#please tell me what you think; because i had this in the making for a very long time

[gospelica]

"what's this 'bout a boy?"

your pervy uncle sukuna has you bent over his knee like you're about to be spanked. but rather than hit the flesh of your ass with his calloused hands, he's plunging two fingers meanly into your cunt like you deserve a punishment :(

it's not your fault! you want to say that, to beg for him to go easy on you but every time you open your pretty lips to speak all that comes out is desperate moans and pleads for more. he curls his fingers inside of you every now and then, makes you see stars just to pull that pleasure from you!

you can't be too loud, though, your parents are only in the other room. uncle sukuna is meant to be here for a family dinner, one in which he'll exchange weird jabs with your father and make your mother turn her nose up all the while he's digging nails into your thigh under the table. you haven't seen him in months now, not since the last time he visited and you ended face-down-ass-up on your pretty comforter taking his cock so deep you forgot your own name.

as if you could settle for boys your age after a taste of him.

sukuna stops his movements and, with his free hand, forces your chin up to look at him the best you can from where you're bent over his knee. "fuckin' answer me. who's the boy?"

"no one!"

"lying brat, you want me to make you cry again?"

uncle sukuna had overheard an exchange between you and your mother when he first showed up. you were telling him about a boy from your college classes that had asked you out: sweet, well mannered, probably a bore in the bedroom. your mother encouraged it, because of course she thinks you're rather lonely. after all, you've never brought a man home! she just doesn't know it's because your uncle would find a way to make his murder as cruel as possible... :(

"'m not even interested in him," you have to breathe through your mouth, squeezing around sukunas fingers which are still stalled inside of you. "he asked me out. i said no. i can't... i can't be with other guys now that i have you."

there's silence. you know your uncle doesn't like that sappy shit. he's the type to fuck you rough and mean and leave you shaking just to throw a teasing 'love you' over his shoulder as he's leaving, just to watch your eyes widen as you stand between your oblivious parents. but you also know that he's possessive. that he'll do anything he can to stake his claim on you, though because of the secrecy of your relationship that usually means inhibiting your ability to sit down without wincing for a week.

"what, you think i'm your boyfriend or something?" his fingers start up again, making your pussy squelch as he thrusts them into you at a newer, meaner pace. "got some news for you about our relationship, brat."

"no i know," you gasp as he curls his fingers up again. you're so close, so fucking close it hurts. you're digging your nails into his leg though he doesn't seem to mind at all. "still. don't want anyone else... fuuuuck, uncle sukuna, right there, please.."

you think he laughs. or maybe moans as you definitely break skin with how hard you're digging into him. he speeds up, starts rubbing your needy little clit in fast circles until you're trying to keep quiet when your orgasm crashes over you.

"look at you, talking bout boys when you can't even last with two of my fingers inside this little cunt. fucking pathetic."

he pulls his fingers out just to sharply pinch your clit before moving you to better sit on his strong lap. "i'll drive you to classes tomorrow."

you're a little too stupid from your orgasm to get his point. "what?"

"no one knows i'm your uncle. hell, you hardly knew me yourself til i started showing up. i'll drive you, walk you in, show everyone you're spoken for."

"am i spoken for?"

"tch. don't play fuckin' dumb."

[mercurysmicrowave]

Imagine you and Mark broke up because he still had lingering feelings for Eve. So now you're sitting in your dorm room late at night when...

"(Y/N)?" A familiar voice calls from the other side of the door. You put your phone down and move from your bed. You hesitate to open the door. Not because you don't want to see the person on the other side, but because it's really late and usually Mark taps on your window or texts you first.

"(Y/N), are you in there?" Mark asks. "Please, I...I need to see you. I need to know you're okay." Your heart shatters at the desperation in his voice. You reach for the doorknob and open your door.

"Mark?" The lightning in the hallway is dim, but you can tell that your ex-boyfriend is wearing his hero suit. You quickly pull him into your room and lock the door.

"What is wrong with you?" You ask. "What if someone saw you?" He doesn't answer. Instead he pulls you into a tight hug.

"Oh god, you're okay," He says. His voice was barely above a whisper. "You're safe." You reluctantly wrap your arms around him. You've seen Mark cry before, but never like this.

"Yes, I'm safe," You tell him. "But what are you doing here?" Before he can answer, your window shatters. Your pushed to the ground and your ex-boyfriend is pinned against the wall.

"Mark!" You exclaim. You rub your head, and your eyes try to adjust to the dark scene. Mark was being pinned to the wall by...Mark? You rush to the light switch and flip it on. Held against the wall was Mark in a black and blue suit, but his whole face his covered. And holding him against the wall, was another Mark, in his new blue and black suit, but you were able to see his face.

"Don't fucking touch her," Your Mark growls. His hands tightened around the imposter's neck.

"Get off of me!" The imposter's says in between coughs. His head is bleeding, and the blood starts to roll down his face. The imposter turns to you.

"(Y/N)," The imposter says. "You're not gonna let him kill me, are you?" You stutter out a sentence, your mind moving faster than you can process words. You look between the two, unsure what to do.

"Don't listen to him," Your Mark yells. "He came with other variants of me. They're evil. They only live to kill." You want to believe him, you really do. But the Mark against the wall is in so much pain. And if he wanted to kill you...why didn't he? Without thinking, you begin to move to the two Marks.

"Let him go, Mark," You say. Your Mark glares at you.

"Seriously? Did you not hear what I said?" His words are harsh, but his voice sounds hurt. "He'll kill you! What? Just because we're broken up, you'll be with another version of me! I'm trying to save you!"

"I know what you said!" Your anger scares both Marks. Neither of them have ever known you to raise your voice before. "Let him go, please." You say quieter. Your Mark curses under his breath before letting the imposter go. The Other Mark sinks to the floor, gasping for breath and holding his neck. He looks up to you. He crawls on the ground and hugs your legs.

"I'm sorry," He cries. "Please! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to! Please forgive me!" You look back at Your Mark who's standing behind you with his arms crossed. He scoffs and turns away from you. You look back down to the Mark on the floor.

"It's...it's okay," You reassure him. "I'm safe, remember. I'm not hurt." The Other Mark nods his head.

"Yes, you're safe," He repeats. "I'll make sure you'll always be safe." A rush of wind hurls past you. Before you can even blink, the Other Mark is standing on the other side of the room with his hand balled in a fist. Your Mark holds his chest. Blood gushes from his mouth, and he falls to the ground.

Your eyes widen in shock. You're sure you screamed, but you can't hear anything. You rush to your ex-boyfriend's side, kneeling beside him. Blood quickly pools around him.

"Mark? Mark!" You scream. The Other Mark lifts you from the ground.

"Don't do that," He says, his voice strangely calm. "You could get an infection. What if you got sick? Do you want me to be alone again?" You struggle to get out of his grasp, but he won't budge. He floats above the ground and flies the both of you out of your window. You beat against his body in protest as you scream for Your Mark.

"It's okay, (Y/N)," The Other Mark says. "You're safe with me now."

[fixatedonwriting]

My dad had a drug store in Mississippi in the 70s and 80s, and I worked there off and on starting when I was about ten or eleven. It was an incredibly tiny town, so everyone knew my parents. They also knew me and my younger siblings as the small creatures who lurked behind the showcases. Which did not prepare them to have to deal with us actually working up at the counter.

So I'm ten or eleven. (Can't remember which. I'm old.) And this young Black guy comes in. He's acting pretty normal until he clocks the fact that none of the adult women who worked for my father were currently on shift, and that I was the only person standing there.

So he does this little dance where he starts to leave and then comes back. Leaves and comes back. Leaves and comes back.

Finally, I call out in my best "Daddy taught me this was called 'customer service'" voice: "Hey! Can I help you?"

This forces him to slowly walk up to the counter. Like it's the last place he wants to be, but he doesn't want to weird out this elementary school kid by rushing out the door.

So he gets right up in front of the counter and gestures for me to come a little closer. When I do, he whispers something I can't quite hear.

"What?" I ask in a very loud voice that causes him to cringe.

"I said," he whispers, "I need some mumble, mumble."

"What?!" I ask again, even more loudly and high-pitched than before.

This makes him shuffle around a bit while shaking his head. He is clearly having a very bad day.

"I said," he whispers, dragging out each and every word, "I need some con-dom-z."

"Oh," I say, more than a little confused because I'm pretty sure we don't sell any condoms. I know this because I've freaking grown up in that store, and if there was a product in it, I'd either seen it or shelved it. So I'm about to tell this guy he needs to go elsewhere.

But while I'm standing there, wracking my poor, little mind, this guy's face has gone into full "My lord, why must I suffer this way?" mode. I decide I can't send him away like that, so I do what any customer-service-child would do.

"Dad!" I yell. "This guy says he needs some condoms!"

Cue customer wrapping his hands around his head. Like if he wasn't in public, he'd be in full-on fetal position.

My dad emerges from behind the pharmacist's partition, takes one look at this poor fellow, and says, "Why don't you come on into the back? We'll get you taken care of."

Dude doesn't says anything, but quickly nods and follows. Later, he scoots right past me on his way out with a brown paper bag in his hand.

My dad comes up with him and stops to hand me a pad of the store stationery. He doesn't say anything, just looks at me sort of red-faced.

I look at it, back at him, then at it, and back at him again.

He sighs and finally says, "For when someone asks for something like that in the future. Just write it on the there and pass it around the partition."

"Okay," I say, not quite understanding why there's all of this emotion in the room, but willing to take this on as yet another part of my training.

The bell rings over the front door, and my dad starts to go back to where he stocks drugs, counts pills, and types up labels. But partway around the partition, he stops and looks back at me.

"Please don't tell your mother," he says before slipping away.

And that is how I learned we sold a bunch of stuff behind the partition that I never knew existed. From that day forward, I used that pad for condoms, sex toys, and all sorts of other products 1970s/80s Mississippi wouldn't allow us to display on the shelves.

I'd like to think it isn't that way anymore.

But I have a feeling that somewhere out there, there's another customer-service-child holding onto a pad.

[p0orbaby]

Indexical Reminder of a Morning Well Spent

i sent a little of this to @wosofutbolfan and it apparently passed the test so here it is

-

The goal was fucking beautiful.

A pure, uncut masterclass in footballing telepathy.

Alexia had barely looked before she whipped the ball into the box. You were already moving, already there, like you had a GPS tracker embedded under your skin, waiting for the exact moment to strike. One touch, a ruthless finish, and the net rippled like it was bowing to your greatness. The crowd went feral. Commentators lost their minds. Pundits called it art.

Now, in the changing room, your teammates are still reeling.

“Okay, but what the actual hell was that?” Mapi demands, pulling off her tape.

Pina shakes her head, throwing a towel over her shoulder. “It’s not normal. You don’t even look at each other. It’s like—like she breathes, and you just know.”

Patri squints at you. “Do you practice that at home?”

Irene folds her arms. “Be honest. Do you two have, like, a shared consciousness?”

Kika points at you. “Are you some kind of footballing hive mind? Because I refuse to believe that was just instinct.”

You stretch out your legs, completely unfazed. “It because we fuck all the time.”

Silence.

Alexia, who had been mid-sip of her water, chokes.

Coughs. Gags. Almost dies.

Mapi slaps the locker and cackles. “That explains a lot.”

Pina’s eyes widen. “Excuse me?”

Patri grips her towel like it’s a seatbelt. “What does that have to do with football?”

You shrug. “Everything.”

Alexia is still spluttering. “No, no, no. Stop.”

You ignore her completely. “When you have sex as often as we do, you develop a kind of… connection.”

Alexia lunges, slamming a hand over your mouth. “Don’t you dare.”

Mapi grins. “Oh, no. She has to.”

Alexia glares at her. “She doesn’t.”

Kika leans forward. “No, I think she should.”

Pina nods, barely suppressing her laughter. “For scientific purposes.”

Patri crosses her arms. “If we’re going to be subjected to your disgusting public displays of on-pitch chemistry, we deserve the full explanation.”

You lick Alexia’s palm.

She yelps and jerks away like she’s been electrocuted.

You wipe your mouth. “As I was saying—”

“No. No,” Alexia pleads.

You continue, unfazed. “I know her body. Every inch of it. The way her muscles shift. The exact moment she tenses before she—”

Alexia actually grabs you. Tries to physically drag you away. “We’re leaving.”

You dodge, side-stepping like you’re evading a stubborn defender. “I just mean, when you’ve had someone clench around your fingers enough times—”

Alexia lunges again.

You bolt, darting around the physio table.

Mapi screams with laughter. “OH MY GOD.”

Kika has tears in her eyes. “Please, keep going. This is the greatest thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

Alexia is desperate. “Stop talking.”

You dodge her again. “It’s pure instinct at this point. Like how I know exactly when she’s about to—”

Alexia dives. Misses.

Pina has collapsed onto the floor. “I cannot breathe.”

Patri is crying. “Make it stop.”

Irene wipes her face. “No, keep going, I need every detail.”

Mapi is wheezing. “Wait, wait, wait—are you saying that every time you score a goal off her pass—”

You smirk. “It’s basically an extension of our sex life, yes.”

Alexia grabs you, shakes you like she’s trying to reset your brain. “You. Are. Deranged.”

You grin. “Fong pretend you don’t love it.”

She shoves you. “I’m not pretending, I loathe it.”

Mapi is practically convulsing with laughter. “You’re telling me every single assist—”

“—is just an echo of last night’s activities? Oh definitely.”

Kika collapses onto the bench. “I need an exorcism.”

Alexia physically hauls you toward the showers. “We are leaving this conversation.”

You plant your feet. “Wait, wait, just let me finish—”

“No.”

“I’m just saying, it’s good motivation, you know? The more I score, the more assists she gets, the better the reward.”

Mapi screeches.

Pina is on the floor.

Patri is pleading with the universe.

Kika throws her water bottle at you. “LEAVE.”

Alexia shoves you through the doorway. “You’re done.”

Mapi wheezes. “This is the best day of my life.”

Alexia looks at the team like she’s asking for divine intervention. “This is the worst day of mine.”

[moonstruckme]

Hey Mae, you wrote a Spencer smut blurb a while ago about him helping reader speak up in the bedroom and at the end it mentions him using his handcuffs on reader. Just wondering if you would write a followup to that heheh 🌚

Thank you for requesting babe ;)

cw: smut mdni, bondage, slighttttt dom spencer but not really it's a collaborative effort haha

Spencer Reid x afab!reader ♡ 652 words

You make an involuntary whimpering sound. 

Spencer lifts his head to look at you. “You okay?” 

“Y…yeah.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Very sure.” 

Your boyfriend’s look softens. “Okay. Try not to sound so distressed, please? It makes me think you’re not having fun.” 

“Sorry.” You want to tell him that you’re not having fun, but you are, really. The bite of metal into your wrists is a welcome, if frustrating, restraint. 

“You don’t have to be sorry, sweetheart,” Spencer assures you, voice turning slow as he lowers his lips back to your shoulder. The brush of his knuckles against your inner thigh is enough to make another whimper rise in your throat. 

The handcuffs were your idea. You don’t think bringing work into the bedroom would have ever crossed Spencer’s mind, but your stomach had flipped excitedly when he’d locked them over your wrists. He was careful not to make them too tight, told you to say something if they started to rub your skin wrong, but you sort of enjoy the pressure of them each time you tug against the bed frame. 

Spencer’s curiosity is just as fervid in the bedroom as it is out. He takes his time with you, cataloguing each movement and sound. Your breath hitches, and he tilts his head, an academic. Scientific fingers explore every curve and bend. 

You’re seeping arousal from between your folds before he even gets there. 

“Spence,” you plead.

“Hm?” 

“Can you just—” You can’t say it. You know Spencer appreciates plain language, but you can’t make yourself. You push your hips up, hoping he gets the hint. 

He does. He smiles, the asshole. “Can you be patient? I’m getting there.” 

“Today?” 

“Okay, fine.” Spencer laughs as he pushes two fingers into you, their path slick and easy. You gasp in surprise. “Is this what you want?” 

“Please.” 

“I told you I was getting to it.” His voice gentles. He touches his lips to the side of your throat, fingers moving slowly in and out of you. Curling. Gently, so gently. “You know you do better when we build up to it.” 

You almost miss the days when Spencer was still shy around you. When sex made him nervous, when he didn’t know your body quite so well or feel so confident in how to make you tick. 

He’s right, of course. 

“I’m—ahh…”

“Yeah, I know.” Spencer kisses the flat of your chest. Doubtless feeling your erratic heartbeat. “You never like it when it’s happening, but you’re happy afterward. You’ll thank me.” 

It’s not violent, your undoing; Spencer takes you apart gently, with careful fingers, and then swallows the cry that escapes you like it’s his favorite flavor. 

Your wrists are lined with agitated circlets when he pushes into you. You’re well worked open by then. Time is lost to you. You gasp and roll your hips, desperate to grab him, your fists curling around nothing. 

“Hey.” Spencer’s thumb presses over your pulse, a barrier between you and the cuff. “Relax. Be careful with yourself.” 

His lips are parted, pupils blown but eyes soft with concern. You love him. It’s not the first time you’ve thought it, it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve said it, but suddenly you feel it achingly, urgently, tearily. You love him you love him you love him. 

“Come here,” you beg him in as nice a voice as you can. 

Spencer listens, because he always listens to you, really, even when you’re all tied up and helpless and probably a little delirious. His mouth covers yours with reassuring warmth. 

“Still okay?” he asks, just to be sure. 

“Yes.” You press towards him, kissing his chin, his jaw, his sweaty cupid’s bow. “Oh my god, yes.” 

“Okay.” Spencer links his fingers through yours. Pushing you back, but staying close to you. You shudder at the contact. “We’re okay.” 

“Just stay here, please.” 

“Where do you think I would go?” 

[justalittlespore]

The last time I DMed for a group of people, I had just a bit of experience from many years prior, and most of them had no experience at all. But I'd built a whole world and loose story and was excited to share it with people, so I got this group together to give it a shot.

I made the mistake of having them start out as strangers, with a grand plan to bring them together as a group. You see, I was under the misapprehension that, having agreed to play this game, they were interested in the world and story I'd set up, and would therefore take the hooks I laid for them and find reasons to work together. Because I was a fool.

When they made their characters, I asked them to fill in some basic info for me, including someone important from their life (who was still living), their greatest goal in life, and what their character's main motivation would be to go on an adventure.

Half the players tried to treat the game like a single-player sandbox video game and got frustrated and accused me of railroading them when I asked them to please not run alone into the woods in the very first scene when the characters have all just met and been given a reason to work together. At the first sign of any kind of danger, one player would simply say "my character is a coward so he would run away" and refuse to take part in anything.

One player specified in my questionnaire that his character thought himself very wise (a devoutly religious monk, in fact), but was actually very foolish, and was the type to get drawn in by get-rich-quick schemes. So I prepared a hook to draw him into the plot involving an NPC trying to sell him on a get-rich-quick scheme... which he promptly refused to engage with because he'd decided that actually his character was too zen to be tempted with worldly possessions.

When I began to get exasperated, several of the players pointed out that a good DM like Brennan Lee Mulligan never seemed to have any trouble adapting to what players wanted to do. They were unreceptive to my counter points that 1) that is his entire job, which he is paid for, and 2) his players are skilled improvisers and all actively working together to tell the best story possible.

I feel I should note that at this time, all of us in this group were in our 30s. And not, say, 14-year-olds who you might expect this entitled attitude from.

After a few sessions of desperately trying to keep the characters in the game at all without totally railroading them, I asked everyone to please watch a couple specific episodes of Adventuring Academy with Brennan Lee Mulligan which were about how to be a good player so that everyone has the best possible experience. I had already told them that I was spending literally 8 hours per week planning these sessions and trying to find ways to keep things going and keep together a group of people who desperately wanted to be brooding loners, and I promised them bonus XP at the start of the next session if they would just watch one or two of these videos.

At the start of the next session, one player proudly announced that he hadn't watched the videos, and that he wouldn't, no matter how I tried to bribe him, because he didn't think that being a player in a tabletop roleplaying game should come with homework.

When reminded (again) that I was spending 8 fucking hours a week planning these sessions, for which I was not being compensated in any way, and which he was making harder, he shrugged and said that it was my idea to start this campaign, so it was up to me to keep it going, and keep the players interested enough to keep showing up.

I don't DM anymore.

D&D 5e supposedly has a GM shortage and idk maybe if the player culture of the game didn't treat GMing as a thankless job and the rules of the game as an issue to be fixed by the GM maybe things would be better. Ah well, who knows. Maybe a couple hundred more "we ruined the GM's campaign on purpose" memes will make people enjoy running the game better.

[firewasabeast]

Having Your Baby

There's no mpreg in here, just pregnancy jokes between buck and tommy.

“Mm,” Buck hummed, sleepy and sated as he draped his leg over Tommy’s. He gave him a little bite on the shoulder. “You can never leave now.”

Tommy looked over at him, curious expression on his face. “What are you talking about?” They’d gotten back together a few weeks ago. Everything had been going great. They had discussed all their issues and become an even stronger couple than before. Tommy had no intention of leaving.

Buck sighed softly, eyes already closing. “I’m pretty sure you just got me pregnant.”

That was the night Tommy nearly rolled right out of bed with the force of his laughter. It was also the night their inside joke began.

*****

It could happen at any moment, for any reason.

Nothing was off limits.

“I think I should get the last bite,” Tommy said, staring down at the remaining spoonful of chocolate cake.

“You got the last bite last time,” Buck argued, batting Tommy’s spoon away. He scooped up the bite, but wasn’t able to get it into his mouth before Tommy spoke.

“I’m with child, Evan,” Tommy replied, leaning back and placing a hand over his stomach. “Your child. Do you want the baby to starve?”

Buck glared. “I cannot believe you’d use our child to get your way.”

Tommy shrugged, reaching out for the spoon. “Cake, please.”

“Fine.” Buck reached out, but ignored Tommy’s hand, opting to feed him instead. “I’m getting an extra slice to go though.”

Tommy nodded, swallowing down the cake. “Baby says get two.”

*****

It was late, and they’d been at Bobby and Athena’s place for hours. The party was starting to wind down, but Tommy and Howie had been in the middle of a very long and, in Buck’s opinion, boring conversation about movies.

Buck had tried to pull him away twice now, and tell him it was time to go home, but both times Tommy had said it’d be just a couple more minutes.

That was half an hour ago.

So Buck found a spot on Tommy’s lap, resting his head on his shoulder. Tommy didn’t miss a beat, wrapping one arm around Buck’s back and the other just above his knee, continuing the conversation.

A couple minutes later, Jee came up asking her dad to help her with a spilled drink, so Chim excused himself with a promise that the conversation would continue when he was done.

“Tommy?” Buck started the second Chimney left.

“Yeah, Hon?”

He took the hand that was on his leg and moved it to his stomach. “Baby’s tired, and so am I.”

Tommy pressed a kiss against his temple. “Howie and I have been talking a long time, haven’t we?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay,” Tommy replied, rubbing his hand back and forth over Buck’s stomach. “Let’s get the babies home.”

*****

“I cannot believe we’re arguing about this right now!”

“You’re the one who started it, Evan.”

“Because I told you three times to take the meat out of the freezer last night. Three times, Tommy!”

“And I told you I was sorry that I forgot,” Tommy replied, his voice too calm and cool for the situation. It made Buck want to scream.

“I’m supposed to be making a roast duck with carrots and potatoes tonight. Maddie and Chim are coming over! How am I supposed to make roast duck when it’s frozen solid?!”

“The microwave has a defrost setting.”

Buck was sure his face turned beet red. “I’m gonna pretend you did not just say that to me.”

Tommy sighed, walking around the counter to get closer to Buck. “I’m really sorry, Evan,” he said, slowly reaching out and tugging at Buck’s arm. “I’ll run to the store and get another duck. Okay?”

“It needs to be exactly 2.8 pounds.”

“I will do my best.” He took Buck’s hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “I’m really sorry for forgetting, okay? It’s pregnancy brain.”

Buck pursed his lips at that, fighting against a smile. He waited a few seconds before responding. “Taking vitamins should help with that.”

“I’ll look into it while I’m at the store.” He squeezed Buck’s hand again, until Buck finally looked over at him. “We okay?”

Buck rolled his eyes, but nodded. “We’re okay. Can’t stay mad at you when you’re having my kid.”

*****

“Tommy, I- I need you to wake up.” Buck fought against the tears filling his eyes. He cleared his throat, sucking in a breath. “I- We’re here, okay? We’re all here waiting on you t- to wake up. I- Everyone is out in the waiting room b- because I wanted a minute.”

Buck scooted his chair closer to the hospital bed, staring down at their interlocked hands. “I love you, Tommy. We all love you so much. I- I know you know that already. I know you don’t want to be in here.”

Tommy’s chest rose and fell evenly with the help of the ventilator.

“They said th- the other driver was drunk. They weren’t hurt though, of course. But… But, Tommy, you’ve been through worse. You survived a helicopter crash. So you’ve got this. I know you do.”

He leaned down and kissed over Tommy’s knuckles, bruised and scabbed over, dried blood still present. Buck had worked so hard trying to get it all off.

“The others will be coming in soon, but if, um, if you can hear me, I… the baby needs you too.” Part of Buck felt stupid. Bringing up a joke like this right now would get him some looks from his family, for sure. But he didn’t care. It was just the two of them, and if it helped bring Tommy back, he’d make the joke every hour on the hour. “Size of a peach, ya know? All this stress is- isn’t good for her. Yeah, I decided it’s a her. At least for now. Wake up for us, Tommy. Please.”

~

It took three days for the ventilator to be removed.

And another day for Tommy to open his eyes.

But after some groggy hello's and a few sips of water, he reached out for Buck, who wasted no time being by his side.

“H… How’s baby?” Tommy asked, voice raspy.

Buck smiled, a tear falling down his face. He ignored the confused glances from everyone else in the room. “She’s fine, Tommy,” he said, running a hand through Tommy’s hair. “And so are you.”

*****

Tommy was going to throw up. He’d never been so nervous in his life.

Everything that could go wrong, did.

This was actually supposed to have happened two weeks ago, but one disaster after another got in the way.

So now they were at a last minute venue, with no catered food, no floral arrangements, barely any guests, and tuxedos that somehow got altered wrong and were two inches too short.

But none of that scared Tommy. Not as much as standing up in front of the people who were there, with the love of his life standing across from him, knowing he was going to become a blubbering mess the second he tried to say his vows.

A knock on the door shook him out of his panic. “Come in.”

“Hey.” Buck’s voice was quiet and calm. Tommy wondered how in the world those roles got reversed. “I could hear you freaking out from the other room.”

Tommy walked right over and practically fell into Buck’s arms. “I’m gonna screw this up.”

“Wh- What are you talking about?”

“I- I’ve been practicing my vows,” Tommy replied, moving back just enough to look at Buck, “and I start crying every time. I can’t help it. I’m gonna be a mess up there and ruin it.”

Buck cocked his head to the side, looking as fond as ever. “We’re both going to be messes up there, Tommy. Not just you.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had this much anxiety in my life, and we’ve done some pretty insane things.”

“Yeah, we have,” Buck agreed. “But I know one thing I’m not nervous about.”

Tommy bit at his lip, “What’s that?”

“Marrying you.”

“Oh,” Tommy breathed out. “I’m not nervous about that either.”

There was a beat of silence before Tommy continued. “Maybe it’s the baby.” He smirked, puffing out his stomach. “He’s making me nauseous.”

Buck smiled, patting Tommy’s stomach before pulling him back close. “We’re getting married, Tommy.”

There were the nerves again. “I know.”

“No, I mean, we’re getting married. I don’t care if you forget every word you were going to say up there. I love you, and you love me, and we’re getting married.”

Tommy nodded, sighing in relief. The anxiety drained from his face. “Yeah. That’s… Yeah. I love you so much, Evan.”

Buck leaned in, pressing a kiss to Tommy’s lips. “Now let’s go get married before you go into labor.”

[lunajay33]

Too Young

Summary: Pre Apocalypse, you’re Daryl’s secret girlfriend and you find you’re self in a predicament at a young age

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

•Masterlist•

Looking down at the positive pregnancy test my heart is racing, how could this have happened we were always so careful the few times we were together, no body knew of our relationship, too scared of what his brother and father would do, and what my family would think as they thought the Dixons were scum

Daryl always treated me like a angel from the moment we met on our first day of school and over time we grew closer than just friends and now here I am pregnant

What will he think? Will it be too much and he’ll leave? Should I just rip the bandaid off and just tell him to get it over with before my anxiety runs rampant? Yes I think that’s best

We already had a date to met at our usual spot at the dock along the lake, I get in some shorts and one of his hoodies and make my way, the pregnancy test in my pocket, feeling like a brick

As I get closer I see him stood at the end waiting for me, as he hears me approaching he turns and his face brightens immediately and it kills me this might be the reason everything will change between us, I feel my lip wobble and I wrap my arms around his waist feeling him hold me close

“Angel what’s wrong, ya okay?” I shake my head pulling back looking up at him

“I……I don’t wanna tell you, promise you won’t leave me D” he looks panicked now never seeing me like this before

“Ya know I wouldn’” he brushes my hair back and I can’t help but lean into his touch

“I thought we were careful but……I’m pregnant” he goes completely still and just stares at me

“Please say something” I suck in a sharp breath feeling faint as my knees shake

“It’ll be okay” he whispers pulling me back in, we sit in silence on the dock for an hour as he just holds me

•

“Should we tell people? Nobody even knows we are together” I say quietly still scared of I talk too much he’ll run away

“Why don’t we run away”

“We can’t Daryl, we have family and no money and I’m scared, my family will be mad at first but they’ll still help us”

“Will they after they know yer carrying a Dixon?” He lifts an eyebrows knowing how my family isn’t fond of his

I sigh placing my hand where a bump will soon be

“I don’t want you to resent me when we get older and you feel stuck to me and the baby, I don’t wanna become our parents”

“Ya never could get rid of me, we’ve been eachothers from the moment we met and this baby ain’t changin that”

“We can figure this out right?”

“It’ll be fine Angel, I love ya”

“I love you too Daryl”

•

It’s been 3 months and we still haven’t told anyone too scared of what could happen but he’s been extra sweet to me, bringing me wild flowers when we meet, extra touchy always wanting to hold my hand or just be able to have his hand somewhere on me like he was protecting me incase anything happens

I woke up this morning looking in the mirror and I’ve finally popped my bump was showing through my shirt a little more obviously a baby and not just fat

I pulled on Daryl’s hoodie again because it’s my favorite thing to wear like I always had him there with me, covering my bump as best I could I walk out into the living room and my parents and brother are sat on the couch quietly

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know why don’t you tell us?” My dad says shooting daggers at me

“I…..what?”

“Merle Dixon had a lil chat with me and told me you’ve been messing around with his brother, that right?” My brother asks and I feel like my world is starting to crumble

“I wanted to tell you guys but you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel about them, but Daryl’s nice to me he cares about me”

“Don’t be so stupid sweetie he’s only using you” my mom says condescendingly

“He’s not like Merle or his father, he’s kind you know I wouldn’t be with someone like Merle” they all laugh in my face and I can’t take it, I run to my room packing a bag and leaving running out the front door before they could stop me and going straight to Daryl’s

I get to the trailer house and knock anxiously playing with my fingers

“And what’s a fine piece of ass like ya doin here” merle answers making me scoff

“Where’s Daryl” he opens the door wider and lets me in, I make my way to his room thankful his dad isn’t here, seeing him laid on his bed, I close the door behind me and slump down next to him

“Hey sunshine what’s goin on?”

“Merle told my brother that we’re together, my parents know I can’t be there anymore” he runs his hand up and down my arm calming me

“Dumb ass, imma kill him”

“What’re we gonna do?”

“I have an aunt down south, she’ll take us for a bit she’s a nice woman”

“Are you sure” he nods packing a bag and taking my hand leading me out to his truck

“We’ll be okay, I promise”

[aewon]

the shift

jungwon x fem reader genre: smut MDNI!!!! wc: 3593 warnings: e2l kinda, ice hockey player jungwon (just mentioned), manager reader, mentioned other members, mentioned chaewon( she’s my go to clearly lol), jungwon’s just annoying to reader, virgin reader, dick sucking, pussy eating, multiple orgasms (2 each), fingering, flirty jungwon, cursing obv, if there’s anything else lmk

note: this is a rewrite of a fic that i had on @/wonkizz, it’s not great but it’s better than what i had og so :p the smut isn’t great but oh well also not proofread so

The university’s ice hockey team was golden, and it was all thanks to Yang Jungwon.

The team’s captain had spent long hours training to make sure the team was efficient in every category.

And now, their hard work paid off as they had landed a spot in nationals against one of the hardest teams to beat.

They’re not worried, they know the team is good, but they’re better.

Normally, you’d praise a team for being confident in their skills, but you think they’re just damn cocky.

It’s even worse considering the fact that Jungwon has taken an unknown liking to you, the team's manager.

Why are you their manager? Because you needed the credit for a class and it was the only thing available.

Back to Jungwon.

The guy is infuriating. He flirts with you constantly, teasing you and messing with you. It’s annoying and no matter how much you tell him to stop, he never does.

With the amount the two of you bicker back and forth, you’re surprised you haven’t been fired yet.

Now, in terms of nationals, it’s an away game, which means a trip to another state. As their manager, that means you have to go too.

You curse every being out there at the fact that you have to go, but what can you do?

It’s 6:00 am when you arrive at the meet up spot on campus. Coach Shin, the head (and only) coach, is already there with the small bus set up for you and the team to take.

The boys aren’t here yet, no surprise there. They always like to be late, for whatever god given reason they have.

“Those boys, I swear they give me a headache every single fucking day,” Coach Shin complains. You can only nod along with his sentiment, scrolling your phone with no real purpose.

6:15 rolls around and oh thank heavens! Here they come in Jay’s beat up car that he loves to call his baby regardless of its status.

Jungwon doesn’t waste a moment, coming to your side and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Did you sleep well, pretty?”

You push his side, trying and failing to get him off you.

“No, unfortunately I didn’t. But I’ll be taking the chance to catch up on my sleep on the bus.”

“Oh?” He inquires, “And what exactly made it not so good? Did something keep you up? Or…someone?”

You push him harder, scowling as he laughs at your face.

Although you finally managed to free yourself from him, the thought of being stuck on a bus with him for 6 hours does not please you.

Coach Shin gathers everyone on the bus, choosing to sit near the front while the boys sit in the back.

You put in your headphones, playing your music on low while the bus departs.

As you leave campus, and eventually your town, your eyes begin to flutter.

They eventually shut and you fall asleep.

When you awaken, your head isn’t resting on the window like it was when you left. Instead, it’s resting against something softer, something moving.

You open your eyes, looking up to see Jungwon’s face centimeters from yours.

You shoot up, realizing your head was resting on his shoulder.

“Sleep well?” He asks, scrolling through his phone like nothing.

“Why are you here?” You ask, trying to create space between your bodies but failing miserably.

“You looked lonely, so I decided to keep you company.”

“Well I wasn’t, if anything you interrupted me.”

Jungwon pouts mockingly, “That’s not very nice. I tried to be kind and this is how I’m repaid?”

“And how exactly do you want to be repaid?”

He takes the opportunity to slide his arm around your waist, squeezing your side, “I could think of one way.”

You grab his arm, gripping his wrist tightly and taking it off you, “As if!”

The whole team begins to laugh at your expense.

You sit there, planning on how to kill Jungwon in your head while he goes back to his original seat, smirking.

You look down at your phone, realizing 4 hours have passed. You sigh in relief, only 2 more hours to go.

Those 2 hours pass somewhat quickly, and you’re parking at your hotel before you know it.

As you get off the bus and gather your things, the sun shines down on you.

It’s blue skies and sunshine in this state, and you wish for nothing more than time to relax.

Coach Shin gathers you all in the hotel lobby, checking in and handing you room keys.

“Naturally you’re all paired with someone, except Y/N.”

“Don’t tell me she gets a room to herself,” Heeseung complains, making the others start to complain as well.

Coach Shin raises his hand, “Don’t start! Of course she has a room to herself, idiots!”

The boys grumble on their way up to the hotel floor.

You check into your room, throwing your bag on the small couch and sitting on the bed eagerly.

You pull out your phone, texting your friend Chaewon.

You: we just checked in :p

Chae 🐯: has jungwon annoyed you much?

You: of course he has but it’s whatever ig 🤥

Chae 🐯: yall gotta like…fuck it out or smth atp

You: EW no why would i do that

Chae 🐯: because the tension is crazy!!!

You: the tension is made up in your head 🙂‍↕️

Chae 🐯: WHATEVER what are you gonna do now

You: i think we’re getting lunch or smth and then idk

Chae 🐯: well keep me updated

You: yeah yeah 😑

You turn off your phone just as there’s a knock on your door.

Coach Shin stands there, “We’re headed to lunch, are you ready?”

You grab your purse with your hotel key, wallet and phone.

“Yes, let’s go!”

The boys are already waiting by the elevator for you, and you all cram inside and head downstairs to the dining hall.

Once seated, you order fettuccine with shrimp scampi while everyone else gets some sort of beef or chicken. They’re all protein freaks, always talking about getting in more of it everyday.

Lunch goes by with little to no conversation between you and any of the boys, no surprise there.

Although you do make conversation with Coach Shin about nationals and how the boys need to play if they want to win.

Not that it really interests you.

You couldn’t care less if they win or lose.

Everyone is given time off to do whatever they want once lunch is over.

You choose to head to the hotel pool to finally relax, and maybe even tan a little.

You put on your bathing suit, and head to the pool with the same purse you brought to lunch.

Surprisingly, there’s no one around.

You sit back on your towel and relax, letting yourself soak up the sun that beats down on you.

But of course, you can never have anything to yourself.

Within 15 minutes of your relaxation, you hear an agitating noise come from the entrance by the pool.

You look up and see the boys, all in their swimsuits, heading your way.

You groan, “Oh Jesus Christ! Can’t a woman get one fucking minute of peace!”

They all look at you, grinning mischievously. They know! They know damn well!

“You don’t own the pool,” Sunghoon says knowingly.

“No shit I don’t own the pool, but you knew I’d be down here to relax and now I can’t!”

“We’ll be quiet, swear,” Jake says, crossing his fingers over his heart.

You sigh, laying your head back down, trying to get back into your relaxation mode.

That was a damn lie.

Within 5, no! 4 minutes, they’re making noise. So much noise it could wake up the dead. Splashing, yelling, cursing, you name it they’re doing it!

Nobody else seems to be bothered because no one comes out to tell them to shut up, so it’s just you and them. Them, overjoyed and you, annoyed.

You want to bang your head against the nearest wall when you hear Jungwon’s voice call out to you, “How’d you know blue’s my favorite color?” He asks, referring to your bathing suit.

“I didn’t,” you respond. “I didn’t wear this for you!”

He puts his hands up in mock surrender, “If you say so. You should come in, the water feels great.”

You look down at the blue water, and back up at him repeatedly. “I’d rather not, it looks cold.”

“Oh come on,” he whines, “it’s not! See for yourself.” With that, he sends a big splash your way, dousing the bottom of your legs with water.

You curse at the cold temperature, Jungwon now laughing hysterically along with the other guys.

You get up before you know it, and send a big splash that douses the entirety of them in one sitting.

They all look at you in shock, Jungwon especially as if he isn’t the one who started it.

“No fair! I didn’t wanna get my hair wet,” Sunghoon complains.

“Well that’s too bad now isn’t it,” you retort, hands on your hips.

Before you can say anything further, Jungwon is out of the pool, lifting you up in his arms.

You didn’t realize how strong or broad he is.

As your hands find his shoulders to hold onto, you begin to panic, “What are you doing? Put me down!”

“Nope, now you’ve done it,” Jungwon says smiling, and then without another word he throws you into the pool.

You hit the water with a big splash, the boys all cheering as you’re now just as soaked as them.

You come up, looking at Jungwon in pure shock and somewhat horror.

“You…you’re so dead!”

Jungwon shrugs, “Guess I’m dead then.”

You spend the next half hour playing with the boys in the pool.

By the time you get back to your room, you’ve tired yourself out.

After showering and changing, you take a long nap.

Once you awaken, the clock next to you reads 7:00 pm.

You order dinner for yourself and eat while watching the latest show on Netflix.

By 7:30 you’ve finished your meal and are relaxing when there’s a knock at your door.

Jungwon stands there, freshly showered too.

“Hi,” he says, albeit somewhat awkwardly.

“Hey, do you need something?”

“I wanted to talk, if that’s alright?”

You step aside, letting him in, “Sure, what about?”

“Us,” he says.

You stand there confused as he sits on the edge of your bed.

“What about us?” You ask.

“I felt like there was a shift today, when we were having fun earlier. It felt…different. Having fun with you instead of arguing with you. It was nice.”

“I agree, it was nice Jungwon. I liked seeing that side of you that doesn’t constantly annoy me.”

You didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh, but it does.

But instead of looking hurt or offended, Jungwon just smirks, “But do you realize why I annoy you?”

You shake your head.

“It’s because I like you, stupid.”

You take a second to take in those words. I…like…you? He likes you?

“You mean like, romantically?”

“Yes Y/N, romantically.” He chuckles, sweeping his hair out of his eyes.

You stand there, not knowing what to do.

“Why…why do you like me?”

Jungwon seems caught off guard by that question.

He thinks for a minute before answering,

“I like how passionate you are with everything you do. Even with hockey, we know you don’t really like it but you still do your best as our manager regardless. I like your laugh and your smile, even when they’re not directed at me. I like how clumsy you are sometimes. I like how your tongue sticks out when you’re concentrating on something. I like everything about you, Y/N.”

You feel your heart beat faster as Jungwon speaks, taking in his words and his feelings with care and kindness rather than disgust or disdain.

“Jungwon, I didn’t know you really felt that way.”

“I don’t expect you to feel the same. I just wanted you to know. And I thought maybe, maybe we could try something. I could take you out? See how you feel about that?”

You don’t know what switch inside you went off, but the thought of a date with Jungwon, after today’s events, doesn’t seem so bad.

“I’d actually like that. I’d like that a lot.”

He perks up and it’s oh so cute.

You finally find the courage to sit next to him on the bed, brushing your hand against his.

He looks into your eyes, for any signs of discomfort.

When he doesn’t find any, he leans in, pressing a delicate kiss against your lips.

It only lasts a few seconds, but it’s breathtaking nonetheless.

“Jungwon?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me again.”

He does as he’s told, pressing his lips against yours harder this time.

You reciprocate the kiss, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, your hands finding the base of his neck and playing with the hair at the nape of it.

Your lips move in sync, creating more passion as it goes.

Jungwon moves, his hand that was resting on the bed comes forward to rest on your waist.

His tongue presses against your lips and you open your mouth, giving him access.

Your tongues move together, the kiss becoming more and more heated as time goes on.

Jungwon’s hand comes to rest on your arm, lightly pushing you down so you're resting on the bed, his frame coming to hover over you.

You separate, lightly gasping for air as you look into each other’s eyes.

“Tell me you want this as much as I do,” Jungwon says, practically pleading.

“I want this, Jungwon. I want you.”

Jungwon dives back in, trailing kisses down the front of your neck, to the exposed part of your chest.

His fingers find the hem of your shirt, “Can I take this off?”

“Please.”

He pulls it up, over your head.

His large hands find your breasts immediately.

His fingers tug and twist your nipples, making your back arch up off the bed.

He leans down, taking your left nipple into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around it as you moan in pleasure.

“Fuck Jungwon, that feels…” you trail off, not able to finish your sentence as he switches to the other nipple.

He trails kisses down your stomach, until he reaches the waistband of your shorts.

“Wait,” you say, and Jungwon stops immediately.

“What is it? Are you uncomfortable?”

“No, no. I just… I wanna take care of you first.”

“Y/N you don’t have to—”

“But I want to. Although, I’ve never done this before, so you’ll have to guide me.”

“You’re a virgin?”

You nod, taking your lip between your teeth.

“That’s okay, pretty, I’ll guide you.”

Jungwon gets up and takes his own shirt off, revealing what you saw earlier but weren’t paying attention to.

His broad shoulders, toned chest and lean torso.

You could drool, he’s so your type.

Your attention is taken by him shrugging his pants and boxers down.

You get down on the carpet in front of him, anticipating.

His cock is already hard. It stands at attention, long and girthy but not too much.

You have to admit, you’ve done some research online in anticipation of this moment. You just hope you don’t fuck it up.

You spit into your hand, lathering it on his cock, listening to him hiss as your cold hand meets the warmth of his skin.

The tip is blaring red, evident of how much he wants this.

You stroke him a few times, just to start.

Then, you slowly take him into your mouth, starting just with the head.

You suck on it, tasting the precum he’s been leaking.

Then you take more of him into your mouth, avoiding your teeth as much as you can.

“God, it seems like you already know what you’re doing, where’d that come from huh?” You know he’s teasing but you feel a responsibility to answer genuinely.

You pull off of him slowly, “I may have done some research about this kind of thing before.”

You smile up at him, watching as his mouth opens in slight shock.

“Ah, so my pretty girl isn’t as innocent as she looks?”

His hand comes up to grab the back of your head, not forcing you but simply as a guide.

You take him back into your mouth, holding what won’t fit in your mouth.

You begin to bob your head, stroking what doesn’t fit.

You think you’re doing a good job, if Jungwon’s moans mean anything.

“Just like that, pretty girl,” he says.

You use the hand that’s stroking him and twist it slightly as you go, creating a solid rhythm.

The sounds of you sucking his cock turn him on so much, he thinks he could cum from that alone, but that plus the pleasure he’s feeling being Jungwon closer to orgasm than he’d like to admit.

Within just a few minutes, he’s close.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, pretty. Where do you want it?”

You pull off slightly but keep the tip in your mouth, sucking on it, indicating you want him to cum in your mouth.

Jungwon thinks he’s a goner, as he cums in your mouth, painting your throat white while he moans loudly.

As he comes down from his high, panting softly, he helps you up from the floor, before turning you around and pushing you back against the bed.

“It’s my turn to please you.”

As you sit up against the pillows, his fingers find the waistband of your shorts, “Can I take these off?”

You nod, watching as his eyes come in contact with your bare pussy.

“No underwear? Naughty girl.”

You’re already soaking wet, your arousal painting your folds and making them glisten in the dim lighting of the room.

“Fuck, you look so pretty. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, baby,” Jungwon says, taking a gentle finger and rubbing it against your folds.

You jerk at the contact, whining as his fingers slide through them.

“Are you gonna make me feel good, Wonnie?”

He groans at the cute nickname, “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

With that, he leans down, taking your clit directly into his mouth.

You gasp, arching off the bed as Jungwon sucks on it.

His fingers play with your folds as his tongue swirls around your clit, playing with it.

“Oh my god, Jungwon!”

Fingers soaked in your arousal, he slowly eases one finger inside you, being as gentle as he can.

You whimper at the intrusion. It doesn’t hurt but it’s uncomfortable.

“I know pretty, I know,” he comforts you, thumb rubbing your clit making you feel just as much pleasure.

He goes back to sucking on it, tongue gathering all your slick and swallowing it eagerly.

“You taste so good, I’ll get addicted.”

He slowly thrusts and curls that finger inside you, the uncomfortable feeling being replaced by pleasure.

Your moans fill the room, your hands coming up to grip Jungwon’s hair.

“That’s right baby, hold onto me,” he says, encouraging you.

As he sucks on your clit, he inserts another finger, curling them repeatedly, stretching you open.

Minutes pass and you can feel the band in your stomach tighten, “I’m gonna cum, Jungwon, fuck!”

“Cum for me, pretty,” he says, as you cum all over his tongue and fingers.

He takes it all in, swallowing your release and watching in amazement as it coats his fingers, more and more spilling out.

He leans forward, lips meeting yours as you taste yourself on him.

“You ready for my cock?” He asks and you nod, spreading your legs further.

He runs his cock up and down your pussy, coating it in your release, before slowly pushing inside you.

Your breathing gets slightly heavier at the feeling of fullness, but it’s a good feeling.

He pauses, giving you all the time you need to adjust.

After a minute, you tell him to move and he wastes no time in thrusting into you at a rhythmic pace.

Your mouth is permanently forced open at the feeling of his thrusts.

The power and precision is just right, making you feel like you’re floating.

“Fuck Jungwon, it feels so good,” you whine, hands gripping his biceps.

“That’s all I could ask for, pretty girl.”

You feel him so deep inside you, it’s mad. It feels so good, something you’ve never felt, nor do you want to feel this with anyone else.

“Fucking me so good, god I love it.”

“Yeah, you love this cock?”

“Fuck yes, I love it!”

His thumb comes to rest on your clit, rubbing deep circles on it, causing you to moan even louder, until you’re practically screaming his name.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck I’m gonna cum Jungwon please don’t stop!”

“Me too, fuck where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside please, I want it so badly.”

He groans into the side of your neck, leaving featherlight kisses against it.

His thrusts become erratic, hitting places so deep, you didn’t know they existed.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” you whine, releasing all over Jungwon’s cock as he does the same inside you.

Both of you ride out your highs on his slowing thrusts, until he eventually comes to a stop.

As you look into each other's eyes, Jungwon can’t help but smile, “So, about that date.”

AEWON 2025

[seospicybin]

COCKY.

CHAPTER III

Bangchan x reader. (s,f)

Chapters: Chapter I / Chapter II

Synopsis: As a researcher developing a specialized condom in extra large sizes, you never expected the company’s product manager, Chris, to volunteer as a test subject—let alone for things to get this complicated. Balancing professionalism with undeniable chemistry, you must navigate a partnership that’s strictly business… or so you keep telling yourself. (21,2k words)

Author's note: Congratulations on making it to another week! Hope Cocky Chris can help you to unwind and pls share your thoughts after ♡

The second the elevator doors slide open, you storm back into your lab, your heels clicking against the tiled floor with a little more force than necessary. The door swings shut behind you, and you take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down. The last thing you need is for your team to see just how frustrated you are.

Chris’s words from the meeting echo in your head. Your product needs more time to fully develop as a whole product. His voice had been calm, professional—like he wasn’t just throwing a wrench into everything you had worked for. Like he wasn’t completely undermining you in front of the board.

You rub your temples, inhaling deeply. You don’t understand. You thought he would support you. He’d been testing the product, giving feedback—participating. You thought you were on the same page. So why?

Your team is scattered around the lab, focused on their own tasks, oblivious to the storm brewing inside you. Jane is nowhere to be seen, probably still caught up in meetings or schmoozing with the higher-ups after her own product launch. For once, you’re grateful she’s not here to take one look at you and start asking questions.

You sit at your desk, pulling out your notes, trying to focus on something—anything—other than the sharp sting of betrayal sitting heavy in your chest.

But no matter how much you try to push it away, all you can think about is Chris. And how he went against you.

-

As expected, Jane bursts into the lab with her usual energy, her eyes scanning the room until they land on you. “Hey! So, how’d it go?” she asks, striding toward you with a bright, expectant grin.

You don’t even look up from your desk. “It was great—until Chris decided to sabotage me.”

Jane stops mid-step, blinking at you. “Wait, what?”

You slam your notebook shut and finally meet her gaze, frustration boiling over. “He went against me, Jane. Chris. He told the board that my product ‘needs more time to develop.’” You throw your hands up, exasperated. “What does that even mean? We’ve done the tests, the results are solid, and we’re more than ready for production. But no—he had to make it sound like we’re not ready. Like I’m not ready.”

Jane raises an eyebrow, stepping closer. “That doesn’t sound like Chris.”

You scoff. “Well, it happened. And now the board is hesitant. They decide to push back production because of his input. I’m screwed.”

Jane crosses her arms, tilting her head in thought. “Did he give any reason? Like, why he thinks it needs more time?”

You shake your head, still fuming. “Not really. Just some vague statement about it needing to be fully developed. He didn’t even look at me when he said it.”

Jane purses her lips, watching you carefully. “Huh.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “What?”

She shrugs. “I just think it’s weird. Chris has been involved in this project. He knows how much work you’ve put in. If he really thought it wasn’t ready, he would’ve talked to you about it first, wouldn’t he?”

That’s what’s been bothering you the most. Chris didn’t say anything to you beforehand—no warning, no indication that he had doubts. Just blindsiding you in front of the board like it was nothing.

“I don’t know,” you mutter, leaning back in your chair. “Maybe I was wrong to trust him.”

Jane watches you carefully, then smirks. “Or maybe there’s something else going on.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please. Not everything is some big mystery, Jane. Sometimes people just suck.”

Jane laughs, shaking her head. “If you say so.” She places a coffee cup on your desk. “Here. You look like you need this.”

You sigh, taking the cup and mumbling, “Thanks.”

But even as you sip your coffee, Jane’s words linger in your mind. Or maybe there’s something else going on.

As you bury your face in your hands, your phone vibrates on the desk. You sigh, already feeling exhausted, and glance at the screen. The caller ID makes your stomach flip—Chris Bang.

Jane notices your hesitation. “Speak of the devil,” she mutters.

You inhale sharply before answering. “Hello?”

“Come to my office,” Chris says, his voice steady, unreadable.

You grip the phone tighter. “I’m busy.”

A pause and then he says, “It won’t take long.”

You want to argue, to throw his words from the meeting back in his face, but something about his tone makes you bite your tongue. Instead, you sigh. “Fine.”

The call ends before you can say anything else.

Jane raises an eyebrow. “Well?”

You roll your eyes, grabbing your notebook and pushing back from your desk. “He wants to see me.”

“Ooooh, sounds serious,” she teases, but when she sees your expression, her smirk softens. “Hey. Just… don’t go in there ready to bite his head off. See what he has to say first.”

You scoff, but deep down, you know she’s right. Still, you can’t shake the frustration burning in your chest as you make your way to Chris’s office.

-

You push open the door to Chris’s office without knocking, not caring about formalities right now. He’s seated at his desk, fingers laced together as he watches you step inside. His expression is unreadable, but his posture is relaxed—too relaxed for someone who just sabotaged your presentation.

You close the door behind you and stand facing his desk. “You called me, Mr. Bang?”

Chris sighs, leaning back in his chair. “You’re upset.”

You can't keep your composure anymore and let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, you think?” You take a step closer, trying to keep your voice even. “I expected the board to be skeptical. I expected questions, concerns—but I didn’t expect you to be the one who held us back.”

Chris doesn’t react immediately. He studies you, like he’s choosing his next words carefully. “I didn’t hold you back.”

“Then what do you call it?” you snap. “You had the chance to vouch for me. For the project. Instead, you basically told them it’s not ready.”

“Because it’s not ready.” His tone is firm, unwavering.

You scoff, shaking your head. “Unbelievable.”

Chris stands up then, rounding the desk to stand in front of you. “I get that you’re angry. But I need you to trust me on this.”

You meet his gaze, heart pounding with frustration—and something else, something you don’t want to acknowledge. “Give me one good reason why I should.”

Chris doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he moves to the door, turning the lock with a quiet click. The sound sends a strange thrill down your spine, but before you can react, he’s walking back toward you.

His hands find your elbows, firm but not forceful, keeping you in place as he looks down at you. “I didn’t say what I said in there to hurt you,” he says, his voice low. “I said it because I know you can do more.”

You glare at him, frustration still simmering beneath your skin. “More? Chris, I’ve put everything into this project.”

“I know.” His thumbs brush your arms, a soothing gesture you don’t want to acknowledge. “But I also know you. You’re not just here to make condoms for guys with big dicks. You’re better than that. Smarter than that.”

You open your mouth to argue, but he steps closer, tilting his head to catch your gaze. “Look at me,” he murmurs.

Reluctantly, you meet his eyes. They’re steady, unwavering. “I trust you,” he says. “But do you trust me?”

Chris waits, his eyes searching yours, his hands still resting on your arms. He leans in ever so slightly, just enough that you can feel the intensity of his eyes, and for a moment, you feel yourself slipping—drawn in by the heat of his gaze, the quiet intensity of his presence.

But then reality crashes down on you. You remember the meeting. You remember the way he spoke against your project in front of everyone, blindsiding you when you thought he’d be on your side. The frustration in your chest flares up again, and before you can fall any deeper into his gravity, you quickly turn your head away.

“I have work to do,” you say, stepping back, slipping out of his hold. You don’t dare look at him as you move toward the door, your heart pounding. “If that’s all, I’ll be going.”

You don’t wait for a response. You unlock the door and slip out, leaving him standing there in his office, alone.

-

For the next couple of days, you bury yourself in work, but the irritation from your last encounter with Chris still lingers. Every time you think about the meeting, about the way he blindsided you, your blood boils all over again. You tell yourself to let it go, to focus on your research, but the frustration simmers beneath the surface.

Just as you’re lost in thought, the door to your lab swings open, and Han walks in, grinning as usual.

"Guess what time it is," he announces, setting down a cup of coffee and a small paper bag on your desk.

You sigh as you run your hand though your hair. "Is it the time already?"

Han chuckles, pulling out a chair and plopping down across from you. "Don't tell me you forgot about our date?" he corrects, handing you the coffee. "Anyway, I brought a little treat to commemorate the occasion. Cheesecake. I figured I should end our time together on a sweet note."

Despite yourself, you smile. Han’s presence is a welcome distraction from everything else weighing on your mind.

“Thanks,” You mutter before taking a sip of the coffee he brought, you set down your tablet and get ready to dive into the final part of his product testing feedback.

Han occasionally sips his coffee, but his sharp eyes stay locked on you. He tilts his head slightly, studying your face with a look of quiet curiosity before setting his cup down.

"Something’s bothering you," he states, not even phrasing it as a question.

You glance up from your tablet. “Is it that obvious?”

Han leans forward on the table and tilts his head to the side. "Tell me. Who hurt you, baby?”

You rub your temples, feeling the stress of yesterday creeping back in. Han waits patiently, sipping his coffee as if he has all the time in the world. That alone makes you want to talk—it’s rare for someone to actually listen without immediately offering their opinion.

Taking a deep breath, you finally start. “Last Monday was supposed to be the big presentation. I went in there with my team, ready to prove that our product was good to go. We had the results from our test group—82% of participants reported positive experiences. Sure, it’s not perfect, but it was enough to show that this could work.”

Han hums, nodding along. “And...?”

“They were considering it. They were actually talking about approving it for production,” you say, voice tight. “But then he spoke up.”

Han doesn’t need you to say who he is. “Is it the guy with the intense vibe?”

You nod, gripping your coffee cup a little too hard. “Chris, of all people, the product manager, basically told them it needed more time. That it wasn’t ready. That I could do more than just this.”

Han frowns, setting his cup down. “And you didn’t see that coming?”

“Not at all!” you exclaim. “I thought if anything, he’d be on my side. He knew how much effort I put into it. But instead of backing me up, he basically told me I wasn’t enough—like my work wasn’t enough.”

Your frustration is boiling over now, and Han lets you vent without interruption.

“The worst part? He said it like he trusted me. Like he was pushing me because he believed in me. What kind of twisted logic is that?”

Han lets out a low whistle. “Damn. That’s rough.”

You shake your head, leaning back in your chair. “I don’t even know if it’s worth doing this anymore. What’s the point if the person in charge is just going to keep moving the goalpost?”

There’s a beat of silence before Han speaks again, his voice calm but firm. “So you’re telling me you’re just gonna give up? Just because of one guy?”

You pick up your pen and bring your clipboard closer to you while trying to push down the bitterness that still lingers from that day. “Let’s just start on the interview.”

Han narrows his eyes as he watches you, arms crossed over his chest. “You sure you’re even in the mood for this interview?”

You let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head. “Honestly? No. I really don’t feel like working today.”

He grins, as if he expected that answer. “Then why don’t you just skip?” he suggests so casually that you blink at him in surprise. “Come on. Go out, have some fun. Forget about work for a while.”

You hesitate, fingers fiddling with the edge of the papers. “Skip work?”

Han nods, completely unfazed. “Yeah. What, you’ve never played hooky before?”

You chew on your lip, torn between responsibility and temptation. You should be focusing on your project, on fixing what went wrong—but the idea of just leaving, of walking out and not thinking about Chris or the board or your stupid presentation, is suddenly way too tempting to ignore.

Without another thought, you push back your chair, standing up as you yank off your lab coat and toss it onto your chair. “Fine,” you say, crossing your arms. “Where are we going?”

Han’s grin stretches wider. “Oh, I definitely know a place.”

-

The city is scintillating under the afternoon sun as you and Han stroll through the streets, the heat of the day warming your skin. Brunch is the first stop—a cozy little café where he insists on ordering the most extravagant pastries on the menu, just to see which ones make you scrunch your nose.

“You have terrible taste,” you tell him as he bites into a cream-filled croissant with far too much enthusiasm.

After brunch, the two of you wander into shops, browsing through everything from designer boutiques to random trinket stores. Han has a habit of picking up the most ridiculous items—a sequined cowboy hat, a neon pink fanny pack—just to model them in front of you, making exaggerated poses.

“Be honest,” he says, adjusting a pair of oversized sunglasses on his nose. “I look hot, don’t I?”

You snort. “I need a drink to find you attractive.”

Han gasps, clutching his chest as if you’ve wounded him. “Wow. Brutal.” Then, his expression turns thoughtful. “Well, bars aren’t open yet… but I do have drinks at my place.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Oh, so that’s your plan? Get me drunk in your apartment?”

Han doesn’t even try to deny it. “Absolutely,” he says with a cheeky grin.

You burst out laughing, shaking your head at his shamelessness. “Fine. Lead the way, Casanova.”

Han grins, tossing an arm around your shoulders as he steers you toward his place. “Now this is what I call quality product testing.”

Han’s apartment is surprisingly neat, with a warm and lived-in feel. The shelves are stacked with comic books and figurines, and a collection of vinyl records sits beside a turntable in the living room. You wander over, scanning the titles while Han disappears into the kitchen.

“You actually listen to these, or are they just for decoration to make you seem cool?” you tease with a sly smile, running a finger along the spines of the records.

He returns from the kitchen with two glasses of hard liquor, handing one to you. “I’ll have you know, I’m a man of taste,” he says, feigning offense. He picks a record and slides it onto the turntable, the soft crackle of vinyl filling the air before smooth, jazzy notes spill from the speakers.

You take a sip of your drink, letting the warmth spread through you as the two of you start moving to the rhythm. Han, being Han, doesn’t keep it simple for long—he breaks into a ridiculous routine, wiggling his arms and shaking his hips like he’s auditioning for a variety show.

You burst out laughing. “What the hell are you doing?”

He grins. “Enjoying myself.”

Still chuckling, you play along, mirroring his moves in exaggerated fashion until you’re both breathless from laughter. Then, suddenly, he takes your hand, pulls you close, and spins you into a slow dance.

Your bodies sway together, the mood shifting effortlessly. His arms wrap loosely around your waist, his touch warm and steady. His eyes lock onto yours, playful but unreadable. And then, just as easily as he jokes, he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips.

It’s light, fleeting—like he’s testing the waters. But the second it happens, an image of Chris flashes through your mind. His voice, his touch, the way he looked at you in his office just the other day. Your body stiffens, your grip on Han’s shirt loosening.

You slowly pull away from Han, your fingers slipping from his shirt as you take a step back. “I—uh, I need a minute,” you mutter, avoiding his eyes. “Bathroom?”

Han blinks, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but he nods and gestures toward the hallway. “Bathroom’s down there. First door on the left.”

You don’t waste time, slipping inside and locking the door behind you. Pressing your palms against the cool sink, you take a deep breath, your mind racing. Why did I think of Chris? The kiss had nothing to do with him, yet his face, his touch, his words—all of it came rushing in, uninvited.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. Your gaze drifts around the bathroom to find something to distract you, your eyes land on the slightly open drawer beneath the mirror. Idly, you tug it open, rummaging through the contents without much thought—until your fingers brush against something familiar.

The box of condoms you had given Han for testing sits there, three packs still untouched. You pick it up, flipping it over in your hands, your mind now shifting gears. Without thinking too hard about it, you grab the box and head back to the living room.

Han is crouched by the record player, swapping out the vinyl, but when he sees you standing there, he pauses, his brows furrowing in mild concern. “Hey, you okay?”

Instead of answering, you flash him a sly smile and ask, “You know what time is it?”

He smiles but curiosity filled his dark brown eyes. “What?”

You lift the box of condoms slightly, letting it dangle between your fingers as you say, “It’s time for the hands-on research.”

Han’s lips twitch into a smirk, his eyes flicking from the box to you. He pushes himself up from the floor, stepping closer to you with that playful glint in his eyes. He reaches for the box in your hand, but instead of taking it, he wraps his fingers around yours, tugging you gently toward him.

"You sure about this?" he asks, his voice lower now, less teasing, more serious.

You inhale sharply, feeling the weight of his question, but you nod. "Yeah."

That’s all it takes. Han closes the distance, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss, his hands sliding to your waist. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver through you, and before you know it, your hands are tugging at his shirt. He chuckles against your lips, stepping back just enough to let you pull it over his head.

"This is a first for me," he muses, his fingers slipping under the hem of your top, pushing it upward.

You blink at him. "What do you mean?"

Han grins, nudging his nose against yours as he lifts your shirt off. "Daylight. Never done it with the sun out."

You pause for a moment, realizing the same thing. "Me neither."

Han hums in amusement. "Guess we’re about to check that off the list."

You laugh softly as his hands roam your bare skin, his touch igniting a slow burn inside you. Piece by piece, you strip each other down, the sunlight shining through the windows, painting golden streaks across your skin. The vulnerability of being so exposed in the daylight should make you feel shy, but with Han, it doesn’t.

He presses a lingering kiss to your shoulder before murmuring against your skin, “You look even better in the light.”

You smile at his compliment. “And you look... not bad,” you say, followed by playful giggles.

As Han presses you down onto the bed, his body flush against yours, his lips move against yours in a deep, slow kiss. His hands roam over your skin, touching and feeling, occasionally squeezing on the flesh. The warmth of his touch sends a thrill through your body, making you arch into him, wanting more.

When you pull back for air, your eyes drift over his physique, taking in the toned muscles of his arms, the lean definition of his torso, and the ink that decorates his skin. Your fingers reach out instinctively, trailing over the tattoo on his shoulder, feeling the slight difference in texture. Han watches you with a lazy smirk, amused by your fascination.

"You like them?" he asks, voice husky.

You hum in response, letting your fingers travel lower, following the ink down his ribcage. "I do. They suit you."

Han chuckles at that, shifting slightly to give you better access. "You should see the one on my thigh," he teases, winking at you.

You roll your eyes but smile as you bring your lips to his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss against the tattooed skin. Han's breath catches, and he instinctively tightens his grip on your waist. You keep going, trailing kisses along the curve of his shoulder, down to his collarbone, taking your time to feel him with your lips.

Not to be outdone, Han follows suit, his lips ghosting over your skin in slow, lingering kisses. He moves down your neck, his breath warm and tickling, before pulling back to look at you with eyes filled with something deeper than just lust. There’s admiration there, fondness, and something playful, too.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he murmurs, fingertips brushing over your sides.

You arch an eyebrow. “How so?”

Han grins, leaning in to nip at your lower lip before whispering, “Because you make me want to keep you all to myself.”

His words linger in the air, charged with something unspoken as his hands slowly trail down your sides. His fingers brush over your hipbones, teasing, testing, before one hand wraps around your thigh, pulling you closer against him. You can feel the heat radiating between you, the slow, tantalizing friction as he presses his hand on your sex.

Your breaths mingle as you both move in sync, hands exploring, discovering. His touch is firm yet careful as he lands his fingers on your bundle of nerves, his strokes slow at first, teasing, making you gasp against his lips. In response, your fingers trail lower until you find his swollen cock and wrap your hand around it, feeling the warmth, the way his breath stutters at the first touch. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, eyes fluttering shut as he exhales a shaky breath.

“God,” he murmurs, his voice thick with pleasure. “You feel so good.”

The pace between you builds naturally, neither of you rushing, just taking the time to savor the way the other reacts. Han groans softly, his hips twitching slightly as your fingers tighten around his length, and in return, he sync his movements with yours, applying gentle pressures on your clit, making you shudder in his grasp. There’s an intimacy in it, beyond just the pleasure—it’s the way he watches your face, the way you both respond to each other, completely in tune.

His lips find yours again, swallowing your soft moans as the pleasure mounts between you. It’s intoxicating, the push and pull, the way you both chase after the same high together, bodies pressed close, hands on each other’s sex, moving in perfect rhythm.

Han groans against your lips as your other hand joins in, moving them in unison, fingers wrapping around him, stroking in sync. His breath is ragged, his body trembling slightly as he thrusts into your joined grip, chasing the pleasure that builds between you. His forehead presses against yours, his eyes dark with desire as he watches your movements, completely entranced by the way you touch him.

"Fuck, baby," he breathes out, his jaw tightening as he tries to hold himself back. "You're really trying to ruin me, huh?"

You smirk, giving him a gentle, deliberate squeeze, and he groans, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly as if to stop himself from losing control. Then, as if realizing just how close he is, he suddenly slows your hands, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Han leans in, capturing your lips in a deep, lingering kiss before pulling back just enough to smirk at you. "As much as I'd love to keep going, I should probably put that condom on before I—" he pauses, inhaling sharply as you teasingly stroke him once more "—burst."

His words make you chuckle, and he grins at you, eyes full of mischief as he reaches for the box beside the bed. You watch as he tears open the foil packet with his teeth, his eyes flicking up to meet yours with a playful glint. He rolls the condom over his length with practiced ease, smoothing it down before giving himself a teasing stroke. Then, with a smirk, he looks at you and wiggles his eyebrows.

"Think it's on securely?" he asks, feigning concern as he lightly tugs at the base. "Or should I call customer service for assistance?"

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head at his antics. "I am customer service, you dummy," you quip, reaching out to flick his arm.

Han chuckles, leaning over you, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before whispering, "Then I guess I’m in good hands."

He gently puts his body on top of you, planting his lips on yours again as he slowly positioning himself and in response, you spread your legs wider for him, letting him settling in between.

He props an elbow against the mattress, finding just the right angle to align his cock to your entrance. He gives it a few strokes before finally, pushing it in.

Low groans spilling out of his mouth as he sinks into you, his grip tightening around your hips as he pushes deeper. He moves slowly at first, letting you adjust, but when he looks down at you, his brows furrow in curiosity. “You okay?”

Your lips curl into a teasing smile as you stretch your arms above your head, feigning nonchalance. “Yeah,” you sigh dramatically. “Don’t worry. I’ve taken bigger before.”

Han freezes mid-thrust, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

You bite back a laugh at the mix of offense and disbelief on his face. “Just saying.”

A scoff leaves his lips before his expression morphs into something more devious. “Oh, okay. I see how it is.”

Before you can react, he suddenly thrusts forward, catching you off guard, and a loud gasp escapes you. He smirks. “What was that? Didn’t quite catch it.”

You glare at him, cheeks warming. “Shut up and start moving.”

Han clicks his tongue, clearly enjoying himself. “Say please.”

You groan in frustration, but before you can argue, he leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss. His hips begin to roll, picking up a steady rhythm, and soon, any witty remark you had is replaced by breathy moans.

“See?” he murmurs against your lips, his voice smug as his hands roam over your body. “Told you we’d have fun.”

You huff, pretending to be unimpressed, but the way your fingers dig into his back says otherwise. He chuckles, dipping his head to kiss the corner of your mouth before whispering, “Let’s see if I can change your mind about size, yeah?”

Han may tease, but when he moves, his touches are surprisingly gentle, his lips soft as they ghost over your skin. He’s still smiling, still throwing in the occasional joke between thrusts, but there’s something warm in the way he looks at you—like he genuinely enjoys just being here with you.

“Damn,” he breathes out, his forehead resting against yours as he moves. “You feel so good, I think I’m seeing my ancestors.”

You snort, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, grinning. “Then why is my great-grandfather giving me a thumbs-up right now?”

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “You’re so dumb.”

“Hey, you like it,” he says, punctuating his words with a slow, deep thrust that has you sharply inhale air. His eyes flicker with amusement when your breath catches. “See? You love it.”

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the giggle that bubbles out of you. It’s different from what you expected—less pressure, less intensity, just lighthearted fun wrapped up in warmth and pleasure.

In the next moment, he looks at you with this tenderness in his eyes and then, he leans in close, brushing his lips over yours before whispering, “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

His words make your heart stutter, and suddenly, the moment feels even sweeter. You cup his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss, letting yourself get lost in the rhythm of him—of this easy, unexpected comfort.

Between the shared laughter and soft moans, it feels less like a conquest and more like something simple, something warm. Something that, for now, just feels good.

-

Through the window, the golden hues of the setting sun looks magnificent, casting a soft glow over the room. You’re tangled together under the sheets, your head resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His fingers trace lazy patterns on your bare shoulder, and every now and then, he presses a soft kiss against your temple, your hair, your forehead—anywhere he can reach.

“You’re so quiet,” he murmurs, tilting his head down to look at you. “Did I wear you out that much?”

You scoff and playfully elbow his side. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He chuckles, then shifts slightly, his lips trailing from your temple down to your cheek, then to your jawline. He pauses, his breath warm against your skin before he dips lower, pressing a teasing kiss to the crook of your neck.

You shiver at the sensation, but just as you start to relax into it, he suddenly blows a raspberry against your skin. “Han!” you shriek, jerking away with a laugh. “Stop that!”

But he only grins mischievously, wrapping an arm around you to keep you from escaping as he does it again—this time nibbling lightly before blowing another raspberry. You squirm in his arms, half laughing, half protesting. “You’re the worst!” you gasp between giggles.

He hums, pretending to consider. “Mmm, but you like me anyway.”

You glare at him through your laughter, and he grins before pressing a much softer, lingering kiss against your neck.

“Alright, alright,” he says, finally relenting. “I’ll stop—for now.”

You let out a breath, still smiling as you settle back into his embrace. Outside, the sky shifts from warm golds to dusky purples, and for a moment, everything just feels… easy. Comfortable.

And as Han idly runs his fingers through your hair, you find yourself wondering how a simple afternoon turned into this—wrapped up in warmth, in laughter, in him.

As the last traces of sunlight fade into the evening sky, you run your fingers through Han’s hair, gently brushing it back from his forehead. His eyes flutter shut at your touch, a contented hum vibrating in his chest.

“You’re gonna put me to sleep like this,” he murmurs, voice thick with drowsiness.

You smile, smoothing his hair again before giving it a playful tug. “Not so fast. You still owe me dinner.”

His eyes peek open, a lazy grin spreading across his lips. “Oh? I do?”

“Yeah,” you say matter-of-factly. “I skipped work today, wasted my precious energy entertaining you, and now I’m starving. It’s only fair that you buy me dinner.”

Han gasps dramatically. “Wasted your precious energy?” He places a hand over his chest like you’ve wounded him. “I’ll have you know, that was a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

You roll your eyes, but your stomach betrays you with a low grumble. Han snickers, clearly pleased with himself.

“Alright, okay,” he relents, stretching his arms above his head before sitting up. “What do you want? Something fancy? Something greasy? Or something that’ll make us question our life choices after we eat it?”

You chuckle. “I like the sound of the last one.”

Han grins. “Instant regret it is.”

He lands a long kiss on your lips before getting up, swinging his legs off the bed and starts pulling on his sweatpants, and you do the same, shaking your head at his enthusiasm. It’s not exactly how you expected your day to go, but somehow, you don’t mind at all.

-

Seated at Han’s small dining table, you poke at your takeout with your chopsticks, watching as he slouches in his chair, looking far too comfortable in just his sweatpants. Meanwhile, you’re drowning in one of his oversized sweaters, the fabric slipping off your shoulder every time you move.

Han takes a big bite of his food, humming in satisfaction before glancing at you. “You’re really not gonna put pants on?” he teases.

“You’re one to talk,” you counter, raising a brow. “Besides, this is more comfortable.”

He grins. “Fine, but if you steal that sweater, I’ll know.”

You ignore his threat, chewing thoughtfully before asking, “So… how was the performance?”

He nearly chokes on his food. He grabs his drink, gulping it down before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Damn,” he laughs, shaking his head. “You just wanna jump straight into performance reviews, huh?”

You blink at him. “Yeah… why not?”

He leans back in his chair, grinning for ear to ear. “Well, if you ask me, I think I did a solid job. Great rhythm, nice pace, perfect execution. I mean, if I had to rate it—”

“Oh my God,” you groan, throwing a sauce packet at him. “I was talking about the condom performance, not yours.”

He gasps, feigning offense as he dramatically clutches his chest. “Oh. So my performance isn’t important?”

You roll your eyes, but a laugh slips out.

Han seductively winks at you and confidently says, “I know you like it.”

You shake your head, chuckling. “Alright, seriously, though. How was the product? Any complaints?”

He hums, twirling his chopsticks between his fingers. “No complaints. It’s comfortable, does the job, doesn’t slip. And…” He shoots you a mischievous look. “It didn’t ruin the mood, so I’d say that’s a win.”

You nod, mentally noting his feedback. “That’s good to hear.”

Han grins. “And in case you were wondering, you did great too.”

You groan again, but you can’t help the heat rising to your cheeks. “Just eat your dumpling, Han.”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying your reaction, before taking another bite, looking far too pleased with himself. He chews thoughtfully for a moment before casually adding, “If I had to say one thing, I kinda wish it was thinner.”

You pause mid-bite, looking at him. “Thinner?”

“Yeah.” He leans back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s comfortable and all, but if it were just a little thinner, I feel like I could… you know, feel you more.” He smirks, his gaze flickering over you with something undeniably teasing.

You narrow your eyes at him, but your brain is already running with the idea. “A thinner material…” you murmur, tapping your chopsticks against your bowl.

Han watches you, curiosity piqued. “You’re really thinking about this now?”

“Well, yeah,” you say, sitting up straighter. “If we can make the material thinner while maintaining durability and elasticity, it could enhance sensitivity and comfort. It might actually improve the overall experience for users.”

Han chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re literally fresh off a test run, and you’re already planning upgrades?”

You shrug. “That’s how innovation works.”

After dinner and two glasses of wine, you return to the bedroom. As you slip into your clothes, Han leans against the doorway, arms crossed, watching you with an amused smirk.

“You know,” he muses, “there are still two packs left. Might as well be thorough with the testing.”

You huff a laugh, shaking your head as you adjust your sweater. “It’s getting late, Han.”

“So stay,” he tries again, stepping closer. “Leave in the morning. I make a killer breakfast.”

You laugh while smoothing down your skirt. “I'm sorry but I have to tell you that this is the end of the product test and we won’t see each other again.”

Han tilts his head, unconvinced. “I highly doubt that.”

You roll your eyes, but a chuckle escapes you. “You’re cute.” Then, without thinking too much about it, you lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips. He hums into it, chasing after you when you pull away.

With a lazy grin, he says, “Well, if you ever need a booty call—”

“Now, I highly doubt that,” you cut him off with a playful tease, grabbing your bag.

Han watches as you make your way to the door, still smiling. “Love finds a way, you know,” he calls out after you.

Shaking your head, you turn back for a final glance. “Goodbye, Han.”

He lifts a hand in farewell, and with that, you step out, leaving behind both the product test and the man who helped make it a very memorable one.

-

It's another day at work, another day of burying yourself in your notes, scribbling down ideas for product improvements when Jane bursts into the lab with a dramatic sigh.

“You know,” she starts, plopping down on the nearest chair, “I’m starting to think you love work more than me.”

You glance up, raising a brow. “Are you jealous of my research?”

“No,” she deadpans. “What I'm saying is you’ve been so busy lately, I barely see you anymore. I mean, I get it—scientific breakthroughs, saving the world one condom at a time, blah blah—but can you at least pretend to have a social life?”

You chuckle, shaking your head as you lean back in your chair. “I do have a social life. We literally went to your product launch.”

Jane waves you off. “That doesn’t count. That was work disguised as a party.” Then, narrowing her eyes at you, she leans forward. “Speaking of which… you never told me what happened after. You left with Chris that night, didn’t you?”

You freeze for half a second before playing it cool. “I went home.”

Jane’s eyes glint with mischief. “Alone?”

You clear your throat, pretending to be suddenly fascinated by your notes. “Why are you here again?”

She groans, throwing her head back. “Ugh, fine, I’ll let it go—for now. But seriously, let’s go out soon. You owe me drinks for neglecting me.”

You smirk. “Fine, but you’re buying the first round.”

Jane grins. “Deal.”

Later that night, you and Jane are seated at a bar, the warm buzz of alcohol settling in as you sip on your drinks. The music is lively but not overbearing, and for the first time in a while, you feel like you can actually unwind.

Jane stirs the straw in her cocktail before shooting you a look. “Alright, so tell me—what did Chris want when he called you to his office?”

You sigh, leaning back against the barstool. “He locked the door the moment I walked in.”

Jane’s eyes widen. “Ooh, now that’s how you start a story.”

You roll your eyes but continue, “Then he told me he went against the board because he believes I can do more. That I shouldn’t settle when I can create something even better.”

Jane hums, taking a sip of her drink. “And how did that make you feel?”

You hesitate, swirling the liquid in your glass. “Angry. Frustrated. Conflicted.” You exhale, shaking your head. “I mean, I get what he’s saying, but at the same time, I worked hard on this. He basically told me it wasn’t good enough.”

Jane tilts her head, considering your words. “But was he wrong?”

You blink at her, taken aback. And then, Jane shrugs. “Look, I know you. You hate doing things halfway. If Chris is saying you can do more, maybe it’s because he knows you actually want to.”

You purse your lips, not quite ready to admit that she might have a point. Instead, you take a long sip of your drink.

Jane smirks knowingly. “So… what else happened in that office?”

You give her a dry look. “I left.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Jane whistles, shaking her head. “Damn. If a man locked me in his office, I would’ve at least—”

“Jane.”

She cackles, raising her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay! But seriously, what are you going to do now?”

You let out a breath, staring at the ice in your glass. “I don’t know yet.”

Jane squints at you over the rim of her glass, then smirks. "By the way, you skipped work the other day."

You glance at her warily. "And?"

"And I want to know what you were up to," she says, wiggling her eyebrows. "Come on, spill."

You hesitate for a moment, but Jane is relentless, leaning in with eager curiosity. With a sigh, you finally admit, “I went out with Han.”

Her eyes widen in delight. "Ohhh, this is interesting. You and Han, huh? What did you two do?"

"Nothing crazy," you say, taking a sip of your drink. "We had brunch, did some shopping, and then—"

Jane cuts you off with an exaggerated gasp. "And then?! Oh my god, don't tell me you slept with him."

You press your lips together, trying to suppress a smirk.

"You did!" she nearly shrieks, slamming her hand on the bar. "Holy shit, I knew there was something different about you! You got that after sex glow!"

You shake your head, chuckling at her reaction. "It was just… for the product test."

Jane snorts, nearly choking on her drink. "The product test? That has to be the best excuse I’ve ever heard."

"It's the truth," you say, half-laughing. "He was one of the participants, so technically, it was all part of research."

She gives you a deadpan look. "Yeah, sure. Research." Then her smirk returns. "So… how was it?"

You sigh dramatically. "Well, let’s just say… Han is very entertaining."

Jane bursts into laughter. "Oh, I bet he is." She nudges your arm. "And let me guess, he was totally cocky about it, too, wasn’t he?"

You roll your eyes and then crack a smile. "You have no idea."

She grins, taking another sip of her drink. "Damn, I really should’ve joined your project. It sounds way more fun than mine."

The two of you continue sipping your drinks and with more people crowding the bar, it is now buzzing with chatter and laughter. Then, out of nowhere, Jane sets her glass down with a determined look. "You know what?" she says, pointing at you. "You should prove Chris wrong."

You look at her, befuddled. "What?"

"You heard me." She leans in, eyes glinting with mischief. "You should prove to him that you can do more. That you can exceed his expectations."

You scoff lightly, swirling your drink. "Why should I care what he thinks?"

Jane raises a brow. "Oh, come on. If you really didn’t care, you wouldn’t still be sulking about it."

You open your mouth to argue but shut it again because—well, she’s not wrong.

Jane smirks, seeing your hesitation. "I mean, think about it. What better way to get back at him than to succeed? To improve the product so much that he has no choice but to approve it?"

You exhale, considering her words. Then, your mind flashes back to Han’s comment during dinner—the one about wishing the condom was thinner so he could feel more. And suddenly, an idea clicks.

You straighten up. "That’s it," you say under your breath.

Jane tilts her head. "What’s it?"

You look at her, a slow grin forming. "I know what to do."

Jane claps her hands together. "Now that’s the attitude I like to see! Let’s drink to that."

You clink your glass against hers, a renewed sense of purpose bubbling inside you. Chris may have doubted you, but that only means one thing—you're going to prove him so wrong.

-

In your lab, you throw yourself into research, pouring over formulas, materials, and test results. Your determination fuels you, and over the next several days, you barely notice time passing as you and your team work tirelessly on improving the product.

And finally, after what feels like endless trial and error, the first batch of prototypes arrives. You stand in the lab, staring at the neatly stacked boxes on the counter. A rush of excitement and nervous energy courses through you. This is it—your hard work materialized into something tangible.

Jane walks in just as you’re inspecting one of the boxes. "Ooooh," she hums, coming up beside you. "Are those the babies?"

You smirk. "Fresh out of production."

She picks up a box, turning it in her hands. "Extra large and extra thin, huh? Impressive."

You chuckle, but you’re already thinking about the next step. The real test. "Now, I just need to find people to try them out."

Jane wiggles her brows at you. "I have a feeling you already have someone in mind."

Your smirk falters slightly. There’s one obvious choice, but after everything… should you?

There's the right way to do it. You could present the data, write up a full report, and talk to Chris about the improvements—but you don’t just want to talk about it. You want to show him. Prove it to him. Directly.

Without hesitation, you make your way to his office, determination set in your stride. You knock on the door and wait until your hear his permission to let yourself in.

When you step inside, Chris is flipping through some documents at his desk. He barely acknowledges you at first, but when he glances up and sees the look on your face, his brows lift slightly in curiosity.

“To what do I owe this surprise visit?” he asks, leaning back in his chair, one arm resting on the desk.

You don’t waste time. “Do you still want to participate in the product tests?”

Chris’s lips twitch into a smirk, intrigue flashing in his eyes. “And why are you asking?”

You hold his gaze, unwavering. “Please just answer. Yes or no.”

That only seems to amuse him more. He tilts his head, his smirk deepening as he stalls on answering. After a moment, he finally says, “Yes.”

You nod, satisfied. You pull out a card of a hotel and place it on his desk. “Meet me at this hotel. Saturday night.”

His brows lift at that, his eyes flicking over you as if trying to decipher your intentions. But before he can ask any questions, you turn on your heel and head for the door.

“See you soon, Mr. Bang,” you say, flashing him a polite, almost teasing smile before walking out.

As the door clicks shut behind you, you don’t look back—but you can practically feel his gaze following you, filled with intrigue and it only motivates you more.

-

On Friday afternoon, you find yourself standing outside Jane’s lab, hesitating for only a moment before pushing the door open. Jane is hunched over her workbench, her brows furrowed in concentration as she adjusts something under a microscope.

When she hears you step inside, she glances up, blinking in surprise. “Well, well, if it isn’t our overworked researcher gracing me with her presence.” She leans back, crossing her arms. “What brings you here? Need my genius expertise on something?”

You take a deep breath, feeling a little ridiculous but pushing through anyway. “I need your help with something… off the record.”

Her interest piques immediately. “Ooh, now you’ve got my attention. What kind of help?”

You shift on your feet, feeling the heat creep up your neck. “Shopping.”

Jane stares at you for a second before she bursts into laughter. “You, asking me for shopping help? This must be serious.”

You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Are you going to help or not?”

“Oh, I’m definitely helping. But I need details.” She narrows her eyes mischievously. “Is this for a date? A hot, steamy date?”

You roll your eyes. “It’s for… research purposes.”

Jane snorts. “Right. ‘Research.’” She grabs her coat from the back of her chair. “Come on, let’s get you something that’ll make your ‘research’ partner lose his mind.”

You shake your head, but you can’t help the small smile that creeps onto your lips as you follow her out.

In a brightly lit makeup store, you sit on a stool in front of a mirror while Jane enthusiastically swatches different lip colors on the back of her hand. She holds up two tubes, squinting at your face.

"Okay, bold red or soft nude?" she asks, tilting her head in deep contemplation.

You raise an eyebrow. "What exactly are we going for here?"

Jane grins. "Something that screams ‘I’m sexy, but I didn’t even try.’ You know, the effortless but deadly kind of look."

You huff out a laugh as she dabs a soft, peachy shade on your lips, then steps back to admire her work.

“So,” she starts casually, leaning against the counter. “This research… It’s with Han, isn’t it?”

You pause, eyes flickering to her through the mirror. Instead of answering directly, you smirk and say, “Does it matter?”

Jane gasps dramatically. “So it is him.”

You chuckle and reach for the lipstick tube, deciding to apply it yourself. “I never said that.”

“But you also didn’t deny it.�� Jane wiggles her brows, clearly enjoying this far too much. “I knew it. You totally went back for round two, didn’t you?”

You shake your head, amused. “You have a very active imagination.”

Jane watches you for a moment, then narrows her eyes. “Wait. Wait.” She suddenly grabs your arm, making you almost smudge your lipstick. “If it’s not Han… then who—”

You quickly shove a lip brush into her hand. “Focus, Jane. I need to look good.”

Jane watches you with a knowing smirk as you finish applying the lipstick, pressing your lips together to even out the color. She folds her arms, still leaning against the counter, clearly enjoying herself far too much.

“Well, whoever it is,” she says teasingly, “I hope your research goes well.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile playing on your lips.

Jane winks. “Good luck, professor. Make sure to take very detailed notes.”

You shake your head, laughing as you grab your bag. “I’ll see you on Monday, Jane.”

As you walk away, you hear her call out, “And I expect a full report on my desk by then!”

-

The low hum of jazz music fills the hotel bar, blending with the quiet murmur of conversation and the occasional clink of glasses. You sit at the counter, one leg crossed over the other, slowly swirling the drink in your hand as you wait. The deep red of your lipstick matches the rich hue of the cocktail, and you take a slow sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol settle in your chest.

You glance at the entrance, scanning the room for any sign of Chris. He’s late—not by much, but enough to make you feel the anticipation build. You check your reflection in the mirror behind the bar, ensuring everything is still perfect. The makeup, the dress, the air of confidence you carefully wrapped around yourself like armor.

And then, as if sensing your impatience, he finally arrives.

Chris steps into the bar, scanning the room until his eyes land on you. His expression shifts—something unreadable flickering across his face before he starts toward you. Even in the dim lighting, he looks effortlessly good, dressed in all black, his shirt fitted just enough to hint at the body underneath. You lift your glass to your lips again, watching him over the rim as he approaches. This time, you’re the one making him wait.

Chris finally reaches you, his presence demanding attention even in the dimly lit bar. He doesn’t sit right away; instead, he stands beside you, his hand resting lightly against the back of your chair as he takes in your appearance. His gaze lingers, sweeping from your legs crossed at the knee to the curve of your lips as you sip your drink.

"You clean up nice," he murmurs, amusement laced in his tone.

You seductively smile, setting your glass down. "I could say the same about you."

Chris finally takes the seat next to you, signaling the bartender for a drink. "So, are we going to pretend this is just another product test, or are you actually going to tell me why you invited me here?"

You tilt your head, feigning innocence. "Can’t I just want to have a drink with my product manager slash test subject?"

Chris chuckles, shaking his head. "You don’t do things without a reason." He leans in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. "So, what’s the real reason?"

You hold his gaze, letting the tension settle between you before answering. "I told you I wanted to show you something," you say, tapping your fingers lightly against your glass. "But instead of talking about it, I figured I’d demonstrate."

Chris raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "You mean—"

You nod, finishing the rest of your drink before sliding off your chair. "Room’s already booked," you say casually, picking up your clutch. "If you’re still interested in participating... that is."

He doesn't say anything but takes the seat next to you, gesturing the bartender that he wants the same drink with yours. He is relaxed, one arm draped casually over the back of his chair, his fingers occasionally tapping against the glass in his other hand.

At one point, he swirls his drink, watching the amber liquid before glancing at you with a smirk. "I have to admit," he says, "I’m a little surprised you asked me to test the product instead of… the other guy."

You pause mid-sip, lowering your glass. "The other guy?"

Chris tilts his head slightly. "I saw you with him the other day," he says, his tone light, but there’s something unreadable in his eyes.

You blink, caught off guard. For a moment, you consider playing coy, but instead, you shrug. "And?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "No judgment. Just an observation." He leans in slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. "I just figured if you were looking for a test subject, you already had one."

You let out a soft laugh, setting your glass down. "What, jealous?"

Chris raises an eyebrow, lips curving into a knowing smirk. "Should I be?"

You meet his gaze, the challenge lingering between you. "That depends," you murmur, tilting your head. "Are you planning to fail this test?"

Chris huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Not a chance." He lifts his drink in a mock toast. "To scientific integrity, then."

You clink your glass against his, your smirk matching his. "To exceeding expectations."

-

As you and Chris step into the elevator, more and more people pile in behind you, filling the small space. The warmth of bodies and the low murmur of conversation surround you, but all you can focus on is Chris.

Without a word, he tugs you closer to his side, his hand resting on your lower back, fingers pressing just enough to make you feel his presence. You tilt your head slightly to glance at him, but he's already watching you, his dark eyes filled with wild glints.

Then, he leans in, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. "You look incredible tonight," he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine. "I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since I walked into that bar."

Your fingers tighten around the strap of your purse, heat creeping up your neck. You don't dare turn your head, knowing just how close your lips would be if you did. Instead, you let out a small exhale, keeping your gaze forward. "Good," you whisper back, just loud enough for him to hear over the hum of the elevator. "I dressed up for the occasion."

Chris chuckles under his breath, his fingers pressing just a fraction harder against your back. "Then I better make this worth your while."

The elevator dings as it reaches your floor, and as the doors slide open, Chris guides you out with a firm hand on your waist. The air between you feels heavier now, thick with anticipation. Neither of you say a word as you walk down the hall—but you both know exactly where this night is headed.

Arrived at hotel room 0810, you slide the keycard into the door, and with a soft beep, it unlocks. Pushing it open, you step inside first, Chris following close behind. The moment the door clicks shut, sealing you both in, he speaks.

"You don’t look nervous," he observes, his voice casual yet laced with something deeper, something almost teasing.

You turn to him, raising a brow. "Should I be?"

His lips curling into a small, knowing smile. He doesn't answer—just watches you, his gaze dragging over your face, down to the way your dress hugs your body. The silence between you stretches, thickening, until the tension becomes almost unbearable.

You break it first. "So," you say, crossing your arms, "should we get started? Or do you need some... encouragement?"

Chris exhales a quiet chuckle, stepping closer. "Oh, I think I’ll be just fine," he murmurs, his eyes flickering with amusement and something darker.

The energy shifts. The air feels warmer, heavier. You hold your ground as he closes the distance, your pulse picking up as you realize—this is really happening. He closes the space between you, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you flush against him. His warmth seeps through the fabric of your dress, and you feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours.

He leans in, his lips barely brushing yours, but he doesn’t kiss you—not yet. Instead, he lingers, reveling in the closeness, in the way your breath hitches, in the way your body naturally molds against his. His fingers flex at your waist, as if memorizing the shape of you all over again.

A quiet sigh escapes him. "I missed this," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the admission is something fragile, something real.

And then, finally, he closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft at first, almost hesitant, like he’s savoring the moment, like he’s waited too long for this to rush it. The kiss deepens gradually, his lips moving against yours with a slow, intoxicating rhythm, his hands tightening their hold on you as if grounding himself to the moment.

You place your hands flat on his chest and steering his body toward the bed, he barely has time to react when you suddenly push him, catching him off guard as he stumbles back onto the bed. His hands press into the mattress, propping himself up as he looks up at you with a mix of surprise and intrigue. His tongue swipes over his lower lip, his smirk playful yet laced with anticipation.

You stand there, letting the moment linger, letting his gaze rake over you. The weight of his stare sends a shiver down your spine, the way he looks at you—like he’s already undressing you with his eyes.

Tilting your head to the side, you exhale a slow, teasing breath. “You know what? I’ll give you some encouragement anyway.”

Then, you reach for the zipper of your dress, sliding it down. The fabric loosens, slipping off your shoulders, gliding down your body until it pools around your ankle. You step out of it, standing in nothing but your silky lingerie, the dim hotel lighting casting shadows over your skin.

Chris lets out a quiet curse under his breath, his smirk faltering just a little as his Adam’s apple bobs. He shifts slightly on the bed, his fingers curling into the sheets as he watches you with darkened eyes. “Yeah,” he murmurs, voice rougher now. “That’ll do.”

You crawl onto the bed with deliberate slowness, letting the tension thicken between you. Chris stays where he is, watching your every movement with hooded eyes, his fingers crumpling the sheets as if holding himself back. The moment you hover over him, barely touching, you feel the way his chest rises and falls beneath you, his breath deep and steady, though you know he’s anything but calm.

Then, you lower yourself onto him, your body molding against his. A low hum vibrates in his throat when you shift, you intentionally rub your clothed core against the growing hardness beneath his slacks. His hands instinctively find your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin through the silky fabric of your lingerie.

Your lips find his again, slow at first—like savoring a taste you’ve missed. But as he deepens the kiss, his grip tightens, his body responding just as eagerly. You can feel the heat radiating between you, the steady friction sending sparks down your spine.

Chris pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, his voice thick with amusement and something deeper. “If this is your idea of encouragement, I might need a little more.”

In one swift motion, he suddenly flips you onto your back, pressing you into the mattress as he settles between your legs. The movement knocks the breath from your lungs, leaving you dazed for a second, but then his lips are back on yours, hungry and unrelenting.

His body presses firmly against yours, the heat between you growing unbearable as he moves, rolling his hips into yours in a slow, steady rhythm. Even through the layers of fabric, the friction sends a jolt through your core, and you can’t stop the soft sound that escapes your lips. Chris groans in response, his fingers threading through your hair as he deepens the kiss, swallowing every sound you make.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs against your lips before trailing kisses down your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. His movements never slow, each grind making you more desperate for something more, something deeper.

His hands roam down your sides, exploring, memorizing, teasing. “Tell me,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “is this enough encouragement for you, or should I keep going?”

You break the kiss to answer him. “More.”

Chris grins and then he pulls away just enough to kneel between your legs, his hands going to the hem of his shirt before tugging it off in one smooth motion. The bedside lamp casts soft shadows over the sculpted lines of his chest, his toned muscles shifting as he moves. He doesn’t say anything at first—just looks down at you, his gaze dark and intense, waiting.

Then, he takes your hands, guiding them to his chest, letting you feel the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. He doesn’t rush you, doesn’t demand anything—he simply lets you explore, his breath hitching when your fingers trail lower, tracing the ridges of his abs.

His lips curl into a smirk, but he doesn’t give you time to tease him about it. Instead, his hands move to the front of his slacks, undoing them with ease before pushing them down just enough to free his stiffening cock. The sight alone sends a wave of heat through you, but before you can react, he reaches for one of your hands, wrapping your fingers around him.

His sharp inhale is barely audible over the quiet hum of the room. “Now,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick, “do you think I’m encouraged enough, or do you need to convince me a little more?”

Instead of answering, your fingers tighten around his throbbing length as you begin slow, deliberate strokes, watching the way his jaw clenches at the sensation. Chris stays still at first, letting you set the pace, but his breathing grows heavier with each pass of your hand. His eyelids flutter briefly before he focuses on you again, his lips parting as if to say something, but no words come out—just a sharp exhale.

You tilt your head, feigning innocence. “Let me encourage you a little more,” you murmur, your thumb teasing the tip, spreading the pre-cum.

His hands fist into the sheets beside your hips, his muscles tensing as he fights the urge to move. “You’re—” He cuts himself off, sucking in a breath when you stroke him just a little faster.

You watch him unravel beneath your touch, the way his brows knit together, the way his hips twitch slightly as he nears his breaking point. Then, just as you feel him getting close, you suddenly stop, pulling your hand away with a smirk.

Chris snaps his eyes open, a mixture of frustration and amusement flashing across his face. He exhales a shaky laugh, licking his lips as he looks at you. “Oh, you think that’s funny, huh?”

He leans down to give you a hard, deep kiss, almost punishing. He groans against your lips as you use all of your strength to roll to the side, shifting your weight and pinning him beneath you. His hands instinctively find your waist, gripping you, but he doesn’t resist—if anything, he looks amused, his eyes flickering with intrigue.

“You're such a tease, you know what?” he murmurs, his lips curving into a smirk as he watches you.

You lean down, brushing your lips over his in a teasing kiss before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “I need to get the condom first,” you say, voice low but firm.

Chris exhales through his nose, his smirk deepening as his hands skim up your sides. “Responsible and a tease,” he muses. “You’re really making me work for this, huh?”

You give him a knowing smile before slipping off him, making your way across the room to retrieve what you need. Behind you, Chris watches your every move, his eyes dark with anticipation.

You end up taking your bag with you as you return to the bed, putting it down on the bedside table before taking a condom and holding it between your fingers. You pause for a moment at the sight before you—Chris, sitting up naked, waiting for you. His toned body is bathed in the dim hotel lighting, his muscles subtly flexing as he leans back on his hands, watching you approach. His eyes are dark with anticipation, a lazy smirk playing on his lips as he reaches out to take the condom from you.

But before he can, you pull your hand back slightly. “Let me put it on for you,” you say, your voice smooth, teasing.

Chris raises a brow, his smirk deepening. “Yeah?” he muses, clearly enjoying the idea. “By all means, then.”

You kneel in front of him on the bed, taking your time as you tear the package open, your fingers working deliberately slow just to watch the way his jaw tenses in restraint. You slide the condom out, meeting his gaze as you hold it between your fingers. His breath hitches slightly as you carefully roll it down his length, your touch light, teasing.

Chris watches you the whole time, his eyes flickering between your face and your hands. “You keep looking at me like that,” he murmurs, voice lower now, “and I might not last long enough to test this properly.”

You smirk, giving him a final slow stroke over the latex before meeting his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes. “Then I guess we better get started.”

He pulls you close, his lips crashing into yours with a slow but deep intensity. His hands wander, deft fingers working open your bra and pushing the straps off your shoulders before trailing down to slide your underwear down your hips. He takes his time, enjoying the way your skin feels under his fingertips as he undresses you completely, leaving you bare beneath him.

He kisses you again, softer this time, before shifting lower. His mouth leaves a warm trail down your neck, across your collarbone, and on each of your soft mounds, his lips pressing against every inch of exposed skin. When he reaches your abdomen, he lingers, placing slow, deliberate kisses along your stomach, his warm breath sending a shiver through you.

Your anticipation builds as he inches lower, his lips hovering over the most sensitive part of you, teasing, making you wait. You let out a shaky breath, your body reacting to his touch before he even fully gives in. And then, finally, he presses a soft, lingering kiss where you need him most, drawing a breathy moan from your lips.

Then, slowly, he slides his fingers up your thigh, trailing closer until he finally touches you. His fingertips press on your clit, exploring, testing, before slipping between your folds, his touch both delicate and deliberate.

He watches you closely, his eyes locked onto your face, studying every expression, every flicker of pleasure that crosses your features. His fingers move with slow precision, pumping in and out of you, pressing and curling just right, gauging your reactions, adjusting to what makes you shudder and sigh. His gaze darkens with satisfaction as he watches you come undone beneath him, utterly absorbed in the way you respond to his touch.

When he deems that you’re drenched enough for what’s next, he slowly withdraws his fingers, his touch lingering just enough to make you whimper at the loss. Holding your gaze, he brings his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste you. A satisfied hum rumbles in his chest as he licks them clean, his eyes never leaving yours, dark with something almost possessive.

Then, without a word, he shifts, settling himself between your parted legs. His hands slide up your thighs, spreading them further as he positions himself, his body warm and solid above you. He takes a slow, measured breath, his fingers gripping your hips, grounding both of you in the moment before he finally moves.

As Chris slowly pushes his cock inside you, he’s careful, his brows furrowed in focus. His hands tighten on your hips, his breath uneven as he inches deeper. But then—he suddenly freezes. His body goes rigid, his fingers twitching against your skin.

A moment passes before he lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours in what almost looks like disbelief. “Did you…” He swallows, his voice rough. “Did you make the condom thinner?”

You nod, watching the way his throat bobs as he exhales shakily. His gaze flickers downward to where your bodies are joined, and he lets out a deep, guttural groan. “Shit,” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut for a second. “I can feel you—like, really feel you.” His fingers dig into your hips as he lets out another quiet, almost tortured sound. “You feel too good—I need a second.”

A lazy smile tugs at your lips as you brush your fingers through his hair, letting the strands slip between your fingertips. “Take all the time you need,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, groaning lowly against your skin. His breath is hot, his lips brushing against your pulse, and for a moment, he just stays there, like he’s trying to regain control.

Chris lifts his head, his eyes dark and hazy as they search yours. Then, without a word, he leans down and captures your lips in a deep, lingering kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips to taste you. His grip on your hips tightens as he begins to move, his first thrust slow, almost experimental, as if he’s still trying to wrap his head around the sensation.

A low curse slips from his lips as he pulls back slightly before pressing in again, his brows furrowing. His gaze flickers downward, to his cock slipping into you, and then back up at you. “Are you sure you put it on?” he asks, his voice rough with disbelief.

You chuckle breathlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. “Positive.”

He groans, shaking his head, his pace gradually increasing. “Fuck, it’s so thin—Oh, I swear it feels like I’m not even wearing one.” His forehead presses against yours for a second, his breath hot against your lips. “I can feel you—every inch of you.” His words are almost a whisper, as if he’s too lost in the sensation to speak any louder.

His hands roam your body as he thrusts into you, his lips brushing over your skin, leaving soft, fleeting kisses. “You feel too good,” he murmurs, his voice thick with pleasure. “Too perfect for me.” His fingers dig into your waist, his movements growing more desperate, more intoxicated by the way your body molds against his. He groans your name, his lips tracing the curve of your jaw before capturing your mouth once more, swallowing the sounds you make as he completely loses himself in you.

The next thing you know, his thrusts become rougher, more desperate, his restraint slipping with every second that passes. His breath is hot against your skin, his body pressed so firmly against yours that there’s no space left between you. His fingers dig into your flesh, his pace relentless, driven purely by the overwhelming sensation of you wrapped around him.

Then, as if catching himself, he slows down just enough to look at you, his brows slightly furrowed. “Am I being too rough?” he asks, his voice husky, laced with concern despite the pleasure clouding his eyes.

Your lips part, but instead of answering immediately, you reach up, fingers threading through his damp hair as you tug him down for a kiss. “It’s nothing I can't handle,” you whisper against his lips, and a slow smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth before he kisses you again, deeper this time, as if sealing your words into him.

“Too good,” he groans, rolling his hips into you, each movement sending waves of pleasure through your body. “You feel too damn good—I don’t wanna stop.” His voice is rough, almost desperate, and the way he’s holding you, touching you, fucking you with such intensity—it’s like he’s completely lost in you.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your heated skin. His rhythm never falters, the weight of his body grounding you beneath him, as if he doesn’t want to let you go. And in that moment, it feels like nothing else exists except for the way he’s moving inside you.

A deep, shuddering groan falls out of Chris’s parted mouth as his release finally takes over him, his body trembling slightly as he collapses onto you. His weight is warm, solid, his breath still ragged against your skin as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. You gently run your fingers through his hair, holding him close as he takes a moment to gather himself, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

Neither of you speak for a moment, the only sound in the room is your steady breathing intertwined. You feel him place a lazy, open-mouthed kiss against your collarbone before he finally shifts, propping himself up just enough to pull away.

Immediately, he reaches down and removes the condom, tying it off with practiced ease before holding it up. Your gaze follows, and you can clearly see his release pooling inside. But what really catches your attention is when your eyes drop back down to him—because, despite everything, he’s still fully hard.

Your brows furrow as you look back up at him. “How…?” you murmur, clearly confused.

Chris follows your gaze, then looks down at himself before letting out a soft chuckle. “Guess I’m not done yet,” he says, flashing you that familiar cocky smirk, though there’s an edge of surprise in his own expression too.

You blink, still processing, before meeting his eyes again. “Is this normal for you?” you ask, suspicious.

He hums, tilting his head as if thinking about it. “Not usually this quick,” he admits, “but maybe…” He leans in, his lips brushing teasingly against yours. “Maybe it’s just you.”

You try not to let his words get to you, you look away as if looking at him will diminish the effect he has on you.

He twirls the tied-off condom between his fingers before casually tossing it into the trash. Then, he looks at you, eyes dark with something mischievous. “You know,” he murmurs, leaning in so close that his lips nearly brush yours, “we should probably run another test.”

A sly smile curls on your lips as you slowly push yourself up, pressing your palms against his chest to guide him back down onto the mattress. His eyes glimmer with intrigue as he lets you take control.

“Sure,” you simply answer, straddling him, the heat between your bodies reigniting. “But only if I get to be on top this time.”

Chris barely hesitates, his hands instinctively finding your waist. “Fair enough,” he murmurs, his voice already thick with anticipation.

You reach over to the nightstand, grabbing another condom from your bag. Holding it up between your fingers, you tilt your head and smirk.

“This isn’t just an extra-large condom,” you tease, tearing the wrapper open. “It’s extra thin, too.”

Chris watches you, his lips parted slightly, his chest rising and falling with anticipation. His hands rest on your thighs as you take your time rolling the condom down his length, your fingers brushing against him in a way that makes him impatient. Maintaining eye contact, you give him a few slow, teasing strokes, enjoying the way his jaw tenses, the way his hands tighten against your skin.

He exhales sharply when you shift, bracing yourself with your hands on his shoulders before you begin to lower yourself onto him. His grip on your hips tightens as you take him in little by little, the stretch making you shiver.

When he sinks too deep, you gasp softly and pause, catching your breath. Chris immediately holds you closer, one arm wrapping around your back, the other caressing your side. He presses his forehead against yours, his lips grazing against yours in a reassuring kiss. “Take your time,” he murmurs.

You nod, letting yourself adjust, your bodies staying connected, lips brushing, breaths mingling. The moment lingers, heavy with warmth and intimacy, before either of you dares to move again.

A moment later, you begin moving, rolling your hips against him, taking in every sensation as you feel his size inside you. His hands grip your waist, guiding your movements, but you set the pace—slow and deliberate at first, savoring the way he feels inside you.

Chris groans, his fingers pressing into your skin, his head tilting back against the pillow. "You feel too fucking good," he breathes, voice thick with pleasure.

You smile, leaning down to kiss him, your lips brushing his as you pick up the rhythm. Every drag of his cock inside you sends shivers through your body, making you crave more, need more. You let yourself get lost in it, chasing the pleasure without restraint.

Chris grips your hips harder, his breath coming out in short, ragged pants. "You're—" he groans, cutting himself off, his jaw clenching as he tries to hold himself back.

But you don’t slow down. If anything, you move faster, lost in the waves of your own pleasure. You tilt your head back, your hands splaying across his chest as you ride him, feeling your release creeping up on you.

Chris curses under his breath, his muscles tensing beneath you. "You're gonna—ah—make me lose it," he warns, his voice tight. His hands slide up your back, trying to ground himself, trying to keep control.

But you don’t stop. You chase your high, focusing on the fire pooling low in your stomach, on the pleasure building with every movement. You know he’s struggling, you know he’s holding on for you, but right now, you’re selfish. You need this. And Chris—he lets you take what you need.

-

The sun is shining brightly outside and it's only a little after eight. You sit by the small table near the window, dressed in the hotel’s robe, sipping on your coffee as you scroll through your phone. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries fills the air, a stark contrast to the heat and intensity of last night.

A sleepy groan comes from the bed, followed by the rustling of sheets. Chris shifts, his hair a mess of curls, his bare chest exposed as he blinks against the morning light. His gaze lands on you, and a slow, lazy smile tugs at his lips.

“Morning,” he murmurs, voice still husky from sleep.

You glance up from your phone as you take another sip of coffee. “Morning.”

Chris rubs the sleeps off his eyes before sitting up, squinting at the trays of food on the table. “You ordered breakfast?”

You glance at him and nod toward the food. “Figured you’d need it.”

He chuckles, stretching his arms over his head, muscles flexing as he lets out a satisfied sigh. “You’re not wrong.” He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands, walking toward you with an easy confidence. “You should’ve woken me up.”

You raise a brow, smirking behind your coffee cup. “Thought I’d let you sleep in after all the work you put in.”

Chris huffs a laugh, settling into the chair across from you. His fingers lazily reach for a slice of toast, tearing off a piece as he studies you. “So… do I get a performance review?”

You don't answer but hands him his glass of orange juice. “Better eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

As you both settle into breakfast, the comfortable clinking of utensils and the occasional sip of coffee filling the air, you decide to bring up the real reason you invited him here in the first place.

“So,” you begin, reaching for a piece of fruit, “about last night—”

Chris immediately smirks, his head tilting slightly as he chews on a bite of his croissant. “Oh? You wanna talk about my performance?”

You roll your eyes but quickly cut in before he gets the wrong idea. “The condom performance, Chris.”

He chuckles, setting down his coffee cup. “Right. The condom.” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thinks. “Well, I have to admit, it really is thinner than the previous version. Almost felt like I wasn’t wearing anything at all.”

You nod, pleased with his feedback. “That’s exactly what I was aiming for. And no issues with fit or durability?”

Chris shakes his head. “Nope. Fit was perfect, no slipping, no breaking, and,” he pauses to shoot you a playful grin, “clearly, it held up well despite extensive testing.”

You fight the amused smile threatening to show. “Good to know.”

Chris wipes his mouth with a napkin and adds with a teasing lilt, “Since we’re giving reviews, though, I think I should also mention your performance.”

You hold your hand up, stopping him. “No one wants to hear it.”

“Oh, I insist.” His grin widens as he leans forward, resting his arms on the table. “Exceptional technique, great stamina, responsiveness was off the charts—”

You throw a piece of toast at him, which he dodges with a laugh. “Please, stop.”

He only smirks, taking another sip of coffee. “Just giving honest feedback. Five stars. Highly recommend.”

You shake your head, but you’re unable to hide your small smile as you sip your own coffee.

Chris wipes his mouth with a napkin and leans back in his chair, watching you with a look that’s softer than before. “You know,” he starts, swirling his coffee, “I was right about you.”

You raise a brow, setting your cup down. “Oh? And what exactly were you right about?”

He smirks but there’s something proud in his gaze as he says, “That you can do more.” He nods toward you, his expression sincere. “You didn’t just meet expectations—you exceeded them.”

A warmth spreads through your chest at his words, but you play it cool, leaning back in your chair. “I had to prove a point,” you say, taking another sip of coffee.

Chris chuckles, shaking his head. “That you did. But let’s be honest, you didn’t just do this to prove me wrong.”

You glance at him over your cup, giving him a cryptic smile. “Maybe...”

He rubs his chin and looks at you like he’s trying to figure you out. “Maybe...” he repeats the word with a sly grin blooming on his face.

The weight of his words lingers between you, and for the first time in a while, you feel something settle inside you—a quiet sense of accomplishment, knowing that you really did do more.

-

Monday morning arrives, and you’re back in the lab, already deep into reviewing your notes when Jane bursts in, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She doesn’t even bother with a greeting—just leans against your desk with her arms crossed, looking at you expectantly.

“So,” she begins, dragging out the word. “How did the ‘research’ go?”

You don’t even look up, keeping your focus on your notes. “Good morning to you too, Jane.”

Jane scoffs. “Oh, don’t even try to deflect. You disappeared all weekend, and now you’re back looking suspiciously… accomplished.”

You finally glance up, giving her a flat look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jane gasps dramatically. “So secretive! Which means it must’ve been very successful.” She leans in closer, lowering her voice. “So? Was it Han or Chris?”

You almost choke on nothing. “What?”

Jane grins like a cat who caught a mouse. “You heard me. Did you finish what you started with Han, or was it…?” She trails off, eyes widening when she sees the slight twitch in your expression.

You press your lips together, shaking your head. You refuse to let anything slips out of your mouth but Jane is too smart to not catch it first.

“Oh. My. God.” She claps her hands together. “It was Chris, wasn’t it?”

You blink your eyes one too many times. “I didn’t say that.”

She practically vibrates with excitement. “Okay, tell me everything—was it hot? Was it awkward? Did the prototype work?”

You exhale in defeat, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You realize I’m not going to give you every detail, right?”

Jane groans, flopping into the chair across from you. “Fine, fine. Just… was it worth it?”

A slow smirk plays on your lips as you close your notes. “Let’s just say… the research was successful.”

Jane gasps, pointing at you. “I knew it!” She then leans forward, resting her elbows on your desk, her eyes practically sparkling. "You know, I kind of guessed something was going on between you and Chris," she says, tilting her head. "And now, I'm right."

"I'm not talking about this at work," you state firmly, turning back to your notes.

Jane groans dramatically. "Ugh! Just a little teaser? A tiny detail?" She wiggles her fingers as if trying to pry the information out of you telepathically.

Before she can push further, the door to your lab opens, and Chris steps inside. You immediately straighten in your seat as he walks in, looking calm and composed, though you catch the subtle twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips.

"Morning," he greets, his eyes flicking between you and Jane.

Jane wastes no time to greet him back with such enthusiasm. "Good morning, Chris! I was just here to ask someone about her weekend," she says, shooting you a pointed look.

You see Chris suppress a smile as he casually strolls over to your desk. "Is that so?" he muses, his tone neutral but knowing.

Jane raises a brow at both of you before smirking. "Should I leave you two alone?"

Chris chuckles, shaking his head. "No need. I'm just here to inform that," he says, then turns to you. "I spoke with the board, and they’ve agreed to a meeting with you this Thursday. Be ready for it."

Your eyes widen slightly. "Wait, really?"

Chris nods. "They’re interested in hearing more about your product improvements. Make sure you’re prepared."

You nod, already running through what you need to put together for the meeting. "Got it. Thanks for letting me know."

Jane watches the exchange with narrowed eyes before breaking into a knowing grin. "Hmm. Very professional, you two," she teases.

Chris smirks but says nothing, and you shoot Jane a warning look before she can say anything else. He gives you a small nod, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Good luck," he says simply, his voice laced with quiet confidence.

You meet his gaze, feeling an odd sense of reassurance from his words. "Thank you. I'll be ready."

He lingers for a moment as if he wants to say more, but aware of Jane’s presence so instead, he just gives you a final look before turning and leaving the lab.

As soon as the door shuts behind him, you feel Jane’s eyes burning into you. "You two are so obvious," she finally blurts out, leaning in closer with a knowing grin.

You sigh, gently massaging your temple. "Jane—"

"Fine, fine! I’ll focus on you for now," she says dramatically, throwing her hands up. "Because you, my dear, have an important task ahead of you."

You nod, already feeling the weight of responsibility settle in. "Yeah, I have a lot to prepare before Thursday."

Jane claps her hands together. "And you will succeed this time!" she declares.

You chuckle at her enthusiasm, shaking your head. "You sound more confident than I do."

"Because I am!" she says proudly. "This is your chance to prove yourself, and I know you’re gonna nail it. You’re brilliant, and your work is solid. The board would be stupid not to see that."

Her encouragement makes you smile, and for the first time since Chris mentioned the meeting, you feel a spark of excitement instead of just pressure.

"Thanks, Jane," you say sincerely.

"Anytime," she replies, slinging an arm around your shoulder. "Now, let’s get to work. You’ve got a company to impress!"

-

Your heart is still racing as you step out of the meeting room, the adrenaline from the meeting pumping through your veins. You exhale sharply, your hands gripping the folder of notes as you replay the last hour in your mind. The back-and-forth discussion, the sharp questions, the skeptical glances—followed by that unmistakable shift in the room when they started to really listen. Your proposal had landed.

The nerves haven’t quite settled yet, but there’s something else bubbling beneath the surface—excitement. Relief. Pride.

As you make your way back to the lab, you take a deep breath, grounding yourself. You did it. Now, all that’s left is to wait for the final decision.

The moment you step into the lab, Jane is already there, perched on your workstation with an eager glint in her eyes. "Well?" she asks, barely giving you time to set your things down. "How did it go? Did they love you? Are we celebrating? Should I start ordering drinks now?"

You exhale, running a hand through your hair. The meeting had been intense—filled with tough questions, skeptical expressions, but also moments where you knew you had them intrigued.

You glance at Jane, who is practically vibrating with anticipation. Instead of answering right away, you take your time removing your blazer and adjusting your sleeves.

"Let me guess," Jane continues, dramatically drumming her fingers on the desk. "They were blown away by your brilliance. Chris was all proud, standing there like ‘See? I told you she’s a genius.’ And now they’re going to mass-produce your condom and name it after you."

You snort, finally sitting down. "Okay, first of all, no to that last part. Second—" You pause for effect. "—they liked it."

Jane lets out a victorious squeal. "I knew it! Oh my God!" She grabs your shoulders and shakes you lightly. "I told you, didn’t I? I told you this was your moment!"

You laugh, the weight on your shoulders finally easing a little. "It’s not finalized yet, but they’re considering it for the next phase."

"Which means it’s basically a yes," she says, grinning. "Ugh, I’m so proud of you."

Something about her enthusiasm makes you realize just how big this is. You really did it. All the work, the long nights, the stress—it’s paying off.

Jane suddenly gasps, pointing a finger at you. "Wait, does this mean you’ll finally let yourself have fun now?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Define fun."

She smirks. "Drinks. Tonight. No excuses."

You shake your head with a smile, but before you can answer, your phone buzzes on the desk. You glance at the screen and see a text from Chris.

Please meet me in my office when you’re free.

Your heart does a weird little flip. Jane notices immediately. "Who’s that?"

You grab your phone, locking the screen. "Work."

Jane narrows her eyes suspiciously. "Uh-huh. Work. Sure."

You stand up, smoothing down your outfit. "I’ll see you later."

As you leave the lab, you can still hear Jane behind you. "Don’t think you’re getting out of drinks tonight!"

You roll your eyes but smile to yourself as you make your way to Chris’s office.

-

You knock lightly on Chris’s office door before pushing it open. He’s sitting at his desk, reviewing something on his laptop, but as soon as he sees you, a proud smile spreads across his face.

"Well, look who just walked in fresh off a successful meeting," he says, leaning back in his chair. "Congratulations. You did amazing."

You give him a small smile as you step inside. "It’s too early to celebrate. The board still has to finalize everything."

Chris shakes his head. "They’re already sold. Your product is basically approved for production—they’re just waiting for the right time to launch it."

Hearing him say it out loud makes it feel even more real. You exhale, nodding. "That’s… really good to hear."

"You should be proud of yourself."

You glance down, feeling a warmth spread through you. "I appreciate all your help," you say sincerely, meeting his gaze again. "I couldn’t have done this without you."

Chris tilts his head slightly. "I think you could’ve. But I’m glad I could be part of it."

There’s a comfortable pause before you clear your throat. "Uh, actually… my team and I are going for drinks tonight to, you know, de-stress after all this. You’re welcome to join if you want."

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused at the way you hesitated before asking. He doesn’t answer right away, and for a second, you worry that maybe it was a bad idea to invite him. But then he sighs, looking genuinely regretful. "I’d love to, but I have a prior engagement tonight."

You nod, masking any hint of disappointment. "No worries. Maybe next time."

Chris’s eyes glint with something unreadable. "Next time, huh?"

You smirk. "Yeah. I’ll buy you a drink to thank you properly."

He chuckles. "I’ll hold you to that."

With that, you turn to leave, but just as you reach the door, Chris calls out, "Hey."

You glance back with one hand on the handle of the door.

"Have fun tonight," he says, his voice softer.

You nod. "I will."

And with that, you step out of his office, feeling lighter than you have in weeks.

-

Everyone raises their glasses in celebration. Jane sits beside you, grinning as she clinks her glass against yours.

“To a successful launch and to our genius researcher!” one of your team members cheers, and everyone echoes the sentiment before taking a sip of their drinks.

You smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment settle in. It had been a long, exhausting process, but seeing everyone so proud and excited made it all worth it. As the laughter and chatter continue, you stand up, raising your glass to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright, before we all get too drunk to remember anything,” you begin, earning a round of chuckles from your colleagues, “I just want to take a moment to say thank you. This project was not easy, and we’ve had our fair share of challenges, but we pulled through because of all of you.”

Your team cheers, clinking their glasses together.

“This wouldn’t have been possible without everyone’s hard work and dedication. So, really—thank you. You guys are amazing, and I’m lucky to work with such a great team.”

More cheers erupt, and Jane dramatically wipes an imaginary tear from her eye, making you laugh. “And, since I know you all worked extra hard…” You pause for effect, then grin. “Drinks are on me tonight!”

The bar erupts in cheers, your team raising their glasses in excitement. Someone pats you on the back, and Jane throws an arm around your shoulders.

“Now that’s the best speech I’ve ever heard!” she exclaims, making everyone laugh.

With the energy high and spirits lifted, the night truly begins. It goes on with rounds of drinks and playful banter, but at some point, Jane leans in closer, eyeing you with a knowing smirk.

“You’re not having fun,” she accuses, nudging your arm.

You blink at her, taken aback. “What? I am.”

“No, you’re not,” she insists, swirling her drink. “Everyone else is laughing, making dumb jokes, and you’re just sitting here, sipping your drink like you’re deep in thought.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m just tired, Jane. It’s been a long week.”

She hums in amusement before tilting her head. “Or maybe… you’re thinking about Chris.”

You scoff, nearly choking on your drink. “What? Why would I—”

“Oh, please.” She waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t act like I didn’t see you sneaking glances at your phone earlier. Waiting for a text, maybe?”

You exhale, shaking your head. “I was not.”

She nudges you with her elbow, leaning in close. “You should text Chris,” she says with a knowing smirk.

You scoff, shaking your head. “Why would I do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve been thinking about him all night?”

You roll your eyes. “I haven’t.”

Jane gives you a deadpan look. “You're getting too good at lying now.”

Sighing, you take a sip of your drink. “Look, the product is going into production soon, which means I’m done with the testing. And that also means…” You hesitate for a second before forcing yourself to say it. “Chris and I have no reason to meet anymore.”

Jane pulls back, frowning. “Wow. That’s… kind of depressing to hear.”

“It’s the truth,” you say, keeping your expression neutral, but Jane isn’t buying it. She suddenly claps her hands together. “Okay, enough of this sad talk. Take a shot with me!”

Before you can protest, she waves down the bartender and orders two shots of tequila. “We are celebrating, remember?”

You sigh but take the shot glass from her. “Fine.”

“Good girl.” Jane clinks her glass against yours, and together, you down the shot, the burn spreading through your chest.

The moment you set the empty glass down, Jane grabs your wrist. “Now, let’s dance!”

“What—Jane, wait—”

“Yes, you're coming with me!” She pulls you toward the dance floor, laughing as she drags you into the crowd. “Come on, have fun with me!”

You sigh but eventually give in, letting yourself move with the music. And slowly, just for tonight, you let yourself forget everything else.

Jane twirls you around, both of you laughing as the music pulses through the air. The bass vibrates under your feet, and for the first time tonight, you’re letting yourself enjoy the moment—until Jane suddenly gasps and grabs your arm.

She stops dancing abruptly, pulling you close. “Oh my God.”

You blink at her, slightly breathless. “What?”

Jane leans in, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, “Chris is here.”

You lean in close to hear her better. “What?”

She subtly nods toward the entrance of the bar, and your body moves on instinct, spinning around on your feet. And there he is.

Chris stands near the entrance, effortlessly catching your gaze, a small smirk playing on his lips. His hands are casually tucked into his pockets, and under the dim lights of the bar, his eyes glint with amusement. Then, as if he knew exactly when you would turn around, he raises a hand and waves.

You don’t know whether to be surprised or flustered, but the way Jane is gripping your arm tells you that she is already freaking out for the both of you.

“Looks like someone changed their plans,” she singsongs in your ear, nudging you toward him. “Go say hi.”

You swallow, exhaling softly. Yeah, you should probably do that. You weave through the crowd, making your way toward Chris. He watches you approach, his smirk never wavering. When you reach him, you tilt your head, crossing your arms.

“Hey, I’m surprised to see you here,” you say over the music.

Chris shrugs, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. “My prior engagement finished early.” He glances past you toward your table, where Jane and your team are still celebrating. “Figured I’d come see how your celebration is going.”

You arch a brow. “And here I thought you weren’t one for company outings.”

He chuckles. “I’m not. But you do owe me a drink, remember?”

You roll your eyes but gesture toward your table. “Come on, then.”

As you and Chris settle at the table, an awkward silence briefly lingers between you. Jane, ever the social butterfly, takes it upon herself to fill the void, coming to the table and panting from the dancing

“Well, this is a surprise,” she muses, waving down a server. “Didn’t think we’d see you tonight, Chris.”

Chris smiles at her. “Change of plans.”

Jane eyes him knowingly but doesn’t press further. Instead, she orders another round of drinks for the three of you. As she and Chris fall into casual conversation, you find yourself shifting in your seat, feeling the weight of Chris’s occasional glances your way.

“I’m going to the restroom,” you announce, pushing back your chair.

Jane shoots you a quick look, one that says really? but she doesn’t stop you. Chris watches as you leave, and though you don’t turn back, you can still feel his gaze on you.

In the restroom, you take a moment to collect yourself, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You should at least thank him properly, you remind yourself. After all, without him, your product wouldn't have been as successful. You fix your hair and the smudged eye makeup with your finger before taking a deep breath and head back to the table.

You find Chris and Jane laughing over their drinks. The sight of them getting along so well makes you hesitate for a second, but before you can sit, Jane notices you and stands up.

“It's my turn now,” she announces, grabbing her pack of cigarettes from her bag. “Going outside for a smoke. You two behave.” She winks at you before slipping away, leaving you alone with Chris.

The silence that follows is thick, though not necessarily uncomfortable. Chris leans back in his chair, watching you with quiet curiosity. You take your seat and reach for your drink, clearing your throat before speaking.

“I never got the chance to properly thank you,” you swirl your drink absentmindedly, glancing at Chris before finally speaking. "I really mean it, you know," you say, your voice softer than before. "Thank you—for everything."

Chris tilts his head slightly, watching you with a flicker of curiosity. "For testing the product?" he teases, smirking.

You roll your eyes but smile. "Not just that. For believing in me. For pushing me to prove myself when I was starting to doubt. I wanted to do more than just create a product—I wanted to make something better. And without your help, I might not have had the chance to."

Chris listens quietly, his gaze steady. Then, with a small exhale, he reaches for the collar of his shirt and undoes another button, his fingers moving slowly. He shifts in his seat, rolling his shoulders as if the room is suddenly too warm.

"You’re giving me too much credit," he says, his voice slightly husky. "You were always going to make this happen. I just… got to be the lucky guy who helped."

You shake your head. "Maybe. But I still appreciate it."

Chris watches you for a moment, his eyes darker under the dim bar lighting. Then, with a lazy smile, he leans in just a little. "You're welcome," he murmurs.

It’s subtle, but the way his voice drops sends a faint shiver through you. Chris exhales and tugs at the collar of his shirt again. "Is it just me, or is it hot in here?"

You quirk a brow, watching him shift in his seat. His usually composed demeanor is slightly off, his body language restless. "Do you want to go outside for some air?" you offer.

He shakes his head. "Nah, I’m fine. Just need a second." He pushes himself up from his seat. "Gonna hit the restroom."

As he walks away, something about his behavior feels… off. Your eyes narrow slightly, the way he loosened his shirt, the way he kept shifting—something clicks in your head.

Just as the realization strikes, Jane returns from her smoke break, brushing ash off her fingers. "He’s gone already?" she asks, looking at Chris’s empty seat.

You turn to her with suspicion. "Jane."

She freezes mid-motion, giving you a dramatic blink. "Yes?"

You lean in, lowering your voice. "Did you—" you gesture vaguely toward the hallway where Chris had disappeared. "Did you do something to him?"

Jane smirks, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "What? Me? I would never."

"Jane," you say more firmly, arms crossing over your chest and narrow your eyes in suspiciously at her.

She tilts her head innocently before finally cracking a grin. "Okay, fine. Maybe I slipped him a little something."

Your stomach drops. "You didn’t—"

"Relax!" she laughs. "It’s just the same aphrodisiac pill I gave you that one time! You survived, didn’t you?"

You groan, running a hand over your face. "Jane, what the hell?! That’s completely different!"

"Yeah, yeah, details," she waves you off, grinning as if this is the funniest thing in the world. "He looked so tense! I thought I’d help him loosen up a bit."

You don’t waste another second arguing with her. Instead, you push away from the table and rush toward the hallway that leads to the restrooms. If that pill is hitting Chris the same way it hit you, you need to warn him—fast.

You find Chris leaning against the wall in the hallway, his head slightly bowed as he breathes in slow, measured breaths. When he hears your footsteps approaching, he looks up, and for a second, you’re taken aback by the way his eyes seem darker, hazier than before.

"Chris," you say carefully, stepping closer. "Are you okay?"

He exhales heavily, dragging a hand through his hair. "I don’t know," he mutters. "I feel… weird." His voice is lower, rougher than usual. His fingers toy with the buttons of his shirt again, like he can’t stand how warm he feels.

You swallow, already feeling guilty. "Chris, listen to me," you begin, watching his expression closely. "Jane gave you something."

He blinks slowly. "Something?"

"An aphrodisiac," you admit, wincing a little.

Chris processes that for a moment before letting out a soft chuckle, though there’s an edge of frustration behind it. "Well, that explains a lot." He leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. "I was starting to think it was just you."

Your breath catches in your throat at that, but you shake it off. "Come on," you say, stepping closer. "I’ll take you home."

To your surprise, Chris doesn’t argue. He opens his eyes, looking at you for a long moment before nodding. "Yeah," he murmurs. "Okay."

His easy agreement makes you pause. You expected him to insist he was fine or brush you off. But the way he’s looking at you—like he’s holding himself back, like he knows staying here will only make things worse—tells you everything you need to know.

You gently take his wrist, guiding him away from the hallway. "Let’s get you out of here," you say, keeping your voice steady.

You help Chris into the taxi, making sure he doesn’t stumble as he slides into the seat beside you. As soon as he settles, he tells the driver his address in a low, slightly slurred voice.

The moment the car starts moving, Chris lets out a heavy sigh and slumps against you, his head resting on your shoulder. You tense at the unexpected weight, but before you can say anything, he shifts even closer, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

"Mm," he hums, cutting you off. "You smell good." His voice is muffled, his breath warm against your skin.

Your heart skips a beat, and you fight the urge to push him away—not because you don’t like it, but because you do.

"You’re really out of it, huh?" you murmur, trying to keep your voice steady.

Chris doesn’t answer, just lets out a small, contented sigh as he burrows closer. The warmth of his body seeps into yours, his scent—a mix of cologne and something inherently him—making your head spin.

The driver doesn’t seem to care about the scene unfolding in his backseat, but you can feel your face heating up as Chris stays glued to your side for the entire ride. Every few moments, he shifts slightly, his nose brushing your skin, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

You swallow hard and stare out the window, counting the streetlights as they pass, praying you’ll get to his place soon before you do something reckless—like lean into him instead of away.

-

When the taxi pulls up to Chris’s building, you pay the fare and help him out of the car. He stumbles slightly, and you quickly grab his arm, steadying him.

“Alright, let’s get you inside,” you say, guiding him toward the entrance.

Chris doesn’t argue, just hums in acknowledgment as you lead him through the lobby to the elevator. When the doors slide open, you help him inside, pressing the button for his floor. As soon as the doors close, Chris leans into you again, his arms lazily wrapping around your waist.

“Mmh...” he hums, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “You’re warm.”

You let out a breath, trying to ignore the way his touch sends a strange flutter through your chest. “You’re really affectionate when you’re drunk,” you comment, keeping your voice light.

He chuckles softly against your skin. “Maybe,” he admits, his grip tightening slightly. “But I like holding you.”

You suddenly turn quiet and you’re grateful when the elevator dings, signaling your arrival at his floor.

Chris groans dramatically but lets you guide him out of the elevator, his arm still draped around you as you make your way to his apartment. He fumbles with his keys, and after a few tries, he finally gets the door open. You help him inside, steadying him as he kicks off his shoes.

Just as you’re about to step back and say your goodbyes, his grip tightens around your wrist, keeping you in place. “Stay,” he murmurs, his voice low, laced with something deeper than just intoxication.

You shake your head gently. “Chris, I'd better go—”

But he steps closer, his hands sliding to your waist, his touch warm even through your clothes. “Please, stay,” he coaxes, his voice like a slow pull, dragging you toward him. “Stay with me tonight.”

You hesitate, but before you can come up with another excuse, his lips press against yours. Soft at first, like he’s waiting for you to push him away—but you don’t. You should.

You try to remind yourself that he’s been drinking, that Jane did something completely reckless, but when he deepens the kiss, his fingers splaying against the small of your back, your resolve begins to slip. You press your hands against his chest, intending to push him away—but instead, your fingers curl against the fabric of his shirt, holding onto him.

Chris hums against your lips, sensing your resistance fading. He kisses you again, slower this time, savoring the way your lips move against his. And the more he kisses you, the more you realize… you don’t want to resist him at all.

The heat between you grows as he kisses you harder, his hands firm on your waist as he pulls you flush against him and before you can even process it, he lifts you effortlessly, hoisting you up onto the nearest surface—his dining table. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as your fingers tangle in his hair.

His lips are relentless, moving from your mouth to your jaw, then down to the curve of your neck. You tilt your head back, granting him more access as he presses open-mouthed kisses along your skin, his breath hot against you.

His fingers skim the hem of your blouse before slipping underneath, palms grazing your bare skin. Then, with a smooth motion, he pulls it over your head and tosses it aside. His lips return to you immediately, trailing along your shoulder, pressing heated kisses against every inch of exposed skin.

You sigh at the sensation, your hands gripping his shoulders as he buries his face against your collarbone, his breath uneven, his body pressed firm between your legs. Your hands move to the buttons of his shirt, fumbling slightly as you undo them one by one. But before you can get through them all, Chris huffs impatiently and shrugs the shirt off himself, letting it fall carelessly to the floor.

The moment it’s gone, his lips crash onto yours again, urgent and hungry. His hands grip your waist as he presses himself against you, his hips rolling forward in slow, deliberate movements. Even through the layers of fabric between you, you can feel his cock, hard and insistent, the friction making your breath hitch.

He groans softly against your lips, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers dig into your thighs as he keeps you steady, his movements controlled but desperate. Your hands roam over his bare chest, nails scraping lightly over his skin as you gasp into his mouth.

Chris pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath warm and ragged. "...Want you so much," he murmurs, his hips still grinding into you with slow, teasing movements, making it clear just how much he wants you.

A moment later, his grip tightens on you as he lifts you from the table with ease, his strong arms holding you close against his bare chest. His lips never stray far, peppering kisses along your jaw and down your neck as he carries you through the dimly lit apartment.

When he reaches the bedroom, he carefully lays you down on the bed, his body following yours as he settles on top of you. His weight is comforting, his warmth seeping into your skin as he leans down, capturing your lips in another deep, languid kiss.

His hands roam over your body, caressing, exploring, as his kisses become slower, more indulgent. The heat between you builds with every movement, every press of his body against yours. But just as his hands begin to wander lower, you pull away slightly, breathless.

“Chris,” you murmur, voice soft but firm.

He hums against your lips, eyes dark with need as he gazes down at you.

“The condom,” you remind him, your fingers lightly tracing his jaw. “It’s in my bag.”

He exhales a short, amused laugh and then drops his forehead to your shoulder for a moment, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “You really came prepared, huh?” he teases, his voice husky.

Your bag in his hand as he returns to bed and his eyes flicker toward you as he steps closer. He doesn’t say anything as he sets the bag down on the bed, fingers expertly rummaging through its contents until he pulls out the box of condoms. With a small smirk, he places it on the bedside table, his movements slow and deliberate. Then, he straightens, standing at the foot of the bed, his gaze locked onto yours as his hands move to the waistband of his pants. His fingers make quick work of the button and zipper before he pushes them down, letting them pool at his feet before stepping out of them. The last remaining piece of fabric soon follows, leaving him bare before you.

You sit up slightly, your breath catching in your throat as you take in the sight of him—his toned body, his firm stance, the way he watches you with dark, expectant eyes. There’s something about the way he stands there, unashamed, that makes your skin heat under his gaze.

Not wanting to be the only one still clothed, you slowly peel off the remaining fabric on your body. Your movements are unhurried, teasing almost, as you slide your underwear down your legs and toss it aside. You see the way Chris’s eyes trace every inch of newly exposed skin, his jaw tightening ever so slightly.

For a moment, the two of you simply take each other in, the air between you thick with anticipation. There’s no rush, no urgency—just the quiet hum of desire, crackling like electricity in the space between you.

Chris picks up a condom before crawling over to you, his eyes fixed on yours as he leans in and presses a lingering kiss against your lips. His warmth surrounds you almost immediately.

You take the condom from his hand, meeting his gaze as you offer, “Let me.”

A slow smile tugs at his lips, and he nods, settling himself against the headboard. He shifts, leaning back comfortably, watching as you move onto his lap, your back resting against his chest. His hands skim over your arms, tracing light patterns on your skin as you tear open the packet.

As you roll the condom down his length, your touch is slow, deliberate. You can feel the way his body reacts beneath you, the quiet intake of breath, the way his muscles tense ever so slightly. His hands settle on your waist, fingers pressing gently into your skin as if grounding himself.

Chris gently grabs your chin before turning your face toward him. His lips find yours again, the kiss deep, lingering. His hands glide over your body until they settle on the softness of your breasts, palming them and using his fingers to tease your already erected nipples.

In return, your hand wrapped around his cock, moving in slow, measured strokes, feeling the way Chris tenses beneath you. His breath grows heavier against your skin, his hands tightening on your waist as he watches you through half-lidded eyes. His restraint is evident, the way he lets you take your time, but you can feel the subtle tremor in his grip, the quiet urgency simmering just beneath the surface.

Tilting your hips, you guide his cock into your entrance and once the crest is pushed inside, you ease yourself down onto him, taking him in and taking him in inches more until you can’t take it. Your breath stutters as you adjust to the feeling, your body molding against his as you rest in his lap, fully connected.

A soft gasp leaves your lips, muffled by the way he captures your mouth in a deep, lingering kiss. His hand trails up, cupping your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, teasing circles. His other hand finds its way between your legs, fingers circling on your clit in a way that makes you shudder. He continues in slow, teasing movements, pressing and circling on your clit, making you instinctively arching into his touch. The sensations are overwhelming, his touch purposeful and knowing, driving you higher with every stroke.

Chris groans at the way you clench around him. "You're so sensitive," he murmurs against your ear, his voice husky with restraint.

Your hands grip onto his forearm, searching for something to ground yourself, but the pleasure only intensifies. You squirm in his lap, your movements making him hiss as he digs his fingers into your skin, holding you still.

"You're making this hard for me," he breathes out with a strained chuckle, pressing his forehead against your shoulder. "You feel too good."

His groans grow louder as he feels the way you pulse and tighten around him, your body reacting so intensely to his touch. His fingers continue their delightful assault, drawing out every shudder, every whimper, until the pleasure overwhelms you completely.

A breathless cry escapes your lips as the tension snaps, your body trembling against his hand. Chris holds you close, his lips pressing open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder, your neck, as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

The way you squeeze around him has him teetering on the edge, his breathing ragged, his grip tightening on your waist. “Shit,” he mutters, his voice strained. His hands grasp at you, pulling you impossibly closer as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

His lips find your skin, sucking and biting lightly, lost in the sensation as his own climax rushes through him. A deep, low groan rumbles against your throat as he finally lets go, his body shuddering with release.

You turn your head slightly, finding his lips with yours and kissing him deeply. He hums against your mouth, his hands still roaming your body, his touch warm and firm. Your bodies remain tangled in the sheets, heat still lingering between you as your lips move together in slow, lazy kisses. Chris runs his fingers along your bare skin, tracing patterns as if memorizing every inch of you. His kisses deepen, his tongue teasing against yours, and you sigh into his mouth, already feeling the slow burn reigniting between you.

He pulls back slightly, his gaze heavy-lidded and full of something almost reverent as he reaches for a new condom. Sitting up against the headboard, he rolls it on with practiced ease before shifting back between your legs, his hands smoothing over your thighs as he leans down to kiss you again.

This time, he takes his time, positioning himself carefully. His movements are slow, deliberate, as he pushes his cock into you inch by inch, watching your face for every reaction. His breath catches, a low groan escaping him as he fills you, enjoying the way your body welcomes him.

"Always perfect for me," he murmurs against your lips, his forehead pressing to yours as he stays still for a moment, letting you adjust to the sensation. His hands find yours, fingers lacing together as he begins to move, each thrust measured, purposeful, as if he wants to make this last as long as possible.

Chris intently watches every flicker of emotion on your face. His hands hold you firmly but gently, grounding you as he sinks deeper into your warmth, pausing when he feels resistance. His breath is heavy, voice low and husky as he murmurs, "Is it okay if I go deeper?"

You nod, your fingers tightening against his shoulders in silent encouragement. "I can take it," you assure him, your voice breathless.

He exhales shakily, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before whispering, "Tell me if it hurts, okay?" Then, with measured control, he pushes his swollen cock another inch into you, groaning at the way your body tightens around him.

"You feel too good," he rasps, his grip on you firm yet careful, his entire body tensed with restraint.

A shuddering moan escapes you as your back arches slightly. The stretch is intense, but the pleasure rolling through you drowns out everything else. "A little more," you whisper.

Chris hesitates, his dark eyes searching yours. "Are you sure?"

You nod, biting your lip, and he swallows hard before easing the rest of himself inside you, slow and deliberate, until there’s nothing left between you. He exhales sharply, looking down where his big cock is fully disappeared in your little cunt, the sight alone making him groan. "It’s all in now," he murmurs, his voice full of awe. His hands stroke your sides soothingly, his lips brushing over your cheek. "You took me so well."

The overwhelming fullness, the heat of his body against yours, the deep pressure—it all builds too fast, too intensely. A wave of pleasure crashes over you before you can even brace yourself, pulling a cry from your lips as your body tightens and trembles around him. It’s too much, too consuming, and the last thing you hear is Chris’s voice calling your name before everything fades into darkness.

-

✨ The fourth & final chapter of Cocky is available on my Patreon page ✨

Please support my writings by kindly reblog, comment or consider tipping me on my ko-fi!

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[dxckgrxsonx]

#9 with Jason Todd PLEASE I beg of u

Title: Payback, Backfired. Pairing: Jason Todd x (F) Reader, (Mentions of ExBF!Dick Grayson x (F) Reader). Words: 1.4k Warnings: SMUT 18+ Plot: Prompt 9 from this list. Revenge Sex. (Readers ex is Dick Grayson.) Notes: i literally had so much fun writing this. also hi my beautiful darling @sio-ina-bottle thank you sm for requesting this prompt ily <3

****

“Tell me.” Jason starts the second he sinks the tip of his cock into you, mouth twisted into a fucked up grin, all sharp and triumphant; like getting into your pants grants him some sort of award, maybe something akin to bragging rights. “Is he better than me?”

Your answer circles around a snarl, fury swelling thick and suffocating between your teeth, “Shut the fuck up. The last thing I want to be thinking about is my ex whilst you’re fucking me!”

Hindsight knocks at the edges of your skull, perspective swinging on its head to offer a different look at what you’ve gotten yourself into, because decisions birthed in the face of spite and heartbreak don’t typically have happy endings.

If you’re honest with yourself though, things have limits.

However, a compelling argument to it is this: you’re long past caring.

You’re hurting–more than you ever thought capable–and more than three-quarters of you wants him to hurt too.

You think of the breakup all over again and your stomach rolls, eyes burning, Dick Grayson was supposed to be the one you built a future with; the one you looked at and never turned away from. But he didn’t seem to have much trouble walking away from a relationship spanning almost a year.

“Hm.” Jason almost purrs, bottoming out, stretching your pussy wider than it’s ever been before because he’s thick and so heavy. “Your ex must have been something special if you’re getting all teary on me.”

His hand reaches up, palm covering your cheek so he can thumb away the wetness from your eyes. Under different circumstances the action would make you melt–would probably have you squeezing at his cock like you’re coming–but Dick would do the same thing when your emotions bubbled over and you can’t stand it.

There’s also the look on Jason’s face, the twitch in his mouth, the glimmer in his eyes. It’s almost like he’s conquered something; capitalised on someone else’s failure and taken it as his own.

“Be quiet.” Your voice shakes until you tighten your jaw to settle it. “And take your fucking hand off my face before I chew it off.”

Jason’s hand grabs at your jaw as he shifts, pulling out and sinking back in so your eyes roll to the back of your skull. He laughs, free hand sliding around the back of your knee to stretch you open wider, and you can’t quite silence your whimper as the head of his cock rubs so sweetly inside you.

“You’ve got a filthy mouth.” He hisses, pressing his fingers into your cheek to force open your mouth, the callouses on the tip of his pointer finger digs into your skin and you kick up your hips in frustration. “I take it he didn’t treat you like this very often, huh? You’re clearly not used to anything like this.”

The rhythm Jason sets is easy, a slick glide of his cock splitting you open until the empty space Dick left is filled with pleasure and your own weeping cunt. Something sparks up the length of your spine when he rubs at your clit and you groan, body shaking apart.

“You have no idea of the things he did to me.” Your words are slightly slurred from the way Jason shoves his fingers into your cheek, and the discomfort from it overlaps with the wet smack of his hips. “You’d be appalled.”

In your relationship, Dick was many things to you, a soft touch, a problem solver, clever beyond anything you’d ever seen before. But there were moments in your sex life where he was mean; when he guided you beyond anything you thought possible and made you hurt and beg and cry.

And the truth of it is: you absolutely loved it.

The world tips when Jason flips you over, and instead of being flat on your back–his well muscled body bullying you into the mattress–you’re manhandled onto your knees, face down in the pillows. His cock parts your folds, the tip pushing from your entrance to your clit and back again.

He angles his hips and pushes into you in one long stroke.

You moan and spasm around him.

“How about here?” He asks, pausing to hold himself deep in your pussy as his thumb rubs over your asshole. “Did he ever fuck you here?”

The noise you make is unhinged, a sob stuck between fury and ecstasy. Of course he’s fucked you there, you want to snap, worked you open using his fingers and tongue until you cried so softly for him to please, please fuck your ass.

But you can’t speak. Not when Jason fucks you, sinks his thumb juuust past that tight ring of muscle and praises you for taking it so well.

“Stop talking about him.” You try to say, every part of you shaking and fucked open. “The whole point of fucking you is to stop thinking of him.”

Jason stops talking eventually, which should have been a relief. But rather than putting energy into taunting reactions out of you. He fucks you through orgasm after orgasm until you splinter and crack, calling Jason’s name, overstimulated and vibrating like a live-wire.

His resounding laugh in response holds weight, holds something you’re not privy to.

If you had any sense about you, you would almost think he knows exactly who your ex is, despite the fact you’ve not once mentioned his name. Hell. The whole point of you taking Jason home was out of revenge because maybe, just maybe, Dick would find out and hurt just as much as you.

****

There’s noise coming from the living room.

Sheets off, you shuffle around your bedroom, Jason still sleeping in your bed. He’s completely naked, fabric pooling at his waist. The expanse of his chest is littered with scars, some thin and faded, others thick and pink with raised tissue. Oddly, it makes him more attractive, but you’re not sure if it’s because Dick had scars too.

You should know, after all, you’d pressed your lips against every single one of them.

The closest article of clothing is his t-shirt and you slip it over your head, the hem settling comfortably against the tops of your thighs. Underwear comes next, but the pair you find are torn, seams ripped apart under Jason’s hands. You ignore the arousal still clinging to the gusset of the fabric, the wetness soaked through when you flirted with Jason.

Frustration flares. He’s such a prick.

Finding your pyjama pants you slip them on and move towards the door. Glancing back at Jason you hesitate for a handful of seconds before exhaling and continuing forwards. He can get himself up if things go to shit.

Coming into the living room you freeze.

“What are you doing here?”

Dick stops at the sound of your voice, head snapping towards you so fast you take a half-step back. There’s a box on the coffee table, half filled with his things, in his hand is one of his hoodies–all black with a brilliant blue stripe down the sleeves–the very first one of his you ever wore.

“Getting my things.” Dick answers eventually. He sounds tired. You want to cry. “Figured I’d be able to get them before you woke up.”

You hum, not trusting your voice.

You still haven’t moved.

He continues, “I think there's some more stuff in the bedroom if you don’t mind.” It’s not a question, it’s a heads up of where he’ll be going next and you bristle.

“You can’t go in there right now.”

Dick’s eyebrows furrow, attention shifting to your slightly ajar bedroom door, “Why not.” He looks at you again, bright blue eyes lingering on the shirt you’re wearing. “That’s not mine.” Everything about his voice is unrecognisable and all the hair along your arms prick up.

Time stutters and stalls when Jason breaks the threshold, still shirtless, jeans hung obscenely low at his hips. The grin on his face is downright mocking, there isn’t a single thing on his face that isn’t coated in near cruelty.

You feel caught up in the middle of something you had no idea about. Jason was a quick, easy fuck. Someone you didn't know, someone you didn't think had any real connection to Dick; someone you could have used to make him jealous.

But right now, looking at the outright horror on Dick's face, and remembering the way Jason looked at you last night, you think he might have played you both.

“What’s up, Dickie.” Jason says, tone scarily even. He slings an arm over your shoulders and stares Dick in the eye, “You don’t mind me fucking your ex do you?”

****

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Grim - Blazing Jewel Vignette

"We'll cheer the loudest"

[Sewing Room]

Grim: This is where they're making the outfits for that Blazing Jewel music performance thing, right?

Grim: Crowley said the staff had to go to a meeting, so he's asked us to get everyone's measurements…

Grim: But no one's here, even though it's time for them to show up. They're all late!

???: Urgh… Nnnn…

Grim: Hm? Did you just say something?

1. Nope, nothing. 2. Wasn't that you?

???: Hhhhhhnnnng…!

[Lilia drags Idia in]

Idia: I don't wanna! There's too many people! I wanna go back to my room!

Lilia: You've already come all the way here, steel yourself, already. C'mon everyone, into the room, let's go.

Rook: Why, hello there, Trickster. And you as well, Monsieur Furball. Did we keep you waiting?

Cater: I know they said for all the juniors to come at this time to get measured for the upcoming performance…

Trey: But no matter how long we waited, we couldn't get the full party together. We had to go out searching for the guys who didn't show up.

Malleus: I received no notification of any measurements that were to take place.

Vil: That's just because you didn't see the message sent to your phone.

Leona: Ugh, this is more than a pain… We're here already, so let's get it over with.

Lilia: No need to rush! I know I can't wait to see all our matching outfits. I've been excited ever since I saw the designs drawn out.

Cater: Riiiight～? I bet we'd be a huge hit just standing around ♪ I bet we'd even hit the trending posts on Magicam!

Rook: Aaah, yes… To see every one shine brightly like a jewel under the bright lights… Just imagining it is beauté!

[chatter, chatter]

Grim: Hrrnn…

Grim: Hrrnnnngggh…!

1. What's wrong? 2. Oh, that look means…

Leona: Hey, now. Don't tell me this furball's jealous of us now, right?

Grim: I'M SO JEALOUS, YEAH!!!

Trey: That was surprisingly honest of you. …But actually, we thought you'd say that.

Grim: Huh?

Malleus: Here is a gift from us to both Grim and [Yuu].

Grim: Eh? Huh…Huh!?

Grim: MY OUTFIT'S SO COOL!!

1. Awesome! 2. We're matching!

Grim: HEY, YOU GOT CHANGED TOO!! You're second coolest-looking, next to me.

Grim: Hm? Hey, this outfit looks exactly like what they're wearing during the Blazing Jewel thing.

Idia: Wh-When we heard about the performance, it came up… That Grim-shi'd probably be jealous… Heh.

Lilia: So, we ended up deciding to give you two the Blazing Jewel outfits as a gift.

Trey: Crewel-sensei had a hand in making these, so it's not like they're magic that'll fade after a while. Don't worry.

Vil: I'll tell you this; a performance isn't just wearing fancy outfits and standing on a stage. A costume does not make or break anything.

Vil: …Having said that, we did think you deserved an appropriate reward for everything. Plus, it would be troublesome if Grim were to throw a tantrum.

Cater: Both of you look way better than I imagined! So cute～!

Leona: Hah, let's see if their insides match the outsides. You better be just as bright and energetic as the clothes you're wearing.

Grim: Myahaha! I'm so happy to get these cool clothes!

Grim: Isn't this great?

1. Thank you so much! 2. I can't wait for the performance!

Malleus: Yes, of course. I am elated you are pleased with this, more than anything. It means it was worth our preparation.

Grim: …Now that I think of it, how'd you get the right sizes for us? I don't remember getting measured, but it fits perfectly.

Rook: Oh, yes! I provided them both of your measurements down to the first decimal. No need to fret.

Grim: H-How'd you know that!? That's creepy…!

Everyone: Hahahah.

Idia: …Eh? If that's all that was needed to be done, I didn't need to come here, right!?

[Sewing Room]

Grim: La-dee-dum～

1. You're in a good mood.

Grim: Myahaha! It's awesome that we get to wear these awesome clothes.

2. La-la-dee～

Grim: Myaha! Looks like you're just as happy to be wearing these awesome clothes.

Grim: I wanna show these off to everyone! I hope someone shows up soon.

Floyd: 'Scuuuuse me.

Riddle: Why are you kicking open a door that is not even unlocked!? You lack even the most common sensibilities!

Grim: Th-The sudden noises scared the stuffing outta me… Hey, you should just come in like a normal person!

Jade: It seems Floyd is causing trou… Oh? Why, the two of you look absolutely dazzling.

1. Thank you. 2. Don't be silly…

Ruggie: Are all those shining things real gemstones? What are they? From where? How many carats? Wait, do I get some too!?

Kalim: That's the Blazing Jewel outfit, right? It's pretty… But don't you think it'd be even flashier if we deck it out with even more gems!?

Silver: Kalim, we cannot do that.

Silver: If the clothes are weighed down, it would affect our dancing.

Jamil: That's not the main issue here… And now Kalim's looking like that was the perfect explanation…

Azul: These outfits are property of our esteemed academy. I would recommend returning it in the same condition you received it, without adding nor removing any decorations.

Floyd: Ahahah, both Shrimpy-chan and Seal-chan look like penguins in that getup. It's a nice change from usual.

Grim: Myaha, right? The juniors made 'em for us!

Kalim: We're gonna get our measurements now, and get to wear those same outfits during the performance, right? I'm super excited to be matching with everyone!

Ruggie: But, y'know… Grim-kun, can ya even take our measurements?

Jamil: Haha, true! Will you be able to measure our shoulder width with those little paws of yours?

Grim: Don't make fun with me! It'll be easy for me to do.

Grim: I just gotta made this measuring tape float with magic, just like Hornton and the others did earlier…

Grim: Myah!? I-It's not moving… Why's it not moving!?

Grim: But they were able to keep it moving so easily before!

Jade: Perhaps it has to do with a difference in ability. What a shame, Grim-kun. Oh, you poor thing.

Grim: Eeeeehhhh!

Riddle: Goodness… There's no need to tease him so. Grim, calm down and imagine the clothes you want to make.

Jamil: That's right. As long as you can picture what outfit you need to make, the measuring tape should move to where it needs to to get the measurements.

Azul: You have [Yuu]-san right in front of you to provide you with an example of the outfit, as well. Look at them, and try again.

Grim: Hrrrgh… That's still hard!

Ruggie: It's lookin' like it'll be quicker if [Yuu]-kun'd measure us by hand. Here, take the tape. Let's get this done with already.

Grim: What!? Then let's have a race to see who's faster, me with my magic, or my lil' hench-human with their hands!

Floyd: Mmkay, then I guess I'll play the guy who gets in both of your ways～ It ain't exciting otherwise, right?

1. This'll be rough… 2. Can I even win…?

Silver: I'll help you, [Yuu]. You've always helped me when I've needed it.

Riddle: Then, I shall help Grim with his magic. Now then, everyone line up!

Kalim: 'Kaaay. Come on, Azul, line up with us!

Azul: No, thank you, I will measure myself, so… Wah, don't push me!

[Jade pushes Azul]

Jade: Come now! We have no time to dally. Kalim-san, I hope you don't mind us squeezing in next to you.

Grim: Picture the outfit, picture the outfit… Okay, let's go! Myaaaah!

[Sewing Room]

Ace: Hey, hey, the measuring tape is a little too slack. There's nooo way you're getting the right measurements, are you?

Grim: Stop whining! If you got a problem with it, do it yourself!

Deuce: Ouch, who just threw that measuring tape!? Oh, no… Now I've forgotten the numbers I was going to write down…!

Ortho: What an unproductive fight. How do they not tire of it when they get nothing out of something so useless?

1. I'm already used to it. 2. It's definitely something to wonder about.

Jack: Well, anyway, I know I was surprised when we walked into the sewing room and saw [Yuu] and Grim in that sharp outfit.

Grim: Yeah! Doesn't this awesome get-up totally stun ya?

Epel: Yep. The design's pretty cool, and the jewels on it are so sparkly. You guys look rad!

Sebek: Could you have possibly expressed your thoughts any less elegantly? It is a dignified attire. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that it will suit my liege well!

Ace: There goes the Draconian again… Anyway, even if we get these outfits done, that's not all there is, right? How's everyone's performance practice going?

Epel: Hehe… I'm glad you asked. Obviously, Pomefiore is absolutely ready to go.

Deuce: Pomefiore might be a tough opponent, but we're no slackers ourselves. Our song's real awesome, especially with all our voices combined!

Sebek: Hah, I doubt it is anything worthwhile. You shall all kneel before our singing, led by Malleus-sama himself!

Ortho: Haha, you're so funny. I don't think you'll be able to keep saying that once you see me and my brother's full combo.

Jack: If we're talking teamwork, then we'd be the number one contender. We'll show you all with our perfectly in-sync dancing.

Grim: Everyone's all confident in themselves, but I really don't know if they're really ready…

Grim: We gotta supervise them good, [Yuu]!

1. We got this! 2. Let's do our best!

Ace: Ey, you guys look raring to go. Just try and keep that up for the actual Blazing Jewel performance, 'kay?

Epel: You'll be cheering on Pomefiore, right? I'm counting on you!

Sebek: Absolutely not. You should give your loudest cheers for Diasomnia. You understand, right, human!?

1. Which to pick…? 2. Hard to choose…

Grim: Yeah, you're right.

Grim: I can't figure out who to pick, so we'll cheer the loudest for whoever gives me the most tuna cans. Myaha!

Jack: Don't be trying to make a deal out of this. Be fair about it.

Ortho: Heheh. I'm really excited for the performance, yeah… But I also like preparing for it with everyone like this.

Deuce: Yeah. After working so hard and so long to get ready for the performance with everyone in the dorms, it feels like the big show'll be here any day now.

Grim: Whew, it's finally done. They were all sooo noisy.

1. That was fun.

Grim: You might've been havin' fun, but everyone kept buggin' me, so I'm pooped! Grim: If this ever happens again, I'm gonna use my magic even more to shut them all up.

2. I'm so tired…

Grim: I get it. It was all "measure this" and "measure that"… Grim: "This should be bigger", or "I want this smaller than everyone else." I'm so tired by all their little changes.

Grim: …Ah! We don't got time to hang around like this. We gotta go report to Crowley pronto.

Grim: We're so busy with all the stuff we gotta do before Blazing Jewel begins…

Grim: And even after the performance ends, there's still gonna be so much for us to do!

Grim: Let's keep doing our best, hench-human!   

Requested by @farfalla049.

[artstennisracket]

request: please I’m begging you write more parts to the Patrick Zweig Coach fucking his much younger client I’m dying that was too good

tennis coach!Patrick x fem reader, part 1

cw: nsfw (18+), d/s overtones tbh, dom!patrick, dirty talk, minimal use of daddy kink (reader says it once), not proofread

You were sore for that next week of practice. Getting fucked by a tennis racket handle wasn’t on your bucket list but you’re not particularly mad at it either.

You thought the dynamic would change between you and your coach but it’s like he went right back to ignoring you.

It wasn’t until Wednesday’s practice when you were preparing for a tournament you had this weekend.

You were genuinely out of it. You were going to be versing Anna Mueller and she’s currently ranked number 4 for women’s juniors. Sometimes you got in your head about things even if you knew how good you were.

During your serve drills Patrick could tell you were off. By the time you got to scrimmaging you weren’t giving it your all to beat him like you usually would.

On your next rally Patrick catches the ball instead of returning your serve. He walks to middle meeting you at the net, “You’re not fucking with me right? What’s going on?”

You sigh, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the cardigan tied around your shoulders, “No I’m not I just- I keep thinking about the tournament this weekend.”

He gives you a tight lipped smile, pushing his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head, “There’s nothing for you to worry about. Anna Mueller is all show, no real skill. And she’s a racist bitch, you’ll beat her into the ground without even trying.”

You let out a chuckle at that statement, “I can’t tell if you’re trying to make me feel better or light a fire under my ass,” I mean who doesn’t want to beat their opponents, especially the racist ones.

He smirks, “Why can’t it be both?,” He takes a step closer, the net still in between you two. You instinctively take a step closer just to be in his personal space. He bites his lip quickly, you can tell he’s thinking. He leans over to whisper in your ear, “And I said if you were good this weekend, I’d give you what you want.”

The smell of cigarettes fills your senses. A smell you usually hate but for some reason it just works for him. You let your eyes slip close momentarily to imagine what your first time with Patrick would be like because jesus fuck—

“We don’t have all day L/N, let’s go,” He calls out from his place on the other side of the court. Shit, how long were you standing there with your eyes closed?

You half jog back to your side of the court and take your cardigan off. When did it get so hot?

You turn quickly to look at him again, only to see him quickly push his sunglasses back down and clear his throat. Oh he was totally staring.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, “Ready Zweig?” You call out right before you serve an ace.

…

The tournament had just finished and you absolutely crushed Anna Mueller. You tanked in the first set but came back and won the last two by a good margin. You were so zoned in you didn’t even notice when Patrick had moved his tennis bag to his lap to cover up his problem.

You were so hyped at the end, you felt like it was the best tennis you’ve ever played. Not to mention the points you’d win from this to boost your own rank.

You looked around the stands for Patrick but he was nowhere to be found. You scrunch your eyebrows together in confusion but you’re sure you’ll see him later. Your parents had covered two hotel rooms for you both for the weekend.

You made your way back to the hotel so you could take a shower and change. Once you finished there was a knock on your door.

You opened it to find Patrick leaning against the door frame with a CVS bag in his hand. You took a second to take him in. Curls damp, like he just took a shower. You were able to actually look in his eyes for longer than a millisecond (since he’s always wearing sunglasses) and they were beautiful. A mashup of light hazel and green. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans that stretched over his long legs. And he was only wearing socks? No shoes.

“You gonna let me in or you wanna keep checking me out?” He smirks. You move to the side so he can walk inside.

You close the door as he takes a seat on the bed after placing the CVS bag on the night stand.

“Where’d you go? After my match.” You ask sitting next to him so your thighs are touching.

He shifts so he can face you, “Had to get some stuff, take a shower,” He gestures to the bag on the nightstand.

“You didn’t even see if I won or not, and what did you just have to get from CVS?” You ask. To be honest you’re not even really paying attention, just enjoying being this close in his personal space. Maintaining eye contact so you can fully drink in this dreamlike experience.

“Just condoms,” He’s says so causally like it’s toothpaste or something.

You scrunch your eyebrows together, “Don’t they sell that at the little hotel store downstairs?”

He smirks again, “And how would you know that?”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, “I just wanted to check I guess. And you never answered my questions.”

He shrugs, “I already knew you were gonna win and downstairs they didn’t have magnum.” He says so casually AGAIN. Fuck.

He sees the “oh fuck” realization on your face so he has to ask, “You’re not a virgin right?”

You shake your head no. Quite the opposite actually but he just made you nervous for some reason.

He moves his hand to rest on the back of your neck, his thumb resting just above your ear, “What happened to the confident little brat who made me fuck her with a racket huh?”

Fuck. You move forward to crash your lips together, you’ve been waiting for this for too long to get nervous now.

He kisses you back and it’s almost bruising. Tongue, lips, and exchanging spit. It’s filthy. He pulls you back before he says, “On your knees.”

You followed that command quicker than the speed of your serves. He chuckles softly and you look up at him, hoping this time you’d get what you want and not a tennis racket.

He stands up so your face to face with his clothed bulge. You can feel your mouth start to water subconsciously. He unzips his jeans, pulling them down until they fall at his ankles. Now he was just stood in front of you in his boxer briefs and a much more prominent bulge.

You felt some need to prove to yourself so you start to mouth at his bulge through his underwear.

“Fuck, woah slow down. Did I say you could do that?” He groans while grabbing your hair and pulling you off.

“No but I just—“

“I thought you said you were gonna be good? You were good this whole week, don't mess it up now.”

“Okay I’m sorr—“

“First rule is you only speak if I say so okay? Or if I ask you a question. Got it?”

You nod before you realize he just asked you a question. You rush out, “Yes yep got it.”

He smiles, “You’ve always been a pretty quick learner.” He moves his hand from your hair back to his own underwear. He pulls them down slowly, letting his hard length spring free and fuck. You knew he was big but this was a lot.

He continues, “Now, I’m gonna let you suck my cock but don’t try to be too ambitious. If I want you to take more, you’ll know. And if you need me to stop for any reason just pinch me.”

You nod staying in your place on your knees. He grips the base of his cock, rubbing his tip along your lips. You want so badly to open your mouth, lick the tip with your tongue. But you can’t, not yet.

“You can open.”

Before he even finishes that statement your mouth is open and you’re sucking on the tip. Little kitten licks in between. You refrain from trying to swallow him down because you haven’t been instructed to yet.

He moves his hand back to your hair, pushing you further down. You choke a little, but try to keep calm so your gag reflex doesn’t act up.

He lets out a low groan as he keeps pushing in, “Fuck,” and then he pulls out almost all the way before he presses back in.

This time you try to suck to the best of ur ability. Making a mess, spit building up in your mouth, covering his cock, drooling out of the sides of your mouth. You still haven’t taken it all but you bob your head up and down, covering the expanse of his cock that he’s allowed you to take.

The wet sounds of you choking, gasping, and breathing hard around his dick filling the room. Soon he pulls all the way out letting out an exasperated, “Fuck babe, gotta prep you now. Get up.”

You stand up, knees feeling sore from the roughness of the hotel carpet.

“Take off your clothes and lay down on your back.” He says, stroking his cock aimlessly, waiting for you to lay down.

This is the fastest you’ve ever taken your clothes off, record speed. You get into position, laying down on your back. A few pillows behind you so your back is elevated. He lays down on his stomach between your legs, his long legs hanging off the side of the bed.

He lets his finger run down the middle of your folds, gently grazing your clit, before he pushes into your hole.

“You’re so wet already, maybe I didn’t have to prep you,” He says before adding a second finger, pumping in and out of your slick hole.

He picks up the pace and you are a moaning mess. Moaning, whining, and whimpering just from his fingers as he keeps pressing against the right spot.

“Does that feel good baby?” He asks before he inserts a third, curling his fingers inside you now.

You nod before you remember that you have to answer verbally, “Yes please more, feels so good.”

He speeds up his pace, assaulting the soft spongy spot inside of you until you feel something build up in your stomach. He keeps eye contact with you, biting his lip as he watches the pleasure take over your face.

“Ah, ah, ah—Patrick wait I- fuck” You say in a high pitched whine as a rush of liquid gushes out of you, squirting all over his fingers.

Patrick pulls his fingers out, “Knew you had it in you,” he smirks moving up on the bed to capture your lips in another kiss.

This kiss is slow, like he’s taking his time to explore your mouth with his tongue. He bites your lip as he pulls away from the kiss, “Good?”

You nod definitely a little out of it. “Yeah,” you reply, your volume barely above a whisper.

“Still wanna keep going?” He asks, pushing your hair back behind your ear.

You nod, biting your lip as you smile, “Duh. Didn’t get what I want yet.”

He scoffs playfully, “I could argue that you did.” He grabs the CVS bag and opens the box of condoms, taking one out. “Would you like to do the honors?”

You nod again, sitting up on your knees and opening the wrapper. He strokes himself a few times to get himself back to full hardness before you roll on the condom.

He moves you to lay down on the other (dry) side of the bed and lines up with your entrance. He drags his tip along the center of your folds, teasing your hole, “Sure this is what you really want?”

You let out a huff, “Yes Patrick, how many times do I have to tell—shit“ Your cut off as he pushes inside of you.

He looks up at you as he bottoms out, “You still good?” He grunts out.

“Stop treating me like a baby, I can take it,” You gasp out. It really is a lot. You feel ridiculously full. Almost comparable to the tennis racket. “You literally fucked me with tennis racket.”

“Ungrateful as always,” He shakes his head before he pulls out. You whine at the loss before he flips you over so your face down ass up.

“You were good all week, now you wanna be an ungrateful slut,” he tsks before slamming into you without warning.

“Oh fuck,” You basically scream out at the abrupt intrusion. He grabs both your wrists, holding them behind your back, before he really starts fucking into you.

He grunts out, “I was trying to be nice but you keep testing me, fuck you feel so good.”

He continues holding both your wrists in one of his massive hands while the other hand grabs your hair. Pulling you up so he can whisper in your ear, “So you’re gonna take whatever I decide to fucking give you, got it?”

You let out a whimper from how overwhelmed with pleasure you feel, “Yes fuck I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He smirks, “Too late for that.” He lets go of your hair letting you fall back into position. He grips your hips and starts pounding into you. Each thrust more bruising than the last. Hard and fast. It feels like you’re gonna break.

You go from leaning into the thrusts pushing yourself back against him, to almost trying to pull away. Not because you weren’t enjoying it but because your g-spot was starting to get overstimulated, it was starting to feel too good.

“Fuck baby, can’t run away now. This is what you asked for right? What you’ve been drooling over for the past two years huh? Bet you used to touch yourself thinking about this right?”

You can’t even think straight enough to realize he’s asking a question. It’s not until he comes to a halt to say, “I asked you a fucking question.”

Now that he’s still inside you, your brain finally processes what he said. “Yes fuck, Patrick I— yes, I did, I did. Please don’t stop please,” You whine.

He picks up his pace again as tears start to fall down your face. He can hear your sniffling mixed in with your moans, “Aw baby, are you crying? Does it feel too good?”

You nod. Your face smushed against the pillow that’s catching your fallen tears. You let out a weak, “Yes daddy,” and you don’t even realize what you just said, too fucked out to register.

“Shit why would you— fuck,” His hips stutter, “Christ you’re so fucking—fuck baby you’re gonna be the end of me.”

“Please please, so close,” You whimper. You can feel yourself on the edge until-

“Cum for me baby, want you to finish all over my cock, this what you’ve wanted for two years right? Show me how much you needed it.”

And that’s all it takes. You feel that sudden rush again before you squirt all over Patrick’s dick. He curses under his breath pulling all the way out in between thrusts to fully see it. That image is enough to have him spilling inside the condom, his thrusts stilling.

He pulls out slowly, taking the condom off and throwing it away. He grabs a small hand towel from the bathroom and comes back to you on the bed half asleep.

“I figured you’d be too tired to shower but are you sure you wanna sleep here? My room’s right next to yours and my bed isn’t…yeah.”

You nod sleepily, “‘Mkay, there’s a connecting door I think?” You lazily gesture to the door in the middle of the wall.

“Oh that’s…convenient.” He pulls on his jeans haphazardly, taking out his key card. He leaves your room, leaving the deadbolt on to hold the door cracked open, and you hear some shuffling outside. You assume he’s unlocked the connecting door on his side.

He comes back to your room, unlocking the door on your side, revealing direct access to Patrick’s room. He picks you up with ease, probably from all those years of tennis, and sets you down in the middle of his bed.

It’s chillier in his room. Probably has the AC blasting, so you curl in on yourself trying to get comfortable enough to sleep again.

He makes his way over to the thermostat to turn up the temperature a little. Then he takes a beat before he decides to cover you with the comforter, tucking you in.

“Better?” He asks as he lays next to you, on top of the comforter because he’s still hot.

“Better,” You mumble back before you fall asleep

[sakuraszn]

﹒♡ CONFESSION ft. katsuki bakugo

cw: lots of fluff, flustered bakugo. he’s such a cutie

The ramen shop was packed, the air filled with laughter, chatter, and the rich aroma of broth and grilled meat. The entire Class 1-A had squeezed into the cozy little restaurant to celebrate Todoroki’s recent jump in the hero rankings.

Bowls clinked, chopsticks clashed, and the energy was electric as the group indulged in warm food and lively conversation.

And at the center of it all—Katsuki Bakugo sat stiffly, arms crossed, scowling into his half-finished bowl of ramen like it had personally offended him.

Not because he wasn’t happy for Todoroki.

Not because the food was bad.

But because of you.

You, sitting just a few seats down, laughing at something uraraka had said, your eyes crinkling, shoulders shaking.

And it was driving him insane.

For weeks—no, months—Bakugo had been dealing with this… feeling. This stupid, irritating, suffocating feeling every time you were near him. It was different from the rivalry-fueled adrenaline he felt in battle, different from the pride he carried when he improved as a hero.

It was something he didn’t understand, something he couldn’t control.

And he hated that.

But tonight… tonight was the night he was going to do something about it.

Or at least, that’s what Kirishima and Sero had forced into his thick skull before they even walked into the restaurant.

“Dude, you’ve been acting weird around them for weeks.”

“Just tell them! What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Oh, I don’t know, idiots, maybe they laugh in my face and never talk to me again?!”

“Oh please, she would never—”

“Shut up. I’ll do it when I damn well feel like it.”

But now that he was here, surrounded by people, nerves bubbling in his gut like an active volcano, feeling like it was a lot harder than he expected.

“Bakugo,” Kirishima’s voice cut through his thoughts, low enough that only he could hear. “You good, bro?”

“I’m fine,” Bakugo growled, barely glancing up as he stabbed at his noodles with his chopsticks.

Kirishima raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? ‘Cause you haven’t insulted Kaminari in like ten minutes. I’m starting to get worried.”

Sero snickered. “Pretty sure that’s a new record.”

“Shut the hell up.”

Kirishima and Sero exchanged glances before the redhead leaned in again. “Are you actually gonna do it?”

Bakugo exhaled sharply, gripping his chopsticks so tight they nearly snapped.

“After this.” His voice was firm. Final.

Kirishima grinned, nudging Sero. “Told ya he’d do it.”

“Hey, I had faith,” Sero said, shrugging. “Just not a lot of faith.”

Bakugo shot them both a murderous glare, but before he could verbally rip them apart, Iida clapped his hands together, signaling for attention.

“If I may have everyone’s focus for a moment!” Iida said, standing up. “I’d like to propose a final toast to Todoroki!”

Todoroki, who had been quietly enjoying his meal, blinked as everyone raised their glasses. “Oh,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “Thank you.”

“To Todoroki climbing the ranks!” Iida declared.

“To Todoroki!” the class cheered, clinking their glasses together.

You turned, smiling at the dual-haired hero. “You really deserve it, Todoroki. We all knew you’d make it far.”

Todoroki’s lips curled into a small smile. “I appreciate that, Y/N.”

Bakugo scowled.

It wasn’t Todoroki’s fault, but hearing you say his name like that, so softly, so encouragingly—yeah, it bothered him.

Not that he’d ever admit it.

As the night wound down, people started finishing up their food, settling their bills, and stretching lazily before making their way out.

“Damn, that was good,” Kaminari sighed, rubbing his stomach. “I think I ate too much.”

Mina laughed. “You definitely ate too much.”

One by one, people began saying their goodbyes, heading off in different directions toward the dorms or home.

And that’s when Bakugo knew—this was his moment.

You were slipping on your jacket, adjusting your scarf when he finally forced himself to move.

Kirishima shot him a thumbs-up from across the room, and Sero winked.

Bakugo rolled his eyes before stomping over to you, heart hammering wildly in his chest.

“Oi.”

You looked up at him, blinking. “Oh, hey, Bakugo! What’s up?”

He inhaled sharply through his nose. Okay. Just say it. Say it, dumbass.

But the words wouldn’t come out.

Instead, he found himself standing there like an idiot, fists clenched at his sides, staring at you.

You tilted your head, confused. “Uh… you okay?”

His jaw tensed. This was already going horribly.

And then—because frustration was the only thing that ever helped him push past his nerves—he blurted out:

“Are you really so oblivious?”

You blinked. “Huh?”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair before pointing at you aggressively. “You! You’re oblivious! Have you seriously not noticed?!”

Your confusion deepened. “Noticed what?”

He exhaled sharply, cheeks burning. His whole body felt like it was about to explode.

He had two options: Keep making a fool of himself or just say it and get it over with.

He squeezed his eyes shut, inhaled, and then—

“I like you, dumbass!”

Silence.

Bakugo cracked one eye open, stomach twisting into knots.

You were staring at him.

Not laughing. Not recoiling. Just… staring.

Then—

“You… like me?”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “That’s what I just said, idiot.”

A slow smile crept onto your lips. “You like me?”

His face turned an even darker shade of red. “Yes! Stop making me say it, damn it!”

You let out a laugh—light, airy, and filled with something he couldn’t quite place. “Wow,” you said, grinning. “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t easy.” His voice was gruff, but his hands were twitching at his sides, resisting the urge to do something—anything—with them.

You stepped closer, peering up at him. “You know… I like you too.”

Bakugo’s brain short-circuited.

“…What?”

You laughed again, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I like you, Bakugo. Have for a while now.”

His heart stopped.

Then jump-started at triple speed.

“What?”

You shrugged, smirking. “What? Are you oblivious?”

His eye twitched. “You—you little—”

You poked his cheek and laughed. “Aw, don’t be embarrassed kat’ I’m just messin with ya.”

He exploded.

Not literally. But his entire soul combusted.

“Shut the hell up!” he barked, face practically glowing red.

But you just laughed again, softer this time. Fond. “So… now what?”

He swallowed, heart still racing. “Now… now you let me walk you home, dumbass.”

You beamed. “That sounds nice.”

And as you started walking together, Bakugo felt something strange settle in his chest.

Warm. Light.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

SAKURASZN © 2025 !

[moon-ttokki-x]

stylist!reader x seungmin or jeongin??? any scenario!!

hi hi~ i needed more seungmin and jeongin requests . . . been wanting to write for them so bad but i couldn't think of anything lol . anyway, here you goo~~~

₊✩‧₊˚ stylist!reader x kim seungmin ˚₊✩‧₊

pairing: stylist!reader x kim seungmin

summary: being seungmin's stylist has its perks (mostly)

genre: idol!au, stylist!au, cheeky boy, soft and fluffy, mentions of jyp (yes that needs a warning), please bring back doberman seungmin he was my fav :(

a/n: sorry idk who made this divider . . . if it was you lmk so i can tag and credit u <3

skz masterlist

you have to drag him everywhere

like by his literal collar

or whatever it is that he's wearing

bc this man does not want to walk

like

anywhere

drag him to the mirror, drag him behind a curtain to fix his outfit

it never ends

and he moves around a lot too while you're doing his makeup

more than once you've gotten chan to hold his jaw shut so you can powder it or fix up his contour

and he always stares at you while you do it

with his little meanie face

you know the one he makes where he's trying to be scary but it doesn't work on anyone so he's just like >:|

yeah that one

complains a lot about his appearance to piss you off

'i don't like the eye makeup' 'i hate this shirt'

it never ends but you're used to it so he kind of gives up after a while

when you got assigned to him, he would stare into your eyes while you were doing his makeup to try and make you fumble

bc let's be honest no one could focus if kim seungmin was staring into their soul

but you got used to that too and now you just ignore it

you always get him to tell you how he's feeling on a certain day so you can sort of match his outfit and makeup to his vibe

if he's in a good mood, lots of scarlet reds and brighter colours

if he's just neutral, then dewy pinks and purples

and if he's having a bad day, lots of metallic silver and black

of course his appearance still has to match the other members' vibes

but you always try to make it a little more special

seungmin would never admit it but he appreciates that so much

most of your job is just looking for him to be honest

like man literally disappears and gets distracted by the tiniest things

there's a bird outside? gone

hyunjin has his back turned and is therefore vulnerable to attack? gone

there's no reason for him to go anywhere?

gone

you've debated putting a tracker in his outfit like a literal dog but you decided against it because it's like playing hide and seek

which is kinda fun

usually he's busy doing something random or looking out the window

or pissing his members off

if worst comes to worst and you can't find him, you just threaten to call chan and he materialises out of thin air

which is kinda funny

and when he won't stay still to let you fix his outfit, you threaten to dress him like jyp

that always works lmao

he just goes absolutely rigid and his eyes go all wide

'please don't'

and you'll just fix his collar or his boots or whatever and off he goes again

multiple times you've told him to put accessories on before he goes on stage

but he always forgets

you've had to drag him backstage countless times before the group went on to perform bc he's forgotten to do what you said

you'll have super steady and nimble hands after a while bc trying to clip a chain necklace on a hyped-up puppy boy is one of the hardest things

like ever

he's just raring to go lol

always runs up to you after performing all sweaty and excited

'did you see me? when i did that move'

or something along those lines

he truly is so soft and sweet but he'll never admit it

and you'll nod and he's have the biggest shiniest prettiest boy smile on his face

stop i'm sad

most of the time he sweats all of his makeup off

and then sheepishly bows to you and apologises for ruining all your hard work

but you shake your head and tell him with a smile that it's fine

and it is, really

he looks hotter when he's all sweaty

huh? what

i didn't say anything

yes i did

after he's warmed up to you

and it takes a while, i'm gonna be completely honest

he refuses to let anyone else do his hair, makeup, or outfit

he just wants you

because you always make sure he can dance properly in his outfit, and that his hair isn't in his eyes, or that he likes his makeup

you would never make him wear anything that makes him uncomfortable either

you're always asking for his input on certain outfit ideas and he tells you honestly what he thinks

and you just take his feedback and make outfits for him that he'll be comfortable in

which makes him swoon for you

again, he would never say anything to you about how he's starting to feel

maybe one day, he thinks he might be able to

until then, he'll settle for looking at your pretty face while you do your thing <3

a/n: yomg i wanna be a skz stylist so baddd (seungmin if ur reading this one chance pls)

ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @batty-barty-crouchjr @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585

send a dm, comment under the taglist post, or send an ask to be added !

[firstkanaphans]

Ik nothing about inn I haven't watched any shows (I'm emfkjd mains) but I am fascinated by the lore in your inn posts who is this man what is his life I need to know more gimme a primer pls and shows to watch I'm mesmerized by the energy

Oh, Anon, I would love to! Full disclaimer: I only became a fan of Inn after he joined GMMTV so everything that happened before then, I've had to piece together through sketchy Twitter posts that may or may not be accurate and an obscene amount of Instagram stalking. But these are things as I understand them:

In 2022, Inn starred in a BL called "The Miracle of Teddy Bear" where he played a teddy bear that comes to life and falls in love with its owner. It's a fantastic BL and I do recommend it (more on that below), but it's ridiculously long. 16 episodes, an hour and a half each, and surprisingly heavy subject matter for what sounds like it should be a light-hearted drama. Inn did a fantastic job—so much so that it's still hard for me to see him as anything other than an anthropomorphic teddy bear—but while the show was airing, rumors started to surface that Inn had a boyfriend (which he did).

I don't know the specifics, but the general fan perception seems to be that Channel 3 was not happy with these rumors and blamed Inn for them, which led to a rift with his management. Because of that, he left Channel 3 and moved over to GMMTV instead where he knew upon signing that he would be paired with Great, who he was friends with during university. You can listen to Great tell the whole story of how they came to be paired here (with some amusing asides from Inn).

And now for the juicy stuff...

This, my friends, is Inn's boyfriend/husband/business partner, Tie Kuhapremkit. If you couldn't tell, he's a model by trade.

Are you starting to see why I'm obsessed with them now?

I have no clue when Inn and Tie started dating—they were liking each others photos on Instagram all the way back in 2016—but what I do know is that they opened Holiday Pastry together in 2022 and started wearing matching $13k Cartier Love rings that same year. Here's some photos of them wearing the rings at their new bakery launch earlier this month.

I have not yet found a single picture of them alone together. Even in group photos, they are careful to have at least one person between them, and that lack of photos is, in itself, conspicuous. They own three businesses together. The fact that there are no photos of them is honestly impressive. (I did find a Twitter user who documents all their Lovestagrams if you want to do a deep dive.)

Inn obviously has ample motivation to keep his relationship private, but I think the reason I've become so obsessed with him and Tie is because it's such a great representation of what this industry could become if fans weren't so toxic. Not only does Inn get an IRL boyfriend, but he also gets an on-screen boyfriend who he gets paid to flirt with. And his two boyfriends get along!

Here's a picture of Great at Tie's birthday dinner (please also note how far away from Tie Inn moved to take this picture).

And here's a video of Tie accidentally walking out of the kitchen at their bakery just as Inn was hugging Great in front of their fans.

It’s all just so perfect. But unfortunately, fans are toxic and one of the most often cited reasons for GreatInn’s lack of popularity is that fact that since Inn has a boyfriend and people are aware of it, they can’t delude themselves into thinking he's with Great, which takes some of their fun away. To those people, I just say: Where is your imagination? Because GreatInn do more fanservice than every other GMMTV CP combined. Here is Inn telling everyone that he and Great practiced their NC scenes on his kitchen counter. And here is Great making sure you know that Inn has a big penis too.

As for the kids, you can watch this video of Inn explaining it himself. The kids are the biological children of his housekeeper but she was going to send them away, so Inn offered to take them in instead. Obviously, I don't know their exact arrangement, but Inn does refer to the kids as his. Like just look at these pictures. I’m melting. 

Sorry for the machine translation on the second one. It's mostly accurate except his son's names is Saifah, which means "thunder." So he's saying Saifah doesn't cry. (And also, yes. Poon has liked every single one of Inn's pictures as far back as I've scrolled—which is far. Do with that information what you will.)

Saifah and Fahsai's mom also recently had a third child that seems to be living at Inn's house as well.

In addition to all of that, Inn is also just a character in his own right. He’s sassy and spoiled and I watch every single variety show or interview he appears in because it’s always a great time. From pole dancing on Live House to being bitter it's "GreatInn" instead of "InnGreat" to complaining that Great gave him the wrong number of roses on Valentine's Day. He's just an amazing human and I am obsessed with him.

As for which shows you should watch, definitely check out WandeeGoodday. It's a GMMTV show and highlights his chemistry with Great really well. I would also recommend The Miracle of Teddy Bear—especially if you're a fan of The Eclipse because the original stories were written by the same author. However, Miracle of Teddy Bear deals with some heavy topics including child abuse so please make sure you're in the right headspace for that.

Inn and Great are currently halfway through filming their second show together, Memoir of Rati, and they're making quick time so I imagine it'll probably be on air within the next three months.

I hope this was helpful? And I hope it makes you want to watch more of his shows because he deserves all the love and support in the world.