#the drug deal scene
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Mean and Scary | Chapter 1: King of Hawkins High
AO3 Link:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/48053206/chapters/121165750
Pts: 1, 2, 3
As he traipses through the woods, Eddie tries to get a bearing on what is about to happen and what his plan is for when it inevitably goes sideways.
Dealing pot to Hawkins Royalty like King Steve isn’t entirely out of the ordinary, but doing it alone at a picnic table in the middle of the isolated woods? Yeah, not Eddie’s smartest decision for a meeting place.
In his defense, he’s only a hop skip and a jump away from the high school, and he couldn’t be assed to drive any further for what’s likely going to be a one time payment of $20. $25, if he overcharges Steve (which, he absolutely plans to do.)
Eddie finally gets to the clearing and Steve jumps when he notices him, finally looking away from a tree he was seemingly having a very intense staring match with.
“Whoa, hey, hey, hey! Sorry,” Eddie chuckles a bit awkwardly, trying his best to subconsciously communicate that he is not a threat, because he really doesn’t wanna get his lights punched out right now “Didn't mean to scare you.”
Eddie sits down and his metal lunchbox clatters onto the table —Steve flinches again. Boy, Harrington is jumpy— and sits across from him. He opens up his Pail-o’-Drugs and watches as Steve drums his fingers on the table.
“There's, uh... There's nothing to worry about. Okay? No one ever comes out here. We're safe. I promise.” Eddie honestly didn’t expect Steve Harrington to be worried about being caught, considering that Steve apparently used to hold daily house parties.
He still can’t believe it. King Steve goddamn Harrington sitting there, in all his douchey glory. Or at least, that’s what Eddie expected. Instead he sort looks exhausted. His eyes keep flitting around, and he looks like he just saw a ghost.
You see, Harrington was never a dick to Eddie, specifically. However, he sure as hell didn’t treat the freaks of Hawkins High with any sort of sympathy. Hence Eddie’s original plan to act like the biggest asshole he possibly could without scaring off a rich customer. But something about Harrington’s eyes, a sort of dull terror etched into the hazel brown, is making Eddie reconsider that decision.
“So, how does this work, exactly?” Steve sort of mutters. This is so utterly different from everything Eddie heard about him. Steve always roamed the halls with a sick sort of ironclad confidence, with his two jackals Tommy and Carol following his every beck and call. The boy across from Eddie though? He seems so haunted. Like a flickering projection of someone. A puppet with its strings cut.
“Uhh just like any other old sale, except cash only, and for obvious reasons, no receipts,” he gives Harrington what he hopes is a reassuring smile, “I'll do you a half ounce for, uh... 20. What do you say? Plenty of bang for your buck. Should last a while.”
A squirrel skitters up a tree in the background, and Harrington gasps quietly and whips around to track it. And then, finally, it clicks for Eddie.
Steve’s worried about being seen with Eddie the Freak Munson. Figures. He shouldn’t have expected anything less from King Steve.
“Hey, we don’t need to do this. Just give me the word, and I’ll walk away.”
“It’s not that, I don’t want you to go.” Steve starts, tentatively. He’s still looking around, like somethings about to pop out of the woods. “It’s just…Do you ever feel like you’re loosing your mind?”
And, of course Eddie feels like he’s lost his marbles. He’s a super senior with the nickname the Freak. Obviously he sometimes feels a little crazy. He’s a little surprised that notorious cool guy Steve Harrington feels that way, though.
He makes the decision right then and there to see this out, because even if Harrington’s afraid of being caught, there’s something here that Eddie’s missing.
“You know on a daily basis. I feel like I’m loosing my mind right now,” screw it, might as well be honest, go big or go home right? “doing a drug deal with Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High.”
“Ah, well, I haven’t been king for a while…” Steve trails off.
Eddie remembers Billy Hargrove. Remembers how he made him want to beg every god there was for Steve to steal back the crown. Billy Hargrove was mean to Eddie. He was mean to everyone. And he wasn’t highschool-mean either, he was Larry Munson mean. He was a jackass who wasn’t afraid of anyone and wanted you to know it.
Unprompted, Eddie remembers the first time he met Steve. Before he was Hawkins Royalty, before he was a jock and a bully, before Eddie was the freak and not just a freak. Eddie had just gotten to Hawkins, his old man had been put away and the US government dropped lil’ Eddie on Wayne’s doorstep. He’d met some friends and formed a shitty garage band. They’d played at the middle school talent show, and Eddie had lost his guitar pick. A boy about his age had given it back, told him his name was Steve and he had found it underneath his chair in the seats.
“You know, this isn't the first time that we've, um... Hung out.”
“No?”
Eddie lets out a little chuckle. Of course Steve wouldn’t remember. “It’s alright.”
He clutches at his heart like he’s been shot with an arrow and flings himself off the bench and into a pile of leaves behind him. He hears Steve let out a little gasp before he hops back up.
“I wouldn’t remember me either, Harrington!”
Steve looks a little amused, and Eddie catches a light brown blob in his peripheral vision. He combs his fingers through his hair and dislodges a dead leaf.
“Honestly, do I have stuff in my hair?”
Steve lets out a little chuckle as Eddie starts to gets into his story. If there’s one thing Eddie Munson is good at, it’s story telling.
“Middle school, talent show. Carol I think did this cheer thing? You know the thing the,” Eddie mimed some pom poms. Steve was smiling a little bit, so Eddie continued his spiel, “and I- I was with my band.”
Suddenly Steve pipes up “Corroded Coffin! Oh my god!”
Eddie’s bewildered that Steve apparently remembered their weird prepubescent metal show. He claps his hands excitedly and points to Steve. “You do remember!”
“Yes, of course! With a name like that, how could I forget?”
“I dunno. You’re a freak.” Eddie’s pretty pleased with himself when his lack of brain-to-mouth filer apparently doesn’t offend Steve. In fact, Steve breaks out a smile. It’s less Harrington Charm then Eddie expected, more of a dorky toothy grin.
“No you just- you looked so-“
“Different? Yeah. Yeah. Well, uh, my hair was buzzed, and I didn't have these sweet old tatties yet.”
“You played guitar right?”
“Uh-huh. Still do. Still do.” And since Eddie is an impulsive mess and isn’t totally hating this interaction, he does something that totally spits in the face of the tried and true Munson doctrine and invites a preppy jock to a metal concert, “You should come see us. Uh, we play at the Hideout on Tuesdays. It’s pretty cool. We- we actually get a crowd of about five…drunks.”
Steve laughs a bit and clamps a hand over his mouth, like he’s a bit startled by the noise. Eddie doesn’t blame him, he’s a bit caught off guard too.
“It’s not exactly the Garden, but, you gotta start somewhere, right?”
Steve looks at Eddie with a considering gaze for a moment, like he’s trying to figure Eddie out.
“You know, you’re not what I thought you’d be.”
“What, a total freak?”
“No, no. Honestly? I thought you’d be mean. And scary.”
“Me? Steve Harrington thought I’d be scary?”
“Yeah! You’ve got this whole, I dunno, chains and leather vibe. Thought you wouldn’t give me the time of day.”
“Yeah, well, I thought you’d be mean and scary too.”
“Yeah?”
“Terrifying.” Eddie’s hit with the sudden realization that he’s completely forgot about the drug deal he came here for and plops himself back down at the picnic table. “Uh, so, in other good news, flattery works with me, so... Twenty-five percent discount for the half. Fifteen bucks. You're robbing me blind here, you know.”
“…do you have anything maybe stronger?”
#Steve Harrington as Chrissy Cunningham#steddie#Steve Harrington#steve gets vecna’d#eddie munson#the picnic table scene#the drug deal scene#idk what’re we calling it#lemme know if you like this#I might write more actually!#steddie ficlet#steddie fic#steve harrington fic#eddie munson fic#stranger things 4#stranger things volume 4#steve x eddie#stranger things fanfiction#Ao3 version available#it’s linked in a reblog#Mean and Scary#< for some reason that tag won’t work on this post
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Do you think frost dad is any thing like king cold
Hmm, I can't say I have enough of the details from Frieza's end to make an apt comparison, but from what I've been gathering from his blog misgivings, I think his father at least gave more of a rat's ass about his children.
Take a scroll down my blog, you might spot some of my complaints~
#answers#anonymous#((most of the similarity between Cold and Shiver is their forms both being in second with Shiver's being shorter#he's the mafia side rather than royalty and prefers the more shady underhanded dealings compared to Cold being more upfront as a conqueror#Cold is more doting on his children albeit with less than wholesome intentions while Shiver is very hands off; Frost was an 'accident'#there's still involvement from Shiver behind the scenes in Frost's work but it's more managerial than anything#on account of his upbringing Frost is what Frieza would consider uncouth; exposed to more things like gambling drugs etc#and quite sultry for being a chronic virgin#the hero stint keeps him from completely corrupting into his father and he's ultimately raised more by his associates and PR))#((sorry for the mod tag ramble it got longer than I thought))#suggestive
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Has anyone here watched Milky Way? There was a discussion about it in class and a guy said that it's a show that needed to be done bc of the things it has and all (he said something about the girl who got pregnant and wants to have an abortion and her co-star who never hid his sexuality)
And another girl said she disagrees with him, and that the show is awful and should have never even be an idea
Which I think is kind of harsh? Not even an idea?
Like, I haven't watched it thats why I'm asking here, the only thing I know is that people described it as "Greek Euphoria" and hated it bc theres a gay in it or something.
And that it's like? Too much? Nobody acts like that
Which I guess sounds like Euphoria, but if Euphoria has such a fan base why do people hate this one
Shows aren't always supposed to be realistic, who would watch a show about a 17 year old studying about Panhellenics huh? It's more interesting if she tries to sell drugs instead you know
#dont do drugs#i only saw a scene on tiktok with them making a deal or something#sugarenia talks#milky way
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Sat politely ankles crossed hands folded please say you have more thoughts about the DC deweys. Lazarus pit cold-eyed stare pristine and bloodthirsty anyway I would love to hear any further thoughts if you have the time + energy + motivation
how i imagine you waiting for me to re-read the resurrection of ra’s al-ghul and hush vol. 1+2:
ALRIGHT. in no particular order, thoughts about the dc deweys
connor fits very well into the mold of a talia al-ghul for me; chip on his shoulder, femme fatale, deadly and precise. he’s not the loudest but he’s got a dry wit that’ll cut you!
“why is connor an al-ghul at all and not batman” well first of all he’s already got the water connection, i’m gonna go dip him into the lake a couple hours north of the pas to make him incredibly long-lived, rejuvenated and beautiful
second of all i want him to be a questionable villain/antihero because he looks evil in those pictures but like beautiful evil. you see him at a multi-million dollar soirée and he’s bored of being there wearing his “heritage” beads and jewels he originally had from a thousand years ago. he and his assassins are only here to murder the head of state who’s planning to lay a pipeline through ancestral grounds
rip brandon duhaime i simply cannot imagine you as any kind of batman. lacks the gravitas, too much of a yapper, loves his wife too much. i curse thee to be green arrow if you’re in this narrative at all
assuming connor stays with toronto, would LOVE to think about toronto as one of the sites of the lazarus pit for many reasons
(a brief aside here to say that for me personally this is interesting if connor goes to winnipeg because i think they suit him better, he’s a manitoba boy, but re: the chip on his shoulder, he’s NOT a manitoba boy. he’s from the pas and very proud of it)
a) the amount of ‘toronto is the center of the universe’ hockey creation myths i can play with & birth/rebirth/reincarnation. if you WANT to feel unhinged trying to blend hockey and comics is an ice rink not just a pool of water?
b) mr. cathal kelly i love your works!!! toronto eats its young!!! thinking about this very literally in the sense of the resurrection arc where players come to toronto and are sacrificed, give up their body, their skill, in service of the demon’s head, and lose themselves.
c) we see echos of the same narratives and styles over and over again—if i can hop over to the flyers for a second, there is of course the curse of the *8s (18 richards, 28 claude, 48 danny b, 68 nolan, 88 lindros) but ALSO the danny brière -> tk -> morgan frost celly chain. every generation a resurrection, emerging clean and new from the pit
can you just briefly hold my hand and imagine wayne gretzky as an evil ra’s al-ghul wanting to possess a new body. gretzky i’m sorry to malign you and i know you never played in toronto but you are the best player in my head to fit the idea, i’m open to other suggestions
coming BACK to green arrow dewey (i did not re-watch arrow or re-read those comics sorry) connor could also be black canary, who takes a brief dip into the lazarus pit (toronto) before getting married to oliver. i do like that narrative but because we were talking about pristine and cold-blooded i figured connor dewar head of the league of assassins was more what you were after
now that i’ve gotten through world building… choose your own adventure narratives?
hockey-ish au: connor chosen as a host for the Next One. i think the lineage of the great one -> next one -> next next one -> next one up of gretzky -> crosby -> mcdavid -> bedard is taken, BUT i can imagine that the league of old boys all have the same intentions. connor gets sent to toronto unknowingly being prepped to get body-snatched by ???? and brandon duhaime of course accidentally stumbles on the plot and they have to fight to stop it
connor assassinating people :) snapshot of the head of the league of assassins delegating which major world events they’re going to change today. would love his shark face from the gifset to have blood spattered across it, ideally.
version 1 as head of the league of assassins: brandon is one of his assassins, big strong bodyguard type. devoted to him, would lay down his life, perfectly designed for connor (lady shiva/cassandra cain-ish). connor orders for something to be done and brandon does it there for him then gently wipes the blood off his face and apologizes for being careless and getting him messy.
version 2 as head of the league of assassins: an actual plot where connor aims to assassinate SOMEONE but brandon gets in the way. they meet at odds as their respective roles (hero, leader of a crime syndicate) but are magnetically drawn together as their alter egos. eventually brandon puts together the pieces of the Big Evil and manages to (legally!-ish as much as vigilante-ism can be legal) take it down and the ending panels show a tentative friendship and recognition of potential shared goals
also, jaromir jágr is immortal. don’t know if this is relevant OR related but he is. personal hot spring lazarus pit?
um. thanks for coming to my 1.5k ted talk (including tags). what a way to moritz seider lore drop that i DID grow up a comic book nerd, lmao. thank you so much for enabling me <3 i'll be here all week thinking about which teams would get what rings in a blackest night au
#contrary to popular belief (guy whose brain is like ‘but we already wrote the fic!’ any time they try to write with an actual outline)#[also i know what i said but i CAN write with an outline it just tends to be for y'know. not fic. (research and thesis papers lol)]#i DO actually know how to write up storyboards for comics & could in theory do a story if someone wanted to draw. or do a ‘zine dewey first#meeting comic because i’ve become enamored with the soirée scene i made up. also i want connor emerging dripping wet out of the slime#like it’s a nice wet bath the way they draw comic book girls framed ever-so-carefully to not show anything too provocative#both of those things can exist simultaneously if you want it bad enough. simultaneous mirrored panels of dewey1 fighting crime hours before#the soiree and getting consistent updates that he's going to be late so and so is arriving so and so will be there (OH I HAVE JUST DECIDED#THAT IT WILL BE HOSTED AT HIS ESTATE/CORPORATION DUH) and he's in the process of breaking up a drug deal chasing guys down & then sprinting#back brief shower with the pool of dirt and blood under his feet &slipping into his cufflinks his loosely buttoned shirt tucking his chains#under the collar gel on his hands cologne on his neck & swanning in late but he's precisely on time because he gets there RIGHT when connor#does too because this whole time we see the parallel panels of brandon stepping out of the darkness to reveal the green arrow mask & connor#stepping down iNTO darkness already done covered in blood & scratches the not-sexy but sexy drop of all his clothes where you see the#silhouette of his back (can't tell if i want this to be a direct parallel of brandon getting into the shower OR because what i haven't said#yet is that this is both of them in opposite -> they are simultaneously stripping & re-making themselves somewhat literally for connor but#it's taking OFF the green arrow for brandon to be his “true” self / connor stripping off his title as the demon's head (his “true” self) to#be connor dewar the act of polite high society &the implications in both that we see them taking off one skin and putting another on. which#one is real. brandon thinking duhaime the billionaire playboy is real vs connor thinking the dewar heir is the act&do they switch/challenge#each other throughout the course of their interactions of course) &then lmao the fighting parallel with fighting demons not going insane in#the lazarus pit to the puddle of blood at brandon's feet mirrored in a puddle of soaps/beautiful scented oils in connor's post-pit bath#& flower petals. have i this entire time been imagining connor in a slinky selena kyle-esque backless dress yes BUT we can for the sake of#being normal put him in a crisp beautiful expensive black suit with beaded accents. both of them spritzing cologne brandon & his bracelets#connor and his league of assassins ring ohhhh it would be so good to parallel brandon putting his cufflinks and accessories on with connor#getting dressed & fitted with spy gear. brandon stripping his weapons in the beginning -> connor thigh sheath knifes in garters in the end#&they both meet in one big panel/the title page cover at the top of the stairs & there's some kind of dialogue about being fashionably late#& at all times yes i am inspired by that one photo of brandon in his ridiculous coat with no shirt staring at connor who doesn't know he's#looking. that with this. and in the next set of panels connor wipes off a bit of dirt or blood brandon missed in his quick shower & brandon#in his playboy billionaire persona flirts incessantly with connor but truly is obsessed & wants to know more about what he's the heir to.#WHEN THE ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT HAPPENS BRANDON GOES TO PROTECT CONNOR BUT CONNOR'S ALREADY GONE/ALREADY SECURED HIM SOMEWHERE SO HE DIDN'T#GET HURT both of them simultaneously trying to protect the other in their “civilian” act. &brandon as green arrow thwarts the assassination#liv in the replies
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Dramaworld 2x09
#dramaworld#my gifs#claire duncan#Jung Man Shik#liv hewson#honestly absolutely perfect vibes all the way down#the fast and furious dedication to found family#getting found family zoned by the vampire ping pong drug dealing mob boss#him absolutely clocking the gender vibes#assigned little brother by hyun#dw*scenes
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not with fan-fiction because that’s already examining existing characters but I kinda feel like original fiction stories should have at least one side character there could be entire novels about
#I’m saying this from a learning perspective I’m very new to original writing#I’ve done it before but not on this level & not in a long time#anyway#Maeve Oliver#my beloved. I can’t believe I’m writing a drug dealing modern witch who sells drugs for years of people’s life’s#has a permanent on again off again relationship with her husband where they are perpetually divorced & still in love#& a codependent bestieship with her son#feat. a highly contentious relationship with her daughter#& she’s getting 2 (two) scenes. a handful of lines. and one brief pov section#crazy….#a stairway to nowhere#I’m obsessed with Maeve Oliver. a fave side character I’ve written for sure
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i gotta say it fellas, im much more interested in skyler's ethical journey than walt's
#i love skyler she hasnt done anythig wrong besides being kind of a square at first but w/e shes yanqui and it was 2008#anyway in One episode One scene she managed to cook up a better more cohesive lie than walt in three seasons and i love that for her#and just! walt's self justification for so many things he does is 'for the family' even when thats flimsy at best#but skyler's truly is For Her Family. So flynn/jr and holly dont have to deal w/ yknow daddy is a drug dealer & mommy turned him in#and for marie! to give her the money for hank's trearment!#tani's personal shit#brba#Smth smth s1 skyler vs s3 skyler but w/e its 4 am. suffice to say i Like her
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✌🏻
#so for my job I have to go to a lot of crime scenes and talk with witnesses blah blah blah a lot of the time it’s in an unsafe area and I#I always try to do my job in a safe way managing the different factors like timing but I always get the work done#so much so that last week I was asked to go canvas an area I had already been to to canvas five other times for a murder and had seen drug#deals and robbery and fights and all that go on while I was there#and I brought up that it wasn’t a good time for us to be there we weren’t safe at that time and I was told I needed to suck it up and do#what was needed for the case#flash forward to a few minutes ago my supervisor came to talk to me about another case#for a murder that I had previously talked about being upset about because I had walked by the place it happened 20 minutes before the murder#and was told that it doesn’t bother anyone else and basically to suck it up#so for this case the attorney had gone to my supervisor and told him that she thinks I’m ineffective at my job and she believes I’m afraid#to go out on the scene for investigative work because I’m a white girl#and my supervisor came to tell me that he’s going to be working with me on my cases for the time being to go out into the field and locate#witnesses and so on to show her that it doesn’t bother me and I’m not afraid#which like honestly all around this is fucking ridiculous I have done this job for nearly two years I have gone to the#site of multiple murders I have gone to witnesses addresses#I have been inside victims homes to talk with them all of this all alone#and honestly that attorney is a fucking bitch who has humiliated me for having feelings about cases before so it’s infuriating but hardly#surprising but the fact that my supervisor thought this was a legit enough concern to now go with me on my cases and go through all the#steps I’ve done and everything I just feel so disrespected and not valued#last week I took last minute leave because the cases were bothering me too much and everyone was telling me I needed to get over it and it#doesn’t bother them which like sorry but I feel like having to see someone’s brains on the pavement is upsetting#and it feels like I’m being edged out because I have human feelings about our cases#even though I have done this work and done it well for two years#I’m just really sad and angry about it
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i am overall glad that i left comedy nerd spaces (esp since i got out while the getting was still good and i didn't have to hear other people make their bad jokes about the various creeps ousted from their thrones with credible accusations of sexual misconduct), but i do sort of mourn that an entire swath of my foundational nerd knowledge is rendered useless by exclusively staying in a space that thought john mulaney was a wholesome friendly good guy for three years until he eventually displeased them
#this post is not really about john though i do have more to say. because i knew about him before he was tumblr popular#and i did always think it was weird that no one went any deeper than the memetic stuff#i didn't want to go knocking on doors asking for the devil but it was. odd. and i liked other people from the chicago alt scene more#i'm just saying that overall being a person who has ever liked and cared about comedy who lives on fandom tumblr can be baffling#because people have the wildest takes about what comedy should be and what is funny#and they are wrong. because funny isn't always punching up. and funny breaks any rule you try to box it into#and it cuts into the vulnerable just as much as the powerful and to pretend otherwise is foolish#i'm not sure where i'm going with this. i'm just saying words recreationally#one thing my partner and i bond over is a deep fascination and love for standup comedy and the power of cadence#and when you like comedy more than casually you have to deal with the fact that it's the doing drugs and cheating on your wife artform#it's the depression and untreated adhd and autism art form. it's the suicide art form. and even when it's transcendent it's fuckin silly#so i find it easier to just pretend that i don't really care about it#but really i just shifted to being passionate about commentary youtubers (the stand up comedians of youchewb)
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It was in 1975, when Carl Resnikoff and his girlfriend, Judith Gipson, took a bucolic ferry ride to Sausalito, a city located on the north end of Golden Gate Bridge, that a revolution in youth culture, music, emotion and imagination would take place. It was on that ride that the two undergraduates took capsules filled with MDMA powder for the very first time. Resnikoff, a biophysics major at Berkeley, had synthesized the drug himself. As the boat cut through the water of the San Francisco Bay, Gipson began to feel “a floating sense of euphoria … like some guy could come walking up to us asking for help and his guts are spilling out, and we’d be grooving on how beautiful it was.’”
#the entire gabber scene is reformed skinheads pretty much on mdma#I’m dealing with it in my backyard#raves drugs don’t absolve you from the evil shit you do to people#abuse is abuse
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…
#My feelings on Renfield are weird because it’s a N/A truther movie but it’s representation of the codependent dynamic was weirdly on point#And the second m/c is a cop who’s sister is an FBI agent and the villains are drug dealing mob members and it’s critique’s of those systems#In 2023 are mild at best.#But it’s also a movie where a guy kicks another guy in the stomach and rips off his arms and then uses said arms as a weapon#And also a guy snorts a centipede like cocaine while saying the most corny line I’ve ever heard#And they build a protection circle from cocaine and said circle was made using instructions of Wiccan Tumblr#And they killed Dracula like 50 different ways to make sure he’s dead#And ngl I was very much expecting an end credit’s scene where the mob boss lady was Turned because it’s such an easy move#And it was just a fun splatterfest that I loved watching so-#I FORGOT THAT RENFIELD ATE A KIDS ANT FARM- just… Iconic scenea
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So, is the movie about latino drug dealers whose lead actors are well known usamericans with 'latino' backgrounds but who can't even speak spanish if their lives depended on it good or people voted for it because it was the most 'progressive' one of the lot? serious question
#why is it so difficult to cast latinos who can speak spanish?#ALSO??? again! latinos and drug dealing! how annoying!#its as annoying as adding that yellow filter in movies to represent the scene takes place in latam#rambless
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❛ MY SHORTY ALWAYS ON SOME BULLSHIT LIKE CHICAGO ❜
PART 3
part of the 420 'We Be Burnin' series
⋙ MENU ITEM: PLUG!CHOSO x SORORITYBRAT!READER ⋙ PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 (IN STOCK!!!)
⋙ product description (summary): choso's finally had enough and if you won't listen to reason he will fuck it into you. but will you still choose him in the end or will he make that choice for you? ⋙ side effects (tw): THE LONG AWAITED BRAT TAMING! rough sex. throat goat!reader. more angst. spanking ass/puss. teasing. edging. lots of delayed pleasure. jealousy. cunnalingus. mirror sex. dom!choso. breeding kink. dirty talk. backshots. fingering. squirting. daddy kink. thigh riding. nuru/thigh fucking. intoxicated reader. drug use (weed). slight voyeurism. yandere choso. baby trapping. mentions of violence (not towards reader). mentions of somnophilia and a lil bit of fluff. ⋙ thc levels (wc): 9.6k of 22.1k ⋙ inventory notes (a/n): best viewed in dark mode. the long awaited end! i hope you guys like it. i really worked hard on this to make it good <3 special shout outs to my betas @littlemochabunni for literally always talking me off the ledge when i want to ctrl + a+ del everything and @buttercupblu for all the grammar edits my adhd brain struggles with and inspiring me to write the last scene.
Plug!Choso who ultimately will forgive you but it will be on his terms. He just needed to show you first why the only person you should worry about pleasing was him.
Menacing chuckles rumble deep from Choso’s chest, bewildering you in your crossfaded state. Seizing you with a firm hold, he forces you to meet his gaze. Choso holds you so tightly against him that your feet barely touch the ground.
Any attempts of wriggling out of his hold are in vain.
“You’re such a fucking slut.”
His matter-of-fact statement makes you frown. You’re taken aback by the twisted amusement on his face.
“You don’t love me… You love my cock.”
“N-No I—”
Your already short skirt now bunches above your hips and Choso brings a heavy hand down onto your exposed bottom. The sting brings fresh tears to your eyes as the gems on your fishnets leave distinct impressions on your soft, malleable skin.
“You’ll have to learn to be quiet while daddy’s talking, princess.”
If you were going to act like a childish brat, Choso would treat you like one.
Another harsh spank startles you into hiccups as you sniff away fallen tears.
You’d never been spanked before—not by previous lovers or boyfriends—hell not even your parents growing up.
The last person you’d expect it from was Choso.
And yet each swift lick Choso deals you is as terrifying as it is exhilarating.
Who knew you would be such a glutton for punishment?
You fidget, biting your lip in anticipation of another.
“Been thinkin’ princess—I’ve been too good to you. But you don’t want that, eh?”
A third smack has you whimpering. Your pelvic muscles clench hard, releasing more of the desperation that had already saturated your thighs.
“You want one of those assholes outside, is that right? They’re good enough for you, huh princess?”
You can only mewl in response from the delightful pain that pierces your senses as he delivers another and another.
“S’why every time I fuckin’ come round y’er being a lil’cocktease for some preppy ass frat fuck.”
Choso wasn’t wrong.
You knew what those boys wanted from you.
Even though you had never really entertained any of them. That was the allure in itself—to be something unattainable.
Yet more selfishly, you liked the attention. Not like you’d even got the same thrill from it anymore since you were with Choso—but old habits die hard.
Choso was making damn sure of that now.
“Tryna get one of them to fuck you tonight—”
Choso’s cock twitches in sync with your trembles from every spank.
“—or were you hoping I was finally gonna put that pretty princess pussy of yours in her place?”
You’re smart enough to know Choso’s question is rhetorical and how could it not be given all your actions tonight?
It was clear you wanted him and his deliciously fat cock back—badly.
Your tongue cautiously peeks out as you try to quiet your shuddering breaths, afraid that any small movement might provoke his anger. At this point you know better than to beg too, almost certain that any attempts would only fuel the unexpected mean streak Choso had developed.
Yet despite any initial apprehension you were quickly becoming puddy in his hands.
“Poor baby, working so hard having to appease everyone—”
SMACK!
“—well you ain’t gotta worry that bratty head of yours no more—seeing as you won’t be doing none of that shit from now on.”
His threats which should have you cussing him out only make you wetter as your heart pounds in your ears from the thrill of being dominated. You’d do anything right now to get a little relief for your aching cunt that had gone a whole goddamn month without Choso’s thick cock plugging her up.
Restless in arousal, your entire being just begs to be fucked.
Releasing your hair Choso parts your legs with his knee and you collapse onto him, your plump pussy colliding with his thigh. You whimper, tightly gripping his broad shoulders for leverage to rock yourself against his thigh.
Choso could feel the intensity of the moist heat radiating from your core dampening his jeans.
“Shit, I can feel you dripping… pussy drooling just from getting that ass spanked a lil’—are you a masochist, princess?”
Choso breathes the question into your ear, his words bringing a chill over your skin fanning goosebumps all the way down to the nape of your neck.
You’re losing yourself all the more in the hypnotic state of lust swirling from alcohol, weed, pain and arousal clashing within you.
You nearly choke on the deep guttural moans that had been held in by his hand still around your throat when he grabs your hips forcibly rocking you harder against him. Your paper-thin thong does nothing to protect you from the rough threadbare material of his jeans grinding against your sensitive lil nub.
“Wearing these slutty tights with an ass like yours…”
You almost forget to breathe, the sting this time accompanied by him sliding his fingers between the gaps in the material and grabbing the fat of your ass for emphasis.
“...coulda got me in so much shit tonight if I made ol’boy who was touchin’ up on you swallow teeth.”
The baritone in his voice lowers to a deadly note, tuning every nerve in your body to the exact pitch of his voice.
“P-Please C-Cho I—”
—in an instant the hand on your hip coils around your neck.
Thumbing your collarbone, Choso slowly applies just enough pressure to activate the euphoric sensation of suffocation, sending tingles down your spine.
“Look at me princess, you better stay quiet—m’not gonna say it again.”
You choke back a cry as the elastic on your fishnets snaps against your tender skin when Choso removes his hand from them.
“But then your lil’card got pulled when you saw me with that whore, hmm?”
You wince preemptively expecting another hard spanking but Choso loosens his grip around your throat. He looks at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.
A sniffly frown complements the pitifulness of your runny makeup as you cling to him possessively.
“Y-Yeah… I-I hated seeing that d-dumb bitch all over you. Wanted to fuck her up.”
Choso is satisfied with your answer but the warmth behind his smile didn’t match the heated glint in his eyes.
“There it is. See? Bratty princesses who are honest get rewarded—”
Any relief you feel is short lived as your despair returns with the words that follow.
“—eventually.”
Plug!Choso who has you so close to release just from rutting against his brawny thigh. Yet just as you feel the hot coil about to snap in your stomach he pulls away from you.
Wobbling for stability, your panic that he would leave again subsides when he returns to sit on your bed.
Choso leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees to pack another bowl. The process is second nature to him and his hands move with an instinctual precision, allowing his oppressively dark gaze to remain fixed to you.
“Strip.”
It’s a rather simple command but it causes a small malfunction in your brain nonetheless.
Your intuition is simultaneously screaming at you to be a ‘good girl’ and listen to Choso so he’d finally fuck you—but also to get the hell away from the menacing man before you were actually fucked.
Choso’s shift in his nature was setting off every internal alarm—although at the same time, you couldn’t say this still didn’t feel like Choso.
Was it really new?
Or was this side just new to you?
You’d only ever really known the gentle boyish side of Choso. The side who would blush easily and that was so willing to do anything to please you—the side that was a dutiful and loving brother.
But this other side?
Well, he was a dealer.
You’d never heard of Choso getting caught out or punked in the streets—not even once.
You also never knew how he conducted his business, as he always stepped out of the car or left the room. When he took a call while you were with him, all you could hear were faint murmurs of conversation over the rumbling bass of music or through a well-insulated door.
You knew he did his best to keep that side away from you and Yuji, as it wasn’t always pretty.
Instantly you recalled how once when you had slept over he reluctantly left in the middle of the night late saying he had ‘business’ to take care of. When he came home hours later he looked worn down and even more tired than usual. His knuckles were swollen and there was a rip with small dots of blood on his collar which you would have thought was his own if not for there not being a single scratch on him.
He didn’t speak of what happened and you couldn’t fuss over his appearance for too long—your mind being far from inquisitive while blubbering from his cock drilling your body deep into the mattress. You blissfully became a fleshlight of relief for all his frustrations that night until long after sunrise.
In fact, Choso had dicked you down so thoroughly when you finally made it out of bed that day it was mid-afternoon. You didn’t even question him about the bruises lingering on his knuckles or whose blood he had on him—still in a daze off his cock.
So this must be how he is in the streets.
“Go on now, princess.”
The deep silky dominance in his tone commanded your attention, jarring you from your thoughts. You’re pouting, but your body, in spite of your more rational mind, wins as it compels you to obey him, convincing you that anything he has planned for you would be well worth the pleasure that follows.
Slowly, you begin to lift up your tiny pink top when Choso’s eyes narrow in disapproval, stopping you.
“Nuh-uh see—that shit right there won't cut it.”
You’re puzzled. You did exactly as he asked.
“You didn’t think I saw my lil’ slut playing beer pong and teasing those shitheads with my tiddies? Now do it for me—the same fuckin’ way.”
You’re nodding but your delicate hands are nevertheless shaking under his intense smolder.
Swallowing your anxiety and mimicking your earlier actions, you bent towards him. Your chest is lightly heaving by the time your nails begin to slowly drag the hem of the sparkly top down over your breasts. Choso is blatantly palming his cock when you give the final tug that has your tits bouncing forth from their confines, fully exposed to him.
Choso hums in approval, satisfied with your performance. He motions with a finger for you to come to him and you can’t close the distance fast enough to stand between his legs.
Molding your hips in his large hands, Choso brings you even closer. Parting his lips the smoke tendrils fan over your stomach while his mouth hovers over your skin.
Choso looks back up at you and your belly dips, quivering at his dangerously seductive eyes and mischievous grin.
You were nervous—good.
“Knees.”
Plug!Choso who has you shamelessly panting on your knees before him. Not caring for any decorum at this point you’re openly salivating as hearts practically dance in your eyes over his engorged cock throbbing inside his jeans.
Choso releases a whiny hiss when the air hits his swollen glands. His length sways weighted down as an embarrassing amount of pre drips off his reddened shaft, his boxers already soiled.
In your right state of mind you might have used this to shift back the power dynamics—yet alas, you are far too gone now. The need for him to give you his praise and approval winning out over any inklings of sass or disobedience.
Your attention is all but zeroed in on how those milky pearls dribbled over his albert piercing and down the thick vein on the underside of his length.
Seeing how your mouth watered just from the sight of his cock, it’s Choso who proves to be the more impatient one as he grips the back of your head with one hand forcing you closer. In his haste, his dick misses your mouth and skids across your cheek, prompting a low growl of curses from Choso.
Unconcerned with his impatience, you’re still in your own world—and that world in question was currently being filled with the carnal smell of Choso’s scent marking your skin. A long stain of pre smearing across your face mind shuts down now solely driven by your needy cunt.
“I’ll forgive you when you show me how sorry you are—”
“—anything!”
Quickly snapping out of your dickmatized daze you look up at him with doe eyes, begging for the go-ahead.
“Yeah? Then do it nasty for me, princess.”
The words have scarcely left Choso’s lips before you’re already parting your own, releasing a viscous well of drool to pour languidly on his dick.
Your saliva mixing with his spilled essence coats his cock and fills the room with vulgar squelches as you obediently pump his hot length. You rotate your grip with a sinful precision while your other hand thumbs his gooch as you’re cupping his balls, kneading them in a manner that had Choso’s toes curling.
Giving thanks for the meal you are about to consume, you never break eye contact as you deliver pillowy kisses to his tip and strum your tongue under his frenulum. Choso’s abs twitch feverishly when the sultry hollow of your mouth lewdly hums over his piercing. The sounding effect alone is nearly enough to make him bust right then.
You aren’t holding up well yourself either as your thighs squeeze together soaking your fishnets which had long been sticky with your overflowing arousal. Manifesting that it soon would be the moist suction of your vacant cunt and not of your spit glossed lips that would take him whole as you continue to moan wantonly around his girth.
The memory alone didn’t do your mouth justice to Choso, not that he still didn’t cum plenty from thinking of your lips slobbering around him in the last month.
Fuck if you didn’t always give some crazy ass head though.
However, he knows he has to keep control lest he loses all the progress he made training that lil’ attitude of yours tonight.
Weaving his muscular hands through your hair, in one swift motion Choso thrusts his hips forward. He groans loudly from your warm gummy throat now stuffed full with his cock. Gargling his girth you choke when Choso’s piercing scrapes the back of your throat as he forcibly bobs your head up and down.
Thick tears burn your vision with your running mascara flowing right down your full cheeks. But it's nothing compared to the fiery burn in your cunt that’s even more jealous than before of your throat getting the treatment it needs so desperately.
“You’re gonna be my good girl from now on? Yeah baby, I know—I know ya are. Now open that throatpussy a lil wider for me, got sum’ for it.”
Heart fluttering at his filthy praises, you easily let him coerce your face flush to his pubic bone to take him to the very hilt. Your nose is buried in his dark pubic hair and his balls slap your chin at every thrust. The harsh treatment has your tears mingling with his fluids to coat your face and stain his jeans.
This is how you should be.
Obedient and pretty while your sobs vibrate around his cock destroying your throat. All you had to do was worry about taking care of him—in turn he would take care of you and the rest.
Shit though, going so long without your bratty little mouth around his dick Choso wasn’t about to last too much longer.
His blunted nails dig into your scalp as he hunches, curling over your body from the sloppy way he plows even deeper into you.
“You’re gonna take all of it princess. Every last bit, understood?”
Choso takes your unintelligible gurgles and the hands shoving against his thighs as confirmation. A needy grunt is followed by jets of his creamy load spurting down your esophagus.
Teeming with adrenaline, you gasp for air. Your lungs are on fire from sputtering up his tangy spunk that somehow even trickled into your windpipes. Choso’s fluids dribble down your chin, a show of proof from you having milked his cock so thoroughly.
But you're not angry with him for the rough treatment—on the contrary.
Once your coughs subside you’re gazing up at Choso like an innocent lamb and not the nasty throat goat you just proved yourself to be. Praying you have been enough of a good girl for him to finally fuck your lil’ cunt as hard as you needed.
Plug!Choso who rewards you with gentle strokes that smooth your hair back and caress your flushed cheeks stained with his spunk.
Keeping true to his promise of every last bit, Choso thumbs the remaining salty fluids soiling your face back into your mouth, dumping the excess onto your tongue that greedily slurps it down.
Satisfied, Choso straightens and beckons you onto his lap with a pat to his thigh. Smirking at your enthusiasm as you clumsily settle in.
“Now doesn’t it feel nice…being a good girl for once?”
Choso affectionately twirls your hair in his fingers and you bob your head eagerly.
Your lips are mere centimeters apart.
You want to kiss him but Choso doesn’t feel like you earned that just yet, balling his fist to tug your locks taunt when you lean in.
“Not yet, baby.”
You stick your lip out, fussing in aroused frustration.
“Tsk—now, now none of that shit, brats don’t get kisses—and they certainly don’t get this dick.”
If the look in his eyes were any indication you knew Choso meant business. The searing eye contact had long incinerated all the walls you’d built to keep him out, exposing the very essence of you laid bare in the ashes.
You have no more defenses against him, becoming more obedient to his every word.
Seconds pass that seem like achingly brutal hours until he breaks the staredown. His sights now follow his hands as they splay out trailing from your collarbone to your breasts, letting them weigh heavy in his palms.
His lecherous scrutiny has you shivering.
“You let anyone touch these?”
The question startles you as does the sensation of Choso rolling your stiffened peaks between his knuckles before giving them a cruel tug.
You sniffle as you shake your head ‘no’, trying not to whine and still unable to speak from him pounding your vocal cords raw.
Choso grins knowingly as his hands fondle your plush mounds, kneading the supple flesh and pushing them together before the steamy cavern of Choso’s mouth consumes both at once. The bar of his pierced tongue swirled between your hardened buds, lapping, slurping and nibbling. Squirming you arch back deeper into his mouth and grind your soaked lil cunny on his rapidly stiffening length. Your hands cling to his pigtails for any semblance of an anchor keeping you from tumbling backwards.
Spurred on by your shuddering cries Choso withdraws from your swollen peaks with a pop and licks up the string of spit that cobwebs between them. His tongue flattens licking each one dutifully as he watches as your jaw slacks from pleasure.
You’ve been so deprived of his touch. You could cum from just a bit more of this.
Yet Choso’s lips don’t stop traveling your body, even higher this time to adorn your decolletage with searing hickies.
Uncaring if they actually showed up to brand your skin or not.
Choso only needs you to feel them bruise beneath your flesh.
That way you wouldn’t so soon forget exactly who you belonged to.
“And what about my bratty lil’ pussy, princess? I know how needy she is. You let one of those frat fuckers inside her?”
His hot heady breaths puff out to curl around your earlobe, leaving the severely neglected spot in between your thighs throbbing at her mention.
You think you might actually die if he ignores your cunt for much longer.
Your thong is utterly drenched. More arousal trickles onto his lap as his muscular hands settle back on your hips.
“N-no!”
Sounding more like a croaked plea, your voice is barely above a whisper from the hoarseness that settled in your throat.
“W-Waited f-for you Cho.”
“Then show me.”
Plug!Choso who has you even more intoxicated off the thought of him giving you a pussy inspection.
He has nearly succeeded in domesticating you and your arms wrap around him submissively as you moan unabashedly into his neck.
Choso muses he should have handled your snobby ass like this sooner and saved himself some trouble.
Lifting you, Choso rises from the bed.
You haven’t realized you’ve moved at all until you crash into the edge of your vanity, shaking the table with a thud. Rattled, you look back, giving Choso the leverage he needs to spin you around. Dizzy from the sudden movement, your arms fly out—scattering bottles of makeup and perfume as you grasp at the wooden tabletop.
The items roll on the floor in tandem with Choso rolling his hips up against you. You release a loud mewl from his hard erection teasingly poking into your ass.
Thinking only with your pussy, your impatient pleas are met with another slap to the ass. The increased weight behind his hand this time leaves your nerve endings sizzling.
You were gonna be such a sweet girl by the time he was done with you.
However, he wouldn’t torture you for too much longer.
Despite his cold authoritarian demeanor, the image of shoveling his cock deep into your creamy cunny after so long of only jerking to the memory has him about to lose it. Grasping the front of your hips, Choso jerks you flush against his pelvis. You fall forward until your cheekbone is smooshed into the vanity’s mirror and his thick bulge molding itself in-between your cheeks
“Stay just like that for me, yeah baby? Hands on the mirror, they better not fuckin’ leave either.”
You position your hands obediently and Choso, as if praising you, tenderly gifts lustful kisses down your spine while he pampers your reddening bottom with gentle caresses.
“Good fuckin’ girl, princess.”
The more feral his nature, the more like his prey you became. Choso licentiously inspects your body—gripping, sniffing, and nipping at your heated skin until he is level with your ass.
You whimper as Choso rips your fishnets ripping them open, admiring the indents on your skin from the jeweled tights before burying his face between your squishy cheeks.
His nose salaciously nuzzles against the soaked material stuck to your barely covered hole and he releases a hot guttural sigh, purring into your pussy.
Always a fiend for dining on your cunt, Choso is brimming with contentment from your juices leaking onto his face. This may have been your punishment but it was also his reward as the taste of your filthy lil plum never failed to drive him wild—often opting to spend most of the night with his face between your hips, he’d still cum plenty times from just thrusting into the air as he let you ride his face.
Licking his lips, Choso’s tongues traces the pattern of your thong and sucks your juices from the saturated fabric. You’re both loudly moaning now—Choso from the saccharine flavor of your cunt and you from the sweet relief of the hot languid strokes of his skillful tongue.
Choso might have lost himself in that moment of finally getting to taste you again. His eyes roll back at how you lewdly leak through your soaked thong.
All for him.
You were still his even after all this time.
However, it's your own hastiness that reminds him your penance is worth more than his own pleasure when your ass wiggles impatiently lowering onto his face when Choso’s tongue piercing starts drawing lazy circles around your sensitive lil pearl.
“C-Cho, n-need you…puh-lease s’not fair—”
Determined to control every sensation he gives to you and holding you in place, Choso scolds you.
“Fair? Nah, know what’s not fair, princess?”
His lips move closer to ghost over your ass causing goosebumps to rise over the warm tender skin.
“You actin like a bitch for a whole fuckin’ month and keeping all this good pussy away from me.”
You shudder when his teeth sink into your jiggly flesh causing you to yelp and rock against the vanity.
You’d get more pleasure when he wanted you to.
Choso would screw that lesson into you soon enough.
“Fuck—the only thing sweet about you is this lil’ pussy. You’re such a brat but she's so honest. Then again—maybe it's your slutty lil’ pussy that’s actually the brat, thinking she runs shit because of how good she is at milking cock, yeah?”
Choso confirms his suspicions upon peeling your soaked thong to the side. Strings of your arousal practically glue the material to your cunt. Not hesitating to make more of a mess of you, he illicitly hawks globes of his spit into your already dripping lil’ hole eagerly winking at him.
“Let’s see what this slutty cunt has to say for herself, hm?”
Choso places a chaste kiss over your entrance before driving two fingers straight in. Your hands leave streaks down the mirror as you perspire, fogging up the glass with your breathy cries.
Speeding up his pace he digs the pads of his fingers into your walls, searching until they run over a spongy hard spot and he has to fight to keep a hand on your lower back to hold you in place.
God you were virgin-tight again.
Before ignoring you, Choso had only ever gone three days without fucking you and even then you’d been crying from his tip just stretching the entrance of your taut lil pussy.
In the past, Choso would have taken his time with you. He knew he needed to work you open more so you wouldn’t be sore tomorrow, and yet his cock throbbed to life again so urgently he couldn't restrain himself for much longer.
That’d be something you’d just have to fucking deal with.
This was all your fault after all.
Plug!Choso who wouldn’t let you deprive him of his pussy for any longer—however, he was still going to make you beg for it.
“Tell me what you want, princess.”
Choso rips the thong clean off your ass cheeks.
Leaving you exposed bare in your fishnets he rises up to lean over you. His moist breath trickles electricity down your spine as his bricked length roughly pipes between your cheeks.
“Nghh…w-want your c-cock…”
“Whose cock—so you know me now, princess?—Choso is that it?”
Choso mocks your voice with the hurtful words you hurled at him during the garden brunch. Gliding his girth to prod over your entrance and miss its mark intentionally.
“Pleeaseee—C-Choso-C-Choso-C-Choso.”
The pleas of his name slur together as your attention solely focuses on how his leaky shaft lathers your already dripping folds in his pre.
“That’s right princess…now tell me who am I to you?”
Choso reaches around to swat at your swollen clit.
You cry out as your body slick with sweat jolts up violently. Choso has to throw more of his weight onto you to keep you from slipping off the vanity entirely.
You could have actually fallen to the floor without noticing as the fuzzy feeling in your brain intensifies, too much is happening all at once. Your intoxicated thoughts swirl in its attempt to work out the finer details of your relationship with Choso—details you likely wouldn't have been able to answer even while completely sober.
Who was Choso to you?
Well, frankly, right now he was technically nothing. You had never previously defined your relationship and hadn’t had any communication at all over the last month until just a few days ago.
Your dealer? Friend? Casual hookup? Situationship?
By and large, it had been your fault that you’d never discussed it. You actively ran from any complicated conversations or pulled away whenever Choso proposed something that would be too close to affirming your status.
You also knew how much Choso liked you, especially from how he’d blush when other parents in Yuji’s class would mistake the two of you for a couple.
You weren’t a couple though—even if you acted like you were behind closed doors.
Even so, you knew how he made you feel when you were with him and knew what you wanted him to be to you now.
That was enough.
Goddamnit.
Your body threatens to explode from the vulnerability of your exposed emotions pricking at your every nerve while you work up the courage to say it.
This admission was somehow even harder than confessing you loved him—which had honestly been relatively easy in comparison as you were so upset you would have done anything at that moment to make him stay.
Face on fire, you clasp your eyes shut—as if not looking at Choso in the mirror means he somehow can’t hear the words that stumble out of you.
“M-My boyfriend!”
Silent tears fall as you fear his reaction, you’ve never been the one to lay your feelings on the line first.
Had you really missed your chance to be with him?
Would he just fuck you and leave after?
Choso remains silent as his hands glide up your sides, feeling you tremble under his touch. He lifts your torso, pulling you to his chest possessively. Choso’s arms encircle you as they weave between your breasts and he licks a stray tear away.
Now you have the most lewd, yet perfectly unhindered, view of his hefty mushroom tip as it quickly slots through your puffed folds to ram into your clit.
The wide grin on his features is evident as your face crumples and pleasurable sobs rupture from you. Choso rests the side of his face against your neck as he takes in your smell, giving you a chaste kiss and savoring how much his body is scenting yours.
“Oh? You asking me out, princess? Well, I’m flattered you finally asked, but that's not exactly the answer I was looking for—”
A feverish chill spreads across your skin and you’re shivering as he locks eyes with you in the mirror.
“—as it’s certainly not what you will be calling me when I’m pushing your kidneys back.”
Choso’s hands lazily roam your body while he continues to sneak his length through your thighs. You unconsciously arch back to rest your nape on his shoulder, allowing him better access to touch you.
So he wasn’t talking about your relationship status after all?!
Still the devious smile on Choso’s face tells you he intentionally misled you with his phrasing nonetheless.
“So—who am I?”
The cocky tone in his voice makes it clear exactly what he wants you to call him—and you’d say it—you just need to work up the nerve first.
Unfortunately for you Choso’s patience for your bratty ass had long since depleted.
“Tch, yo we can stop then if—”
You snapped the moment you felt his hands leave you.
“NO, DADDY!”
“I’ll be a good girl Daddy…s’good. I-I promise puh-leaseee put it in—please—need you, Daddy!”
There was no way in hell Choso would have left without sticking his dick in you but he knew that you were too hard up right now to even dream of calling his bluff.
“That’s right princess. I’m your Daddy. Now show Daddy that arch baby.”
Plug!Choso who smirks into your skin as he tastes you. The sting from a tiny love bite blossoming as he manhandles you back down onto the table’s surface when your already cockdrunk mind doesn’t have you moving fast enough.
“But you’re still actin’ up a lil baby—so you gonna have to put this dick in yourself, got it?”
Choso hums at your dizzy babbles of confirmation, slipping his thumbs over your chubby pussy lips to spread you open. Choso is in awe of how slutty your cunt looked, clenching around nothing but the webs of your own arousal and practically screaming to be busted open wider by his cock.
Catching his tip on your entrance, Choso stalls as he has to chew the inside of his own cheek to resist not thrusting into you completely—you’d do the rest from here.
Choso was just glad you weren't looking in the mirror to see how hard his abs were trembling.
Exhaling shaky breaths, you ease back onto him, gingerly sinking down his length. Your kitten nails fitfully scratch at the table just from the stretch of just getting his wide mushroom tip inside.
SHIIIIT-SHIIIT-SHIIIT—Too much!
You grit your teeth, he’s so big stretching the walls of your cunt to the degree that your walls actually try to push him out when you flex. However, Choso’s hands are digging into your hips to secure you in place. He’s not helping nor hindering you—but he isn’t letting you run any either.
Your knees knock against the vanity, trembling this much and he's only halfway in.
“Come on, princess…”
Choso coos gently as he rubs circles into the small of your back with his thumbs, coaxing you to relax.
The dichotomy between Choso’s treatment erratically switching in severity leaves you reeling. You're on edge with heightened arousal, never sure if his next words or touch would be rough or soothing yet either way it leaves you wanting more of him—anything he’d give, you’d take.
But right now you need him to have a lil mercy on you.
Tears brim your wide eyes as you pout and look at him through the mirror, pleading with him.
“Puh-leaseeee Cho—m’daddy…help me?”
Your pitiful submission has Choso cracking. His need to ruin you after so long winning over his want to delay your pleasure along with everything else.
Sighing, Choso relents.
“You know, I spoil you too much, princess…s’why you’re so rotten now.”
No sooner had he finished speaking did he hastily slam into you. Your wet warmth completely sucks him in whole and wraps around him so sinfully he has to dig his blunted nails deeper into your hips to keep from immediately painting your walls white.
God, he really was so incredibly weak for your perfect lil’ pussy.
Grunting, Choso sets an unrelenting tempo as he continues to rail into your cervix, each bruising thrust was him reminding you of every time you ignored him—pretended you didn’t know him—told people you were just friends—and for making him even love someone as mean and bratty as you in the first place.
Grabbing onto the clothing bunched at your waist for leverage, Choso pistoning his hard length in and out of you felt like he was ripping your guts out along with it.
Gathering together a coherent thought right now was impossible. It’s so good but so intense your body reflexively reaches a hand back, frantically pressing against his abs to slow him.
Choso growls, stilling your hand behind your back while his other springs out to pin your head on the table.
You were blocking his view of how your ass rippled every time he pounds his cock deeper into your cunt.
He just needed you to be good and take it.
And take it you did.
Choso fucks you so hard your vanity table creaks and repeatedly slams into your wall causing the entire room to shake. Your mind goes blank as if his cock controls the very flow of blood in your body. Surging tingling sensations electrifying your veins when the curve of his length knocks his albert piercing so aggressively against your cervix.
Your gooey walls build up so much pressure around his thickness that white spots edge your vision so very close to your nirvana.
“Don’t even think about cumming until I say so my slutty lil’ princess—hold that shit for daddy.”
But there was no way you couldn’t and just as you are at the very edge of your bliss Choso rips it away from you, halting once again to still inside of you.
“Mmmm no please-please-puhleeease let me cum Choso! Please fuck me right Daddy!”
Plug!Choso, who as much as he wants to edge you past your limits, really pulled out because he also needs to calm down. Choso removes his shirt overhead as the heat in the room has skyrocketed to near sweltering.
Even unmoving inside you, your pussy still flexes around him like crazy. You weren’t on birth control so he never came inside you, not even once before. Pulling out normally to release over your stomach, ass or tits and wearing a condom on days it wasn't as safe.
Although he desperately wants to cum inside you, to really mark you as his, could he risk it?
It would be so stupid and so irresponsible, going far beyond any punishment.
You still had a year of school left.
He couldn't knock you up.
Then again you didn't need to go to classes physically—you could take them online.
Pushing his more debased and wicked thoughts aside, ultimately Choso reigns himself in. He didn’t even want to put you in that position. He’d support you regardless, but he’d admittedly die inside if you decided not to have his child.
“S-Shit! C-Cho the door!”
Seeing the sliver of hallway light cast into your dimly lit room, you realize now that you must have forgotten to lock it. This was an old house and your door had the habit of coming open easily from just some minor movement in your room if left unlocked.
Choso fucking you like he hated you was surely enough to knock it loose.
Unfortunately for you though, Choso didn’t give a fuck.
Abruptly snapped out of his perverse breeding fantasies, Choso’s feral eyes, tinged red from his high meet your frantic ones in the mirror.
“No.”
The renewed vigor of his cock plowing through you again strangles any protests, gagging you on them as you feel him back in your throat from the intensity.
“Nah princess, let them all hear how hard you sob on this loser’s cock while he fucks some manners into you.”
And sob you did. It was difficult to do anything else really as him moving inside you again had your body buzzing more than from your actual high.
“It doesn’t matter, cause I am about to fuck you so hard even the walls downstairs start shaking—”
Choso’s heavy balls slap against your clit when he kicks his thrusts up a notch and hitches your leg up on the vanity.
“—n’when they discover us there’s no way they will even want a cockdrunk brat who lets her ‘weirdo burnout stalker’ get her high and fuck her stupid as a president.”
Your mind, clearly ruined by his dick thinks that might not actually be so bad.
“Shit, you tightened up baby, you actually want someone to find us? See how good I slut you out, yeah?”
Honestly, the harder he thrusted inside you the less you cared—about anything.
School.
The sorority.
Your presidency.
None of it made you feel anywhere near as fulfilled as you were right now with Choso’s thick girth ripping through you.
The walls quake even more violently.
The soggy clicking sounds from your soaked cunt almost reach the volume of your crazed screams for him to fuck you even harder.
Choso was so fucking close again, he was beginning to lose reason.
“F-Fuck it—should I cum in you, princess? I’ll even let you cum too this time.”
Your brain on a mission to cum, fucked so smooth by his fat cock, could care less as long as you got to cum too.
Oh fuck, just a lil more and you would—
“—PREZ! Did you get the goods or not? We wanna start roll—”
On her phone texting, Brianna—who is pretty fucked up herself—did not even register that the sex noises came from your room. Thinking Choso had left already and sure you were up here salty about her ‘stealing him away’.
All the color drains from Brianna’s face as she drops her phone as well as her red solo cup filled with spiked seltzer, splashing on her outfit as well as the floor.
Through the mirror's reflection, she can see the pleasurable agony painted all over your face from getting your cheeks clapped into oblivion by the obvious third leg Choso was packing. Your eyes to the ceiling, heaving out wails as your tongue hangs out of your mouth waging with every thrust Choso carves into your guts. The clicking sound of his cock stirring up your tight lil’ pussy echoes throughout your room.
“OH MY GAWD! So it was true? You’re actually fucking him??? OHMYGAWDOGMYGAWD they aren’t going to believe this!”
Cockdrunk and stupified you couldn’t give even a piece of a fuck. Honestly, you wouldn't have even noticed her if Choso didn’t stop again.
No, No, No. You were so sick of being edged! Not after he finally was going to let you cum.
This can’t be happening right now.
You couldn’t take it anymore.
You needed to cum so bad.
Your vision is blurry with moisture caught in your lashes as you push yourself up. Grasping onto the edge of the tabletop you used it as leverage to weakly fuck yourself back onto him, doing the work this time if he wouldn’t.
You wouldn’t let Brianna’s ass of all people prevent you from having the orgasm you’ve been fiending over a fucking month for.
“I jushh w-wanna cum! Pleasssh, wanna-cum-wanna-cum…”
You chant out shamelessly. Your desperate whines stunning both Choso and Brianna.
Candidly, both thought you'd be horrified enough to stop.
Choso especially, as even after everything tonight wouldn’t have been shocked if the mortification of actually being caught had you kicking him out.
“Heh.”
Are you actually choosing him for once?
Choso wasn’t going to let the moment pass without finding out—that’s for fuckin’ sure.
The smack he delivers to your cheeks grab your attention as you bellow out more cries. You’re still pathetically trying to get off with your weakened thrusts back. It wasn’t nearly enough to get you off—but better than the burning that threatens to incinerate you whole if you stopped.
“Hey Princess, I’ll let you cum just lemme know something first, yeah?”
You nod your head longingly, dizzy with need.
“Tell this bitch whose dick is this?”
For the first time that night, you answered without missing a beat.
“M-Mine m’daddy, its m-mine!”
You pant breathlessly, still trying to rock yourself back on him but you aren't quite hitting the spot.
Your eyes lock with Brianna’s through the mirror’s reflection yet you are looking straight through her—your eyes vacant as you could only think of Choso’s cock.
Your cock.
“Nah don’t look at that bitch, look at me princess.”
Not hesitating, your eyes snap over to him.
“Good fucking girl—and whose pussy is this?”
“You–YOU CHOSO! Please Daddy—please it's s’good, I need it! Please fuck me Daddy!”
Choso turns to Briana who is frozen in place—her eyes are wider than saucers—as she realizes she’s lost.
Reaching over you he grabs an ounce bag and tosses it near her hitting the floor by her feet. Brianna hesitates though, causing Choso to growl impatiently.
He’d proved his point, now he wanted this bitch gone.
“Yo Gouda—you a voyeur or somethin’?”
Brianna jumps when Choso addresses her quickly shaking her head ‘no’.
“Then get the fuck up outta here bitch—MOVE!”
In her haste, Brianna slips on the spilled alcohol as she scrambles to quickly snatch up the weed and her alcohol-soaked phone. The door slams shut as she scurries out the door.
Plug!Choso who has lost all desire to punish you. He only wants to be able to see your face twist in pleasure when he finally lets you have your sweet euphoric release.
In a flash, he’s moving you again. Choso swoops you up and tosses you onto the bed, hurriedly making sure the door is locked this time before kicking off his pants and crawling on top of you.
“Shhhh princess, you did so good baby, m’gonna let you cum. Gonna have you creaming so hard on this cock, s’your cock baby—you earned it.”
Choso is slurring his words as he peppers your body with blood buzzing kisses to hush your anguished whimpers while he peels the remaining clothes off your body. Not being sheathed inside you is killing him just as much, yet he longs to touch your silky skin unimpeded against his own.
“Been taking me s’gud baby, c’mere…”
The both of you now bare, Choso wastes no time plunging back into your heated core, your heels digging into his back at the intensity.
Damn—you’re so perfect.
Allowing himself to let go, his mind shatters as Choso melts into your gooey lil’ cunny.
His lips are desperate to find yours and Choso is no longer able to withhold himself from sinking into a pussydrunk state. Uncaring for any more displays of dominance, the kiss you share is hurried and sloppy causing your thoughts to splinter.
Your mind fragments into increasingly smaller pieces of incoherency the more frantic Choso’s kiss becomes. His teeth clash with yours and graze over your swollen lips, unable to control himself as he fitfully bruises your clit from the blunt thrusts of his pelvic bone.
Tears glaze your eyes blinding you from the creamy stickiness at Choso’s hilt that splash between your bodies. The musky fluids flow all over your puffed lil’ pussy to drizzle past his aching balls to puddle on your sheets.
“L-Live with me—with me n’ Yuji—FUHHCKKpussysogood—y-you ain’t gotta be here anymore, princess.”
Choso’s forehead rests against yours and his dick twitches inside of you like crazy from the ridges of his thick engorged cock scraping against every nerve in your cunt.
“Be with us, baby. Be our family. I-I–SHIIIIIT—I love you so-much-so-much.”
All of his bravado strips away and there’s just the soft Choso you knew once again. The one who would do anything for you, the one who made your stomach flip and your heart stop—you didn’t want to go through life anymore without him in yours.
“Y-Yes! I wanna—ah fuhhhh—s’gud l-love you D-Daddy!”
Overwhelmed with emotion for you and knowing he would come soon, Choso reaches a shaky hand between you to roughly smash his palm into your sensitive lil’ bud. The soaked slick from your bodies causes his movements to jerk erratically and your hips involuntarily thrash against him.
Choso screws his eyes shut, your bodies so wet he nearly slips off of you in his single-minded focus to make you cum. He has to be ready to pull out of you as soon as you do or he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from shooting all of his cum in you—yet that’s exactly what your fucked out lil’ pussy wants.
“C-Cum—cum in me Daddy…”
Your voice is barely above a whisper as you almost fade out of consciousness from the sublime shockwaves that erupt over your body as you are nearly at the peak of your climax.
Choso’s hips falter, almost in a more fucked out condition than you. He nearly dumped his entire load into you then but his last sliver of sanity held out.
“SHIIIIIT—P-Princess—Do ya even know what y’er s-saying to me right now?”
Time slows, your hand cups his face staring with conviction as best you could into his dark aubergine eyes as your other weakly directs the palm pressing on your clit to rest on your belly.
“Cum in me Choso—I-I wouldn’t mind having a baby if it's yours.”
Oh fuck…
And with that your knees were by your ears and your ankles dangle off his shoulders.
Sure, you were intoxicated on many substances—his dick included and as much as you may have just been talking shit at this moment Choso doesn’t care anymore.
You’d told him you’d have his baby and it’s all his pussydrunk mind can process.
Like a puppy Choso whimpers his groans keen sharply out of him as his tongue dangles to drip slobber down your neck. He’s reverting back to the sloppy whiny mess you know him to be when hes fucked himself out from treating your drooling hole like a well-loved pocket pussy.
“MHMMM FUCK!”
The knot inside you twists impossibly tighter, straining your nerves until it finally snaps sending shockwaves through you. You lose yourself in nonsensical cries as your worn battered body convulses uncontrollably, creaming around his cock.
If your brain hadn’t shut down at this very moment—only filled with the white noise of your searing orgasm—you might be worried Choso just broke your bed. The creaking fills the room as the sound of metal bending is apparent although neither of you are concerned.
“—s’gonna be OK, mmm-FUCK—m’gonna take care of you, love you—we’ll be a real family then, you, me, yuji—n’our baby!”
You don’t even hear him as you’re on autopilot now. The red streaks your kitten nails scratch across his muscular shoulders urge him on like the squelching sounds of your squirt gushing out of you and wet smacks of his balls colliding with your ass.
Overstimulating your senses, Choso sweeps you up into another all consuming kiss. The mind-numbing aftershocks of your blissful tremors leaves your tongue limp as his mouth hungrily devours yours. When Choso finally releases, his hot seed pumps into your tummy as his body writhes on top of yours.
The mind numbing aftershock of your euphoric release continues as Choso proceed to fuck more and more of his thick ropes of his cum into you. He doesn’t show signs of slowing down but your body on the other hand fades, giving into the comforting gratification of sleep after having your guts rearranged.
“O-one more time, p-princess—pleaseeee.”
Your thankful at that moment you’ve previously told Choso you didn’t mind somnophilia and gave him the free use pass to fuck you while you slept. You rarely actually could even stay asleep with how hard he would end up railing you but there was a first time for everything with your cunt finally content and full after so long your exhaustion drags you into a deep slumber.
Plug!Choso who tightly cuddles you to him as you both sleep. The two of you twisted up like a pretzel in a mess of limbs with you practically smashed between Choso and the wall.
Your XL twin bed clearly wasn't meant to comfortably fit two people like this.
You’re still mostly asleep though, softly groaning as the cheery morning sun pierces through your thin curtains. You move to throw a pillow over your face only to discover you cannot budge.
However, you can't say you weren’t used to waking up like this. Choso was always a hardcore cuddler. You missed the mornings you’d wake overheated and skin to skin. Your legs would find themselves intertwined just like this.
Somehow, Choso would always find a way to fuse the both of your bodies together where every part of him was touching some piece of you.
Typical…
The sleepy thought drifts through your brain, sensing it's still far too early for you to wake up. Wanting to drift back to sleep you burrow your face deeper into his chest, stiffening when your mind does the very opposite and wakes up enough to recall the events of the previous night.
Sobering quickly in the daylight, a sinking feeling begins to suffocate your heart. The now familiar guilt you’ve accumulated over the past month amplifies the hangover etching itself behind your eyes.
You can’t help but panic as the memories from the night before come rushing back.
There was still so much uncertainty.
Having been utterly humbled for the first time in your life you can’t stop the self doubt that questions if he’d even meant everything he said last night—you were both lit as hell.
You’d meant it though.
Your heart seizes at the thought that this might be the last time you’d wake up in his arms. Before you know it you are crying again trembling as you try not to wake Choso up with your silent tears.
You are quiet enough but Choso is also a light sleeper and stirs awake at the small fit you’re having.
“H-Hey, morning princess *yawns*—wait, what's wrong?”
His tired eyes are full of loving concern as Choso cups your face wiping away your tears before bringing you into his chest, tightening his hand on your head.
“Shit, was I too rough on you last night princess? Fuck, I know how much all this shit means to you I—”
You interrupt Choso, you can’t let him beat himself up over you any longer.
“N-No, Cho—”
Sniffling, you break away from his hold just enough to maneuver yourself to meet his tired eyes.
You mentally kick yourself—you hated being such a crybaby now but you couldn't help it. You were left feeling so vulnerable after being stripped of all pretenses the night before—it all just started pouring out of you—
“—d-did you mean it? W-What you said? Cause I—I meant what I said. I-I wanna be with you and Yuji. C-Cook breakfast and f-fall asleep watching movies and go to all his games with you—I’ll never miss another game and—and—”
“Bet.”
Wait…huh?
Even after last night you half-still expect him to be upset with you, you’d still expected you’d have to beg.
You’re left speechless.
“Bet. Let’s pack up your shit then, princess.”
Choso’s bright grin is near blinding to your weary gaze.
“I meant everything I said, I could never lie to you.”
Giving you a tender kiss on your forehead, he forces you to look him in the eyes. Choso takes in all your looks of uncertainty before melting them away, softly cooing affirmations with his lips fluttering over yours. You’re so needy for his touch as you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him even closer.
Not being able to resist your body’s calls for him, you soon find yourself underneath Choso who rubs his morning wood against your core still soaked with his essence from the night before.
Choso smirks down at you, the cockiness back in his voice.
“What I say before? You’re my family—Fuck those bitches and fuck your parents—I got you.”
Plug!Choso, who doesn’t know what time it is but knows he has to go pick up Yuji from his friends soon. He also doesn’t know if he should expect your nosy ass sorority sisters to barge in again. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sinking into your sopping heat once more, never taking his lips off of you.
Unlike the fervor of last night, his strokes are slow. The anger and intensity are gone, but the passion still remains simmering under your skin. Choso is savoring every bit of you as he devours your mewls, drinking them down along with any lingering unsureties.
But, fuck—he doesn't feel like he’ll be able to keep himself from cumming inside you from now on. Not when you’d be living with him and Yuji, acting all domestic like.
Images of a would-be future with you swirl in his mind—you pregnant, giggling at Yuji when he jumps in surprise from feeling the baby kick—your belly growing so large you had to cradle a hand underneath when you adorably waddled from room-to-room—the day of delivery when you both finally get to meet the child you cr—
—MUTHRFUUUUH!
Choso’s eyes roll towards the ceiling as he whines loudly, his whole body is shivering along with his premature release. Buckets of his viscous seed slosh in your womb with every sloppy stutter of his hips, pushing the mass overflow of his cum out of your swollen hole and down the crack of your ass.
Fucking you through his overstimulation, your cries only fuel his intent to impregnate you. The want for the sensual intimacy that slow fucking brings after a reconciliation being overtaken by the intense primal urge to put a baby in your belly.
There was no need for any additional vocalizations of affection when Choso is so adamantly reciprocating your feelings, his creamy cum filling you with promises of his devotion which he fucks even deeper into your womb.
You aren’t able to recall the last time you felt this satisfied. Working so hard to meet everyone else’s standards was exhausting and you didn’t regret your choice.
You had no plans now other than being with Choso.
And contrary to the dread of what you had previously thought deviating off course would be like—it frees you. You love and trust Choso enough to let go of all of it and just let life take you where it would.
You’d be content as long as you have him and Yuji.
Choso knows this yet even so, he is still on a mission to add a fourth to your new little family sooner rather than later.
He knew you were speaking of the future when you said you’d have his kid the night before but—why delay the inevitable?
Choso needed to fill you up at least 2 more times before he’d let you leave this bed—no matter how many of your sorority sisters would walk in—they could watch for all he cares.
Yeah at this rate you’d definitely be pregnant by the start of school next year.
Shit, he’d have to go buy a ring soon.
⋙ how was that? holy hell i think this is the longest fic i've written lol. i wanted to take my time with this because although brat taming isn't hard i still wanted to capture the essence of choso. he can be mean enough to do it he's definitely going to internally struggle a bit and be our whiny feral lil baby gworl at the end lol.
taglist will be in a reblog in the morning. needed to get this out and then go to bed. i might also edit it a bit as well. as some of it wasn't proofed.
reblogs and comments so appreciated, i wanna know what u think, send me asks too!
#✎ᝰ𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉¢σσкѕ#✎ᝰ𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉¢σσкє∂тнαт#choso x reader#choso smut#choso kamo#jjk x reader smut#jjk x reader#jjk college au#jjk x you#jjk smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen#choso x you#choso x black!reader#jjk choso#choso x y/n#choso x thicc reader#choso kamo smut#choso x black reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x black reader#kamo choso#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo x you#jujutsu kaisen choso#plug!choso
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tear you apart
》 mob boss! p.sh x fem. ballerina! reader
》 wc: 3.3k
》 plot: a powerful mob boss becomes dangerously distracted by a captivating ballerina, leading him to abandon an important business deal because of his new obsession. Determined to regain his focus, he confronts her one night after a show, only to find himself even deeper entangled in his desire—and a conflict that could jeopardize everything.
》 content: swan lake ballet, ballerina!reader, mob boss! seonghwa, dom! seonghwa, gloved finger-fucking?? eventual smut
🎧 tear you apart- she wants revenge, sour switchblade- elita, into the woods- bragolin
It was now the final act of the show. Rothbart was defeated, his dark powers broken, and the swan maidens were free at last. In the soft glow of the stage, you and Siegfried danced together, your movements light and delicate, like drifting feathers. Each step felt weightless as you floated through the scene, surrounded by the gentle swell of the orchestra and the dreamy, pearlescent backdrop that bathed everything in a soft, otherworldly light. This was the most serene moment of the entire performance—yet your heart raced wildly in your chest.
Throughout the entire show, a sense of unease gripped you, following your every movement on stage. No matter where you turned or what role you played, you felt his eyes on you, that same piercing, unrelenting gaze that had been following you all season.
Park Seonghwa always sat in the same seat, just a little off-center in the orchestra, ensuring he had the best view of you. Like clockwork, he was here every Saturday night, with his hair slicked back with precision, dressed in a long, black coat that skimmed the floor, and his leather-gloved hands resting motionless on his knees. His eyes followed you all over the stage, studying your every move, every tweak of your brow, his plump lips parted in fascination. His unblinking, stone-cold expression sent shivers down your spine, and yet, you couldn’t deny the intrigue it sparked in you. His observance of you, so focused and ceaseless, made you feel powerful—seen. As if, in his eyes, you were the only ballerina on that stage, the rest of the world fading into irrelevance. You almost looked forward to seeing him in the audience every night, that is, until some whisperings from the other ballerinas during dress rehearsal rattled you.
"A mobster? Really? I thought those only existed in Scorsese movies," one ballerina laughed softly, her eyes darting nervously to the corner where he sometimes lingered after performances.
"It's true!" another whispered eagerly. "He's part of the Park crime family. Remember when they started cracking down on drug trafficking? Then they suddenly dropped all charges. I heard he paid off half the force. And now—well, I hear he’s eyeing the theater as a front for money laundering."
There was more truth to their rumors than they realized. After his father’s sudden departure, Seonghwa had inherited the mantle, becoming the head of the Park family business—a role he’d taken on with cold, unerring resolve. He was trusted to be the new, pragmatic decision-maker, one who wold keep the family business running smoothly. Everything had been going according to plan, right down to choosing an old, run-down theater on the outskirts of town as his next investment.
It was a simple acquisition, one that should have been handled quickly. But one evening, he found himself sitting in the darkened theater, watching intently as you stepped onto the stage in your pearly white tutu, your sculpted legs covered in thick stockings, twirling on your experienced tippy toes, forcing him to wonder how you can move so gracefully while doing something that seemed so painful.
Seonghwa never thought much of performance art; it simply wasn’t his world. His world was dark, brutal, and unforgiving. But from the first graceful movement, and the beautiful melody from the live orchestra, he was captivated with the world of the Swan Lake. You moved with such elegance and emotion that he couldn’t look away, each gesture leaving him more entranced than the last. From that night on, he returned every evening you performed, ignoring his obligations just to see you dance. He became infatuated with the beauty and artistry he hadn’t known could exist.
The original plan was simple: aquire the theater, reshape it into something profitable, and then use the profits to conceal earnings. But now, the thought of disrupting your world was unbearable. Reluctantly, he abandoned the deal, his priorities now twisted by an enchantment he resented.
From that very first performance, you unknowingly unraveled the careful fabric of his plans. Seonghwa found himself slipping away from his duties week after week, drawn back to that same old theater. His associates began to worry, questioning his judgement, but he couldn’t help it. He told himself it was just a curiosity or distraction—anything but the truth. You had enchanted him, woven yourself into his thoughts so deeply that he couldn’t bring himself to go through with the acquisition. Every time he saw you, he was reminded of what he stood to lose.
His associates were quick to notice his shift, whispering about his lack of judgment and uncharacteristic indecision. They urged him to reconsider, to stay grounded—but he felt himself slipping. Trouble was on the horizon; he could sense it. Part of him loathed you for the hold you had over him, for making him slack off from his responsibilities. Yet, night after night, he was drawn back, helpless against the spell you’d cast, unable to break free, and unwilling to let go.
Seonghwa knew he couldn’t keep living like this. His soul was burning hopelessly, and he needed to put out this fire fast.
—
It was quiet now, the theater emptying as the final notes of the orchestra still seemed to hang faintly in the air. You slipped into your dressing room, exhausted yet exhilarated, the glow of the performance still warming you as you changed out of your costume. Carefully, you removed your stage makeup, wiping away the traces of the Swan Queen. The transformation always felt strange, trading feathers and grace for the ordinary routine of going home.
You packed your things slowly, placing each item into your bag with a practiced rhythm, already looking forward to the calm of your apartment. But as you reached for your coat, a prickle of unease returned. It was that lingering feeling, the sensation of being watched, that had haunted you all night.
The silence shattered with a sudden, firm knock on the door, catching you off guard. Your heart raced, and before you could even gather yourself to respond, the door creaked open, slow and deliberate. His face appeared in the dim light, and you caught your breath. It was him.
Seonghwa stepped in just enough for his figure to fill the doorway, his familiar dark coat draping around him like a shadow. His expression was unreadable, the same cold, composed look he always wore, yet his eyes held a strange intensity that made you feel hot.
Your heart pounded as he stood there, with his gaze fixed intently on you. You felt a flicker of fear—a quiet, instinctive warning. Everything about him radiated power, a kind of quiet danger that you couldn’t ignore. Yet, having him so close to you now felt exhilarating, almost like you were waiting for him to knock on your door.
“I hope I’m not intruding,” He apologized, his sharp features now softening in your presence, hoping to disarm you.
“I’m sorry, c-can I help you with something?”
He paced around your small dressing room, his eyes lingering on the little details—your stage makeup scattered across the vanity, the photo frames of other ballerinas lining the walls. Anxiety twisted in your stomach as you watched him, still unsure of why he was here. Then, he turned to you with an unreadable expression, extending his gloved hand. "I just wanted to introduce myself properly," he said, his voice smooth but distant, “Park Seonghwa. I’m from a private equity firm. I know the owner, Hongjoong.” Shakily, you reached out your hand, the leather of his glove feeling cold and unnatural against your skin. You suppressed a shiver as his grip lingered just a second longer than you expected.
“I’m Y/N.”
"Y/N...Congratulations on being this season’s Swan Queen," he continued, his voice low and deliberate. "You’ve done very well. You must be very pleased with yourself."
You managed a quiet thank you, though the words felt strange on your lips, your usual confidence faltering under his watchful gaze. His praise should have flattered you, but instead, it left you feeling oddly exposed, like he saw more than you intended to show.
He released your hand, but the strange, lingering sensation stayed with you, leaving you both captivated and nervous.
Feeling faint, you sat down on your vanity chair. "So, you know Hongjoong?" you asked, searching for some logic behind his sudden presence.
"I do," he replied smoothly, though there was a slight glint in his eye that betrayed him. "We’ve been discussing a potential business venture together."
The truth, however, was a little more complicated. Seonghwa had met Hongjoong only once, barely enough to call him an acquaintance. From the start, Hongjoong hadn’t seemed eager to hand over his only asset to a man of Seonghwa’s reputation, especially not when rumors swirled about his intention to repurpose the theater into something as mundane as a car wash to serve as a front for his family’s business. But Seonghwa knew how to persuade, and when he named his price, Hongjoong’s reluctance began to waver.
That first night, they’d arranged to negotiate the deal, and Seonghwa had come prepared to secure the theater with his usual finesse. But Hongjoong was running late. Growing tired from standing in the lobby all evening, Seonghwa decided to sit in an empty seat during the show only to rest his feet, but your elegant movements captivated him, and made him forget who he was and why he was there.
He stepped closer, closing the distance between you in a way that made the small room feel even smaller. Your breath hitched as his intense gaze softened slightly, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. The air between you felt charged, the warmth of his presence mingling with the lingering cold from his leather gloves.
“But I’m not here to talk about that,” He said, towering over you, “I could actually use your help in something.”
There was something odd yet inticing about his request. What could he, a possible mob boss, want from someone like you?
“And what might that be?” You asked, your throat suddenly feeling dry.
He was so close to you now that you could pick up the warming notes of his cologne— spices, sandalwood, and a hint of citrus. You’d seen his face a thousand times before, always shrouded in the dim lighting of the audience, his expression always stoic and muted. But now, with the light catching the sharp angles of his cheekbones and his plush and perfect lips just inches away from you, he was utterly captivating. You couldn’t look away.
"You see, I have this problem," he said, pacing slowly around you, his voice steady but laced with something unspoken. The air shifted each time he moved, the chill of his absence replaced by an intoxicating warmth as he drew near again.
"A problem?" you echoed, your voice a little breathless, trying to focus as his reflection loomed behind you in the mirror.
"Mm." He stopped directly behind you, lowering his head closer to the nape of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "It’s you," he admitted, his tone dropping into something dangerously intimate.
Your heart skipped a beat. "Me?"
Seonghwa straightened himself, meeting your wide-eyed gaze in the mirror, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smirk. "You’re making it very hard for me to focus on my job," he said. His words were as smooth as they were direct. "And when a man like me gets distracted… it causes complications."
He moved again, standing to your side now, his hand resting lightly on the back of your chair. The closeness was almost unbearable, every nerve in your body hyper-aware of his presence.
"So," he continued, his eyes locking onto yours, "I thought perhaps you could help me resolve this little… issue of mine."
Your mind raced to comprehend the suggestion wrapped in his words. The way he looked at you left no room for misinterpretation, his meaning clear without being crass. You felt a sudden pulse between your legs, forcing you to squeeze your thighs tighter.
"And how exactly would I… help?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Seonghwa tilted his head, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "You’re a clever woman," he said, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your shoulder with deliberate care. "I think you already know."
—
You sat perched on your dressing table, forced to see yourself reflected in the mirror. There was a nervous flutter in your stomach as Seonghwa loomed behind you, his broad shoulders and low eyes making your breath hitch. You watched as he parted your thighs before eagerly ripping at the center seam of your stocking, revealing your glistening cunt to you both. Before you could react, he brought down his gloved hand, tapping on your pulsing clit a few times before pressing down in slow and small circles.
The coldness of the leather made you gasp, your heartbeat spiraling in excitement. You could see your slick coating his fingers, bringing a faint shine to his black gloves.
“Such a fat little pussy,” he breathed into your neck, the sudden warmth making a few hairs stand at your nape. He lightly slapped your cunt again, his mouth watering at your chubby, wet folds. “Didn’t think such a sweet little ballerina had something like this between her legs.”
You couldn’t help but feel vulnerable as you took in your reflection, hardly recognizing the scantily clad woman before you. You pressed your eyes shut as he continued pulling a string of shaky, breathless moans from your lips.
“Let’s see how well this little pussy can take me, hm?” He challenged, refusing to wait for your response before inserting a leathered digit into your wet walls. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, struggling to wrap around the thickness of his glove. Seonghwa chuckled at your tightness.
“Please,” You begged, tightly holding onto his working arm. But the desperation in your voice only egged him on. He thrust in a merciless rhythm, the squelching sounds from your arousal sending blood down to his groin.
“Please what dear? You want more?” Seonghwa grinned devilishly before stuffing in another finger, the sudden stretch sending a mix of pain and pleasure to your core. He worked you open at a brutal pace, soaking in your sweet moans as you gripped onto him tighter.
You were slowly coming undone, your knees quivering and threatening to cave in. You felt his hand grip onto your inner thigh, holding you open as much as possible for him. It was then that you fluttered your eyes open, only to find his gaze already locked onto yours in the mirror. You felt a twist in your stomach like he’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t be doing. You quickly realized that Seonghwa had been watching you in the mirror, his gaze unwavering as he took in every tear tracing your scorned red cheek, the delicate furrow of your brow, and the way your plush, pouty lips let out the softest, most beautiful whines he’d ever heard. Just as enchanting as your expressions were on stage, they were even more alluring here as he ravished you at his will.
His fingers were so much deeper now, hitting you in all the right places, until the tension inside of you snapped and you finally let go all over his gloved fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You sputtered, watching your wetness drip down his gloves. Exhaustion suddenly took over you, forcing your head to fall against his chest.
“I hope you don’t think we’re finished here,” He whispered, his soft, full lips feathering over your ear lobe, “There’s still a lot of things I need you to do.”
—
You were sprawled out over the table now, your top completely discarded, leaving you in just your ripped stockings. Seonghwa liked the stockings you wore on stage. They were so pearly and smooth, and he almost felt bad for ruining them this way. He leaned down and peppered a trail of kisses under your ear, down to your collarbone, lingering over your hardened peaks briefly, before continuing down to your pelvis.
You felt a wave of heat spread over you as he kissed around the outside of your cunt before spreading your lips with his fingers, reuniting you with the coldness of the leather. He dragged his long, warm tongue over your hot slit, groaning once your essence reached his tastebuds.
“You taste just as sweet as you look,” He praised, before wrapping his lips over your swollen clit. He sucked and pulled, swallowing every bit of juice you offered him hungrily.
Your back arched in bliss, your hips rolling as he gleefully lapped away at your cunt. He pressed his strong hands down your inner thighs to keep you still, your puffy pussy now spread completely open for him to devour. He savored every drop of you, like a predator that spent weeks catching its prey.
Seonghwa told himself he’d finally be rid of this infatuation after tonight and return to his duties with no more distractions, but how could he now after seeing you like this? With your body so willing, the sheer afterglow hitting your face and collarbones, the uneasy rise of your chest, and those lustful, messy moans? It all enticed him even further, and he worried he’d never be able to stay away.
Seonghwa was at his peak now, and he couldn’t hold out any longer. He quickly sprang up at his feet, the sounds of his belt unbuckling making your core throb with anticipation. His angry, red tip pressed against your slit, making you gasp at how hot and hard he felt.
Seonghwa pushed himself in slowly, inch by inch until his shaft was completely sucked in by you. He cursed at your tightness and moved his hips slowly, allowing you to adjust to his girth.
“Fuck!” You cried out, curling your toes as he plunged deeper into you. He fucked you hard and rough, determined to take all his anger and frustrations out on you so that he could return to his stoic self. He hated you for throwing him off his game, and he still held onto that hope that he’d finally let go of all his pent up emotions once he finishes fucking your brains out. He just needed to get it out of his system.
You winced at his tight grasp on your hips. His pace was brutal, the sounds of your dressing table rocking against the wall overpowering your desperate screams, yet you refused to open your eyes. You didn’t want to see his face while he thrusted into you with an unspoken vendetta. His gaze alone made you feel even more hot and frazzled.
Suddenly, you felt his hand creep to the back of your head, pulling your head up by a fistful of strands. You took in a sharp breath, the pain of your pulled hair forcing you to open your eyes at last.
“Look at how good you fucking take me,” He grunted, pushing your head down farther to help you get a good look at his cock stretching out your swollen cunt. “ ‘Take me just like a good girl.”
Your face grew hot as you watched yourself take him in, eyes bulging at his thick cock that was decorated with pulsing veins and twitched inside of you so deliciously. So drunk off his cock, you found yourself rambling nonsense as he fucked you into oblivion. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me so good!”
You felt you both were melting into each other, your breathing growing erratic and unsteady until you finally lost your composure.
Seonghwa pulled out of you, spilling himself over your wet cunt as he sucked in a breath, making sure to milk out every last drop of his seed. You couldn’t help but watch as he spread his thick, white cum over your swollen pussy lips, your body twitching from the sensitivity.
When you looked up at him, you found his face flushed as red as yours, his mouth slightly agape, with an expression that caught you off guard. The moody, confident alpha male who had entered your room now seemed unsteady, his composure cracked, leaving him looking utterly broken and confused.
He leaned down, his breath mingling with yours for a fleeting moment before his lips finally pressed against yours. The kiss was seamless, as though the two of you had been meant to move together in this way all along. The warmth of his touch ignited something between you, a spark that quickly became a flame, and a flame that would soon become a raging fire that could never be put out.
Seonghwa's desire for you only intensified in that moment. Whatever his plans had been before tonight, they now felt irrelevant, tangled up in the web of feelings he could no longer suppress. He didn’t know what this meant for his current predicament—how this would complicate everything—but one thing was certain: he wouldn’t be letting you go anytime soon. He’s marked his destiny by letting himself be engulfed in the flames.
#ateez smut#ateez fanfic#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa smut#seonghwa scenarios#park seonghwa smut#park seonghwa#park seonghwa x reader
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Pour it Up
Pairings: Stripclub Owner Sukuna x Stripper F!reader
Summary:- You are a single mother, your baby daddy is not just worthless, he also is actively trying to sabotoge you, so you go out on your own and raise your kid by yourself. Struggling your ass off, a friend of a friend named Toji decides to offer you a hell of a deal, a few hours a night at a strip club to make BANK. While there, you meet the other owner, Sukuna, and the moment he sees you? You annoy him how beautiful you are, how much he wants you, pushing him to insanity. He knows he must have you- no matter whose ass he needs to beat.
Warnings:- reader is a mom, lowkey/highkey Yandere Sukuna behavior (He's obsessed- down bad) recreational drug use, drug dealing Sukuna (the club lowkey a front lol) Mafia ties, EXPLICIT sexual content, fluff/smut AND light angst- violence, some former trauma of reader. This part- SO MUCH SEX, so much whipped Kuna lol Oral sex (Female receiving) fingering, marathon sex, multiple positions, mating press, creampie, cum eating, shower sex, tummy bulge, spitting, dirty talk (Kuna says slut and whore) - WC-6.9k
Based on Stripclub Owner Sukuna - will be six or more parts-I HIGHLY recommend the playlist (At least on the club scenes) That mobster art in the banner is by Sketch B on X- LINK
<<<Part two - Playlist - Masterlist - Part Four>>> (coming Soon)
Part Three
‘You’re getting no sleep tonight’
Sukuna’s big, expensive jacket falls down, pooling at your ankles, before he turns you, unclasping your bra and leaving brutal kisses along your neck, your shoulders, nipping and licking while your head falls to the side, allowing him more access. Your breasts are heaving up and down while his hands slip down your panties, and finally he’s unbuckling your heels.
When he does you’re so ridiculously tiny next to this giant of a man it’s laughable, everyone really is, but the thrill of it just excites you more, as your head falls back to look at him, and your fingers are unbuttoning so fast they shake. He chuckles, “That excited huh?”
“Shush.” Is all you manage, but you are, so curious to the muscle you can feel against you, slipping off his shirt then and biting your lip at how gorgeous his body actually is.
Rippled muscles, tattoos running down his neck to his chest, his abdomen, black lines that just enhance the lines and cuts of his abdomen. Your hands touch his thick chest, well formed pectoral muscles tensing as you trail your fingers down, each rippling abdominal, until you find a line of dark hair under his belly button, and you hear his breath catch.
“Sukuna, you're kind of beautiful.”
“Kinda what now? Did I already lick your lil head dumb?” You laugh softly, shaking your head at him, pressing a kiss on his chest. “Shit…” He moans out, hand enwrapping in your hair.
You expect more taunts or teases, but he’s just watching you intently, sooty pink lashes lowering, as you unzip his pants, sliding them down, and then reach his black boxers and pull the waistband. His thick, heavy cock comes into your view, your pussy is throbbing around literally nothing, picturing just how this will fit.
Precum is smeared along his tip, his piercing, and your eyes shoot up to watch his cheeks dusted pink, you smile just a bit. “Are you blushing, Mr. Sukuna?”
“Blushing? Tch…” He scowls at you now, before you know it you’re swooped up in his arms, as his blushing tip of his cock lines up with your drooling hole, and you’re whining out, pussy soaking him, he feels your heat and damn near cums from rubbing on it. “Pathetic.”
“Hmm?” You mumble.
“You’re pathetic for me, aren’t you?” You just nod weakly, but Sukuna may or may not be talking about himself, he’s pathetic for you.
You’re more than ready from him drinking you up in the car, but you’re so tight, and he’s so thick it’s stupid, those nine inches just barely pressing in as the cool wall is flush on your back, pressing against your shoulder blades, while your front is pressed on Sukuna. You’re trembling as you try to take any of him as all, just the tip has you spasming.
Sukuna thought he could handle you, he thought he’d fuck you so good against this damn wall, slam your cervix as he holds you up against this wall, but the moment he’s inside you? The moment your slick walls suck him in, and your walls are fluttering around just the tip he’s inserted in your sticky, gooey little pussy, the moment your eyes shoot up to his, and your lips part?
Sukuna is ended.
You end him to the point he pauses, used to rough sex and pummeling a pussy, drilling like he’s made for it, instead his breath catches, and he’s resting his forehead on yours for a moment, while you cling to him tightly. He feels your manicured nails pressing into his biceps, your thighs trembling, cunt dripping as you try to take any of him at all.
Your breaths mix, yours is so sweet it intoxicates him, pushing in just a little more, seeing if you can take it, and fuck you try to, but he’s so thick it burns, you can barely cling to him for any sense of reality. You look up at ruby red eyes, your mouth open in a cry as he pulls back, pushing even further in, one hand leaving your ass as he presses you into the wall.
His other hand comes to grip yours, fingers entwining over your head, your hand is engulfed in his huge one, you feel so tiny in his hold, in his arms, wrapped around this thick, veiny cock you’re trying to take. Your breaths come quicker when he holds your hand, when he pauses, when his eyes get lidded, pupils shrunk to pinpoints, making the rubies that are his eyes even more intense.
“Fuck…” Is all he manages, his heart beating in his chest, pounding against the softness of your breasts, as something just clicks, something snaps all at once, swirling his mind, looking at your pretty face, the tears in your eyes. “Too much, brat?” He huffs, trying to act calm, like he’s not losing it for you.
You take a shaky breath, crying out when he presses deeper, you feel him everywhere, his cock so deep inside you, feel him in your tummy, god you feel him in your head. It’s overwhelming, as he clutches your hand so tightly, the things you feel already for this man are far beyond his dick, his hands, his lips, it’s how he’s looking at you, how he’s holding your hand.
You shake your head, reaching one hand to cup his face then, making him feel far too much, so much he swallows, feeling nerves that a man like him shouldn’t, god you make him feel like some high school idiot. If he was a more romantic man he’d write some poems or shit, but he sure wasn’t going that far, but it takes everything to hold in words that are threatening to spill.
Foolish words.
He’s pussy drunk off three thrusts, then by four you’re whining out his name- “Sukuna!” And he’s done for.
He kisses you brutally, hands back on your ass, pounding inside your slick heat as you bite on his neck, making him hiss, your nails scratching at his back when his drooling tip kisses your cervix. “F-fuck… biting me, huh brat?” He manages to huff, and you just whimper, head falling back as he fucks into you more and more, the wet sounds filling his empty penthouse.
He’s maddened by you, how good you feel, as you feel the stretch, feel your pussy trying to accommodate him, and he’s pressing in, rolling his hips just so, pulling back to watch as your face contorted in pleasure. “There you go, cum for me, like a perfect lil’ slut, huh?”
You nod weakly, sniffling as he presses you even closer, you feel the pressure building, as his piercing hits something so good, and you’re tightening around it, screaming out. “Y-yes, yes, I’m gonna- ah!”
“That’s it, f-fuckin’ feel you.” He huffs, strong muscles tensing as you convulse around his cock.
How can he even handle you if in a few thrusts you’re trying to milk his cock for everything!?
“Oh my god, mnh!” He’s pushing off the wall now, carrying you to a sleek leather couch, where he pulls out, cock already dripping precum, mixing with your soaking wet arousal. He turns you and slips a hand to your clit, you’re whining at the loss of his cock, as you drip down his fingers. “Please, back in.”
“So needy already, huh?” He’s needy for you though, as he presses you down, arching your pretty ass up and groaning at the sight. “Fuck, look at that.” He smacks your ass, each cheek bouncing for him, before spreading them, guiding his thick cock back inside.
“Yes, please, please… ah!” You’re shuddering when he’s pulling your hair at the nape of your neck, sinking back in so deep, piercing on his cock hitting just that spot as the tip drags along your walls, and you’re gripping at the couch as he bends you further, arching your ass up for more.
“Feel her, so fuckin’ perfect, pussy is just made f’me, huh?” You nod weakly as he fucks into you, rougher now, acting as if the moment before wasn’t so intimate that he almost cried sliding in for the first time.
Nothing feels as good as you.
You can’t find a coherent word to respond when black painted nails press into your hips, and he’s starting to fuck you, and fuck you harder than you’ve ever had, you’re barely able to take his thickness, his length, as it slams your cervix over and over. You try to catch a breath, drool spilling out of your mouth as heavy balls slap against your clit, as his pelvis smacks your ass over and over.
“Didn’t hear you answer me.” He huffs, smacking an ass cheek now, grinning ferally at your whine, as your pussy clenches him even tighter.
“Wh-what was the q-question?” He’s leaning so his lips press against your ear, tickling you, making your tummy tense as he sinks inside so deep.
“That pussy, is it made f’me?” He asks again, and you nod, earning a gentle slap on the face. “Use those words.”
“Made for you.” Sukuna’s lost in you then, in how good you feel, in your every cry and moan, his own eyes rolling back in the ecstasy that was your slutty, squishy little pussy, before making himself focus, because he can’t miss looking at you like this.
Arched up and perfect, he pauses just a moment, taking a breath as your walls grip him like a vise. “Gripping me so greedy, shit baby.” He mumbles, as you both gasp for a breath.
“Mnh! S’good I- f-fuck, Sukuna…” Sukuna groans out loud, the wet slaps louder and louder as he loses control, loses himself, urged on by how your body shakes, how he sees a little trail of drool right on the side of your jaw, since when did he notice shit like this!?
You’re ruining him with every stroke, all he can think of is making you cum again and again, have you cum so much it makes up for years of you not, and he slams in, rolling his hips again, watching you shudder, thighs shaking as you start gushing around his cock, making a sticky mess. “That’s it, slutty pussy so greedy hmm?”
You weakly nod, as he now feels your aftershocks, gripping two of your wrists together behind your back and fucking you harder, propping your ass up even higher on the arm of it so your legs are just dangling there. He props a knee up even high, hitting some angle that blinds you. “Ah!”
“Gonna fuck every worry outta that pretty lil’ fuckin’ head.” He huffs, bending low over you, wrapping an arm around your waist just to sink impossibly deeper, stuffing as much of his cock in you as he can fit, a creamy ring forming at the base of his cock the more he strokes. “F-feel s’good, fuck… perfect pussy, y’know that?” You shake your head weakly, and he sighs, letting go of your wrists then.
You’re like some little ragdoll to him the way he picks you up, the way he moves you, now slipping his cock out of your pussy and carrying you again, all you can do is cling to his naked body, eyes fluttering in and out of focus. He plops you down on that bed of his, you errantly notice it’s huge, a four post bed that’s covered in black and silky sheets and blankets.
You also notice a sex swing, thinking what the fuck, and you also see some crazy X on the wall, there are whips and all sorts of things, he chuckles as you eye them, cupping your face with his big hands, strong body leaning heavy weight over you. “I’m not using any of this shit on you, brat, stop freaking out.”
“I… it’s okay if you do like that, but I don’t know about-”
“Shh.” He kisses you deeply then, you feel too much, far too fucking much for this man. “Ignore the swing, innocent little thing huh?”
“Not even.” You glare at him, but he’s grinning and shaking his head, watching as he rubs that tip between your swollen folds.
“Having more than enough fun with this soaking little pussy, don’t need anything else right now.”
The insanity of his room melts, as he looks at you, really looks at you, and you drag him down for another kiss, pussy already sore and aching but you want so much more of him, you want everything. When he’s pulling back and smirking, a huge hand on your tummy, you look down and see it, this bulge of his cock.
“F-fuck… look at that, fucking you up, huh brat?” He huffs, slowly moving it, so obscene you’re blushing, then gasping out as he presses your legs up high, folding you in half under him, hitting even deeper now, your hips are bucking back at it, how deep he is, how full you are. “Ah-ah, don’t run now.”
“Too much. Too big.” He’s moaning as he eases your thighs down just a bit, instead hooking one over an elbow.
“Brat can’t take dick huh?”
“Sukuna… y-you’re a-”
“I’m a what baby?” He’s slamming his cock so deep you scream, soaking him further, hands gripping the silken material under you, head falling back as he grips your hips bruisingly.
“You’re too much, mmm.” You whimper out, he laughs softly, leaning over you again, pulling out just to slam his length back in, and then your eyes hit his, and he can’t take how beautiful you are.
“Drooling, huh slutty girl?” He cooes, swiping at your face, you just moan, as he slips his thumb between your lips, you’re slobbering all around it as he fucks faster and faster, slamming and pressing you even deeper into the firm mattress, taking over all of your senses, it’s all Sukuna, when he finally slows, kissing down your throat and biting hard.
“Ah!”
“Mmm, ya taste good everywhere.” He’s groaning as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, as one of your hands entangle in his silky hair, and the other grips the taut muscles of his back. “Feel her squeezing me, fuckin’ milking me, f-fuck…”
“Sukuna, m’gonna cum again, ngh!” You’re whining, so overstimulated, when he uses one elbow to brace himself, the other hand slipping between you as pinches your little clit, you scream so loud your voice is hoarse.
“That’s it, can’t help yourself hmm? Gonna cum again, so easy?”
“For you… easy for…” Your vision goes black as you gasp out for any sort of breath, and he’s rolling his rough finger right on it. “S-sensitive!”
“Cum again, lemme feel her, shit- mmm.” You’re gushing and pulsing, you hear the sounds now, how wet you really are, mixed with his moans as he watches your pretty face while you cum, knowing he could never get tired of the sight. “There you go, good girl.”
You’re lost again, clinging to him and crying tears, he thinks how pretty they look coming down your cheeks as he is getting close, your walls clamping down with the force of your orgasms. “C-can’t take m-more…”
“You can, baby, hah don’t tap out yet.” He’s grinning all insane when he leans over you fully, bodies flush, your legs wrapped around his thick waist, squeezing against him as he slows finally, just a bit, letting you catch a breath, both of your eyes locking again. “Do I gotta get a morning after pill?”
You catch his meaning, blushing furiously, as he slides out slowly, almost to the tip, before shoving back in to get your attention. “Wh-what?”
“Birth control, brat, I’m not pulling out. Wanna paint your pretty insides with all my fuckin cum.” His words are filthy, he’s filthy, but you want it then, crave it, he watches how your eyes glitter, how your lips part, smirking down at you. “Ya want it, don’t you? Me to fill up your slutty pussy hah?”
“Please… no need for… a-after pill, m’on the p-pill, f-fuckkt…” It’s impossible to focus when he’s fucking you harder now again, smirking down as he knows he’d bust in you regardless.
“Gonna fill you up s’fucking good, gonna drip my cum out as you’re dancing, for men who can never fucking have you.” You’re just a mess now, incoherent when he shoves your legs over his shoulders and pummels you, the loud slap slap slap echoing in his slutty, freaky ass room, along with your pathetic little cries.
“Please… cum in me…” Your words are it for him, he’s pressing inside, and you hear it then, that whimper you heard sucking him, as his eyelashes flutter and those muscles tense, a drip of sweat slipping down to the base of his cock as he thrusts in once more so deep, in your damn cervix, and he starts to fill you, flooding you with ropes of his hot cum.
“Oh my f-fucking… feel s-so…” Sukuna’s slamming his lips down on yours, something he just doesn’t do, as he busts inside your slick walls, his cock pulsing more and more of that gooey cum all in you, moaning against your lips. “She’s so greedy, she w-wants every drop, mmm.”
You’re just shaking as he fills you, back lifting off the bed as his arm wraps you, yanking you further down his dripping cock, pumping you so full you feel it in your stomach, you’re clinging to him as he drinks your cries. He’s kissing you over and over, messy, sloppy, desperate as your muscles are spasming, pushing his own cum down his cock with the force.
“Never felt something that good, jesus fuck…” He’s groaning, biting at your lower lip, resting his forehead for a moment and feeling far too intimate, even more intimate than his cum filling your warm pussy.
“Mnh… It’s so much…”
He laughs a bit, breathless, kissing you again before easing back finally, looking at the marks from his teeth, his fingers, his hands all over your pretty body. He exhales, running his fingers down your thighs, watching goosebumps rise, watching you twitch and jerk.
“S-sensitive…”
“Are you now?” You nod barely, as he kisses down your neck, tongue lapping at the little drops of perspiration from your skin as you whimper, and he finally pulls his cock out, looking down at it. “What a mess we made, huh pretty little slut?”
“Mnh, d-did we?” Your room is spinning, and he’s grinning as he pulls back, watching the sloppy, sticky mess pour down his perfect bedding. “Oh! Oh…”
“Yeah oh, you’re cute.” He chuckles at your narrowed eyes, leaning up on your elbows as he fingers at the sticky cum all over your cunt. “She’s so puffy, hah look at this.”
“Sukuna… w-what are you doing!?” He’s shoving your thighs up high, grinning.
“Hold em up.”
“Why!? We just… mnh!” Sukuna is lapping his own cum right out of your pussy, you’re so overstimulated you’re crying, hiccuping as you yank at that pink hair, his huge hands taking over your ass, your thighs as they threaten to close.
“Taste us together, god.” He’s groaning as he laps up and scoops his own cum that’s just pouring out of your hole with that long pink tongue, making his cock that was satiated twitch again with need for you, as your thighs are squishing his head, earning his scowl. “I said, keep em open.”
“C-can’t, what even are you Sukuna?” You whisper breathless, thinking he’s some sort of demon as he’s chuckling against a puffy little cunt, leaning and forcefully shoving your thighs apart.
“Wanna taste us, brat?” He whispers, and you pause your squirming, breasts heaving with the effort it takes to take him.
“Yes.”
He moans, scooping more of his own cum out of your pussy, his taste buds brushing on your walls before he leans up, gripping your chin and putting two fingers to your lips, opening your mouth. Your tongue hangs out as he spits then, all his cum mixing with his saliva as it drips down in a filthy string into your open mouth, your eyes widen at it, your pussy clenching again.
“Swallow, now.” He orders, and you eagerly do, making him moan, saliva still dripping just a bit from his plump lips, which turn up, he now kisses you, swapping his cum between your tongues, and you’re gripping him with your little fingers, whining. “Remember I told you to eat?”
“Y-yes…” You manage, swallowing his salty sweet cum down, lashes lowering as you study his tongue swiping across his tongue so lewd and sexy, just making you ready again.
“You’re really gonna wish you listened.” You blink before he’s got you flipped to your hands and knees, and you feel the piercing tickling your slit, your clit, you whine out at it, head falling forward as your body is shaking.
“Again- already!?”
“How pathetic was that lil’ bitch you were with?” He practically growls then, spreading your ass cheeks and pussy lips open to peer at you, all red and beat up, just making his sticky cock harder. “Never went back to back?”
“What even is that, I- oh my god.” Sukuna’s not just easing in this time, no he’s slid all the way in your entrance, bottoming out and stuffing you full, you cry out, head buried in the blankets, as his thumbs press into the dimples of your back.
“You think once is enough for me? Of this? Of you? Oh, fuck no, need more and more of this.” He’s slamming into your cunt, hitting even more angles as your ass archess, one of his hands sliding up to wrap in your hair, pulling it until your back is curved, and your head falls back. “Can’t get enough of you.”
His words along with his cock fuck every thought out of your head, just like he said, as he has you on your knees, one hand now wrapping your throat, and your head turns to look at him, vision fading in and out.
“Want it?” He asks gruffly, as he squeezes your throat. You nod weakly, and his ruby eyes light up. “Trust me?”
“I do trust you.” You whisper, he pauses for a moment, thinking of more words he’d love to hear, to say, but then he’s sinking into your heat, moaning and laying you on your tummy, prone over you.
“Gonna be all me, huh perfect little whore? All me?” You whimper as he takes you over, hooking one leg across yours and sinking impossibly deep, squeezing your throat, you’re lightheaded, you’re floating. He’s whispering in your ear, “All me, all mine, no one’s gonna fuckin’ touch you.”
You can’t imagine wanting anything else, you’re weak as you nod, as he squeezes your oxygen from your little neck with his big hand, his long fingers, sinking into your pussy so deep you can’t tell where you begin and he ends. It is all him, all Sukuna, as he chokes you, as he fucks you, as he kisses you, moaning as you’re cumming all over his cock again.
“Mnh- f-fuck… can’t help yourself, can you?” He’s gruffly talking shit, but as he feels you tighten again he’s close to cumming all over, he releases your throat, seeing your reddened face, kissing you again all sloppy. Your teeth click, tongues dripping down, while he’s crying out. “Want more inside you? Me to fill you till you can’t even fuckin walk?”
“Please!” Your little cry destroys him, he’s cumming in you like this so fucking intimate, kissing you as he fills your pussy again, pushing his cum up and inside your pussy further.
Sukuna was not kidding about no sleep, despite him not putting you in the sex swing or handcuffing you- yes there is an entire cuffing system for his bed- no, he’s having more than enough fun using your pretty body. Every position, several rounds of cum stuffing in your pussy, until he finally allows you a water break, and you truly can’t stand, he has to hold you up.
He’s laughing as you gulp down water, body shaking still, so weak from how much he’s fucked you, more than maybe you’ve ever fucked in a year in the matter of hours. Your hand is so shaky the water slips off the sides, making him have to take the cup from you, his hand cupping your face, putting the glass to your lips.
“Little brat can’t function?” He hums, you sigh, leaning against him, head on his chest, feeling his thrumming heart beat.
“You’re not human, I’m convinced.” He smirks then.
“We’re just getting started.”
“Huh!?”
“I’m giving you a moment.” He leans forward and bends at the waist, pressing you against the counter, completely naked. You should be insecure or embarrassed, shy maybe, because as a stripper you still had certain things covered, but you really couldn’t care about that, not with him. “Look at this body, fuck…”
“You’re sweet to me.”
“Sweet? You should look at those handprints on your ass.” You giggle a bit, but when he’s kissing you again, you’re melting, feeling so much it makes your throat close up, your heart racing, as you lean up, eager for more. “Let’s clean up.”
“Yes please.” He brushes your hair back, all messy from the amount of times he’s pulled it, buried his face in it, ran his fingers through it. It feels…
“Perfect.”
“Hmm?” You murmur, eyes shutting as he kisses your forehead, far too sweet a gesture for a man like Sukuna, but you’re annoyingly turning him into mush, and he really can’t stand it.
“Said perfect.”
“Me?”
“Yes you, annoying brat.” You giggle, shaking your head. “Don’t make me fuck every insecurity out of you dumb little head.”
“Excuse me? I can’t tell if you’re being sweet or an ass.” He just raises his brows, you shove at him, laughing, then he’s picking you up in his arms, you cling to his neck, breathless.
“Gotta carry you all around and shit, huh? Can’t walk?”
“You like to do it, stop lying.” He hides his smile in your messy hair, as he eases you to sit, starting the shower now, the steam rising around you as soon as you step in, looking at just how luxurious it is, multiple shower heads amongst pretty tan marble tiles, little white ones warmed under your feet when he leads you in. “This shower is nicer than my existence.”
He snorts at that, shaking his head, eying your body covered in forming bruises, feral thinking that everyone will now know you’re his. Even if it hasn’t been explicitly stated yet, he already knows it for the both of you. He feels this annoying ass tenderness for you, as he watches the hot droplets cascading off your sexy, pretty little body, your head falling back, eyes closed in enjoyment.
Soon Sukuna is standing behind you, his hands immediately on your shoulders, rubbing the knots out, making you lean into his touch. “This is heaven.” You murmur, his hands slipping down to your hair, brushing it to the side and leaning low, his lips against your ear.
“Mm, it’s just a shower, brat, I can make you feel way better, hmm?” He says, voice low, his cock hardening again for you, poking at your back thick and hot, but he doesn’t move on it yet, just lets the warm water run over the both of you.
“Better than anything.” You feel yourself leaning more on him, as the water is washing away the sticky mess of your love making, the heat making your skin tingle as his thick cock pulses. Your heat in your tummy starts again, and your nipples perk up, he eyes them, his hands gripping them, eliciting a cry from you, your ass arching more against him.
“Better than anything, huh?”
“Anything.” At your whisper he’s got you turning around, your hands slip up his slick chest to his shoulders, watching the water running down his abs, his cock with that reddened tip fully hard again, and he’s just staring at you with those ruby eyes, gulping at how much you make him feel with those words. “What’s that look, Sukuna?”
“Thinking about everything I’m gonna do to you.” You bite your lower lip, as his hands find purchase at the nip of your waist. “I’m gonna fuck you again, and again, until you can’t even think of anyone else but me.”
“Sukuna, there is no one else I think of.” You whisper, leaning up as he leans down, and you kiss him, deep and sloppy and so desperate, and he groans, grabbing your thighs, hoisting you up so you wrap around his waist.
“Only me in that pretty head, only my cock inside your tight lil’ fucking cunt, huh?” Your legs are shaking as you’re pressed against the slippery tile wall, his possessive words just making you wetter. “Say it.”
“Only you.” Sukuna exhales, his grip is firm on your ass, as he starts to fuck you again, his cock sliding in so easily, because of how much you’ve cum already, how much he’s fucked you, stretched your little pussy out.
The water is hot on your skin, but not as hot as his touch, not as warm as his body, as he whispers filthy things that sound like pretty love confessions. “Perfect little slut, made f’me, hah- made to take my cock, yeah?”
You just nod weakly, feeling his cock hit your g-spot with that piercing again, your nails digging into his shoulders and slipping as the water pummels both of you, burning hot. You’re so sore then, but you crave it, crave more, gasping out, toes curling as he shoves in so deep, rolling his hips and pulling back.
“Look at that pretty face, so fucked out.” He murmurs, watching while he lifts and slams you down on his cock, your eyes roll back, mouth open in an O, he knows you’re close again. “That’s it, pathetic slut can’t help cumming, so cock hungry?”
“Mnh!” You are just too fucked out to answer anymore, when he’s got his hand on your neck, his thumbs pressing gently on your pulse point, tilting your chin up.
“Look at me when you cum all over my cock, brat.” You struggle to focus, then you’re shattering again, so lost in his eyes that you don’t even realize when he’s cumming again, until he’s moaning and kissing you brutally, filling you up so hot all in your tummy. “How many loads- hah- you gonna take?”
“Shh- f-fuck!” You’re riding it out, the orgasm him painting your walls gives you, as you’re kissing down his neck, clinging to him weakly.
“Perfect girl, made to be filled by me. Just me.” You sigh, as he eases out of you, then eases you to stand, legs wobbly. “Just me.”
“Sukuna… you’re insane.” He smirks now, shaking his head.
“You really got no idea.”
After the night, you got absolutely no sleep. Aside from literally passing out on him with his cock in you, he woke you up with a not so gentle smack on your ass, as you were bent over in doggy and fading out. You’d sleepily grumbled until he finally decided to cuddle you in his bed, and fuck you feel so good in his arms.
Too good.
Sukuna’s cock was prodding at your entrance, even as you’re in his dress shirt, and you hiss in pain as he touches it, as his tip presses against you, and he’s toying with your puffy little clit. “Need you again.”
“I c-can’t, Kuna…” You whisper, pathetic and weak, half asleep in this man’s strong arms.
He pauses then. “Kuna? The fuck is that?”
You’re loopy, smiling back at him, eyes lidded and barely open, bare faced and beautiful to him, the moonlight glinting through the window now and illuminating your pretty face. “Issa nickname…”
“Stupid.” He huffs, earning another tired giggle, no drug or liquor could ever feel like being fucked out by Sukuna, you’re sure of it. “You’re cockdrunk, tch.”
“S’your fault, Kuna.” You’re giggling as he scowls, cupping your face, the fan whirling softly above you both as you feel the silk against your skin from him shuffling under the blankets.
“Stop the stupid nickname, brat.” He orders, you shake your head then. “You are a brat, not listening for shit.”
“You love it. Shh.” You kiss him so sweetly, he melts against you, pulling you close as he exhales against your lips, drowning in you. “Can I get jus’ a couple hours, I have my kid tomorrow.” You yawn then, and he pulls back, frowning.
“Can’t you stay tomorrow too? I will pay her more.” You blink sleepily, shaking your head.
“No, too much time… I’ll miss Touma.” You’re fading, and Sukuna feels too goddamn much, as he stares at you, as he thinks of the ripping feeling in his heart at you ever leaving.
Would he have to just move in the damn kid!?
Would you even go for this?
It’s too soon and it’s stupid but he cuddles you then, thinking of stupid, stupid things, a girl that makes him question too much just existing. When you snuggle against him, and he holds you, he wants to keep you here so badly it makes him almost sick, your little sleepy smile as you murmur a stupid nickname.
What have you done to him?
*****
“Ow, ow, ow, ow.” You’re hissing as Sukuna is chuckling at you, while you’re wobbling out to his car, wearing his jacket and your pajamas underneath, your hair insane from falling asleep after the second shower.
Six times he fucked you.
Six times he busted inside you.
Six times!?
That’s not counting the amount of times he had his face buried between your thighs, or the times he was fucking your throat. That was just the amount of loads he’d pumped in your pussy. He’s leaned back in his seat, you get to see one of his cars, some fancy sports thing, that purrs as he starts it, chuckling at you.
“Poor baby can’t take all this dick, can she?”
“Sukuna, that's not fair. Tell me this isn’t normal!?” He pauses then, sighing a bit as he drives.
“No, that much isn’t normal for me either.” He murmurs, before his smirk is back, eyeing your pained expression. “Are you doing okay?”
“No, I am not.” Your tummy rumbles then, and you blush in embarrassment.
“Want food on the way home?”
“No, you don’t have to…”
“Let’s just swing through somewhere.” It feels too comfortable, too perfect, his hand on your thigh as he drives, it feels like you’re all his, truly like you’re meant to be there, and that should scare the shit out of him. But he’s too far gone to be scared of it at all.
“Okay, thank you.” You yawn cutely, melting him despite his cocky, arrogant little attitude he presents. He swings through a breakfast place soon, and you lean forward. “Um, Touma likes french toast.”
“What about you, brat?”
“Me… um… in a second.” You’re rattling off things for your kid, irritating him since your tummy is clearly growling again.
“And for you?” He asks again, scowling now, you giggle a bit.
“Protein for recovery needed. Egg and sausage?”
He rolls his eyes, ordering it, slapping at your hand when it goes to your purse. “The fuck are you doing?”
“Kuna, it’s for my kid too.” He frowns once more, smacking your hand again, like you’re some little kid touching what you shouldn’t.
“Don’t call me Kuna, shit. Also, hell no, I’ll pay, it’s literally nothing.” You ease back a bit, as he hands you the bags and drink holder, smiling at him. “Stop that, it’s nothing.”
“It’s sweet. Really sweet.” You tear up a bit by the time you’re home, earning a further look of confusion on his face.
“Don’t cry over some cheap breakfast, shit.”
“No you’re just… Sukuna it’s been all me, everything, just this one little thing… it was sweet.” You murmur, eyes glimmering, and he realizes then, just what you must have been through, at least some of it, if this meant anything to you at all.
“Well, just… just let me do shit for you all the time, then. Stop bitching about it.” He says with narrowed eyes, and you giggle just a bit, the sound tightening his chest far too much when you lean forward, little hand brushing against his jaw as you lean forward.
“Last night was… there are no words. I hope um, it wasn’t once?” You whisper, and Sukuna drags you against him right in front of your house, one hand pressed on your waist as he looks at you.
“I did fuck your brains out, if you think that’s all I want. The fuck? You think I don’t want you every day and night.” You exhale in relief, kissing him then, so sweetly he should make it rough, right? He should grip a titty, your ass, bite your lip, anything but kiss back just as tenderly, inhaling the sweet scent of you filling the car, mixing with the breakfast sitting in your lap.
“Even if it’s just um… sex. I’ll do it, Kuna. I feel so good with you.” He should rejoice in this, a man who just wants that, wants it easy in life, but his jaw clenches when he cups your face.
“I fucked every braincell out.” You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s not… tch, not all I… y’know get out, brat. Annoying.”
You smile at him, knowing what he means as his jaw clenches, pressing a kiss on the cleft of his chin, then nuzzling your nose against his, far too sweet, far too cute, destroying him with every precious moment. Making him a little bitch, soon he’d be ordering fruity drinks like goddamn Gojo, what you do to him, with your cheeks and eyes all bright, your smile.
God, your smile.
He sees then, behind you, a little boy, he looks just like you, along with a blue haired girl, standing on your front porch. You turn your face then, smiling so pretty his stupid heart hurts. “I should go now, will I see you at work tonight?”
“Of course you will.” He says, voice husky, as he leans to un-seatbelt you, curiously looking out again.
Would he ever meet your kid?
Would you all ever really… get that far?
What would Sukuna even say to a damn kid? It’s not like he has been around any, or had thoughts of having his own, but he wants every part of you, and if this is the biggest, he suddenly feels the need to know about it. “You love that kid huh?”
“More than anything. But… someone is occupying my heart kind of fast.” Your breathy whisper is met with his widened ruby eyes, when you kiss him once more, smiling sweetly. “I’ll see you tonight, Kuna.”
“Tch.” Is all you get, but Sukuna watches, as you pick up your little boy in your arms, grinning happily, and your kid is smacking kisses on your cheek, melting him more than he’ll admit when he drives off, missing you already.
You miss him the moment he drives off, sighing happily at Touma then, who is squeezing your neck so tight. “Mama, I had so much fun!”
“Did you!?”
“So much! Miwa made cookies!”
“I saw! I’ve got french toast.”
Touma’s eyes light up. “Yum!” Then when you’re inside, arranging breakfast after Miwa leaves, he tugs at your hair.
“What is it, baby?” You ask, leaning down as he’s got one hand clamped around a french toast stick.
“Mama looks happy.” Your lips tremble at his assessment, eyes tearing up at his next words. “Mama doesn’t smile a lot.”
“I’m so sorry, Touma. Mama gets tired, but you always make me happy.” You’re crying now, as he touches you with sticky french toast fingers, cinnamon brushing across your cheek.
“No mama, I’m happy. You smile. Pretty.” You grin now, and Touma grins. “Pretty, mama is pretty.”
“And you’re the most handsome boy.” You pull him against you, the love in your heart filling you completely, as you kiss his soft hair. “Touma you always make me happy, even if I don’t show it. Mama gets a little stressed out.”
“S’okay mama.” You kiss his forehead sweetly, then he’s off to playing when you clean up, thinking of Sukuna.
He made you smile.
He makes you feel so good.
Sure, physically, but how his hands entwined with yours? How he looked at you? You don’t know if he’ll get serious, but everything in you craves more of him, to know more of him, than just the physical. Both of you still know so little, but it’s like he’s given this brightness in a dark world, where Touma was all you had for that, but you realize your stress and sadness affected him even.
You absolutely nap with Touma in his little toddler bed, snoring and cuddling, because honestly Sukuna has worn you out. Your phone keeps going off after a couple hours, and Touma hands it to you, smacking on your face to wake you up. “Mama, it’s daddy.”
Your heart stops then, pounding in your chest as you take the phone, holding it to your ear. “What?” You say tersely, earning Naoya’s chuckle.
“I’m outside, sweetheart, wanna let me in?”
This chap absolutely was smut filled, reader needed this okay!?!? The next we will be getting back into the plot- clearly Naoya is here. I planned on six parts but it may go longer bc there's a lot I need to do lol. I hope to hear what you think <3
Taglist #1 @naammiii @naina326 @1worm1 @yenayaps @shokosbunny @sukubusss @msniks @kittyyyyykats @nyxly1412 @trashsuarecan @dumbbunny98 @monster-effer @tojis-ball-sack @tangsakura @friesnkwtchup @uhnosav @lhhlver @attackonnat @moonchhu @mat-mat-mat @cherryjain17 @havkjhdecs @stargirl-mayaa @waterfal-ling @the-dark-creature @lulunx @saitamaswifey @spacefae-x @deitysdream @sorahatake @gojoscumslut @stainednailpolishremover @kidd3ath @clp-84 @rinkomei @catastayy @oneirataxiaa @inthedarkshadows000 @travistheaussie @cold-blooded-girls @emi311 @blublublubby @fluttershyfangs @actuallynarii @7thsthings @ilovemeni @erluu @for-hearthand-home @angellliqua
(rest in reblogsss)
Buy me a glass of wine🍷 - Gen Masterlist
#sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader#sukuna x female reader#sukuna x fem!reader#strip club owner sukuna#sukuna ryomen smut#jujustu kaisen#divider by cafekitsune#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna x reader#yandere sukuna#soft yandere#whipped jjk men
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P: Situationship!Heeseung X Fem!Reader (recommended age 18+)
Warnings: Situationship, Hurt/Comfort, Suggestive Content, Tension, Flirting, Mature Content, Pursuing, Possessive & Needy Behaviour, Jealousy if you squint, Alcohol Consumption, Mentioned Drug Use.
Wordcount: 22k
Synopsis: For years, Lee Heeseung had been in your life—never close enough to be a friend but too familiar to be a stranger. You told yourself you weren’t interested, that he didn’t matter to you. But Heeseung had other plans cause he made it his mission to claim your attention—and eventually your heart. But love is never easy.
a/n: was watching the iconic Kuch Kuch Hota Hai when this idea came! (dont ask how) i also wanted to try something new with the title. (disclaimer! some of the scenes are written from experience)
now playing: truth or dare by tyla | friends by chase atlantic | awkward by sza | bloodline by ariana grande | twenty nights by nobu woods | gi faen by ballinciaga
School hierarchy never interested you—peaking in high school, the whole "king of the cafeteria" nonsense. Why would it? None of that mattered after graduation. You always thought it was a waste of time, all those petty dramas and desperate attempts to be remembered as something more than ordinary.
And yet, somehow, you were known, not because you clamored for attention or played into the social games everyone else seemed obsessed with, but because...well, you were you. Quiet, maybe. Not invisible, though. People knew your name, knew your face, even if you couldn’t recall theirs at times. Maybe it was the way you never fumbled over your words when teachers called on you or the way your presence seemed calm. You didn’t try to stand out, but you were noticed, even if you never asked for it.
Made you wonder what made you noticed.
And that question was solved pretty quickly, to be honest. All because you knew Heeseung since you were young.
And Heeseung? Heeseung was everything you’d expect from someone at the top of the high school food chain. Popular, effortlessly so. Basketball captain, the school’s golden boy, practically born to be the main character in someone’s coming-of-age movie. But beyond all that, he was still totally derpy—the same kid who used to trip over his own feet at recess, the one who cried when you beat him in hide-and-seek because he hid in the most obvious spot.
He hadn’t changed much, really. Sure, he had a little more swagger now, a charm that made people laugh at his terrible jokes instead of groan, but to you, he was just Heeseung.
You’d laugh every time someone brought him up to you, trying to see if you’d spill some secret about what he was like outside of the spotlight. “You’re friends with Heeseung, right?” they’d say, voices dipping into curiosity or jealousy. And you’d shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal. Because to you, it wasn’t.
But somehow, knowing him—having that tether to someone like him—had put you on the radar, too. Even if you weren’t part of his crowd, even if you didn’t sit with him at lunch or go to the parties he got dragged to, people noticed you because he noticed you.
And that was the funny thing, wasn’t it? You never cared about being seen, but Heeseung never stopped looking for you in a room.
You were never really interested in initiating anything with him, even if he was very much 100% interested in initiating something with you.
He’d find you in the hallways, leaning casually against the wall, as if it was second nature for him to cage you in, corner you with a smile that made everything around you feel like it had slowed down. He’d ask you about your day, always interested in the little details you never thought anyone would care about. “Are you busy some day?” he’d ask, eyes sparkling, as if he was hinting at something more—something he probably expected you to say yes to.
Other times, he’d slide into the seat next to you in class, talking about his upcoming game like it was an invitation in itself. “You should come watch,” he'd say with that grin, the one that could melt anyone into agreeing. "I’ll even give you my jersey after I win.”
And then there were the parties—he’d invite you to those too, always the center of attention but always making sure you knew you were welcome. Sometimes he’d just come right up to you, all charm and boldness, flirting with you shamelessly, leaning in so close you could feel his breath on your skin. His presence was so intense, so overwhelming, that you couldn’t help but get those butterflies in your stomach, no matter how much you wanted to stay calm.
And yet, despite all of it—the smiles, the promises, the hints of something more—you rejected his advances.
Every. Single. One.
You couldn’t let yourself get caught up in it. You wouldn’t. Even if every part of you, every part of your mind and heart, screamed to take a chance, to let yourself fall into whatever Heeseung was offering, you pushed him away.
Mostly because you knew what type of person he was now. You saw how he was with other women in school, how effortlessly he had them wrapped around his finger, how they would come to him at the snap of his finger, eyes wide and eager for whatever he had to offer. They were drawn to him like moths to a flame, following him like he was the sun and they were planets orbiting around him. And, honestly, it was hard not to see the way his charm worked, how his attention seemed to shift from one girl to the next as if it was all just a game.
A game that you weren’t interested in playing.
You weren’t just going to be another face in the crowd, another person who would fall for his flirtations, get swept up in the thrill of his attention only to be tossed aside when someone else caught his eye. You were different. You had to be.
Heeseung was the type who could have anyone, but you weren’t just anyone. You were stronger than that, smarter than that. You didn’t need to be one of his many admirers to feel valued.
So, you kept saying no, keeping a distance, watching the way he’d grin like it was no big deal, then go off to let his attention drift somewhere else. And deep down, you knew you weren’t immune to it. Maybe you never would be. But the answer stayed the same.
That didn’t mean Heeseung didn’t stop going after you.
If anything, it seemed like the more you pulled away, the harder he tried. You'd find him lingering around your classes, catching you in the hallways, or showing up in places where you didn’t expect him to be. It was like a game to him, though you weren't sure if he knew it was to you. Maybe he thought he could win you over if he tried hard enough, if he kept being persistent, kept flashing that grin and throwing out just enough charm to keep you on the edge of saying yes.
He’d joke with you, pretending to be playful, leaning in with a wink like you were both in on some shared secret no one else understood. But you knew better. You could see through the act, see the way his eyes would light up when he thought he was getting close. It was almost like a challenge to him now, something he couldn’t let go of.
But you kept saying no.
And he kept coming back for more.
You would think that someone like him would give up after rejection, after rejection. But nooooo.
If anything, Heeseung only seemed more determined with each "no" you threw at him. You’d catch him looking at you with amusement, as if he were trying to figure you out, like you were some puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. You could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, plotting his next move. It wasn’t just persistence—it was obsession in its own strange way.
He’d show up at your locker with an extra wide grin, as if all the past rejections were just another small obstacle, one he was determined to overcome. He’d ask about your plans for the weekend, your favorite movie, your favorite ice cream flavor—all these little things that seemed innocent enough but were clearly his way of getting closer to you, of worming his way in until you couldn’t say no anymore. And each time, you’d refuse, hold firm.
It was like a tug-of-war, except you were the one refusing to be pulled.
And yet, he never stopped to one point that there was a part of you that wondered, almost begrudgingly, if anyone had ever resisted him like this before. You could almost hear the chuckles of his friends in the background, no doubt betting on how long it would take before you gave in.
It did kind of surprise you when, one day, you were walking down the hallway, busy trying to find your gum in your bag, when you accidentally overheard a girl confessing to Heeseung. You stopped, pausing mid-step as you heard her voice, trembling with nerves, pouring out her feelings to him.
You looked down the hallway you were passing, and there he was, standing with his back to you, his attention fully on the girl in front of him. She was shy, her words stumbling over each other, her face flushed as she nervously admitted what everyone probably already knew. She liked him. She wanted him.
But what he did next was something you did not expect at all.
He rejected her.
The words hit you before you could even process them. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice calm but firm. "But there’s someone else I’m interested in. Someone I want." He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even seem to waver. He was polite, but his words were clear and final.
The girl stood frozen for a moment, looking down, clearly embarrassed. You could see the brief flicker of pain on her face, but she nodded and walked away quickly, her head down.
You felt an unexpected sting in your chest, a strange mix of confusion and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You couldn’t decide if it was relief or disappointment or... something else.
And as Heeseung turned around, casually adjusting his jacket, you quickly stepped into a side hallway, out of sight, your heart beating a little too fast for comfort. You had never expected to see something like that, especially not from him. Never from him. And it made you wonder, question everything you thought you knew about him.
Because after that moment, it seemed like he rejected girl after girl, all while still pursuing you with that same relentless determination. It was strange. You would never catch him kissing other women anymore, never saw pictures on social media of him with a girl on his lap at parties, never heard whispers of him flirting with anyone else. It was like the world around him had faded, and the only focus, the only person who mattered, was you.
No one else but you.
It made you question everything. Was he really serious about you? Or was this just some strange game he was playing, a challenge to see if he could win you over when everyone else had fallen for his charm? Or was it something more than the surface-level attention he gave everyone else? You tried to shake the thoughts from your mind, tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered when you realized you were the only one he seemed to want.
But the more you thought about it, the more it made you uneasy. Did you trust him? Or were you walking into a trap?
If it was a trap, it was a pretty good one, because something changed between the dynamic of you and Heeseung. You grew more compliant, more willing to give him a little piece of your attention, a little more of your time. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make him shift gears. Heeseung, who had always been so confident, so certain, now seemed a little more desperate, a little more eager to make you notice him, to make you smile.
He’d go out of his way to do the smallest things just to get a reaction from you—whether it was showing up with your favorite drink, offering to carry your bag when you were weighed down with books, or trying to impress you with his random trivia knowledge that he knew you secretly found endearing. His usual cool composure was slipping, and in its place was a version of him you hadn’t seen since you were young.
And frankly, it was kinda cute.
It was like he was a little boy again, trying so hard to win your approval, doing whatever he could to get you to look his way, to see him the way he wanted you to.
You expected to play a little around with his attention, to enjoy the way he’d chase you, all while ignoring the stares you got from other girls. It wasn’t anything serious, just a game, a harmless little back-and-forth that didn’t have to mean anything. You didn’t expect it to go anywhere—after all, this was Heeseung, the golden boy who had his pick of anyone. He was just... fun to be around, right?
But how were you supposed to know that one measly party—just one event—would change everything?
It wasn’t even a big deal at first. Just a typical Friday night, with music blasting, lights flashing, and everyone packed together in some house that barely fit the crowd. You had told yourself you’d just go for a bit, maybe chat with some friends, and leave before things got too chaotic.
When you arrived, you decided to go get a drink first, something to ease your nerves. You weren’t exactly the type to jump into a party scene, so you figured a little liquid courage wouldn’t hurt. You made your way to the kitchen, and scanned the counter for something that would do the trick. You found a bottle of something strong, poured yourself a generous amount, and started nursing it as you made your way through the house, trying to find a familiar face in the crowd.
The music was louder now, almost deafening, and the air smelled like a mix of cheap cologne, sweat, and the faint scent of pizza. The people around you were lost in their own little worlds—laughing, dancing, talking—but you were searching for someone you knew.
Your search didn’t take long before you spotted a group of people you knew—friends from class, a few people you’d hung out with before. You made your way toward them, grateful for the distraction, and they welcomed you with smiles and waves. You could feel the tension in your body start to loosen as you joined in, taking a sip from your drink and laughing along with their jokes.
You stayed with them for a while, catching up on small talk, sipping your drink more leisurely. The conversation shifted from one topic to another—school, upcoming plans, random gossip about who was dating who—until eventually, the music started pulling everyone onto the dance floor. You found yourself swept along with the crowd, the beat of the song pounding through the floor and vibrating up your spine as you moved with the rhythm, the alcohol in your system giving you a little extra confidence.
It was fun, for a while. You lost yourself in the music, and you could feel the tension slip away with each step you took, each beat you moved to, until everything felt… easy.
Then, suddenly, you felt strong arms around your waist, pulling you close, a warmth pressing against your back. It took a split second for the reality to sink in, but you already knew who it was based on the familiar scent of cologne that filled your senses. You didn’t have to look to be sure, but you turned your head anyway, and as expected, there he was.
Heeseung.
He was right behind you, holding you effortlessly, his grip strong yet gentle as he matched the rhythm of the music with you. His chest pressed against your back, making your breath catch for a moment.
You could feel his chin rest lightly on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin, and despite every part of you telling yourself to pull away, to keep the distance you’d worked so hard to maintain, something inside you didn’t want to.
For a brief moment, you forgot to question it all. You forgot the reasons you kept pushing him away, the doubts you had about what he truly wanted.
And when he leaned close, his voice low and steady, you felt your resolve begin to crumble as his lips just brushed your ear. "You look so good," he murmured, the sound of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "Dancing like that, looking so tempting."
The words were playful, but there was something in the tone that made it clear he wasn’t just joking. You could feel the weight of his gaze on the back of your neck.
For a moment, you felt dizzy—not just from the alcohol, but from his proximity, the way he had you caught in his orbit, unwilling to let go.
"You’re driving me crazy," he whispered, his grip on your waist tightening just slightly as if to remind you of how close he was. The teasing had a bite now and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was testing you, seeing how far he could push.
And God did he push.
Heeseung’s fingers brushed lightly against your waist, sending a ripple of heat through you. "You know," he said, his tone softer now, almost a whisper, "you’re not making it easy for me to behave tonight."
You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to his every move, every word. But it was useless—he was too close, too overwhelming, and you couldn’t think straight.
When you finally found your voice, it came out quieter than you intended. "Maybe you’ve had a little too much to drink, Heeseung," you said, hoping to inject some distance, even though your own voice betrayed how unsteady you felt.
He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your back. "Maybe," he admitted, and you could hear the smirk in his tone. "But don’t act like you’re not enjoying this."
You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze was locked on you, dark and intense.
"I’m not—" you started, but the words caught in your throat as he leaned in even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.
"You’re not what?" he murmured, his voice low and coaxing, daring you to finish your sentence.
You hated how your body betrayed you, how your heart raced, how you couldn’t seem to pull away, even though every logical part of your brain screamed at you to step back. But the warmth of his arms and the way he looked at you as if you were the only person in the room—it was all too much.
For once, you let yourself linger, not pulling away from his hold, not giving him the usual pushback. He noticed immediately, his smirk growing as if he had won some unspoken game between you two.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Heeseung said, his tone teasing but soft. His fingers traced small circles against your hip, his other hand resting lightly at your waist. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I’m just too tired to deal with your nonsense.”
“Oh, nonsense, huh?” he said with a mock-wounded expression, leaning closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to your skin. “Careful, or you might hurt my feelings.”
“I think you’ll survive,” you shot back, tilting your head to glance at him. But the way his gaze locked onto yours made your breath hitch.
He laughed, the sound low and warm, as he kept still. “You’re enjoying this,” he murmured, the words brushing against your ear. “Admit it.”
You didn’t respond right away, instead letting the music carry you both. There was something about this that felt different tonight. Maybe it was the way he wasn’t pushing too hard, wasn’t making this feel like a game. Or maybe it was just the way you let yourself relax for once, let yourself enjoy his attention without overthinking it.
“And if I am?” you said finally, your voice quieter than you intended, but steady enough to hold his gaze.
Heeseung’s grin widened, his confidence shining through. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep doing whatever I’m doing,” he said, his voice full of promise.
You scoffed lightly, shaking your head, trying to brush him off, but he wasn’t having it. “Oh, don’t act so tough,” he teased, “I know I’m getting to you.”
You rolled your eyes, stepping back just enough to put some space between you, but Heeseung wasn’t letting you off the hook that easily. He followed, closing the gap again, his movements unhurried. “Running away already?” he said, his tone mockingly hurt.
“I’m not running,” you shot back, crossing your arms in front of you, though the small smile threatening to form on your lips betrayed you.
“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly not convinced. He reached out, gently tugging at one of your hands, his pouty expression exaggerated to the point of being ridiculous. “Don’t be mean, baby. I was just starting to enjoy myself.”
You let out a laugh despite yourself, shaking your head again. “I’m not your baby , you know that right?”
“But here you are,” he replied smoothly, the grin returning to his lips. “Still talking to me, still letting me hold you like I belong to you. Makes me think you don’t hate this as much as you pretend.”
You wanted to argue, to push him away again, but before you could, Heeseung pulled you closer once more. “Tell me to stop,” he said quietly, “if you really want me to stop, I will.”
The words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say, but you didn’t want him to stop. You couldn’t say it either. And he noticed.
Instead of gloating, though, his grin softened into an almost shy smile. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his hand squeezing yours gently before letting it go, as if to remind you that you were the one in control, even if it didn’t feel like it right now.
“Don’t think this means I’m giving in,” you said, trying to regain some ground, but the way he was looking at you made it hard to sound convincing.
“Sure, sure,” he replied, his smirk returning. “But I’ll take it as a win anyway.”
You rolled your eyes at him, a playful smirk curling on your lips. Leaning in just enough so only he could hear, you whispered, your voice teasing, “Maybe you should work a little harder if you want to win me over pretty boy.”
Before he could respond, you pulled back and walked off toward the kitchen, swaying your hips just enough to make a point and you felt a surge of satisfaction when you glanced over your shoulder.
Heeseung stood frozen in place, his expression both shocked and in disbelief. His mouth hung open slightly, his eyes wide as he processed your words and the sudden shift. For once, it seemed like you had left him speechless—a rarity that made your grin widen.
You turned back around, hiding your amusement as you reached the kitchen and poured yourself another drink.
A few seconds passed, and you felt it—the unmistakable weight of his gaze burning into your back. Heeseung wasn’t one to give up easily, and you knew you’d just ignited a fire in him. It wasn’t a question of if he’d come after you, but when.
You took a sip of your drink, savoring the moment, and braced yourself for whatever Heeseung was planning. You barely had any time to react before you felt Heeseung’s presence behind you. His body pressed against your back, his warmth seeping through your clothes as his arms caged you in on either side of the counter. His hands gripped the edge, locking you in place.
A low, frustrated groan escaped his lips, brushing against your ear and sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re really going to do me like that?” he murmured, his voice laced with mock pain.
You tilted your head slightly, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, unable to keep the grin from spreading across your face. “Do you like what?” you asked innocently, swirling your drink in your hand as if you weren’t trapped.
Heeseung chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that made your stomach flip. “Walking away like that,” he said, leaning in closer until his lips almost brushed the curve of your jaw. “Whispering things you know are going to drive me crazy, and then just leaving me standing there like an idiot.”
You giggled as you leaned back slightly, your head resting against his shoulder. “You looked cute like that,” you teased, your tone dripping with playful defiance. “Maybe I should do it more often.”
“Cute?” he echoed, his voice dropping an octave as his grip on the counter tightened. “I’ll show you cute.”
Before you could respond, Heeseung’s lips were so close to your ear that you could feel the heat of his breath. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he said, his tone softer now, though still playful. “But it’s fine. I like trouble.”
You couldn’t help but laugh again, your shoulders shaking slightly as you set your drink down on the counter. “You’re so dramatic, Heeseung,” you said, turning your head just enough to meet his gaze.
Heeseung’s eyes locked onto yours, the grin on his face softening into something more tempting. “Dramatic, huh?” he murmured, “maybe. But you can’t tell me you don’t like it.”
You opened your mouth to reply, but the words caught in your throat as he leaned in closer, his nose almost brushing yours. “I think you like the attention,” he continued, his tone smug as his lips curved into that infuriating smirk. “You wouldn’t keep me guessing if you didn’t.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your composure despite the rapid thudding of your heart. “Guessing? Please,” you scoffed, tilting your chin up slightly, refusing to back down. “You’re the one who keeps showing up, Heeseung. Not me.”
“And yet,” he countered smoothly, “you haven’t walked away yet. If you really weren’t interested, you wouldn’t still be here. With me.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, even as a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Maybe I’m just enjoying watching you make a fool of yourself.”
“Is that right?” he said, his voice dipping, playful but challenging. He leaned in even closer, so close that his lips were barely a breath away from yours. “Careful, baby, or you might end up falling for me instead.”
His confidence was maddening, but it was that same confidence that made your pulse race.
You tilted your head slightly, meeting his gaze with a raised brow. “Falling for you?” you repeated, your voice steady even as your heart betrayed you. “Don’t flatter yourself, Heeseung.”
He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm as his hand left the counter to lightly graze your hip, his fingers lingering just enough to make you aware of every single nerve in your body. “Oh, I’m not flattering myself,” he murmured, his tone dripping with amusement. “I’m just calling it how I see it.”
You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “You’ve got some nerve,” you said, shaking your head as you turned away from him.
His eyes following your every move as you picked up your drink again. “And you’ve got some walls,” he shot back.
You paused, glancing back at him as you took a sip of your drink. “Maybe they’re there for a reason,” you replied, your tone light but pointed.
Heeseung leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied you. “Yeah, but the thing about walls?” he said, tilting his head with a grin. “They’re meant to be climbed.”
You side-eyed him, the faintest smile tugging at your lips as you raised your glass to take another sip. “Try all you want mountain climber.”
Before he could come up with a response, you smoothly stepped away, moving around the kitchen counter to put some distance between you. His brows furrowed slightly in surprise, the sudden shift catching him off guard.
“Hey, wait a second,” he called after you, quickly sliding around the counter in an attempt to follow. The way he moved—quick but a little clumsy, as if he hadn’t expected you to slip away so easily—made you chuckle to yourself.
“You’re gonna have to try harder than that,” you said over your shoulder, your tone full of challenge as you leaned casually against the far end of the counter, nursing your drink.
Heeseung stopped on the other side, his hands gripping the edge of the counter as he tilted his head. “Oh, so now we’re playing games?” he asked, clearly in disbelief.
“You started it,” you shot back, taking another sip and meeting his gaze head-on.
His eyes narrowed slightly as if accepting the challenge. “Fine,” he said, “but don’t be mad when I win.”
“Win?” you repeated, raising a brow at him. “Pretty confident for someone who just got left behind.”
That earned a laugh from him, and in one swift motion, he stepped around the counter, closing the gap between you. “Left behind?” he echoed, his tone playful as he leaned down slightly, his face closer to yours. “Nah. I’m right where I need to be.”
Your breath hitched for the briefest moment, but you quickly masked it with another sip of your drink, refusing to let him see how much his persistence was getting to you.
Heeseung’s smirk widened when you began moving around the counter again, and without missing a beat, he mirrored your steps, chasing after you. “Oh, you think you’re clever, huh?” he teased, his tone light as his eyes tracked your every move.
“You’ll have to be faster than that,” you shot back, a playful laugh escaping your lips as you darted around the other side.
His hands hovered over the counter, ready to cut you off, but you were quicker, slipping just out of reach. The look of mock frustration on his face was priceless, and you couldn’t help but grin at your small victory.
“Alright, alright,” he said, holding his hands up for a moment as if calling a truce. But you weren’t buying it—not for a second.
When he lunged, you were ready, spinning on your heel and darting out of the kitchen entirely. “Nice try!” you called over your shoulder, weaving your way back toward the dance floor, the thumping bass and flashing lights swallowing you up.
You could hear him groan behind you, the sound half exasperated, half amused. “You’re really gonna make me work for this, huh?”
You didn’t answer, slipping into the crowd and letting the press of people conceal you. It was easy to lose him in the chaos, and when you glanced back over your shoulder, you caught a glimpse of him standing near the edge of the dance floor, scanning the crowd with a furrowed brow.
For a moment, you just watched him. The way he ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to spot you, made your chest tighten unexpectedly. But you shook the feeling off quickly, turning back to the music and letting yourself have fun.
The crowd seemed to shift and swirl, pulling you deeper into the dance floor. For a moment, you felt untouchable—lost in the freedom of the moment.
But that feeling didn’t last long. You could still feel him, even if you couldn’t see him. And then, just when you thought you’d successfully slipped away, a familiar voice cut through the noise, low and right near your ear.
“Thought you could run away from me?”
You turned your head sharply, only to find Heeseung standing there, a sly grin on his face. His hair was slightly mussed, and there was a faint flush on his cheeks, probably from weaving through the crowd to find you.
“How’d you—” you started, but he interrupted with a chuckle.
“You really think I’d give up that easily?” he asked, his tone almost incredulous. “I told you, I’m right where I need to be.”
You rolled your eyes, though the corner of your lips tugged upward. “Maybe you’re just a little too determined,” you said, stepping back slightly, but he followed your movement effortlessly.
“Or maybe you like being chased,” he countered, his voice smooth as he matched your pace.
You opened your mouth to retort, but he caught your hand, gently spinning you back toward him, his movements seamless with the music. It was so smooth, so unexpected, that you didn’t even think to pull away. “Caught you,” he murmured, his voice low as his eyes locked onto yours.
You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. “I let you catch me,” you replied.
“Keep telling yourself that,” he answered as he pulled you a little closer.
The space between you vanished, and for a moment, you were acutely aware of everything—his hand on your waist, his body, his gaze. It was dizzying, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you stayed there, caught in the moment, wondering how on earth he always managed to get under your skin like this.
Heeseung began to sway with you to the music, his hands resting lightly on your waist, guiding your movements with an ease that felt far too natural. You told yourself it didn’t mean anything. It was just dancing, just a moment. And yet, you didn’t stop him. You let him lead, let him pull you closer, until his forehead was nearly brushing yours.
But then you noticed something. The way his steps were deliberate, not just moving to the beat but steering you. Slowly, subtly, his touch guided you backward through the crowd.
Your brow furrowed as realization dawned. Heeseung wasn’t just dancing. He had a plan.
“You’re sneaky, you know that?” you muttered, narrowing your eyes as you glanced over your shoulder and saw the wall creeping closer.
Heeseung’s grin turned wicked, a spark of mischief lighting up his face. “Sneaky? Me?” he asked, feigning innocence, though the way his hands tightened ever so slightly on your waist betrayed him. “Yes, you,” you shot back, even as your back brushed against the cool surface of the wall. He leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “Can you blame me? You make it so hard to keep my distance.”
You rolled your eyes, though your pulse betrayed you, hammering in your chest as his gaze locked onto yours.
His gaze never left yours for a second. The world around you seemed to fade away as he leaned in just the slightest bit closer, his chest rising and falling faster with each breath. You could feel the heat of his body so close to yours, could feel the tension between you, thick and heavy.
He glanced down at your lips, then back up to your eyes, the look in his gaze unreadable. It was almost like he was testing the air between you, measuring whether you’d pull away or lean in. His hands on your waist holding you in place as if he knew you wouldn’t make a move. His breathing had picked up now, shallow and just a little shaky, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he was just as affected by this as you were.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you whispered, though you knew your voice was too soft to carry any real force. The words felt weak even as they left your lips, because you knew you weren’t really trying to push him away.
He chuckled softly, the sound deep and low, as if savoring the moment. “Like what?” he asked.
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t—because the answer was already in the way your heart was pounding, the way your breath hitched every time he got a little closer.
And then, without warning, he leaned in just a fraction more, his lips hovering so close to yours that you could feel the heat radiating from them, but he didn’t make the move. He was waiting. Testing.
You both seemed to be holding your breath.
Just as you were about to say something, the world shifted unexpectedly. A figure stumbled into Heeseung from behind, knocking into him, and before either of you could react, the person’s drink splashed all over you. You gasped as the cold liquid drenched your outfit, your heart sinking as you saw the mess, the dark stain had spread across the fabric, leaving a damp, sticky trail. “Are you kidding me?” you groaned, trying to wipe it off, but it only made it worse.
Heeseung, who had been caught off guard by the collision, quickly turned around. His brows furrowed with frustration, but his gaze softened when he saw the mess on your clothes. Without missing a beat, he pushed the person who had bumped into him away with a quick but firm shove. “Watch where you’re going!” he snapped. The drunk person mumbled an apology, clearly embarrassed, but Heeseung didn’t seem to care. His attention was on you now.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his hand brushing against your arm as he looked you over.
You just sighed, wiping your shirt, but it was clear you weren’t getting anywhere. “This is great,” you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else, “I didn’t even want to be here tonight, and now this…”
Heeseung didn’t let you dwell on it for long. “Come on,” he said, taking your hand in a way that was surprisingly gentle for all the tension you’d felt earlier. “Let’s get you cleaned up. There’s a bathroom down the hall.”
You didn’t argue, allowing him to guide you through the crowd, his hand on yours was warm, and even though you were frustrated, there was something comforting in the way he took charge.
When you reached the bathroom, he opened the door for you, ushering you inside with a soft “After you,” before making sure the door was securely closed behind you. The bathroom was quieter, and the air felt colder, but it was a welcome change from the chaos outside.
“Sit down, I’ll grab you some paper towels,” he said, motioning to the counter as he quickly moved toward the sink.
You sat down on the edge, trying to assess the damage, but the sticky feeling of the drink on your skin made it hard to focus. Heeseung was quick, his movements efficient as he grabbed a handful of paper towels and wet them under the faucet.
“You’re really going to make me clean up after you now?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood, though there was still a hint of irritation in your voice.
Heeseung didn’t reply right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his fingers brushing yours as he handed you the damp towels. His gaze softened as he looked at you. “I’m not making you do anything,” he said quietly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Just trying to help.”
You glanced at him, surprised by the gentle way he was treating the situation. You took the damp towels from his hands, still a little flustered by how close he was standing, how his gaze was focused on you with such intent.
“I didn’t ask for help,” you muttered, not in an angry way but more out of habit, the natural instinct to push away when things got too close, too personal.
He smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes. “I know. But that’s never stopped me before, has it?”
You opened your mouth to retort, but the words didn’t come. You couldn’t find the right response. Instead, you just looked at him, your heart doing that erratic thing it always did when he was this close.
Heeseung seemed to notice your hesitation, his smile softening. “You don’t have to push me away every time, you know,” he said gently, his voice almost too sincere.
You blinked, caught off guard. But before you could respond, he stepped back, giving you space, though his eyes never left yours. “I’ll wait outside,” he said quietly, his voice shifting back to its usual tone.“Take your time.”
You nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything else.
Heeseung gave you one last lingering look before stepping out of the bathroom, the door clicking softly behind him. As soon as he was gone, you exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart still racing in your chest. You quickly went to work cleaning yourself up, though the mess on your clothes was much harder to fix.
Your thoughts were spinning. There was something about the way Heeseung was acting tonight, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there was definitely something there, and it made your stomach twist in ways.
You ran a hand through your hair, trying to collect yourself. Why did he have this effect on you? You couldn’t figure it out, but the longer you stood there in the bathroom, the more confused you felt.
After a few more minutes, you gave up trying to fix the mess entirely. It was too late for that. Instead, you grabbed your things and stepped out of the bathroom. As soon as you entered the hallway, you spotted Heeseung standing by the door, his posture relaxed but his eyes immediately locking onto yours. “Well?” he asked, cocking his head slightly as he gave you a once-over. “Better?”
You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, much better,” you replied, trying to act nonchalant, but you could feel your heartbeat quicken again under his scrutiny.
He gave a small nod, his eyes never leaving yours. “Good. You look… good.” There was a hesitation before the words left his mouth, as though he wasn’t entirely sure how to phrase them.
You caught it, and for the first time tonight, you didn’t immediately push back. Instead, you simply looked at him, unsure of what was happening.
Wait.
You suddenly felt a strange sense of déjà vu wash over you. The way he looked at you, the way he was standing there waiting for you, felt familiar, like it was something you had experienced before.
Your mind wandered back to a memory from when you were younger, one that you hadn’t thought about in ages. You were just a child, maybe eight or nine, playing in the park with Heeseung not too far away. You’d been running around, laughing with the other kids when some clumsy little boy—one of your classmates—spilled his drink all over you. You’d been so upset, the sticky liquid ruining your favorite shirt, and you could feel tears threatening to spill.
But then, out of nowhere, there was Heeseung. He hadn’t hesitated for a second, not like some of the other kids who were too busy laughing or ignoring you. He’d been sitting nearby, playing with a figurine in the grass, but the moment he saw you, he dropped his toys without a second thought. Without saying a word, he had stood up, walked over to you, and gently grabbed your hand.
“Don’t worry,” he’d said with that soft, comforting tone only he had, “I’ll help you clean up.”
He had led you straight to the bathroom of the park’s little concession stand, where he carefully grabbed paper towels and dabbed at your shirt, his face set in a look of determination. You remembered feeling embarrassed, but somehow his presence made everything feel better.
And now, here you were, years later, with him standing in front of you again, doing the same thing—helping you, without hesitation. It made you smile softly to yourself, the memory tugging at your heart in ways you weren’t sure how to explain.
Heeseung, noticing the smile tugging at your lips, raised an eyebrow in playful curiosity. “What’s on your mind?”
You shook your head, trying to hide the faint blush creeping onto your cheeks. “Just… thinking about something,” you said, your voice quieter than usual.
He didn’t push, simply giving you a small smile, as though he understood without needing any further explanation.
Before you could think too much about it, Heeseung suddenly moved with a surprising confidence, his hand finding your waist and gently pulling you along with him. The sudden shift startled you for a moment, but the warmth of his hand against your side made your breath hitch slightly.
“You look like you need another drink,” he said, his voice low, but playful, as he guided you through the crowded hallway and toward the kitchen. He left you no time to protest, and you found yourself following him without much resistance. You’d barely processed the familiar feeling of his touch when you were already in the kitchen, the sound of music and chatter fading slightly as you both entered the quieter space. Heeseung let go of your waist once you were in the kitchen, but he still stood close.
You looked up at him, meeting his eyes as he turned to the counter, rifling through the bottles of alcohol, though his gaze never fully left you.
"Something strong this time?" he asked, his tone teasing but with a hint of genuine care, as though he wanted to make sure you were really okay. "Or do you want to take it easy?"
You were still caught off guard by the way he had pulled you along, the way he’d moved without hesitation, without waiting for permission.
"Maybe just something light," you replied, trying to play it cool, even though he was making it difficult to focus on anything else.
Heeseung worked quickly, his movements smooth as he reached for the bottle, his back was turned to you. But you couldn’t stop watching him—how his muscles shifted under the fabric of his shirt, how good he looked.
Heeseung eventually finished the drink and handed it to you, his fingers brushing against yours again as you took the glass. For a second, you both stood there, neither one of you saying anything. It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. It was that kind of silence where it felt like something was about to happen, but neither of you were sure what.
“So, what now?” you asked, trying to break the silence, but you could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you spoke.
Heeseung took a step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "Now," he said, "we get back to enjoying the night."
You swallowed, suddenly aware of how close he was. "Right," you said, your voice a little shakier than you intended, but you quickly recovered, giving him a small smile. "Let’s see if I can actually make it through the night without getting drenched in anything else."
Heeseung’s lips curled into a grin, and he chuckled softly. "I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again," he said, his tone playful but with an undertone of sincerity. He reached out and gently took your hand, his fingers brushing against yours.
You let him lead you back into the party, the music louder now, the crowd thicker. Heeseung didn’t let go of your hand, and you found yourself walking alongside him through the house, feeling uncertain.
✰ ✰ ✰
Somewhere during the night, you had lost sight of Heeseung. He had been dragged away by his friends, caught up in the crowd, and never returned after that. At first, it felt like a strange absence, the lingering sense of him still there even if he wasn't. But after a while, you pushed it aside, deciding it was fine.
You found yourself moving through the party, chatting with friends, laughing at jokes, and enjoying yourself. And as the night went on, you slipped into the comfort of familiar faces, people you could talk to normally. You were glad for the chance to just have fun, to forget for a moment the heat that always seemed to follow whenever Heeseung was around. You were fine without him, right?
You decided to step outside for a breath of fresh air. The noise and chaos inside had started to make you feel lightheaded, and the stuffy heat of the house wasn’t helping. A little solitude would do you good, you thought.
The cool air hit your skin as you stepped out into the backyard, a quiet escape from the party. You leaned against the outer wall, looking up at the night sky. The stars twinkled faintly above, and for a moment, you let the silence settle around you. It was peaceful, the kind of calm you needed after the madness inside. You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the chill of the night on your skin, and took a deep breath.
What you didn’t know was that someone was watching you from the shadows, standing just far enough away not to be seen. The shape of a figure, leaning against the corner of the house, observing you with quiet intensity.
The moment stretched on, the backyard still and quiet, until you felt a presence shift behind you. A movement you couldn’t quite place, and before you could turn around to see who it was, you felt the brush of someone’s body so close to yours that it made you freeze.
You slowly turned your head, your breath catching in your throat, and found yourself face to face with Heeseung. His lips were mere inches from your ear as he leaned in, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. But something was off.
His usually sharp gaze was a little hazy, his eyes unfocused as he smiled at you—though it didn’t reach the intensity of his usual teasing grin. He looked almost… detached. Out of it.
And then the smell hit you—a sharp, pungent scent of weed mixed with the alcohol. It hit you like a wave, and you realized just how much he'd been indulging tonight.
"Heeseung?" you murmured, taking a step back instinctively, your heart picking up speed as you watched him sway slightly, his breath coming out slower than usual.
He seemed to snap out of his daze for a moment, his eyes clearing slightly as he blinked at you. "Hmm?" His voice was low, almost lazy, and there was a softness to it that you weren’t used to hearing.
You studied him for a moment, his breath still tinged with the unmistakable haze of the night’s indulgence. He wasn't himself—at least not the playful Heeseung you knew. "Are you okay?" you asked cautiously, unsure how to navigate this new version of him standing so close.
He seemed to hesitate for a moment before a slow, almost dreamy smile curled up on his lips. "Yeah, just needed a break too. The noise gets... loud. You know how it is."
He swayed again, his hand coming up to rest on the wall near you, his face inches from yours.
You stood still, your heart racing as you took in the unexpected sight of him like this. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice steadier than you felt. “Maybe you should head back inside.”
He chuckled softly, but it lacked its usual spark. Instead, it was drawn out and almost tired. “Nah,” he muttered, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m fine... just needed a minute.” His fingers brushed your arm lightly as if trying to keep himself steady.
He didn’t back away, though, and neither did you.
You were unsure what to say next, unsure of your next move. "You’re making this... hard," you finally whispered, uncertain whether you were talking about the situation or him.
Heeseung smiled, but this time it was slow, almost seductive, like he was savoring the moment. “Maybe I like it that way,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl. He leaned just a little closer, his breath mingling with yours.
Despite everything, despite all the confusion, you couldn’t stop the way your heart pounded. Heeseung had always been a game you couldn’t quite figure out, but right now, you were starting to wonder if maybe it was a game you didn’t want to win.
As he leaned in further, you had to make a decision: pull away, or let yourself fall into whatever it was that had been brewing between the two of you.
Before you could even make a decision, he made the decision for you. His lips parted, and he murmured a low, breathy compliment against your ear, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “You look so beautiful baby,” he said, and there was a sincerity in his tone that cut through the haze. But before you could respond, his hand shot up to grip the side of your neck, his thumb pressing lightly against your skin, holding you in place. The other hand moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him.
Then, without warning, he kissed you. Hard. Hungry. His lips crashing against yours as if you were the air he needed to breathe, like this moment was the only thing that mattered.
You gasped into the kiss, caught off guard by the intensity of it. Heeseung’s mouth was possessive, eager, like he couldn’t get enough of you. He kissed you with a desperation that sent a rush of heat straight to your body, his hands pulling you closer, the pressure of his grip firm. It felt like everything had exploded in that moment, every feeling you’d been pushing away suddenly pouring out in a single, stolen kiss.
Your heart hammered in your chest, and even though every part of you knew this wasn’t how you expected things to go, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop it. The way he kissed you—like you were the last thing he’d ever touch—was overwhelming, and for the first time, you let yourself surrender to it.
His lips were intoxicating, and as he pulled you closer, you could feel the intensity in every movement, every press of his body against yours. The kiss deepened, more frantic now, as if neither of you could get enough. The feeling of him—so desperate, so needy—was something you never expected from Heeseung, and yet it was exactly what you found yourself craving.
You tried to stay grounded, to remind yourself of who he was, of all the walls you’d carefully built between you, but with each second, they seemed to crumble. His hands moved to your back, pulling you in as his kiss grew more fevered, his breathing erratic as he let out soft groans against your lips.
You couldn’t help but respond, your own hands rising to clutch at his shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric as if to keep him anchored to you, like the very act of touching him would stop this moment from slipping away. Heeseung’s body was solid against yours, and despite the confusion that still buzzed in the back of your mind, you couldn’t deny how badly you wanted this—wanted him.
His breath hitched as you pulled him even closer, you could feel the way his body seemed to tremble slightly as he held you in his arms, groaning lowly, the sound vibrating against your lips as he used one arm to brace himself against the wall, the other pulling you even closer, if that was even possible. His lips were desperate, claiming, his breathing heavy as it mixed with yours.
Your hands moved without thought, one gripping the back of his shirt, the other winding into his hair, tugging him even closer. He let out another low groan, the sound so needy it sent a shiver down your spine. Heeseung’s hand at your waist tightened, as if he was trying to merge your bodies into one.
Every part of you seemed to melt under his touch, all that mattered in that moment was the way he felt against you, the way his lips moved with yours, the way his hands seemed to be exploring every inch of your body. His lips moved with desperation, and each breathless kiss made it harder to remember why you had held back for so long.
But then, just as the kiss deepened again, your mind caught up with you. You could feel the weight of it—the gravity of what was happening. The familiar warning signs, the confusion, the uncertainty, all came rushing back to the surface.
You hesitated for a moment, your hands gripping his hair tightly, your chest rising and falling in quick breaths, trying to regain some semblance of control. Heeseung, sensing the shift, finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting softly.
“Are you okay?” he whispered, his voice raspy and gentle, as if checking to see if you were still with him in that moment.
You pulled back slightly, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to gather your thoughts, but your mind was still clouded by the rush of the moment. "We... we shouldn't be doing this," you murmured, your voice shaky, feeling the weight of the situation. "You're drunk, Heeseung. This isn't you."
Heeseung blinked slowly, his eyes still heavy with that lazy, almost dazed look as he played with the strands of your hair, his fingers brushing gently against your scalp. He tilted his head slightly, giving you that smile—the one that always made your heart flutter, even in the most confusing of times.
He leaned in just a little closer, his breath warm against your cheek, and he spoke softly, his voice sincere "Even if I wasn't drunk," he said, his lips curling into a slow smile, "I’d still do this." His eyes locked onto yours, the haze in them making his gaze feel even more intense. "Because you're you. A pretty girl I've wanted for years."
You felt your breath catch in your throat, the heat of his words curling around you like a blanket, and you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat. His hand on your hair moved down to gently cup your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. "This... this is unforgettable. And I’d do it over and over again, no matter what state I’m in."
You were speechless for a moment, but you knew he was being honest, even if his current state made it hard to fully trust his intentions.
"But...," you started, still unsure, trying to hold onto your reason, "this isn't the right time, Heeseung. We both know that."
Heeseung’s lazy smile didn’t falter, though there was a longing in his eyes somthing you hadn't seen before. He slowly moved his thumb down, brushing lightly over your lips before leaning in again, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Maybe not the right time," he said, his lips nearly brushing against yours once more. "But you’ve always been worth the wait."
Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his hand still cradling your face as if silently asking for permission. Then, he leaned in, placing a soft, tentative peck on your lips. It was gentle and when you didn’t pull away, he did it again, this time lingering a little longer. Each kiss felt like a question, and with every unspoken answer, his confidence grew.
The next kiss wasn’t as restrained. It was deeper, needier, as though the small taste he’d gotten wasn’t enough. His lips moved against yours with increasing urgency, quickly unraveling into something messier. His hand on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him, while his other hand moved to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair.
The kisses turned sloppy, his control slipping with every passing second. His breath came heavier, mingling with yours as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. He groaned softly against your lips, the sound vibrating through you, making your knees feel weak.
You couldn’t help but respond, your hands moving to grip his shoulders, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.
Heeseung broke away just briefly, as he gasped for air, his lips swollen and glistening. “You don’t know,” he murmured, his voice rough and filled with desperation. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.” Before you could respond, he captured your lips again, his kisses feverish, like he was making up for all the time he’d spent waiting. His body pressed you more firmly against the wall, as he completely lost himself in the moment, his body fitting against yours like a puzzle piece.
You tried to catch your breath, your head spinning from it all, but Heeseung wasn’t giving you a chance to think. His lips trailed down from yours, brushing along your jaw and down to your neck, where he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses that sent a shiver through your entire body. “Heeseung,” you managed to whisper, your voice shaky. You weren’t sure what you were trying to say—stop or don’t stop.
“Say my name again,” he murmured against your neck, his voice low and raspy. He placed another kiss just below your ear, his breath hot and tantalizing. “I love the way it sounds coming from you.”
You didn’t answer because the way he was looking at you left you speechless. His lips were swollen from the kisses, his hair slightly messy, and there was something in his gaze that you hadn’t seen before. “Heeseung,” you whispered again, softer this time, your hand reaching up to touch his face. The moment your fingers brushed his cheek, he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a second. When they opened again, there was a softness there that made your heart ache.
Heeseung’s lips found yours again, capturing them in a kiss so deep, so consuming, that it left you breathless. You could feel the way his fingers trembled slightly as they slid up your sides. One hand settled on the small of your back, keeping you firmly pressed against him, while the other moved to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough.
He groaned low in his throat, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine as his lips parted, inviting you to deepen the kiss. The way his tongue brushed against yours was dizzying, leaving your knees weak and your mind spinning. You responded instinctively, your hands moving up to tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer.
Heeseung’s breathing was heavy, uneven, as if he couldn’t catch his breath but didn’t want to stop. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, brushing against your skin in a way that made your stomach flutter. It felt like he was memorizing the feel of you, the taste of you, the way you fit perfectly against him.
Heeseung’s lips suddenly left yours, trailing a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw and onto your neck. “You don’t even know,” he murmured, his words slurred slightly but full of emotion. “How long I’ve wanted this… wanted you. God, you’re all I ever think about.” His lips grazed your collarbone, grounding you as he leaned his full weight into you, effectively caging you against the wall.
His rambling continued, each word pouring out like a confession. “I dream about you… about us. It’s always you. No one else even comes close, y’know that? The way you smile, the way you look at me… even when you’re mad at me, I can’t get you out of my head.”
His lips moved lower, pressing kisses along your chest as he spoke, his voice husky and raw. “You’re so beautiful… so perfect. And now you’re here, and I don’t want to let go.”
His words were pure need and desperation, and the way he shielded you with his body only amplified the intensity of the moment. “Tell me you feel it too,” he breathed, his voice breaking slightly. “Tell me I’m not crazy for wanting you this much.”
You were overwhelmed, caught between his touch and his words. Heeseung wasn’t holding back, and as much as you wanted to respond, the only thing you could manage was a shaky exhale, your hands clutching at his shirt to keep yourself steady.
Your voice wavered as you found the courage to speak, breaking through the haze of emotions swirling around you both. “But what about all the other girls, Heeseung?” you asked, your tone softer than you expected. “All the girls you’ve been with? The ones who’ve followed you around, who’ve—” You hesitated, the words getting caught in your throat.
Heeseung froze for a moment, his lips hovering against the curve of your neck, his breathing uneven. His answer was strained. “No one’s like you,” he said, his tone almost pleading. “No one even comes close.”
His hand moved up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “You think any of them matter?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. “All those girls… they were never you. Never even close to being you. I don’t care about them. I’ve never cared about anyone the way I care about you.”
His lips found your collarbone again, lingering there as he continued. “I’ve yearned for you—God, for so long. You don’t even know what you do to me.” His hand slid down to your hips, gripping you as if to anchor himself. “Every time I see you, it’s like nothing else exists. No one else exists.”
He pulled back slightly, his dark, half-lidded eyes locking onto yours. “I’ll drop them all—every single one. I don’t need anyone else, never did. I just want you.”
Heeseung, ever the gentleman suddenly took you by the hand and led you back inside, away from the prying eyes of the partygoers. With a gentle yet firm grip, he guided you through the bustling crowd, his eyes never leaving yours, as he led your way towards an unoccupied bedroom. Once inside the bedroom, Heeseung closed the door behind you, locking out the world and creating a private haven for the two of you, as he leaned in and captured your lips in a desperate kiss.
You responded to his kiss with equal fervor, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders, pulling him closer, while Heeseung's hands roamed freely, caressing your back.
Heeseung only pulled back slightly, his chest heaving with heavy breaths before he began to unbutton his shirt, revealing a well-defined torso.
Well this would be a fun night.
It was a fun night... but what ruined it was the fact that Heeseung suddenly seemed to forget who you were. The next few days at school were a complete shift. He avoided you. He didn’t look at you, didn’t talk to you, didn’t even so much as throw a teasing grin your way in the hallways.
No, instead, he went back to his old habits. He laughed and flirted with other girls, his charm as effortless as ever, like nothing had changed. Like you didn’t exist. At. All.
It was maddening.
But the worst part? Watching him smile at those girls with the same ease he once reserved for you, as if you hadn’t been pressed against that wall, that bed, tangled up in his words and his touch. It left a bitter taste in your mouth.
You didn’t know what happened. You wracked your brain for answers, trying to piece together where it all went wrong. But deep down, you should have known. Of course, you should have known.
Heeseung wasn’t the type to stay tethered. He wasn’t the type to settle. He was the type to chase, to get what he wanted, and then move on. And now that he’d tempted you, now that he’d had a taste of your attention, it seemed he’d gone on to the next woman.
Why would you be any different?
The thought made your stomach twist uncomfortably. You weren’t supposed to care. You’d told yourself you wouldn’t let someone like him get to you. But seeing him act as if nothing had happened—as if you were just another moment in his life—stung more than you wanted to admit.
And the worst part? You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked at you that night, the way he touched you, the way his words had seemed so genuine. Had it all been a lie? Or had he just changed his mind?
Either way, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it bothered you. If he wanted to act like you didn’t exist, you’d do the same. Or at least, you’d try.
And you did try. You really did. Ignoring Heeseung, pretending he was just another face in the crowd—it seemed like the only way to keep yourself sane. And for a while, it felt like it might work. You told yourself you could move on, that you could forget about the way his touch had felt, the way his voice had sounded when he whispered your name.
Yeah, no. You couldn’t.
Not at all.
You realized that the moment you walked by the bleachers and saw a girl perched comfortably on Heeseung’s lap during basketball practice. She laughed at something he said, her hand resting casually on his shoulder. Your stomach churned.
Nope. Moving on wasn’t happening.
And then in the hallways, you would see him leaning against the wall, his signature grin plastered across his face as he shamelessly flirted with other girls. Their giggles echoed in the corridor, and Heeseung would tilt his head, his eyes sparkling like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Yeah, moving on definitely wasn’t in the cards.
Each time you saw him acting like you were meaningless, like the night you’d shared was nothing more than a passing moment, it cut deeper than you wanted to admit.
And yet, despite all of it, despite the ache in your chest and the frustration bubbling under your skin, you couldn’t bring yourself to confront him. What would you even say? That he’d hurt you? That he’d made you believe you were different, only to prove otherwise?
No. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. But pretending it didn’t matter? That was turning out to be harder than you ever imagined.
Okay, yeah, pretending it didn’t matter was much harder than you thought. Because now, standing in the doorway of your room, staring at a very intoxicated Heeseung, all of those feelings you were desperately trying to bury came rushing back.
His hair was messy like he’d run his hands through it a million times. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing the smooth skin of his collarbones, and his belt dangled loosely from his hands like he’d been too distracted—or too far gone—to put it back on properly. The faint smell of alcohol and nicotine wafted off him, making you wrinkle your nose.
This was not how you’d planned to spend your night. You were supposed to be studying, maybe finishing the next episode of that series you were hooked on. A calm night. But of course, Heeseung had to ruin that.
“Heeseung,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe, trying to keep your voice steady, “What are you doing here?”
He blinked at you, his eyes glassy but still managing to hold that familiar spark that made your heart do stupid flips. “I—uh...” He trailed off, his gaze flickering over you like he was trying to figure out what to say.
You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You don’t even know why you’re here, do you?”
“I know why I’m here,” he slurred, leaning heavily against the doorframe. “I just... I wanted to see you.”
You sighed, already feeling the headache forming. “Heeseung, you’re drunk. And not in your right mind. You should go home before you embarrass yourself even more.”
But instead of leaving, he gave you that boyish grin—the one that always made your resolve waver. “Can’t I stay here? Just for a bit?”
“No,” you replied firmly, but even as you said it, you knew it wouldn’t be that simple.
Heeseung’s expression softened, and his voice dropped, almost pleading. “Come on, don’t do this. I... I don’t want to be anywhere else right now.”
You hated how those words tugged at something deep inside you. Why did he always have to show up and mess with your head?
You found yourself hesitating, your hand still on the door, unable to slam it shut in his face, sighing, your hand gripping the edge of the door as you tried to keep your cool. "I can't do this right now, Heeseung," you said, your voice quieter than you intended. "I have too much going on. I'm stressed, and I really don't have the energy for this."
He didn’t back off. Instead, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. His voice was low and teasing, with that same lazy confidence he always seemed to have. "If you're stressed, I can help with that," he murmured. "Play with me a little, and I promise, you'll forget all about it."
You blinked at him, caught off guard by his audacity. “Heeseung—”
“I’m serious,” he interrupted, a small, mischievous smirk playing on his lips. His eyes, hazy but still focused on you, sparkled with that familiar glint that always left you second-guessing yourself. “I’m really good at relieving stress. Just give me a chance.”
Your mouth opened to respond, but no words came out. The sheer gall of him left you momentarily speechless.
Finally, you shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of the moment. "Heeseung, you're drunk. You should just go home and sleep this off before you say something else ridiculous."
He tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness. “Drunk or not, I’m still right,” he said, his grin widening as he leaned a fraction closer. “But if you really don’t want me here…” He gestured vaguely toward the hallway, though he made no actual move to leave.
You closed your eyes for a brief moment, trying to summon every ounce of patience you had left. “Heeseung,” you said firmly, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze. “I need you to take this seriously. Either go home, or...”
“Or?” he asked, his voice soft but teasing, daring you to finish the sentence.
Your frustration bubbled over as you only glared at him, the sight of his disheveled figure only fueling your anger. "No! Do you have any idea how mad I am at you right now?" you snapped, crossing your arms. "You ignored me for days, Heeseung. Days! You acted like I didn’t exist, like nothing happened, and now you just show up at my door like—like this?"
Heeseung blinked, the lazy smirk faltering slightly, but he didn’t say anything. That only made you angrier. "Do you even know how humiliating it’s been? Watching you flirt with other girls, pretending like what we had meant nothing? And now, you think you can just waltz in here, drunk and out of your mind and what—fix everything with a grin and some smooth words? You don’t get to do that, Heeseung. You don’t get to mess with my head and—"
Before you could finish, Heeseung surged forward, his hands grabbing your cheeks as he pulled you close. His lips crashed against yours with a force that took your breath away, silencing your ramble in an instant.
Your mind went blank, your words evaporating as his warmth enveloped you. His kiss was desperate, almost as if he was trying to convey everything he couldn’t say out loud. One of his hands slid to the back of your neck, holding you in place, while the other stayed firm on your cheek.
You froze, your anger momentarily eclipsed by the intensity of his actions. But then, your hands instinctively pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss as you stepped back, breathless and wide-eyed. “Heeseung, what the hell?” you whispered, your voice shaking, unsure if it was from lingering anger or the way your heart raced in your chest.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” he admitted quietly, his voice hoarse. “You were yelling at me, and I just… I missed you. I couldn’t stay away.”
You stared at him, torn between wanting to scream at him and wanting to pull him back in. “You don’t get to do that,” you said, your voice trembling. “You don’t get to kiss me like that and think it’ll fix everything.”
“I don’t think it fixes anything,” he said softly, his gaze dropping to the floor.
Before you could respond, he took a small step closer, his forehead gently resting against your shoulder. His breath was warm against your neck as he hummed softly, the sound low and almost comforting. He nuzzled against your skin, his movements slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world.
“Heeseung,” you said, your voice strained as you placed your hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away. But he didn’t budge, his larger frame pressing closer as his lips ghosted over the curve of your neck.
“I missed this,” he murmured, the words vibrating against your skin. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss just below your ear, his hand curling gently around your waist to hold you steady.
You tried to push again, but it was weak, half-hearted, especially as his lips found a particularly sensitive spot, sending a shiver down your spine. “Stop it, Heeseung,” you said, but your voice lacked conviction, and he clearly noticed.
He chuckled softly, the sound deep and a little smug. “You’re telling me to stop,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your neck, “but you’re not really trying, are you?”
Your heart raced, torn between the anger still simmering in your chest and the way his touch was making your knees feel like jelly. “Heeseung, this isn’t fair,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression softer now. “You’re right. It’s not fair. But I don’t know how else to tell you that I’m sorry. That I’ve been a complete idiot. That I can’t stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try.”
His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. But before you could sort through your emotions, he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your neck once more, and you felt yourself faltering.
Heeseung’s movements were subtle at first, his arm tightening slightly around your waist as he guided you further into the house. You didn’t even realize he’d kicked the door closed until you heard the faint click of it shutting.
Your distraction gave him the advantage, and before you could voice even the smallest protest, he was steering you toward the couch. His hands were steady, firm, but not forceful, leaving you confused and torn between stopping him and giving in to the pull he had on you.
“Heeseung—” you started, but the words barely escaped your lips before his mouth was on yours again, silencing you with a kiss that was anything but gentle. His lips moved hungrily against yours, leaving no room for argument, and when you tried to push back against his chest, your resolve faltered as he moaned softly into the kiss. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, and to your dismay, a small whine slipped out in response.
His lips curved against yours as if he could sense your weakening resolve, his hands started guiding you to lay down on the couch. The weight of his body hovered close, not trapping you but leaving you with the realization that Heeseung wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured against your lips, “if you really want me to, I will.” But the way he looked at you, his dark eyes full of yearning and desperation, made it clear he didn’t want you to say the words.
When you didn’t respond, Heeseung’s lips curled into a slow, almost knowing smile. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his voice tinged with satisfaction. He leaned down, brushing his nose against yours before capturing your lips once more.
This kiss was different—softer at first, unhurried but still filled with that undeniable hunger. His weight shifted slightly, his chest pressing against yours while his hand slid from your cheek to your waist, steadying you. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, as though he wanted to memorize every detail, every sound you made, and every way you responded to him.
You couldn’t stop yourself from melting into him, Heeseung’s lips left yours only briefly, trailing kisses along your jaw, his warm breath ghosting over your skin as he murmured, “You don’t know what you do to me.”
Your pulse quickened, your heart hammering in your chest. “Heeseung… please,” you managed to whisper, though your voice trembled, making it come out weaker than you’d intended.
But he only shook his head softly, his lips brushing against your cheek as he murmured, “Shh… Don’t.” His voice was low and soothing, almost pleading, as though he couldn’t bear to hear you say anything that might break the moment between you. “Just… stay with me. Don’t push me away right now,” he whispered.
Before you could respond, his lips found yours again, this time slower, softer, as if he was savoring the moment.
And you couldn’t help but let yourself fall deeper into the kiss.
✰ ✰ ✰
Yeah, you were getting pretty tired now.
After waking up the next morning to an empty bed, Heeseung having dipped sometime before you even stirred, you couldn’t say you were surprised. Disappointed? Sure. Hurt? Maybe. But surprised? Not in the slightest.
The hollow feeling lingered as you dragged yourself to school, telling yourself to just push through the day like nothing had happened. It was easier said than done when the moment you stepped into the halls, you spotted Heeseung leaning casually against his locker, laughing at something one of his friends said, acting like he didn’t have a care in the world.
And of course, he acted like last night didn’t happen. Not a glance in your direction, not a nod of acknowledgment—nothing. It was as if you didn’t exist, as if you hadn’t shared anything at all.
You bit down the frustration bubbling in your chest, refusing to let it show. You’d told yourself you wouldn’t let him get to you, that you’d play it cool, but damn, it was harder than you thought. Watching him joke around, watching him flirt effortlessly with anyone but you—it stung more than you wanted to admit.
You sighed, gripping the straps of your bag a little tighter as you walked past him, pretending you didn’t notice him either.
It got to the point where your friends couldn’t ignore it anymore.
“What’s going on with you and Heeseung?” one of them asked, their tone laced with curiosity and concern. “He was all over you, and now he’s... not. Did something happen?”
You hesitated, debating whether to say anything, but their expectant gazes made it clear they weren’t letting it go. So, with a deep breath, you told them everything.
Their reactions were immediate.
“He did what?” one of your friends exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“Are you serious? He was with you and then went back to ignoring you? Twice?!” another chimed in, her voice rising in anger.
They were shocked at first, then angry—angrier than you were, which was both comforting and a little overwhelming.
“You need to stop answering his calls,” one of them said firmly, leaning closer. “He’s just using you as a backup plan when he’s drunk and lonely.”
Another nodded, her expression equally resolute. “Don’t let him in, no matter how much he begs. If you let him in, you’re just setting yourself up to kick him out later. And trust me, that’s worse.”
“Exactly,” a third added, crossing her arms. “And don’t even think about being his friend. Friends don’t wake up in each other’s beds after nights like that.”
The last comment stung more than you cared to admit, but they weren’t done.
“If you’re under him, you’re never getting over him,” another said bluntly, her words hitting harder than you’d expected. “And you deserve better than this game he’s playing with you.”
You sat there, their words circling in your head like a storm. Deep down, you knew they were right. You knew you couldn’t keep letting Heeseung in only to get hurt every time he left. But knowing it and doing something about it were two very different things.
One of your friends sighed, shaking her head. “You know what this sounds like, right? A situationship. That’s what this is turning into.”
The others nodded in agreement.
“That’s exactly what it is,” another chimed in, crossing her arms. “He keeps you close enough to make you think you matter, but far enough to avoid any real accountability. Classic situationship behavior.”
You groaned, leaning back against the bench. “I don’t even know if it’s that deep. He probably doesn’t think about me at all.”
“Well…” one of them started, glancing over your shoulder, her expression shifting into amusement and curiosity.
“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at her.
She hesitated for a moment before blurting it out. “Heeseung’s staring.”
Your head snapped around so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash. And sure enough, there he was, standing at the edge of the basketball court, holding a ball loosely in one hand. He wasn’t laughing with his teammates or focused on the game. No, his eyes were locked directly on your group—or more specifically, on you.
Your friends followed your gaze, and a chorus of whispers erupted.
“Oh my god, he really is.”
“What is he doing just standing there?”
“Is it just me, or does he look like he’s debating something?”
One of them nudged you. “Okay, spill. What’s going on in his head? Did you say something to him recently? Text him?”
You shook your head quickly, still staring at Heeseung. “No, I haven’t even looked at him, let alone talked to him.”
“Then why is he staring like that?”
“I don’t know!” you said, your voice low but frantic.
Another friend tilted her head, watching him closely. “It’s not just a glance, either. He’s full-on staring. Like he’s trying to figure out if he should come over here or something.”
The thought made your stomach flip, cause there was something more intense in the way he looked at you—like he was fighting some internal battle.
“Well, whatever’s going on,” one of your friends whispered, “he’s definitely not over you.”
You turned back to your friends, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. “You guys are making this into something it’s not.”
One of them snorted. “Honey, he’s the one making it into something. Look at him.”
Against your better judgment, you glanced back at Heeseung, and your breath hitched when your eyes met his again. He didn’t look away. If anything, his gaze only grew more focused, like he wanted to make sure you knew he was looking.
You quickly turned back to your friends, forcing a tight smile. “Let’s go,” you said, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.
They exchanged knowing glances but didn’t argue. One of them muttered, “Good idea,” as the group began gathering their things.
As you walked away from the bench, you resisted the urge to glance back at Heeseung. Your friends stayed close, their chatter filling the air as they tried to distract you, but it was hard to shake the feeling of his eyes still on you.
When you reached the school gates, one of them broke the silence. “So… are we just going to ignore the fact that he was practically burning a hole in your back with that stare?”
“Yes,” you said firmly, your voice sharper than you intended. “We’re ignoring it.”
Another friend chuckled softly. “Okay, okay. But just so you know, he’s not ignoring you.”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stepped onto the sidewalk. “Well, he’s doing a great job of pretending otherwise most of the time.”
“That’s the thing,” someone said thoughtfully. “Guys like him—they act like they don’t care, but the moment they think they’re losing you? They start doing stuff like this.”
You didn’t reply, tightening your grip on your bag as the group walked down the street. You didn’t want to talk about Heeseung anymore, didn’t want to think about the way he looked at you.
✰ ✰ ✰
It was a vicious cycle, one you hated but couldn’t seem to break. Each time you told yourself it would be the last, that you’d stop answering the door, that you wouldn’t let him in again. And yet, every time the night fell and he showed up—messy hair, glassy eyes, and a crooked smile—you found yourself giving in, letting him cross the threshold into your apartment.
Heeseung had this way of making you feel like you were the center of his world. His hands were always warm, his voice low and sweet, whispering things that made your chest ache in ways you couldn’t describe.
“Why do you do this to me?” you’d asked one night, your voice breaking as you stared up at him, your fingers tangled in his hair.
He’d only smiled, brushing his thumb against your cheek as if he didn’t have an answer, or maybe because he didn’t want to give you one. “Because I can’t stay away from you,” he’d said, his voice so soft you almost didn’t catch it.
But then morning would come, and he would vanish like a dream you couldn’t quite remember, leaving behind an empty space in your bed and a heavier one in your chest. And at school, it was always the same. His eyes would find you across the cafeteria or the hallway, and for a moment, it would feel like everything stopped. But he wouldn’t come over, wouldn’t talk to you. He’d just look.
Your friends noticed it, too, how he’d stare at you as if you were the only thing in the room, even when there were other girls around him, laughing at his jokes and vying for his attention.
“You’re letting him ruin you,” one of them said one afternoon, her voice tinged with frustration.
“I know,” you admitted, your voice hollow. “But it’s not like I can just stop.”
You wanted to hate him, for the way he seemed to pull you in only to push you away, for the way he made you feel like you were everything one second and nothing the next.
But you couldn’t. Because even though you knew it was toxic, even though you knew it was breaking you bit by bit, there was a part of you that couldn’t let go.
Because in those nights, when he looked at you like that, when he touched you like he’d fall apart if he didn’t, you felt wanted. Needed. And no matter how much it hurt afterward, you kept holding onto it, hoping that one day, he’d stop running.
It wasn’t until his friend Jake—of all people—came to talk to you that you started piecing things together. You’d been so caught up in the back-and-forth, the way Heeseung would tease you one moment and ignore you the next, that you never truly understood why. But now, hearing it from Jake, it was like a lightbulb went off in your mind.
Heeseung, despite all the other girls he flirted with, never gave them the attention he gave you. He never kissed them, never looked at them the way he looked at you.
And Jake had confirmed it. Heeseung was in love with you. Hopelessly in love, but he didn’t even know it himself. That’s why he acted the way he did. He didn’t know how to handle it, how to deal with it.
Jake had told you Heeseung was scared. He’d never felt this way about anyone before, and it terrified him. So, he’d masked it all with arrogance, with distance. But when he was drunk, then the walls came down, his real feelings would surface. That’s why he’d always show up at your door when he was intoxicated—because, in those moments, he couldn’t hide from what he truly felt for you.
You wanted to be mad at him for hiding behind that facade, for playing with your feelings. But now you understood. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about you; it was that he was so afraid of what this all meant, of what it would do to him, to both of you, that he couldn’t face it. So, he ran, and he used everything he could to keep you at arm’s length, to protect himself from being honest with you.
But knowing the truth didn’t make it hurt less. You still found yourself torn between wanting to be there for him, to help him figure it out, and wanting to protect yourself from getting hurt even more. Because at the end of the day, you were both so damn lost in this mess.
“Look, I know you’re confused. But you need to understand, Heeseung’s been a mess about this. He’s never felt anything like it before. And trust me, he doesn’t know how to handle it.”
You shook your head, trying to process everything Jake was saying. It didn’t seem to make sense. Why hadn’t he just told you? “But why does he act like he doesn’t care? Why ignore me at school like I’m nothing, and then do… all that when he’s with me?”
Jake shifted uncomfortably, knowing the weight of your words. “It’s easier for him to push you away than admit it to himself. He’s scared. He doesn’t get why he’s so into you. So he avoids it.”
You stared at him, your heart racing as everything started to fall into place. But you still had questions, things you didn’t understand. “But why doesn’t he just… talk to me? Be honest?”
Jake shrugged, his eyes softening. “He doesn’t know how to navigate this. It’s easier for him to hide behind his stupid behavior than face the truth.”
You were silent for a long moment, processing all of the information you had gotten.
When you didn`t answer, Jake let out a resigned sigh, his shoulder slumping slightly before he gave you a supportive pat on the shoulder. "You’ve got to make him talk," he said quietly, his voice filled with sympathy. "You’re the only one who can get him to open up. Just… don’t wait forever, okay?"
He gave you one last look before walking off, leaving you standing there with your heart racing in your chest, all of your emotions tangled up in knots.
Your footsteps were heavy as you walked away from the scene, feeling the weight of every question that lingered in your mind. Why did you have to talk to Heeseung? You weren’t his therapist, nor his emotional support. Wasn’t he man enough to talk to you? You clenched your fists, frustration building in your chest.
What if Jake was wrong? What if he was just trying to paint a picture that didn’t exist, feeding you some narrative to make you feel better about the mess you were in? What if you were making a fool of yourself? The thoughts spiraled, doubt flooding your mind. Every interaction with Heeseung now felt like a game you didn’t know how to play, where the rules were constantly changing and you were left scrambling to catch up.
What if you were just a sidepiece? The thought stung more than you wanted to admit, and the image of Heeseung laughing with other girls earlier flashed in your mind. He was always so charming, so easy with them, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe you were just another stop on his list, a temporary distraction, something to pass the time until someone else caught his eye.
You sighed deeply, rubbing your forehead as you made your way to your car. You wanted to be done with this—done with the confusion, the uncertainty, the constant emotional whiplash. But part of you knew it wasn’t that easy. Nothing with Heeseung ever was.
But maybe Jake was right. Maybe you could be the one to make him talk—to make him finally admit what was really going on in his head, what he was feeling. But was it worth it? Was risking your heart worth it?
You bit your lip, feeling a wave of frustration and sadness wash over you.
✰ ✰ ✰
Okay, to be fair, Heeseung had it coming. You repeated it in your mind like a mantra as you looked down at your phone, the screen lighting up with his constant calls and texts. Each one more desperate than the last, his words slurred, the grammar all over the place—clearly, he wasn’t in his right mind. The messages seemed to echo the chaos in your chest, but you refused to reply.
You stared at the phone, feeling a mix of frustration and something else—something deep and heavy that you couldn’t quite place. He had done this to himself, hadn’t he? He had made his choices, and now he had to deal with the consequences. The constant buzzing of your phone finally slowed, and you thought maybe he had given up. But then, the doorbell rang.
You froze, your stomach dropping. You crept cautiously to the door, standing there for a moment as the bell rang again and again, each chime making your heart race. The knocking started soon after, loud and urgent, but you stayed still, arms crossed, refusing to move.
You weren’t going to let him back in.
The knocking stopped suddenly, and for a moment, everything was silent. And then, through the door, you heard his voice.
“Please… please open the door…” His voice was shaky, desperate, as if he was on the verge of breaking. “I’m sorry. Please, I need you. I just… please don’t leave me like this.”
Your breath caught in your throat. This wasn’t something you were used to hearing from him. It was different.
"I need to see you... I can't stop thinking about you... Please, don't... don't shut me out, not now."
Your heart pounded in your chest as you cautiously unlocked the door, the sound of the latch clicking echoing in the silence. When the door creaked open, you were met with the sight of him sitting on the ground, his posture slumped, eyes staring at the bottle in his hand like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
As soon as he saw you, he scrambled to his feet, his movements frantic, as if he couldn't wait another second. Before you could even take a step back, his arms were around you, pulling you into an embrace that was far too tight to push him off.
You gasped in surprise, your hands instinctively pushing against his chest. "Heeseung, wait—" But your protest was quickly smothered as he held you tighter, pressing his face into the side of your neck.
“I can’t… I can’t stop thinking about you,” he mumbled, his words slurred and uneven, the alcohol clearly taking its toll. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry for everything. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just…” His grip on you tightened, his hands shaking slightly. “Please, don’t hate me… I need you…” His voice faltered, and you could feel the tremor in his body as he clung to you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
You took a deep breath, trying to gather the words to say, but before you could form anything coherent, Heeseung’s lips were suddenly on yours. His kiss was urgent, a little sloppy, as though he was trying to drown out whatever feelings were swirling inside him. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, and you could feel the weight of his need against you.
"Stop," you whispered weakly, your hands pushing against his chest, but it did little to stop him. If anything, he just leaned in further, his lips moving with a frantic energy as he kissed you harder.
You pulled back for a moment, gasping for air, but Heeseung wasn’t letting go. His forehead rested against your neck as he breathed heavily, his lips brushing against your skin. “I need this,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice muffled but laced with desperation. “I need you.”
You tried again, more forcefully this time, pushing him back slightly, but his grip on you tightened. “We need to talk,” you managed, your voice breaking, your hands trembling as you tried to create space between you two. “You can’t just keep doing this—coming to me when you’re drunk, acting like nothing happened—”
But Heeseung didn’t seem to hear you. His eyes fluttered closed as he kissed you again, this time a little more gently, though it still held that same desperate edge.
You couldn’t help but respond, even if you didn’t want to. Heeseung was like a drug, and you were already too far gone, as his kiss deepened and his hands roamed, you couldn’t ignore the voice in the back of your mind, reminding you that this wasn’t how things should be. You deserved more than this chaotic cycle, more than the confusion, the highs and lows.
But in that moment, you let him hold you, let him kiss you, because you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. Not when he needed you like this, not when you still felt that pull, even though you knew it wasn’t healthy.
And when he finally pulled away, looking at you with those dark eyes full of longing, you were left breathless, conflicted, and unable to move.
✰ ✰ ✰
It was like a cruel game he played—one step forward, two steps back. After the night, when he’d clung to you, he’d returned to his old ways at school, completely shutting you out. It was as if the moment he left your apartment, the walls came back up, and he was back to pretending you didn’t exist.
You’d see him in the halls, laughing with his friends, flirting with other girls, completely ignoring you like everything that happened between you two meant nothing. It was maddening.
You tried to act like it didn’t bother you. You went through the motions, keeping your head down, focusing on your schoolwork, your friends, anything to distract yourself from the constant ache in your chest. But the more he ignored you, the more you realized just how much it hurt. And it hurt even more because you knew that he wasn’t like this because he didn’t care. He was like this because he was scared. Scared of what was between you, scared of how vulnerable it made him.
Heeseung was a complicated mess, a boy who wanted everything but feared the very thing that could make him feel whole. And you? You were stuck in this limbo, torn between wanting to confront him and just walking away before you got hurt even more.
It was exhausting.
One minute, he was the boy who couldn’t stop touching you, couldn’t stop kissing you, the one who made you feel like the only person in the room. The next minute, he was a stranger.
You were deep in thought, trying to make sense of the mess that was Heeseung, when you suddenly felt a presence beside you. Turning to your left, you saw a guy you barely knew—someone who kept to himself at school, never talking much. He was standing there, a nervous but hopeful look on his face, and before you could even react, he asked, “Hey, would you like to go out sometime? Maybe grab a coffee?”
You opened your mouth to decline, trying to find the right words that wouldn’t make him feel bad, but before you could say anything, an arm snaked around your waist, pulling you in close with surprising force.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you instinctively stiffened as you turned to see none other than Heeseung standing there. He leaned in just enough to block your view of the guy, his eyes focused on the nervous stranger.
Before you could protest or say anything, Heeseung’s voice cut through the tension, casual but firm. “She’s not interested,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The quiet guy who had been asking you out now looked taken aback, stepping back a bit, unsure how to respond.
You couldn’t believe what was happening. Heeseung had just walked up and made it clear to someone else that you weren’t available. You wanted to say something, to protest, but you couldn’t find the words. It felt as if everything had suddenly flipped upside down.
“I—uh…” The guy stammered, clearly intimidated by Heeseung's presence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” He turned quickly and walked off, leaving the two of you standing there in silence.
You snapped back from the suprise and pulled away from Heeseung’s grip, your mind spinning. “What the hell, Heeseung?” you managed, your voice laced with frustration.
He didn’t say anything at first. His gaze flickered to where the guy had disappeared, and then back to you.
You stared at him, waiting for an explanation, but instead, Heeseung just stood there, his expression unreadable.
"What’s your problem, Heeseung?" you demanded, stepping back. You couldn’t contain the anger that was rising in your chest. "Why are you acting like this?"
He ran a hand through his messy hair, his eyes avoiding yours for a second. He let out a frustrated sigh before meeting your gaze. “I don’t know,” he said quietly, the words almost sounding like a confession. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”
Your heart sank a little, but it didn’t stop the fire that was still burning inside you. You’d had enough of this back-and-forth.
"Then figure it out," you snapped, pushing him off. "I’m not going to keep doing this, Heeseung. Get your shit together."
He didn’t say anything more, but the look in his eyes—so conflicted, so full of uncertainty—said everything.
You turned on your heel, walking away before he or you could say anything. You didn’t know if you were making the right decision, but you couldn’t keep letting him drag you around like this.
It was later that night, after you’d gotten a bit of distance and time to cool down, when you heard the familiar sound of your doorbell ringing again.
You froze for a second, unsure if you wanted to deal with him yet again, but the quiet, hesitant knock that followed told you it wasn’t the same as before. You found yourself standing by the door, hands gripping the doorknob, hesitant to open it.
When you finally did, your breath caught in your throat. There he was, but only.. not the usual version of him you were used to seeing. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face pale, and he looked... broken.
His eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time in a long time, there was no bravado. He was standing there, vulnerable, as if unsure of how to approach you after everything.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” he whispered, his voice cracking. He wiped his face with his sleeve, almost embarrassed. “I fucked up. I know I’ve been an asshole… but I needed to see you. I need to talk.”
You stood there for a moment, trying to process everything. It was hard—too hard. You’d spent so much time questioning his intentions, wondering if he even cared. Seeing him like this, so exposed, made you feel conflicted. Part of you wanted to push him away for all the hurt he’d caused, but another part of you wanted to reach out and hear him out.
“Why now?” you asked quietly, your voice betraying the frustration you’d been holding back. “Why come to me like this? After everything?”
He looked down at the ground, visibly struggling. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t know. I’ve been running from this. From you. From how I feel. And now I’m just… lost.” His words were shaky, like he was trying to hold onto his composure but was failing. “I’ve been an idiot, and I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
You didn’t know how to respond. Everything felt like it was happening too fast. You opened your mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.
Instead he stepped closer, and for the first time, there was no arrogance in his movements, no cocky confidence. He looked genuinely lost, as if he was desperately trying to figure himself out. “I don’t know what I’m doing… but I know I want to fix it. Fix us. If you’ll let me.”
You took a step back, crossing your arms over your chest as you tried to collect your thoughts. “I don’t know what to say,” you admitted softly, your voice trembling a little with uncertainty. “You’ve been so hot and cold. One minute you’re all over me, the next you act like I’m invisible. How am I supposed to trust that this is real?”
He closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was gathering the courage to say what had been haunting him. When he spoke again, his voice was almost a whisper. “I know... I’ve been a mess. I was scared,” he confessed, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You made me feel things I’ve never felt before. Things that… terrified me. And instead of coming to you, talking to you about it, I ran. I pushed you away, and I’m sorry for that.”
The way he was standing, so different from how he used to act, made you reconsider everything. He wasn’t hiding behind walls anymore. “I don’t want to be scared anymore,” he added quietly, his voice cracking just slightly. “I want to be with you. If you’ll allow me.”
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to figure out what to say next. You were so unsure now, seeing him spill his heart out for you.
“I don’t feel this with anyone else,” he said softly. “No matter how hard I tried to push it down, it’s always been you. You’re the only one who makes me feel like this.” He paused for a moment, before he dropped down to his knees in front of you, taking both your hands gently in his, while his eyes never left yours. “I don’t know what I was waiting for. I was stupid, I was scared. But I know now... I love you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you, and I’m sorry for making you feel like you were nothing. You’re everything to me. Please... let me prove it.”
Your breath caught in your throat, and for a long moment, all you could do was look at him, trying to process what he’d just said. You had never imagined he’d say those words, especially after everything that had happened. But now, as he knelt before you, his hands still holding yours with such gentleness, it felt different. It felt real.
Doubts still lingered, but as you looked at him—really looked at him—kneeling before you, his hands gripping yours, something inside you began to shift.
The truth was, you loved him too. Despite everything—the hurt, the confusion—you couldn’t deny that your heart ached for him. And seeing him like this, open in a way you never thought possible for him, made you realize how much you wanted to believe in him, in this. You took a slow breath, your voice barely a whisper as you spoke. “I don’t know, Heeseung…”
He didn’t pull away, didn’t try to say anything more. He just waited, his gaze never leaving yours, hopeful but patient.
You looked down at his hands still holding yours, his fingers trembling slightly. “I’ve been hurt, and I don’t want to be hurt again,” you said, your voice wavering just a little.
“I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve hurt you, and I’m so sorry. But I promise, I’ll do anything to make it right. Just… let me try.”
Your heart ached at his words. And slowly, almost hesitantly, you nodded. “Okay. We can try.”
He exhaled sharply, relief flooding his features, but you could see the uncertainty still lingering in his eyes. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but something inside you told you that this—he—was worth trying for.
He stood up, his hands still holding yours, and pulled you gently into his arms. You let him, your body instinctively melting into his embrace. He buried his face in your hair, his breath warm against your neck.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “I’m going to make you see that I mean it.”
Staning there in his arms, the doubts slowly began to fade. Maybe it would take time. But you felt hope stirring within you. Maybe you could try to make this work.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to read your emotions. His hand still cupped your face gently, waiting for a sign from you. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice low, filled with both uncertainty and hope.
"Yes."
Without another word, his lips descended onto yours, and the kiss was everything. Deep, urgent, and filled with so much emotion that it took your breath away.
When you started to feel breathless you tried to pull away, your breath ragged, but each time you did, he followed you, his lips catching yours again, desperate, insistent. Your heart raced, and your head spun as you tried to pull back for a moment’s reprieve, but Heeseung wasn’t having it.
"Please," he groaned between kisses, his hand gripping your waist tightly. "Just—just let me…" His voice was rough, desperate, as if your lips were the only thing keeping him grounded. "I need you. You… You make my heart beat. You make everything else fade. I want to breathe you in until I can’t breathe anymore."
His words were tangled, like he couldn’t get them out fast enough, like he was trying to make you understand something, but what, exactly, you weren’t sure. His kisses grew more frantic, more needy, and despite your attempts to catch your breath, you couldn’t help but respond to him.
You finally managed to gasp out his name, your voice barely a whisper, "Heeseung... Stop, I need to breathe."
He paused for a split second, just long enough for you to catch your breath, his breathing just as erratic as yours. "I can't... can't stop," he muttered. "You're all I think about... all I want."
✰ ✰ ✰
It was funny how much things had shifted since Heeseung’s confession. You couldn’t deny the change in him. He meant every word he’d said that night, and he made sure to show you just how serious he was about being with you.
Heeseung was intense in everything he did, and his love for you was no exception. It wasn’t just in the way he looked at you, as if you were the only person in the room, or the way he clung to your hand like letting go would mean losing you. No, it was in the small things too. The way he remembered the little details about you, how he stayed up late just to make sure you got home safe from your late-night shifts, or the way he’d pepper your face with kisses whenever he thought you looked stressed.
And then, there were the nights. Heeseung had always been passionate, but now that he wasn’t holding back, it was overwhelming in the best way possible. He left no part of you untouched, no part of your heart unloved. Your skin bore the evidence of his intensity, faint marks that lingered long after his lips had moved on, a testament to just how much he adored you.
He didn’t just say he loved you; he showed it. In every kiss, every touch, every whispered word, Heeseung made sure you knew just how much you meant to him. And while it could get a little overwhelming at times, you couldn’t deny that it felt good—so good—to be loved so completely.
Heeseung's love was all-consuming, and with it came an intensity that left you breathless. He made it his mission to show you just how deeply he cared. But he never lost the playful side that made you fall for him in the first place.
He still teased you relentlessly, knowing exactly how to make your cheeks flush. “What’s that look for, baby?” he’d smirk when he caught you staring, leaning in close to whisper, “Can’t get enough of me?” His confidence was maddening, but you’d learned to give as good as you got.
Sometimes, he’d flirt with you like you were strangers meeting for the first time. “Hey, gorgeous,” he’d say, slidling up to you with a grin. “Come here often?” It didn’t matter if you were at your desk or in the middle of a crowded hallway; Heeseung always found a way to make you laugh and roll your eyes at his antics.
But then, he’d do a 360 and leave you utterly disarmed. Like the way he’d wrap his arms around your waist out of nowhere, pressing his lips to your ear to murmur, “I love you so much.” It was whiplash, the way he could go from cocky to soft in an instant, and it kept you on your toes.
Now that you had Heeseung basically wrapped around your finger, it felt empowering. He catered to you, always quick to appease your whims, and he seemed to thrive on your happiness. Whether it was picking up your favorite snacks, carrying your bag, or pampering you after a long day, Heeseung was yours—and he made sure you knew it.
But he had his limits.
There were moments when he reminded you that, while he adored you, he wasn’t completely under your control. Like when you pushed him too far with teasing, a playful remark about him being “so soft” for you turning into a challenge in his eyes.
One such night, you’d been cheeky, testing how much you could get away with. “You’ll do anything I say, won’t you?” you’d teased, a smirk playing on your lips.
Heeseung’s eyes darkened, the shift immediate. “Anything?” he repeated, voice low and laced with something that sent shivers down your spine. Before you could process, he had you pinned, his hand firm but careful as it held your wrists above your head.
“You like to push me, don’t you?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Think I’m all soft and sweet?”
You didn’t have a chance to respond before he showed you just how wrong you were. Heeseung wasn’t rough in a careless way—he was calculated, controlled, and oh-so-intense. He left no room for doubt about who had the upper hand in those moments.
By the end of it, you were breathless, your legs trembling as you clung to him for support. Heeseung’s smug grin and the way he kissed your forehead tenderly afterward only made it worse.
“Still think I’m soft?” he teased, brushing a strand of hair from your flushed face.
You couldn’t even answer, too dazed to form words, which only seemed to please him more.
The next day, walking was a challenge, and Heeseung, ever the charmer, had the audacity to chuckle when you winced. “Told you there’s only so much I’ll let you boss me around,” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple.
It was infuriating, but it was also Heeseung. And if you were being honest, you loved every second of it.
a/n: finished this while waiting for the train to come, in the snow storm :) reblogs and commentary are appreciated <33
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