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harryspet · 3 months ago

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lonely little lamb | r. cameron

[warnings] dark!stepbrother!rafe x stepsister!reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader, dd/lg dynamic, mentions of violence/blood, somnophilia, stalker!rafe, DUBCON, emotional/mental manipulation, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: happy OBX4! This was written before the new season :) Dividers by @/ghoulbloggerrr

In which Rafe knows your secret and just how perfect you'd be together.

word count: 7.2k

rafe cameron masterlist

Rafe didn’t catch on immediately. At first, he just thought you were strange, his expectations already tainted by what he'd assumed about you. He’d been prepared for his stepmother’s daughter to be a brat, and on the surface, you fit that mold perfectly. But there was something off about the way you acted around him. You never played innocent, never tried to charm him or win him over like you did with everyone else. You gave him sharp glances at the dinner table when he talked back to Ward and even angrier stares when he disrespected your mother. You never hung around after dinner, always rushing to go back to your room, and “call your friends from back home”. Of course, Rafe listened at your door often and he never heard you making any calls. Having grown up in the house, he felt entitled to know what was happening within its walls.

Your behavior puzzled Rafe to the point of obsession. He woke up every morning to check if your car was still in the driveway and easily memorized your schedule. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you attended classes in the morning at the local community college. On the other days of the week you sat through your online classes. You never ate too early, always going for a late breakfast that usually consisted of avocado toast, a bowl of fruit, and you always came down to refill your “sippy cup”. That’s what Rafe had dubbed it. It was clear, decorated with a stencil design of a baby lamb and had a flip-up spout for easy drinking. You didn’t go many places without it.

It was the small things that fascinated him. The comfort items you clung to, the simple routines that made your life feel organized and secure. You usually took a bubble bath about thirty minutes after dinner, and when you forgot to lock your door, Rafe would slip into your room, drawn by the intimacy of your private world.

He picked up items around your room, like the frame you kept beside your bed. It held a photo of you and your mom: you in your old high school cheerleading uniform, hair pinned back in pigtails, while your mom smiled widely beside you. Despite her cheerful expression, your eyes in the picture looked wistful and lonely. Rafe couldn’t help but imagine you now, with adult curves and eager eyes, wearing that outfit. The thought stirred something in him, making him hard, and he had to tuck himself away, cursing under his breath. At least if you walked in, he wouldn’t be caught in the act.

The more he learned about you, the harder it was to quiet these thoughts. He had always found you pretty, but now his body and mind were becoming obsessed with you. He made a habit of collecting a pair of your panties from the hamper before leaving. He needed them for later, for the release that he craved, driven mad by the scent of you.

The sound of soft, melodic music flowed into your bedroom from behind the bathroom door. Sometimes it was girly pop songs, other times classical, but more often than not, it had the gentle, soothing quality of nursery music. Your bed was always neatly made, draped in a floral quilt, and you kept the same stuffed animals on top, meticulously placed. A small chesnut brown teddy bear, white bunny, and a tiny stuffed lamb. Each one had their own white ribbon wrapped around its neck, tied into a bow.

One time he caught a glimpse of your nighttime skin care routine. You removed the light makeup you always wore and used about ten different products that Rafe didn’t recognize, nor could he guess their use. The last layer was always a light layer of lip balm and Rafe always leaned a bit closer when your puckered your lips in the mirror. His mind easily wandered to idea of your lips around him.

You wouldn’t look so lonely, little lamb, if you just let me in.

He had his suspicions about the secret, kinky things you were into. There had to be a reason you spent so much time by yourself. He didn’t get the answers he was looking for until one night when you’d left your laptop, unlocked on your desk. He took the opportunity to program his fingerprint into it too, just in case he needed to snoop again.

He combed through your social media, public and private, and started checking your messages daily, keeping track of who you talked to, what you were up to. Your public social media was perfect. A mix of selfies with soft lighting, photos of cute coffee shops, and other things you deemed as your “aesthetic”.

It was your camera roll that finally gave Rafe the answers he had been searching for. One folder, marked with a delicate pink heart, caught his attention immediately. Inside were photos of you, taken in front of your floor-length mirror. Each picture was eerily similar, the same vacant, wide-eyed expression on your face, as though you were lost in some faraway place.

You wore pajamas he’d never seen before, soft and childlike. Sometimes it was pastel-colored footie pajamas, other times it was nightgowns in soft shades of pink, lavender, or baby blue. In a few, you were bundled up in fuzzy socks or slippers with floppy bunny ears. Your hair was always styled with bows, either pink or white. There was a strange innocence in these details, one that clashed with the tension building inside Rafe as he scrolled through the images.

Sometimes you were biting down on your nails, others your thumb rested in your mouth, but most of the time you were gripping one of your stuffed animals tight to your chest.

You looked...adorable. But in a way that made Rafe’s pulse quicken with something darker. The softness, the vulnerability you displayed in those photos, fed his obsession.

Another folder marked with a unicorn emoji held more photos that you’d saved. He recognized some of the characters from children’s TV shows he remembered Wheezie watching. Others were pictures from Disney movies, and Rafe quickly realized you had a special preference for the princesses. You seemed drawn to Cinderalla, Belle, and Snow White. It offered a glimpse into your mind, into your fantasies, how you were drawn to things with an air of purity and sweetness.

Rafe’s heart slowed when a message popped up from someone named Mr. Hayes. Been thinking about you all day, sweetheart. The message said. A moment later, another one came. How was ur bath?

Rafe opened the text thread and began to scroll. Each word that he read made his blood boil. There were too many messages for him to read. You’d sent him photos of yourself, let him call you pet names, and you’d even gone so far as calling him… Daddy. He’d never sent you a photo but that didn’t seem to matter. You were willing to share the details of your life with him.

Rafe’s vision blurred with rage. Daddy. This virtual fantasy, a stranger who you didn’t even know, did not deserve your affection. He decided then you were his, whether you knew it or not.

Rafe decided then to also make it a habit to check your messages.

Several weeks later, you’d finally convinced Mr. Hayes to meet you in person. Rafe couldn’t let that happen. As your stepbrother and your protector, it would be wrong of him to let some stranger hurt you. Besides, he’d become obsessed to the point where now he was dying to know exactly who this man was.

You didnd’t know any better, but he did.

“Hey,” Rafe spoke to you the afternoon before your secret rendevouz, interrupting your fruit cutting, “My Dad just texted. Him and your Mom aren’t going to make it back tonight. There flight keeps getting delayed so they’re going to stay the rest of the weekend.”

“Oh, okay,” You replied simply, returning back to your task again.

“Wheezie’s sleeping at a friends and I’m probably going to a party at Kelce’s,” You gave him a look, as if it was strange to be conversating with him alone without the presence of the rest of their blended family, “...Do you want to come? It’ll be fun.”

You shook your head, “No, thank you. I’ll just stay in.”

Rafe leaned on the marble countertop, staring across the kitchen island at you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you go out one time since you moved in.”

Rafe’s sudden interest in your habits had become more noticeable lately, but you figured it was nothing, just him being Rafe, always lurking in the background, watching everyone, everything. Your mother had warned you that she thought something was off about him and living with him over the past nine months had sealed the fact that you didn’t trust him.

You didn’t trust many people at all, actually, never having had a stable home life. Your mother had always had money, or at least latched on to men who had money, but those men came and went. Even your mother wasn’t someone you could count on. She’d uprooted your life more than once, moving you across states just to be with a man who could give her the lifestyle she believed she deserved.

Mr. Hayes had offered you comfort in this transitional time. You had no one to confide your secret in accept for the communities you found online. It made you anxious to even think about finding a partner one day and having to explain this side of you. Friends on the internet wouldn’t judge you.

But online, the stakes felt lower. The people you spoke with, people like Mr. Hayes, didn’t judge. The risk of being truly seen, and rejected, was something you couldn’t handle. Not yet.

You paused what you were doing, knife hovering over a piece of strawberry, “You really want to spend the night alone. On a Friday night?”

Rafe sauntered around the kitchen island, his eyes fixed on you in a way that made a shiver run down your spine. He knew he was handsome. With his short blonde hair and blue eyes that always had a raging storm behind them. His gold ring and his gold watch. Most important of all, he knew he intimidated you, his size being enough to make you feel smaller than you actually were.

“I have to study,” You spoke curtly, trying to cut off the line of questioning you sensed was coming. You moved to keep cutting up your fruit but you paused again when Rafe reached out to grab a piece from the cutting board. You looked up at him as he popped the piece of strawberry into his mouth.

Your lips parted in shock and Rafe’s lips pulled into a smirk, as if he was thriving on that power, the uncpoken tension in the air. The way he could make your heart race in that mix of fear and something else he knew you’d never admit.

“Oh yeah?” Rafe placed a hand on the counter, “You have all weekend to study. C’mon, have some fun, princess.”

You took in a breath at the sound of the pet name. He hadn’t ever called you that before and for a moment it looked like he was seeing right through you.

“I-” Quickly, you turned your head away, refocusing on the task, as your cheeks heated with embarrassment, “I’m okay, thanks.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to come out,” Rafe continued, his voice smooth, almost coaxing, “You got secret plans or something?”

“No,” You said quickly, “I told you, I’m studying.”

Rafe let out a dry chuckle, no real amusement behind it, “You sure you’re not just hiding?”

“It’s not your business,” You snapped finally, your tone icy, “And I… I don’t have to explain myself to you, Rafe. You don’t even know me.”

“I know you, princess,” You dropped the knife, your heart beating too fast, and you quickly picked up your pieces of fruit and placed them in your bowl. Rafe leaned closer, watching your every move, and the intensity of his gaze was starting to unravel you, “You’re so jumpy. It’s just me. No need to be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” You muttered but your fingers trembled as you grabbed ahold of your bowl of fresh fruit and your lamb cup.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Rafe took another step closer and you backed away from the counter.

“Stop it,” Your frustration flared, unsure of why exactly Rafe was trying to stir you up. Your lips pressed together and you tried to stop your reaction, but with him towevering over you, invading your space, you felt effectively suffocated. It wasn’t until your back was pressed into the stainless steal fridge, your bowl the only thing protecting you from being pushed against Rafe, that you actually flinched.

“Hey,” Rafe lifted on arm, casually bracing his hand on top of the fridge as he looked down at you, “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You swallowed hard. His voice was deceptively gentle, “Rafe–”

“I’m not trying to scare you, I promise,” Something flickered in his eyes, something you didn’t recognize, and for a moment, you questioned if you’d read this entire situation correctly, “I know how fragile you are. How scary the world can seem. I’m offering …you know …because I’d be there to protect you. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

You blinked up at him. Surprisingly, there wasn’t even a hint of him trying to talk down to you. Rafe Cameon almost sounded caring. “You don’t need to be so on guard all the time,” Rafe continued.

“I just …” You couldn’t stop the way your voice softened, “I like keeping to myself. It’s not that I don’t want to be around people. I just don’t …fit in here.”

Rafe nodded, his expression understanding, and it was the first time you looked at one another as real people, “I get it. You’re not like the other girls around here. You’re smarter, quieter … softer. You can trust me though, yeah? You don’t gotta hide from me.”

For a moment, everything felt like it would be okay. Maybe Rafe had managed to see you and was willing to understand you, unlike anyone else you had met on this island. It all felt real until you focused more on his eyes. Your expression had softened, melted from frustration to wide-eyed curiosity, and that had caused a shift in his eyes. You saw that flicker of darkness that you’d seen before.

“I can look after you, ya’ know?” He said, voice dripping to a lower tone, “Help you. You don’t need to worry too much.”

Before you could respond, his other arm lifted, and you felt his fingers graze your cheek, the touch startlingly intimate.

“What are you doing?”

“C’mon,” Rafe’s jaw tightened, the mask he was wearing beginning to slip, “Don’t be like that, princess.”

“Stop,” You managed to say, “Stay away from me.”

In just a few hours, you’d finally get to meet Mr. Hayes. None of Rafe’s games would matter then. When you went silent, you watched as Rafe’s hand balled into a fist and he turned his body away.

“Suit yourself,” He’d said coldly, his void devoid of any of the warmth that was there before.

You stared down at your bowl of fruit dumbfounded for a moment too long. Princess. How did Rafe know how desperately you wanted someone to call you that?

Rafe stayed at Kelce’s party until eleven He finished his last pabst blue ribbon, said goodbye to only a handful of his friends, before he made his way to his truck. Knowing they would find it strange for him to leave so early, he mad the excuse that he was going to meet up with a girl at the Island Club.

In reality, Rafe was headed twenty minutes away, towards Winward Beach. Mr. Hayes wanted to meet you at midnight. One of the many red flags Rafe assumed you had ignored. You probably thought it was romantic, meeting at a secluded beach in the middle of the night. Like the two of you were fucking Romeo and Juliet.

Stupid, Rafe thought bitterly, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Rafe parked his car in the small parking lot that sat near the boardwalk, turning off all of his lights, and waited for the creep to show up first. Rafe thought for a moment that neither of you might show when midnight started to approach. Maybe you’d wisened up, listened to your gut instinct that told you something wasn’t right. He didn’t believe it for long, you were too trusting. Too soft.

When a tan sedan that Rafe didn’t recognize pulled up in a parking spot close to the walkway, Rafe knew who it was. In the dark and without any streetlights, he only saw a dark figure carrying a backpack make his way towards the beachwalk. He waited until the figure made it halfway before he climbed out of his truck.

The moon was high, casting a white glow over the empty landscape.

Anger simmered beneath Rafe’s skin as he watched the man from a safe distance. He moved with a nervous energy, often glancing over his shoulder as if he was expecting to see someone. Wooden planks creaked softly under his weight but Mr. Hayes didn’t notice, not until he’d made it to the beach, and Rafe appeared behind him.

The man turned his head, eyes wide with confusion. For a moment, this was all a coincidence. Rafe was a nobody, just a stranger taking a walk on the beach, until Rafe’s lips pulled into a smile, “Not what you were expecting?”

“Who the hell are you?”

Mr. Hayes was certainly not what Rafe was expecting. A completely unremarkable middle-aged man with streaks of gray in his thinning brown hair, pale skin, lightly freckled and a slight paunch that rested over the waistband of his dreams. A complete creep. Someone completely undeserving of even being looked at by you.

Anger wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what Rafe was feeling, “You’re Mr. Hayes?”

“What?” Up close, Rafe could see the way the man's eyes started to dart around. He took another step further and the man stumbled back in the thick sand, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just–”

“You’re just a coward?” Rafe finished, his tone mocking, “I mean, I understand now why you hid your face.”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

Rafe interrupted again, snarling, his hand lashing out to grab the front of the man’s shirt. He yanked him forward and the man’s eyes went wild with panic, “Meeting up with an innocent girl in the middle of the night? Sneaking around like a creep? What’s in that fucking bag?”

“Nothing!” Mr. Hayes struggled. Rafe couldn’t believe how weak the man was. Strong enough to overpower you, maybe, but weak. As soon as the though of this man pinning you down in the sand crossed his mind, Rafe’s eyes went wild, “Nothing, I’m sorry!”

Rafe shoved him hard and the man stumbled backwards into the sand. He towered over the man, his shadow casting long across the beach. Waves crashed loudly in the background but Rafe’s voice boomed over the sound, “I don’t think you are! You probably thought you could just take what you wanted, huh? Fucking answer me!”

The man scrambled backwards, hands digging into the sand, backward hanging awkwardly from his shoulder. Why didn’t he just drop it …if he wasn’t hiding anything, he would let it go, “I wasn’t — I didn’t mean, I didn’t know!”

“You didn’t know what? That she was half your age? That she was too good for you?” Rafe’s lip curled in disgust. He knelt down, his face inches from Mr. Hayes’s as his voice dropped to a whisper, “She’s not yours. She never will be.”

“Okay,” He nodded, holding out a hand as if to put distance between them, “I just wanted to meet her. I know I lied. I’m sorry. I won’t …it won’t happen again. Believe me, it won’t happen again.”

Rafe’s head cocked to the side as he looked down at the trembling man. Without another word, he grabbed for the backpack. The man resisted, of course, a series of “Wait, wait, wait,” leaves his lips. Rafe doesn’t leave space to argue because he pushed his palm into the man’s chest, pinning him down, before he lets his fist connect with the side of the man’s face.

The man gasps, whimpers, as he curls into a ball on the sand, “F-Fuck!” The creep moans. Rafe pulls away the bag, ripping open the zipper, and dumping the contents onto the sand.

A cheap blanket, a cheap bottle of wine, and then Rafe’s eye catches on the condoms and then then the thick, coiled string of rope. Without another thought, Rafe was tackling the man, grabbing a hold of his collar, pulling him up and slamming his head into the ground over and over again. Rafe didn’t stop. He slammed his fist into the man’s face harder and harder. Each blow left a sickening crack echoing in the air.

Crack. Groan of pain. Crack. Whimper, “You though you could hurt her? Touch what’s not yours? Brutalize her?” Rafe snarled, voice low and vicious. When the man finally went unconscious, his body limp, face bloody and unrecognizable, “Fuck you!”

Rafe’s chest heaved as he stared down at his work. Nothing about the blood and broken flesh bothered him. He looked down at his hand which were covered in the man’s blood and only felt satisfied.

He’d protected you. His pulse spiked even more as he heard footsteps on the boardwalk. You’d shown up. Rafe watched you kick off flip flops and run towards them. No matter how dark it was, you were easily visible in the baby pink dress you’d chosen. The contrast between you and the violent seen before you sente a surge of protectiveness through him. He stood from where he knelt in the sand and quickly crossed the distance towards you.

You slowed as you took in the scene before you, “Rafe?” you whispered, “Rafe, what’s … that’s not …oh my god.”

Rafe grabbed you by your arms, turning your shaking body away. It was a gruesome mess, nothing you should have to see, “He’s dead,” You spoke with wide, terrified eyes, “Wh-Why? You killed him.”

“He’s not dead,” Rafe said quickly, “He’s still breathing … I had to stop him.”

You didn’t listen, you turned your head and saw the unnatural position the man laid in, “Rafe, he’s dead!”

Rafe shook you slightly, “He’s not. I promise.”

“What did you do?” You cried, tears beginning to stream down your cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” He tried to assure you, “I had not. He was going to hurt you, Y/N. Look, he brought …he brought all that shit with him. There was rope in his bag, condoms … I did this for you!”

You shook your head, trying to pull away from Rafe’s bloody hands, “You beat him?” Your voice broke under the weight of your fear, “He’s not moving. You can’t …why would you–”

Rafe’s heart twisted in his chest. He wasn’t the one you were supposed to be afraid of, “He deserved it,” Rafe said, voice quiet and serious, “C’mon, we need to get out of here.”

Rafe tried to pull you but you resisted. Easily, he lifted you into his arms, bloody hands staining your skin and now your dress, “We have to call someone!” You shouted at him, hiccuping through your tears, “Rafe, put me down!”

Rafe ignored you, strides long and steady, carrying you back towards the beachwalk. It was better for Mr. Hayes if the police weren’t involved. Undoubtely, a man like that had a record. Rafe was doing him a favor by only leaving him bloody on the beach.

In his arms, you were powerless. Your mind was reeling. Even in his bloody state, you knew the man there was not who Mr. Hayes had described himself as. Rafe could be right about all of this but it still felt wrong.

In Rafe’s truck, you sat curled up against the door, your knees pulled to your chest. A dark and empty road stretched before you, yacht rock played at a low volume in the background, and Rafe’s heavy breathing was louder than any of your thoughts.

Every few minutes, you stole a glance at him. The tension had yet to leave his body, though he was coming down from the adrenaline. His breathing was heavy but deliberate, as if he was attempting to calm himself, “I didn’t want you to see that, you know that, right?” Rafe said suddenly, breaking through the heavy silence, “Like …I know that was fucked up. You believe me, right? About what I said?”

Your throat tightened so much that your words came out strangled, “I don’t know … what to believe.”

“He was going to hurt you. If I hadn’t stepped in — If I-I hadn’t acted proactively, he would’ve hurt you. He would be hurting you right now. You know that, right?” The brutality of Mr. Hayes’s alleged actions began to cloud Rafe’s actions. He said it over and over. You couldn’t help that now you were imagining it. Maybe this was the only way to rationalize the situation. Maybe you had to believe him.

You saw the items in the sand. You saw that he’d lied about his age, about his appearance, and his intentions. He was the monster. That was the better version. Everything was a lot less wrong that way.

“Y/N,” Rafe spoke again, his deep voice rattling your ear drums, “You know that.”

You finally nodded, “Okay,” You agreed.

“Good,” Rafe seemed to let out a breath of relief. Hands still tight on the steering wheel, he tilted his head back, “He wasn’t some innocent guy. I swear that to you. Like I wouldn’t lie about that shit.”

You nodded until your head started to hurt.

“I did this for you,” Rafe said, “I’m so fucking glad you’re safe now. That’s what matters.”

“Thank you,” You whispered as you wiped the wetness from your cheeks. Your eyes caught on the dried blood that wrapped around in a band on your arm, “...Rafe?”

“Yeah, baby?” Rafe voice turned gentler as he glanced over at you.

“Did you …look at my messages?”

Rafe’s demeanor grew casual, like the worst of his anxieties had passed, “I did what I had to do,” He said, like it was a simple explanation. He didn’t seem concerned at his obvious breach of privacy. Didn’t seem to understand that the pit in your stomach was deepening.

“Then you…”

“Then I know,” He finished and you watched a sinister smile pull at his lips, “Aren’t you relieved? I know and I’m not judging you. I’ve been wanting to figure you out since I met you. And now there’s no secrets between us.”

“Rafe…” You began, your voice trembling as you tried to find the right words, “How could you?”

“I had to,” He insisted, “If I hadn’t, where would you be now? What if he had taken you? Killed you? What would that do to your mom?”

Your brows furrowed, trying to process his words, and the vile images that left in your mind, “The stuff on my phone is …private. It’s private for a reason. I don’t understand.”

“I understand more than you think,” He countered, offering you a patronizing tone, “I know what you want, what you need. I’m happy to give you that. And I’d do a hell of better job than that waste of life on the beach.”

You connected the dots the moment those words left his lips. He wanted to be what Mr. Hayes had been to you. A caretaker. Someone to nurture your most innocent idea.

“Rafe … Ward is married to my mom,” The most logical reason that was a crazy idea came to your mind quickly.

“So?” He replied dismissevly.

“You’re my stepbrother,” Not even that registered with him, “I don’t think …it’s not what I want.”

“You don’t know what you want,” Rafe reached across the console, gently but firmly grabbing ahold of your hand. You stared back at him with wide eyes, your fear obvious especially when he took his eyes off the road, “You’re confused. You were willing to trust a man on the internet when the perfect person to take care of you is right here with you. No one else. Me.”

Feeling trapped, your next thought became calming him down. For fear of him crashing the car or never loosening his grip, you forced your expression to soften, “I know you can protect me,” You nodded your head, “And thank you for that …I shouldn’t have done what I did. It was stupid. I’m …I’m glad you care about me like that.”

Rafe squeezed your hand gently, “Yeah?”

“It’s just a lot to take in. I had no idea …I just thought you were usually annoyed with me,” You said and rafe seemed to exhale, his shoulders loosening, “I trust you, it’s just a lot to process right now.”

“I get it,” Rafe let go of your hand, but gave you no time to feel relieved, because next he placed his strong, large hand on your thigh, “I think we’re good for each other. I just have to show you, Y/N.”

Tannyhill was empty except the two of you. Your heart raced as Rafe led you upstairs to your room, hand firmly on the small of your back. When the door to the bedroom softly clicked behind you, closing the two of you in, you felt like throwing up.

You started to imagine Rafe wandering around, looking through all your things, all without your permission. He felt out of place there in your sanctuary but it was clear he’d made himself comfortable a long time a go. He led you over to the edge of your bed, and shakily, you sat down. He kneeled down in front of you, a position quite to vulnerable and intimate for you.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” He asked, voice deep in concerning. Lifting one of your heels from the ground, he looked closely at your legs, as if checking for an injury.

You shook your head, know the most your body had been through tonight had been at his hands, “I’m okay,” You spoke, your voice small.

Rafe looked up at you, “It’s okay if you’re not, yeah?” Rafe said, voice softening as his hand slid further up your leg. When you pulled your leg back, his grip remained firm, possessive, “Everyone’s gone. I’m asking you to lean on me, princess.”

With no hint of asking for permission, you stared back at your stepbrother. You couldn’t help but feel as if the timing of tonight had worked out eerily in his favor. Everyone in your family was gone for the night and there was no Mr. Hayes to text about your feelings.

“I’m going to run the bath for you,” Rafe decided, lips parted as if he was deep in thought, “Yeah, stay right here.”

“I’m fine, I can do it–” You began as Rafe made his way towards your bathroom.

He held out a finger and you stopped your movements quickly, frozen by the intensity in his gaze, “Stay.”

He didn’t have to raise his voice for you to feel the threat in his tone. Somehow, this version of him was scarier than the one that relentlessly struck a man until he was unrecognizable.

The sound of running water filled the room. Closing your eyes, controlling your breathing, the sound brought you to your routine. That sound of running water was always soothing to you. It was usually how your mind was able to slip into that comforting place on the other side of your mind. Things were lighter there, a place where you had no cares at all, and you enjoyed the things that you’d normally be embarrassed by. You pressed your feet into your fuzzy white carpet, your favorite place to listen to music and do one of your coloring books. You were almost there, the water having tricked you into falling deeper, until you caught a glimpse of Rafe standing behind the door, washing blood away in the sink.

You tightened your eyes even more, shaking your head. This was certainly not the time to let down your guard.

He appeared moments later, drying his hands with one of your pink washcloths, “Come on, let’s get you ready,” He said, his head tilted towards the bathroom, his voice deceptively warm.

Your feet betrayed you and you hesitantly crossed the room. Another door between you and your life before you knew Rafe felt this way. When it closed shut, you realized you’d sealed your fate. How could it be a mistake when this was the place in life where you felt safest? To accept something was wrong meant accepting that you had nowhere left to feel warm, innocent, or child-like.

Fingers caressed your skin, lifting the hem of your dress, gently raising your arms, until you were standing in your underwear. You hadn’t realized you’d started crying again and it didn’t register how badly your lips were trembling until Rafe’s thumb caressed your bottom lip, “You’re okay,” He assured you, “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You’d wanted this desperately, for someone to see you and not want to run away. You wanted someone to take care of you, someone devoted to nurturing you. Your eyes locked on Rafe’s and you felt his palm against your bottom, fingers traveling beneath the fabric of your panties. You kept your head tilted up as he leaned down, pressing lips that were softer than could’ve ever imagined, against your neck.

You melted against him.

Vanilla and strawberry swirled in the air, strong but gentle hands caressed you, and your tears started to feel more like a release than a burden. He kissed the spot on your throat that had gone sore from all tears.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” He whispered and you felt it everywhere.

After removing your bra and panties, he helped you into the bath. Quickly, the blood and tears seemed to leave your skin, as if you’d imagined them. He touched you in a way that more natural, human, than expected. With deliberate care, he moved his hands over you, an act that felt practiced.

Everything dissolved there in the warm bath, the heaviness of the entire night. Bubbles clung to your skin, and your fingers moved lazily over the surface of the water. Rafe washing you, moving a soapy washcloth over your skin, should’ve felt strange but were left in that hazy place where things were simple.

“This is how things are going to be,” You heard him say, “We’ll make it work, okay? You get to be yourself and I’m the one who takes care of you now. I’m your Daddy.”

You’d never said that word out loud. Daddy. It was a faraway concept, a dream …just like the cloud you were floating in right now. You hugged yourself, mind wandering to that soft bed with all of your plushies.

“Say it, princess,” you turned your head to him, mouth parted, eyes curious.

“Say what?” You asked in a whisper, an innocent haze in your eyes.

He smiled. You had done something right. You gave him a soft smile too. He leaned closer, “Say ‘Daddy’,” He commanded softly, “Please, princess.”

Part of you hesitated, knowing you were giving away something precious. The other part wanted to please him, after all, he’d brought you this sense of peace. And maybe the sooner you made him happy, the sooner he’d tuck you into your warm bed, and let this long day finally end.

“Daddy,” You tested out the word on your tongue and though it sounded fragile, his eyes seemed to light up, “...since you said please.”

Nothing could smoulder that spark of satisfaction in his eyes. The look made your heart flutter, a sharp contrast from before when it felt like exploding.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Your cheeks warmed and you turned your face to hide from him. You couldn’t take it when he looked at you like that. That look made it feel like everything was okay.

“I made a mistake,” Your voice came out in a whine. Rafe ran the warm cloth across your back, a reminder of that peaceful bubble he’d created around you.

He shushed you, “You didn’t,” He assured you, “You’re a good person, a good girl. I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.”

His words made you sink deeper. The soft strokes of the warm washcloth, the vanilla-scent against your skin, and the pressure against your most sensitive areas. You felt the tension in your body melt away further.

Slowly, gripping your knees to your chest, you turned your face back towards him, “You can’t tell anybody, Rafe,” You whispered.

“Never,” He said, leaning closer, “Pinky swear?”

Rafe reached his other hand toward you, his pinky finger extended in front of you, moving like he was carefully dismantling some fragile, like a bomb. You stared for a brief movement, surprised and warmed by the gesture. You had no idea Rafe was capable of being so gentle. You unwrapped yourself a little bit, bring your closest pinky towards his hand. Your smaller finger wrapped around his and you were tethered together.

“There, I promise I won’t tell anyone, princess,” He looked at you deeply, “Okay?”

Hesitantly, you nodded, your hand falling gently back into the water, “Let’s get you out of here before you wrinkle up,” He decided and you watched him cross the room to grab your towel hanging from the back of the bathroom door. He walked back with a quiet confidence and his grip was completely sure, deliberate, as he helped you from the tub, “I’ve got ya’.”

He’d wrapped one arm underneath your shoulders and the other beneath your knees, lifting you gently. You imagined pressing yourself into him but a towel soon separated you. You shivered, and instinctually, you wanted to dry yourself but Rafe took responsibility of that as well. He was so close, so protective. It was awkward at first, being able to take care of that mundane task but not having to. You leaned into it, letting your body be soothed by the ritual.

You kept sinking.

“Arms up,” He’d said after bringing you back to your bedroom. He chose an oversized purple t-shirt, designed with small pictures of cartoon pandas. For your underwear, he chose a light blue pair decorated with rainbows. Your eyelids grew heavy and after your first yawn, Rafe lifted you onto the side of your bed, “There you go. All set.”

You crawled into your cocoon further, settling underneat your quilt. You watched Rafe as you settled there, as he moved across the room. Your sleepy eyes widened for a moment, realizing his shirt was gone and that he was fiddling with the zipper of his pants.

It was a threshold you’d never expected to reach, with Rafe or anyone else. The lights flicked off and the bed dipped beside you, your nerves sparked. You grabbed ahold of your lamb stuffed animal, letting that bring you a familiar comfort. Rafe nestled closer to you, his body at ease, relaxed as he wrapped an arm around you.

You did your best to do the same, trying to lean into that same vulnerability you felt when he was bathing you. Warm skin against yours, strong hands on your waist, warm breath against your ear, it was overwhelming, “I-Is this okay?” You asked, breaking the silence.

Looking for reassurance, you turned your head until your noses were almost pressed together.

“Yeah,” Rafe spoke low and smooth, “You okay?”

You nodded quickly, nervously, “I’m okay.”

Rafe pressed a kiss to your forehead and you took a deep breath, letting the feeling sooth your anxiety, “I’ve got you,” Rafe’s fingers ran down your arm then to your waist. He held you there, feeling your flesh there, squeezing, “Daddy’s got you, baby.”

He touched you in new ways, gripped you hard in some places and softer in others. The kiss on your forehead turned into a kiss on your nose and then he placed soft lips against your cheek, “Relax,” He whispered in your ear, “I know you’re sleepy. I’ll do all the work.”

In your state of mind, his words felt like a riddle. What did he mean? You knew you liked his touch and that you wanted to sleep. Rafe knew more than you, clearly, maybe that’s what makes him a good Daddy. You should trust him.

You closed your eyes as you let him press his face into your neck. He kissed you there, finding the most sensitive spot on your skin, and it made your lips part in a soft moan, “Call me Daddy,” He spoke against your skin, “Please, baby? Just say it and I’ll make you feel good.”

“Daddy,” You whispered back hesitantly and Rafe groaned, “D-Daddy.”

“Fuck,” Rafe cursed, grabbing a handful of your bottom, “That’s exactly what I want from you.”

You felt hardness pressing against your upper thigh and you gripped your lamb tighter. You leaned into sleep, letting Rafe move your body as he pleased, only moving your lips to whisper, “Daddy” in Rafe’s ear. He seemed please and you felt a warmness in your center that you wanted more of.

Soon he was on top of you, your legs spread as he sat in between them. He rubbed you there. His rhythm was perfect, his accuracy impeccable, so much that you didn’t have to even move your hips to get the friction you needed. You panted and when you reached your peak, Rafe swallowed your moans, putting his mouth on your lips.

It didn’t fully register to you when Rafe pushed your underwear aside and started to push inside of you. He was so gentle and you were so tired. He pulled your arms to the side, pressing his front against you, but you kept one hand wrapped around the arm of your stuffed animal, “Daddy,” You mumbled, “Daddy”

You winced when you felt all of him, and instinctively, you pushed at his heavy arms, “You’re okay,” He said, and his voice was louder to you than his heavy breathing or the sound of his skin hitting against yours, “You’re doing so good. Daddy’s almost done. You’re gonna make me cum so fast, Y/N. Shit.”

The satisfaction and pride in his words brought almost enough warmth to mask the pain of being stretched by him. You slowly grew used to the feeling but the feeling was so intense and you had so little energy to withstand it, to take all of him.

“Daddy,” You mumbled, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy…”

His thrust slowed but his weight kept you pinned there. He grabbed ahold of your chin and you blinked up at him with sleepy eyes. His mouth was parted, his eyes holding a darkness that you thought had gone away, “Jesus, baby.”

As he shifted to his side, all you could muster was to turn away, pulling your lamb close to your chest and allowing your eyes to flutter shut. Rafe nestled against you once more, his hands gripping your hips until your bottom was pressed firmly against him. You felt the warmth of his lips against your hair, and then his sleepy voice whispered, “Sweet dreams, princess.”

Reblog and comment if you enjoyed, would love to know your thoughts!!

#dark fic #rafe cameron #little space #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #black!reader #rafe cameron x black!reader

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kikiutau · 20 days ago

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RYOMEN SUKUNA: How to Get With Your Boss 8 Days Before New Years

CEO!Ryomen Sukuna x Reader Synopsis You're a chronic overtimer at work and a chronic virgin at home. On night of Christmas Eve, you have the lucky unfortunate pleasure of stumbling across a huge fight between your hot boss and his wife. Safe to say their relationship is over. But as fate (and your ever-reliable right hand man, the elevator) would have it, being in the right place at the right time might just lead to a New Year’s resolution you've been yearning for for years: the overdue expiration of your v-card. Genre Modern au, Office Romance, 18+, Smut, Fluff Content/TW fem! reader, cheating, unprotected sex, voyeurism, things going up into cooch that shouldn’t be in the coochie in the first place, virgin! reader, thigh fucking, food play, rough sex, slight misogyny, degradation, dirty talk, dumbification, humiliation, ooc sukuna because this is an au without trauma (we I stan), spanking, unprotected sex, manhandling, cum eating, squirting, pissing, age gap Word Count 17.4k

Author’s Note: Happy New Years guys! Consider this my gift to you all for the new year! I hope you all enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it Divider by @/cafekitsune

Tuesday, December 24

Christmas Eve

Fuck. Rubbing your swollen eyes, you glared at the circled number on the calendar. A few more days until New Years. And more specifically, 8 more grueling days of a lonely holiday season. A tired groan escaped past your lips.

Feeling the growing tension in your back from being hunched over for hours on end, you leaned back on your chair hoping to release the pressure. Disregarding the mountain of paperwork on your desk, you haphazardly moved them aside to reach for your cell phone.

“Ah!” The universe seemingly out to get you, the screen brightness blinds you for a moment.

You heard a slight thud, signaling to you that the phone you dropped ended up on the floor. Still recovering from eye assault, you don’t grab it right away. Through slight squints, you glanced down at your fallen device.

12:01

Wednesday, December 25

Christmas Day

You let out a quiet “yay.” If there’s one date you were looking forward to, it would be this one. It’s a well-deserved and long awaited break for a distressed and tired office worker like yourself. Working overtime frequently is starting to take a toll on your mental and physical well being— if it hasn't already.

Acknowledging the time, you tell yourself that now would be a good time to start packing up and heading back home. You quickly put on your coat and grabbed your bag, leaving the heaps of files, binders, and loose papers on the desk as a fuck you, capitalism! You don’t get paid enough to care anyways. On a more important note, your sweet, soft bed is beckoning for your arrival.

Right as you headed out of the building, you dug through your bag looking for your phone. “Where,” you dug further, “is it?!”

A frown graced your lips. ‘I… left it in the office, didn’t I?’ you thought to yourself. ‘What an idiot.’

Begrudgingly, you picked your foot off from the ground, and started to slowly make your way back to the Gates of Hell, disguised as those intimidating, tall, glass doors you see more often than the doors of your own home.

As you walk through the lobby, only the clicks of your heels against the cold marble floors can be heard. The lack of human presence sends a small shiver down your spine. During normal working hours, the lobby is usually filled with the sounds of similarly disgruntled employees complaining to their fellow co-workers.

But now, the only thing gracing the place was you. Even the janitors and security are nowhere to be seen. Well, it makes sense considering the time. You were the anomaly here. Only a masochist gets off of work at 12AM when everyone else who works the normal 9 to 5 gets off of work at 4:59.

Well no, you wouldn’t say you're a masochist. You don’t get off to pain. But you were a perfectionist. And you had a tendency to care almost too much about how your co-workers perceived you. So if it meant getting off of work late, you didn’t mind as long as you can get all your tasks done in a timely manner. Besides, you didn’t have anyone to go home to. So why not just stay at work where the heaps of paperwork can accompany you instead.

All your coworkers were sane enough to head home the moment the clock strikes at 5. They’ll stay an hour more if they have to. And for those working overtime, the latest they’ll stay is 8. But, they’ll all shuffle out by the time the sun fully sets, leaving you all alone at your desk.

Honestly, the only other workaholic besides you would be your boss. Your mind lingers at the thought of his muscular frame, pink slicked back hair, tattoos, and the very apparent large bulge—

Hold on. Stop. He’s your boss.

And isn’t he a married man?

You chastise yourself.

Once you stepped in, your hand instinctively reached for the button with a clear “48” inscribed besides it. Standing in the well-lit elevator, you waited for the doors to close.

One second passes. Two seconds passed. Then three seconds. Four Mississippi. Five Mississippi. Six Mississippi. Seven—

“Oh come on!” you rolled your eyes. Tapping your foot, you reached for the button to close the doors and started spamming it like you would when it comes to pressing the attack button on Genshin. “If you don’t close this second, then I’m going to pluck out your buttons and cut your walls with my box cutter!”

The moment that threat left your mouth, the elevator doors closed with a small ding. Ah, even the elevator knew better than to incur the wrath of a stressed out office worker.

You watched the small panel in front of you change numbers in chronological order second by second.

…

Is it just you or is the elevator slower than usual?

After what seems to be a long time, you arrived on your floor. Coming to a full stop almost aggressively, the elevator shakes momentarily giving you a heart attack before opening its doors in a slow manner.

Clenching onto your chest, you make your way out of the wretched box of metal, holding a middle finger up towards the horrid man made product.

The elevator closes its doors with a ding as if it were responding to your obscene hand gesture.

You quickly made your way to your usual area, bending down on your knees to grab your missing phone.

A new message!

You opened the message app to see who texted you.

Friend

Heyyyyyy girlie! So 😏There’s this guy at my workplace.

Single. And he doesn’t look half bad.

And you’re single and mingling.

Sooooo I was wonderinggggg

If I could set you guys up?

Y/N

.-.

Uhhhhhh

You typed out “sure.” Although, you contemplated hitting Send. Too distracted with your thoughts, you failed to hear the ding in the background as well as the angry clicks of heels marching past you.

“YOU ASSHOLE!”

The sudden scream caused you to flinch. What the hell?

A male voice interjected. “If I’m such an asshole, sign the goddamn papers.”

Oh, you recognized that voice. And you hoped you were fucking wrong.

Curiosity got the best of you and from your position, you slowly peaked up from underneath your desk, to check if you're wrong. God you hope you were.

Nope. Congratulations! You win a front row seat to watch this couple dispute— against your own will!

At the other end of the room stood your boss in all his glory; his hair was disheveled and the buttons of his dress shirt were unraveled, revealing a window of opportunity for you to see his well defined pecs. Furrowed brows and an annoyed frown decorated his tattooed face. In front of him, there was a woman dressed in a bodycon type dress, hugging all the right curves, revealing her hourglass figure. Although her face was turned away, you could probably guess that her expression was one far from happiness.

Ok, now you are sure the universe has a personal vendetta against you. First the phone, then the elevator, now this. Not wanting to get caught by any means, you quietly stayed underneath your desk, waiting for the opportunity to leave once the bickering couple finishes their quarreling.

“You know… None of this would happen if you would just…” the woman’s voice cracked. “Sukuna… You’re so cold-hearted. This wasn’t the marriage I wanted for us.”

Sukuna scoffed, starting to feel an onset of a headache. He glared at her momentarily, taking a second to decide whether to rip her to shreds with his words or to let the matter go gracefully. If anything, he wanted to be home right this second—not arguing with his wife at his workplace in the middle of the night. Yet, he decided on the former. He spat out, “At least I didn’t cheat.”

“At least he loves me! With him, I know what love feels like. Unlike you!” his wife exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger towards the man.

One of Sukuna’s eyebrows quirks up. “Loves you?” He takes a few steps towards the woman. “He has a wife and two children, Silvia. If he loves you, then why hasn’t he left them for you.”

The tears Silvia tried to hold in the whole time finally spilled down her cheeks. She couldn’t give him an answer because deep down, she knew her husband’s words were true. His words washed over her like someone threw a bucket of ice water to her head.

Looking up at her husband, she crashed her lips into his. She could no longer bear the ice cold feeling that had enveloped her heart. But at the very least, she could comfort herself with the warm body of the man she currently abhors.

Unexpectedly, Sukuna did not push her away. Their lips remained interlaced as he pushed her down onto one of the desks, leaving scattered papers on the ground. Your heart sobs for the poor unsuspecting owner of that very desk.

Sukuna impatiently tore her dress off as she clumsily worked on the rest of the buttons of his dress shirt. A needy whine escaped her throat when he ripped her panties off. “T-those were expensive,” she mumbled.

In response, he spun her around onto her stomach, forcefully bending her top-half down until she felt her pebbled nipples against the cold, hard desk. He spanked her left ass cheek, chuckling at the slight bounce. Another smack. And another.

Much to Silvia’s displeasure, she couldn’t hold in her unabashed moans. Even if Sukuna’s indifference towards her made him absolutely terrible at daily affection, she had to admit: This man is a literal sex God. Not once has she left the bed unsatisfied.

Silvia wiggled her hips, trying to get away from her husband’s abusive onslaught. In which Sukuna responded with a spank on her bare pussy. “You know,” he bent down to her ear, “I should really punish you for being such a disobedient little slut, whoring yourself out like that.”

Seems like the man relishes in degrading both his employees and his wife.

“Please,” she begged. She pushed her ass towards Sukuna’s bulge, tempting him to punish him even more by rubbing against him.

Now that’s a real masochist right there. Your thoughts come to a full pause when you hear Silvia moan, “Oooh FUCK!”

Sukuna, not one to respond well to taunts, pinches her clit. Happy with her reaction, he gives her slight reprieve, massaging the sensitive area with his thumb. She jerked at the sensation, her body trembling against his.

A laugh echoes within the room. “I can’t believe you’re getting off on this,” Sukuna mocks. He toys with the wetness on his fingers, tapping his pointer and thumb together, watching the way the wet strands stretch every time he pulls them apart. “This is supposed to be a punishment. And you still find pleasure in this?”

Spank.

“I must have trained you really well, haven’t I? I hope Mr. Nakamura enjoyed my cum dump while it lasted.” Silvia whimpered in response.

Spank.

Sukuna’s eyes glared at her reddened ass. “Speak.”

“Y-yes!”

Sukuna let out a little hum, circling around Silvia’s poor, abused clit. Tears—whether it was because of pleasure or pain—dripped down her cheeks. “I’m sorry!” she cried. “I–”

“But even your lover wasn’t enough for you, huh? Here you are, desperate running back to me like a cockdrunk slut,” the tattooed man mocked. “This is a little pathetic, even for you.”

No longer able to deal with the edging, Silvia disregarded his insults, letting go of whatever pride she had left as she pleaded her husband for more. She turned head back towards Sukuna, panting for just something, looking at him with glazed eyes.

Sukuna huffed, stopping his ministrations. He examined her face; her skin was unblemished with hues of blush red, decorating the area around her eyes, nose, and lips. Her lips were slightly swollen as were her eyes. But even then, it did not take away from her apparent beauty.

He married her two years ago. Not out of love but rather out of obligation. In spite of his appearance adorned with numerous tattoos, Sukuna was quite conservative when it came to relationships. The old fucks at those board meetings suggested—no, pressured— the then, 29 year old man to get married as fast as possible. Tired of their constant prodding and pushing, he ended up marrying one of the girls that was introduced by one of the board members he was on good terms with: Silvia.

Sukuna was a person who held great belief in his morals. He found cheaters lousy. And he found those who criticized cheaters but then proceeded to cheat even lousier. If there’s one thing he hates in the world, it’s hypocrites. And he was not about to become one himself. Perhaps it was due to such morals that he remained a faithful husband even if he never felt an ounce of love for this woman— any woman.

Lust, sure. But love? Love was something so vulnerable, so unpredictable. He lived with Silvia and slept beside her for all those years. Not once did Sukuna’s heart waver in the slightest. At most, he could admit that the relationship was comfortable. Silvia was a good wife during their time together. So, at the very least, he treated their marriage as a duty and gave her the utmost respect.

Right. Respect. That’s why he was so angry at his wife who he did not love. She disrespected him. Thinking about it, Sukuna could feel his suppressed rage beginning to simmer. And looking at his Silvia’s horny expression, it gave him enough of a will not to submit to her pleas so easily.

Reaching towards the pocket of his suit jacket, he pulls out his beloved Caran d'Ache Léman fountain pen. He pressed the cool metal towards her slit, causing her to flinch. Slowly, he inserts the rounded point of the pen into her wet cavern.

“Sukuna!” Silvia pouted, unhappy with her current position. Licking his lips, Sukuna rolled his eyes at his wife.

Leaning down towards her, he smirked. “I’m so sorry sweetheart,” he sarcastically replied. “I thought you wanted more. Was I mistaken?” Feeling his wounded pride swell with glee, he continued moving the pen in and out in slow motions.

“I– This wasn’t what I meant!” she stammered.

Spank.

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed. “Manners.”

Silvia groaned, burying her face into her arms. Picking her head back up for one last ditch effort, she pleaded once more. “Please please plea– FUCK! Pleaseeee, can you fuck me? I- I can’t get off.”

Sukuna shrugged, a playful smirk gracing his lips once more. “I don’t need to fuck you for you to get off. You sure found other alternatives during our time apart, didn’t you? I’m certain Mr. Nakamura’s cock was smaller than this pen. And yet you went back to him, again and again. So…”

Heart pounding, Silvia shook her head needlessly. She wanted to refute him but with how overstimulated she felt, she could not even muster a single coherent thought. Sukuna continued on with his ministrations, moving the pen further into her in a downwards motion. “I’m pretty sure you can get off to this.”

Feeling the slight nudge of the pen towards her g-spot, Silvia unwillingly slips into pure bliss. Blood rushed to her head as she was brought to pure ecstasy. Sukuna sounded out her moans, purely focusing on her pussy fluttering witlessly around his fountain pen. Consumed by momentary pettiness, he slipped his pen out of her, refusing to fuck her through her orgasm. However, he waited for her to catch her breath.

Silvia went limp after the shockwaves of her orgasm had subsided. Using the strength that’s left in her arms, she shakily turned around towards her husband. There, he stood with the same indifferent expression she despised. She reached out to him, hoping to continue. Much to her dismay, he stopped her, holding onto her wrists. Before she could even say anything, he placed the christened pen into her hands.

“My lawyer will come to your residency tomorrow. Make sure to sign the divorce papers by then,” he stated, showing his soon to be ex-wife the same poker face he’d show to his company’s board members.

Almost robotically, Sukuna made his way towards the elevators. Luckily for him, he didn’t have to wait for it to come as it was already on the floor. If this elevator was sentient, then at this moment, it recognized that this man was the very man that could scrap it from its existence in just one word. Feeling scared—if it could even feel—the elevator quickly opened and shut its door at an unbeatable speed to prevent incurring Sukuna’s wrath.

A few minutes later, Silvia followed suit. Finally alone, you crawled out from your hiding spot. Your brain short circuited for a while, slowly trying to wrap your head around what happened. When it did…

“What the fuck.” Your mouth fell wide open. “What the fuck.” You put both your hands on your head. “What the fuck.” You paced around in a circle. “What the fuck.” Your head whipped towards the desk the two lovers were previously copulating on. Underneath, you see the sheets of paper haphazardly decorating the floor. In the corner of your eye, you could also spot the lacy black panties Sukuna’s wife left on top of said papers.

Oh. Hell. No.

So that WASN’T a hallucination? An audible groan echoed throughout the office floor. At this point, there was no doubt about it: The universe wants to murder you.

You gave a silent apology towards the elevator who was trying to save your sanity earlier. Unfortunately, you were too stubborn to recognize its efforts. Looking back down at the device that has caused you misfortune, you swiped upwards reaching the home screen. After experiencing your boss' intimate moments with his wife against your will, you suddenly lost the will to continue living, muchless go on a double date. In fact, you don’t feel like going anywhere at all with the amount of bad luck you have at the moment.

Y/N

.-.

Uhhhhhh

Sureygyciwbcuibiwcleboi

Friend

Great!

I confirmed with the guy.

Is the 26th okay for you?

Well, crap. Did you incur the wrath of some God out there? You must have mistakenly sent the text message while you were struggling to crawl to the dark ends of your desk. Giving up on your current situation, you decided to submit to whatever fate has decided for you. You quickly sent a “ok” before moving on to clean up the stacks of documents on your desk since you were already back where you started.

Finishing up, you proceeded to put on your coat, preparing to leave. In the corner of your eye, however, you were once again reminded of the intimate scene. Your chest stirred with an uncomfortable feeling. If the employees came back to work days later with papers on the ground AND a pair of black panties, these nosy folks will surely start talking.

Feeling a sense of pity for the about-to-be-divorced man, you feel your humanity telling you to help Sukuna out. As stern as he was, he was a fair and competent employer who treated his employees well (as long as you didn't get on his bad side). Besides, everyone has days where life simply falls to shit. Sukuna’s just happens to be on Christmas Day (and so is yours).

Grumbling, you open one of the pull-out cabinets below your desk to grab tissues and disposable chopsticks. You then slowly made your way towards the hazard zone. Quickly, you clipped the panties with the chopsticks, throwing it in a nearby garbage bin. As for the papers, you quickly shuffled it into one pile, not caring if they were out of order. For the unfortunate pieces of papers that were tainted with what’s possibly Silvia’s bodily fluids, you threw those out. You assumed your coworkers would much rather face the problem of a few pieces of their paperwork being missing than have to touch the ones christened by cum.

Not all heroes come with capes. In this case, it came in the form of a traumatized overtimer. Not wanting to waste anymore time, you made your way towards the elevator. Somehow, the elevator seemed to be working as normal the second time you used it. Making your way towards the exit, you let out a breath of relief. That relief of yours ended when a familiar voice called out to you.

Slowly, you turned your head to the source. Ah, it’s the devil’s work at play. Mustering whatever strength you had left, you quickly graced the man with your customer service smile. “Hello, Mr. Ryomen. Heading home?”

He responded with a curt nod. “It’s late. I’m surprised you’re still here. I didn’t see you by your desk.” From how close he was to you, you could have sworn he narrowed his eyes for about a millisecond.

The hairs on your neck became stick soldiers; your smile faltered slightly. Running through your mind for excuses, you finally landed on: “I was occupied in the printer room.” You pray to your ancestors that he didn't catch on to your lie.

You assumed your excuse was enough, considering he no longer lingered on the topic. You’re caught off by what he says next though.

“Since it’s so late, let me give you a ride home.”

Your customer service smile dropped as you’re now fumbling to make another excuse. Feeling flustered you blurt out, “Oh no, it’s okay. Thank you so much for the offer though. I actually live nearby so I’ll be–”

Rrrrrrrumble

“You’re going to walk home in this weather?” A teasing smile appears on Sukuna’s face.

Feeling defeated, you let out a nervous chuckle. “I suppose not.”

In Sukuna’s expensive-looking car that probably cost more than your yearly salary, you curse whatever deity is out there for your current position. It was probably 2AM right now, yet why the fuck was there still traffic at this time in the middle of the highway.

“It seems a lot of people are trying to head back to their families for Christmas,” Sukuna blankly stated out of nowhere. You slightly jumped at his sudden comment, not expecting him to speak after sitting in awkward silence for a good 20 minutes.

You hummed in agreement. You also assumed that the sudden snowstorm had something to do with the onslaught of traffic. You kept that thought to yourself though, not wanting to entrench yourself into further awkward small talk with Sukuna. Bringing your attention back to the traffic, you wondered if the insistent begging in your head would get the cars to move any quicker. Unfortunately for you, it was to no avail.

Glancing to the window on your right, you tried to distract yourself with the scenery of cityscapes. Your plan was foiled when you noticed Sukuna’s reflection in the mirror. Pretending to look outside, your gaze centered on the enticing image. Sukuna seemed to have fixed his unkempt hair, keeping it in the usual slicked back hairstyle he usually adorned. The same went for his white dress shirt that he seemed to have buttoned up, leaving the top two unbuttoned.

You focused on his hands. One on the steering wheel, impatiently tapping against the leather; the other hand on the gear shift. You wondered how it would feel if he fingered you–

Stop.

You could feel your ears burn with embarrassment. Save your horny thoughts when you’re not a foot away from him. ‘Not now,’ you tell yourself. Trying to move on from your thoughts, your eyes focused on something else. You slowly made your way up to his face where now you could see him looking right at you. You jerked your head downwards, avoiding looking at his reflection staring right into your skull.

Wait, does that mean…? You slowly cranked your head towards the direction where the man was sitting, only to be faced with him looking straight at you.

“Who would have thought I’d be spending Christmas with my favorite employee?” he drawled, emphasizing the favorite.

You got caught off guard. Luckily, you recovered fairly quickly. “Who would have thought I’d be spending Christmas with my favorite boss?” you quipped back.

He barked out a laugh, “I’m your only boss, princess.” .

Chuckling, you shrugged. “Still stands.”

“You got any plans for Christmas? You must be looking forward to spending time with your family and friends,” he comments.

You swallowed the imaginary ball in your throat. “Ah, well. They’re all overseas. So, I probably won’t be seeing them this year. The plane tickets are horrendously expensive this time of year.”

“At least you have that boyfriend of yours from the sales department.”

“Pardon?”

A bewildered look occupies your face. What boyfriend? You’ve been alive for a good 23 years and you have yet to even hold hands with a boy. At this point, you’ve gotten your PhD degree in singleness. Flustered, you shook your head. “I-uh. I don’t have a boyfriend.”

He smirked. “Good to know.”

Did he just play you?

“Mr. Ryomen!” His deep laughter fills the small space. When it subsided, he gave you a cocky grin.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop teasing you.” He reached one of his hands towards your face, brushing a strand of stray hair behind your ears. Before you could say anything, that hand is right back on the gear shift.

Thankfully, the traffic in front started to clear up. During the drive, you probably learned more about him than you did working 4 years at his company when you started as an intern at 19 years old. For one, he has a younger brother. He also has a hobby of tinkering with motorcycles. And if you didn’t already assume earlier on in your career, he clearly had a fondness for fucking with people (and fucking his wife, but you keep that to yourself). Thankfully, the apprehension you felt earlier was completely dispelled by the casual conversation he started.

Before you knew it, he reached your apartment complex. You promptly thanked him for the car ride, making your way out of the vehicle. “Have a Merry Christmas, y/n.”

“You as well,” you responded. Your tongue immediately sour when you remembered the fact that Sukuna was getting divorced during the holidays (not that he knew that you knew). Oh crap. Why did you have to say that? It felt as embarrassing as telling the movie theater employees “you too” when they tell you to enjoy the movie. Luckily, Sukuna didn’t seem phased, as if he didn’t serve his wife divorce papers on Christmas day. He simply smiled, nodding in your direction before driving off.

Thursday, December 26

You sipped on your cocktail, staring endlessly at the shiny chandelier hoping it would cure your boredom. A part of you also hoped the shiny thing would fall right on top of your date.

“So I’m looking for someone who would…” Blah blah blah.

You drowned out the sounds of your date’s rambling. This self-absorbed piece of shit. All he would talk about was himself. His next favorite topic being the type of girls who turned him on and the type of girls who turned him off. Then all you could remember was his ramblings about how “women nowadays are not the same anymore…” Something along the lines of that. Fed up, you have half a mind to just straight up tell him to date his own mother rather than trying to find a poor girl to be his in-home maid and incubator. You held your tongue, knowing nothing good would occur from initiating a fight with this guy.

My god. Where did your friend even find this narcissistic bastard? You start to question HER taste in men. Purely based on appearance, the blabbermouth looks decent. But even his face card couldn’t fix his trash personality. It’s like covering yourself with perfume when you haven’t taken a shower in a month.

You pray to your ancestors, hoping for someone to get you out of this blind date. It was as if your prayers were answered when a familiar pink-haired man walked out of the restaurant’s private rooms with another man who you could only infer to be a client. You didn’t know if it was your ancestors working some magic or if it was simply pure coincidence. If it was the latter, then it seemed too improbable to be mere chance.

You didn’t even need to yell out a “help” when Sukuna excuses himself from his current conversation, making his way towards you. You jutted out lips, pouting almost dramatically. You only hope Sukuna could decipher the desperate energy leaking out of your eyes.

“Ms. y/l/n, did you forget you had an appointment with me?” Sukuna looked down at his watch. “In fact, you’re late.”

“Wait, you can’t just–”

A menacing glare shuts up the good-for-nothing. Taking this opportunity, you quickly grab your belongings, interlocking your arm with Sukuna’s, not even giving your date a chance to say goodbye.

Once again, you're in Sukuna’s vehicle once again. Although this time it’s red instead of the usual black you noted to yourself. “I thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend,” Sukuna teasingly comments.

You grumbled, “He isn’t my boyfriend. My friend just happened to set us up on a blind date. Well, you know how it went. Anyways, how did you know I needed help getting out of there?”

“You were never good at hiding your emotions,” Sukuna answered. “Not now. And certainly not then.”

“Really? I didn’t even get slightly better?” you prodded. “Am I really that obvious?”

“Yes.” To him. Although he wasn’t one to linger on office rumors, he couldn’t help but notice the comments in regards to you. People said you were a vivacious one; that’s one rumor he could agree with. Some said that you were dating someone from the sales department; he thought that was true, until you debunked it yesterday. Many of your co-workers called you hardworking; he agrees. Quite frankly, you had a clean reputation. Almost too clean. So clean and perfect, in fact, he almost forgot about the 19-year-old, hot-headed intern who possessed an ego so inflated it rivaled a 10-foot pole.

Flashback

Sukuna (28) grumbled, impatiently pressing on the elevator buttons. Fuck, one day he’s going to completely replace this box of metal with a more efficient elevator. Just as the elevator doors were about to close…

“Wait! Bro! Can you hold the elevator doors for me?!”

Although he certainly looks like the type to close the elevator doors on someone, he’s not completely heartless. Besides, he wondered which employee was brave enough to casually call him “bro.” Quickly, Sukuna clicked the button to open the doors.

Unfortunately for the desperate girl on the other side, she watched in distress as the space between the two doors got closer and closer together until… closed.

“Fuck!” She kicked the elevator doors. “You nincompoop!”

Just as the insult left her mouth, the elevator immediately opened its door, leaving a wide- mouth country girl staring right back at red-piercing eyes.

‘Oh. A new face.’ Sukuna thought.

The girl gulped, deciding whether or not she should ditch the elevators for the flight of stairs instead. Essentially, would she rather face humiliation or kill herself walking up 40 flights of stairs before her interview. Suddenly she remembered the wise words her mother told her before she walked through the TSA gates: You must walk through life as if you have the balls of a cis-gendered male tiger.

Whatever that meant. So, the elevator it was!

She stepped into the confined space shared by the other remaining person staring bullets into her head. Cold sweat adorned her back as the elevator doors closed.

“So who’s a nincompoop?”

‘Ah fuck,’ the girl cursed in her head. ‘I should’ve just taken the stairs T^T’ She tried to calm herself down by chanting her mom’s advice. ‘Balls of a tiger. Ball of a tiger.’

Finally getting a proper look at the guy, she almost pees her pants. This guy was definitely over 6ft. 6’3? 6’4? 6’5? At her measly 5’0 ft, she couldn’t tell for sure. And the man had very noticeable tattoos adorning both his face and his arms from what she could tell. Did she bump into a gangster?

No matter. It’s not like she hasn’t come across gangsters in her high school days. In fact, she once chastised a gang member at her school once so confronting them wasn’t an issue— except this time it was a grown adult man two heads taller than her.

The girl huffed, puffing her chest out, trying to be intimidating (although unknowingly having the opposite effect). “You are,” she plainly stated.

“Hn?” Sukuna clicked his tongue. Rolling his eyes he flicked the girl’s forehead with his finger, “Are you a child? When I was in grade school, not even the kids would call me that.”

'Yeah, I'd doubt they'd say anything to you with that face of yours,' she thinks to herself, silently. Thankfully. Unfortunately, it would turn out to be her only wise decision from this point on.

Sukuna scanned the girl, starting from her broken heels, to her dress shirt that’s improperly buttoned, finally landing onto a youthful complexion staring right back at him. The audacity of this girl. “Are you lost, brat? The middle school is four blocks away,” he mocked.

Okay, now that was pushing it. “Rude!” Looking deeply offended, she pointed a finger towards the man. “Fuckwad! Asshat! Jackass!” Sukuna had never heard so much profanity come out of a girl’s mouth before. Even she had him admitting to himself that her colorful sailor vocabulary probably rivaled his.

It was hilarious.

He lets out a loud cackle. Judging by the furrow of the girl’s eyebrows deepening, he probably pissed her off even further.

Ding

“Hmph.” Sukuna watched as the girl marched out. Although very quickly, she snapped her head back at Sukuna. “You! I’m going to report you!”

Sukuna's coy smile widened even further. “Go ahead.” What was HR going to do? Fire him?

(P.S. At this point in time, Sukuna's small company didn't even have a human resources department. He WAS HR. )

His answer made the girl more frustrated, as she audibly groaned. “Whatever,” she muttered.

Hearing another ding, Sukuna quickly asked, “What’s your name?”

The girl’s head perked up. Her annoyed face contorts to one of apprehension. The elevators are close to closing before she yells out–

“y/n”

Flashback Ends

Sukuna couldn’t contain his grin when remembering the first time they met. “What’s so funny?” you questioned, almost creeped out by his sudden grin.

“It’s a secret,” he says. Not wanting to pry any further, you let him be. Much to your dismay, he brought you to your apartment complex fairly quickly, meaning your conversation was cut short once again. You could feel your heart throb. Wait… did you feel disappointed? Sad? You couldn’t exactly pinpoint the exact feeling. You admitted that it was unfortunate these conversations will come to an end though; the two of you will probably go back to the monotonous role of employer and employee who only spoke on matters regarding work.

Your walk up to your apartment was melancholy at the very least. You thought about how your relationship with Sukuna changed over the four years you knew him for. Your meeting didn’t start off the greatest with the man relentlessly teasing you. Even if you were the one who caused it to occur in the first place. That’s a fault you stubbornly won’t admit to though.

And then when you got hired as an intern, your spirit was undeniably fucked when you found out the man who teased you in the elevator was the CEO and founder of Ryomen Tech Corporations.

Thankfully for you, Sukuna wasn’t one to hold deeply held grudges. Although unfortunately for you, the teasing did not stop at all. He’d make those annoying comments to irk you and you’d banter back, unable to hide your apparent dislike for the man. Things like hierarchy was definitely less structured back then when the company only contained a small team of 13 people.

When you interviewed, the company was still a new tech startup at the time. Before that, Ryomen Sukuna worked as a freelance coder and web developer (and hacker) after graduating from a small university for a few years. Impressively, despite having nothing to his name, he was able to push his way through. Ryomen Tech Corp. became a million dollar company in a span of a year. Year by year, more investors came shuffling in, and profits continued to rise exponentially. As of right now, Sukuna's net worth is in the billions, an achievement unheard of in four years.

Stepping back and surveying Sukuna's extraordinary achievements within four years, you couldn't help but acknowledge his competence and admire his success. Despite his teasing nature, you discovered he possessed a charismatic charm when interacting with investors, clients, and other industry leaders.

That Sukuna felt detached, almost unrecognizable. It was hard to believe that the man who mercilessly teased you was the same individual responsible for such remarkable feats. You felt a tinge of selfishness, clinging to the hope that things would remain unchanged, that your relationship could continue as before.

However, his marriage brought an abrupt halt to this illusion. Visits to your desk for lunchtime teasing dwindled, leaving you to eat alone, bereft of the familiar rumble of his cackles and the cacophony of laughter from your colleagues. The teasing text messages, once a constant, gradually decreased, until his name sank to the bottom of your contact list. Soon, he faded from your life as subtly as he had entered it.

You didn't reach out to him, either. Perhaps it was your tendency to put yourself on a moral high ground, or perhaps it was your wounded ego, but you convinced yourself that pursuing a relationship—even a platonic one—with a married man was inappropriate.

Fumbling through your bag, you searched for your keys. Where. Is. It. You dug through your bag more haphazardly, your heart starting to race. Why. Does. This. Keep. Happening. Your search for your keys came to a small pause however when you noticed your phone rang.

The caller ID on the phone's glowing screen displayed a name you had almost forgotten, buried beneath a haze of forgotten memories. It was as if a sudden gust of wind had swept away the fog, bringing that name back into sharp focus.

Nincompoop

Without giving much thought, you quickly picked up the phone. “Hello?” you answered.

The familiar voice responds back, one that was deep and reminded you of velvety red wine, one that immediately quells your beating anxiety. “I think you forgot something, princess.” Just from his voice, you can tell he probably has his signature annoying smirk on the other end of his call. Quiet from disbelief, you didn’t answer. "Hello?" he prompted gently, concern lacing his voice.

Silence.

Geez. Did you forget how to speak?

Panicked, you moved from your spot, only to unknowingly stub your toe at one of the trashbags by your neighbor’s bag. “Ow!” you exclaimed. Was there steel in that thing? You let out a pained groan, bending down to pat the outer layers of your shoe, hopefully aiding with the pain. Side note: It did not help.

Hearing that you were present on the other end, Sukuna mumbled something on his end. You were unable to catch what he said though. By the time the pain subsided, you noticed that the call ended.

Wait. What did Sukuna say, again?

A sudden jingle broke through your thoughts. You looked up to see Sukuna standing by the elevator. He held up a set of keys, dangling them in front of him. "Found these in my car," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Seems someone forgot something."

Your jaw dropped. So, that's what he meant. He found your keys.

Sukuna bent down to eye level with you, slowly examining you from head to toe. “You okay?” he asks.

“Uh huh. I just stubbed my toe. I’m alright now.” Your face is burning with shame. “Anyways, you didn’t have to come all the way up here. Thank you though.” You gave him a slight nod, taking your keys from his hand. Grabbing your arm, he helped you up. Feeling the heat spreading to your ears, you thanked him once again. ‘If there’s a merciful God out there, please bury me six feet underground right now,’ you pleaded in your head.

"No problem," he said. Sukuna paused, his gaze lingering on you. "Besides," he added, a playful glint in his eyes, "Wouldn't want you wandering around aimlessly, now would I?"

You felt your cheeks burn even hotter. "Very funny," you muttered, trying to regain your composure. You turned towards him asking, "Would you like some water or snacks? As, uh, thank you."

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. Knowing you were the type of person who didn't like to owe favors, he accepted. Besides, a part of him was curious about what your living space was like. They say someone's home is a reflection of one's personality. Wait... When did he become so nosy?

You led him into your apartment, feeling a strange flutter in your stomach. This was definitely not how you expected your evening to unfold. You were about to offer him a seat by the living room couch when you noticed his gaze on the framed photographs on the wall.

He pointed to one photo. “Your parents?”

“Yep,” you grinned. “I look like them, don’t I? “

His gaze lingered on your face, tracing the shape of your eyes, noses, and lips. “You do. Compliments to your mother,” he breathed, a genuine admiration in his voice.

“T-thanks,” you stammered, avoiding his gaze. “She always said I looked more like my dad.”

Sukuna chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through the air. "I beg to differ," he said, his eyes twinkling. He gestured towards the couch. “Mind if I sit down? My feet are killing me.” You quickly offered him a seat, feeling a strange mix of nervousness and excitement. In the meantime, you went into the kitchen to prepare his snacks.

The familiar hum of domesticity filled the small apartment as you carefully gathered your items on the counter. You busied yourself with arranging the fruit platter on the kitchen counter — apples, grapes, strawberries, and cherries. You tried to focus on the task at hand, but your mind kept replaying Sukuna's words. “Compliments to your mother.”

What did that even mean? Was he just being polite? You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He was sitting on the couch, his long legs stretched out, looking relaxed. He was running a hand through his hair, a contemplative expression on his face. Sukuna leaned back against the cushions, gazing at the ceiling. “You know,” he began, his voice a low rumble, “I was thinking... about relationships.”

You, startled by his sudden observation, almost choked on your saliva. “You were?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. Seeing your parents' picture got me thinking. How do people... how do they know when they've found the right person?”

You set down your knife, intrigued. “I don't think there's a single answer to that question.”

Sukuna nodded in agreement. “Maybe not. But what do you think?”

You pondered this for a moment, tapping your fingers on the kitchen counter. "Well I can’t speak for others but for me, I value respect and communication. I think when it comes to finding that person, maybe a little bit of luck comes into play."

Sukuna raised an eyebrow. "Luck?"

"Luck and timing," you continued, "meeting the right person at the right time and place. There was a book I read in high school where two of the characters were refugees in war and they ended up falling in love with each other. But by the end of the book, I couldn’t help but wonder: Were they truly in love, or did they simply convince themselves they were in love due to the shared circumstances? If there was never a war in the first place, would they fall in love all over again if they were to meet each other under different circumstances?”

You continued to ramble. “You’ve read the hunger games right? Or at least familiar with the movies?” Sukuna nodded, motioning you to continue. “I’m going to use Katniss and Peta as an example. If they weren't forced to fight for their lives in the arena, would they still have fallen for each other? Would their love story have blossomed under different circumstances? Or was it the shared trauma, the constant fear of death, that forged their bond?"

Sukuna watched you intently, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. He thought of his own marriage, a gilded cage built on societal expectations and a desperate need to conform. He paused his thoughts, focusing on the girl in front of him, a rare vulnerability creeping into his eyes. "But you know sometimes…the most profound connections can be born from the most unexpected circumstances,” he confesses quietly.

“Oh yeah by the way. I got divorced today,” he says out of nowhere, in the most nonchalant manner.

The cup of water you were sipping on suddenly clattered in the sink. You ended up choking because the water went down the wrong pipe. “What?!”

“My wife was unhappy with our marriage. She cheated on me. I told her to sign the divorce papers yesterday. And today she signed it,” Sukuna answered as a matter of fact.

You knew.

You were there when he had that argument with Silvia, unbeknownst to him. But hearing him tell you is a whole different story. “I’m sorry that happened,” you automatically responded, after recovering from your near death experience.

He let out a laugh. “Don’t be,” he shrugged, almost too nonchalant for your comfort.

You carefully laid the fruit platter and an unopened bottle of wine on the living room coffee table. You then positioned yourself beside Sukuna, maintaining a slight distance. He reached for a plump grape, popping it into his mouth with a satisfying crunch.

"Since I'm letting you in on a secret," Sukuna began, his gaze fixed on the remaining grapes, "let me know one of yours. Like how the breakup with your boyfriend went."

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't have a boyfriend?" you retorted, a touch of exasperation in your voice.

Sukuna smirked. "Currently you don't. But surely you had a lousy boyfriend back in college?”

You shook your head.

“High school?”

You shook your head once more.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief in his expression. "Never?"

"Nope," you confirmed, feeling a strange sense of pride in your solitary existence. Then you remembered the endless ramblings of your mother and aunties about finding a boyfriend, reverting that feeling of pride back to a familiar dejection.

Feeling a sudden wave of defensiveness you start to ramble making excuses why you weren’t dating—why you have never dated. “I’ve never been sought after romantically in my teenage years. And even when my friends set me up on blind dates, it would never work out. At some point I just assumed I wasn't built out for romantic relationships so… ”

You practically word-vomited on the spot, your mind unable to keep up with your mouth. From your sexual history (or rather lack of), to the countless of failed blind date stories, to that one boy who rejected you in highschool… all of it came spilling out.

The more you rambled, the more you wanted to dig yourself into a hole. But even then, you continued to talk, almost against your will as you had a poor habit of avoiding awkward situations by rambling… only to make it more awkward for yourself by the end.

“A-anyways,” your whole ramble, rant, whatever the fuck that was, finally coming to an end.

While you were mentally hitting yourself in the head, Sukuna, on the other hand, seemed to revel at your current mental state, the corner of his mouth raised.

“So you’ve never orgasmed before, huh,” he drawled, his smile almost menacing. Ah, fuck. Was he going to now tease you relentlessly with that newfound information?

“So what?” you exclaimed, your arms and legs now crossed. “ It’s not my fault my body is literally built for failure in both departments of romantic love and self love.”

Sukuna had an unreadable expression on his face.

Immediately feeling some sort of regret, you tried to remedy the situation. “O-oh. It’s uhh not a big deal though. I could always go out and find a one night stand to help me with my needs. I-I mean…” Crap. You couldn’t even look the man in the face.

While your face was turned away from him, you heard the pop of the bottle cork. Curious, you watched as Sukuna poured himself a pretty tall glass of wine. He took a long sip, the red liquid swirling in the glass.

Silence.

He set the glass down on the coffee table, the sound echoing unnaturally in the sudden silence. You finally dared to look him in the eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes were narrowed, a predatory glint in their depths.

“You know,” he said, his voice stretched out in a long drawl, “If you would like, I can offer myself as a demonstration.”

Your breath hitched. "What?"

Sukuna, leaning closer, his breath fanning your face. “Do I have to repeat myself?”

Almost as if your body had a mind of its own, you found your lips millimeters away from his. Just as your lips were about to touch, you pulled away. With a soft thud, you fell back onto the couch, your hand covering the lower half of your face. “I-uh. I don’t know how to…” you paused for a moment before whispering, “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

Sukuna's gaze, intense and predatory, swept over you. “Well, then,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, “it seems like I have my work cut out for me.” He caresses your hand with his thumb before leaning down, his whole body on top of you.

Bringing his lips to your hands, he teasingly licks it to get a slight reaction out of you. He then gently nips the skin, his teeth grazing your knuckles. Making out with the back of your hand, a rush of warmth flushed throughout your body as you imagined the same sensation on your lips instead.

You jumped a bit when you felt his tongue once more. Slowly, he traced his tongue towards your fingers, then entwining his hands with yours, pulling it away from your face. Sukuna’s gaze then flickered towards you, watching the rheumatic motions of your chest rising and falling.

He pulls your hand towards his chest.

“Can I keep going?”

Your heart pounded in your ears, a quick, rhythmic beat that drowned out the howls of the wind outside. Breathlessly you answer, “Please.”

Sukuna cursed, his warm hands on you almost immediately. His lips parts, closing the space between you two.

Sweet. With a tinge of bitterness from the red wine. You tell yourself how you could get drunk on his taste; he tastes so much better than the cocktail you were sipping earlier on your blind date.

Trying to keep up with him, you hesitantly imitate the kisses he gave your hand earlier. You feel a faint smile on his lips which brings flutters to your stomach. Feeling slightly more confidence, you keep going.

Just as you clench the back of his shirt, Sukuna pulls away from you. “Smart girl,” he whispered. “Are you up for another challenge?”

Not waiting to hear for your response, Sukuna reaches for the fruit platter, specifically breaking off the stem of one of the cherries. He places it on his tongue before coming back to meet your lips once again. However this time, you find his tongue meeting with yours.

You involuntarily moan, feeling almost overwhelmed at the moment. Pressed up against him, you could feel his erection pressed against his thighs.

Even though the two of you were already pressed up against each other, Sukuna somehow manages to deepen the kiss between you two, teasing you with his tongue. You squirm at the sensation.

Feeling Sukuna push the cherry stem towards your tongue, you push back the stem with a competitive vigor. Thus, starting the battle of dominance between the two of you.

Surprisingly, Sukuna is the first to part from you, sitting straight up on his knees. He stuck his tongue out showing you the knotted cherry stem sitting right on his palate.

Fuck.

He places the knotted stem on the coffee table before turning towards you and smirking. “A souvenir for remembrance,” he teases. Sukuna turns his attention back towards you, giving an onslaught of kisses down your neck. In the meanwhile, he hikes your skirt down, leaving you only with a pair of panties left to cover whatever dignity you had left.

“She’s soaked,” he whispers, talking to himself as if you weren’t in the room. Almost by instinct you closed your legs, only for him to spread it apart for his perverted eyes to see.

“I want to see you touch yourself,” he bluntly stated with absolutely no shame at all. “It’s the least you can do after I gave you such an intricate lesson.”

You turn immediately red at the memory.

He pecks your flushed cheeks, before moving to peck your nose. “You’ve done such a good job for me so far,” he praised. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed now~”

“W-Who said I was?” you stubbornly stuttered out loud, trying to hide your nervousness (although failing majorly).

Sukuna laughed before helping you out of your shirt. And before you know it, your bra is off within seconds, leaving you bare for him to witness. The only piece of clothing you have left is the panties he oh so graciously left on, although you doubt it did anything to hide how naked you felt.

Sukuna bites his lips, the corners of his mouth raised ever so slightly. ‘She’s going to be the end of me,’ he thinks, watching you as you hesitantly reach for your tender breasts, squeezing your pebbled nipples.

He snaps the band of your panties, then slowly—almost teasingly—raking it down your thighs. Sukuna licks his lips, staring at your wet, leaking pussy. He almost swears it called his name.

Moving one hand down, you reach for your clit, softly circling around it. You focused on looking at your hand, almost physically unable to look up at Sukuna, worried your heart would stop if you were to see his face.

You continue to pleasure yourself, although unable to reach your high. Much to your displeasure, you never had the experience of reaching an orgasm ever since finding out about the wonders of womanhood at the age of 16. Sure you’d watch videos and read tons of articles on how to reach an orgasm, but never once have it worked for you. At some point, you accepted the fact that you were physically incapable of orgasming.

Under the careful watch of Sukuna’s eyes, he seemed to have noticed you have reached a plateau. “Here, let me help you,” he murmured. Taking your hands in his, he guides you, pressing your fingers down firmer on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

At some point, your hands ended up clenching his wrists, as he directly played with your clit instead. Suddenly feeling a new sensation, you panic. “Haa! Ngh! W-wait. I feel like I’m going to–”

He keeps going. And in that moment, you lose yourself. Completely. Your body spasmed underneath his watchful gaze, like a predator watching its prey. And underneath that primal gaze was one of sadistic pleasure, just waiting to strike.

Sukuna bites the insides of his mouth, trying to hold himself back from listening to the voices in his head, telling him to pound you down on the couch at this very moment. He clenches his hands into a fight fist, drawing blood.

Million of thoughts surges through his head. It’s like a tangled mess of desires and reason, pulling him in every direction at once. He wants you. He can’t deny that.

However, as much as he yearns for you, he reminds himself of the facts. You’re not here for that. He wasn’t here to be your lover, or to play the part of some fairy-tale prince in the background of your life. No. In fact, he’s far from that. If anything, he’s like a starving wolf just waiting to devour you at any moment.

Sukuna was doing you a favor. That’s all it was. He’s not a romantic interest. It was simply a one night stand— just minus the fucking. And wouldn’t it be so much better if you remember your first time with the person you choose to love rather than an impulsive decision to fuck around with your boss one night. Yeah. He nods to himself internally. Nothing more, nothing less.

Sukuna silently waits as you come down from your high. Labored breathing fills the room.

“How is it?” he asked smugly.

You take a few more gulps of air before answering. “Good.”

“Just good?”

You pouted at his teasing. “What? Do you want a rating?”

Sukuna laughed in response. “I wasn’t expecting that but now that you mention it, I’m curious.”

Smiling, you rolled your eyes. “4.9 out of 5.”

Sukuna’s eyebrows raised. “4.9? Where did my missing 0.1 go?”

From your position, you playfully kicked the side of your abdomen. “It’s for your ego. Someone needs to keep it in check.”

Sukuna chuckled darkly, clearly entertained by your response. “Is that so?” he mused, running a hand through his hair. “I suppose it’s a good thing you’re the one keeping it in check, then.”

You raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-wary. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He doesn’t answer. His only response was playfully taking a bite on the same leg that kicked him. Feeling the strong urge to respond back to his teasing, you take your other free leg to nudge the prominent bulge in between his legs.

A low groan escapes his lips. “Fuck. You’re going to end up murdering me in cold blood one day.”

To your surprise, he slides himself off the couch and stands up.

“Wait!” You grabbed his wrist before he could walk away from you. “But what about you?” You reach for his erection, only for him to stop you.

“Don’t worry about me, princess.”

Your eyes filled with worry. “But I want you to feel good too.”

You watched as Sukuna cursed under his breath. He pushes you back down on the couch, joining you once more. “Safe word is red. Red to stop, yellow to slow down, got it?”

You nod. Unbuckling his belt, unzipping the zippers of his trousers, he finally gives himself slight relief when he takes out his cock.

8 inches in all its glory. Hard. Flushed red, with a bead of pre-cum peaking through at the tip.

In your head, you do a mental backflip. Never mind. You take it back. You don’t think that’ll fit anyways.

“Close your legs together,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. Although he says that, he’s the one closing the gap between your legs, proceeding to place them on his shoulders. Speechless, you watched as he brought his cock closer and closer to you until he’s placing it between your lips, coating his appendage with your cum.

“Haah... Oh!” You're surprised when he drags his cock over your clit, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. You could have sworn you got even wetter than you already were.

Once wet, Sukuna takes his time, slowly sliding his cock between the plush flesh of your thighs. He groans, his head falling back as you watch his Adam's apple throb.

Sukuna starts out slow. Apart from your labored breathing, you could hear the wet faps everytime he moves his hips, gliding his cock cover your wet cunt. A sob of pleasure washes over you when his cock brushes against your clit. You came, your entire body convulsing with overstimulation.

By this time, Sukuna had quickened his pace, the couch sliding across the floor with each drag of his hips. With his cock pumping in and out, he gave your thighs the same hue of red as the flush on your cheeks.

“I’m going to–” With a loud groan, Sukuna came. Thick, hot strands of his cum splattered on your stomach, with a few drops reaching your breasts as well. He continues to half-heartedly thrust until his high faded. Panting heavily, eyelids fluttering, he takes his sweet time memorizing the image of your body rightfully decorated with his seeds. If he were to be hit with a truck right now, he would die a happy man.

Snapping back to reality, Sukuna gently places your legs down, turning towards the coffee table to grab a few tissues. When he glanced back towards you, his eyes widened.

You were sat up—prettily so, he might add—licking his cum off your fingers. At the sight, Sukuna Jr. became hard again, ready for round two. Sensing his stare, you looked right back at him, a smirk adorning your lips. Maintaining eye contact, you gathered the rest of his cum on your fingers, licking it once more.

'What a damn minx,' the man thought, unable to take his eyes off you. His eyes darkened, wanting to revert back to his primal urges to just take you for himself.

Fuck him.

Sukuna smashes his lips against yours, tasting the remnants of himself. But no matter, because all he could focus on at the moment was you.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifts you effortlessly and carries you to the bathroom.

Once inside, he places you on the vanity. “Let’s not go any further he tells you,” he insisted, nudging his forehead against yours. You cocked your head to the side, confused. “If we go any further, I don’t think I can control myself.”

‘Then don’t,’ you thought.

Sukuna was really hanging on his last thread here. Thankfully for him, you just nodded, deciding to not push the matter any further.

Friday, December 27th

Cold.

It was cold.

The warmth of the blankets is the only thing that keeps the biting chill of the morning from nipping at your cheeks and nose. You snuggle deeper into them, wishing you could just stay there forever. As you shift, you feel the soft, steady pressure of his arm around you. You awaken, heart quickening, not used to another human presence in your bed.

Noticing who the person was, you immediately relaxed. Although that came to a quick stop, once you noticed the shirtless torso staring right back at you. Glancing down, you realized you were naked too.

Fully awake now, you race through your memories of last night. Right after your… uhh… Sukuna’s assistance in helping you further understand your womanhood, he brought you to the bathroom. You two then made out on the bathroom vanity. Then, the two of you showered. He was shampooing your hair and then… blank.

You couldn’t remember anything after that.

Crap.

You looked at the man beside you, his face impossibly serene. His hair is adorably messy, strands falling across his forehead, and his lips are slightly parted as soft breaths escape him. The sight makes your heart swell, bringing a grin to your face.

Carefully, you reach out, feeling mischievous, you gently booped his nose. The contrast between your cold touch and his warmth stirs him. He scrunches his nose, his lashes fluttering as he slowly blinks awake. His sleepy eyes meet yours, and lazily blinks for a few seconds. He then wordlessly nuzzles his face against your neck, breathing in your scent.

A soft, muffled groan escapes him as his nose brushes against your skin. “Cold,” he mutters groggily, his voice a deep rumble that makes you giggle. Despite his complaint, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he wraps his arms around you tighter, effectively trapping you against his warm, bare chest.

“Good morning,” you greeted, running your fingers through his messy hair.

“Mornin’,” he yawns back.

For a moment, the two of you linger in the warmth of the blankets, both wordlessly agreeing that you guys would much rather stay in your current positions for the rest of the day. But the sound of your alarm buzzing from the nightstand breaks the spell. He groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Nope. I refuse. Let’s just call in sick.”

You laugh, giving his shoulder a playful shove. “We can’t do that, Mr. CEO. Come on, get up.” He pouts in response and you can’t help but inwardly squeal at how much he seems to resemble a sulky cat.

Reluctantly, he loosens his hold, and the two of you begin to prepare for the rest of the day. After a quick shower together and a few shared glances in the mirror, you both finish getting ready.

The two of you step out into the crisp morning air, making your way to his car as frost glimmers like delicate lace on the windows under the pale light. He starts the engine, the heater sputtering to life and gradually filling the cabin with warmth as you settle into the passenger seat.

The drive to work is quiet and peaceful, with soft music playing on the radio. You steal a few glances at him, watching the way his hands grip the wheel and the faint concentration in his expression. It’s then you notice he’s wearing the same suit as yesterday—a subtle reminder that he hadn’t planned to stay the night.

The car rolls to a stop in front of the towering company building, its sleek glass exterior reflecting the soft light of the winter morning. He parks in his usual reserved spot and turns to you with a warm smile. “Alright, don’t miss me too much,” he teases.

You roll your eyes playfully, getting out of his car. “Trust me, I won’t.”

Inside, the hum of the office quickly pulls you into the rhythm of the workday. Emails flood your inbox, and tasks pile up as you try to focus, but it’s no use. Your thoughts keep drifting back to him—his voice, his annoying smirk, the way his hair was still slightly messed up this morning, and his cock.

Stop.

You find yourself staring blankly at your computer screen, rereading the same line of text over and over.

“Mr. Ryomen! How can I…”

Your ears perk up at his name, and before you can stop yourself, your head turns toward the source of the voice. From your desk, you catch a glimpse of him on the other side of the room. He’s speaking with one of the department heads, his expression serious yet calm as he listens. Occasionally, he nods or gestures slightly with his hand. But it’s the subtle quirks you notice—the way his lips twitch as if suppressing a smirk, or how he adjusts his cufflinks absentmindedly.

For a brief moment, he glances in your direction. You immediately snap your eyes back to your screen, your cheeks burning, praying he didn’t catch you staring.

But then, you hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching. You keep your eyes glued to your monitor, trying to make yourself look busy, but it’s no use. You can feel him before you even see him.

“Daydreaming already?” his voice rumbles softly, a teasing edge to his tone.

Your head snaps up to see him standing beside your desk, hands casually tucked into his pockets, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“N-No, of course not,” you stammer, straightening in your chair. “Just...focused.”

“Focused?” he echoes, raising a brow as his eyes flick to your screen. “On an empty email draft?”

You glance at the monitor and cringe inwardly. “I was...thinking about how to word it,” you say quickly, trying to salvage your pride.

He chuckles, leaning in slightly so only you can hear. “If you’re this distracted, maybe I should’ve kept you in the car a little longer.”

Your face grows impossibly hotter, and you glare up at him. “Aren’t you busy?” You shoo him away with your hand.

“Plenty,” he says smoothly, his grin widening. “But I couldn’t resist checking on my favorite employee.” Before you can respond, he straightens and takes a step back. “Carry on, then.” With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you flustered and unable to focus for the rest of the day.

Usually, you would take the overtime—but not today. Today, the idea of staying longer just feels unbearable. You left the minute the clock struck 5. You practically race to the elevator, your pulse quickening with every step. The doors close behind you with a soft chime, and as the elevator descends, you feel a small sense of relief wash over you.

By the way, on your walk home, you stopped by an adult store. From there, you quickly bought a dildo (you tried to find one a similar length and girth as you know who) and scurried your way back home.

Saturday, December 28th

You came into work on a Saturday, mainly because there’s a pile of leftover paperwork that you didn’t manage to finish before you left yesterday. And you blamed Sukuna for it.

The quiet hum of the building is quite a stark contrast to the bustling energy it usually has during the weekdays. You manage to finish fairly quickly with no distractions, particularly with the absence of a certain pink haired tattooed man. By the time you’re done, you stretch your arms above your head, the tension in your shoulders easing as you stand and walk around to shake off the stiffness from sitting too long. You glance at the clock—it’s still early enough for lunch.

As you head to pack up your things, you’re startled by the sound of footsteps approaching. You look up to see Sukuna, eyes scanning the room with mild curiosity.

His eyes land on you, widening. “You’re here on a Saturday?” he asks, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Yeah, just wrapping up some stuff,” you answer, grabbing your bag and shrugging. “Had a little bit left from yesterday.”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, walking over to you. “Well, since you're done with your ‘extra work,’” he says, “how about joining me for lunch in my office? I could use the company.”

You hesitate for a second. You're not exactly opposed to the idea, but considering the guy who’s asking you out to lunch is the very person driving your head mad, it's not exactly the easiest invitation to accept.

But then again, it’s just lunch, right?

You offer a half-smile, trying to mask the lingering uncertainty. “Alright, I’ll join you,” you say, trying to sound more casual than you feel.

Sukuna smiles back at you, the corners of his lips twitching upward in that signature smirk. He walks towards the elevator with you following suite.The two of you step into the elevator, the soft chime signaling its ascent. For a moment, the only sound is the soft hum of the machinery.

Suddenly, the elevator jerks, causing you to stumble slightly. Sukuna grabs you by the shoulders, steadying you as the lights start to flicker. You glance over at Sukuna, who doesn't seem too alarmed, but the furrow of his brow tells you he’s noticed it too.

"Did it just stop?" you ask, voice laced with surprise.

"Seems like it." His voice is calm, though you can detect a hint of frustration in his usually smooth tone.

You both glance at the display, watching as the floor numbers refuse to change.

Fuck you, elevator.

Sukuna pulls out his phone, his fingers swiftly tapping away on the screen. “I’ll text maintenance,” his tone is clipped. You watch as his fingers fly over the keys, typing a quick message. He pauses for a moment, then taps send.

Luckily for him, maintenance responded to him immediately. Sukuna scans the text message for a few seconds before raising his head to look at you. “Apparently, the whole building is out of power. It'll take about half an hour before the power starts running again.”

You blink, trying to process the information. "The whole building?" you echo, glancing at the elevator walls as if expecting the entire structure to come crashing down.

He gives a nod, his gaze narrowing as if he’s already over the inconvenience. “Yep. Looks like we're stuck here for a while.” He pauses, checking the time on his phone before sliding it back into his pocket. Sukuna’s lips twitch into a half-smirk as he takes a step closer, the space between you now noticeably smaller. “Well, guess it’s just you and me, then.”

“Well, you're not exactly the worst company to be stuck with, though,” you admit. You find yourself thinking about that one time you were stuck with Alan from finance and Jeffrey from HR. Alan, bless his soul, stayed silent in a corner the whole fifteen minutes, trembling out of fear. On the other hand, Jeffrey was consistently trying to flirt with you the entire time, probably breaking a few HR protocols here and there. The irony.

You scoff thinking about it.

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, his gaze flicking over to you. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You got a problem with being stuck in small spaces or something?”

You blink, caught off guard by the question. “Huh? Oh, no, nothing like that," you quickly reply, trying to brush it off. “Just... thinking about some interesting elevator experiences I’ve had.”

He smirks, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary, clearly not buying your quick explanation. “Hmm, sure. Sounds like you’ve got some interesting stories,” he muses.

Closing the space between the two of you, he traps you against the walls of the elevator, leaving you no room to move. “Speaking of interesting stories, I heard from a few little birdies you left early yesterday.”

You stiffen, taken off guard by the sudden proximity. His smirk deepens as he leans in just a bit closer, his breath warm against your cheek. You can feel the pulse of his presence more than ever now, the space between you thick with tension.

“Did I?” you manage to say, trying to keep your voice steady. “Maybe I just had things to do.”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, his gaze intense as he watches you carefully. “Is that so?” His tone is teasing but holds a hint of something more dangerous. He doesn’t move back, instead, his hand gently rests against the railings behind you, trapping you in place. “I find it funny how Ms. Overtimer decided to leave at 5 o’clock sharp. She couldn't have been trying to avoid someone, was she?”

What was this? An interrogation?

You swallow, unable to escape the directness of his gaze. “N-no. Like I said, I had stuff to do.”

His smirk deepened. “And what would that be?”

You flushed, thinking back on your nightly activities yesterday. The voices from the “How To Give A Good Blow Job” video you were watching yesterday echoed through your head.

What’s important with a blow job is to use lots of saliva to make it really wet.

When you approach a penis, it’s very important to…

Go all the way, but don’t just lick the tip.

You don’t just lick it like a lollipop or like an ice cream cone, you really put it all in your mouth.

The next thing you thought of was the porn videos you watched right after that, as you tried to imitate the actions of the porn star on the dildo you just bought.

As you snap back to reality, you’re faced with Sukuna’s arrogant looking face staring right back at you. “I’ll tell you what I did,” he rasps into your ear. “The moment I got back home, I fucked my fists, pretending it was you.”

His hands reach underneath your shirt from the back, gliding over the hooks of your bra. “I thought of your drenched little pussy, bouncing on my cock, clenching around me, cumming again and again, just begging for more.”

Your pussy throbs from his words. Before you know it, you wrap your arms around him, kissing him like your life depended on it.

At some point you parted for air, gazing up at him through hooded eyes. Playing with his trousers, you bend towards his ear, whispering, “Do you know what I did? I bought myself a dildo, the size of your cock.” His hold around you tightens. Teasingly, you bite his ear, causing him to groan. “Do you know how hard I worked yesterday? Trying to suck that piece of plastic because I wanted to surprise you with a good time.”

You can’t even get another word out when Sukuna’s mouth is back on yours, trying to devour you until there’s nothing left of you but a damn puddle. Just when he’s about to strip you of your shirt, the elevator door gracefully opens as if it wasn’t stuck just moments ago.

It didn’t even take a second before Sukuna pulled you into his arms, bringing you straight into his office.

Safe to say, the two of you enjoyed each other for lunch.

Sunday, December 29

You’re sitting on your couch, eyes glazed over as you skim through another round of work emails, when one subject line catches your attention: "New York Business Trip". Curious, you open it, expecting some mundane update or meeting schedule.

Surprisingly, your company is sending you and a few others to New York for a new client. The email outlines everything: flight details, accommodations, and a packed itinerary filled with meetings. You blink a few times, rereading the email to make sure you’re not imagining things.

Ah.

Well, you should probably get to packing.

Monday, December 30

The flight to New York was mundane at best. Luckily no crying babies were on the flight.

By the time you got there, it was already nighttime. Tired and exhausted, you and your colleagues made your way to the hotel.

You quickly fell asleep, your mind rather occupied with work.

Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna had also flown into New York a day prior for his own business engagements.

Tuesday, December 31

The client offers you a sincere handshake as they prepare to leave. After stepping out, a collective sigh of relief fills the room.

As the door clicks shut, one of your coworkers slouches dramatically in their chair, their voice heavy with complaint. "Ugh, I’m so tired. Do we really have to work so close to the new year?"

Another coworker, ever the optimist, chuckles and leans back in their chair. "At least we're in New York for the new year. I mean, that's gotta be pretty exciting, right?"

A third coworker, always the one with the best ideas, perks up with enthusiasm. "Why don’t we just celebrate tonight? Let’s hit a nice restaurant and make the most of being in New York. Who’s in?"

The idea quickly gains traction, and with a few enthusiastic nods, plans are made. The team agrees to head out together to celebrate.

You all decided on a restaurant by the pier, away from midtown which tended to be one of the busiest parts of the city during the new year. Drinks are poured, toasts are made, and the atmosphere quickly shifts from business to pure enjoyment. The laughter grows louder as more wine flows, the chatter about work now replaced with stories of company drama.

“Jeffrey from HR got fired!”

“No way! What happened?”

“I heard he got caught trying to buy drinks with the company card!”

“I heard he got caught harassing some of the female staff!”

“I heard…”

“Classic Jeffrey,” a coworker mutters, shaking their head. “The guy was a walking HR violation. Good riddance.”

You laugh. “Funny, considering he’s HR himself.”

Another coworker, slightly tipsy, raises their glass. “To Jeffrey’s unemployment!” Everyone laughs, raising their glasses in solidarity.

The conversation shifts as someone notices a familiar pink-haired man, sitting at a table behind you with a relaxed, almost amused expression.

"Wait, isn't that…?" One of the coworkers squints, their eyes widening. "Mr. Ryomen?!"

The room falls quiet for a split second, and all eyes turn toward him. There's a brief, stunned silence as the reality sets in. Sukuna raises a brow, sensing the sudden shift in attention. "No need to act so formal, people," he says, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "This is a celebration, not a board meeting. Dinner’s on me." At his words, the initial awkwardness disperses, a collective cheer erupting around the table.

Sukuna's gaze drifts toward you, and for a moment, the chatter around the table fades into the background. You look up at him, your eyes meeting his. The night continues, the laughter growing louder as more wine flows and the atmosphere grows more relaxed. Your coworkers are clearly enjoying themselves, their inhibitions loosening as they drink and joke.

Somewhere between the third round of drinks and the jokes about Jeffrey, Sukuna leans closer to you, his voice low as he addresses you. "You wanna head out?"

You glance around, noticing that the group is becoming more boisterous, a little too drunk for comfort. You nod, slipping out of your seat quietly, unnoticed in the haze of celebration.

The two of you walk side by side, his hand slipping into yours as he gently tucks it into the warm pocket of his winter jacket. Ending up by the pier where you can enjoy New York City’s cityscape alone, the two of you stood by the railing, the city lights shimmering in the distance, reflecting off the water below. The noise of the city feels distant here, leaving just the sound of the waves lapping against the shore and the occasional hum of passing traffic.

Sukuna stands close, his presence comforting and intense, but there’s an unspoken ease between you now. He watches you looking at the skyline, almost entranced by the city lights. He's entranced by the way your gaze softens, the flicker of wonder in your eyes, as if the city itself holds a kind of magic just for you.

His gaze drifts down to your face, the way the soft glow of the lights highlights your features, and for a moment, he forgets the world around him.

“You like it here?” he asks, his voice low, almost lost in the wind.

You nod, taking in the sight of the towering buildings, the lights that make the city pulse with life. “It’s beautiful,” you say, your voice quiet, but content.

Sukuna smiles, a rare, almost gentle curve of his lips.“You know,” he begins, his voice a bit more serious now.

You turn to face him. “I like you,” he admits, his voice steady but low, the sincerity in his eyes undeniable. “More than I should.”

Your face shifts to one of surprise before a smile spreads across your lips. “And?” you ask, a teasing edge to your voice as you try to coax more out of him.

Sukuna’s expression falters for a moment, a look of surprise crossing his features, as he didn’t expect for you to react so playfully, before his usual confidence returns. He steps closer, his presence overwhelming yet somehow comforting, his gaze never leaving yours.

“And…” he murmurs, taking a breath as if steadying himself for something more. He tilts his head slightly, a small, almost playful glint in his eyes now. “This confession has been long overdue.”

You cock your head to the side. “And?”

Sukuna rolls his eyes. Cradling your face with both his hands, he pulls you gently toward him, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes soften, the playful glint still present, but there’s a sincerity now that you can’t ignore.

“Goddammit, woman,” he mutters, although there’s no trace of frustration or anger behind it. “And,” he starts again, voice quieter this time, “I want you.”

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

“I need you.”

Another tender kiss, this time to your nose, as if savoring the simple closeness of you.

“I love you.”

‘I've loved you ever since your stubborn ass appeared in that elevator,’ he thought.

Without another word, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s slow, deliberate, and full of all the things he hadn’t been able to say. The world around you seems to fade as the moment stretches on, leaving only the two of you, suspended in the quiet of the city night.

Sukuna closes his bedroom door behind you with a soft click, turning towards you once he locks the door. Crossing the short distance between the door and you with a few, casual strides, he helps you out of your coat, carelessly leaving it on the floor once off. Not even moments later, the rest of your clothes soon followed the fate of the discarded coat.

Your body was bare before Sukuna’s affectionate gaze; vulnerable and utterly exposed to his wandering eyes. “You’re soaked, darling,” his silken cadence carrying a hint of teasing. It’s no surprise though, considering he fingered you in his car on the way to his New York City penthouse.

“Put it in already,” you whine, tired of waiting. In fact, you’ve waited for exactly a week ever since the man took your first kiss and first orgasm.

He bites your thighs in response. “Don’t you know patience is a virtue?”

“Funny, I don’t remember signing up to be virtuous,” you muttered.

He laughs in return. “Well, it’s not too late to start, but you might want to hurry.” You rolled your eyes. This man is insufferable. You start self-pitying yourself for falling for this man’s charms.

Sukuna begins to pepper kisses down your thighs, before reaching the wet mess between your legs. He gives your cute cunny a wet, sloppy french kiss, causing you to squirm. Sukuna’s hands, however, found themselves wrapped around your thighs, preventing you from squirming away.

Just when you’re about to reach your high, he parts from you, a frustrated whine permeates the air. He playfully tsks at you, shaking his head with a smirk. “What did I say about patience?”

“I don’t want to hear that from you!” you exclaimed. “You’re impatient and far from virtuous, you pervert.”

“Me? Impatient? I held out for 4 years. Just when I could take you for myself, I cockblocked myself for a week.” He taps the head of his cock on your slit. “If anything, I’m the epitome of virtue.”

“That’s bull– AH!” Your head smothered in the crook of his neck, legs trembling, your upper body falling limp to the dull aching pain in between your legs.

On Sukuna’s end, he hisses from the way your virgin walls tighten around his length, his eyes half-lidded. “Shitt…” he curses breathily, the tightness of your pussy is almost too much for him. With the addictive way your walls wrap around his cock, he can’t help but yearn for more. He snaps out of his mind-fucked haze when he hears your quiet sniffles.

Sukuna gently distracts you by petting your head, his fingers threading through your hair as he shushes you softly, the warmth of his hand grounding you. He licks away the tears threatening to fall from the corners of your eye.

“You're an animal,” you croaked out. His fingers continue their gentle path through your hair, the action tender but possessive.

“Shouldn’t that be obvious by now?” he murmured, silencing your whimpers with a deep kiss. One of his fists, curled so tightly, draws blood, as he holds back a debauched smile from appearing on his face. His breathing is labored, each exhale coming out in sharp bursts, but his eyes—those predatory, crimson eyes—remain locked on you with an intensity that borders on dangerous. The control he’s desperately clinging to is beginning to fray. That debauched smile of his still doesn’t quite break free, but if you were to open your eyes, you can see it lurking, threatening to spill over at any moment.

Right. This is why he was so hesitant about claiming you as his. Because once he did, his possessiveness would consume him entirely, and no amount of restraint could keep him from acting on the wild urge to mark you, to own every inch of you. It’s why he had kept his distance, why he had let the silence stretch between you for so long. But now, with you so close, with your scent filling his senses, it was clear he had waited too long.

The struggle within him intensifies, the weight of his desires battling with the need to maintain decent dignity, but seeing the frown on your lips tugged on his fucked-up sense of morals. So, he patiently waits until your legs are no longer trembling. Kissing the palm of your hands, he asks, “Can I start moving now?”

You respond with a breathless yes. As you wished, he started moving with carefully curated, slow thrusts. Your mind fills with confusion, unable to figure out the difference in the waves of twisted pain and pleasure you feel with each drag of his hips.

Sukuna bends down to your tits, taking your pebbled nipple in his mouth, while teasing the other one with his hands. “So fucking tight,” he rasps, parting from your sensitive bud, leaving only but a string of saliva.

God, this pussy will be the end of him. You will be the end of him.

‘Aren’t you the most prettiest thing,’ he thinks to himself.

On the other hand, you feel too overwhelmed to even think. You pant through each tactful thrust of his, your hands clutching onto his bed sheets to ground yourself. Feeling the specific drag against your g-spot, you let yourself go without warning.

Feeling your pussy clench wildly around his appendage, Sukuna curses, attempting to pull out but ultimately failing when your cunt just sucks him right back in. A choked up laugh bubbles from his throat, as he submits himself to pleasure, releasing his sperm right into your cavern. When he pulls out, he savors the scene of your stretched hole pulsing wildly yet clenching around nothing.

Sukuna gives you a quick kiss on your lips, symbolizing a job well done, before walking towards his mini fridge to get beverages for the both of you. Disregarding your aching lower half, you sat up from your position, watching your lover—butt naked—tinkering with the items in the fridge.

You stare into space when you think about how… soft he was with you. You almost wonder if somehow a ghost took over his body the few times he was intimate with you. You knew that man had a penchant for torturing his bed partners with pleasure. It was almost common knowledge with anyone who has interacted with anyone from Silvia’s high society circle. Or any one of the Sukuna’s past flings. You, neither in Silvia’s circle nor friends with any of Sukuna’s past flings, only relied on the words from a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a… you get it.

Anyways, his gentle demeanor with you almost deceptively deceives you of his true nature in bed. As delighted as you were by his ability to approach you with such surprising gentleness, you wanted to know the full extent of Sukuna’s… bedtime habits, so to speak.

There’s a saying: Curiosity killed the cat.

So don’t say this narrator didn’t warn you beforehand.

You snap back from your thoughts when you realize Sukuna was heading back towards you with two bottles of water. He opens the cap for you before handing you one of the bottles, placing the edge of the bottom on your forehead, a gesture that takes you by surprise. The coolness of the bottle against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, sharply contrasting the lingering memory of his body heat pressed so close to yours.

You take the bottle, mumbling a quiet thank you, before taking a few sips. He hums in response, proceeding to take a drink from his bottle himself. You watched his Adam's apple bob with each swallow, the movement oddly captivating.

“Don’t you think you’ve been holding back?” you stated as a matter of fact.

He stops drinking, looking at you over the rim of his bottle, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing your words. The silence hangs between you, thick with anticipation. Slowly, he lowers the bottle, twisting the cap back on. His gaze never leaves yours, sharp and calculating, like he’s trying to read the real meaning behind your statement.

“You’re way too eager to push me,” he murmurs, his lips licking off the excess moisture from the liquid. “You should be more worried about your wellbeing than the rumors floating around about my sexual preferences.” He sits down on the edge of the bed, putting a strand of hair behind your ears.

You slap that hand away, pouting. “Well, if you’re not going to fuck me properly, I’ll just go find someone else to do it,” you state, preparing to stand from your spot and pretend to leave the room.

Sukuna clenches the empty plastic bottle in his hand, the sound of crushed plastic permeating in the room.

“Sit down.” He pats his lap, motioning for you to take a seat.

The command is simple, but it cuts through the air with a force that makes your body freeze, your movements halting mid-step. There's no mistaking the tone in his voice—low, dangerous, and absolute. The room feels smaller now, the air in the room somehow thickens.

You hesitate, eyes flickering between his clenched fist and the way his gaze remains locked on you, as though daring you to challenge him. And despite yourself, you do end up sitting on his lap, his arms immediately cradling you against his body. He grazes his teeth on your shoulder, before actually biting, drawing blood.

Startled, you flinch. However, with Sukuna’s arms wrapped around you, you couldn’t move nor could you run away.

“You’re being such a brat,” he slurred, sounding drunk on your smell. He brings his other hand to caress your cheeks, “And here I thought you were my good little girl.”

Your heart quickens with excitement, the pulse in your chest pounding louder than ever. It’s a heady mix of anticipation and the raw thrill, the tension between you both so thick it’s almost suffocating.

"Am I not being good enough for you?" you asked with a hint of mock innocence, feigning ignorance. You intwine your hands with his, nuzzle your face into the palm of his hands.

“If you were, we wouldn’t be in this position,” he rasps, his self-control hanging by a thread just waiting to snap at the right moment. Your breath hitched slightly when he runs his large, calloused hands around your sides before stopping by your ass cheeks to fondle it. His voice was low and husky as he spoke, filled with a barely restrained lust. "You're being a dangerous tease right now, love.”

“Dangerous?” you mused, leaning forward to whisper into his ear. “Why am I so dangerous?” You began to slowly grind your hips against his, gently rocking in his lap.

Sukuna's hands clenched tightly on to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he felt your body move against him, creating a torturously good friction. “Precisely because of this,” a hint of a growl escaping from his lips.

You purposefully let out a loud unabashed moan as you continue to rub yourself against his tattooed thighs, hoping to crumble whatever’s left of his self-control. Pushing out his cum from earlier, you smear it all over his thighs. “Oops,” you gasped, faking your astonishment. “Sorry for making such a mess, Kuna. You know I couldn't help myself,” you taunted, unknowingly signing a sealed deal for the absolute annihilation of your body for the next morning come.

Snap

The very next second, you’re thrown onto the bed. You look behind you where his large and strong frame hovers over yours. You don’t even get a chance to savor the look on his face when he grabs you by the hair, pushing your head face down into the mattress.

“That’s it. Shut it, you cock hungry slut.”

Oh! So there’s that sadistic pervert of a man you know and love.

Inserting his fingers into you, he starts targeting your g-spot, probing at that one spot on purpose!

“That’s enough!” you protested, your legs shaking from quite possibly overstimulation.

He doesn’t stop, pretending as if he didn’t hear. After a while of constant whining on your end and absolutely zero reactions on his, you attempt to crawl away from him, the sensation far too overstimulating for you. Your plan comes to a foul stop however, when he drags you back with a sharp pull by your legs.

Your head snapped back to look at him, his eyes burning holes into your skull, looking absolutely furious with you. “I thought you wanted to fuck around and find out?” A hand comes down onto your ass cheek. “I’m giving you exactly what you asked for, so why are you running away?”

Exactly, why are you running away? You give yourself a mental prayer, before deciding to absolutely stop using your head and to start thinking with your cunt instead.

Sukuna presses his body up against yours, his weight almost knocking the air out of your lungs. Practically accepting the position you're in, you wholly welcome his cock sliding into your needy pussy.

“You’re probably the best cock sleeve I’ve come across so far,” he groans. “Probably because of that slobbering pussy of yours.” He forces two fingers into your mouth, a mad grin spreading across his face when he feels your tongue swirl around his digits. “Right,” he thrusts even harder, causing you to gag on his fingers, “and I can't forget about that slutty mouth of yours.”

Fuck. Was it just you or did his cock just get bigger while inside?

You can’t even focus for long when he’s prone boning you into the mattress like the pleasure-drunk sadist he is.

Each time he looks down at you with those glazed eyes.

Each time he pushes into you.

Your mind goes blank from pleasure.

The vulgar sounds of flesh on flesh echoes in your ear, filling up your head til you can’t think of anything else.

Panic arises in you, snapping you out of your euphoric haze when you suddenly feel the need to pee out of nowhere. With a sudden surge of clarity, as if flipping a switch, you quickly inform Sukuna of your urgent matter. Or at least you try to— through the moans, pants, screams, and incoherent ramblings.

Weirdly enough, even through all that, he surprisingly understands your intended message quite well. Although his response is not one you expect.

“Go ahead,” he sneers. “Squirt, cum, piss as many times as you want. The sheets are dirty enough already.”

“...Ngnhh. It feels… strange… good. O-h fuck!” You squirt—or was it piss, anywho it didn’t matter what it was—for the nth time that night. You're unsure how many times you came so far. But then again, who’s keeping count?

“Say you love me,” he mutters under his ragged breaths.

You don’t seem to process his words though. Thoroughly fucked over, the only sounds you make are absolutely obscene. “Ngh oh~ hahhh!”

“Louder,” he demands, his cock pummeling into your aching cunt. “Say you love me. Come on. Say it feels good.”

“Haa! Hngh! Oh!” Only unabashed moans escapes your lips, your mind too fucked to comprehend his words.

“Did I already fuck you dumb?” he mocked, clearly unimpressed with your lack of decorum. That’s a lie. He’s reveling in pure joy

Suddenly, he changes his pace, going obnoxiously slow.

You writhed in response, whines escaping your mouth. “Nooo,” you protest, missing the fast pace already.

“No?” Sukuna slowly pulls out until his tip is only part enveloped by your warmth. “Weren’t you begging me to slow down earlier though?”

You don't even remember if you said that. In fact, you can't recall any of the jumbled words that came out of your mouth. And for all you knew, he could've just made it up.

Fucked as you were, you could only respond with a mumble of incoherent whines.

In response, he spanks you, your pussy clenching in response, making him grin. “Aww, does my pretty little slut like that?” He spanks you one more time, pleased when your walls clenched around him once again.

Now that he’s got your attention, he repeats his orders to you once more. Through thick tears of pleasure dripping down your face, you whisper, “I love you, Kuna.”

Fuck.

Now, you were really going to be the death of him.

Not giving you a second to breathe, he pulls you towards the edge of the bed. Then, almost effortlessly, he holds you in the full nelson position. You’re surprised when he walks you towards the glass windows of his bedroom. From there, you could see the whole entire city of New York, its lights shimmering like a sea of stars beneath you. The skyline stretches far and wide, towering buildings casting long shadows across the streets, their lights flickering in rhythm with the pulse of the city. But more than that, you see the fucked-up position you're in, reflected in the glass windows.

“Since you enjoy the view so much…” Sukuna slowly positions his cock to your needy cunt. You squeal the moment he penetrates, his heavy and thick cock mercilessly berating your slutty walls. “Enjoy it while you can!”

He brings you down on his cock, harder with every pound. Expectedly, your vulgar juices trickle down his 8 inch cock with every drag of your hips, creating a white ring around the base of his cock.

“Kuna– I- ngh! Tooo-oooo d-deep! It’s too much!”

Your words cause Sukuna to chuckle. Too much? Too much? Your pussy sure didn’t think so, welcoming each thrust with open arms, even greedy for more. It sucked in his cock so well, getting tighter every time he tried to pull out.

You interrupt his trance when you start chanting his name over and over again, the only warning he has until you squirt all over his cock, his floor, and his penthouse windows. He follows suit, pulling out his cock, and allowing his cum to join the mess you have already made.

Feeling light-headed, he thirsts for air, deciding that your lips was the only remedy he wanted—needed, at this moment.

In the midst of your kiss, fireworks sprung into the night sky, painting the sky with their brilliant lights. The colorful splatter of light shines through the windows of Sukuna’s New York penthouse.

Wednesday, January 1

Your attention was briefly drawn to them as they sparkled and crackled above, their explosions echoing through the silence of the night.

Sukuna, his breath still coming in warm pants, looked up at the fireworks only momentarily before returning his crimson eyes back towards you, intense and unwavering.

He places you down, his hand gently cupping your jaw, turning your head to the side. As the fireworks painted the sky with fleeting brilliance, Sukuna's lips found yours again, grounding you in a moment that felt timeless—far more profound than the fleeting lights above.

Author’s note: My apologies for any grammar mistakes in advance 🙇‍♀️ The fic ended up being longer than I expected, so I had to cut/summarize several scenes to ensure everything would fit on Tumblr. Here are some of the plot points that I skimmed over (that were originally supposed to be stretched out into proper scenes): A shower scene y/n learning how to give a blow job using a sex toy Phone sex between the two the day y/n got the business trip email And of course, the office sex scene

There’s a few more but that’s a secret for now haha. Anyways if any of you all are interested, please let me know

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen smut #sukuna fic #sukuna ryomen #anime smut #jjk fanfic

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bunny-jpeg · 4 months ago

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kink-o-ween - day four

daniel riccicardo - cockwarming

cw: smut/pwp, cockwarming, size difference/kink, secret sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, daniel is horny (and needy), restaurant sex

kink-o-ween: formula one edition - call of duty edition

you knew daniel could seduce a habit off a nun. he was an inferno that buried deep into someone and made them hot all over. you were no exception. your beloved danny had a mean streak in his, at least sexually. as much as you tried to push back on the insatiable lust he carried in him, sometimes the allure of the driver was too much.

you were confident that this dinner together would go swimmingly. one date before you spent the entire summer in your apartment feeding into daniel's sexual desires. after weeks apart, he hungered for you. therefore, you were proud that you managed to hold him off to have one nice dinner together.

so why were your panties in your boyfriend's pocket?

the place was quiet on a tuesday evening, the moon hung large in the sky and the food was delicious. but the food tasted dull on daniel's tongue, he yearned for something more. the weight of your cotton panties in his pocket was heavier than the wallet next to it. when he went to wash his hands before dinner, he took them out and gave them a good sniff.

call him perverted, but being exhausted from the intensity of racing left him little time to sate his other urges. he was running on empty by the time the season break occurred. so call him a little antsy for some affection from his beautiful girlfriend of almost three years.

you were mostly alone, you had the privacy to let daniel's eyes wander across your form. the softness of your face, how your curves looked into the dress you wore. he wondered if he could take you apart over the table and no one would notice. or care enough to say anything. he had that kind of buying power.

but he knew you'd die of embarrassment. it was bad enough he had to forgo your panties for the evening. but something crossed his mind that would make both of you happy.

"babe." he said as he propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin across his interlocked fingers, "come here. i missed you too much, you feel so far away."

you looked up from your meal and raised your eyebrows, 'danny."

he pouted a little, showing those big brown eyes that seemed to touch the depths of your soul. you sighed before you got up, you went to his side of the table and held his face for a moment before he got you down on his lap. you could feel his erection straining against his slacks.

"danny, if we need to. we can do it in the car."

"it'll take too long. your dress should cover any activities we do here. just warm it up a little. get familiar again." he kissed at your neck before he fed you a piece of his meal, "please."

you got off of daniel's lap for a moment and thanks to the privacy of where you were seated, he was able to get his cock out of his slacks and with a little work you got yourself onto it. you clutched onto the side of the table as you felt the stretch. maybe you two were a little less familiar than when he left.

the skirt of your dress has enough volume to cover both of your laps, hiding your activities of the evening. you rested against him, while his cock remained pressed against the softest parts of you.

"this feels insane." you said softly, but daniel silenced you with a kiss on the lips. his hand in your hair for a moment. he tasted like the expensive cut of meat he was having for dinner. it tasted good, but you knew he'd forgo food for a month if it meant keeping his dick in you.

"don't worry, babe." he said as he kissed your nose, "just don't be too loud." he remarked as he held your face for a moment, "we'll share my dinner tonight."

it was hard to ignore the growing of warmth in your middle. daniel ricciardo's cock was inside of you at an expensive restaurant. you were enjoying food, wine and the familiar girth of your lover's cock in your slick pussy.

so much could go horribly wrong, but the way his cock nudged against your sweet spot made you almost choke on your wine. you covered your mouth with your elbow as you swallowed the tart liquid. the coughs that went through you caused your pussy to clench which made daniel hold your hip tightly.

"careful, beautiful." he said as he kissed your shoulder, "don't want to get me too excited." then leaned over you to cut another piece of his food. he slowly fed it to you and kept his gaze on you.

most would assume this was some lavish display of public affection. not daniel's need to feel as close to you as he could get. you could feel the heat rise in your body as you rocked your hips a little. his cock was snug in your, but it felt right.

you ate and after you swallowed, he brought you in for a kiss. everything felt over-saturated as you mind tried to focus on everything at once. the lust, the food, the setting. it was a lot.

but you snapped back in reality when you heard someone's voice nearby. you looked over and saw the poor waiter by the table.

"how is everything?"

daniel leaned back in his seat a little, not enough to show what he was doing under your skirt. he smiled, "everything is lovely. thank you so much. actually, if you can, may we get some more wine?" his smiled was confident, like all seven inches of him weren't shoved inside your poor pussy.

the waiter nodded, "of course. i have to ask, is the chair you were seated in okay, ma'am?" he turned his attention to you.

you blinked for a moment, feeling the gaze of the waiter and your boyfriend on you. you swallowed, it was sink or swim. play it cool or have your face in the headlines. you took your lover's hand and held it close to your chest, daniel could feel your rapid heartbeat, "of course! i just really missed my boyfriend so i thought his lap was better option tonight." you gave your own smile, hiding that your core was shaking.

daniel looked at the waiter once more, "we promise everything is perfect." he laughed, "thank you though." then watched the waiter nod and walk off to get you some more wine. when he was far enough away, daniel held onto your hips and rutted up a little further in your sweet pussy. it almost made you choke on your drink once more.

daniel pressed his chest against your back, he curved over you like a shadow, "amazing acting, beautiful. if i didn't feel your heartbeat, i would've called it a convincing performance." he took the napkin and pressed it at the corner of your lips, "next time i'll order you some white wine. this is the second time you've choked, babe. don't want to ruin this pretty dress. it hides everything."

"shut up." you groaned a little bit, but composed yourself when the waiter came back with two glasses of wine. you thanked the man before he walked away and did your best to keep yourself composed.

daniel was feeling good, he knew he wasn't going to last long. and while he couldn't make you finish as well. but he'd make it when you got home, he'd happily lay you out for hours and devour your sweet pussy. he shifted his hips a little bit to get that rush through his body. he continued to feed you his meal, your meal grew cold. but daniel was more than happy to share.

"you're so beautiful." he said, "i can tell you're all flustered. poor thing." he chuckled low in your ear. he feed you some of the vegetables and kissed your chin where a bit of the sauce from the vegetables ended up. tasted better on your skin.

he moved against you a little more, small shifts of his hips allowed for him to get a little more friction against you. you felt like a dream, to daniel it was heaven. he buried his face into the back of your shoulder as the fork in his hand trembled. he came inside of your pretty cunt.

he shuddered and deeply exhaled. it took all the focus in him not to moan. he kissed an exposed part of your arm and muttered, "i love you. oh fuck, i love you."

you craned your neck to look back at him and were met with a kiss. heat was high in your face and you fanned yourself with daniel's napkin before you slowly got up on shaky legs.

when your dress exposed his wet cock to the evening air, he was quick to put it back in his slacks. he adjusted himself and leaned forward in his chair once more. his hands were still shaky as he picked up the wine glass and took a careful sip.

you knew that this was only act one of tonight's sexual adventures. you hoped that the rest of the even was less public. the last thing you needed was your face on the front page tomorrow. daniel reached out for you and held your hand across the table.

"i have to say." he said, "next time i wonder how well your pussy would pair with this wine." he chuckled and held the glass up with his other hand.

you could've thrown your napkin at him. daniel ricciardo, your loving boyfriend, could be an insatiable sexual hound sometimes. <3

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hiraethwrote · 9 days ago

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ADMIRING FROM AFAR

pairing : choso kamo x f!reader summary : suddenly the quiet, alternative looking guy catches your eye in class and you're unable to shake the idea of him. from afar, you start to create a fantasy of what he might be like — and eventually your imagination has made up a character you slowly find yourself falling for cw : university au, non-curse/modern au, fluff, pining, pierced and tattooed!choso, smoking, one mention of a party, yuki cameo, terrible ending bc i suck at writing endings, no use of y/n word count : 3.6k

Hallway crush!Choso who didn’t stick out to you until you were halfway through the semester, on a random Tuesday.

The only reason he caught your attention in the first place was because he actually raised his hand to answer the professor’s question, something he had never done before, or since.

His husky, yet surprisingly soft voice, broke the deafening silence that came after the question was asked. Nearly in a trance, your head shot up to get a look of the mysterious guy.

Never had you been more thankful for the mandatory core courses you were forced to sign up for — you would never have encountered him otherwise.

Sitting two rows in front of you and five seats to the left, you weren’t able to get a clear view of the guy. However, what you did see, did not disappoint. Tufts of black hair was tied up in two buns, and silver jewlery decorated his ear. He was wearing all black, shy lines of ink peaking up the neck of his shirt and past his sleeves.

From that moment, you were hooked on the idea of this stranger.

Hallway crush!Choso who you spotted nearly daily now that you were aware of his existence.

You had an assignment due in one week, so you decided to go to the library to actually get some work done for once.

Three hours into your study session, you had to exhale deeply as your motivation was running low. So you let your eyes roam the peaceful scenery of fellow students, some more dutiful than others — when you suddenly spot the mystery guy from class, sitting with three other people.

He looked so casual, leaned back in his chair, arms loosely crossed across his chest as a chuckle played on his lips as a response to something the person sitting next to him said.

Now that you had the opportunity to get a proper look at him, you noticed how extremely good looking he was — the type of breathtakingly handsome that hid in plain sight by how he never tried to stick out whatsoever.

For the next hour, you would subtly shoot glances in his direction. In all honesty, you felt somewhat embarrassed by how you found yourself a little infatuated by a guy you didn’t even know the name of.

All of a sudden he raised from his chair, having you straighten your posture. He pulled his leather jacket over his shoulders, his bag across his chest and put his headset on — with a smile and a nod, he begged his friends goodbye and left.

Hallway crush!Choso who, despite having his small group of friends, tended to stick mostly to himself.

Yeah, he sat with his little crew for a few hours, but he always left before the rest of them. Not to mention you often spotted him walking from one class to another in his lonesome.

On the days the library was absolutely packed, and it was impossible for you and your friends to find any available seats, you would sit down at one of the sofa groups in one of the university’s many long hallways. None of you complained either, as there wasn’t the same pressure to remain quiet.

It just so happened that the man who had captured your interest, walked right past your designated spot at least three times every week.

His headset was on like always, walking with easy determination. He simply seemed to mind his own business as he smoothly made his way through the hallway without bumping into anyone.

Your attraction to the dark and handsome stranger wasn’t as subtle as you first had thought, when it didn’t take your friends more than a day to notice your admiring gazes hanging onto him for the few seconds it took for him to walk by.

“Who’s that?” Your friend asked with a playful lilt to her voice, leaning forward and placing her chin in the palm of her hand.

“Hm? Just someone in my social science class,” you answered nonchalantly with a shrug just as he was out of sight.

“Just someone in your social science class,” she repeated mockingly. “And what’s his name?”

Hot embarrassment raised up your neck, “I don’t know,” your voice weak as their teasing chuckles filled the space.

“So you’re just ogling a stranger, essentially?”

“Shut up, he’s hot,” you fired back as you fell back in your chair, desperately trying to ignore their laughter.

Hallway crush!Choso who only continued to remain a mystery as the weeks went on.

It quickly evolved into somewhat of an inside joke — a game almost, all of you pitching in with silly little ideas of what he might be like.

“He looks like a cat person,” your friend whispered as he walked by.

“Oh, no doubt,” you agreed, eyes glued on his back. “Probably grew up with a family cat that always sleeps at the foot of his bed.”

“You think he greets the cat before his family?” She giggled.

You laughed along as you slowly shook your head no. “Don’t think so. He greets his mom first,” you turned your attention to your notebook, your pen drawing mindless doodles across the pages. “He’s a mama’s boy. But not in a weird way, you know? But in a green flag way.”

They would all laugh along to the daily chatter that filled the group before turning back to their own work, forgetting all about him until he would walk by again.

You, however, couldn’t shake him from your mind quite as easily.

The more they fuelled your fantasy with their fun and innocent ideas of who he might be, you fell deeper into the spiral of your crush.

When left alone with your own mind, your imagination went beyond the small quirks your group came up with — you started to imagine meet-cutes.

What if you “randomly” bumped into him at the little coffee shop just off campus?

What if you were paired up for a group assignment?

What if you ended up next to each other in the kitchen at some random frat party, and the conversation would just flow so naturally?

However, you kept those made up scenarios to yourself, because it was too shameful to admit to your friends that you were slowly falling for the person you had made him out to be — still without a name to put to the face.

Hallway crush!Choso who broke your heart just a little, though totally unaware of the fact.

“I didn’t know your man had a girlfriend.” You shot your friend a confused expression before following her gaze.

That was a first. You had never seen him walking down the hallway accompanied by someone. Let alone a tall, blonde and absolutely gorgeous girl, pure confidence running through every fibre of her body.

After that, you saw just the two of them more often than you liked. And you knew it was absolutely ridiculous to even be bothered by the pair, but you couldn’t control how the lump in your stomach formed at the sight of how well they seemed to fit together.

Her look wasn’t quite as edgy as his, but they definitely had the same vibe. Not to mention they seemed to be close, evident by how she always leaned in and grabbed onto his upper arm when he made her laugh, or how just the two of them would leave their study session in the library to share a cigarette.

You hoped seeing them together would eventually kill the proximity crush your brain had stupidly nourished — it turned out to be the opposite.

Watching him interact with her only granted your imagination new material to build on. Whenever she spoke, he had all his attention directed at her — genuinely listening to every word she said. You watched how he was gentle with her, careful not to be too harsh in his movements whenever he made contact with her.

He just seemed like such a good guy, who made your heart beat a little faster every time you saw him.

Hallway crush!Choso who one day actually did crash into you in the line in the cafeteria.

At first you thought you were dreaming, because the scene played out exactly how you had imagined it so many times in your head.

It was lunchtime, meaning the cafeteria was obviously packed. You were blissfully unaware of his presence behind you, having stayed up a little too late the night before to try to get some understanding of the material you had been assigned.

It wasn’t until a random bystander bullied their way through the crowd in the opposite direction, causing him to stumble forward into you and he quickly uttered a polite apology, that you realised exactly who it was.

Strong hands had grabbed onto your arms to help steady you. When you turned to face him, you wished you were able to utter your own apology — however, the words never made their way past your tongue, too startled at the sudden close interaction.

“People really don’t look where they’re going, huh?” he said, a shy curve to his lips as he let go of you.

“That’s people for you,” you tried to joke once you found your words again.

Your heart was beating a million miles an hour as you watched his eyebrows narrow. “Hey, don’t we have social science together?”

He recognised you.

You cleared your throat and nodded weakly, trying to serve him a sweet smile but you could feel the waver in it.

“I’m Choso, by the way,” he smiled casually, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Once again you tried to smile, but your lips only managed to pull into a thin line as you introduced yourself.

You expected that to be the end of the conversation, that he would pull out his phone in an effort to smoothly round it off without it being too awkward for either of you — but to your surprise, you saw him contemplate his options before opening his mouth again.

“How’s the assignment going?”

“Well,” you started, hoping he didn’t notice the little crack in your voice. “The words are, at the very least, being put on paper, if that tells you anything.”

He chuckled.

You made him chuckle. It was low and coarse, but a chuckle nonetheless. “Sounds familiar.”

He continued to keep the chatter light as you moved along with the queue, completely oblivious of the effect he had on you.

It wasn’t much, but just based on the little interaction, he seemed even more lovely than you had imagined, which only did more damage to your already smitten heart. Because being effortlessly attentive when listening and engaging in the conversation though he didn’t need to, only brought a piece of reality into your fantasy.

Your palms were turning clammy as your heart was pounding against your chest so loud you were sure he heard it. He was, after all, standing closer than one normally would a stranger due to the thick crowd of hungry students surrounding you.

“Well,” he sighed once you’d both paid and stepped into the hallway. “I need to get going. But it was nice to finally meet you for real.”

Finally.

Nice to finally meet you.

“Yeah, you too,” your lips twitching in a smile, heat travelling to wash over your face. You had always thought him to be so incredibly handsome, but you had underestimated how charming his smile was up close.

“I’ll see you around.” The curve of his lips continued to linger as he backed away before he eventually turned his back towards you and removed his headphones from around his neck to put them on.

Hallway crush!Choso who slowly started to gain the title of acquaintance after the reenactment of one of your made up scenarios.

It started very casual — he would greet you with a quiet “good morning” as he walked past you in the auditorium before taking his usual seat two rows in front of you.

“Morning,” you smiled in return while he held your gaze for a little while.

Waking up the days you knew you had class with Choso became a little easier when you knew what friendly routine was waiting for you.

After three weeks of the innocent interaction, he decided to disrupt the comfortable pattern you had fallen into. This Tuesday morning, he didn’t continue walking down the stairs after wishing you a good morning.

No, he stopped dead in his tracks, pointing at the empty seat beside you. “Is this seat taken?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and shook your head. “No. No, all yours,” you stuttered as you moved your bag for him to sit down.

He uttered a weak “thanks,” and made himself comfortable, pulling out his leather bound notebook and pen.

Hallway crush!Choso who turned out to be a lot funnier than you had first imagined.

Too caught up in the potential romantic gestures that entertained the depths of your mind, you found yourself so giddy whenever he whispered a silly joke during class for your ears only.

Hallway crush!Choso who accompanied you for the few minutes it took for you to walk to your friends after class finished.

“I’m headed in that direction anyways, so I’ll just tag along.” You’d be a fool to decline his offer, cutely biting your bottom lip and clutching your laptop closer to your chest, feeling like a love struck teenager.

When coming around the corner, you avoided looking in the direction of your friends at all costs. You knew you wouldn’t be able to suppress the embarrassment that would flush your face if you witnessed their shocked expressions as a reaction to walking alongside the guy you had fawned over for months.

It wasn’t until he was out of sight that you spun around — sure enough, they all sported exactly the facial expression you had expected, staring wide eyed with their jaws slacked.

“Okay? Something you forgot to tell us, babe?” One of your friends gushed once you had taken your seat. You shrugged innocently, trying not to let all your excitement spill over at once.

“Hope you at least know the name of your stranger now,” the one sitting opposite you teased.

You nodded slowly, “Choso,” you answered simply, enjoying the interrogating looks they were giving you.

“And? Give us the details!” All three of them had pushed their school work aside — this was ten times more important after all.

So you began to explain of the happy accident that had taken place a few weeks ago, and it had eventually ended with the two of you always sitting next to each other during lectures — none of them failed to match your energy.

“Wait, but I thought he had a girlfriend?”

And as easy as that, your girly and romantic fantasy shattered into a million pieces. Guilt was written all over your friend’s face as one could literally see the realisation dawning on you.

Having lived in the pure bliss of your new friendship, you had completely forgotten about the goddess he was so often seen with.

You started to reflect over the fact that you couldn’t remember seeing her in a while, and felt sick that you might have been too wrapped up in Choso that you just hadn’t noticed her recently.

Thus your excitement was short-lived, not ever wanting to be that girl.

Hallway crush!Choso who noticed how your mood was drastically different than normal the next time he met you.

He had looked forward to seeing that sweet smile tug at your lips when he wished you good morning, but instead he was met with a cold “hi”. You didn’t even turn to look at him.

Had he done something to upset you? The last time he saw you, nothing seemed to be off. You were your chipper self, greeting him with a curve to your lips so wide, your eyes would crinkle.

Class started, and you had yet not said another word to him. He shot you a glance, seeing your fingers hurriedly travel across the keyboard of your laptop, and every once in a while letting your eyes flicker up to look at the professor.

Maybe it was just a bad day. Maybe you had an exam in a different course that was causing you unnecessary stress.

Or maybe, god forbid, you’d come to the conclusion that Choso wasn’t someone you wanted to waste your attention on after all.

Hallway crush!Choso who decided to walk you out of the auditorium, despite your cold front trying to push him away.

It was awkward — incredibly awkward, a feeling that really hadn’t been present in the newly blossomed friendship. Still with no words exchanged, you packed your stuff and pulled out your phone.

Once outside of the auditorium, Choso wanted to try and start a conversation to try and disclose whether he’d done something or not. He only managed to catch your eyes when calling your name before a bolting figure came crashing into his side.

“There you are! You’re an impossible man to catch these days,” the girl exclaimed.

Choso saw the discomfort that subtly traveled down your face, awkwardly shifting your weight from one foot to another.

“I’ll see you around, Choso,” you said shyly, about to turn around and walk away before the blonde captured your attention.

“Wait, is this the girl you’ve been talking about?” You quickly spun back around, eyebrows pinched together in confusion as the blonde girl had peaked your interest.

Switching your attention to Choso for a second, you noticed how dusty pink had coloured his pale cheeks, his eyes wider than you’d ever seen them.

“It might be,” he said before clearing his throat and rolling his shoulders, hoping you didn’t notice the stress that was residing in his body.

“Finally,” she groaned, her hand shooting forward to initiate a handshake. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while. I’m Yuki.”

You still weren’t able to completely put the pieces together yet, blinking at her as you accepted her hand and introduced yourself.

“Oh, I know,” she mused, flashing you a cheeky grin. “This one right here,” patting a flat hand against his chest, “doesn’t really stop talking about you.”

A shy smile spread across your lips as you quickly shifted your gaze to him. “You’ve been talking about me?” You spoke softly.

“Well-” he stuttered, the pink quickly deepening into red.

A teasing scoff shot past her teeth. “Isn’t he cute when he gets shy,” she said as Choso’s shoulders grew stiff under her embrace. “You have that effect on him.”

When the opportunity to properly observe the dynamic between the pair in front of you, as well as digest the things Yuki was actually telling you, the pieces finally fell into place — they were just friends.

You had worried and spiralled for no reason, having spent the days since you had last seen him to prepare you to distance yourself from him.

But one look at his embarrassed face and tense body as a result of being teased about you, had all the butterflies come swarming back within seconds.

Choso kept most of his attention on Yuki as she went on to ask him what she’d initially come to talk to him about, but he couldn’t stop himself from letting his eyes dart over to you every once in a while.

“My god, you’re my saviour,” Yuki gushed at her friend, tugging playfully at his arm, before turning back toward you. “He’s truly a catch,” she said with a wink as she slowly started to back away. It had you grow a little restless, knowing you would soon find yourself standing alone with him. “Be good to him. And it was great to finally meet you!”

And she was off.

Slowly Choso turned his entire body towards you, his face having done the impossible and gotten even more red.

“What an interesting interaction,” you breathed.

A nervous chuckle slipped out of him in an attempt to remove the immense pressure that was looming over him. “She’s really something.”

“What was that part about me making you shy?” Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I mean-“ he cleared his throat. “I guess you’re seeing it in action right now.”

“Hm,” you said simply, causing him to narrow his eyebrows in response — both in confusion and slight worry.

“Hm what?” Swallowing the lump in his throat.

“It’s cute.”

Then he couldn’t stop smiling.

Boyfriend!Choso who managed to live up to every bit of your love dazed fantasy.

At times, you were scared you had let your fantasy go to far — that in your desperate hope for something more, you had created a character that no living person would ever be able to live up to.

Yet here Choso was, in the flesh, embodying every scenario you had made up when you had been tossing and turning on sleepless nights, and then some.

Small or big, he never disappointed.

He held the door open for you, he remembered your coffee order, he showered you with compliments and admiration.

It didn’t take long for him to learn how you yearned for grand gestures — so Choso made it a mission to fulfill those dreams.

Not only did he succeed, but he excelled well beyond your expectations.

He made sure to take you on dates frequently, but also spontaneously so you wouldn’t see them coming. He managed to make every occasion feel planned and intentional.

Boyfriend!Choso who was absolutely baffled once you told him about how you had admired him so intensely before you ever talked to each other.

The confession caught him completely by surprise, because he couldn’t in his wildest dreams have imagined you even noticed him before the little episode in the cafeteria.

Boyfriend!Choso who despite succeeding in making you his girlfriend, got just as shy about you now as he did then.

tags : @sad-darksoul

an : i hope it's a universal experience to create proximity crush that drives you crazy... dividers by @/strangergraphics comments and reblogs is much appreciated

#— ଓ my creative corner #jjk #jjk oneshot #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso kamo #choso kamo oneshot #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #jjk choso #kamo choso #kamo x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso

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wildestdreamsblog · 7 months ago

Text

Might as well be drunk in love: 2 of 3

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Let the darkness begin.

GIF by sugajimin

Part 1

Tuesday Night, Day 1

Kim Namjoon opened the door, his dimples on display as he welcomed you in the mansion for the second time that night as though he was already expecting you. He looked warm and comfortable, donning out simple white shirt and grey sweatpants instead of his usual formal clothes. A damp towel hanged on his broad shoulders; his hair still wet from the shower he obviously took.

“Welcome home, little one,” he greeted lowly, pulling your reluctant form in. If he felt the way you dug your heels on the ground, he didn’t mention. He was just elated that you were here now. He couldn’t explain the excruciating pain that went through his body almost more than an hour after he dropped you off. He was only able to manage it when Hoseok messaged him, letting him know that you would be coming home with him, and only then did he feel the pain subsided.

For the second time, you stepped foot in the grandiose place of theirs. It was a strange juxtaposition, your cautious movements against Namjoon's determined pull. Funnily, you thought it was similar to the depiction of Lucifer dragging Persephone down to hell. Walking behind you was the intimidating man, Jung Hoseok. He was carrying your bags in his hand in a relaxed manner, opposite to how he was before. The amount of clothes he personally packed were staggeringly ridiculous. It was like he packed your whole belongings with the intention for you to never set foot in your own apartment again. In his other hand was your traitor of a cat that was purring as the man carried him in his arms. It was like your cat left you for a better life.

"You must have been exhausted," Namjoon's voice broke through the quiet, drawing your attention to his warm smile. His concern softened the edges of your weariness. “The day is too long for any of us. You should get your rest.”

You eyed Hoseok, unsure of how to act when he offered you a reassuring smile. “We readied your room, little one," Hoseok's voice was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to his prior demeanor. Namjoon bade you good night, his large hand cupping your cheek tenderly before letting you go. With a beckoning gesture, Hoseok motioned for you to follow him, and you fell into step beside him, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders.

He opened the room to the far end of the right wing. Similar to the aesthetic of the house, the room was equally grandiose. The bed, positioned prominently in the center of the room, commanded attention with its regal presence. It was fit for a princess, you thought, with its lavish canopy and layers of plush bedding inviting you to sink into its embrace. Every detail spoke of luxury and refinement, from the gilded accents to the soft, muted colors that suffused the room with an air of tranquility.

Any other time you would have gushed over the beauty of this room, but not this time. And not with the stress that that love potion brought you! On top of that, you were in a strange place with your CEOs who were practically strangers up at this moment! It was more than understandable that you were acting wary of these two men. They were only two of the seven, and you were already displaced by them! What more if the remaining five were to face you now?

You looked over your lashes at the man who was putting your bags down in front of what looked like a huge walk-in closet, his face void of any negative emotions but the people pleaser and the anxious child in you made you voiced out what you were thinking.

“Are you mad at me?”

Your cat, on the other hand, was now roaming freely and inspecting his new home with a purr, uncaring of the stress that you were feeling. You knew that traitor had such an expensive taste that your cat would literally sell you for a piece of chicken. You couldn’t help but notice the amount of cat toys that were kept in the corner of the room, prompting you to think that this wasn’t a spur of the moment kind of thing.

Hoseok blinked owlishly as though you asked an utterly absurd question, one that would never happen. His brows furrowed before he offered you a reassuring smile. “What brought this on?”

You sighed dramatically before plopping down on a surprisingly soft and comfortable mattress. You were even unknowingly pouting, making him want to squish your adorable cheeks in between his hands and cooed down at you. “Well, because I may or may not have ruined your lives because of that drink. But in my defense, which I think is a very good and plausible one and it may actually stand in court, it was never my intention to make you ‘fall in love’ with me and that drink was only gifted to me! Don’t you think I should be given a less harsh punishment?”

“Punishment?” Hoseok repeated to himself, his head tilted to the side as he pondered the notion. Was living with them meant to be some sort of a punishment when this was a big house and you had seven men to cater to your every whim? They would literally give you the world should you asked. “No, honey. Listen, I’m not mad at you. In fact, it’s the opposite.”

“I’m mad at you?” you asked with a hint of humor in your voice before flashing him a grin of your own. You were too adorable and funny, he gushed as he kneeled in front of you. Slowly as though gauging your reaction, he held your hands in between his, running his thumb in a soothing manner when you didn’t pull away. Hoseok couldn’t help but smile widely when he held you. It was such an exhilarating rush, he observed, one that he had never felt before.

In fact, it was an addicting feeling…one that he could not bear to lose.

“We’re not mad,” he began, his voice earnest as he looked up at you from his kneeled form on the carpeted floor. He never knelt for anyone, but for you, he would without any questions asked. “None of us are mad. This is merely a…unique conundrum. But we’ll figure it out. We always do. So don’t worry, okay?

We will take care of it.”

It was well after midnight when the five equally annoyed men strutted inside the mansion. Their faces were painted with discontent, their eyes carrying a certain weight of physical exhaustion and their movements that of strain from being physically away from you.

They were, in fact, practically gritting their teeth from the discomfort and pain.

Kim Seokjin was the first to stride into the room, the heavy oak double-doors slamming against their hinges so forcefully that even Namjoon grew concerned. He meant, for heaven’s sake, he had it custom-ordered from his favorite artist that specialized in wood carving! Anyway, it was a rare sight to see him display any negative emotion as he was always the brother that brought lightness to whatever tense situation he found them in. He was known for his penchant to be kidding around, cracking dad jokes left and right and his laughter was contagious. But those traits were nowhere to be found.

His voice was surprisingly deep as he directed his equally captivating eyes to their lead CEO with darkness even Jimin who was walking behind him found startling. “Don't forget, I'm the one who prepares your food, Kim Namjoon."

Namjoon blinked at that, his hold on his laptop loosening at his hyung’s words. “All is fair in love and war?” he supplemented sheepishly, his fingers lifting to flash him a peace sign to which his hyung merely rolled his eyes to before plopping down the huge sofa and closing his eyes, his long leg stretched out in front of him.

Next to display his displeasure was Park Jimin, the one that was the scariest when mad. “You should have just shipped us to Japan then I’d be able to at least buy my skincare products,” Jimin sassed as he rolled his eyes at the lead CEO. His nose was turned up high as he strutted in the room. Despite the long hours spent travelling, Namjoon could not see any evidence that any single blonde hair was out of place on Jimin’s. “I think I finally know what hatred feels like.”

Last to enter was Taehyung and Jungkook. In his own peculiar way, Taehyung was fake sobbing in Jungkook’s arms while the latter was pouting at Namjoon as he patted the back of the former. “I never thought I’d be betrayed by the person I look up the most!”

“Yah!” Seokjin suddenly opened his eyes in disbelief “You trust him the most when I spend all my money on your food from when you were 13 to now?!”

Jungkook merely nodded, his doe eyes seeing nothing wrong with what he said. Taehyung, on the other hand, suddenly stopped acting and stood up straight to face the occupants of the room. “How are we reduced to this: betraying each other?” his deep voice resounded over the room, holding a tone of certain seriousness. His dark eyes met theirs. “Aren’t we better than this? We are brothers. We are better than animals that kill each other in the wild to survive. We are civilized men who are in the top performers of the society, who are featured in every reputable magazine. We are men that are leaders of-”

“Weren’t you the first to betray us, hyung?” Jungkook suddenly asked, effectively cutting off his speech. His head was tilted to the side as he sat beside Seokjin who was actively pushing him away to no avail, grumbling about how he should sit beside the brother he trusted the most.

“That’s neither here nor there!” Taehyung’s volume increased from guilt, his eyes comically widening.

“How?! It’s literally here! And it’s still here!” Jimin shouted, further antagonizing his agemate to which Taehyung gladly took on. The screaming match went on, with Jin joining, whereas Jungkook chimed in every once in a while, clearly enjoying the ensuing chaos. Every now and then, though, he voiced out how much he missed you. Namjoon was massaging his forehead and quietly telling them to stop and to keep quiet because someone was sleeping. It was only Hoseok who was silently watching his brothers and doing a quiet headcount only to come up short.

“Guys? Aren’t we seven?” He broke his silence for the first time, effectively stopping the loud bickering of the brothers. “Where’s Yoongi?”

The loud bickering of his brothers faded as he slipped inside the mansion without them noticing. To be honest, he did not have the required energy to deal with them, much so when he could barely keep himself upright. He didn’t want to see that traitorous bastard, Kim Namjoon, for more than a second. They all had a piece to say but they were all morons, Yoongi thought. As he trudged up the last step of the stairs, he looked up and there was you.

Min Yoongi couldn’t believe his own eyes. He thought that it was his sanity breaking down from the physical pain he had been feeling since he parted from you, and decided to play cruel games with him in the form of you. But there was no way that you were actually here, right? There was no way you were standing in the hallway in your sleepwear…right?

On the other hand, you blinked and looked at Yoongi’s pale face. He looked like he was straining to hold himself upright, evidenced by his grip on the stair’s handrail. His hands were shaking and you were worried that any moment now, he would fall.

You were proven correct not even a second later.

You watched as his body swayed, his eyes closed and you were moving before you could even think of the repercussion. Without heeding to any of your friend’s warning about touching them, you stepped in just in time to steady his body. The momentum from his combined weight and the gravity made you stepped back as his head found its place on your shoulder. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his broad back to anchor him to you.

“Daepyonim Min,” you called for his attention, gauging his alertness while tapping your hand on his back with a sense of urgency. “Daepyonim Min, you need help. Let me call-”

“Little one,” you heard him breathed you in before speaking so slowly, a tone of disbelief in his voice. “You’re real, aren’t you?” His hand slowly cupped your cheek, needing to feel you, needing to know if the object of his love was truly here. “How?”

“I’m here…but it’s a long story. First, we need help. You’re not okay!”

“You’re here,” he repeated to himself, his voice that of wonder. “I-I’m okay now,” he replied with so much warmth as he struggled to lift himself up to look at you. “I just need to sleep. It’s been a long ass day,” he groaned, the ache from his head was slowly dissipating from the proximity to you, yet its intensity since they landed was at its highest. He knew it would take him the whole night to recuperate. But somehow, he knew he could do it easily with you by his side. He didn’t even care why you were here, or even how you got here. What was important was you were now here where you belong- with them.

Against your better judgement and completely unaware of the thoughts running in his head, you nodded as you followed his directions to his room. Just like his personality that you knew him of, his room was no non-sense in a way that all things were functional. It was apparent that the man favored minimalism and comfort over luxury. It was clean and uncluttered, with just the essentials neatly arranged. The bed, large and inviting, dominated the room, adorned with crisp white sheets and a fluffy comforter. A single nightstand stood beside it, holding a small lamp and a few books.

You helped him settle onto the bed, arranging the pillows behind him to support his weary body. He let out a contented sigh as he sank into the softness, his eyes closing momentarily in relief as the weariness slightly subdued.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with gratitude. His eyes held sincerity and warmth. The way he was looking at you, the way he was holding on to your wrist because he didn’t want to let you go only served as reminders of your guilt. He wouldn’t be acting this way if this was normal circumstances.

Your negligence that day brought you here. And those emotions he was showing you were not real, you reminded yourself.

"You're welcome," you replied softly with utmost sincerity, a gentle yet sad smile playing on your lips. "Do you need anything else before I go?"

He had you now, why would he let you go?

It was his rationale as he pulled you to lie beside him, the surprisingly comfortable bed and his enescapable hold were enough to tire you out, you pushing him away did nothing. Despite your inner turmoil, you found yourself yielding to his pull, sinking onto the bed beside him. The warmth of his body radiated against yours, a stark contrast to the chill of your guilt-ridden thoughts.

And when he whispered for you to stay, you did.

It was barely an hour later when Yoongi was awakened by the annoying buzzing of his phone. He looked at you, a smile tugging on his lips at how your mouth was agape as you slumbered off in his arms. You were just so adorable that he wanted to put you in his pocket. He grinned at that thought. He already felt better.

You were the cure, he was sure.

However, the headache seemed to be returning from the persistent phone calls he was getting. He sighed, picking up his phone carefully to not wake you up only to find out it was a videocall from Taehyung.

“Hyung! Where are you?” his deep voice resounded over the quietness of the room. Yoongi, on the other hand, had to lower the volume immediately.

“Shut up,” he admonished him quietly, careful to not arose you from your sleep.

“Are you…sleeping?! When we’re all worried about you?!” the camera spanned out to Seokjin who was eating calmly, lacking any evidence of worry that Taehyung was claiming while Jungkook was running in the background, looking for Yoongi in every corner and even under the furniture. Meanwhile, Jimin was on his phone trying to rank up on his games.

“Yes, you’re right. It’s clear that you’re all worried about me,” he noted in a deadpanned voice, not believing any bullshit coming from Taehyung’s mouth.

Namjoon entered the frame casually, his eyes taking in his hyung’s rested form. He had an inkling of suspicion as to why. “You look well-rested, hyung,” he stated his observation, his complexion looked healthy in comparison to Taehyung’s. Yoongi raised his brow at that. His initial theory that the span of time spent without you was making them sick only got stronger because of Namjoon’s healthier look.

“Did you find our gift?” Hoseok asked from behind the two men, casually hanging his arms on their shoulders. He was smiling. But his eyes held a certain darkness they usually didn’t have.

“I did. We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?”

Wednesday, Day 2

“No one told me that we have an adorable new housemate.”

The six sleepy men sitting around the dining table looked up as soon as Park Jimin entered the room, in his arms was a fluffy cat that was actively hissing at him. He cooed down at it, softly stroking the thick fur with his hand that was now sporting claw marks.

“We’re already so close!” he announced with softness in his voice despite the repetitive kicks brought by the furry creature in his arm.

“I don’t think you are liked very much…” Jungkook quietly commented, his doe eyes went even larger at the bleeding scratches on his skin. As if sensing an opportunity to escape, the cat suddenly wriggled free from Jimin's arms and darted across the room, landing squarely in Hoseok's lap.

“Hi, my son! Did you have a good night’s sleep?” he asked affectionately, reaching down to stroke the cat's fur.

“Hyung has a secret son!” Jungkook whispered to Taehyung in a scandalous manner, clutching his nonexistent pearls. Taehyung, who looked like he lived and fought through three wars from his exhausted form and his sluggish movement only nodded at Jungkook.

“Whose cat is that? Is that yours, J-hope?” Jin asked, pointing at the cat with his mug. He didn’t know that they now had a furry housemate. Additionally, he didn’t know that he was a cat person.

Namjoon just smirked at his brothers, “That’s not his.”

“My God, I am so tired,” Jimin sat next to Taehyung, his muscles aching with exhaustion. With a heavy sigh, he leaned his whole weight on his friend, seeking some semblance of comfort in their shared weariness.

"Everything hurts," Taehyung moaned, mirroring Jimin's sentiment. He glanced over at Namjoon, pleading silently for a solution. "We need her. Hyung, please. Do something," he implored, his voice tinged with desperation.

Jungkook finally put down his spoon with a loud thud, standing up to look at them one by one. “Okay, I cannot be the only one curious about whose cat that is!” he pointed at the cat who only meowed back at him before shifting his finger to his hyung who was silently eating with a smile on his face. “And you, why do you look so good this morning, hyung, while the four of us look like we are 3 hours away from passing away?” he asked Yoongi, his doe eyes demanding answers from the chaotic bunch that only turned more chaotic as the morning wore on.

Yoongi, taking a leisurely sip of his coffee, raised an eyebrow at Jungkook's question. His lips curled into a smirk, revealing a hint of amusement. "Well, Kookie, some of us are just naturally blessed with good genes," he quipped, his tone teasing.

“Excuse me?! Are you saying that I am not blessed with good genes?! Me?! The world wide handsome?! Now, you’re just outright lying!”

“Hyuuuuung, do something! I think I’m dying!” Taehyung shouted amidst the noise.

“Stop screaming you’re scaring my son!” Hoseok shot back all while covering the cat’s little ears.

“Whose cat is that even?!” Jungkook asked again in disbelief, the vein in his throat protruding from annoyance and curiosity.

“Oh my God, Taehyung! I already did something, okay?!” Namjoon finally raised his voice for him to hear.

“Ahhhhhhh, my head hurts and she’s the only cure! I have to go to her!” Jimin whined sadly, attempting to leave his chair slowly.

“In that state?!” Jin shouted at Jimin and Taehyung, already feeling the stress causing havoc on his otherwise beautiful face.

But Taehyung and Jimin were already halfway out of their chair, clutching their heads dramatically. "I can't take this anymore! I need her!" he wailed, his eyes darting around the room with desperation only to find you by some miracle.

“Little one…” he called, his voice small as though he couldn’t believe that you were truly there. It was like their pain manifested you, and heavens, it was worth it. He’d willingly go through this pain if it meant seeing you and having you here where you belonged.

With them.

“Good morning, has anyone seen my cat?”

Your voice, despite it being low, was sufficient to effectively stop the bickering among the CEOs. How they heard you amidst their own noise, you didn’t know. One thing was for certain, though. They were attuned to you like lovesick men did. Their eyes were on you with varying emotions. Jungkook was surprised, to say the least. Taehyung and Jimin, on the other hand, were relieved. Yoongi's smirk widened into a grin, his eyes sparkling with delight at the sight of you. Seokjin stared at you in disbelief, as if trying to comprehend how you managed to appear amidst the chaos. Namjoon and Hoseok exchanged a knowing glance, their expressions reflecting a sense of contentment and joy. The pair looked like they secured an extremely important deal and even won the lottery at the same day.

You didn’t see Taehyung moved but you certainly felt how his heavy body fell against yours. You certainly heard his sigh of relief even as he swayed on his feet.

And when you touched his hand to support him, that was when he fell.

Suffice to say, no one made it to the office today.

You were seated beside Taehyung on the sofa, his thighs plastered to yours as though any space was considered a sin. He had your hand tenderly imprisoned in his. On your other side was Jimin who had his head in the vee of your shoulders. You were their medicine, they were sure.

Meanwhile, you were anything but comfortable. You were never really a fan of skinship, always the one who was reserved and preferred physical distance when surrounded by people. And yes, you were aware that thousands, if not millions, would kill to be in your spot right now but that didn’t make you any more receptive to their proximity. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, not with the way they were watching you.

Especially not with the way Hoseok’s eyebrow raised whenever you even so much as attempted to move. His pointed gaze held you in place, a silent warning against any attempt to flee.

You were stiff. But you knew, and quite frankly you were starting to believe the effectivity and potency of that wretched potion. You already witnessed five of the seven men almost crumbled to the ground from the unbearable pain. There was no way that that was not connected to that potion.

“When did the pain start, Taehyung-ah?” Seokjin asked as he flustered over the younger CEO. He was pouring hot tea for the two agemate, his innate mother instinct surfacing. Despite that, he couldn’t help but look at you with small smile on his lips. He was happy that you were here, truly happy for the first time in ages. It was like his heart calmed down, the darkness slowly vanishing from his mind now that you were in their vicinity. Now, he could just focus on taking care of you

“At around 6 pm…less than 12 hours after little one ran from me,” he finished with his signature pout, turning to you as though he was a puppy you kicked aside and was begging you to take it back. “I was so sad when you ran from me, little one.”

“You also ran from me,” Jimin added, his pouty lips protruding even more as he glared at you. “It deeply wounded me. I am still hurt over that, you know? I woke up so early just to see you.”

“She also ran from me…” Jungkook's voice joined the chorus from his place on the floor with his back leaning on your knees, adding his own layer of disappointment.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” Namjoon asked the peculiar man in concern, his worry lessening as Taehyung started to gain back his colors.

“Because! Hyung looked sicker than me!” Taehyung response was quick while pointing at Yoongi who was looking at them stoically. He looked bored, except when he turned to look at you and then all of a sudden, he was shooting sweet smile at your direction, his fingers forming heart sign. You blinked owlishly at his sudden display of affection.

“You idiot, he’s just naturally pale!” Seokjin admonished him even as he continued to feed him light snacks.

“Next time, say something when you’re not feeling well,” Hoseok broke his silence, a smile forming on his lips and you just knew it was fake. “Our little one is with us now. We no longer have to suffer, right, sunshine?”

The weight of Hoseok's words hung in the air, wrapped in the softness and faux innocence of his tone. It almost seemed like an innocent question, but you couldn't shake the feeling of caution that settled in the pit of your stomach. After all, it was Hoseok who ensnared you in his web and brought you into this situation.

Seokjin, sensing the tension between the two of you, directed your focus on him. His body was now turned to you, his form relaxed as he offered you a gentle and encouraging smile. “How did you get here, little one?”

“Daepyeonims Kim and Jung-“

“I take back what I said last night. I love you and you’re the best leader anyone could ever have!” Jimin suddenly said, jumping from his seat to cling to the aforementioned CEO. After which, the five of them listened to your retelling of how you got here.

“It’s true that we had an inkling of why we are acting…well, the way we are,” Seokjin noted after a lapse of silence, looking down at his hands as he did so. “It was the only plausible explanation, regardless of how illogical it was.”

“We weren’t- aren’t behaving normally. We thought back to everything that transpired during that day and the only deviation was our interaction with you.,” Namjoon took charge of the explanation, his voice steady and authoritative, as befitting a leader. “At first, the symptoms were bearable to say the least. I even managed to hold off for the whole day until I saw you in the elevator. And even then, I was already suffering. The pain was nothing I ever experienced before. All I could think about was you. All I craved was your presence. All I wanted that whole day was to go to you.”

Yoongi nodded, experiencing firsthand the excoriating pain last night. “Everything was a struggle. It’s like our organs were not functioning properly, like oxygen struggled to enter our lungs no matter how hard we breathed.”

“And you are the cure.”

You lifted your eyes to Park Jimin who sounded serious for the first time this morning. His smile was even missing from his face, but his eyes held genuineness. “You’re the only one we need, little one.”

But instead of feeling relieved, you felt suffocated, overwhelmed by the weight of their dependence on you. The realization that you held the key to their well-being filled you with a sense of panic, the walls closing in around you. You wanted to help them, to ease their suffering, but the burden felt too heavy to bear. With all seven of them relying on you, the pressure threatened to crush you under its weight.

As you struggled to find your voice amidst the chaos, a sense of dread settled in the pit of your stomach. The repercussions of that potion were far greater than you could have ever imagined, and now, you were left to grapple with the consequences. “Until when?”

You untangled Taehyung’s arms from you and moved away despite the whine that left Jimin. You stood up, your back almost to the wall as you regarded them with your eyes. “Until when will you need me?”

“We don’t know, yet, my love,” Namjoon answered truthfully at the same time Taehyung.

“Forever,” his deep voice resounded over the room, the weight of his words heavy in the air.

Silence descended, thick and palpable, as the gravity of the situation settled upon each of you like a suffocating blanket. The only sound was the faint hum of the ventilation system, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within your mind.

Forever. The word echoed in your ears, reverberating with both promise and dread. The thought of being tethered to them indefinitely sent shivers down your spine, a chilling reminder of the magnitude of their reliance on you.

Jimin shifted uncomfortably, his eyes pleading as he reached out a hand towards you. "Please, don't leave us," he implored, his voice tinged with desperation.

Your shoulders dropped down at his plea. You knew yourself all too well. You had to help them. You had to go at the bottom of this. You were going to be patient.

But patience was never your best suit.

You finally had it at exactly five in the afternoon. See you didn’t even last for 10 hours and you already felt suffocated. Anywhere you went, there would be at least two of them tailing you. Every time you turned to ask for space, they would be flashing you the sweetest smiles you were ever given. Every time you ran into Yoongi, he would blatantly offer you all his stocks; Jin was always seen to be carrying snacks around for you and trying to feed you; Namjoon would always try to herd you in his display room of paintings and sculptures; while Hoseok would always look at you then his phone and order you clothes that you wouldn’t even dream of buying from the price alone.

Meanwhile, the maknae line was always around you, beaming with energy and trying their very best to rizz you up. It was safe to say that they were doing their absolute best to make you lose your composure.

Which is why you abruptly stopped walking, turned around, and glared at the men behind you that almost crashed into each other, including your cat that was following you around the house.

“May I help you?” you asked, your brow raised as you waited for their answer as they looked at each other.

“Yes, little one. You definitely can help us. Let’s go over there and cuddle!” Jimin smiled angelically at you as he pointed upstairs to what you assumed was his room. See, this man looked so harmless. In fact, you thought he looked the sweetest among the seven, but his eyes could never fool you. You physically saw someone blushed so hard when he smiled at them, his eyes crinkling into crescents as he brushed his hair up like he was fond of doing.

On the other hand, Taehyung, ever the agreeable companion to Jimin, nodded vigorously, his boxy smile widening as he looked at you expectantly. Jungkook was bouncing on his feet, excited with the prospect that he got to have you in his arms despite his inability to meet your eyes at the moment.

Wednesday Evening, Day 2

“We need to talk,” you huffed as you pushed the three men inside what you assumed was the common room of this huge mansion.

Seokjin, who was already inside the room and enthusiastically playing his game, rapidly turned it off despite obviously winning to give you all his attention. His back was straightened after kicking his gaming console away. The way he was looking at you made you blushed, but you were deathly determined to not show it. You were terrified that if you gave in even an inch, then these men would gladly take a mile. You couldn’t let yourself drown in this scenario, and most of all, you shouldn’t let yourself fall for them.

These were just effects of that wretched potion. None of these were real.

“Yes, little one? What’s on your mind?” Namjoon’s voice suddenly disrupted your thoughts as he walked in the room, his posture relaxed. He intentionally brushed against your side, his hard muscles softly swaying your soft one, satisfying the call inside him to have you near him. He leaned against the table where Hoseok and Yoongi were working. They both gave you their attention as soon as you declared that conversation needed to be had.

“Speak your mind, sunshine,” Hoseok urged you gently with a smile on his face as though he didn’t terrify you the night before. Your eyes lingered on him, still unable to read his true personality. Or which among the versions he showed you were his realest?

Yoongi nodded when he saw you hesitated, giving you assurance you obviously needed to continue.

“I need space.”

Cue the tears from Jungkook, chaos from Taehyung and Jimin, rapid reasoning from Seokjin, dramatic clutching of heart from Yoongi partnered with a deathly glare to the who he assumed made you say those wretched word; maknae line, clenched of jaw from Namjoon and deafening silence from Hoseok. Despite the expected mixed reaction, one emotion rose above them all.

Panic.

As though they had one mind, the six CEOs turned to look at Namjoon, a plead for him to make sense of what was happening and to fix this for them. It was obvious that they needed you like air, if not more. Their survival hinged on you, and that was not even an overstatement.

Seokjin, ever perceptive, sensed the uncharacteristic struggle within the lead CEO. Namjoon’s jaw was clenched, a sure sign of his struggle to maintain composure in the face of the unexpected. In a move only Seokjin could execute with dramatic flair, he jumped away from you, creating a symbolic distance that echoed your plea. He was pointedly looking at the expanse of space between of the two of you as though this was what you meant when you knew he understood what you truly meant by space.

“There, little one,” Seokjin spoke softly, his voice carrying a weight that resonated through the room. His eyes were dark that held a mix of understanding and yet, a stubborn determination. “Space.”

You sighed, looking up at the peculiar-looking chandelier you just knew was Taehyung’s idea. “That’s not what I meant-”

“Then what do you mean?” Taehyung cut you off, his earlier tirade and childlike rebellion with his agemate were nowhere to be found and instead, who stood before you was an entirely different man. Had you looked closer, then perhaps you would have seen the swirling darkness in his eyes.

“You know we’d die without you. Why are you doing this?” Yoongi, who was still clutching his heart, spoke lowly. His eyes that you thought to be always emotionless were brimming with sadness. His words tugged at your heart.

But if they just let you speak, then they’d understood-

“Is that what you want?” Hoseok asked monotonously, and this time he didn’t look like the lively and full of sunshine CEO. This time, he looked like a dangerous man who was about to go off. He lifted his dark brow before standing up and circling to where you were. He was close, too close and yet, none of him was touching you. The height difference between the two of you made him seemed more intimidating as he leaned down to meet your eyes. “You want us to die, is that it? Hmm?”

“No-“

“Then what?”

“I just need space for myself-“

“But noona! I need you. We need yo-“

You turned to glare at Jungkook who actively gulped when he saw the daggers in your eyes. “Can you let me speak? Can you all let me finish?”

“Yes, noona. Sorry, noona. You’re so beautiful, noona,” he rapidly said as he formed hearts with his fingers, his smile was lovely as though he didn’t just annoy you.

“All of you,” Namjoon’s commanding voice echoed in the room, his draconic eyes set on you even as he addressed his brothers. “Sit down and let little one talk.”

Once they were all settled in with the five men sitting on the sofa, Yoongi not moving from his seat, and Namjoon standing tall- a deliberate choice, you thought, to let you know that you might have the floor but he still held the reins, you started explaining to them how you could not do this if it meant that you wouldn’t have any time for yourself. In order to leave this house once this was all over with your sanity intact, then you had to have rules and regulations like civil men did.

Yoongi's eyes narrowed slightly, as if assessing your resolve. Jin shifted in his seat, his expression unreadable. Hoseok glanced between you and Namjoon, silently absorbing the tension. Taehyung and Jungkook remained quiet, their eyes fixed on you, waiting for your conditions. Jimin scoffed lightly.

“What do you propose?” Jimin asked, his velvet smooth voice seemed to be innocent had you not known that he identified as a Slytherin.

“2 hours each. I think that since there are seven of you, that would be 14 hours of my day-“

“Dibs to the remaining 10 hours!” Yoongi suddenly said, his hand shooting up and his face held determination and a hint of mischief. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Yoongi as he leaned back comfortably in his chair, a sly grin playing on his lips.

Jimin raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable for a moment before a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Bold move, Yoongi," he remarked, his tone light but edged with amusement. "I, myself, am also vying for those ten hours, little one."

Yoongi shrugged nonchalantly, uncaring of what Jimin was saying. "I know what I want," he stated simply, crossing his arms as he leaned back further in his seat, looking supremely confident. “And anyway, now that I had her in my arms last night, I really don’t think I can sleep alone, anymore.”

“Excuse me?!” Taehyung stood up, facing Yoongi with disbelief in his face. “How did that happen-”

“Does being the oldest not mean anything anymore?!”

“You might as well step on me, hyung! You might as well kick me where it hurts the most- oh wait! You did!”

You shook your head as maknae line plus Seokjin screamed at each other. Meanwhile, Hoseok was trying to keep the peace. Namjoon was the only one who kept on watching you, his mind going over an overdrive as to how to resolve this all while maintaining their leverage over you and keeping you happy.

“Fine, we accept.”

They all turned to Namjoon, their eyes comically large at how easy their leader agreed. “We do?” Hoseok asked.

“Either that or lose her. Or die. So yes, we agree. In return, within those two hours of your undivided attention, you’ll cater to our every need.”

You blinked owlishly at what he said. And also, did he have to say that like that?!

“F-fine! But those ten hours will truly be mine, okay?”

“What will you even do within those ten hours, noona?” Jungkook asked innocently, his doe eyes brimming with curiosity.

“Shower, sleep, eat, meditate so as to not lose my mind-“

“But why can’t we do all those things together?” Jimin whined, swaying his body in emphasis of his desire to be included.

“Because! That’s private-“

“But we’re close!” Jungkook added, his eyes wide and earnest.

“Oh my God, you idiot,” you heard Seokjin murmured under his breath, disappointed and quite frankly, embarrassed by the youngest’s stubbornness.

“Two hours start when?” Hoseok finally asked something that could be answered logically.

“7 in the morning and ends at 9 in the evening.”

Thursday morning, Day 3

“Rise and shine, my one and only!”

Your room was gently engulfed by light as Kim Seokjin opened the door at exactly 7 in the morning. He was still wearing his blue pajamas and in his hands was a tray with what looked to be a delectable mug of coffee. You blinked your sleepiness away as he stepped in the room. He carefully placed the tray on your bedside table, before cupping your cheeks in between his hands and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

Okay.

That woke you up.

His gesture was unexpected, and it most probably showed on your face from the way he chuckled as he booped your nose.

“Ah, you’re so beautiful even in the morning, little one!” He exclaimed before stepping back and flicking the curtains open further, letting even more sunlight stream into the room. How was this fair, you wondered. How could he look so perfect and put-together even when he was still in his sleepwear? You glanced at the mirror on the wall and was horrified to see how opposite you looked to the man who just declared that you were so beautiful in the morning.

If you didn’t believe in the effectivity of the potion before, then you definitely did now. Your hair was all over the place and you had sleep in your eyes.

And oh my God, was that a dried drool on the side of your lips?!

You immediately made yourself presentable the best you could before Seokjin sat on your bed, lifting his own mug to his lips…his very plump lips. He was unfazed by your awkward demeanor.

“I am so glad I have this schedule. Nothing beats spending the morning with you,” he murmured warmly, his eyes shining with sincerity and love(?) “I made breakfast, little one. Get ready and come down, okay?”

It was quarter to eight when you finally joined him in the patio where he set up the breakfast. He was already dressed for work like you, his hair now sleeked up. Also, how could a forehead look that good? Did that even make any sense?!

He turned to you and smiled. His eyes traced your form before standing. He gently tugged you in his arms, completely engulfing you within him. You could hear his heart and hoped that he couldn’t hear yours; it was definitely embarrassing how fast yours was beating in comparison to his. You weren’t really used to being physically close to anyone, let alone your CEOs that you never had personal interactions with before this.

“I didn’t put on at tie yet because I wanted us to match,” he easily shared in your ear before guiding you to your seat as though what he did was not meant to make your heart beat faster.

You looked at all the mouthwatering dishes he prepared and wondered just how long he had been awake for. “Where are the others?” you hadn’t seen nor heard any of them in the house and you wondered if they had already eaten.

Seokjin merely smiled at you before artfully cutting pieces of the croissant he made for you and putting them on your plate. “Little one, it’s my time. You’re mine.”

“For two hours…” you added, suddenly feeling ominous by the way he worded his schedule and his dark eyes despite the sweet and seemingly harmless smile he was sporting.

“Sure.”

After he dropped you off in your office wherein he held your hand all the way from the car until he delivered you to your office chair, he planted a kiss on the back of your hand despite your reluctance. You couldn’t help but noticed the grip he had on you, nor the way he looked around the office and glared at any men glancing your way.

And of course, everyone in the office saw.

At exactly 9:01 am, a bouquet of flower was sent to your office. The sender? None other than Jung Hoseok himself.

He was sure to be punctual, not wasting any second off his scheduled time. He thought that time was gold, and he wanted nothing more since he woke up to be with you.

Sufficed to say, Jung Hoseok craved you so bad.

Your eyes widened from the sunflowers to him as he flashed you his sunny smile as though he didn’t scare you the past days with his warnings. “For the most beautiful part of my day.”

You could hear the murmurs of your officemates, and you were already dreading the gossips that would surely come. You wondered how they would look at you once this was all over. For sure, you’d be the laughing stock of the ton.

You most probably have to resign…

“Darling?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Hoseok tilted his head as he leaned in you, his hand on your armrest. This close and you could smell him. And heavens. He smelled heavenly. He smelled clean and crisp, like the subtle touch of ocean breeze. This close and you could see how perfect his features were, how harmoniously proportionate they were. This close and you could see the darkness he always kept in bay.

“What are you thinking?”

“N-nothing-“

“Tell me,” he demanded gently, his eyes trained on your lips like no one was looking, like you and him were existing in your own world where no one could touch you and take you away from him.

Where no one could take you away from them.

“I-“

“Good morning! I have great, great news!”

Your friend breezed into the office, fashionably late as usual, her face lit up with excitement. The room buzzed with curious glances as she made her way to her desk, her eyes searching until they landed on yours. The grin she was sporting faltered off as the CEO turned to her with an expression she didn’t like before it all went away and Hoseok flashed her a smile.

“G-good morning, Daepyeonim Jung.”

“Good morning,” he answered cheerfully, fully straightening up and granting you the much-needed space to catch your breath. “What’s your good news?”

She looked at you, and only when you nodded did she whisper the news that her grandmother knew someone from the mountains that had the answer and solution. Her voice was hushed enough that your coworkers couldn’t hear her, yet clear enough to give you hope. Your grin was so wide as you stood up and hugged her.

It was only when you turned to Hoseok to share your happiness did you notice something unsettling. His expression had darkened briefly, a shadow passing over his features before he hastily composed himself with a bright smile.

What was that?

Before you could dwell on that, he declared it good news and pulled you out of the office.

You found yourself standing in the middle of his office as he plopped down on his chair, stack of paper on his table that grew in size from missing yesterday’s work. He seemed busy, yet he was looking expectedly at you. His eyes were serious as he gestured for you to come closer.

It was apparent he wasn’t happy with the distance when you decided to stop three feet away from him. His eyes remained impassive as he sighed and without any warning, pulled you to him. You landed on his surprisingly muscular lap, your hands automatically going to his shoulders in an effort to steady you.

Your eyes widened at his actions and any attempt to stand up was squashed by his ironlike grip around you.

“Didn’t you promise you’d cater to our every need when we agreed on that ridiculous two-hour schedule?”

“And having me on your lap is a need?!”

“It is. I want- no. I need you close,” and only when he confessed did you see the miniscule tremors in his hands. He was nuzzling his face on your neck, breathing in the scent he missed so much. Your soft skin against his touch somehow calmed the demons. If he was already like this despite you seeing him last night, then it meant that their symptoms were worsening like what your friend warned you of. The more time you spent with them and the more that your skins touched meant that their lovesickness would only worsen in time.

You were dreading to think what would happen to the remaining CEOs and how they would act, more so when Jimin and Namjoon were in the last two.

Namjoon's schedule sneakpeak Jungkook’s schedule sneakpeak, Part 3 sneakpeak, Part 3

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #ot7 x you #bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #kim namjoon fic #kim seokjin fic #min yoongi fic #jung hoseok fic #park jimin fic #kim taehyung fic #jeon jungkook fic #bts smut

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thedensworld · 3 months ago

Text

Black Card Issue | L. Jh

Genre: fluff, est. relationship, smut

Summary: after a fight, Jihoon didn't expect to receive notifications for a revenge. However, he's not complaining.

Note: having so much fun writing this with @hoshifighting please check lyla's blog here!

Welcome to the densworld woozi🧚‍♀️

Jihoon is a chill man. Very chill. He values his peace of mind so much that no one dares disturb him when he’s in the zone, writing music. His studio is his sanctuary, a place where time stops and the world outside becomes irrelevant. No one crosses that boundary. No one—until you came into his life.

A little bundle of surprise, Jihoon would say with a soft smile. You changed everything.

You love surprises. It’s something Jihoon figured out pretty early on, back when you were just dating. And now, after years together and tying the knot, he knows it’s not just something you like—it’s a part of you. You’re the kind of person who thrives on spontaneity. The joy in your eyes when you do something unexpected, whether it’s a small gift or a sudden change of plans, has become a familiar sight. Surprises are so integral to your personality that impulsivity became second nature to you, a habit you didn’t even realize you had.

And Jihoon? Well, he’s had to become well-trained in handling it.

It wasn’t always easy, especially in the beginning. Six months into dating, Jihoon was already struggling to keep his composure around you. You were a whirlwind of energy and unpredictability, and Jihoon was the type who liked things calm and structured—especially when it came to his work. But then you would send him something, like that photo on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, just as he was about to attend a critical production meeting. A suggestive caption accompanying a picture of you that left him flushed and flustered.

He spent the rest of that day with his head spinning, barely able to focus on anything other than you.

His team noticed, of course. They always noticed when Jihoon was distracted—because it was rare. They’d been with him for over ten years, watching him pour his soul into his music, dedicated and unwavering. But you? It took you mere months to have Jihoon wrapped around your finger. And the best part? Jihoon willingly let it happen. He wanted to be wrapped around your finger.

And as much as his members teased him, he didn’t mind. Jihoon had always been the calm one, the focused one, the one who could drown out the world when he needed to. But with you, he didn’t want to drown out anything. He wanted to hear your laughter in the background while he worked. He wanted to receive those random photos in the middle of his meetings, even if they made him blush.

Now, Jihoon finds himself in his studio. Not the one at home, but the company studio. It was unusual—his fellow producers were surprised to see him there at this hour. 10 a.m.? That’s too early for Jihoon to be at work, they thought, especially since he rarely left the home studio after getting married.

“Did you two fight?” Soonyoung asked, making a quick stop before his schedule.

Jihoon didn’t answer. He simply turned the volume up, drowning out Soonyoung’s voice. Soonyoung scoffed but left, convinced that the only reason Jihoon would be at the company so early was if you two had fought. He knew Jihoon too well.

"Stop working for a while, man. Give your wife a rest," Soonyoung muttered as he left the studio. Jihoon cursed internally. How could Soonyoung read him so easily?

The truth was, last night didn’t go well. It was one of those nights Jihoon wished he could rewind—just take it all back. He came home late again, far too late. The kind of late where the house was eerily quiet, and the only light on was the one in the living room. He didn’t even realize how long he’d been working until he saw the notifications on his phone—your texts, your missed calls.

His heart sank. The guilt hit him immediately, but exhaustion numbed him from fully acknowledging it. He braced himself as he turned the knob, pushing the door open, hoping maybe you had gone to bed. But there you were, sitting on the couch, arms crossed, your phone lying idle beside you. You weren’t saying a word, but your silence screamed disappointment. And Jihoon knew—he’d screwed up again.

He paused at the doorway, waiting for you to say something, anything, but you didn’t. The air between you was suffocating, thick with unspoken words. He could feel your eyes on him, and it made his stomach twist. He hated it when you looked at him like that, like you were waiting for him to care enough to explain himself.

But instead of apologizing, instead of doing what he knew he should have done, Jihoon snapped.

"I work for you! I work hard to afford the life you want! Why don’t you understand?!" His voice rose, frustration dripping from every word. He didn’t mean it to come out that way. He didn’t mean to make it sound like you were the problem, like you were the one pushing him to the edge. But in that moment, he was too overwhelmed to control it.

The silence that followed was deafening. He saw the way your face fell, the way your shoulders slumped as if his words had physically weighed you down. You didn’t even argue back. You just stood there, absorbing the blow, your eyes wide and hurt, like you couldn’t believe the person you loved could say something so cruel. Jihoon could see it—the disappointment, the pain, the betrayal in your eyes.

He knew you weren’t with him for his money. He knew that from the start. You never cared about his fame, his success. You never asked for lavish gifts or expensive things. What you wanted—what you always asked for—was him. His time. His presence. But Jihoon, in his frantic rush to meet deadlines and exceed expectations, had forgotten.

He was so tired. The stress had piled up to the point that it felt like he was suffocating under the weight of everyone’s demands. His work was relentless, the pressure from his team to deliver perfection was unending, and somewhere along the way, he started feeling less like a person and more like a machine. And in all of that, he had forgotten you were the one person who treated him like a human being. The only person who reminded him to eat, to sleep, to rest.

But last night, Jihoon saw something in your eyes he never wanted to see again—pain. He had hurt you, and the worst part was, you didn’t deserve it.

You didn’t even say a word as you left the room, walking away with that shattered expression on your face. He stood there, frozen, wanting to chase after you, to take back everything he’d said, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t think straight. The weight of everything felt too much.

Jihoon ended up sleeping in his home studio that night, staring blankly at his laptop screen, his mind racing with regret. He didn’t get any work done. How could he? All he could think about was the way you looked at him, the way your lips trembled like you were fighting back tears, the way you didn’t even argue because you were too hurt to speak. He hated himself for it.

The guilt gnawed at him all night, so by the time morning came, he couldn’t bear to be in the same house. He thought if he went to the company studio, if he just got out, maybe it would clear his head. Maybe he could focus on work and forget how badly he had messed up.

But he couldn’t. You were all he could think about. Even surrounded by equipment and projects, even as he tried to drown himself in work, his thoughts kept drifting back to you. The regret kept replaying in his mind like a broken record, and the truth settled in his chest like a lead weight—he could never stop thinking about you. He never could.

And now, sitting alone in the company studio, he could still see your face in his mind, the hurt he had caused, and it tore him apart.

"Jihoon…" His manager knocked on the door, pulling Jihoon from his deep focus. He turned his head toward the reflection in the glass and saw someone entering. Quickly, he put down his headphones.

"The bank called me," his manager said, concern lacing his voice. "Someone's been making a lot of purchases with your account, and they couldn’t reach you. So, I got worried."

Jihoon blinked, realization dawning as he remembered he had turned off his phone earlier to avoid distractions. He hurriedly switched it back on, and as expected, notifications flooded his screen. Among them were a surprising number of texts from you.

Curious, Jihoon opened your messages, and his eyes widened. You had sent him a series of photos—shopping bags piled high, receipts for luxury items, and then… a car. You bought a car?

Jihoon sighed, rubbing his temples as he scrolled through the notifications of credit charges—clothes, electronics, and more. Why did you decide to buy all of this in one day?

"Everything’s fine. It’s just… my wife," Jihoon said, a little embarrassed as he reassured his manager. "No one’s using my card without permission."

His manager chuckled, seeming relieved, before leaving Jihoon alone with his thoughts.

Just as Jihoon exhaled, another text popped up. A photo of you in a jacuzzi, clearly in some luxurious hotel, wearing a brand new red bikini. The caption that followed made Jihoon’s breath hitch.

You: Want to give me the life I want? Come here. Turns out, spending your money doesn’t satisfy me enough.

Jihoon sighed deeply, his face growing warm as he hurriedly turned off everything in his studio. It was no use—he’d have to go get his black card back from you. Or maybe get something else.

You feel the dash of cold air hit your skin as you lay back against the heated tiles of the jacuzzi, legs lazily draped over the edge. You can’t help the little smirk pulling at your lips as you scroll through Jihoon’s texts. He’s gonna kill you. Well, maybe not kill, but he’ll definitely be pissed off. The shopping spree, the car, the photos—God, you knew exactly what you were doing. Pressing his buttons like that, getting him riled up on purpose, all because he had the audacity to shout at you last night.

But, you’re done with his bullshit excuses. He can whine about deadlines and stress all he wants, but you’re not here for that. You’re here for him, and clearly, he needs a little reminder.

The door to the hotel room opens, and even with the sound of the jacuzzi jets bubbling, you hear it. He’s here. Your heart skips a beat as the familiar, steady thud of Jihoon’s shoes echo in the space. He doesn’t say anything at first, but you can feel the burden of his stare on you, heavy and unrelenting. His presence is like a storm, silent but brewing.

You stretch your arms above your head, not even looking up, knowing full well he’s staring.

“Took you long enough,” You hum, voice saturated by fake innocence, like you hadn’t been the one who set the whole thing in motion. “figured you’d be quicker if i spent a little more of your money.”

Silence.

Then, the sound of him setting something down—his keys? maybe his bag? You don’t care. You hear the shuffle of his shoes being kicked off, and that’s when you finally open your eyes.

Jihoon stands at the edge of the jacuzzi, arms crossed, jaw tight, his eyes dreary and locked onto you.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he finally speaks, voice low, a growl almost. “what do you think you’re doing?”

You shrug, acting like you don’t feel the tension. “Just giving myself a little treat. After all, i am your wife. Don’t i deserve the best?”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything, just stares at you for a moment longer before his hands move to his belt. Your eyes widen, mouth parting slightly. “Oh, you think this is funny? You think you can just spend my money, send me those pictures, and i’ll come running?”

“Well, you did come running…” You mumble as if you were talking to yourself.

Jihoon moves, and before you know it, he’s crouched beside the jacuzzi, fingers hooking into the strap of your bikini top, pulling you closer to him with little resistance. “You know,” he murmurs, his voice rough, “this is the last thing you’ll be wearing tonight.”

Before you can even form a reply, he tugs at the fabric, and the red bikini snaps, tearing with a sharp rip.

Jihoon stands back up, the smirk on his face teasing you in a way that gets under your skin. His hand casually tosses the torn bikini top aside like it’s nothing, he looks at you, riling you up on purpose. He doesn’t rush; he takes his time pulling off his shirt, his pants.

You narrow your eyes, trying to keep the annoyance in check, but he’s pushing your buttons. “Really?” you ask. “You had to rip it off just to mess with me? You’re such an asshole”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, taking a step closer until he's right in front of you again. He leans down, pushing you back into the jacuzzi, the water sloshing as your back hits the edge. “You look mad, but I bet you’re dripping right now.”

You can even think of a response, his hand slips into your bikini bottoms just as he sits down. His fingers brush lightly over your clit, not applying pressure, just teasing, circling it slow just to watch you squirm. You twitch under his touch, your legs parting on instinct, hips bucking just slightly. He’s not giving you enough, and he knows it.

“You like to play these games, baby?” he murmurs. “Teasing me, spending all my money. What’s the real reason, huh? Just wanted my attention this bad?”

You bite back a moan, refusing to let him win so easily. “Shut up,” you manage to grit out, but the breathlessness in your voice betrays you. His thumb starts rubbing a little harder, making the bud throb on his thumb. You feel your body arching toward him, a needy moan escaping despite yourself.

“No...” he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. “I wanna hear you say it. You knew I’d come running, right?”

His fingers press harder now, slipping lower, teasing your entrance without pushing in. Your hands grip the edge of the tub, eyes rolling back slightly as he continues torturing you.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you hiss, your words catching in your throat as his fingers pick up the tempo. He’s still circling, still rubbing, but it’s not nearly enough. You need more, and he knows it.

“Oh, I’m annoying?” he growls softly, leaning his weight into you, fingers pressing harder, deeper, but still not giving you what you need. “What’s annoying is you buying cars and booking hotels like you don’t already have everything you want right here.”

Your legs spread wider, hips instinctively grinding down against Jihoon’s fingers as they tease your entrance. Your hand shoots up to grip his wrist, trying to gude his fingers in, but he stills the arm, cupping you. His other hand trails up your chest, stopping to toy with your nipples, flicking and squeezing them just enough to make you gasp. Then, wetting the valley of your breasts, his hand moves to your throat, wrapping around it in a firm grip, pushing your head back until it rests on the cold border of the jacuzzi.

“You’re so needy,” Jihoon mutters, watching as your mouth falls open, eyes half-lidded, breath coming out in shallow pants. You feel his thumb graze over your bottom lip, smirking as if he’s amused by just how desperate you’ve become. He hasn’t even given you what you want yet, but you’re already a mess for him.

Finally, his fingers push inside, just one at first, but the way your body responds—instantly clenching, your pussy practically swallowing his finger whole—makes him groan low in his throat. The water ripples around the two of you, splashing lightly against your skin as his movements grow rougher.

“God, you’re soaked,” he chuckles, voice almost mocking as his finger curls inside you, hitting that sweet spot making your hips jerk by their own. Even with the water swirling around, Jihoon can feel the heat between your thighs, the sticky slickness of your folds clinging to his fingers as he slides in another.

Your grip tightens on his wrist, trying to pull him closer, but he doesn't let up. Instead, his fingers work you harder, pumping in and out of you making the water splash with every push. The sound is obscene, the wet slaps of his fingers echoing in the room, blending with your suffered moans, and Jihoon's grunts.

You lift your gaze to him, lips parted, eyes pleading, practically begging for more. You look up at Jihoon with a needy expression that you know drives him crazy. But he just grins, slowing his movements slightly, his hand tightening around your throat.

“Aww, look at you,” he coos, voice soft despite the way his fingers are fucking into you hard, relentless. “Such a pretty little mess. You like this, don’t you? Me ruining you with just my fingers?”

You can’t form words, your head tilting back more as his pace quickens again, fingers curling deep, hitting the spongy spot that makes your vision blur. The water splashes harder now, droplets spilling over the edge of the tub as your hips buck in time with his thrusts. Your legs tremble, thighs shaking, and all you can manage is a soft whimper, your entire body arching toward him.

Jihoon chuckles again, watching you fall apart beneath him. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, fingers pumping in and out faster, thumb rubbing over your clit in quick circles. “You’re so fucking tight… taking it so well. What do you want, huh? You want more?”

Your breath catches in your throat, his words making your body ache. You nod frantically, too overwhelmed to say anything. The hand around your throat loosens slightly, giving you a moment to breathe, but he doesn’t stop. His fingers continue their brutal pace, fucking you deep, and you know he’s not stopping until you cum around his long fingers.

You feel your stomach flip when Jihoon curls his fingers and stills them, making your body arch off the jacuzzi edge as you instinctively reach for him, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him down to kiss you.

The kiss is brutish, dirty—his lips smashing into yours, teeth clashing as his tongue slips into your mouth. He sucks your tongue hard, biting down on your bottom lip in that way that always makes your legs tremble. You can’t focus, the pleasure building too fast, making it impossible to keep up with the kiss. But you try, you desperately try, your hands clutching tighter in his hair.

It’s only a matter of seconds before your body betrays you. You moan into his mouth, the sound low and drawn out, muffled by the kiss. You pull him closer, your grip tightening painfully in his hair as the pleasure crests, your body trembling as your back arches impossibly high.

Your nipples graze his chest, the sensation of your sensitive skin brushing against his, makes him shiver, his breath hitching as your slick cunt clenches hard around his fingers.

Your moans become more frantic, desperate, and you can’t keep kissing him anymore. Your mouth falls open, head tilting back as you gasp for air, your body seizing up with the strength of your orgasm.

Your pussy tightens around his fingers, your thighs shaking uncontrollably as you cum, the water splashing violently around you from the press of your movements. Jihoon smirks down at you, clearly proud of himself, fingers still thrusting into you even as you come down from your high. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, voice soft but teasing. “Cum all over my fingers.”

Your mind is still swimming in the hangovers of your orgasm when Jihoon suddenly pulls his hand away. You’re left panting, trying to catch your breath, but he’s already manhandling you, turning you around and pressing you into the edge of the tub.

“Get on all fours,” he orders. You don’t hesitate, your body moving on autopilot as you shift into position, knees pressing into jacuzzi, hands bracing yourself against the edge.

Jihoon’s grip is firm as he presses you down, making sure you don’t slip on the slick surface. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you steady while he strokes himself behind you. You glance back, seeing him gripping his cock, pumping himself slowly, the tip flushed red and dripping with pre-cum, some veins popping up when he cuts the blood circulation. The sight makes your mouth water.

He lines himself up with you, the head of his cock teasing your wet pussy, but he doesn’t push in just yet. Instead, he grabs your bikini bottom—what’s left of it anyway—and yanks it harshly to the side, exposing your swollen, sensitive folds. You feel the fabric digging into your skin, tight and uncomfortable.

Jihoon watches, mesmerized, as your pussy clenches around nothing, your body still sensitive from your previous orgasm. Slowly Jihoon pushes inside. He takes his time, savoring the way your walls squeeze around him, they way you slick starts to coat him too, your body struggling to accommodate his size. You whimper, fingers clawing at the edge of the tub, trying to keep yourself stable as he fills you inch by inch.

He moans deep in his throat, the sound oscillating through his chest as he bottoms out, his cock buried fully inside you.

You bite your lip, arching your back even more, desperate to take him deeper. “Jihoon… please…”

But he just chuckles darkly, pulling out slowly, only to slam back in, making the water splash around you both again. “Oh, you’ll get what you want,” he promises. “Just keep taking it like that.”

His fingers tangle in your hair, tugging hard enough to make you gasp. The sharp pull has you arching back, your spine curving as he yanks you up against his chest, your back pressing flush against his front. The new angle makes his cock hit even deeper, your breath hitching as the tip grazes that swollen spot inside you.

Jihoon glances at the nearby mirror, his eyes glued to the reflection of your bodies. Your tits bounce with every thrust, soft and flushed, his eyes darken, watching the way your skin sticks to his, the way your body—though trembling—melts against him, sacrificing to the pleasure despite every nerve in your body wanting to tense up.

He moans suffered, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, feeling the warmness radiating off your skin. You’re burning up, both of you are, your bodies slick with sweat despite being submerged in water seconds after. Jihoon can’t help but bury his face against your neck, breathing you in, skin to skin, letting the sensation take over him.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against your shoulder, his lips brushing your skin, almost as if he's talking to himself. “I missed this. Missed you.”

His hips don’t stop, driving into you harder, your thighs shaking as you try to keep up, but your body is already on the edge. You’re clinging to him for dear life, your head falling back against his shoulder, mouth falling open as breathless moans slip out with every thrust.

“I’m sorry,” Jihoon suddenly murmurs, his voice softer now, tender. He keeps thrusting into you, but there’s an apology laced in every word, every snap of his hips. “I’m so fucking sorry… for everything.”

You don’t answer, can’t even if you wanted to. Your breath is caught in your throat, the only response you give is the way your body clings to his, melting further into his hold as his hands roam down your body.

He doesn’t expect you to answer. Maybe he doesn’t even need you to. He just keeps going, fucking into you like he’s trying to apologize through the way his body moves against yours. His grip loosens in your hair, his hand sliding down the curve of your waist, lower, until his fingers find the puffy bundle of nerves between your legs.

The second his fingers brush over your clit, your whole body tenses again, only to relax almost instantly as he starts rubbing teasing circles. You whimper, legs trembling, hardly competent to hold yourself up, and Jihoon groans into your skin, feeling the way you melt even more against him.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathes, his voice raspy in your ear. “Always take me so well… fuck… so tight, baby… you feel that? You’re clenching around me.”

You don’t say anything, just a soft gasp escapes your lips, your head falling back further onto his shoulder, exposing the column of your throat to him. His fingers quicken their pace, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, every brush of his thumb over your swollen clit making you cry out.

“I know I fucked up,” Jihoon whispers, his forehead still pressed to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. "But I can’t stop… I can’t stop thinking about you. About this. About how good you feel around me.”

Your chest heaves with each breath, your thighs trembling uncontrollably as his hand continues working you, his other arm wrapping around your waist to hold you tighter, anchoring you to him. His fingers press harder against your clit, drawing tight circles that make your whole body twitch, every nerve ending alive and buzzing.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxes, his voice dipping into that familiar, filthy tone, the one that drives you insane. “Cum for me… I know you’re close. I can feel it. You’re squeezing me so fucking tight.”

You’re so close, your vision blurring as the heat in your core builds higher. Your body’s completely given in to him, to the way he’s fucking you deep and hard while his fingers expertly play with your clit, not giving you a single moment of respite.

And then it hits, hard and fast. Your back arches, body tensing as the orgasm rips through you, ripple after ripple of pleasure crashing over you as your pussy clenches tight around him. Your hands reach back, desperately grabbing at anything—his hair, his arms—trying to ground yourself as you moan out his name, breathless and trembling.

Jihoon groans at the feeling, his cock throbbing inside you as your walls pulse around him. “Fuck… that’s it,” he rasps, his hand slowing its movements on your clit, letting you ride out your high. He’s still buried deep inside you, his cock twitching, and he watches in the mirror as your body shudders against his.

He doesn’t pull out. Instead, he shifts you forward, placing you on all fours again, his hands steadying you as he lines himself up once more. His hand slides down to your ass, pushing your bikini bottom further to the side so he can watch as your tight puffy walls flutter around him.

Without delay, he starts thrusting again, his pace slow but deep, watching as your body tenses, clenching around him every time he sinks in.

Jihoon lets out a series of the neediest, whiniest moans you've ever heard from him, and it hits you differently—vulnerable, like you’ve broken through every layer he keeps guarded.

Then he sinks in fully and stops.

You slouch forward, your whole body going limp as you brace yourself on your forearms. You feel him pressed against your back, the warmth of his skin sticking to yours as his breath hitches in your ear.

And then it fills you—heat as his cum spurts deep inside you. Hot, thick, and it has you crying out, your voice breaking as your body quakes beneath him. You can feel every pulse of his cock as he fills you up, making your insides feel impossibly full.

Your back trembles under his weight, every muscle in your body quivering as his release continues to flood you. Your pussy clenches around him involuntarily, trying to milk every last drop from him, and it only makes him groan louder.

“Shit,” Jihoon breathes, his voice a wrecked, breathy mess as he leans forward, his forehead pressing into the back of your neck. His hands grip your hips tightly, like he’s using you to anchor himself through the intensity of his orgasm. “Fuck… you feel s'good.”

Your head drops onto your forearm, unable to do anything but take it all in. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, a warm, slick sensation as it mixes with the water around your thighs. Your legs are shaking, your core aching, but you don’t want him to pull out, you want to stay like this, to feel him deep inside you just a little longer.

Jihoon’s breathing finally starts to slow, his body still pressed flush against yours as his arms snake around your waist, holding you tight. You hum softly in response, his cum continues to spill out, and you can feel every slow drip as your pussy flutters, trying to recover from the relentless pounding he just gave you.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to glance down at the sight of your trembling back. A soft smirk tugs at his lips as he watches how your body reacts to him, still sensitive, still on edge. “Look at you,” he whispers, his tone soft but teasing. “You’re still shaking. Did I fuck you that good?”

You don’t answer him; just let out a shaky breath. Your body is completely spent, and you can narrowly keep yourself upright. Jihoon chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your damp skin before pulling out slowly, the loss of him leaving you feeling empty and aching. The last bit of his cum leaks out of you as he does, and he watches, fascinated, as it mixes with the water beneath you.

He moves to your side, pulling you into his chest, his hands rubbing gentle circles on your back as you both come down from the high.

Jihoon gently lifted you from the jacuzzi, his hands steady as he wrapped a robe around your body, drying you with care. His touch was soft, and the tension between you started to ease with each moment. He laid you down on the bed with tenderness, his eyes flickering with a mix of concern and regret.

As he stepped away to quickly clean himself up, you could feel the weight of his emotions lingering in the air. When he returned, Jihoon slid into bed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his warmth pressing against your skin. His embrace was tight but comforting, as though he was trying to hold on to more than just the moment.

"I'm sorry..." His voice was barely above a whisper, yet the sincerity in it was undeniable. He rested his forehead gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet space between you. "Please forgive me."

You could feel the vulnerability in his words, a side of Jihoon that he rarely showed.

You lay there in his arms, feeling the tension in his body slowly release as he held you close. His apology lingered in the air, filled with emotion you hadn’t heard from him before. For a moment, everything was quiet—the warmth of his skin, the sound of your breathing, and the beating of his heart against yours.

Jihoon pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness. His brows furrowed, and he seemed almost afraid of what you might say. You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek, the familiar sensation calming you both.

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me,” you whispered, the weight of the past argument starting to lift. “But it’s hard sometimes, Jihoon. You get so lost in your work…”

He nodded, the regret still heavy in his gaze. "I know. I promise I'll do better. I can't stand the thought of losing you, or pushing you away."

His words tugged at your heart, and you could see how much he meant it. There had always been that side of him—driven, focused, and dedicated—but sometimes it made him forget everything else. Still, here he was, trying, apologizing, and making the effort to put you first.

Without saying anything, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, your lips brushing his in a soft kiss. Jihoon sighed against your mouth, relief and gratitude flooding through him as he deepened the kiss, his arms tightening around you as though he couldn’t bear to let go.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads touched again, both of you breathing a little more steadily now.

“I forgive you,” you said softly. His eyes brightened at your words, and you felt the tension finally melt away completely. Jihoon smiled, a rare, gentle one that you didn’t see often enough, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pulling you closer again, as though he couldn’t get enough of having you in his arms.

Jihoon sighed deeply as he glanced around your living room, cluttered with bags and boxes of things you'd bought earlier that day. His eyes scanned the array of items before he asked, half-jokingly, “Is it even possible to empty my bank account in a single day?”

You smiled, shaking your head as you tried to ease his worry. “Don’t stress. I can sell them all on the marketplace. They’ll be gone in two days, tops. I promise.”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow and picked up one item that particularly caught his attention—a pair of leopard-printed underwear for men. He held it up with a bemused expression, “Leopard print... for me?”

You grinned mischievously, “Yup! Oh, and I got you the hot pink one, too. Thought you’d look great in it.”

Jihoon groaned, his face a mix of amusement and disbelief. “You know it was a joke when everyone said i wear these kind of panties, right? There’s no way I’d ever wear these.”

You crossed your arms, stepping closer with a playful smirk on your face. “Oh, I can make you wear them,” you teased, your tone light but daring.

Jihoon chuckled, shaking his head at your persistence. “Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe,” you replied, your grin widening. “I have my ways. Just wait until you see how good you look in them.”

He rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips. “You’re impossible.”

You stepped even closer, standing on your toes to whisper in his ear, “You’ll thank me later.”

Jihoon’s laughter filled the room as he pulled you into a hug, shaking his head. “You never give up, do you?”

“Never,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. "And trust me, you’ll look amazing in leopard print."

With a defeated sigh, Jihoon gave you one more playful glare, “Fine. But don’t think this means I’m wearing the hot pink ones too.”

“We’ll see about that,” you replied, your voice full of challenge and laughter as you leaned into his embrace.

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