***

You’d been a bit worried it might be awkward, but true to form, Jungkook jumps into your bed and pats the covers like he’s the one inviting you into your own bed.

‘It’s my bed,’ you grumble, but he just laughs.

He kisses you again, his mouth warm over yours. He tastes like the soju he’d been drinking, and he hums when you part your lips to taste more of him.

His tongue licks into your mouth, and when you run your hands over his shoulders he slips his shirt over his head.

He stops you when your hands go to the hem of your top to do the same.

‘Can I?’ he asks.

You nod, and raise your arms to help.

‘Fuck,’ he murmurs. He’s staring at your breasts. ‘I’m going to need to cum on your tits as my last dying wish.’

‘Jeon Jungkook, shut the fuck up.’

‘Screaming my name already,’ he teases, but he starts kissing down the curve of your neck and the whine that falls from your lips is involuntary.

He hums approvingly as your arms tighten around his shoulders.

He dips his head between your breasts and then nips over the curve of your left breast.

He reaches around your back to unhook your bra, waits until you nod to undo it.

‘Pretty,’ he says, then he’s sucking a hickey into your skin, laving with his tongue when you whine in protest.

He’s hard. You can feel him even through the layers of clothing as he grinds his hips on yours.

You tuck the tips of your fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tug. He kisses you again, then pushes up onto his knees on your bed.

He unbuttons, slips his jeans down, and holy fuck, it’s not like you haven’t seen him in his boxer briefs before, but it’s a whole different ball game when he’s looking down at you, heat in his eyes and his dick so hard your mouth waters at the sight of it.

No pun intended.

Jungkook pushes your hands away when they go to your own waistband.

‘Let me do it,’ he says.

He tugs your jeans down over your ass and thighs.

‘Fuck,’ he breathes. ‘These silky panties look even better on you.’

You press a hand over his open mouth.

‘Shut up and fuck me,’ you say.

You trail your hand over the length of him in his briefs, and then he’s moving fast, fumbling with his jeans.

He pulls out a strip of condoms and catches your eye.

You giggle at how ridiculous he looks, and a moment later, he’s laughing too.

‘How many times —‘

You’re cut off by his mouth on yours.

‘Many. I’ll fuck you as many times as you want,’ he tells you, breath hot on your cheek.

He nudges your thigh with his. ‘Spread.’

He fits himself between your legs and kisses you again.

The blunt head of him nudges you, and you don’t realise you’re holding your breath until he’s in you all the way and you’re dizzy with pleasure.

He buries his head in your neck.

‘Fuck. You feel so fucking good,’ he groans.

He moves, a slow stroke that makes you arch into him.

You moan his name, and he moves again, rocking his hips against yours, deep, hard.

You close your eyes but realise what a mistake that was when you open them again and see how beautiful Jeon Jungkook looks when he’s fucking you.

He hooks a forearm around your thighs and drags you to the edge of the bed so he can stand and fuck you.

Fuck, how have you never realised how strong he is?

He smirks at you, and you’d want to slap it off his face except he’s doing something with his hips now that’s making the pleasure spiral and you’re two short steps from —-

He lowers his mouth to yours again and then you’re coming, legs wrapped around his hips, his chest flattening yours, his sweat all over you.

He murmurs what sounds like approval as he fucks you through it.

You gasp his name and he groans, fucking you harder, speeding up and then slowing until he comes, buried deep inside you.

He pulls out, yanks off the condom with a whine and ties it off, dropping it on the floor carelessly. He collapses down next to you, panting.

For a moment you’re both quiet.

Then he says, ‘Shit. That was way better than jerking off with those panties I stole.’

You slap him on the chest. ‘Shut up, asshole.’

‘Stop flirting with me. I need a minute before we can go again.’

Jungkook grins at you but he’s still got an arm around your hips and his thigh slotted between yours so you can’t be too mad.

***

You wake up to bright sunshine right in your face even though you drew the drapes last night before you went to bed because Jeon Jungkook is halfway in your open window.

You sit up, confused as hell.

‘What the fuck—‘

You can’t work out if he’s coming or going.

You get your answer then he drops into your room with a thud.

‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘Forgot to slash those tires last night.’

‘You didn’t?!’

‘Keep your voice down,’ he advises. ‘We don’t want her to know it was me.’

You’re speechless.

‘Did you seriously just —‘

‘Don’t finish your question so I don’t have to answer it,’ Jungkook tells you.

He’s getting undressed again, kicking off his shoes, staring hard at your bare chest half covered by the duvet.

He jumps back into bed with you and you greet him with another kiss.

His hand trails over the curve of your breasts.

‘Let’s not talk about it again,’ you say.

‘Yeah,’ he agrees.

‘Do you want to come on my tits?’

Jungkook groans. ‘Fuck, yeah.’

***

You’re back at home in your apartment unpacking when the familiar banging on your door starts.

You yank the door open. ‘You literally just left, Jeon Jungkook,’ you complain, before you realise he’s not alone.

Jeon Mido, Jungkook’s mother and your boss, is standing outside your door and you’ve still got sand in your hair from fucking Jungkook on the beach before you left the beach house.

Jungkook adjusts the collar of his shirt in a vain attempt to hide the hickey you gave him.

‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise. ‘I wasn’t expecting you.’

Jeon Mido smiles graciously at you.

‘Jungkook tells me he met your parents over the weekend,’ she says.

‘They liked him a lot,’ you tell her, wondering where she’s going with this.

She nods. ‘Good. I thought maybe you’d like to come to dinner with us tomorrow night. My husband would love to meet you.’

You’re so surprised you can’t do anything but accept.

Jeon Mido smiles at you and takes her leave.

You turn to Jungkook. ‘What was that?’

Jungkook shrugs, shaking sand out of his jeans pockets.

‘She’s always said she wants to meet my girlfriends.’

He’s not looking at you directly, and the tips of his ears are red.

‘What?’

‘I don’t know,’ he says, finally. ‘I’ve never had a girl I’m dating meet my parents before.’

‘We’re not dating!’

He’s looking at you now. ‘Aren’t we?’

The way he’s looking at you gives you pause.

‘We see each other every day. We hang out at each others’ places. You help me with my problems and I help you with yours. I’ve met your family.’

He smiles. ‘And you’re the most fucking amazing girl I’ve ever met.’

You stare at him.

‘Unless,’ he continues, ‘you just want to be fuck buddies. I’m down with that too.’

He looks like he’s about to turn away so you grab his arm and tug him towards you.

‘Ok, Jeon Jungkook, I’ll date you,’ you say.

He nods. ‘I thought so.’

He leans down so you can kiss the smug smirk off his face.

With thanks to bloviating-vy for introducing me to the phrase 'fuck you rich' and the works of Smashy for the immortal phrase 'Yonsei dipshits'.

#bts smut #bts fic #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic

2K notes · View notes

cressidagrey · 2 months ago

Text

Holy Ground - Chapter 3

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

The library was supposed to be a safe space. The priestesses were supposed to be sheltered there.

A place far away from the terrors of the world. A place where they could study and learn far from the grasp of those who would harm them.

But clearly today that peace had been destroyed, Rhys reflected weakly.

Merrill was dead.

Neither Cassian or Rhys had let Gwyn see the…carnage of that, Nesta and Emerie bracketing her away from…her fellow priestesses’ corpse…and Irena…

Rhys had to keep repeating the words to himself, over and over again. Like a litany, a prayer, desperately trying to make them stick.

Irena was alive. Irena would be fine.

She would be alright, even though she looked so, so pale, deathly pale in Azriel's arms.

Irena.

Irena, who Azriel had saved around two centuries ago…

Not from the horrors of the war but from her husband.

The daughter of a merchant, married off young, to one of the richest men in the midlands…she had been raised to run an estate…had excelled at it in fact. And her husband had excelled in killing young girls.

The things he had put her through... The things he had done...

Azriel, who had found her and brought her to Velaris had been shocked that she'd stayed in one piece to be honest. Rhys had been shocked too.

And once she had been in the library…she had excelled once more.

Rhys had gotten long used to see her handwriting, not long suffering Clotho’s, fill out the sheets with expenditures and acquisitions.

She had cut the fat, made sure that the House of Wind was self sufficient, thanks to research requests being able to be submitted, thanks to patents and the gardens…

Irena had been a godssend. Literally.

Rhys wasn't quite sure how they had survived before her.

But the last fucking thing he had expected was that…her and Azriel were…mates.

Rhysand had not seen that coming in a million years

But there was no question about it.

If Irena's thoughts, an utter mess of shock and pain and grief and agony...with the only thing that ran through it the whole time was her thread to Azriel wouldn't have been a dead giveaway...then it would have been Azriel's behaviour.

Azriel who had gone on his knees next to the priestess, his hands slick with her blood and had simply clung to her. He had begged her, his voice broken.

Rhys would never forget the sound of his brother's voice, the pure desperation bleeding from every single letter. Please. We haven't had enough time. I am going to be so furious with you if you die. We may have our first fight. Don't you dare. Open your eyes. Look at me, love. You can't go. Fight.

That look on Azriel's face as he had held her close, refusing to let go as he tried to will her back from death's clutches. The words he had kept murmuring like a prayer. A desperate mantra to the Mother, the Cauldron, anyone who would listen.

Azriel was never the most expressive of them. He rarely even showed a flicker of emotion for most things. To see him lose so much control, to beg. To see tears in his eyes. None of them had ever seen him like that before, had ever even considered the possibility of him acting like that.

He was always composed. Always calm, collected, in control. To see him on his knees next to Irena, begging her not to leave as he pressed kisses to her forehead and kept telling her to stay with him…

For a moment, it had felt like he had forgotten the others even existed. That nothing had mattered except her pulse, the slight rise and fall of her chest. The only thing that had mattered to him in that moment was that she was still with him, still alive.

She was important to him. There was no question about it.

Sometime during the last few years, that Priestess had become the Shadowsinger’s whole focus.

Sometime in the past, Irena had become Azriel's whole world.

And Rhys hadn't known. Had known nothing about this.

He could feel the guilt clawing up inside him.

Rhys had had no fucking clue this was happening, right underneath his nose.

That he had never noticed that Azriel's eyes lingered on Irena…had never noticed that Azriel sought her company…hadn’t known that Azriel had spent time with her…

Rhys hadn't known. Hadn't...hadn't even thought about it.

Azriel had pulled back from them after that catastrophic solstice and Rhys had let him. Had thought that Azriel needed to lick his wounds...that maybe then he would see it Rhysand's way...but none of this happened.

Azriel had kept his anger tightly leashed, even though Rhys had gotten a taste of it every time he badgered him. But Azriel hadn’t exploded.

Instead, he had been vicious in throwing Rhysan’ own words back into his face.

There didn’t pass one day where Rhys didn’t regret that one sentence, because Azriel was clearly… furious about it.

Azriel had grown distant...cold...unfeeling. And Rhys had badgered him and got on his nerves and figured that if Azriel would just get it out of his system… but he didn't. Didn't get angry. Didn't fight. Didn't scream...Rhys would have preferred it if he did.

What wouldn't he give to have that old Azriel back, the one who actually got mad? Who didn't just accept everything with a nod and a word of acknowledgment. Who talked to Rhysand, who told him when he'd done something wrong. Who fought with him if he went too far, who made his opinion known. Who told him to his face when he was being an arrogant prick, who didn't just accept his commands with a quiet nod.

But now it made sense. Azriel hadn't fucking cared what Rhys did, what any of the did, because his priorities had been rearranged completely. As long as he could get home to his priestess...he hadn't cared.

He did all the missions Rhys had for him and then went home to the House of Wind and found one quiet corner or another to romance his mate, out of the view from everybody else.

And that was the worst part. That Rhys had been such a prick to Azriel, so wrapped up in his own worries, his own fears, that he hadn't even noticed that something had shifted so fundamentally in his brother. Had pushed him so far away.

Rhys had thought that they were simply…in a rought spot. That in a few years, Azriel would be over Elain and it would be done. But now Rhys realised that…that it wasn’t about Elain. Not really.

Rhys had never realized how deep this was, how close to the breaking point he'd taken his brother.

Deep enough that the fact that Azriel had found his mate...that was something that Azriel didn't share with any of them. Something that happy... Azriel had just kept silent.

Azriel hadn’t trusted them with the most treasured and precious thing in his life.

And that hurt. Hurt more than he could put into words.

That Azriel had found the one person who he was destined for, the only one who was perfect for him in the entire world. The one person who would love and cherish him, who would complete him, who would accept him as he was, who would understand him...and he hadn't told Rhys. Hadn't told any of them.

Azriel hadn't told anyone that he had found his mate.

Had kept that to himself for who knew how long. Just how long had it been? When had he figured out they were mated?

“Bring her to her room,” Madja said at the moment. And Rhys watched as seemingly some colour went back into Irena's cheeks, her eyes closed, her breathing still laboured…her mind filled with Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. and Safe, Safe, Safe.

“My room,” Azriel corrected, his voice fierce. The mating instincts must have gone completely haywire at that very moment, not soothed at all, even when he had pressed a kiss against her forehead moments before.

.“Your room?” Gwyn asked sharply, staring at Azriel, then at still, quiet Irena. She seemed to be utterly shell-shocked, not that Rhys could fault her.

"Gwyn," Rhys said carefully. It was best if none of them...interfered right now. This was between Azriel and his mate.

"Az, how long have the two of you..." Cassian asked, clearly having come to the same conclusion, but Rhys interrupted him. *Leave him be,* he warned their brother.

*Leave him be?! I had no idea that he and Irena are...whatever the fuck they are!*

“Two years. She’s my mate,” Azriel answered, not even looking at any of them, completely concentrated on said mate.

"Mate," Irena agreed weakly. "Mine."

"Yours," Azriel agreed, his voice hoarse, as he picked her up carefully like his mate was made out of spun glass. "Let's tuck you into bed, Love," he told her softly.

And off his spymaster went carrying the priestess that was his mate.

Rhys could just stare after them.

"Did you know?" Cassian demanded sharply.

"I had absolutely no fucking clue," Rhys admitted weakly.

He felt the guilt swirling inside him, deep and bitter and vicious. He should have known. He should have realized and supported Azriel.

But it had been Rhys who had pushed him so far away that he hadn't told him. That he didn't even think that he could tell Rhys that he had found his mate.

And it hurt. Gods, it hurt. To know that Azriel had kept something that he should have been so happy about to himself just so he wouldn't have to deal with Rhys's bullshit.

Cassian started barking orders...About a stretcher and about Merrill's body...It would be taken away and prepared for the last rites.

It wasn't often that one of the priestesses died. It wasn't...They were safe here. They were supposed to be safe here...but whatever happened in this room…

“What even happened?” Rhys asked, as he turned around to surview the carnage.

It was bad. Really bad.

“Irena went to talk to Merill, because Merrill got…angry with one of the newer acolytes…” Gwyn said, her voice shaky. “Merrill was in a bad mood because Irena forbid her newest research project.”

Her newest research project? It was well known that Merrill was brilliant. So for Irena to…

"Why did she forbid it?" Rhys asked curiously.

"It involved some form of spell crafting. Irena wanted Merrill to have supervision from a spellcrafter, because it was a language that none of us actually understood and we didn’t eve know about what kind of spell it was…Merill didn't think that was needed," Gwyn said weakly, wiping away tears. "And now look where that got us. God, how could Merrill be this stupid?"

"It wasn't stupidity, it was probably arrogance," Cassian said with a sigh. "It's dumb luck that only...that only Irena got hurt.

Rhys couldn't but agree with Cassian's assessment. It was a miracle that Irena was alive. That she'd survived when Merrill’s body was…near unrecognisable….clearly it had been closer to whatever had blown up in their faces

Merrill had probably thought she knew what she was doing, but she didn't have the skill or training to work on advanced spell work. I

rena wasn’t the type of person who would deny research on a whim either. If she believed that Merrill needed supervision then Merrill had needed supervision.

Irena was clever. And cautious.

Azriel's mate was a damn good judge of character after all.

Gods, Azriel's mate. What a thought…

The spymaster and the priestess. Rhys’ near silent brother and…and gentle, caring Irena, the beating heart of the library.

Rhys would need to wrap his mind around that in private.

“I’ll seal…this room,” Rhys said quietly. So nobody could enter. And then he would probably turn Amren loose in it, to turn around every fucking stone, so that they figured out what that spell had been that had reacted like it. The last thing they needed was for the spell to have any sort of consequences that involved Irena.

"Clotho," he greeted the priestess as she arrived, inclining his head.

What happened? she demanded, holding out her usual piece of paper.

Rhys felt his stomach churn at that question.

How the hell were they supposed to tell Clotho that not only one of the priestesses had tragically died…but one of the others was currently holed up in an Illyrian warrior's room, recovering from injuries that should have killed her, and that said Illyrian warrior was said priestess's mate, so was probably not going to leave her alone anytime soon?

And that was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to the absolute clusterfuck this whole situation was. There was nothing to do except to simply tell Clotho the truth and hope that she didn't have a breakdown.

"There was an...accident. Merrill is dead," he told her bluntly.

For a moment Clotho was just frozen in place. But he could tell that his words had hit her hard. That she was shocked, horrified, stunned beyond belief. HOW?!

And Rhys took a deep breath, trying to find a way to explain what had happened.

To explain how one of her charges had been killed in a room where she was supposed to be safe…How her own experimentation, her own research had killed her…

And how no one had even noticed that a priestess had been mated.

No...how the shadowsinger had mated to a Priestess and hadn't even thought to tell them because Rhys had acted like such as bastard to his brotherthat Azriel had actually thought it preferable to keep his mating bond a secret.

"Merill didn't listen when Irena turned down her research proposal," Gwyn said suddenly with a shaky voice. "Irena went to talk to her this afternoon, because Merill made Meera cry...It looks like the spell that she was taking apart went...haywire. Merill was killed in the backlash...Irena was hurt.”

Rhys just nodded. It was a reasonable explanation, even if it didn't cover everything that had gone on. At this point in time, he was almost more concerned about Clotho than anything else. The poor female looked ready to collapse.

I told Merill to keep away from that spellbook. We still don’t know what it even contained, Clotho agreed, even her handwriting looking shaky.

He could tell that she was in shock and grief. Could imagine how she must be feeling. Clotho protected the Priestesses with all she had. They were her flock. To lose one of her charges...There was no way that Clotho would not blame herself.

She was going to blame herself for something that wasn't her fault at all. And the thought made Rhys feel sick to his stomach.

Clotho had enough weight on her shoulders already, the last thing she needed was guilt over something that was not even her fault.

IRENA?! Clotho demanded sharply.

"Alive, if just barely," Rhys informed her, trying to push down his own guilt at the thought. "Madja is with her."

In the dormitory?

"No, in Azriel's room," Cassian said bluntly. "Apparently they have been mates for... two years.”

Clotho's head snapped around, facing Cassian, her eyes wide.

Nobody had seen that coming, not even one of Irena’s closest friends.

It seemed like both of them had kept it quiet. Azriel must have so badly wanted to protect his mate from…from him, that…

The thought made Rhys feel sick. Azriel would rather keep his mate a secret than reveal to Rhys that he had found her.

Than tell him that he had found his perfect match, that there was a female in this world that loved him above all others, who understood him, who supported him.

And it was all Rhys' own fault.

He didn't have any other thought. There was no other explanation. If a friend didn't trust him enough to confide in him that he had found his mate, it was because he had done something wrong. So wrong that Azriel hadn't felt like he could tell him.

She wanted to be with him? Clotho demanded.

"From the look of it, she was barely conscious, but still claimed him as hers. And Azriel certainly seemed to think that she would want to be with him," Rhys told Clotho.

And why wouldn't she? He was her mate. Her mate.

"He won't do anything to her," Cassian said fiercely. "She's his mate."

Rhys agreed with that. Of all the males in existence, Azriel was by far the least likely to do anything that Irena would not like. Hell, he wouldn't do anything that might make her even feel mildly uncomfortable. And if she told him to back off, he would give her as much space as she needed.

"Mor, whatever Clotho needs," he told his cousin, who had brought Madja there, who just inclined her head, seemingly shaken. "I'll seal of this room...we'll need to...figure out what to do with it," he said softly. "Clotho, whatever form of memorial you would like to hold...take all the time you need and then let me know."

Clotho looked at him sharply before nodding weakly. She probably wouldn't need his help when it came to something like this. She knew how to handle something like this. How to give her fallen a last farewell.

"I want to check on Irena," Gwyn said, her hands shaking as she crossed her arms.

Rhys nodded. That was fair. Of course Gwyn wanted to check on her friend. And at this point all anyone could really do was wait anyway. "Let me seal the room and then we can go," he said softly. "But I need to warn you, Azriel will be...overprotective," he told her. "Chances are, he won't let you get close to her at all."

"I don't have any doubt about that," Gwyn said dryly. "But she's my friend. I should at least be allowed to check on her."

***

He cleaned the blood of her skin...The shadows procured one of Irena's nightgowns. She didn't protest when he held her up and Madja pulled the soiled, ruined dress from her body...didn't even flinch away from his touch on her naked skin.

They had never gone further than some heated...kisses...further than his hands slipping under her nightgown and pressing against her soft skin. He had never wanted to push. Azriel had been willing to give her all the time in the world.

It had taken months until she had been ready for a hug…longer for a kiss. And he had waited. Gladly. He had gladly waited, because it was worth the wait. She was worth the wait.

Her marriage wasn't something that she was just going to get over, and Azriel was never ever going to push her for more than she willingly offered him.

He had never wanted to undress her under these circumstances. So he closed his eyes, and pressed a kiss to her head, not looking at all.

Irena didn't make a sound, didn't even really respond...just stared into the distance. He wasn't even sure she really noticed what was happening to her. Wasn't sure she even noticed Madja cleaning the wounds…cleaning thin, silver lines, scars of her past, mostly hidden by her clothing, but still visible.

This was also when they saw the rest of the wounds...and the fact that her bad leg was broken.

Madja bandaged it carefully, stuffing pillows underneath it to keep it elevated, wrapped the rest of her bruises and scrapes with a tincture.

Still, once she was clean, no more debris in her hair, her skin as clean as he could get it...and the new nightgown was fitted over her skin, he tugged her underneath the thick goose feather stuffed duvet and then the furs.

There was no resistance on Irena’s part. She just let him do as he pleased, let herself be maneuvered and tucked in with the patience of a parent settling a little girl into bed. She didn't say anything. Didn't protest at all, even when he curled his own large body around her smaller frame, even when his wings came around her, shielding her from the outside world.

But she didn't move to snuggle up to him either. Didn't reach for him, didn't try to press her body into his. Just...allowed him to pull her close and hold her as tightly as he wanted. Her body was limp and unmoving, the only emotion on her face a sort of...emptiness. A blank expression that...it was terrifying.

He wrapped his arms around her with a sigh, running a gentle hand through her hair with a sigh. He knew that she was in shock. That she had just survived something terrible, something traumatic. So it wasn't surprising that she wasn't really responsive at the moment, that her skin felt like ice to him and that she was shaking slightly, trembling…

But the instinct to comfort her, to protect her from everything that might hurt her was roaring in his chest. He couldn't pull away from her, even though he knew he should. Even though he knew he should just be thankful that he had her, that she was here, in his hands, breathing.

She felt so thin in his hands. So fragile. Like she might break if he didn't hold her close. And that feeling, the knowledge of how vulnerable his mate was, it was almost too much for him to bear.

“I have pain potions and a sleeping draught,” Madja said quietly.

Azriel felt his jaw clench at the mention of a sleeping draught. He wanted Irena to rest, needed her to sleep away some of the horrors, but there was also some instinct in him that revolted at the idea of making her vulnerable like that. That revolted at the thought of knocking his mate out when she couldn't protect herself.

“Is that alright, love?” He asked her softly.

She didn't answer. Didn't even stir. The only sign that she had heard his question at all was the way her fingers clenched more tightly in his shirt. The only outward sign that she even understood that he was there at all. That she could even hear him. "Love?" He asked again, his voice a gentle murmur. "Do you want the sleeping draught, love?"

“Sleep?” She repeated weakly.

“Sleep.” He promised her.

She simply opened her mouth in response, letting him pour it down her throat and swallowed.

He ran gentle fingers through her hair as the potion began to take effect. As her eyelids drooped and her limbs went loose and he could almost watch the tension leaving her body. He couldn't help but press a soft, tender kiss to the crown of her head.

Azriel couldn't put into words how good it felt to have her in his arms like this. To have her safe and protected and healing.

Madja left with the promise to be back soon…and as soon as she left there was a knock at the door. He didn’t want to deal with his brothers.

*We could bar the door, master,* the shadows offered.

Azriel considered that for a long moment. It was tempting. Really, really tempting to just let the shadows seal the door and tell everyone to fuck off. That they could deal with the rest of the world later and he could just focus on Irena for now.

He knew that he couldn't though. Knew that he couldn't keep the world away from Irena. For all that he would like to protect her from all the harm in this world and lock her away into the safety of his arms, he knew that he couldn't do that. And that Rhys would throw a fit if he didn't let them in immediately.

He sighed softly, his arms tightening around his mate. He didn't want to deal with his brothers right now. Didn't want to deal with Rhys lecturing him about his decisions. Didn't want the pity and understanding in Cassian's eyes, his careful kindness. He didn't want to have to hold up the strong facade when his brother pushed and pushed and pushed.

“Come in,” he said flatly.

Azriel sighed softly as the door was opened and his brothers entered, both looking at him with concern. There was something else in Rhys' eyes, something that he wasn't sure how to name. The High Lord had an indecipherable look on his face as he moved to come stand next to the bed.

But it was Gwyn that shouldered both Rhys and Cassian out of the way, that immediately went to Irena’s bedside.

“She’s asleep,” he warned her softly. “Madja gave her a sleeping draught.”

The Valkyrie moved in silence, but Azriel could tell that she desperately wanted to reach out and touch her friend. Could tell that there was some instinct in her to touch Irena, to comfort her, that she was fighting against. He almost felt bad for her, knowing how hard it must have been to hold back that urge to offer comfort, knowing how desperately she had to want to soothe her friend's pain.

He knew that the two of them were close. That Irena was well liked by practically every priestess…That Roslin was her very best friend, but that she also got along with seemingly everybody else, including Gwyn.

And he wanted to let her get close to his mate. He really did. But the need to keep his mate safe was too strong. Was something that he couldn't fight against. So he just pulled Irena more firmly into his chest.

His only saving grace was that Gwyn seemed to understand. Didn't even try to argue with him or demand to get close to his mate. She just stayed at a respectable distance and didn't protest when he pulled Irena closer to his chest.

He could tell that she recognized his possessive nature for what it was. Just a desperate instinct to hold and protect his mate from further harm. And she didn't argue with him.

“You are the one who gets her the tea and the cookies, aren’t you?” She asked him suddenly. “I was wondering where she got them from. They were always good but the tea has definitely gotten better the last two years.”

*See, Master?!* the shadows cooed, seemingly heaving and then coming to blanket Irena in their very presence too. *We are getting her the best tea!*

They seemed very pleased with themselves.

Azriel knew that when he wasn’t in Velaris, some of the shadows even kept Irena company through the night, cuddling themselves beneath her blankets with her. He also knew that Irena loved it.

Knew better than anyone even his shadows that those moments of comfort, those little gestures, mattered more to his mate than any large gifts ever could. Irena had never cared about large gestures, about pricy gifts, didn’t care about gifts or public displays of affection.

But those little things…she loved those little things. Loved her shadows coming to spend time with her…loved it when he gave her a back rub to ease the pain in her back, or when the shadows brought her the tea that she liked or her favourite cookies.

And Azriel…he loved giving her that. He was happy to provide each and every one of them. He would do anything for her at this point. Would bring her anything that she asked for with enthusiasm. Because he loved it when her face lit up or when she smiled when he brought her something she didn't expect to get. That was something that he would never get tired of.

Azriel would never get tired of watching her face light up with happiness at the smallest of gifts that he gave her. Would never tire of feeling those little gestures bring her even a small moment of happiness. It brought him somuch joy to see her delighted by something so small. Made something inside of him fill with warmth.

“I’ll let her sleep,” Gwyn said softly. “Tell her when she’s awake that she owes us all the gossip. None of us had a clue that the two of you were seeing each other.”

Azriel inclined his head in response, a soft grin pulling at his lips despite everything. "I'll be sure to tell her." Not that he thought that there was anything to gossip about.

Gwyn left with another smile. Which left him with his brothers.

“Az.” Cassian said with a weary sigh. ”What the fuck.”

Azriel frowned sharply, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he looked at his brother. His arms tightened around Irena unconsciously, the protective instinct coming into play.

He knew Cassian, knew all too well that his brother liked to be a pain in his ass, liked to push him further than he wanted to be pushed. "I'm not in the mood for your bullshit, Cassian," he warned his brother in a low growl. "Say whatever it is that you feel the need to say, and then get out."

He knew that he probably looked completely insane. Knew that he looked like a madman clutching onto Irena with an iron grip and growling at anyone who dared get too close. But he couldn't help it. Couldn't help the instincts that seemed to be pulling at every muscle in his body, couldn't stop the tension that was coiling tight as a spring.

“How long has… this been going on?“ Rhys asked delicately.

“Two years at next Starfall,“ Azriel answered flatly.

Cassian whistled softly at that. "Two years?!" He asked incredulously. "And you didn't think to tell us?"

Azriel's jaw clenched automatically at the words.

He had thought to tell them. Numerous times.

He had just never wanted to.

First he had wanted to let things settle and solidify before announcing it to his family and letting them come swarming in to analyse their relationship…Later…later he just hadn’t wanted to.

They were completely happy when nobody knew. Why change it?

Azriel knew that he probably should have anticipated this reaction. Probably should have expected his brothers to be confused and annoyed, probably should have anticipated them wanting to know more. But he just hadn't wanted to deal with the questions and inquiries and curiosity and judgement.

So he had kept his relationship with Irena a secret.

“It was none of your business,” he said simply.

Cassian stared at him, dark eyes pained. “We are your brothers,” he said quietly.

“Quite frankly, I just didn’t want to deal with whatever opinion you cook up about us,” Azriel said flatly. His brothers were way too nosy and curious for their own good. Always had been. “We are happy. I didn’t want you to ruin that.”

They would have never respected his privacy or any boundary he had tried to set up.

He knew that Cassianwas probably annoyed that he hadn’t told him about his relationship with Irena. Knew that he was probably feeling left out and...excluded. That he was hurt that Azriel had kept this from him. But he just couldn’t find it within himself to feel any sympathy at the moment. Not when his patience was already wearing thin. Not when he could still feel the fear of almost losing Irena thrumming under his skin.

He couldn’t deal with this right now. Couldn’t handle whatever pity or lecturing his brother would give him. Just wanted to hold his mate and try to keep the fear of losing her at bay.

That fear was already too much, already consuming him and threatening to swallow him whole. The only thing that kept him sane, the only thing that kept him from falling apart was the knowledge that his mate, his Irena, was safe in his arms. And he needed to focus on that if he wanted to keep it together.

“Azriel.” Rhys’ choice was choked.

Azriel stiffened at the sound, his attention flicking to his brother automatically. There was something in Rhys’ voice, some emotion in his eyes that Azriel couldn’t quite discern right now.

He had heard his brother choked or emotional or desperate before, but this was something else. This was emotion in his brother that he had never seen before: raw, unfiltered, and painful.

The tone of Rhys’ voice, the almost anguished look in his eyes had Azriel holding his breath for a moment. Had his heartbeat picking up speed as he waited for his brother to speak.

The tension was heavy and thick as he waited, his muscles coiled tight as he waited for Rhys to speak. His whole body tense like a tightly wound spring.

“I am sorry,” Rhys whispered quietly.

Azriel stiffened slightly at that, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly. His muscles were still tense, still ready for a fight, but the raw apology in Rhys' words, the emotion in his voice...it surprised him.

It was unexpected. He had expected the anger and the hurt and the bitterness, not the raw emotion in his brother’s voice. Not the apology.

He almost couldn’t believe his ears, almost wanted to ask his brother to repeat himself. But he just stayed quiet instead, just tensed and listened and waited for his brother to continue speaking.

He couldn't even blink as he waited, as he hung on every slight movement or small change in expression on his brothers face. The tension was so thick, so heavy he could almost taste it. But he still didn't move an inch. Just waited, every muscle still as a statue as he watched his brother with an almost desperate intensity.

“I am sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t want to hurt you,” Rhys said quietly. “I…we would have been happy for you,” Rhys promised him fiercely.

Azriel felt his throat go dry at the words. The apology, the admission of his brother's intent to protect him, it was so unexpected that he almost couldn’t comprehend it. He felt some of the tension drain from his body, some of the tightness in his muscles loosening slightly.

Azriel's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he almost couldn't hear anything else over the sound. The raw emotion in his brother's voice, the sincerity in those simple words...it was overwhelming.

“You were hurt,” Rhys said softly. “I understand. But you could have come to us any time over the last two years and told us and we would have been a happy for you,” he promised him fiercely.

"Would you have really?" Azriel asked softly. "Would you really have been happy for us and not made a problem out of nothing?"

He wanted to believe his brother, truly he did. But there was still a small part of him, the small part that had been hurt and mistreated and rejected so many times before, that was waiting for the other shoe to drop. The part of him that was looking for a catch, looking for the sign that this was just another manipulation.

He didn't want to feel this way, didn't want to look for the betrayal and rejection that had been written into his very soul. But he couldn't help it. Couldn't help the small part of him that was constantly looking for the next blow, bracing for rejection and hurt.

“We would have,” Cassian said fiercely. “You found your mate, Az.”

Azriel nodded slowly.

“How did you even hide it?” Cassian demanded, crossing his arms.

“I do know how to use a sound shield,” Azriel gave back flatly.

Cassian let out a low chuckle at that, shaking his head as he grinned. "Well, you've always been more adept at keeping secrets than I am," he teased, a sly grin pulling at his lips. “ Since when do you sleep surrounded by furs by the way?” Cassian muttered.

“Irena gets cold,” he said simply.

“Wait, she spend the nights here with you?” Cassian suddenly realised.

"None of your business," Azriel replied flatly, not even trying to hide his annoyance with the nosy question. "Just focus on keeping your own mate happy, brother."

“How do you even sneak her up here?!”

"None of your business," Azriel repeated flatly. "My relationship with my mate is my own business, not yours."

He knew that he was being stubborn, that he was probably being unreasonable right now. But he couldn't help it. His emotions were too raw, too overwhelming for him to handle the intrusion into his personal life. He just wanted to focus on Irena and making sure she was okay, not on his brother's questions and prodding into the details of his relationship.

It was none of their business how he and Irena spent their time together, how they snuck around the house without being caught. That was something private, something sacred between them. And he wasn't going to share it with anyone, not even his own brothers.

He just wanted to protect that intimacy between him and his mate, wanted to keep it safely guarded from prying eyes that might not understand. He knew that his brothers cared about him, but he also knew that they could be too nosy for their own good sometimes.

“…is she aware what these furs mean?” Cassian asked him pointedly.

Was she aware that Azriel was laying claim to her with every single one of those furs that he hunted for her? Aware that he was following Illyrian tradition, regardless of how much…of how fucked up it was in many senses?

“Yes,” he said simply. Kinda. A little bit.

"So it's...serious?" Cassian asked him.

"She's my mate," he snapped back.

Cassian held up his hands in a pacifying gesture, a sheepish expression on his face.

Azriel let out a low groan, rubbing a hand over his face. "Just…leave it alone," he said tiredly. "Please. I'm not in the mood for any more questions right now."

He just wanted to be alone with Irena, wanted to hold her close and let the warmth of her body soothe his frayed nerves. He didn't want to deal with his brothers and their incessant questioning. Didn't want to talk about his relationship with Irena or how serious it was. He just wanted to be with her and that was it.

. His emotions were just too raw, too close to the surface for him to hold back. He just wanted a moment of peace, of quiet, with his mate.

He just wanted to hold her close and breathe in the scent of her skin, wanted to feel her warmth against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her protectively. He just wanted to know that she was safe, that she was still here with him. Was that really too much to ask?

He let out a long breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him. He didn't want to be angry, didn't want to be frustrated. But he couldn't help it, couldn't help the surge of protective instincts that came over him every time he thought about how close he had come to losing his mate.

"If you need anything, let us know," Rhys said quietly.

Azriel stiffened at the words, his hands curling into fists at his sides automatically. He knew that Rhys was only trying to be supportive, that he was only trying to offer his help. But Azriel didn't want that. Didn't want his brother's help or sympathy. He just wanted to be left alone with his mate.

He wanted to protect her himself, to take care of her and keep her safe without his brothers' interference. He knew that Rhys only meant well, but that knowledge did nothing to calm his instincts. All he could think about was how close he had come to losing his mate, how close he had come to never seeing her again. And the thought terrified him.

It made his heart clench and his gut twist in fear and pain, his hands clenching tight as he struggled to keep his emotions under control. He didn't want to be vulnerable, didn't want to let his brothers see how much this had affected him. But he knew that it was pointless to try and hide it, that his brothers could probably see the rawness of his emotions written all over his face.

Azriel didn't try to argue with his brother, didn't try to explain himself. He just nodded.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #Holy Ground

656 notes · View notes