#they MAKE you feel that way then CALL YOU OUT for it
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fushitoru · 2 days ago
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ranking types of hugs he'd be comfortable with another guy giving his gf! a gojo satoru fic/drabble
cw: gojo x reader, established relationship, fluff LOLLL, gojo being a pathetic loser for his gf, use of baby, babe, reader referred to as gf and wears makeup, gojo being jealous, crack, based off this (instagram link)
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"Ranking types of hugs I'd be comfortable with another guy giving my girlfriend." Satoru squints at the scene, reading out the caption on the TikTok as he watches the guy on the screen, long ass spider legs laid out on the couch while waiting for you to get ready. Curiously, he clicks on the filter without fully watching the video and starts filming to generate the different types of hugs.
"A back hug." The curious smile on his face slowly fades away as a grimace takes place as he gains the thousand yard stare. "Nine. Okay, not at a good start so far—"
He groans, face scrunching in pain as he exhales out at what he sees on the screen: slow dance hug. Then, he imagines you, a man's hand on your waist and you smiling just like those stupid fucking drawings at someone who's not him—"Ten. Oh my fucking god."
Clutching the lower half of his face, he looks concentrated as he waits for the shuffler to give him some less painful option, groaning in pain once again, looking back at the scene, and then groaning again. "One armed hug," he strains out, blindly reaching for the lowest number he could rank it as.
The filter shuffles yet again, and he's almost in tears, groaning immediately on instinct but then doubling back at his screen. "Polite hug." He contemplates it. "Okay, a two, not so bad, not so—"
A pause. "A classic hug." He stares at the screen like it just betrayed him, until he decides it's not so bad. Reluctantly, he ranks it at three.
Then, he waits for the filter to give him another painful vision, and it delivers. "A slow catcher hug—oh my godddd." Satoru is shaking his head, eyes teary as he groans loudly at the though of you jumping up to another man, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in for a hug. If someone was listening to him, it would seem like he was dying with the way he was covering his mouth, shaking his head, and exclaiming "what the fuck"'s as he stared at his phone screen in sheer shock.
Unfortunately for you, you were within earshot, blending in your blush and doing finishing touches as you heard Satoru's shrieks coming in from the living room. He seemed to be on the edge of tears, and worriedly, you set down your brush and rushed to where his sobs were coming from.
And there he was: in fetal position, phone on the floor as he shook his head as if in shock. "Baby," you hurried to him, grabbing his face so you could figure out what was making him so distressed.
He didn't seem to be injured as he meets your eyes, upset. "I can't do this bruh," he laments while turning to be on his back and rubbing his eyes. You just look at him confused.
"Do what?"
He turns, and pauses. Scans you in your champagne dress for the fancy place he was taking you and the way you did your makeup so sultry. It's just for him, but after the events of that Tiktok—that's now stopped filming—all he feels is petty jealousy because other guys can see you like this.
Out of nowhere, he declares, "I can fight."
You blink. "What?"
"I can fight," he repeats, nodding emphatically as if trying to convince himself. Then, after a beat: "Why do I have such a pretty girlfriend?" He groans again, throwing his arm over his eyes. "Baby, why do you look so good right now?"
While he does this, you inspect him for any signs of injuries or things that could've caused him this much distress. Finding none and used to his theatrics, you sigh and pat his cheek. "I’m going to finish getting ready," you say, deciding he’s not in mortal peril after all.
As you return to your vanity, Satoru calls after you, still sulking. "Just so you know, I ranked the polite hug at two. Because I love you. And I can fight."
"Good to know, Satoru."
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a/n lowk spiderman!gojo coded. i love writing fluff i would lowk want to write this for nanami i feel like he would slowly grow more and more jealous LMAOAO
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cherrygirlfriend · 2 days ago
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touchy subject II pairing: reader x exfiancé!rafe synopsis: seeing your ex-fiancé after four years. warnings: heavy angst. some fluff. miscarriage/stillbirth. vehicular accident. wc: 2k part 2 of touchy subject. part 3 / the final part coming soon. click here for part 1
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you could feel your heartbeat in your throat, raw with unshed tears, the vision of your ex-fiancé with another woman blurred by nothing but the tears brimming at the edges of your vision, so different from the ones that ran down your cheeks the day you'd said yes to him.
"of course i'll marry you." you pulled rafe to stand up, your arms around him before you could even think about what you were doing, rafe letting out a sigh of relief. "wait, wait, i gotta ask you something." you rushed out, pulling away from the hug, his hands still staying on your waist.
"what is it?"
"is this just because i'm pregnant?" you ask, rafe's brows furrowing in confusion, yet you left him no time to respond, "it's just- i want to marry you, but i don't want you to feel like you have to ask me just because i'm pregnant, and if you want to wait until the baby's-"
you could feel how tired rafe was getting of your rant by the intensity of his lips on yours, using it to interrupt you, his fingers sliding under your jaw to help hold it up to meet his; and just like always, he didn't need to say one word for you to understand what he was communicating to you.
the moment his eyes found yours, it felt as if all the air was punched out of your lungs, like the entire planet just stopped spinning. it didn't matter that the jewelry store's display was separating you; it felt like the first time he looked into your eyes and told you he loved you.
you wanted to run, to make sure you wouldn't have to face him, to have to hear what his voice sounded when you'd already managed to forget how it was to hear it in person, but it was like your feet had rooted to the ground within the few seconds that he spotted you.
and you begged to whatever entity that once you saw him approach the exit to the jewelry store, the other woman long forgotten, that your fight-or-flight instinct would kick in, but luck was never really on your side, because there he stood, his face the same as the last time you saw him, with a few lines added here and there, and a part of you couldn't help but ache at the thought of having missed the moment they appeared.
you looked up at him, into the same eyes you'd once imagined your daughter would have, the thought making the bout of nausea in your throat even worse. a part of you wanted to congratulate him, to tell you that you were happy for him, but it felt like the words were choking you, like they were burning in your throat. but the choice to even say something was taken from you, when you heard the bell above the door to the jewelry store let out a cheery ring.
"rafe
?" the red-haired woman called out, her brows furrowed in question, and the moment your ex turned around to face her, you took the opportunity to turn the other way, begging that your feet would take you away before you threw up on the spot.
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"i saw him yesterday."
"it was the first time you saw him in person since you left, correct?"
"yes. i sometimes checked up on his social media, but seeing him like this... so close to me i could touch him... it was pretty jarring. it felt like no time had passed, but also like i hadn't seen him in decades."
"and how did he look?"
"handsome." you chuckled softly, your hand going to fiddle with the locket around your neck, sliding it up and down the golden chain, avoiding looking at the zoom meeting displayed on the laptop screen. "he looked just like he looked with me. he looked happy."
"happy anniversary, rafe." you smiled softly as you pushed the gift box at him, your fiancé letting out a small tut.
"you know you didn't have to get me anything, right? you're enough for me already. both of you are."
"yeah, yeah, stop being all cheesy and chivalrous and open it already." you urged, watching as he lifted the lid of the gift box, his eyes widening as he looked down at the present, but before he could say anything, you stopped him, "look at the back of it!"
rafe rolled his eyes, picking up the steel watch from the box, and you could see his gaze soften the moment his eyes spotted the engraving on the back of the watch, the edges of his lips almost automatically twisting up at the words 'evelyn cameron'.
"is it bad that it makes me feel bitter?" you asked, chewing at the inside of your cheek, "that it's been four years, and i haven't been able to move on, but he has? that he's managed to be happy, but i haven't? that i don't know if i ever will?"
"the loss of a child..."
you couldn't help but tune out the words of your therapist like they were nothing but background noise, not knowing if it would be worse if she tried justifying your anger or if she tried to get you to understand why rafe had managed to move on, your eyes instead focusing on the heart-shaped locket you'd opened, the faces of the couple staring right at you.
"rafe, where are we?" you laughed softly, your feet hurting from the heels you were starting to regret wearing, the blonde having parked his car in front of a random house.
"you didn't think i wouldn't get you an anniversary present, did you?" when you didn't immediately answer, he pressed his hand to his chest in mock offense, shaking his head, "come on. lemme show you."
the two of you got out of the car, your heels clacking against the stone pathway leading to the house, rafe's muscular arm keeping you close to him, helping you walk.
when you got to the door, he let go of you, and you watched as he took out a set of keys without saying anything, twisting them in the lock and pushing open the door, looking to you enthusiastically, extending his hand to you.
the moment you stepped over the threshold, you were enveloped by warmth, rafe flicking on the light next to the entryway before turning to you as your eyes got used to the light, sliding his hands onto your waist, pulling you as close to him as the growing child allowed.
you looked into his eyes, yours filled with confusion while his were filled with nothing but sincerity, his thumb stroking your waist. "rafe, what's this?"
"it's our home." he said, bringing his hand to your bump, "i know it's not much, but it's got enough room for our family."
"rafe, this is-"
"this is my anniversary present for you. i won't take 'no' for an answer." he brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, tugging it behind your ear, "i want us to build our own home. our own life."
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you kicked the radiator in frustration; it seemed like no matter what, the place wouldn't warm up. you'd called a maintenance guy, but they told you that it'd take at least a week for them to get someone there, and in the middle of winter, your only option was to light the fireplace in the middle of the living room while you waited for your mom to arrive with a portable radiator she told you she'd borrow you.
you sat in front of the blazing fire, your fingers fiddling with the frayed edges of the worn-out ultrasound picture you'd looked at a million times, your voice coming out weak from the sobs you were holding in your throat.
"hi, evie." you said softly, looking to the small urn next to you, engraved with the name of your daughter as well as today's date, only five years before. "happy... happy birthday."
"hi, baby." rafe's voice called out from the speakerphone of your car, the windshield wipers wiping away some of the rain falling down on you as you drove through the dark streets lit only by the yellow streetlights above, "are you almost home?"
"i am." you chuckled softly, "seeing my mom was so nice, even though she kept being all cheesy about how big i'd gotten. i swear, she almost cried."
"come on, she's gonna meet her grandkid in a month, of course she's gonna be all cheesy. if my dad had a paternal bone in his body, i'm sure he'd be ecstatic."
"yeah, well, you're not the one whose stomach is constantly getting pawed by people." you let out a snort, looking out into the road, "listen, i'm gonna drop by the store cause little evie's craving chocolate, do we need anything?"
"nah, just need you two home as soon as possible."
"aye aye, captain. see you soon, baby." you laughed, hearing the noise that signaled that the call had been ended, eager to get home and off your feet.
but before you could even realize what was happening, you were faced with a second pair of headlights that was approaching you, another car lit up by your own yellow headlights. and you swerved.
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maybe it's a part of the so-called mother's instinct to blame ourselves when something happens to our child. no matter how many people told you that it wasn't your fault, that there was nothing you could've done, every bone, every cell in your body couldn't help but beat yourself up over what happened.
rafe ran down the hospital hallway, the smell of disinfectant mixed with the feeling of his heartbeat in his ears making him feel nauseous, the man sure that it was beating 200/bpm, but finally, when he reached the hospital room the reception had guided him to, a sense of relief took over him.
a nurse walked out of the room, startled by the man, her eyes widening at the obvious sense of urgency he was displaying, "can i help you?" she asked.
"no, no, i'm just here to see my fiancé." rafe said, his hand going for the door, only to be blocked by the nurse.
"i'm sorry, but the patient has told us that she doesn't want any visitors."
"what?" rafe let out a dry, humorless laugh, his brows furrowed, "you have to let me see her, that's my fiancé. that's- that's the mother of my child."
"i'm sorry, but the patient-"
"hey!" rafe pounded the palm of his hand on the door, the hospital bed visible from the rectangle of glass on the door, the man able to see your mother hunched over your bed, holding you. "let me-"
"sir, if you don't calm down, i'm going to have to call the guards and they'll remove you from the premises."
"that's my fiancé!" rafe shouted as the nurse pushed him further from the door, "i have to go see her! you have to let me see her! just tell her that i'm here, she'll want-"
the door to your hospital room swung open, rafe meeting the crestfallen eyes of your mother, her lips pulled into a straight line. "rafe, she doesn't want to see you."
when you heard the doorbell ring, you wiped away the tears that had ran down your cheeks; you didn't want to make it obvious to your mother that you'd spent the last fifteen minutes crying, and even if she could tell by the redness of your eyes, you knew she wouldn't mention it.
you pushed yourself off the ground, placing the small urn and the ultrasound picture on top of the fireplace as you straightened out your sweater, your feet cold against the hardwood floor as you walked to the front door.
but when you pulled it open expecting to see your mother, it felt like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs, like your heartbeat shot through the roof just from the sight of his downcast eyes.
"rafe."
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shouyuus · 2 days ago
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18+, vi-shaped brainrot, mdni
consider college roommate!vi who is the star of the rugby team and just such a fucking jock about it, spends hours at the gym, has pre and post workout drinks and never closes her door when she's blasting rock music, leaves pink hair dye on the bathroom counter, stains the tub when she gets drunk and tries to redo her roots, calls you everything but your name -- sweetcheeks, dollface, cupcake, princess -- isn't shy about her hookups, doesn't even bother to apologize the mornings after another pretty cheerleader scampers out of her room, shrugs and winks when you come out of the bathroom with a tiny thong dangling off your finger that's clearly not either of yours.
college roommate!vi who does kickboxing on the weekends and teaches a kid's course at the local gym. the first time you go there to drop something of her's off as a favor, you can't help but stare at the way she laughs and chases the kids around, so gentle with her movements, so careful, guiding their punches, correcting their forms. and the kids love her -- it's so easy to see, the stars in their eyes, the color high in their cheeks, the way the girls cluster around her legs and the boys are constantly vying for her approval, how she tries her best to divide up her attention equally between all of them.
college roommate!vi who goes real quiet the first time you laugh in her presence, a real laugh, not one of those ha-ha ones you snipe at her when she's trying to get a rise out of you, or teasing you about spending all your time in the library, but one that shakes your shoulders and makes your whole face light up. who has to blink when you cock your head and ask if she's okay bc she was so busy staring at you, wondering about the weird thumping in her chest, the tightness in her throat.
college roommate!vi who's there for you when you're stressed about your dissertation, and she knew you were smart, but listening to you rant about it at 3am in the morning, she's starting to realize that... you're kind of a genius. to be so young and already doing a doctorate in mechanical engineering, and the things you're trying to do -- they could conceivably change the world one day. who freezes when you let your head drop onto her shoulder with a heavy sigh, telling her that you don't know what to do.
"you'll figure it out, cupcake. with a brain like yours? you always do."
college roommate!vi who realizes way too late that she's kinda got it bad for you, bc since when did she start getting used to the sight of you wearing one of her gym shirts in the mornings, making scrambled eggs, rolling your eyes when she yawns her way into the tiny kitchen, leaning an arm against the fridge as she looks you over before asking what's for breakfast. who's gotten so used to falling asleep to the soft clatter of your computer keys that when you leave to visit your family for a weekend, she tosses and turns and can't figure out why it's impossible for her to get to sleep, wanders into sliver of space you guys have crammed a couch and tv into to call a living room, slumping down there to stare at the ceiling, only to feel her fingers graze against something on the ground, who tugs out the thing from under the couch only to find herself staring at one of your bunched up socks with the goofy cartoon cats pattern, and she remembers (suddenly) finding you tearing your room apart the week before trying to look for it because it's your favorite pair of socks.
she finds herself chuckling, letting the sock fall again, but the tightness in her throat doesn't recede, and invisible fingers clench in her gut as she lets her eyes fall shut.
"well... fuck."
college roommate!vi who doesn't know how to act when you get back from your weekend away, when you throw yourself into her arms, your skin still smelling of the crisp fall air and something warm, and spicy -- it reminds her of the holiday market you dragged her to last year, the cinnamon and spiced apples, the hot, mulled wine, the way it burned all the way down when she took the first sip, the way it worked the most darling flush into your cheeks above your pink knit scarf.
"i've got a present for you!" you say, when you finally extricate yourself from her gasp, your arms still around her shoulders, her hands still settled around your waist.
"y-yeah? you didn't have to do that, sweetcheeks --"
"yeah, but i saw this in a store window and -- well i just... it reminded me of you," you say, pulling back to dig something out of your travel bag, and it takes everything in vi not to tug you back into her chest. so instead, she settles for knitting her arms across her front and coughing to hide the fact that her throat's just tightened over itself at your words. you? seeing something and thinking of her? gods, she was so far gone.
"here," you say, pulling a small black box out and offering it to her on the palm of your hand.
vi stares, before reaching out to take it, her eyes flickering up towards your face, only to catch you chewing on your bottom lip in a way that makes her mind frizzle out at the edges. she refocuses her attention on the box -- opening it, she finds a tiny little gemstone, set on a thin golden chain --
"oh..." she breathes, tugging out up to let the gem dangle from between her fingers.
"it -- it's an alexandrite stone," you say, your voice a bit reedy, but you push on as vi continues to stare, "it's uhm -- one of the rarest gemstones in nature, but the cool thing is it changes colors depending on what kind of light it's under --" you reach up to grasp her wrist, her lungs seizing at the contact as you tug her into the incandescent light of the kitchen. "see? it was light blue a second ago, right? and now it's --"
"violet," vi says, her voice soft and disbelieving.
you quickly let go of her wrist, pursing your lips and wrapping your arms around yourself, looking anywhere but at her face.
"yeah -- i just --" your shoulders shrug up as she stares at you, her sky-light eyes wide, "it... it reminded me of... you."
college roommate!vi who, ever since the "necklace incident" (as the rest of the rugby team likes to call it), hasn't really been the same. she's put on the necklace and not taken it off for even a second since the day you gave it to her, but now she doesn't really know how to act around you -- bc did you actually like her? i mean, the necklace is... a pretty big thing to just give someone, but what if you were just giving it to her as a friend? as a roommate? she agonizes over it to the point that the rest of the team are so, so sick of hearing about it, they lovingly tell her to just fuck her and get it over with already. but vi insists that she can't -- it's different with you.
college roommate!vi who's stunned speechless when she gets home to find you staring at your computer, your expression blank. and at first, she thinks something's horribly wrong, but then you're slamming into her, squealing about how you've done it -- your thesis defense went well, that you're a doctor now -- and she's picking you up, spinning you around, buoyed up by the effervescence of your happiness, pressing a kiss to your cheek --
"oh my god, congrats princess! i knew it! i always knew you could do it!"
"thanks -- god, i just -- i've wanted it for so long i... i don't know what to do with myself now that i've got it, y'know?" you say, still suspended in vi's arms, your feet lifted off the ground. it takes a moment before you both seem to realize the position you're in, and vi clears her throat as she lets you down, you looking away, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool the heat gathering there.
after a brief pause though, vi chuckles, reaching out to slip a finger beneath your chin, tilting your face up towards her's.
"c'mon, put on one of those pretty dresses of yours. we're going out."
"out?"
"yeah. to celebrate."
you blink as vi pulls her hand away.
"but it's like... 4:30 on a tuesday."
vi cocks an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at her lips, "yes, and? c'mon cupcake --" her eyes catch yours and instead of looking away, she holds it this time, something flickering behind their powder-blue depths that makes your skin prickle with heat, "i'll show you a good time."
college roommate!vi who takes you to one of her favorite clubs, tugging you through the crowd, the jostling bodies, holding your hand in her's, trying really hard not to think too much about it (or the fucking insane little black and pink miniskirt you put on), telling herself that it's just to make sure she doesn't lose you in the crowd, grinning when someone knocks you into her chest, and she finds her arm wrapped around your waist, fingers scrunching the material of your skirt, your palms splayed on her chest.
she buys the both of you a round of shots, watching with a hitched breath as your tongue flickers out to lick the salt daubed on your wrist, the way your eyes squeeze shut when you take the shot and your lips wrap around the lime slice, tries to ignore the twist in her gut like a turning blade, the way her whole body flushes with heat, the dull ache caught between her legs when you wipe your lips, your eyes bright and a little blown out, your cheeks flushed with color as you giggle and lace your hands with hers again --
"come on! i wanna dance!"
college roommate!vi who is just drunk enough to let herself dance with you, to let herself lean in to the way you're twisting your body, fingers in your hair, your eyes closed, an indulgent smile on your lips, who let's herself imagine (just for a second), pulling you in to kiss you, how soft your lips might feel on hers, how silken your skin might be beneath her hands, who tries not to groan when you lean in closer, link your arms behind her neck, press your whole body against her's, who grips your hips just a little too tight, grinds you against her, sees the way you gasp, your eyelids fluttering as you eyes glaze out --
college roommate!vi who can't help how she groans at the sight, tugs you in by the back of your neck to mash her lips to yours, crushing you to her as she kisses you (finally, finally) and you let yourself he kissed -- your fingers tangle in her choppy pink hair, and she swears you make this sweet, mind-bending whimpering noise in the back of your throat that drives her up the wall and right over it --
but when she pulls back, she sees the look on your face -- shocked and little confused, but you're drunk, and she doesn't wanna do this with you -- at least, not like this.
college roommate!vi who pulls away, only to have you follow her all the way out the club, into this small dark alley, her shaking her head, feeling a strange, saltwater prickle at the back of her throat as she says --
"shit -- sorry. i didn't mean to -- i just -- you were just so -- and i -- fuck, i didn't --"
"vi -- vi -- no, violet, listen to me --"
it's her full name on your lips that makes her pause, makes her turn to find you walking towards her. your lipstick is smeared, your hair a waterfall mess around your shoulders as you corner her against the rough brick of the club's exterior. faintly, she can still feel the pulse of music reverberating from inside the club, but out here, the air is damp and cold and quiet.
"i -- i'm sorry i kissed you," she says, her voice cracking over the syllables. she bites her lips as you frown up at her, your eyes searching her's before you let out a soft sigh and a scoff.
"well. i'm sorry you feel that way. cause..." you take half a step back, your arms curling around yourself before you glance back at her with a hard, determined light to your eyes as you press back into her space, your cheeks bright with color.
"i was really kinda hoping you'd do it again."
vi's breath punches out of her chest; it takes a few seconds of sputtering before she gathers herself enough to speak.
"wait -- what? you..."
you crinkle your nose, rolling your eyes, "i -- i thought i was making it obvious -- i mean, with the whole necklace thing -- it doesn't take a genius to figure how i feel about --"
you squeak as she pins you against the opposite wall, her lips seeking yours out, her fingers rucking up the material of your top, making you hiccup as they tease under the wire-rim of your bra.
college roommate!vi who can barely control herself when you sink your fingers into her hair, tugging lightly as you gasp out a breath, her lips tracking fire along the side of your neck, intent on making you whimper again, just the way she likes, grazing her teeth along your collarbone even as you jerk at her hair --
"vi -- fuck -- vi, not here --" you swallow around the burgeoning desire, and when you glance down to find her looking up at you, her eyes so dark they're almost black, you fight back a groan, cup your palms around her cheeks and pull her up for a long kiss.
"let's --" you suck in a breath even as vi whines at the loss your lips, "let's go home --"
"holy fuck," vi swears, somehow managing to pull herself back just far enough to taste the misty night air. she stares at you, your chest heaving, a daisy-chain of hickeys blossoming along the long expanse of your neck, your makeup good and smeared, your hair a mess, your eyes bright and so full of love as they flicker over her face.
vi smiles, helpless to the loud, uncertain drumming of her heart as she says, "y-yeah -- let's get you home, princess."
college roommate!vi who barely waits for the elevator door to close in your building before she's got you shoved up against the wall, hoisting you up, her fingers seeking out the softness of your skin, tugging up your shirt, her other hand dipping into the waistband of your skirt, her mouth open and hungry as she kisses your neck, bites down at the junction of your shoulder just to hear you moan.
college roommate!vi who's way too good at undoing your bra with one hand the second you get back to your apartment (if you were more coherent, you might've thought it hot), the door slamming closed, the pair of you toppling onto the room, breathy laughs and panting whines as she hoists you into her arms and carries you to your bedroom, laying you down so gently, kissing up your stomach till you're whimpering, your own hands pulling your top off your body, leaving you in an undone-bra and a miniskirt, your cheeks flushed. you push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as vi peaks up at you from between your legs, shooting you a wink before she's tugging down your skirt and panties all in one, an eyebrow ticking up at the lil lacey thing you had on beneath the skirt all along.
"all this for me, pretty?"
you press your lips, eyes cutting away as she looks between the bra dangling off your shoulders and the panties caught round your ankles. her lashes flutter.
"oh, a matching set," she cocks her head, running her palms up your thighs, pinning them open again as you try to press them closed, feeling suddenly much too seen (bc you'd be straight up lying if you hadn't put it on in the vague hope that the night might evolve into something like this).
she clicks her tongue, shaking her head with a cocky, shit-eating grin that makes your heart skitter in your chest. her drops a light kiss to your inner thigh, savoring in the way you whine again.
"nope, keep 'em open princess."
college roommate!vi who takes her time with you, bc rly she's been waiting way too long for this, has imagined it one too many times, but nothing can compare to the way your hips jerk up against her mouth, the way your fingers tighten in her hair every time she licks up the seam of your cunt, the way your breath catches on her name over and over again, like you can't quite get the word out even though it's just a single syllable. she groans against you, too lost in the taste of you to care about what a mess she must look like, with her tongue fucking into your desperate hole, her nose nudging your clit, her fingers digging crescent moon marks into your hipbones.
she's sure that if this were an old-fashioned cartoon, there'd be big, balloon hearts popping out of her eyes. she can't get enough of you like this -- moaning her name, your legs on either side of her face, your skin littered with the remnants of her. she has the eye-rolling thought of you the next morning, of how all these marks will still be there to remind you of her every single time you see one of them.
college roommate!vi who doesn't expect you to flip over after she's literally eaten you out seven ways to sunday, to tug her in for a soft kiss (though she really does like pressing your own taste back into your mouth with her tongue), before your fingers are inching down the length of her body to tease at her hips, trailing circles down the lines of her abs, toying with the thin line of hair that leads into her black boxer briefs.
"what are you --"
you shoot her a look that has her mouth going dry.
"what? didn't think i can give as good as i get?"
college roommate!vi who's literally going to lose her mind with the way you're fingers (at first sight so thin and delicate, but gods are they stronger than they look) are pressing into her, curling up with the kind of precision usually only associated with doctors, and then a voice in the back of her head reminds her -- oh, right, you are a doctor now. but logical thought dies after that, bc you've somehow worked your way between her legs and are looking up at her with those big dark eyes of yours, smiling sunshine bright before you drop a kitten-lick against her clit and she's twitching, keening as she cums all over your fingers.
"jesus fuckin' christ, doll -- is that what you're learning in those engineering classes?"
she's breathless, cheeks flushed, and honestly just a little embarrassed at how quickly she came, but she has to bite back another groan as she watches you lick your fingers clean, grinning sweetly up at her as if you didn't just get her off in record time.
"no, but i did do my dissertation on human-based robotics, which included a lot of late nights memorizing anatomical models so..."
vi pulls you in for a kiss, laughing against your lips.
"you're amazing, y'know that?"
college roommate!vi who can't really believe how much she's lucked out, sharing an apartment with her girlfriend, who literally cannot shut up about you, but the rugby team all agree that they'd rather have this than the months of endless pining. who brags about her genius gf to anyone who'll listen, and looks for you in the stands of all her practice matches when you can make it, who kisses you in front of everyone even when you make a show of trying to wiggle away bc she's sweaty (you don't really care).
who loves telling the story of how you guys met bc she still can't quite believe it herself, and the story always starts with --
"well, actually -- we started off as roommates."
1K notes · View notes
wonustars · 3 days ago
Text
In Front of Me (1)
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cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me ₊˚
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âŠč pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader âŠč genre: bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni) âŠč wordcount: 40.6k (part 1) (part 2: here)
âŠč summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.
âŠč tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, unrequited love (for the most part), pining, toxic!wonwoo, toxic!reader, both in wonwoo and readers pov, questionable protagonists, mentions of other svt members, happy ending (?), emotionally constipated characters (wonwoo), flashbacks, slight seokmin x reader, a lot of emotions thrown everywhere. (content warnings under the cut)
âŠč note: this story was meant to be posted for wonwoos bday, but if you know anything about me by now, i never really stick to my self made deadlines lol. thank you to my cutieful, big brained beta readers: ♡ @junkissed @chocosvt and @sunniques ♡ everyone in @svthub and @highvern and @gyuswhore who helped me w this fic as well ! if u look closely this is pretty much just a sugar coated version of real life events lol... anyways i hope u enjoy and lmk what u think thru the replies and reblogs :) !
âŠč masterlist, fic playlist.
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âŠč smut tags: no smut in this part :p âŠč warnings: alcohol, reader is downbad for wonwoo, stalking, slut-shaming, evasions of privacy, if i missed anything lmk! cuz ik i did i just can't think of what hehe :p
âŠč what i would like to note about this story before you read it: you're not meant to like these characters (for most of the story at least lol), they are flawed in many ways, thats the whole point of this story tbh. tmi--but this story is pretty much my free therapy lol. and i love a messy plot! wonwoo and reader are just two normal people in this story and i wanted to write something a little more raw than i'm used to. so just take what i say with a grain of salt before reading ♡ i still want you to enjoy this story because i poured my soul into it. so thank you for your support and kind asks and comments about the teaser!
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prologue. 
Despite your age, you’ve never been in a serious relationship. There was always something holding you back, or rather, someone. 
In all the years you’ve known Wonwoo, you’ve always thought maybe one day, he would look at you in a different light. Hoping that he could reciprocate the feelings you’ve harboured for him since the eleventh grade. 
He was the one who constantly moved out of relationships. You couldn’t even count the amount of late-night calls where he asked you what his “next step” should be. The doting best friend that you are, you’d gladly stay up all night trying to help him fix his girl problems. 
“I just, I don’t have feelings for her anymore. Is that wrong?” he asked you over the phone. 
Tossing and turning in your bed you let out a deep sigh. One thing is always guaranteed with Wonwoo: in a relationship, he loses feelings quickly. No matter how much he likes the girl, no matter how obsessed or possessive he feels for them at the beginning of it all, it diminishes by the time the six-month mark hits. 
Although he may be a great friend to you, relationships were never his strong suit. 
“It’s not wrong to fall out of love, but how many times are you going to break up with someone before you decide to stay?” you ask him, and he pauses to think. 
“I don’t know, but I can’t stay, that would make things worse,” he sighs. “It’s better to just stop this whole thing now.” 
“I agree, but are you sure?” you continue to ask him the same questions you’ve been asking since you were sixteen. 
“I’m sure,” he replies with a heavy sigh. 
“Okay, then goodnight. It’s almost one in the morning,” you try to cut the call, but he continues to speak. 
“I’m not the bad guy, right?” he asks you for reassurance. 
“No, you’re just human Wonwoo. There’s nothing wrong with losing feelings for someone,” you affirmed. 
“Alright, thank you, good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers listlessly. 
“Good night, Wonwoo.” 
Your phone beeps indicating that he’s hung up and you can feel the heartstrings pull inside your chest. How many times will it take for Wonwoo to find someone he actually wants to be with? And why is it never you? 
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act one, favorite crime.
chapter one. 
“Wait, what? You and Wonwoo aren’t dating?” Seungcheol asks you, forcing you into the hot seat. 
The rest of your friend group is boring holes into your face as they all sit around Jeonghan’s living room. The blood rises in your cheeks, but you shake your head anyway. 
It feels like every time you’re with your friends, they ask you the same set of questions. Constantly wondering why you and Wonwoo haven’t thought about dating, or why you two haven’t decided to take the chance and just be together. 
“You guys need to stop asking that. A guy can befriend someone of the opposite gender,” Wonwoo defends the two of you. 
“You’re telling me in all the years you’ve known her, you haven’t developed feelings for her once?” Cheol continues to instigate, and your eyes go wide. 
Looking over at Wonwoo, you anxiously wait for his answer, your chest blooming with hope, only for those buds to be washed away in a millisecond. 
“No, c’mon, we’re just friends. That’s it, right?” Wonwoo turns to you, trying to get you to back him up. 
Your mouth runs dry as he stares at you, his eyebrows rising in anticipation. 
“U-uh yeah, Wonwoo’s right, we’re just friends,” you blurt out, not being able to handle all the expectant eyes on you all at once. 
“See? Now can you all just get off our backs?” he chastises. 
The chatter starts up again, moving past the topic of you and Wonwoo’s friendship. But you sit there, with your heart crushed in your hands, lifeless and shrivelled. Like his words and actions had the power to tear the life out of you. The worst part was that he did all this without knowing. He’s completely oblivious to your feelings, and you only have yourself to blame.
You understand your relationship with Wonwoo is different from most people’s, but at the same time, it should be normal for a girl and a guy to just be friends. And at least you respect Wonwoo’s feelings, and you also respect that whenever he’s dating someone the dynamic between you two shifts. 
He becomes more detached when he’s in a relationship, and you’re okay with that. His priorities change and you’re okay with that. Despite your feelings for him, you know that you can’t force him to feel the same way. And you should be okay with that. 
You’ve never tried to get in the way of his love life, or purposefully give him bad advice to ruin what he has with someone else. Not since you were seventeen, and at that time in your life your frontal lobe was a measly speck of dust, but it's different now. Now, your morals don’t change just because you love him, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less to see the person you’re in love with, fall in love with someone else. 
two. 
“Hey, you okay?” Seokmin approaches you, and you turn your head, acknowledging his presence. 
“Huh? Yeah, I’m alright,” you mutter, but you know you don’t look that way. 
Seokmin has known you since high school and has seen you through everything, probably more than Wonwoo. He knows when you’re not feeling well. A sympathetic permanent on his lips as he continues to observe you play with the food on your plate, pushing around the food aimlessly but never taking a bite. 
The sounds of people conversing throughout the dining hall never die down. But luckily, the commotion keeps your thoughts of Wonwoo at bay, or at least that’s what you like to think. But your heart can’t seem to let go of that moment from the other day. Having Seungcheol confirm that Wonwoo has never felt anything romantically for you was like a stab in the stomach, and him getting you to back up his words was just him twisting the knife. 
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You can tell me,” he sighs, pushing the hair covering your face and placing it behind your ear. 
You can feel the tears start to pool, but you try your damndest not to let them spill—not like this, not in front of so many people. 
“It was just something Wonwoo said when we were all at Hannie’s house,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact with your friend. 
“What did he say?” 
“That he’s never liked me before,” you sigh, feeling a tear slip from your eye. 
Cursing yourself in your head, you hate how much your feelings for him affect you. You hate how he doesn’t have to even be in front of you, yet he can still cause your emotions to fluctuate. 
“It’s alright,” he coos, pulling you into his strong arms. 
It felt weird, to hug Seokmin so tightly in the middle of your university’s dining hall. But you’re thankful for how aware he is, how he actually cares about your feelings. You felt melodramatic sitting there crying in the fucking dining hall of all places, but you couldn’t help but let your tears flow as Seokmin comforts you with his soft voice. 
“You deserve more than this, I hope you know that,” he whispers in your ear.
three. 
Over the next few days, the words Seokmin had whispered to you kept replaying in your head. You did deserve better and looking at all of Wonwoo’s past relationships is the perfect example. He’s not exactly the ideal boyfriend, so why did you even have feelings for him in the first place?
You could feel a migraine coming on from how hard you were thinking, but Wonwoo still seems to be the only person you can’t let go of. No matter how many times you’ve tried. 
A knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts. It was late, and you don’t remember anyone messaging you saying that they were going to come over, but you open the door anyway. 
“Hey, sorry I didn’t text,” Wonwoo moves past you, takes his shoes off, and plops on your couch. 
“It’s okay, what’s up?” you move to sit beside him. 
“I broke up with her,” He says, shrugging. 
Taken aback by his nonchalance, your eyes widen. He seems calm for someone who has just broken up with his girlfriend. But you try not to think too hard about it, or you might just have to take another Advil to remedy your already growing headache. 
“Well, how did it go?” you ask with a bit of apprehension. 
Knowing Wonwoo, you knew that he probably just dumped her over the phone or something. He’s never been bothered to really break up with someone. 
You have all these examples of why he would probably be the worst boyfriend ever, yet your heart still belongs to him. It’s pitiful, to say the least, people probably would think that you’re a masochist because you subject yourself to staying by his side when he has feelings for another. 
“She was crying, but at least it’s over now,” Wonwoo informs you as he eats the snacks you had left on your coffee table. 
“Oh.” You could feel the guilt start to seep into your veins. 
It never felt good to hear Wonwoo talk about his breakups, but you’re not sure how to react. There’s a part of you that’s happy to know that he’s single again, but the majority of you pities the girl who had just gotten her heart broken. 
Wonwoo continues to munch on the snacks left on your table while your mind tries to process the information you’ve been given. Hearing him talk so casually about his breakup leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but you decide to switch topics instead of asking any more questions. 
“Are you still going to Seokmin’s thing this weekend, though?” you ask him, trying to fill the air with something to drown out your rapid heartbeats. 
He shrugs his shoulders, “If I feel like it. Are you?” 
The bottom of your stomach tightens. You were hoping that he would go, even looking forward to it. Is that pathetic? To want to see him everywhere you go? Maybe you were pathetic to the point where you only felt like hanging out with your friends if he was there. 
“I mean, I don’t have a ride so
” you trail off, pretending to pay attention to whatever was playing on the T.V. screen. 
“I’ll go since you’re going, that way you have a ride,” he mumbles, adjusting his posture to lean back on your couch. 
He sighs as he sinks into the plush cushions, spreading his legs while he puts his arms up. You’re very aware of his proximity, and you try not to let it show. But the smell of his cologne invades your senses, knocking the breath out of your chest. 
Wonwoo’s arm circles your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and forcing your head to rest delicately on his broad shoulder. Exhaling, you let yourself enjoy his way of showing affection. Although to him it means nothing, and to you, quite literally everything. 
“Thank you for agreeing to go to Seokmin’s so I have a ride,” you whisper but still avoid eye contact so he doesn’t notice your flustered expression. 
“Thank you for letting me barge in here just so I can talk about my breakup,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head. 
“Of course, what are best friends for?” 
four. 
Most people fall in love gradually, slowly growing feelings for the person before they can even call it love. Like the way the seasons steadily turned from winter to spring. Green grass peeking from underneath the melting snow, or flowers gently blooming and unravelling their new set of stems and petals. For you, it was different.
 Falling in love with Wonwoo wasn’t gradual at all. 
If anything, falling in love with Wonwoo felt like a snowstorm in the middle of a sunny day. Your affection for him grew rapidly, and before you knew it, your mind was clouded with him and him only. It became hard to stay rational as if you were driving down a snow-filled road without any control over the steering wheel. Swerving into different lanes, your brakes malfunction, making it hard to bring your car to a full stop. Falling in love with Wonwoo was not gradual or easy.
When you met him on the first day of your junior year of high school, your sixteen-year-old brain couldn’t fully comprehend your crush on him. He was the shy, scrawny new kid in your class, and no one paid mind to him except you. But that didn’t stop you from liking him. Despite his interest in collecting pokĂ©mon cards and his crooked glasses that were too big for his face, you were in love. 
You were like two peas in a pod that whole year, and the only time you and Wonwoo spent time apart was when he had to leave during summer break to visit family in Korea. 
When he returned for your senior year, you could barely recognize him. Suddenly the nerdy Wonwoo you knew was gone. His glasses complimented his face, his hair was styled differently, and most of all, he got hot. A lot of your classmates must’ve seemed to agree because now your best friend and the man you’re in love with gained attention from people who didn’t even bat an eyelash at him last year. 
It annoyed you to see all these people suddenly interested in him. You were angry that just because he grew a few inches and learned to do his hair didn’t mean he was that much different from how he was last year. 
Even though Wonwoo was in a relationship, he still stayed true to your friendship. He still hung out with you, ate lunch with you, you even came over on weekends to have dinner with his family. Day by day, your love for him strengthened, and you ignored that his attention had been divided between you and his girlfriend at the time. 
When their relationship hit three months, it seemed your friendship had come to an abrupt halt. He didn’t invite you for dinner as often, you two didn’t talk on the phone every other night. He started to invest more of his time into her until he decided she wasn’t worth his energy anymore. Then the calls would come, his contact name flashing across your phone screen to ask you for advice. 
“I feel like I need to break up with Haein,” his deep voice flowed through your phone speaker. A sigh left his lips as he faced the truth. 
Haein was Wonwoo’s first girlfriend. She was nice, almost too nice. Wonwoo definitely had a type for girls with a bubbly personality. Ones that were effortlessly beautiful, reminiscent of a freshly made porcelain doll. That was Haein to you, unblemished in every way possible. Everything that you weren’t.
You couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. She was too nice to hate, but your younger self was so angry at how much of Wonwoo's time she took up that you envied her. Seokmin once jokingly mentioned that you looked especially green when she was around, and you remember how quickly you checked your appearance on the nearest reflective surface because of what he had said in passing. You remember vividly how nervous his words made you, was it that obvious?
Wonwoo’s first time calling you about his breakup plans was a delightful surprise, and you were too in shock to sputter out a proper response.
“Oh. Why?” was all you could say, still stunned that after a week of no contact, this was the first thing he said. 
“‘Dunno, I just don’t like her anymore,” he admitted effortlessly. 
You didn’t know how to respond. Your heart was screaming at you to encourage him to break up with his girlfriend at the time, while your brain was telling you to think logically. 
“Well, if that’s what you think is right,” you mumbled, trying to hide the fact that you felt a sense of relief at Wonwoo potentially being single again. 
Others may have tried to rationalize with Wonwoo, but you didn’t care. You wanted your friendship with him to turn back to normal. Your adolescent brain ignored that it was wrong to encourage him, as long as he was fully yours again.
History repeated itself over and over, and the older you got, you learnt to not be so selfish with his attention. Mostly out of guilt for the person he was going to break up with, but also because you didn’t want Wonwoo to realize your true feelings. 
Although being in love with Wonwoo was brutal, you constantly wished that things were different between you two, but they weren’t. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, and as your friendship with him progressed, you had begun to learn to mask your romantic feelings for platonic ones. 
five. 
By the time you entered university, you had mastered the art of pretending. As if your feelings for Wonwoo didn’t exist. You are quite meticulous in ensuring that he never realizes that you are profoundly in love with him. The mere thought of him finding out how you truly felt frightened you. 
You’ve already envisioned countless scenarios on how it could go. The idea of being rejected by the one you love most. It would change everything about your friendship with him.  The look of pity in his eyes, the apologies that would spill out of his mouth. You can't bear even the thought of rejection. Not from him. 
Two voices are constantly at war inside your mind. Your brain, acting as the voice of reason, constantly reminds you that it’s better to preserve your friendship. To keep the dynamic you’ve always had with Wonwoo guarded where it could last, thrive. While your heart persuaded you with deluded, fake scenarios. 
‘What if he likes you back?’ 
‘You never know until you try.’ 
‘Take the risk or lose the chance.’ 
What if. 
Like a siren to a sailor, your heart sang with deep imagery. Filling your thoughts with illusions of you and Wonwoo finally together. But your mind doesn’t let you go without a fight. It knows that beyond the deep waters where your siren-voiced heart lies is nothing but a bottomless pit. 
The possibilities are endless, and you’d rather stay safely grounded in your boat of rationality. 
A notification brings you out of your thoughts. Although you already knew that it was Wonwoo, you scramble to pick up your phone. There’s excitement laced in your veins as you look down at the screen. 
7:06 p.m. [wons <3]: be there in 5. 
There was no reason for you to be so ecstatic but you couldn’t help it. He had already texted you prior, notifying you that he was leaving his place to come pick you up, and yet every time your phone buzzes, you still hope that it’s something completely different. But that was your heart talking; you knew that it wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. 
Everyone had planned to meet at Seokmin’s place today, just to have one last celebration before midterms began again. You had happily agreed, enthusiastic that you could spend more time with Wonwoo, although it wouldn’t be a one-on-one thing. You were more than elated to see him while also being able to hang out with the rest of your friends. 
Throwing your phone back on the bed, you change into an outfit that is both cute and comfortable. There wasn’t a reason to dress up when the vibe at Seokmin’s was just going to be sitting around his living room, drinking cocktails and eating pizza. 
Wonwoo texts you once more to let you know he’s outside, causing you to race down to meet him. A lump in your throat arises, as he comes into your field of vision, appreciating how breathtakingly handsome he is. 
The chilled breeze brushes through the strands of his hair, glasses perched on his tall nose. He looked amazing, just like he always had, but you never get bored of admiring him. Even if it’s just from afar. 
“Hi! Sorry if I kept you waiting,” your voice resounds into the night. 
“It's never a problem if it’s you,” he chuckles as you dawdle over to the passenger side of his car. 
Trying not to read too deep into his words, you snort at his cheesy line instead of giving a response. Watching Wonwoo move to the side as he opens the car door for you. His actions make you blush, and you know you’ll think about it for the rest of the night. 
“Are you ready to go?” he asks, smiling at you. 
The ride to Seokmin’s house is fairly quiet, the sounds of music filling the silence instead. Your thoughts are overflowing with scenarios once again, wondering how different the car ride would be if you and Wonwoo were in a relationship. His fingers would probably be laced with yours, or rubbing soothingly against your thigh while his other hand gripped the steering wheel. Planting kisses on your cheeks at every red light. It seemed like heaven on the other side. But you knew reality would crush your delusions soon enough. 


  The clock on Seokmin’s pale white wall is nearing midnight and you don’t want to be here anymore. Not when the only thing you could focus on was Wonwoo flirting with a girl whose name you didn’t catch. She’s Joshua’s childhood friend and he only brought her along because she’s visiting from out of town. Whoever she was, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to you was the fact that she was able to bring out Wonwoo’s deep laugh. The kind of laugh that only befalls upon your ears when he finds something genuinely funny.
The ugly swirl of jealousy sits in the pit of your stomach and you couldn't help but scoff at your wretched situation. It made you sick watching them, and you could throw up any minute now. At this point, you weren’t sure who to envy, Wonwoo or the girl he was flirting with. You find it unfair that he doesn’t realize how greatly he can impact your feelings. 
Just a few hours ago, you were in utter bliss. Sitting in the front seat of his car, listening to the music softly playing on the ride to Seokmin’s apartment. Making stupid jokes and pointing out the random sights that you had seen while driving down the bustling city streets. You envy how easy it is for Wonwoo to make all those feelings of delight vanish. And he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know what he’s doing to you, and that’s what hurts the most. 
“You doing okay?” Seokmin comes up to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. 
“Huh? Oh. Yeah I’m okay,” you chuckle, but there’s nothing humorous about your laugh at all. 
His eyes soften, he knows that you’re not okay. Seokmin always knew. After all these years, he can tell when you’re trying to save face. There’s a lump in your throat, and if you didn’t have a drink to sip on to distract you, you probably would’ve gone to the bathroom to cry. 
“You wanna talk in my room?” he offers, and you’re grateful. 
Seokmin knew he had to get you somewhere other than the living room. You were practically torturing yourself, sitting on the couch and watching Wonwoo talk to everyone but you. 
Instead of agreeing vocally, you nod your head before standing up to follow Seokmin to his room. The door shuts softly, muffling the sounds of laughter and allowing your uneasiness to finally subside. 
As you sit on Seokmin’s bed, you feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks. It feels pathetic, crying over something so trivial. Why does it have to be you who feels this way? Why can’t you just be a normal friend and see Wonwoo in a platonic light? The whole world could turn upside and he’d be the first person you search for. 
Everything just seemed so unfair, how could you possibly be happy if your feelings for Wonwoo were constantly in the way of it all? It’s tiring, worrying about him, yearning for him. You could do so many other things with your time, and when you look toward the future, you know that you’ll regret how much of your life you wasted loving someone who doesn’t love you back. 
“It’s okay, just let it out,” Seokmin whispers in your ear, embracing you in a tight hug. 
Crying felt good. You rarely cry over your situation despite how upsetting it is. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to finally indulge in your sadness and let go of everything you were too afraid to say or feel.  
“I know it sucks right now, but honestly, it might be time to get over him,” Seokmin continues to comfort you while trying to help you face the reality of your situation. “You’re so hurt, and it’s taking a toll on you. Please, I can’t bear to see you so sad.” 
His words hit you hard because you know it's true. But all you can do is apologize. Saying sorry for feeling this way, even though it’s not your fault, you cannot control your feelings, you still apologize. To Seokmin, to your friends, but also yourself. 
“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccup, tears staining Seokmin’s white shirt. 
“Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong,” he mutters, his large hand patting your head, trying to soothe your fit of emotions. 
“Because, if I was normal, you wouldn’t have to worry about me, about why I’m always upset, you and the others, my feelings are burdening all of you,” you continue to weep softly in his arms, gripping onto his shoulders as his hands encircle your waist. 
“Hey, look at me–” he grabs your face, gentle as a mouse, rubbing away the tears from your cheeks. “You are not a burden. We care, that’s why we worry, and I just want to be there for you.” 
“Thank you, Seokmin. I’m so happy that I have someone like you in my life,” you pull him into a hug again, knocking the air out of his chest, but he’s still somehow able to hug you even tighter. 
Seokmin is like your favourite childhood blanket, keeping you warm and away from everything that could possibly hurt you. He’s always willing to hear you rant about things that you know you could never tell Wonwoo. 
“I’m so tired, I’m tired of feeling like this,” you admit to him. 
Running his hands through your hair, he gives you a reassuring smile. 
“Maybe it’s time to distance yourself from him a bit, you two have been glued to the hip for so long. Maybe that distance can help organize your feelings better,” he mutters, catching the stray tears that pool at your chin, and wiping them away for you. 
“I want to feel better,” you agree with him, still trying to recover from how hard you were sobbing into his chest. 
“I care about you, okay? We all do. Wonwoo cares about you, too, but there’s a point where you’ll have to be okay with whatever outcome happens if you decide to tell him how you feel. Or you just have to find a way to get over him,” he speaks softly, trying not to crush your heart with reality, but you know he’s right. “In the Future, you will thank yourself for making whatever decision you have to make, but trust me, holding all these feelings in won’t do you any good.” He ends his pep talk there, and you sigh, trying to process everything he said. 
“Thank you, Minnie, I’m so thankful I have you,” you sniffled. 
“And I you.” 


Seokmin explained to Soonyoung and Jihoon that you needed to go home after your talk in his bedroom. They were more than happy to take you along with them before heading back to their place, not wanting to force you into a car with Wonwoo at the end of the night. 
“Of course, it’s really no trouble at all,” Soonyoung reassures you after you had asked about a million times if it was okay to ride home with them. 
The car ride is drastically different from the one you had taken on the way to Seokmin’s, Soonyoung being the number one reason why. He’s not the best at reading the room, although Jihoon is constantly telling him to shut up. He knows you are upset over something, but Soonyoung’s way of cheering you up is getting you to laugh. While Jihoon believed that you may want a more peaceful environment after everything that happened. 
As Jihoon drove, Soonyoung sang along with the lyrics of the current song playing. Loud enough for anyone outside the car to hear him. You could tell he was a bit tipsy after the few beers he had earlier, but you didn’t mind the noise. Jihoon begged to differ. 
“Soon, can you tone it down? Please. People are looking at us,” Jihoon grumbles, trying to focus on the road ahead. 
“But you love it when I sing,” Soonyoung whines, and you can’t help but laugh. 
“I do, but our friend has had a long night,” Jihoon counters. 
Soonyoung turns to face you from the passenger seat. “If you want me to be quiet, I will.” 
“No, it’s okay, I’m actually enjoying it, thank you very much,” you giggle, and that was all the confirmation he needed, going back to his antics. 
Jihoon groans as Soonyoung practically breaks out into full song and dance, causing you to sing along with him. This distraction from all the conflicting thoughts gives you a refuge from the war inside your mind.  
The whole way back to your place was filled with singing and laughter, allowing you to finally feel at ease for once. Albeit Jihoon pretended to act annoyed the whole time, you knew he secretly loved how Soonyoung tried to bring the mood back up to help you. 
Once you got home, you thanked the two before bidding them farewell. Apprehension flowed throughout you, and you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts after being around someone as cheerful as Soonyoung. But you didn’t know where else to go or what else to do.
Laying in your bed, you think about how today went from beginning to end, and you’re scared of what will happen in the future. Sighing to yourself, you allow yourself to at least get some rest instead of staying up all night thinking about the possibilities of tomorrow. Turning your phone on "do not disturb," the stillness in your apartment lulls you to sleep. 
1:09 a.m. [wons <3]: seokmin said u went home early? u ok? 
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ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?
chapter one. 
Wonwoo’s ride home was sombre, yet desolate. Your absence from his passenger seat irked him. Street lights whisk by his vision in a blur, but he’s too lost in his thoughts as he drives on autopilot, wondering why you went home so early. You didn’t even say goodbye. It’s the first time you went home from Seokmin’s place without him. 
By the time he got home, his curiosity had started to claw at him, but he didn’t want to be irrational and assume the worst. So he texted you, hoping that there would be an explanation awaiting him in the morning. 
Not a single notification from you came that very next morning. No matter how many times his phone went off, no matter how many notifications popped up from his screen. None of them were you. Morning turned to afternoon, and afternoon slowly turned into night. Still nothing. 
He feels dejected. Everything seemed to be going okay just last night. That was until you abruptly left without telling him you were going home. What changed? Why did it feel like there was a shift between you two? 
Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo. Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the breakup and lose feelings first; every decision he made was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 
Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up at your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been. 
Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his best friend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it. 

 
Less than forty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence was perfectly normal, then maybe you would eventually end up answering him. 
12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?
Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them? 
1:27 p.m.  [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁
Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond. 
2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.  [1 photo attachment] 
Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.
4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today? 
The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he has witnessed. 
4:30 p.m.  [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw. 
Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin, of all people, solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back. 
Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he could keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up. 
two, wonwoo’s summer before senior year. 
The school year flew by with the speed of light. And before Wonwoo knew it, he was home back in Korea for the summer. The dreaded fifteen-hour plane ride over was excruciating. There was an ache in his lower back, and his knees felt like they were being struck by a hammer with every step he took. But at least the worst part was over. 
Sixteen-year-old Wonwoo was quite naive, thinking that he’d be welcomed into his home country with loving arms. That hadn’t been the case at all, and for the two months that he spent in Changwon, he couldn’t help but count the days till he could come back home. Where you had been patiently waiting for him. 
He despised being away from you, and he had yearned for you every moment he was gone. With you by his side, Wonwoo had finally understood the true meaning of solace, a peace of mind that couldn’t be replicated. Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.
Every year that Wonwoo was dragged back to Korea by his parents was excruciating. Especially because he had a certain distaste for his relatives. Maybe it was disrespectful to loathe them the way he did, but he couldn’t care less. Their scathing comments would flow out of their mouths just to pierce daggers of judgement into his back. To insult Wonwoo was second nature to his aunts, and he couldn’t do much but sit back and listen.  
Much to his dismay, his parents hadn’t even bothered to book an Airbnb for their stay, informing him and his brother that they would be staying with his aunt. He couldn’t stand his aunt Seo-Ah in particular, and he swore the feeling was mutual. Unsure of why he had to withstand her crude remarks in front of his family without much protest, he forced himself not to dish out rude rebuttals to everything she had to say. 
There was a time when Wonwoo tried to reason with himself on why his aunt was filled with so much bitterness, but he gave up on that long ago. He was about to be seventeen now, and he couldn’t bring himself to empathize with the older lady anymore. 
“Wonwoo! You’re all grown up now, and I can’t believe it,” Seo-Ah forced him into a bone-crushing hug as he tried his best not to push her off of him. She pulled back to take a closer look at him and he could already see the scrutinizing gleam in her eyes, “You know, you’re still so skinny for your age. Do your parents not feed you enough?” 
Wonwoo wanted to scoff at her, but he kept a neutral expression. 
“No they do, I don’t know maybe it’s my fast metabolism or something,” he refuted her claims. He couldn’t wait to get out of her sight. 
“You know, maybe you should start going to the gym, get some muscle on you or something,” she patted his lanky arm and laughed that dreadful laugh. The ones that have no real humour behind it, just to cover up the obvious dig she took at his appearance. 
“Yeah maybe,” he dismisses her to head into the house. Setting his luggage down to check whether or not you’ve texted him yet. 
It was about five in the evening in Changwon, but he knew you wouldn’t be asleep. Faintly recalling how you were planning to stay up late every night to watch BuzzFeed unsolved videos, or until your mom yelled at you to go to bed. 
[4:15 p.m. kst]  [you: i stayed up all night watching buzzfeed unsolved]  [you: im going crazy i keep getting paranoid to the point i’ve turned all my mirrors backwards]  [you: hope ur flight was ok tho!!! đŸ«¶]
He chuckled to himself, remembering your wide eyes and elaborate plan to sneak snacks into your room in the early hours of the morning behind your parents’ backs. Wonwoo missed you, and your stupid obsession with horror podcasts and YouTube shows. He missed the way your smile would shine so bright as you talked about all the haunted places the hosts would visit. 
Wonwoo did not care for horror or anything scary, but if you were to ask him to stay up all night on Facetime binge-watching your little Buzzfeed videos, he would do so in a heartbeat. 
Two days down, about another 89 to go, Wonwoo thought to himself as he looked through your messages with him. You had already spammed the chat mercilessly about your first two days of summer break, and your intricate mission to stay up without accidentally falling asleep in the middle of it all. 
[6:00 p.m. kst] [1 photo attachment]  [you: currently trying to sneak snacks into my room without my mom knowing]  [you: u better not snitch đŸ˜Ÿ]  [you: its so boring w out u here btw SO COME BACK SOON PLSS]  [you: ok thats enuff
txt me when u land!]
Wonwoo really missed you. 


One more week and Wonwoo would finally get to see you again. The ability to talk to you in person, hug you, and spend time with you gave him something to look forward to, and thankfully, summer break went by fast because of it. 
He had spent most of his time in Korea eating at local food spots, going to the gym, and trying a lot of new things with his brother, Seongho, giving them time to bond before he went off to University again. Wonwoo had missed his brother dearly during the school year, but at least they were able to pass the time together during summer break. 
It was initially his brother’s convincing that got him to go to the gym for the very first time. The idea of going to a place with a lot of sweaty, adrenaline-filled people kind of frightened him, but the more he went, the more he started to like what he saw in the mirror. Wonwoo’s shoulders had broadened, and his lanky arms finally started to show signs of muscles. He was satisfied in knowing that all of his hard work, and Seongho’s encouragement had finally paid off. 
Seongho told him he looked a lot more carefree now that he wasn’t so worried about his appearance all the time. And it was then that Wonwoo realized that he wasn’t all that bad-looking, after all. 
Wonwoo had begun to take pride in his vanity. He searched for different ways to style his hair, bought glasses that better suited his face shape, and, most of all, did his best to act more confidently. The sudden change made him wonder how you would react. He had been anticipating your reaction, wanting to see the look on your face once he returned home. 
“You got it. Just one more rep, and we can switch,” Seongho encouraged Wonwoo as he tried to push the bar up from his chest. 
His muscles were aching in the most addictive and satisfying way. He almost wished he had started working out earlier because only good things seemed to have come ever since he stepped foot into the gym. 
“Okay! You’re done, that was good,” his older brother high-fived him, a proud smile dancing along his lips. 
“Thanks, but my arms feel like jelly now,” he huffed a chuckle before gulping down the contents of his water bottle. 
Seongho chuckled along with him before setting himself down on the workout bench. His actions faltered, and he slowly observed the mirror in front of him, raising his eyebrows in amusement. 
“Uh, don’t look now, but I think that girl is staring at you,” Seongho tilted his head in the girl’s direction and Wonwoo couldn’t be more confused. 
“Huh? Are you sure it's me they’re looking at and not you?” 
“I’m serious! You should go talk to her,” Seongho grinned, pushing his younger brother in the direction of the girl who was supposedly eyeing Wonwoo. 
“Hyung!” Wonwoo calls out but it falls on deaf ears as his older brother begins his bench presses. 
Wonwoo turns towards the girl in the most awkward way humanly possible. He was completely dumbfounded and not sure what to do in the situation he’d been put in. The girl who was staring at him waved flirtatiously, and before he could even think about his next move, his feet had begun to move on their own accord. 
“Hi, I saw you working out over there, are you new here?” she asked him, batting her eyelashes. 
“Uhm, I guess? I’m only here for the summer though,” he spoke with apprehension, because what the hell was he even supposed to say? 
“Oh! Me too. My name is Haein, by the way.” Haein’s smile reached her eyes as she giggled, and her hand extended to shake Wonwoo’s. 
Wonwoo’s actions were practically robotic, rubbing his sweaty palms on his gym shorts before taking her hand in his. He remembers thinking about how soft her hands were, and how pretty she looked with her hair tied up in a messy bun. 
“I’m Wonwoo.” 
“Wonwoo, hmm, that’s a cute name. But I think I would like it more in my contacts,” she flirted shamelessly, her fingers squeezing his sweaty bicep. 
Wonwoo’s mind short-circuited, and he took out his phone from his pocket so fast it almost slipped out of his grasp. Haein found it endearing though, and happily gave him her phone number. 
They talked for the rest of Wonwoo's time at the gym and promised to hang out more before they both went home at the end of the summer. 
To put it simply, Wonwoo was on cloud nine for the first time since he’s been here. Suddenly his aunt Seo-Ah’s words weren’t so hurtful, his confidence had skyrocketed, plus he had a beautiful girl to talk to for the rest of his vacation. 
By the end of summer, Wonwoo started to miss you less and less. Even though he still saw you as his best friend, he began to find peace in other things, like the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown. Finally, for the first time in his life, Wonwoo felt serene, and that made him a little more whole than he was when he first landed in Changwon. 


The after-effects of Wonwoo’s surprisingly pleasant summer vacation hadn’t worn off just yet. The gift of Haein appearing in his life seemed to just keep on giving. Not only did she live overseas, she had told him that she was actually from the same city as him. It was a little hard to believe at first as if he was the main character in a cheesy rom-com, but he couldn’t find it in him to complain. Haein made him feel wanted, excited, and cared for. 
Wonwoo wasn’t entirely devoid of those feelings, especially with you as his best friend, but it was different coming from Haein. Every time he saw her, he felt like he was going to throw up, in a good way of course, but she also boosted his confidence. He liked that she made him feel like he was a man worth depending on. 
Haein was his first real relationship, and although he was still young, he could see himself being with her for a long time. 


Quite like the seasons, Wonwoo’s feelings for Haein changed drastically by the time school was back in session. Although he and Haein lived in the same city, there was a lot more than just distance that separated them. 
Six months into their relationship, Wonwoo began to doubt himself. He was less eager to meet her or even text her. He could only blame himself for how things turned out with Haein. Despite his adolescence, he believed he loved her; he just got tired and disinterested. 
On a subconscious level, Wonwoo could not stop comparing Haein to you, and as fucked up as that was, it was completely out of his control. Why didn’t Haein ever want to talk about what Wonwoo was interested in? Why did she seem bored out of her mind when he would delve into his theories about his favourite shows? Or anything about himself and what he liked. As though she didn’t see him for the Wonwoo he was, the personality he had behind his looks. 
“It all makes sense now! Eren had Zeke fooled!” Wonwoo couldn’t contain his excitement about the newest episode, but Haein didn’t seem interested in hearing her boyfriend geek out. 
“I'm sorry babe, but I gave up after the first episode,” Haein sighed into the phone, and if Wonwoo could guess, she was probably picking at her cuticles out of boredom. “I just didn’t get anything that was happening.” 
“Wait, really?” He was a little offended, how could she not be obsessing over the beautiful intricacies of his favourite anime? Wonwoo didn’t understand. 
He didn’t understand because when he introduced you to the show, you texted him the next day saying you were caught up to where he had left off. It amazed Wonwoo how fast you were at binge-watching shows, especially because he had told you about it on a weekday. 
You came into school the morning after with dark circles under your eyes, but even with that tired look on your face, you ran up to him with so much eagerness while thanking him for urging you to watch his favourite show. You two were obsessed and never missed out on watching the weekly episodes together.  It had become you and Wonwoo’s thing, and even though he wanted Haein to join in on the fun, he found himself more entertained by your theories than by talking on the phone with his girlfriend. 
It dawned on him that he wished that Haein acted a little more like you. And it made him feel guilty. He knew he should’ve loved Haein no matter her interests, but he wanted someone who could understand his nerdy side. And that was only something that you were able to do. 
“Honestly, I’m really tired, I’m gonna go to bed now okay?” Haein’s voice brought Wonwoo out of his thoughts. 
“Oh okay. Night.” He said before ending the call so quickly that Haein’s ‘I love you’ was cut off mid-sentence. 
Haein probably had thought he had forgotten, but Wonwoo just didn’t want to say those words if he didn’t mean it. He had grown annoyed, and a little bored of practically talking to a wall all night.  
Comparable to the light switching off in his bedroom, he decided to do the same thing with Haein. He pushed his guilt aside and decided it was probably best to leave Haein and Changwon in the past. The memories of his last week of summer with her would become something he would look back on in the future and smile. But he didn’t want to pretend any longer, it would’ve just hurt her more if he stayed, he couldn’t help that he fell out of love with her. The least he could do was not lead her on. 
Wonwoo’s relationship with Haein was merely a catalyst and a peek into what the rest of his relationships were going to look like in adulthood. He was never able to comprehend why he couldn’t keep feelings for anyone after the six-month mark, and it almost frustrated him. Something was missing in every single relationship he had been in, and he wasn’t sure what that was. But he was determined to find an answer. 
three, present time.
The answer was you. But of course, Wonwoo didn’t know that. 
“Are you gonna keep checking your phone every five minutes or are you gonna do your homework?” Mingyu lectures him. 
The two were studying in the library before their stats midterm, but Wonwoo’s mind couldn’t help but wonder. He hasn’t been acting like himself since the night of Seokmin’s party. 
“Oh, right.” Wonwoo clears his throat, putting his phone face down on the table. 
Wonwoo drags his palms against his face, trying to not let sleep overtake him. It is not his fault that every time he tries to close his eyes, your face comes into his mind. The memory of you smiling with Seokmin made his insides twist. He hasn’t seen you smile that hard in a while, and he almost misses how your eyes crinkle whenever you do so. You were practically haunting him and he had no idea how to make it stop. 
“Not to be rude, but you’ve been looking like shit lately. What’s wrong?” Mingyu questions him with furrowed eyebrows. 
Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his friend, he didn’t have to be insulted to know how crappy he looked, but Mingyu seemed to only be telling the truth. Wonwoo did look and feel like shit. With the amount of near run-ins he’s had with you and Seokmin on campus, he’s begun to sense that it’s some sort of karma. Whatever that karma may be for, he fully believes that it’s completely unwarranted. 
Forcing a hand through his dark locks, Wonwoo contemplates whether or not he should just go up to you in person and demand answers. It’s uncommon for the two of you to fight, or ignore each other for that matter. But he can’t help but presume that if he were to confront you about your silence, there would be no rightful explanation. Or at least not the explanation that he wants from you. 
Every time he even fathoms the thought of barging into your apartment and asking what the hell is wrong, there’s a lingering nervousness that he wishes would dissipate, leading him to lay awake with his thoughts for hours on end. 
“Thanks for that, asshole, I just haven’t been getting much sleep,” Wonwoo huffs. 
“Okay, obviously. You practically look like a zombie with the way you’ve been moping around. What has been keeping you up?” Mingyu presses. 
It’s not every day that Wonwoo indulges in his problems with Mingyu, that’s what you were for. However, he can’t talk about his problems about you, to you, so he’ll have to settle for the next best thing.  
“Y/N has been ignoring me since the night we all hung out at Seokmin’s,” Wonwoo confesses, and it feels nice. 
For the past two weeks, he’s been keeping his frustrations to himself, and now that he can freely speak about it lifts the weight off his chest. 
Mingyu snorts, obviously finding his friend’s situation humorous. Wonwoo sneers at Mingyu’s reaction, clearly not finding anything about you ignoring him funny. 
“Serves you right, you’re a dick to her, man.” Mingyu shrugs without any remorse to spare. 
“What?” Wonwoo sputters, since when was he a dick to you? His best friend? 
“How blind are you? You have glasses and everything but you can’t see how mean you are to her sometimes? Really?” Mingyu almost sounds offended on your behalf as he stares at Wonwoo with an incredulous expression. 
“I am not a dick to her. She would definitely tell me if I’ve ever said something to hurt her feelings,” Wonwoo defends himself. 
Attempting to rack his brain of all your moments together, he can’t seem to pick out a memory where he has been especially rude to you. Of course, you two teased each other from time to time, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. He knew when to not take a joke too far or purposely try to upset you. 
“You’re a dumbass.” Mingyu lets out a frustrated sigh which only aggravates Wonwoo even more. 
“Could you stop with the insults for one second and just tell me what’s going on?” 
Shutting his laptop, Mingyu’s posture becomes serious, a deviation from his usual carefree and smiley self. He cares about you just as much as the next person, so if he had to reality-check his friend, then so be it. 
“She cares about you a lot. And you treat her like shit. It’s not about what you’ve said to her, it’s your actions. Ever since we were in high school all you’ve done is use her to solve your problems. I can’t even blame her for wanting to cut you off. I don’t know what happened at Seokmin’s place for her to realize that, but you don’t deserve her,” Mingyu confesses. 
Soaking up each word that left Mingyu’s mouth, Wonwoo sat in a pool of perplexity. There are so many questions flying through his mind, yet he can’t seem to utter a single word. Is that really how everyone perceives his friendship with you? 
Wonwoo is going to throw up. There's a tightness in his chest and a burning sensation behind his eyes. He wants nothing more than to hear all of this coming from you, not Mingyu. The frustration of wanting to talk to you about this is taking a toll on him, he doesn’t want to believe that Mingyu is telling the truth. 
It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Mingyu gets to know these things about you while Wonwoo is just left in the dark. Did he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him anything? 
Ever since Wonwoo met you, it was evident that he can be quite merciless when it comes to his relationships, but that’s romantic, not platonic. Wonwoo was convinced that he treated you equally because that’s how it's supposed to be. 
Hearing Mingyu talk about his friendship with you in that way caused Wonwoo’s whole world to crash down. And the only thing he can do in moments like these is seek out your comfort, except he can’t anymore. Not only has he been a terrible friend without realizing it, but he’s pushed you so far to the brink that you’d rather ignore him than attempt to hash out what’s been troubling you.
“I-I didn’t know that's how you guys saw our friendship,” Wonwoo falters, clearly taken aback, and still attempting to fully comprehend what’s been said to him. 
“It’s not that we see your friendship with her that way, it is that way. If I was her, I would’ve cut you off a long time ago.” 
“Well, thanks, Gyu. I feel like this could’ve been said before she started ignoring me,” Wonwoo huffs, trying to come up with the words to explain his side.
“It was kinda obvious, man,” Mingyu shrugs. 
“Was it, though? If I had known, I would’ve at least tried to be better,” Wonwoo attests, tired of feeling like the bad guy. 
“How about you just talk to her about it instead of sulking,” Mingyu suggests. 
Desperation hijacked his rational thinking, making Mingyu’s advice sound plausible. Talking to you seemed out of the equation since you started ignoring him; he feared you wouldn’t even answer if he tried to call or show up at your door. But he can’t go on like this, especially now that he knows there is more to your friendship than he had initially thought. 
four. 
For the first time in Wonwoo’s life, he’s unsure about what decision to make. Although he wants nothing more than to knock on your door, his feet stop him from even entering your building. So instead of mucking up the courage to talk to you face to face, he waits inside his car. Without a solid plan, he continues to sit there, biding his time. 
Never has he acted so pathetic in his life, not even for the sake of his relationships. He knows that nothing will come from sitting there, just watching, but before he can even comprehend what he is doing and where he is going, he is already across the street from your place. 
Gripping on the leather of his steering wheel, he just couldn’t help himself. He can’t help but watch your silhouette from your window. The curtains are drawn, but there are glimpses of you walking around. He’s such a fucking loser. What type of person has Wonwoo become that he resorts to stalking you from the front of your building? 
After all that Mingyu has enlightened him on, Wonwoo’s attitude has become less angry and more apologetic. There was a line he pondered crossing, and it practically mocked him. Stepping over that line would mean getting answers from you, demanding to be brought into the light that you had snuffed out from under him. But his uncertainty of the outcome outweighed his decision to do so.
That same apologetic attitude died a fiery death after watching Seokmin leave your apartment. There you were in all your glory, the tiny sleep set clinging onto your body as the wind forced its way into the door of your building. Then there was Seokmin, grinning like a fucking idiot as he waved goodbye. 
“Shit!” Wonwoo grunts as he ducks down, not wanting to blow his cover. His car was visible from where the two of you stood, hoping that you weren’t able to recognize it in the dead of night.  
Boring holes into the back of Seokmin’s head, Wonwoo's guilt diminished, floating away with the cold night breeze. You were fine, and he should’ve known that the root of all his problems started with the name Lee Seokmin. 
The shape of your figure had faded into the confines of your building. Yet Wonwoo can still make out your body through the glass window of your door. He can’t help but gawk at your skimpy attire, your ass practically on display for the whole world to see. The deathly twist in his gut intensifies the more he ponders on what may have happened during Seokmin’s visit. Wonwoo desperately wants to stop thinking about the possibilities, especially because your lack of clothing only fueled that inferno inside his mind. 
He’s never been more annoyed at Seokmin in his entire life, not until today. 
Wonwoo allowed himself to ignore the signs, but only for a moment. But this, this he can’t ignore. Not after what he witnessed. He allowed himself to stay ignorant when it came to your silence because he had been so naive to think that it was your decision. Now that he knows Seokmin had somehow weaselled his way closer to you, Wonwoo had to make sure this plan of his didn’t go on any longer. 


There is a heat inside Wonwoo that, for some reason, he cannot extinguish. The curve and outlines of your body burn in the back of his retinas. No matter how many times he’s tried to put himself to sleep, the image of you is clear as day in his mind.  Sparks crawl their way up his spine, and he desperately wishes that it would just go away. 
There’s a point where Wonwoo gave up on trying to sleep altogether. Thoughts of you, your body, and the oh-so-painful reminder that you’re still ignoring him. How can he sleep with everything going on? What made things worse, was the fact that the one person he wanted to call most likely wouldn’t pick up.
Wonwoo wasn’t the type of person to let his emotions get the better of him, but this abrupt rift that has been torn between you two has him acting out in ways he’s never acted before. 
The urge to grab his phone, to text you, to give it one more try, grows perpetually every second he lies awake. 
One more time. One more attempt. What does he have to lose? 
Wonwoo stands up, pacing around nonsensically, trying to think of what to say. For all he knows, you may not even answer, but there is the urge to hear your voice one more time and see your name pop up on his screen. Wonwoo yearns for you so much so that it supersedes any part of common sense he has left in him. 
[12:52 a.m.]  [wons <3: darling. can we talk? please?]  [not delivered] 
The silence within the four walls of Wonwoo’s bedroom is harrowing. Out of all the outcomes he had considered before he texted you, the outcome of you blocking him was not even on the list. 
Before jumping to some sort of conclusion, Wonwoo’s finger hovers over the call button with skepticism. If you don’t pick up, then that’s it. That would be the definitive answer to all his qualms. 
“The number you have called is not available, please leave a message at the tone,” an automated voice affirmed his suspicions. 
The notification is gut-wrenching, but he can’t just sit here and pretend like it’s okay for you to do this. To decide without any of his input. What kind of friend were you to just drop him like he was nothing but an old toy? How unfair did you have to be to not even try to talk it out before you completely cut him off? 
five. 
Pacing outside the door of your apartment, Wonwoo hasn’t been this nervous in years. He has always been so sure of himself, but it’s almost two in the morning and he’s still continuing to weigh his options. 
It’s either you’ll let him in, and talk for the first time in almost two weeks, or you’ll kick him out before he can step a foot past the door. Desperately, he desires that it be the first option. Losing you over this would break him, and not in the way you would expect. 
He’s already lost his mind. This shouldn’t be the way you two break it off. It won’t be the way you two break it off. Not if Wonwoo has a say in the situation. 
Sweaty palms and white knuckles rasp against the dark oak that barricades himself from you. There’s nothing that Wonwoo wants more than to see your face glowing in front of him. And before he can even get a word out to you, the door whips open. The person on the other side is someone Wonwoo is starting to get really sick of seeing. 
“What the hell are you doing here?” Both Wonwoo and Seokmin speak in unison. 
Scoffing, Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his so-called friend, “I think I should be asking you that. You clearly don’t live here.” 
“Minnie? Is someone at the door?” your voice is as sweet as a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. 
Minnie. Wonwoo almost threw up in his mouth. 
Minnie. The nickname is parallel to nails scraping against a chalkboard. 
“Yeah! Your neighbour just needed to borrow something,” Seokmin goads through a sickly sweet smile, eyes never leaving Wonwoo’s. Without as much as a word of mockery, Seokmin’s expression had said more than his words ever could have. 
Despite his soft demeanour, Wonwoo knew there was something vile hiding under Seokmin’s thick skin. 
A rebuttal to his deception is on the tip of Wonwoo’s tongue, but your melodic voice echoes throughout your home once more. The refute dies within his throat, and he hopes you will come out and see what your “neighbour” is looking for. 
“Okay!” is the only response you give out. The reverberation of the water hitting the shower tiles causes Wonwoo’s stomach to practically lurch out his abdomen. 
“Whatever you’re doing, she’s not gonna fall for it,” Wonwoo jeered, staring at Seokmin with looks that should kill, if he could. 
Seokmin chuckles bitterly, “She already has.” 
There was no need for Wonwoo to put two and two together; he already knew what Seokmin was alluding to. It left a dreadful taste in his mouth. 
Puffing out his chest, Wonwoo takes a step closer towards the man he once considered a close friend. Sizing him up, he knew that Seokmin was the reason for the wedge in your friendship. And Wonwoo had no problem treating him as such. 
“You’re fucking sick, you know that?” Wonwoo practically spits in his face. 
“I could say the same thing for you,” Seokmin mutters, unperturbed, “I didn’t have to do anything you know? Just a little push and she fell into my lap, voluntarily.” 
“I’m not just going to let you get away with something like this. She’s my best friend.” 
“I think the correct tense is was. She was your best friend,” Seokmin taunted. 
He was wrong about Seokmin. Even though he had known about his friend's crush on you for years, Wonwoo didn’t expect the lengths Seokmin would go to in order to cut him out of the picture. 
Before a breath could even escape his lips, Seokmin cuts him off, “I think it’s time for you to leave. She doesn’t want to see you.”
The last few words that he heard come out of Seokmin’s mouth nearly fell on deaf ears. It was practically a whisper, laced with enough malice to almost kill the fighting spirit inside him. Almost. 
“By the way, don’t text her anymore. I’ve made sure she won’t get any more notifications from you.” 
The realization had struck Wonwoo hard. He knew you well enough that you wouldn’t just block him so carelessly, without a word no less. Yet he was no match for Seokmin, not after the fact that you allowed him into your home, your heart, so willingly. 


Lying in wait, Wonwoo observes the door of your building once more. The distinct difference this time was that Wonwoo had no guilt left in him to care. Whether you see him or his car across the street didn’t matter to him anymore. The only thing Wonwoo wanted to make sure of was whether or not Seokmin would be leaving your place. 
After what had felt like hours, he watched the same scene from last night unfold in front of him once more. The abhorrent hug goodbye that is exchanged between you and Seokmin is nothing but a cue for Wonwoo to make his move.
With as much grace as a bull in a china shop, he slams the car door shut, not even bothering to lock it before he stalks his way to your apartment. The anticipation caused the hairs on his neck to stand straight up. As he presses the button to your floor, he can only deliberate whether any of Seokmin’s words hold any truth behind them.
 Certainly not, right? Not after all the years you spent together. His friendship with you couldn’t end on this vague note. You were always the sentimental type, holding onto trinkets, memories, and even people for far too long. It should be the same with Wonwoo; he believed it would be the same. 
If there is a chance, you should allow him to talk and voice his opinion. No, Wonwoo will voice his opinion; there has never been a time when you haven’t let him speak. 
As the elevator ascends to your floor, anxiety begins to weigh down his shoulders. The feeling is atypical and Wonwoo hates how his throat constricts. He hates how his clothes feel too tight and stuffy despite his casual attire. Is this how it feels? To actually care about someone and whether their decisions might affect him later on? 
Footsteps echo within the hallway, and with each step he takes, the illusion steadily becomes more vivid. Your front door almost looks like it’ll take a mile before Wonwoo can reach it, rather than a few feet away. 
After what felt like years, Wonwoo stands before the entrance of your home once more. The foreboding tension won’t vanish and it’s starting to make him itch. Without another thought, Wonwoo forces himself to knock on the door knowing it’ll be you who answers this time, not Seokmin. 
“Minnie? Did you leave something agai—,” Abrupt silence engulfs your words, leaving nothing but an echo to resonate within the expanse of your long hallway.
“Wonwoo
” your voice falters, like you genuinely didn’t expect to see him, let alone have him standing outside your door. 
“Did you fuck him?” Wonwoo cuts to the chase, not leaving any room for you to ask questions. 
His blunt words caused a frown to grace your soft pink lips, and Wonwoo almost felt bad for being so frank. But he doesn’t have time to beg for your forgiveness, the anger surmounting to nothing but harsh words and a push past you and into your home. 
“Did you fuck him? Yes or no?”  Wonwoo continues to press you for answers, agitated that you have the audacity to stand there dumbfounded. As if you don’t know who he's talking about. “C’mon, you know who I’m talking about,” he can almost laugh at the situation in front of him. 
How is it that all the rage he built up for Seokmin is being taken out on you? Wonwoo had no clue, but the thought of his friend-now-enemy defiling you, tasting you, while Wonwoo desperately waited for your call caused him to direct all his anger to you. Perhaps it’s undeserving to do so, but Wonwoo’s frustration spoke for him before his brain could even register what he was saying. 
“The past two weeks you’ve been ignoring me, spending your time with him, do you know where his true intentions lie?” Wonwoo continues to rant with unpreparedness. 
He didn’t plan what he was going to say because there was a moment of doubt, he had expected you to open the door just to slam it right back in his face. The look you gave him almost brought him to his knees. Your doe-eyed expression could’ve broken down every wall he’s built if only he hadn’t let his anger proceed him. 
Wonwoo should’ve cried, to plead for you to take him back. To go back to the way things were. He knew he fucked up the moment he uttered a single word. The hurt flashed across your face as though Wonwoo turned your world upside down. 
“Seokmin doesn’t care about you, and I’ll tell you that now because you need to hear it. He just wants to fuck you! And you just gave that to him?” He can’t stop talking. 
“Stop. Just stop fucking talking Wonwoo. Do you hear yourself right now?” You cut off his rant. “Out of all people, who gave you the right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck? Especially knowing the type of person that you are. It doesn’t matter if Seokmin and I had sex. What matters is the fact that you think you can barge in here at two-thirty in the morning interrogating me over a situation that doesn’t involve you.” 
“No. I’m just trying to help you. Seokmin isn’t the person that you think he is,” Wonwoo seethes, annoyed at how you’re twisting his words. 
The bile in his throat rose further, as you stood before him like he had just kicked your dog. Wonwoo’s extremely aware of the hole he had dug for himself, but he couldn’t stop. His urge to self-sabotage overrides his common sense. 
“That is exactly what we’re not going to do right now. Seokmin has been a better friend to me than you have been in all the years we’ve known each other. I have been by your side for years, bending over backwards. I was at your beck and call and I’m tired. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and warn myself about you. I fell in love with my best friend, and the worst part was that you didn’t care enough to notice. 
“I gave up so much for you, Wonwoo. I lost myself trying to please you. But I give up. I was drowning in my love for you. It consumed every part of me to the point I couldn’t even come up for air. And I’m just sick of it. I know there’s a part of you that cares about me too, but it’ll never be equal. I’ll always love you more than you love me, and I don’t want to feel this way anymore.” 
“What hurts me the most, is that you thought it would be okay to accuse me of things I didn’t even do. I did not sleep with Seokmin, but why is that what you care about?  He respects me and just wants to be there for me. And that’s a lot more than I could ever say about you.” 
Your voice was terrifyingly calm, with neither a lilt nor a hiccup during your speech. The heft of your declaration crashed back down onto Wonwoo, leaving him at a loss for words. 
“I’m sorry,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth after a long pause. 
“Please. It’s late, you should go home,” you sigh, but Wonwoo couldn’t move an inch. He refused. 
“I’m sorry,” he repeats himself, looking into your eyes, searching for the look of endearment you had always given him. 
“Wonwoo
” there it is. Your voice had broken for the first time since Wonwoo stepped foot in the place. 
“Please. I’m so fucking sorry. For getting angry, for doubting you, for not realizing how badly you were hurting,” Wonwoo resorted to pleading. 
A look of desperation mixed with agony was the only thing you could exchange for his apologies.
The stare of grief you had given him caused a shooting pain to swell throughout his limbs. The one that begins at his fingertips, creeping up to tug at the strings that held his heart together. He wanted this nightmare to end, and he was sure you did too. 
“It’s time for you to go. I’m tired, Wonwoo.”  A single tear slips and trickles down your cheek. 
He regrets not wiping it away for you at that moment. It was the first time he had been so unsure of his actions. So, instead, he walked out of your apartment, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of his cologne and a piece of his heart. 
Wonwoo's world was crumbling underneath him, and there was only one person he refused to let go of. He should’ve known.
He should’ve known that you were in front of him this whole damn time.
end of act one.
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âŠč a/n: if you liked this story pls dont be afraid to let me know thru a reblog, comment or ask! also a big ty to my beshies forever @vapidlynn and @bunnyjjongie who i've texted multiple times in the wee hours of the morning for reassurance abt this thing hehe.
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dreamscapeee222 · 3 days ago
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You have poor eyesight
Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko, Viktor, Jayce, Mel
A/n: Really rushed with this lol but it should be fine. Bon appetit!
Masterlist
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Vi
Vi would tease you lightly, calling you "four-eyes" if you wear glasses or joking about how "the world looks better blurry anyway" if you don’t. But it’s always said with a grin that lets you know she loves you just the way you are.
If you struggle to see something, Vi would be the first to step in and help. She’d guide your hand to what you’re looking for or describe things in vivid detail, making it fun so you don’t feel self-conscious.
She loves holding your hand when you're navigating unfamiliar areas, making it feel less like a necessity and more like an excuse to stay close. “Stick with me, short-stack. I’ve got your back.”
On lazy days, she’d trace your face with her fingers while you lie together, her voice soft as she murmurs, “Doesn’t matter what you see—what matters is what I see, and that’s someone amazing.”
During tender moments, she’d lean down and say, “Guess it’s lucky for me you didn’t see someone better,” before kissing you deeply.
Caitlyn:
Caitlyn would be the most practical about it, immediately asking if you need updated glasses, a new prescription, or anything to help. She’d even offer to bring you to Piltover’s best optometrist.
If you ever feel embarrassed about squinting or losing your glasses, she’d cup your chin and kiss you softly, whispering, “You’re beautiful, no matter what you see.”
She’d make sure everything in your shared space is organized and accessible for you. If you have trouble finding something, Caitlyn would quietly place it in your hand with a soft, reassuring smile.
During late-night talks, she’d lean in and kiss you gently, her voice soothing as she says, “You’re all I see. Nothing else matters.”
Caitlyn would take pride in making sure you never feel limited. If there’s something you can’t do because of your eyesight, she’d offer a solution or alternative with a warm smile and unwavering support.
Jinx:
Jinx would definitely make a big, dramatic show of it. She’d wave her hands in front of your face, asking, “Can you see this? What about this?!” just to make you laugh.
When you’re struggling to spot something, she’d hop on your back and point things out like a pirate’s lookout, making it a game to cheer you up.
If you wear glasses, she’d insist on decorating them with stickers or doodles, saying, “Now you’ll be cool AND functional!” She’d giggle while planting a quick kiss on your lips.
She’d secretly learn what frustrates you most about your eyesight and try to fix it in her quirky, Jinx-like way. Can’t see far? She might rig a telescope gadget for you, proudly presenting it with a kiss on your hand.
On days when you’re down, Jinx would surprise you with a flurry of kisses, peppering them all over your face until you’re laughing and feeling loved again.
Ekko:
Ekko would always notice when you’re struggling to see something, immediately stepping in to help with an encouraging smile and a cheeky, “I got you, babe.”
If you bump into something or get flustered, he’d grin and say, “You’re cute when you’re clumsy,” before kissing you gently to soothe any embarrassment.
He’d tease you lightly about your poor eyesight but would always make it clear he finds it endearing, pulling you in for a kiss and saying, “You see just fine where it matters most—right here with me.”
Ekko would love playing little games to cheer you up, like making a guessing game out of blurry objects or using his time manipulation to "rewind" your stumbles into something graceful.
He’d keep his arm around you when you're out together, using it as both a guide and a silent way of keeping you close. “You’re safe with me,” he’d whisper, leaning in to kiss your temple.
Viktor:
Viktor would carefully modify things in your environment to make them easier for you, like adding soft lights or adjusting your work tools. “A small improvement,” he’d say, his voice full of quiet pride.
If you wear glasses, Viktor would always take care of them for you, cleaning or fixing them without a second thought. “Your vision matters to me,” he’d say, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.
He’d encourage you not to see your eyesight as a weakness, softly saying, “We all have limitations. But you overcome yours beautifully,” before kissing your forehead.
Viktor would love moments where you rely on him to guide you, using it as an excuse to hold your hand or pull you close.
He’d craft personalized solutions for any frustration you have, making sure you never feel like your eyesight limits your abilities or independence, always ending his gestures with a soft kiss of reassurance.
Jayce:
Jayce would constantly reassure you about your eyesight, saying, “If anything, it just makes me want to take care of you more,” before sweeping you into a warm hug and a kiss.
He’d invent practical yet adorable solutions, like a glasses case with your favorite design or a magnifying gadget you can wear around your neck for convenience.
If you ever bump into something or squint at something too long, Jayce would chuckle and ruffle your hair, saying, “You know you can just ask me for help, right?” before guiding you.
He’d love making you laugh when you’re frustrated about your vision, pulling you close and joking, “Good thing I’m here to be your eyes AND your muscles.”
During quiet moments, Jayce would hold your hands and kiss each one, looking into your eyes and saying, “You don’t need perfect sight to see how much I love you.”
Mel:
Mel would handle it with quiet grace, always ensuring you feel comfortable. She’d notice the things you struggle with and adjust without making a big deal out of it—like moving a book closer to you or pointing out details you might miss.
She’d gift you stylish, luxurious glasses or accessories, always making sure they feel like a part of your personality rather than a necessity.
When you’re squinting at something, Mel would smirk and lean in close, her breath brushing your skin as she whispers, “Need a closer look?” before kissing you sweetly.
If you ever feel frustrated, she’d sit beside you, gently holding your hand and saying, “Let me share my vision with you. Together, we can see the world clearly.”
Mel would use your eyesight as an excuse for more intimate moments—holding your face in her hands, guiding your gaze to hers, and kissing you softly to remind you that you’re loved.
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Requests may be sent through the ask box. SFW only.
@self-aes request: Good day. I want to write a headcanon about a reader with poor eyesight/wearing glasses. How characters from arcane will interact with him. I want to see Vi, Caitlin, Jinx, Ekko, Victor, Jace, Mel. Sorry if you see any mistakes (English is not my preferred language, I checked with a translator)
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euthymiya · 3 days ago
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Sukuna who never was close to his twin brother and never cared about the pipsqueak runt of a kid who’s his nephew.
He doesn’t care and doesn’t want to be associated with that bullshit. His brother doesn’t take the hint ever and invites him to everything. “My sons’s birthday party” this and “my son’s kindergarten graduation” that. What sort of graduation is meant for a kindergartener anyway? That’s a load of nonsense. But Jin is as annoying as ever with insisting on keeping contact and trying to get Sukuna involved and he hates it until by some tragedy out of nowhere, his brother and sister and law are dead. Yuuji’s left an orphan and no one can care for that kid because there’s no one left.
No one except Sukuna.
They ask him, too. The social workers. They turn to him and say some pitiful script about being “the only family left to take custody of him.” He knows pretty well what’s going to happen to the pipsqueak if he doesn’t agree. The foster care system and the possible horrors such a bright (even if annoying) kid could face makes him question saying no for a second. He’s surprisingly conflicted.
And it’s out of sheer impulsiveness alone does he end up as a single, grumpy, begrudging uncle who’s got custody of a child he never really cared to know in the first place.
And then he meets you.
Sweet, bubbly, warm, and so weirdly happy. Dictionary definition of what an elementary school teacher should be. Yuuji’s absolute favorite person on the planet as he waves hello at you enthusiastically every time that Sukuna drops him off and goodbye every time that Sukuna picks him up.
“I heard his new guardian would be his uncle. It’s nice to meet you,” you murmur to him the first day he picks up Yuuji after school, a look of pure melancholy on your face as you stare at him with an unearthly amount of compassion and sympathy. “Yuuji’s parents were wonderful people. I’m really sorry for your loss.”
“Wasn’t that close with either of them,” he grunts out. You look over at where Yuuji’s gleefully playing on the slide of the playground. Too young and innocent to realize that’s been ripped away from him. Too naive to understand what it means to grieve. Too hopeful about the world around him to realize just how cruel it can really be.
“Oh,” you murmur, nodding slowly.
He thinks that your unnaturally kind demeanor will finally be broken for a split second of judgement. What sort of heartless bastard doesn’t feel an ounce of grief for his own brother’s death? Instead, however, you seem to look at him with some weird sense of wonder.
“You’re a good uncle for stepping up regardless,” you say softly, “it’s more than what most would do in your shoes.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he clicks his teeth, unbearably uncomfortable with how weirdly sentimental this all is. “He’s just a five year old. How much trouble could he be?”
You raise a brow in amusement, eyeing him like he’s got one hell of a surprise waiting for him. He doesn’t like the vague way you hum, “Yeah. How could such a little human cause trouble, right?”
“I’ve got it under control,” he grumbles, a little annoyed that you seem to think that out of all things, a simple child would be enough to cause Sukuna any issues.
“Let me know if you need anything,” you smile.
Yuuji calls to you from the distance, squealing look what I can do! before he does a rather clumsy spin. Sukuna raises an unimpressed brow. You clap and praise him with an exaggerated gasp of approval.
It’s oddly endearing, he thinks to himself—you, not the kid. The kid’s barely tolerable.
“C’mon, you brat,” Sukuna calls. And then he looks at you and gruffly adds, “And I don’t need help.”
“Okay,” you grin brightly. It almost feels like you’re saying that a little sarcastically. “I’m sure you’ve got this parent thing down.”
Before he can even correct you that he’s an uncle, not parent, Yuuji comes running over on clumsy, short little legs and grabs onto Sukuna’s hand.
“C’mon, Uncle ‘Kuna!”
Sukuna doesn’t miss the way your eyes soften. Weirdly enough, he feels this odd sort of squeeze in his chest that doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he’s just getting old—that has to be it.
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simonbrain · 2 days ago
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you rarely call price by his first name. it's usually just a very cheery cap! or a stoic price when you need to remind him of the objective, but whenever you do call him john—you tried jonathan once as a joke, and the piercing stare he gave you made that the first and last time—it's warm, earnest. you almost seem shy uttering it, judging by the softness of your voice, but he calms your nerves with a fond look and an affectionate squeeze on the back of your neck.
getting the privilege of calling soap by his first name, let alone johnny, was an accomplishment in itself. you noticed how ghost was the only one who called him johnny, and so you took that as a sign to never refer to him as anything other than his ridiculous callsign and occasionally an incredulous bloody hell, mactavish, whenever he says something outrageous.
until you did slip up one night, but soap didn't seem to mind too much. he quite liked how his first name sounded in your voice, and when he offered you to call him johnny instead, which you mumbled under your breath to test it out, his surprised expression morphed into a genuine smile, one so pretty a rush of energy zipped through you. now, he won't let you call him anything except johnny—pretty much threatens you.
gaz was the first one on the team who allowed you to call him by his first name. hearing you mumble a tired morning, kyle or a warning but unserious kylie... when he's being a little shit makes his day a little brighter. you'd think the two of you were good mates with many years of friendship under your belts with the way you mock and poke at each other—especially when he lets you get away with calling him the most ridiculous pet names, like pookie, of all things.
while you seem to maintain good relations with your team, close ones even, there's just one person who stumps you. one big, enigmatic bastard who gives you creepy looks and speaks in nothing but cryptic language.
it honestly feels like your lieutenant dislikes you; no wonder you're still stuck with calling him by his callsign.
(poor ghost has been waiting for weeks for those plush lips of yours to utter his name. not ghost, not lieutenant or sir, but simon.
it's getting painful how oblivious you are to his attempts at giving you the green light to use his first name; the hard stare he gives you after hearing yet another formal greeting fall from your lips only seems to make you straighten up even more, and the annoyance radiating off of him every time you call him ghost scares you further away from him.
you're so formal with him, and he doesn't know what else to do—he just wants to be called a cute stupid nickname, too.)
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sukunasweetheart · 2 days ago
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the tiger and his milk! 🐯
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in this world, a certain tiger hybrid male keeps a keen eye on a cow hybrid female next door...
warnings; female reader, inaccurate?omegaverse, lactation without pregnancy, animal-human hybrid AU (but theyre more human than animal tbh just imagine them with ears and a tail), heat and rut, breeding, alcohol as aphrodisiac, bullying of the cervix, tit sucking, nipple teasing, biting, dry humping, overstimulation, sexual frustration, neighbours-with-benefits, knotting, f!masturbation, lots of cum, this is straight up just a hxntai oop
word count; 6.5k
dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/thecutestgrotto
do NOT expect a serious and well-paced writing from this one, i was horny and the end result is just.... this. sorry not sorry, I AM WARNING YALL; this is one degenerate ass fic also forgive me for any inaccuracies in any of the tropes i used, i just cherry picked the parts i wanted and mixed it all together so...
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moving to this new neighborhood hasn't been all too easy for you.
being a little low on money aside, there's a certain rambunctious neighbour who won't leave you alone. he playfully terrorises you with threats to eat you up, and makes comments that all go straight to your head, making you feel weak and flustered, leading you to cower beneath him. though you should firmly tell him to cut it out, you struggle to do this when you’re dealing with someone who could be a natural predator of yours, had you been an actual sow and not a hybrid. 
that, and also-
strangely, there's a part of you that doesn't despise the way he treats you. in fact, when you see his large, brutish hands and the veins that run up his arms, you feel yourself squeezing your thighs together. you brush it off as it being a result of your apparent loneliness and sexual frustration. there's nothing good that'd come out from being with such a discourteous man.
setting that aside... there are numerous other problems that you've been having to deal with, recently.
your breasts have been collecting milk faster, and much more than usual, recently.
even for cow hybrids, milk should only be produced when the female is pregnant, and for only a year or two at most after giving birth. for some unknown reason, you produce it all year round, even without needing to have children. doctor after doctor you've visited, and all they've told you is that you're a strange anomaly. there is nothing you can do about it except extract it every now and then, to relieve the pain and swelling.
tonight, that is what you're planning on busying yourself with, once you get home from your shitty office job.
walking towards your porch with a deep sigh, you hear a deep voice call out to you.
"bad day at work, dollface?" your terrible neighbour-- sukuna, he's called, asks you with a cigarette in his hand dressed in jeans and a black tanktop. his tail swishes playfully behind him.
dollface. one of the few nicknames he uses condescendingly to refer to you. it's either dollface, doll, or sweetheart, and you don't recall ever hearing him actually use your name.
"um, work was alright... thank you for asking. have a good evening."
you like to make things short and stop any further conversation from happening, even though it might come off as a little awkward. one of sukuna's ears flick at your dry response, but he doesn't seem to bother you any further as you hurriedly unlock your front door and head inside.
sukuna drops his cigarette bud on the ground, and puts out the flame by stepping on it. you're not very sociable, as per usual...
but your sweet, passing scent makes for a little growl to rise in the back of his throat. sweet milk. that's what you always smell like. how curious. how tempting.
once you're home, you immediately grab your breastmilk pump that sits beside your sink. it hasn't been too long since you last cleaned it. you unhook your bra, and grimace at the wet stains on it, from leaking bit by bit throughout the day.
you press the pump up against one of your breasts and press the on button. it starts doing it's job. you sigh from relief, and watch as it fills up quite quickly. you wonder what you should do with all of it...
you stop the pump to empty it out into a glass bottle. it's a tedious process. sometimes... sometimes you wish you had a partner who could help you with it. sometimes, you wish someone would latch their mouth on and extract you directly-
what if he-- sukuna- did that for you? forcefully held you down and-
your eyes widen and your tail droops with shock at your own intrusive thoughts. heavens, no! you need to get yourself a partner. it's been too long. you hope you're not heading into heat already? it's not time for that yet, at least not according to your usual cycle. shaking your head as you extract the remnants of the milk from your breasts, you finish up quickly.
at least tomorrow, it will be saturday.
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you'd forgotten about how overgrown the grass in your front yard had gotten. so, even though it's a saturday, and despite how you'd love to stay inside with all the curtains shut and doors locked tight... an unpleasant duty calls outside.
but despite the meticulous preparation of lathering enough sunscreen over yourself in protection against the sun's rays - the lawn mower suddenly doesn't want to heed to your calling.
your face scrunches up into a frown. darn thing.
the useless machine splutters and makes an obnoxious noise only in the beginning before giving out, no matter how many times you try to rev it back up again.
"goddamn it. you stupid thing," you mutter under your breath, crouching down to inspect it.
"need help?"
sukuna leans against the fence that is shorter than his own height, watching you with amusement. he'd been observing you for quite a few minutes by now.
"no thank you. i'm quite alright..." you respond without turning back. you know damn well whose voice that belongs to.
but does he listen? of course not! you hear the noise of the man easily bypassing the fence by elegantly hopping over it, before walking over towards you. how funny, even the fence fails to serve it's purpose in this moment.
"like that's believable. you think verbally degrading it will make it work?" sukuna snorts, coming around and shooing you away from the lawn mower.
he gives it a nice big rev, but not much happens. you smile slightly, wondering if he was going to make a fool of himself, after all that big attitude.
sukuna brings his foot against the side of the machine and gives it a hard kick. the sound startles you.
and now it's starting up nicely, and beginning to do it's job.
the man begins to mow your lawn for you, without another word. you stand around, not knowing what to do... your ears flicker as you stare at him doing your job for you. it feels odd. what is he up to?
well... no matter the hidden motive, it's true that he's doing you a huge favour. perhaps you should at least make a cold beverage for him, once he finishes with your yard. after observing him for a while, you head back inside to search for what would serve as an appropriate iced drink.
by the time you've stepped back outside, the yard is cut neatly and sukuna is in the midst of returning your lawn mower to your garage.
you silently hand him over his drink, and he takes it with a smirk.
"it's gone..." he suddenly comments.
"what's gone?" you question, with a raised eyebrow.
"that sweet smell that always surrounds you."
he proceeds to down his drink very quickly, not breaking eye contact with you. then, he starts chewing on the ice, tail swishing mischievously behind him.
"i... don't know what you mean." you cross your arms.
"hmm. playing dumb, i see. that's fine, i suppose."
you stand awkwardly with him in silence, simply listening to him crunching away on the ice. the heat from the sunlight gets more and more unbearable.
"if you're done with your drink... i think i'll start heading back inside now. thank you for your help today," you tell him politely, carefully taking your cup back from his hands.
he makes it seem like he's handing it over to you obediently, but then he tightens his grip against it when you're holding onto the glass, making you stare up at him in confusion. he pulls it back, so that you stumble closer to him.
"just letting you know. if you need any help, you can always ask me."
you're a bit nervous, but you try not to show it. does he know something? how much does he know? you feel your tail cowardly fall in between your legs. sukuna's ears give a light flick, but you don't know what that means.
"...we're neighbours, after all."
you look at him with distrust, holding onto your cup tighter. your gaze is unwavering as you meet his eyes.
"sure. i'll keep that in mind," you respond slowly.
seemingly satisfied, he lets go of your glass.
"thanks for the drink. see you."
it's a short backhanded wave he gives you, before he hops over the fence again. you narrow your eyes. just what kind of fence is this useless? can't even keep away one bad, bad man. you're not sure how much he's caught onto, but you sure hope he stops being interested in you with enough time. he easily sends odd tingles down your spine, and you don't like that one bit.
not at all...
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the working part of an office job isn't actually that bad.
it's the people involved around you that makes it a living hell. nothing gets your blood pressure higher than your collusive colleagues and snobby superiors - especially the lazy ones who do everything to shove their workload onto other people.
such people are yet also, annoyingly obsessed with get-togethers and teamwork, which makes you laugh.
today is such an unlucky day, that you've been dragged off to an after-work gathering at some cheap restaurant with your shitty coworkers, all because one of them decided that they needed one.
nothing like being surrounded by a bunch of people that you hate, on a wednesday evening. you have to put on a fake smile, and remain the passive, agreeable coworker in this environment. they coerce you to drink more alcohol. you want to decline, but you feel as though you'll ruin the mood if you turn them down. you down a few pints of beer.
you can feel your breasts leaking again.
just let me go home, you think to yourself, for the fifth time in a row.
your wish is only granted after an hour or two later. you're still sober, maybe a little tipsy, seeing as you can feel the heat in your face from the alcohol. your body is probably not taking it very well today.
the first thing you do when you get home is washing your hands and settling down with your little trusty pump. when you undo your bra, you sigh in relief as your chest feels free. and also...
it's probably the alcohol acting as an aphrodisiac - you're a bit more sensitive tonight. you caress the swell of your breast and groan, your horniness overriding how tired you are. your other hand wanders down your panties, and your ears droop down.
you purse your lips together and let your fingers work against your clit for an orgasm that you know will be unsatisfactory, but you chase after such pleasure regardless. your breaths quicken, and you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. nearly there...
just when you were about to reach your first high of the night, a firm knock is heard from your door. just your luck. a ruined orgasm.
who can it be, at this time of the evening? you throw on a cardigan that just barely covers you up, and boldly stomp towards the door, irritated. you could give this person just about any piece of your mind.
but when you open the door, you're met with your most cunning and bothersome of a neighbour, sukuna. maybe it's because you're hornier than ever right now - you feel as though he looks even...hotter, tonight. his scent makes you dizzy.
sukuna had come by because he needed an ingredient for his dinner.
he wasn't expecting to be met with the eye candy that is your slightly disheveled self, with one hand keeping your loose cardigan together, while you're very obviously braless, judging by your nipples jutting out against the fabric. that, and the thick smell of your arousal that hit him right when the door had opened.
"wh-what do you want?" you ask, a little breathless, trying to keep it together.
sukuna looks down at you, trying to keep himself calm. this seems amusing. he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from tenting his pants soon, if he stays around you longer...
"you look like you were busy with something... sorry to interrupt," he voices slyly, his fangs showing when he smiles.
"just... get on with it, please," you frown, your legs squeezing together. you can never tell what he's thinking - whether he knows everything or if he's pretending to know everything.
"nothing much, just ran out of salt at home. could i get some of yours?" sukuna shrugs innocently, holding up his empty salt jar.
"hold on a second."
you turn around to button your cardigan up with a sigh of annoyance, and you tell him to come in while you grab your salt from the kitchen.
once sukuna steps inside, he observes a million details at once. the very first thing he sees is your little pump that you'd forgotten to put away there. there's no way that puny thing is enough for you, is it?
in your kitchen, you grab your jar of salt, and attempt to open the thing - but your arms feel like jelly at the moment. you grit your teeth and try harder, cursing at yourself for shutting it so tight the last time you used it. you begin to strain your arms further. sukuna marvels at this excellent opportunity he is granted.
your feelings of irritation are whisked away when a pair of hands gently land on top of yours, against the jar. his fingertips reach the lid through the gaps between your own fingers. you feel the bigger man's body warmth, when he comes around from behind. it makes you feel so weak. your tail is hanging off to the side, raised high.
sukuna applies a bit of pressure, and the jar comes off easily. you note how warm his large hands feel.
"i came here for the salt, but now i'm thinking maybe i won't need it anymore..." he whispers down at you. your ears can't help but flicker from his voice.
"what... do you mean by that?" you ask, not knowing what to think.
he guides your hands to put the salt down on the counter. and then his body presses up against yours a little harder. you can feel his growing boner against your behind, and you feel lightheaded. sukuna peers down longingly at the exposed side of your neck.
your pheromones mix with his, and his fluffy tail curls around your leg, almost possessively. sukuna's hands are still holding onto yours, and you feel your breaths get more laboured by the tension.
"i promised to lend my help, didn't i? c'mon..." he coaxes, speaking closely so that his breath grazes against the skin of your neck.
you feel yourself starting to sweat a little more - his body heat is just too much. your chest is uncomfortably full, and the thought of someone sucking on your sensitive nipples is enough for you to finally cave in, and play the fool for the night.
you break free from his grasp for a moment, and hesitatingly point to your couch.
"...sit. it's probably easier on the couch," you tell him, not looking his way. and now you're even shoving him towards it, impatiently.
"my, how demanding," he comments teasingly. he knows you purposefully broke the tension - to prevent him from taking the lead. but he obediently takes a seat on your couch. following that, you awkwardly mount him and sit on his lap.
sukuna watches with a softer smirk as you unbutton yourself again, revealing your leaky breasts with a flustered look on your face. sukuna's hit with that familiar sweet scent that's always been floating around you all this time - but now, it's right in front of him, in full force. it makes his mouth water. he was right about you lactating.
"....go ahead," you tell him shamelessly, yet still sorely embarrassed, cheeks feeling so warm that you're concerned you might pass out. "just be gentle," you warn him, looking at him with a little hesitation and pursed lips.
sukuna feels his cock twitch against you, and he wonders if you can feel it too, from the way you're sitting right on it. his own face feels quite flushed - any man would be the same if they were in his position. such a pretty thing in his lap, willingly undoing her buttons for him. he's never seen tits more beautiful than yours.
"hurry-" you breathe out, impatient, and moreover, shy from the way he's shamelessly admiring your face and chest with a dumb smirk plastered on his face.
not even a millisecond after you say it, he puts his searing hot mouth around one of your nipples. your brain ceases to function as a zap runs through your body, and you whine without meaning to, your back arching against the couch. though you grab at his shoulder, your other hand claps over your own mouth to muffle your moans.
the suction of his mouth does wonders for pleasure, nothing like the dull feeling that your mechanic pump gives. you hear his throaty growls as he sucks on your nipple, getting a mouthful of the taste of your sweet milk. you shudder under him, becoming pliant with his touch.
sukuna bathes in your warmth and the softness of your breasts, enjoying how he is able to breathe in your scent from this close. your milk isn't like anything he's ever had before. not too sweet and yet not bland - a taste that is unique to you...
his other hand squeezes your other nipple, making sure it isn't too lonely from his touch. you jerk your hips against him, whole body twitching from the pleasure, the joy of having your tits milked by someone else rather than yourself. you can't hold your moans back any longer.
"fuck... oh please..." you mumble, feeling your breast being drained of it's milk.
he stops sucking for a moment, and you see the beautiful but subtle blush on his cheeks, as he looks up at you like he's intoxicated. he lets his tongue out and flicks it up and down your erect nipple, rolling it around the areola. it makes you whimper and tremble in his lap.
"don't... tease me..." you say through gritted teeth, frowning at him while he merely chuckles at your reaction.
sukuna attaches his mouth to your other breast, as it's leaking so much - as if to beg him to drain it next.
your cunt is pulsing so bad, and you feel yourself drenching your panties already. you subconsciously grind down against him and his obvious boner, trying to relieve yourself, desperate to reach a proper orgasm this time. both of you are in a lusty haze, unconcentrated eyes, you're lost in pleasure and he's lost in the taste of you, your breast milk dripping down his chin as he messily gulps down with greed.
sukuna also bucks his hips up against you, cock straining in his pants - god, he's so hard that it hurts. when was the last time he's felt such a way? he breathlessly sucks and slurps everything out of you, feeling the milk pass down his throat and into his stomach. he could drink this shit forever.
he wants to cum. he's gonna fucking cum. into his pants no less, like a damn virgin. with the way you're rolling your hips around and grinding down on him like a whore, its only a matter of time.
"haah... sukuna... more- do it more," you plead, relishing in the pleasure of having your tits taken care of, while you get yourself off on his very obvious erection - rubbing your clothed cunt against him. it feels so good on your sensitive clit, you're gonna lose your damn mind.
sukuna doesn't pry his lips away from your nipple, but his hands come off your breasts - you feel his arms wrap around your waist instead, holding you down against him tightly, guiding your hips and helping himself dry hump you harder while his face is still all up in your tits.
your breathing quickens even further, and you grab fistfuls of his shirt on his back, shutting your eyes in anticipation-- before letting your orgasm crash over you completely. you gasp as your clit throbs intensely, and you feel slick leaking all over in your panties as you ride your climax out against sukuna's hard cock, shuddering as you do so.
sukuna groans with his mouth still on your breast, his orgasm coming a little later than yours, dick twitching as rope after rope of his cum soils his boxers, hips bucking up into you without control - it feels so restricted in his shorts, and he desperately wants to take it out. his lips finally leave your swollen nipple with a little pop sound. his large hands come to grope the soft flesh as he comes off his high, a dull throb ringing in his cock, one orgasm being far from enough.
"look at you, rubbing your cunt all over my cock to get yourself off, like a proper slut. aren't you a little too eager?" he teases breathlessly, with a weak smirk on his face.
"you're the one... that came onto me so strongly..." you pant, drunk from the waves of pleasure you just received, and from the endless twitching of sukuna's giant cock... he's still hard.
"just admit that you're perverted. arguably, even worse than what i am," sukuna mocks, pinching at your nipples, making you wince.
"shut up, you."
in the spur of the moment, you lift your hips up slightly to shove your hand down his pants to take his dick out due to irritation. sukuna gives the slightest flinch from the sensation of your hand, grabbing onto his now bare erection.
you begin to fiercely jerk him off with a frown on your face, wanting to punish him for his comments a few seconds ago, knowing he's still sensitive from his recent orgasm.
"fuck-! what're you-" he cuts his own voice off with a choked off gasp due to the tight grip of your hand against his twitching cock. he's back to bucking his hips again as you pump up and down with both hands, his dick already being lathered with his own cum making it easier for you. the noises that come out of him almost fills you with pride - and also surprise. you'd never thought that someone like him would ever moan in this way... you jerk him off faster, and a little harder, being fixated on his pretty looking cock that keeps jumping in your hands.
"shit! that's- enough-" sukuna gasps again, chest heaving and whole body jerking, but oddly, not attempting to stop you at all.
you watch in awe, as his cock spurts out several strings of white cum once again, his head tilted back with deep groans, dick pulsing - your hands keep away from it for the first few seconds just to observe, but then you help to milk it dry, grabbing his base and slowly stroking up and down. he shudders from your touch, and the sight of him being so sorely sensitive makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy again.
he really does cum a shit ton. it goes for what seems to be like ages, never ending pulses of his cock and rope after rope tainting your hands, and his own stomach. the way he shivers before you, how captivating his groans sound, it all makes you want to do it all over again.
you slowly rub his tip against your palm, playing with his dick as if it were a toy - but this time, he grabs your wrist to stop you.
"enough..." he says with a low voice - and the look that he gives you sends a shiver down your spine.
he's beginning to smell a bit different. its not like before. and it's getting thicker by the second...
"ah, fuck.... i'm in rut," sukuna admits with a scowl, and a flushed face.
the realisation hits you like a truck.
"look at what you've done," sukuna growls as he grabs your hips and pushes you closer towards him, his cock impossibly harder. he's breathing heavily, and you see the precum that's gathering on his tip. he won't be able to hold himself back much longer, and you know it.
and curse the omega in you - you're unable to resist him, and you can feel yourself syncing with his rut, a strange swoop occurring in your stomach. his strong pheromones make you lightheaded and feverish, instigating your submissive side as you become obedient - sitting on his lap with an eager shine in your eyes, breathing heavy from his strong scent and your desire to be dominated.
you want to have your brains fucked out. you can't take it anymore.
as if reading your mind, sukuna lunges forward and practically throws you onto your back on your couch - you let out a yelp and watch as he pulls your shorts and panties down and casts them aside, stripping you completely. you feel so vulnerable, but his intense strength and desperation is only adding to your arousal.
he pushes your knees up and rubs his cock up against your clit, and puckering hole.
"look at all this slick. you want me that bad huh?" sukuna remarks darkly, sweat gathering on his temples.
you grit your teeth, fighting the urge to give him a meek response - having the strange desire to provoke and set him off until the end.
"you're the desperate one here..." you tell him breathlessly, sensing how his dick is practically begging to be inside you, with the way it twitches on your cunt.
your blood runs cold for a second, when you see the way he looks down at you, with a vein popping out on his forehead.
"...maybe i am," he relents, with a low voice, grabbing your face.
and then he leans down to shove his lips against yours, while thrusting his cock into you at the same time.
you whimper into the kiss as his tip hits your womb like nothing. you'd ignored how massive he was at the start, but now it's impossible to brush off.
"t-too big..." you mumble when he breaks away from your lips.
sukuna groans as he drags his cock in and out of your sopping cunt, practically holding him in an iron grip from the suction. your endless amount of slick coats his dick with plenty of lubricant to fuck you more easily.
"you can take it, doll. i'll make you take it..."
his eyes dilate as he begins to piston his hips at a fast but uneven pace, groaning shamelessly as his cock ravishes your pussy by hitting all the right places, heavy balls smacking against your ass with every thrust. the pleasure runs through your veins like electricity, and you feel high off the feeling of someone so big and strong using you like you were his fleshlight - to relieve his rut.
you can barely breathe from the way he pounds you, relentlessly pushing you to the limit, tears forming in your eyes and high pitched moans coming from your throat.
"ohh-! sukuna... oh, please please please..." you plead, almost sobbing.
he responds by leaning down to lather his tongue against your scent glands, sucking on them and rest of the skin on your neck. you shudder and let out another set of whimpers - and sukuna's fangs feel antsy, wanting to sink them into your flesh.
sukuna aims for the sweetness from your breasts, to distract himself. you cry out as he roughly latches onto your nipple and begins to suck as he squeezes your soft flesh. his cock feels like it's about to burst.
when he stimulates your nipples a certain way and his tip grazes your g-spot at the same time, you're hit with an orgasm that makes you squeal and has your cunt fluttering uncontrollably.
his dick gives in to the sudden milkings of your pussy and sukuna pushes his hips to settle himself into you as deep as he can - giving a choked off groan from the sudden climax as his cock swells up inside of you, anchoring itself.
the knowledge of him knotting you doesn't seem to matter as you enjoy the feeling of the warm gush of his cum pouring into your womb, his balls clenching with every rope that spurts out, messily coating your walls with white.
sukuna pants so heavily above you, abs flexing as he continues to orgasm in your warm cunt that still has a dull pulse from your previous climax. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a soft growl, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.
your breathing relaxes as you lay still on the couch while sukuna weighs you down and breeds you properly, consequences be damned. you could try and fight him off, but it's been so long since you've been so sexually satisfied that your logical thinking has turned itself off. all you want to do is enjoy bathing in the pheromones of your alpha and let the heaviness of his large body drape over yours as he pumps you full of his babies.
sukuna is usually very careful about who he's around when he's in a rut - and he's always made sure either he or his partner had some sort of protection on before doing anything. he wouldn't want to go around having kids with the wrong people. it's hard to say whether you're wrong or right for him - he doesn't know much about you to judge yet...
but you make him feel so right.
and he's still fighting off the urge to mark you to make you officially his, with drool beginning to run down his chin. his fangs are making it unbearable; he needs to bite something right now.
"you look restless..." you tell him, getting him to tear his gaze away from your neck, to your face instead.
you pull him in for a messy kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth. he feels the way you brush over his fangs, paying extra attention to them as you make out with him, and it makes him groan. you must have done this with someone else before. sukuna nips at your tongue and lower lip, doing his best not to break skin - trying to relieve himself of the urge to bite.
the swell of his knot is gradually subsiding, but you know that the night is far from over.
"which way to your bedroom?" sukuna asks after breaking away from your kiss, breathlessly.
"farthest down the corridor, past the kitchen.." you respond, feeling a little needy after he abruptly stopped the kiss like that.
"hold onto me."
he lifts you up easily with his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, arms over his shoulders. the display of strength makes your heartbeat quicken.
when you're laid upon the soft mattress of your bed, his lips come crashing down again - while his hips begin to give shallow thrusts, cock still hard and throbbing. sukuna kisses you like he's a man starved, and you feel as though he might actually swallow you up at this rate.
the strong grip on your hips tighten as his pace gets rougher. you have to break away to gasp and moan. every time he jostles your body, you feel his previous heavy load sloshing inside you, and it's getting too much. sukuna doesn't look like he's even entirely here, hips moving mindlessly and drool dripping down his chin - it's a terrifyingly arousing sight.
he tries to come down and kiss you again, but you have to push his face away - you're so out of breath that you're afraid you might pass out if he does that again. it's overwhelming, how his thick cock bullies itself against your walls over and over again.
sukuna doesn't seem too pleased that you're pushing him away; he holds you tighter and he adjusts his hips to fuck you deeper. you mewl loudly, but keep your hand weakly against his face - he doesn't force it away, but lets his tongue droop out, caressing your fingers with it. you feel him bite and suck on your hand as his sharp thrusts produce small bulges in your stomach.
you witness his eyes dilating again, and you swear you see hearts in them this time, your fingers still in his mouth.
his dick feels so, so good in your pussy. your intoxicating smell now surrounds him after coming into your bedroom, and it's driving him insane. he grunts above you, balls feeling heavy, dick pulsing as his tip finds its way knocking on your cervix. there's a thick ring of cream foaming on the base of his cock now, a mixed concoction of both his cum and your slick.
his thrusting gets sloppy and his hips stutter, meaning that he's going to orgasm again. sukuna's eyes roll back, as he messily "kisses" your hand, pushing himself balls deep into you at the final moment.
you arch your back at the sensation of his knot swelling up once again, cumming at this moment. sukuna almost topples over from the tightness, as the walls of your cunt flutter around his knot, effectively squeezing everything out of him.
"f-fu-uuck..." he drones out, his voice dragging the curse word out.
you feel him dumping every drop into your poor womb, emptying his balls. you're afraid that you'll get addicted to this "full" feeling, the warmth of his seed filling you up, the way your insides can feel his cock twitch violently with every thick string of cum he shoots out. you never imagined being held down and inseminated would feel this good.
sukuna's eyes are half-lidded, pleasure continuing to run up and down his spine. he pins your wrist down against the bed suddenly, and latches his mouth to one of your breasts - beginning to suck immediately, like he's trying to rehydrate himself with your milk. you shudder. it seems as though he's doing nothing but take, take, and take from your body... not that you'll stop him from doing so.
you run your fingers through his soft hair, catching your breath, slightly trembling each time he sucks a little too hard. shortly after he is seemingly content, he completely collapses his body over yours, face all up in your breasts, purring while his knot still sits inside of you.
you sense that it's only the beginning of a long, long night.
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once the sun has rolled into the sky, you finally remember the fact that the weekdays haven't finished yet - and that you're supposed to be getting ready for work right now.
problem is, there's a certain someone clinging to your whole body from behind, still purring against the nape of your neck with a hand lazily groping the flesh of your tit. you can feel his fluffy tail curling around yours, possessively. you're sleepy, and his stupid purring keeps coaxing you to take a nap. he's a lot more docile and softhearted than you imagined. you supposed he'd be out of your house by now.
you reach out and feel around to grab your phone, to give your workplace a call to take the day off. while you're on the phone, sukuna places soft kisses down your back. you hope your boss can't hear the excessive vibration in the background. once you're done with that, you shove your phone under your pillow.
"i need a nap... you can use my shower, or go home, whichever you prefer," you tell him sleepily, shutting your eyes.
"is sleeping next to you also an option?" he asks from behind you, snuggling up closer.
"mm," you reply mindlessly, already dozing off. he slips his arm under your head. admittedly, his arm pillow does feel comfortable.
when you next wake up in a few hours time, you don't know what to feel when you notice that he's still next to you in bed.
"finally awake?"
"yeah... i'm surprised you haven't left," you mumble, following that with a yawn.
"i'm surprised you're not chasing me out," he shoots back.
"what would be the point? i'll see you again the moment i step outside the house."
"i bet you love that. being able to see me all the time," sukuna teases, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger.
"ugh, think what you will," you roll your eyes, trying not to be flustered.
you suddenly realise how thirsty and hungry you are.
"i'm starving... i don't remember what's in the fridge," you mumble to yourself.
"hop in the shower with me and i'll take care of all your meals today," he offers, smirking.
you don't really trust his intentions - especially something as intimate as showering together - but you are famished, and you don't think you will be bothered to cook at all today.
"what meals are we thinking?" you ask, curious.
"hm. well, how about steak?"
"... is that a threat?"
sukuna bursts into laughter.
he informs you that the salt he had originally wanted from you was supposed to be for the steak he was cooking last night. who knew that he'd be having a different kind of steak that evening? you look unamused as he makes the joke between chuckles.
unsurprisingly, you do end up in the shower with him, and again, unsurprisingly, he does pay extra attention to soaping up your tits in particular, and making out with you a little here and there. but as promised, you are rewarded with possibly the best meals you've ever had since you moved to this neighbourhood.
after a bit of conversation, turns out the man is a freelance chef, which is something you would've never guessed. from first glance, he seemed like he could've been part of some gang or a shady underground business.
when you sheepishly apologise for misjudging him based on his looks, sukuna laughs once again, and tells you that he'll forgive you if you let him continue to "help you out" from here onwards...
the rest is in dot points bc im lazy!
originally, i had wanted to make this a bit more toxic but i turned it more wholesome bc i felt like ive already posted toxic stuff before this so haha...
btw you do a few pregnancy checks while sukuna is still there after that night, and it turns out negative. it's a big sigh of relief for you and while it should be the case for sukuna too, since he's never really liked the idea of having kids, for some reason there's the tiniest twinge of disappointment...
anyway - after this, their relationship turns into a weird mix between friends with benefits and ?lovers, semi slow burn
often crashing in each others beds and sharing meals, but also having periods where you won't see one another for a week or so when life gets busy
thing is, you always try and tell yourself that you'll only use him to relieve the swell in your breasts, but it's never the case. things always go out of control and you end up bouncing on his cock without thinking of the consequences.
and he can't stop himself from teasing you everytime, those tits of yours could kill a man, he swears. sukuna gets extremely touchy with them, grazing his fingertips over your nipples, groping you with your shirt still on like a lewd old man, life just feels better when he has your tit in his mouth or hands. it hardly feels like he's actually bullying you when he gets hard like a mf while doing it.
and there are moments where he blurs the line between FWB and becoming something a little more, like when he scents you before you leave his place. "...why're you scenting me?" "why not?"
there is an incident that happens in your house one time, where a huge water leak had happened while you were away at work, drenching the floorboards and things requiring a lot of fixing. you had nowhere else to stay that wasn't either a motel or some cheap sauna so sukuna offered you to sleep at his place for the time being.
"but there's nowhere for you to sleep except for my bed. i'm not bothered to clean out any of the spare rooms and i don't suppose you want to sleep on the sofa for weeks straight?" a sly method of getting you to sleep next to him.
it really made things between you two feel a lot more intimate and romantic, a lot of tension, especially when sleeping together without the sex and doing all the chores. both of you felt a little empty when the house maintenance was all done and you had to go back to your own place.
also, this man is quite loaded with money. freelance chef popular in demand, but he only takes up jobs that he feels like doing. sometimes he'll leave his house empty for longer times because he's busy, which makes you quite lonely and confused, since he doesn't really explain to you where he's going and why a lot of the time.
when he eventually is back again, he is met with you, holding the scent of some other alpha. he finds himself feeling incredibly upset and possessive, even though he's always deemed relationships to be superficial in his life, because it limits his freedom. but he just feels so deeply unhappy about it that he ends up arguing with you
he knows it shouldn't be something he is entitled to feel angry about when he's not even properly committed to you but it's not like he's ever mingled with other omegas ever since he's met you? it just felt so unfair to him in the moment.
shortly after the argument, you end up confessing you didn't even do anything with the alpha anyway, just a boring date and one quick hug. and sukuna also explains that it was his fault in the first place, leaving and coming back without saying anything. turns out that he sometimes works as a chef in places like hotels and when he's preparing food for companies or people who live a distance away, he just spends the nights somewhere nearby for convenience.
the tension is high after both of you are finished clearing things up, and it eventually leads to sex again. he wants to get rid of that scent ASAP, whether it was from just a hug or not, he needs it GONE. and this time, he properly marks you, sinking his fangs into your scent glands like he's always ached to do.
the night ends with you two officially becoming a couple, finally haha, happy days
the end
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Masterlist
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rafecameronssl4t · 3 days ago
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What's ours || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: canon fic based off this scene in s4 ep6!!!!
Warnings: angst!!!
Word count: 2, 458
A/n: HAD to write abt this scene
MASTERLIST
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divider by @h-aewo
"Rafey?" your voice rings out as you step out of the shared bedroom, the soft sound of your bare feet padding against the wooden floor. "'M out here on the porch," his voice calls back, low and calm, carrying just a hint of warmth. A smile spreads across your lips as you pick up your pace, excitement bubbling in your chest. Sliding the glass door, you step onto the porch, the late afternoon sunlight casting a golden glow across everything it touches.
There he is, lounging casually on the couch, his polo clinging to his broad shoulders and biceps in a way that makes your stomach flutter. "Hey, baby," Rafe greets, his smile wide and genuine, the kind that always has a way of making you feel like the most important person in the room. "Hey," you murmur, your eyes locking with his. You pause for a moment, giving him the chance to drink in the sight of you.
With a playful glint in your eye, you do a small twirl, letting the flow of your new dress spin out around you, the fabric catching the evening light. You watch Rafe’s reaction carefully, feeling a thrill at how his gaze moves down your figure. "What do you think?" You ask, the words soft but full of a quiet confidence. "It looks good," Rafe says after a beat, his eyes lingering on you for a fraction longer than you expect.
There’s a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his lips, and when he leans back against the cushions of the couch, his eyes never leave you. "You look good," he adds, his voice deeper now, like the words are heavy with more than just praise. You beam at his words, crossing the porch to close the distance between you. "Where you going lookin’ all pretty?" he teases, spreading his legs slightly as he pats his thighs, his grin turning sly.
The gesture is an open invitation, and you happily accept, settling onto his lap. Your arm slides naturally around his shoulders, and his hands find their place on your knee, the warmth of his touch grounding you. "Just shopping with the girls," you explain, playing with the collar of his shirt absentmindedly. "There's this new boutique that just opened up—" You’re cut off by the sound of the front door creaking open and a hesitant voice calling out, "Hello?"
Your brows furrow as you glance at Rafe. "Were you expecting someone?" you ask, your voice laced with curiosity. Rafe exhales a sharp breath, "Yeah," he admits nonchalantly. "Sarah." Your surprise is instant, and your voice reflects it. "Sarah? She agreed to meet up with you?" He chuckles, the sound warm and a little cynical. "Yeah, well
 desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess." Before you can process his words, Sarah’s footsteps sound on the porch, slow but deliberate.
Your eyes shift to the doorway, and soon enough, her figure appears. She glances at you briefly as you move to sit beside Rafe, her gaze cool but not unfriendly, before turning her attention to Rafe. "Hey," he greets her with exaggerated enthusiasm, clapping his hands together with theatrical flair. "Thanks for showing up. Good work." Sarah doesn’t miss a beat, rolling her eyes as if she’s heard this act too many times. "Please, stop," she says flatly.
Rafe grins even wider, running a hand through his buzzed hair, clearly enjoying the reaction. You shift slightly, about to stand to give them space, but Rafe’s hand tightens gently on your waist, silently urging you to stay. "I don’t want to argue, Rafe," Sarah sighs, crossing her arms as she looks at him. Her tone is exasperated, but there’s something softer beneath it. "We already have enough people against us."
An awkward silence settles over the porch, the only sound being the occasional chirping of birds in the trees. The air grows heavy with the weight of unspoken things, a tension that seems to hum between them. You clear your throat, trying to ease the tension. "Can I get you something to drink? Iced tea, maybe?" you offer, your voice polite, even as your eyes flicker between Sarah and Rafe, sensing the undercurrent of frustration.
Sarah’s eyes meet yours, her gaze flicking over the space with an almost detached interest before she shakes her head. "No, thanks. I don’t plan on staying long." You nod, the smile on your lips soft but understanding. There’s something about the way she holds herself—tired, wary—that makes you feel a strange sense of empathy. It’s clear she’s not here for pleasantries.
"Kiara mentioned
" Sarah starts, her voice uncertain as she scans the porch, her eyes flitting from the furniture to the surroundings, clearly uncomfortable. "That you might be able to help." She directs the latter half of her sentence at Rafe, her gaze lingering on him, but there’s a hesitation in her tone, a quiet pleading buried beneath the words. Rafe pulls at the sleeve of his polo, his fingers tugging at the fabric.
He doesn’t look up immediately but instead turns his attention to the ground in front of him, gathering his thoughts. "Uh, no. No, not with the land stuff. You guys are on your own with that," he responds firmly, his gaze briefly flicking up to meet Sarah's. There's an almost apologetic edge to his words, but it's clear that he's drawing a hard line in the sand. Sarah’s expression falls, disappointment flashing across her face, her shoulders sagging slightly as if the weight of unspoken words is pulling her down.
"Right," she mutters softly, the edge of frustration in her voice barely concealed. She pauses, taking a breath before looking back at Rafe. "Sorry," Rafe adds, his voice quieter, almost regretful, but the frustration is still evident. "But
" He hesitates, his gaze dropping to the papers scattered across the table before him, the flicker of something heavier passing through his eyes.
"But there's
 there's something else I wanted to talk to you about," he says, his tone shifting. It’s not just business now—there’s a vulnerability that creeps in, something raw beneath the surface. You watch him, your eyes tracing the subtle movements of his hand as he runs his fingers across his lips, trying to gather the right words. You stay silent, your own gaze fixed on his profile, your heart picking up pace as you sense the shift in the air.
This is no longer just a casual conversation—it feels more like a breaking point, something much deeper. "So when
" Rafe starts, his voice faltering slightly, the words coming out with an almost painful deliberation. He takes a moment, his eyes lingering on the papers again, then he looks down at your left hand resting on his shoulder, his gaze momentarily softening when it lands on the ring you wear—the one his mother gave him.
"Dad died," he finally says, the words coming out like a slow exhale, as if speaking them is harder than he’d like to admit. You feel the change in his tone immediately, the sadness in his voice gripping you, and you instinctively start rubbing gentle circles on his shoulder with your thumb, your mind connecting the dots, knowing how touchy the subject of Ward’s death always is for Rafe.
"...the first time," Rafe adds, his voice quiet, as though even acknowledging that death was not the final one is too painful to process fully. "um, he said I got a quarter of what he had," Rafe continues, his voice distant now, lost in the past as he leans forward, flicking through the papers with a focus that feels almost obsessive. "Yeah, he said I got a quarter too," Sarah chimes in, nodding slowly.
There’s something tired in her voice, a recognition of the weight of their father’s legacy that neither of them ever truly asked for. "But you didn’t get it, did you?" Rafe’s words are sharp, his gaze intense as it locks onto Sarah. There’s a challenge in his eyes, a quiet demand for the truth. Sarah hesitates for a moment, the silence stretching longer than it should. You can see her thinking, weighing her words carefully before answering.
"No," Sarah says finally, her voice quiet but firm. "Yeah, well, good luck trying to get that from Rose's greedy paws," Rafe scoffs, the bitterness dripping from his words. "She's got that money locked down tight." Sarah’s brows knit together, "well, I keep trying to call," she retorts, her tone sharp. "She won’t even let me talk to Wheezie." She crosses her arms, her gaze flickering away as if saying it out loud makes the situation even more real.
Rafe leans forward, his elbows digging into his knees as his expression hardens. "Yes, yes, that’s what I’m saying," he says, his voice rising slightly. He locks eyes with Sarah, a fiery determination in his blue gaze. "We’re a family, and I’m not—" He cuts himself off, inhaling deeply as he shakes his head. "I’m not even allowed to talk to my own sister? That’s not fair, Sarah. You know that."
Sarah’s jaw tightens, and she slowly nods, her lips pressed together as she looks down. "And then Rose," Rafe continues, his arm gesturing wide as his frustration boils over. "She just gets to keep all that gold for herself? What gives her the right? That’s not what Dad intended." His fist slams into the wooden coffee table with a resounding thud, causing Sarah to flinch in her seat. The tension spikes in the air, and you instinctively place your hand on his shoulder, your touch firm yet gentle, hoping to ground him.
"That’s not what Dad wanted," Rafe repeats, his voice cracking slightly as he pounds the table again. Sarah visibly recoils this time, her discomfort palpable. "And it pisses me off!" Rafe’s voice rises, his anger spilling out unchecked. But before his hand can connect with the table a third time, you reach forward and grab it, your fingers curling around his. "Rafe," you say softly, your voice calm but firm. His eyes dart to you, and for a moment, the fire in them dims.
He exhales sharply, leaning back slightly as he glances at Sarah, who keeps her gaze down, avoiding his. "That’s our money, okay?" Rafe insists, his tone quieter but still edged with frustration. Sarah lets out a shaky exhale, her hands fidgeting in her lap as Rafe sighs heavily, running a hand over his buzzed hair. The silence stretches, heavy and uncomfortable, until you place your palm on Rafe’s thigh, your thumb brushing soothingly against the fabric of his shorts.
He glances at you, and you offer him a small, reassuring smile. He manages a faint one in return before looking back at Sarah. "I don’t know about you, but I really—I need that money," Rafe admits, his voice tinged with vulnerability. Sarah’s gaze snaps to him, her expression hardening. "And what about the gold cross you stole?" she counters, her tone sharp and accusatory.
"It was gold-plated," Rafe shoots back with a shrug, rubbing his eyes as if the conversation is draining him. "It was a good score. It’s not endless. It’s not like the Merchant gold, so..." His voice trails off, exhaustion creeping in. "I’m so sorry to hear that," Sarah says, her words laced with sarcasm. Rafe exhales through his nose, standing abruptly, "I don't know. I was just thinking, um." Both you and Sarah track his movements as he walks to the porch railing, gripping it tightly before turning to face her.
"You know, you and me," he starts, gesturing between them, "we try to get Wheezie back." Sarah’s eyes narrow in disbelief. "How?" she asks, her voice flat, as if she’s waiting for him to say something ridiculous. "I don’t know, but..." Rafe admits, pacing back to the table. He moves the glass in front of him before perching on the edge, leaning closer to Sarah. His proximity makes her shift uncomfortably, but she doesn’t move away.
"And then we try to get the money back," Rafe continues, his voice steady and resolute. You can see the determination etched into his features, the way his jaw sets and his eyes gleam with a fervour you know all too well. He pauses, his gaze fixed on Sarah. "Which is why we need to work together," he says, his tone almost pleading now. "Just like Dad taught us. We align our interests." Sarah’s lips press into a thin line, her eyes fixed on the table as Rafe quietly watches.
"I just thought, you and me," Rafe begins again, his voice softer. "We can get back what’s ours." There’s a beat of silence, the weight of his words hanging between them. Sarah bites her lip, her gaze darting to Rafe, then away again. "Look, I’m trying here—" Rafe says, but Sarah cuts him off, rising to her feet abruptly. "No," she says firmly, shaking her head. "I’m sorry."
She turns and strides off the deck, the sound of the front door slamming shut echoing behind her. You stand, moving to where Rafe is still perched on the table, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed. Your hands find his shoulders, squeezing gently as he lets out a frustrated groan. "Can’t she see that I’m trying?" he mutters, his voice laced with annoyance. "Like seriously—" "Shh," you murmur, your thumbs massaging the tense muscles in his shoulders.
"I know, baby. I know you’re trying." You move to stand in front of him, slotting yourself between his legs as he rests his forehead against your stomach. Your manicured fingers run through his buzzed hair, the rhythmic motion calming him as he exhales deeply. "When will she realise that we’re on her side here?" he whispers, his voice tinged with despair.
"You just have to give her time," you reply softly, your fingers stilling for a moment. "She wants to trust you, but she can’t just yet, Rafe." He tilts his head to look up at you, his blue eyes glassy. "I’ve already lost Dad," he says quietly, his voice cracking. "I don’t want to lose her—I don’t want our family to fall apart." Your heart clenches at the raw vulnerability in his tone. You cradle his face gently, your thumbs brushing against his cheekbones as you hold his gaze.
"Listen to me, Rafe," you say, your voice steady and full of conviction. "You won’t lose Sarah, and your family won’t fall apart." His lips press into a thin line, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. "How can you be so sure?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just know," you reply softly, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. "Because I believe in you."
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gaywineauntsstuff · 2 days ago
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Sometimes I feel like us as the bat family fandom forget how starry eyed people get about Nightwing canonically.
Because with the exception of early era Tim most of the Batkids are like. lol that’s my loser older brother or some variation of yeah
he’s some guy I guess? He helps me with homework?
And Nightwing is the canonically a center of multiversal light.
When Heroes meet Nightwing they do the vigorous handshake and the “it’s an honor to meet you sir, I have heard so much about you oh my god”
There are so many character where they are literally shown giggling and kicking their feet whenever Nightwing talks to them.
Even the people who don’t have the celebrity level worship of him respect the hell out of him and call him as soon as they need help.
From raven to Starfire to Superman to Superboy to all or the flashes there is so much respect and awe given to this one dude.
And it is deserved
But imagine you are Damian Wayne and you’ve been working with what 90% of the people you’ve met (all bats) have been calling an embarrassment to your father’s legacy.
Your mother hates him and your Grandfather doesn’t feel that strongly about him.
The red hood calls him an embarrassment and a coward and he couldn’t even keep Red Robin from running away.
Your father tells him that he never should have been Batman
And you’ve worked with him and you know what you think everyone is full of shit about him and you and him the new Batman and Robin are the best no matter what anyone says.
And fuck it the fact he keeps going in a suit that everyone tells him he’s not good enough for is scratching something in your brain that you’re refusing to acknowledge because why would you feel that way? You are the circus freak have nothing in common (shut up)
And then you meet the justice league and all the extended teams.
And people are falling over themselves to listen to a word out of your brothers, your Batman’s mouth. They wait for a nod or headshake and dictate decades worth of planning on it.
Both Drake and Todd’s hero teams ask him for advice with or without their designated bats presence.
The man of steel asks for child rearing advice and wonder woman cracks a joke about a spar
Newer heroes whisper about him in the halls
He’s literally your favorite hero’s favorite hero
And it’s breaking Damian’s Brain
Because well
 he kinda gets slapped around in Gotham. He’s the butt of half the jokes the other Batkids make and Dick just smiles and takes it.
The rogues have a bounty on nightwings ass and he gets leered at by goons, rogues, civilians and anti-hero’s alike and he doesn’t say anything.
He lets oracle crack jokes about a pretty face and having to do everything herself
Let’s Jason run the alley despite the fact that apparently he knows how to take it back
Apparently he’s had 12 people tailing Drake since Paris and despite being the man Ra’s Al Ghul calls detective has yet to notice. (Because you can’t tell me Dick was just magically at the right place to catch Tim falling to his death on coincidence)
And necessary to peace talks because he’s the best they have at deescalation
Like imagine you are a child who was raised to believe power is this obvious, all consuming thing. That the ones who control the board are visibly larger than life figures who fought their way to the top and cling to power by even the thinnest hangnail if they had to.
People who ignore simpler morals or an overall greater goal or good
And then you’re taken in by the man who whispers the correct answers into the larger than life figures ear.
Like I feel like that would have such an impact because Dick didn’t take power from anyone to reach his goals, it’s why his siblings don’t really defer to him unless in crisis.
Dick didn’t take power, no people just looked at him and decided he was the best option to give it to.
Everyone basically looked at this kid and went, yeah you’re the future of all heroism.
And if that dude can’t even get Bruce Wayne’s respect what chance does Damian Wayne have
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willowsnook · 2 days ago
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Concerned (LN) pt. 2
lando norris x neighbor!reader
pt. 1 here
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“Hey superstar,” you call out to Lando as you see him heading in to your building.
“What’s up?” He asks with a smile, and you fall into step with him towards the elevator.
“Not a lot,” you said. “Just getting ready to get out of this country tomorrow.”
“Oh yeah, where are you going?”
“Vegas.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Are you going to the Grand Prix?”
You nodded with an easy smile, “Yeah, heading out a little early to hang with some college friends, but then I’ll be there Saturday.”
“Vegas is far; I’m surprised you’re going,” he commented and you gave him a weird look.
“You know I’m from the US muppet,” you said, and he gave you an amused look.
“Did you just call me a muppet?” He teased. “That’s my word.”
“Yeah, I’ve been really getting into watching Twitch streams, guess I’m picking up on your lingo,” you said nonchalantly but with a mischievous look. Lando froze as you mentioned it, thinking back to the recent stream where he talked about you.
“Oh?” He laughed nervously and your smirk grew wider.
“Yeah, thanks for the shoutout by the way,” you said,his face instantly flushed. “I’ll see you in Vegas, babe.”
You left him in the elevator and walked back to your apartment, giggling. Torturing him was amusing and you didn’t feel that bad about it since you shared some of the thoughts he had about you.
———————————————————-
A week in Vegas was exactly what you needed, especially because of how much you missed your friends. After three days of clubbing, you were exhausted and running on fumes and RedBull to make it to the race. Only one of your friends could join you Saturday night, and you made it to the entrance a few hours before the race. A man scanned your tickets and turned to the sign, grabbing two special passes and handing them to you.
“What are these?” You asked and he gave you a weird look.
“VIP passes?” He asked and sighed as you still looked confused. “It looks like your tickets were upgraded, so you’ll have access to the paddock and paddock club.”
Your mind instantly thought about Lando and you smiled to yourself before pulling your friend along.
As you and your friend made your way through the bustling paddock, the excitement in the air was palpable. The roar of engines, the smell of fuel, and the buzz of anticipation filled your senses. You couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement, wondering if you'd run into Lando.
"This is insane," your friend whispered, wide-eyed as you passed by team garages and caught glimpses of drivers preparing for the race.
You nodded in agreement, still processing how you'd ended up with these VIP passes. As you rounded a corner, you nearly collided with a somewhat familiar face.
“Sorry!” The driver exclaimed, reaching out to steady you. He looked so familiar, but you couldn’t remember exactly who he was. “You are Lando’s friend.”
“Yeah, you’re his teammate, right?” You asked and he nodded, sticking out a hand.
“Oscar.”
“Y/n,” you replied smiling. “I’m surprised you recognized me since we’ve never met.”
“Let’s just say I’ve heard a lot about you,” Oscar said with a slight smirk and you laughed. Lando came into your line of sight, and you saw him look panicked as he watched Oscar talk to you.
"Oh, I bet you have," you said with a grin, glancing over at Lando, who was now making his way towards you with a mix of nervousness and excitement on his face.
"Hey, you made it!" Lando called out, trying to sound casual as he approached. "I see you've met Oscar."
"Yeah, we were just getting acquainted," you replied, enjoying the slight flush on Lando's cheeks. "Thanks for the upgrade, by the way. The paddock access is amazing."
Lando's eyes widened slightly. "Oh, uh, no problem. Glad you're enjoying it."
Oscar looked between the two of you with amusement. "Well, I should get going. Nice to meet you, Y/N. Enjoy the race!"
As Oscar walked away, you turned to Lando with a raised eyebrow. “Crazy how he knew who I was.”
“Crazy,” Lando mumbled and you laughed, grabbing his hand to pull him to meet your friend Maggie.
“Maggie is a big Ferrari fan,” you told him and he waved over to Carlos, who was walking by. Carlos came over, looking down at Lando’s hand still in yours and smirking at his friend. Lando introduced all of you, and Maggie started to talk Carlos’s ear off, much to your amusement.
You turned back to Lando, talking softly, “Ready for today?”
“I think so,” he said. “I don’t really think there’s a shot at the championship anymore based on how the car was last night.”
“I’m sorry Lan,” you said and he gave you a small smile. “It’s still pretty impressive though, everything you’ve done this season and coming in second.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said simply. “Also I’m happy you’re talking to me and not your favorite driver.”
"I think my rankings might have changed." A slow smile spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. He pulled you into his embrace, his strong arms enveloping you in a warm and comforting hug. You took in the familiar scent of his cologne and rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.
“I have to go, but will I see you after the race?” He asked hopefully.
“You have my number,” you replied, and without thinking, you lifted your heels and pressed a short kiss on his cheek. “Good luck superstar.”
You watched the race from the hospitality suite, cheering with Maggie for the Ferrari drivers while being a little sad that Lando seemed to be having an okay race. Maggie left right after the race, having to drive back home that night, and you waited around the paddock while taking in the scene.
LN: still here?
Y/N: yeah, just wandering around.
LN: wander around to the McLaren garage?
Y/N: omw
Lando was out of his race suit and just in a pair of sweats and his team jacket. He looked tired but oddly enough, a little relieved. You hugged him when you saw him, congratulating him on a good race.
“You seem relieved,” you commented and he smiled down at you.
“I am a little, most of the pressure is off now,” he admitted.
“I’m happy for you then,” you declared.
“When are you heading back to Monaco?” He asked.
“Tomorrow afternoon, I’m definitely regretting not getting an earlier flight though. I just want to be back in my bed.”
“Why don’t you just come with me? I’m going to fly out in a couple of hours,” he offered.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother,” you said and he shook his head.
“It’s decided then,” he said and you smiled. You worked out the details and told him you’d meet him outside your hotel shortly. After heading back you packed up your suitcase and headed downstairs, waiting outside for Lando.
He pulled up in a big SUV and the driver got out to help you put your stuff in the trunk before you joined Lando in the back. You had both changed in to sweats and comfy wear, ready to sleep on the plane.
You had never been on a private jet before and were amazed, walking on the tarmac towards the plane. Lando looked over at you and smiled to himself, admiring how you still managed to look good in the night lights, even though he knew you were exhausted. Following him up the stairs, he motioned for you to sit next to him in a reclining seat connected to his. He handed you a blanket and you wrapped yourself up, eager to take off.
“Have fun today?” He asked from next to you and you nodded.
“Tons, it was fun to see you in your element,” you said and he smiled.
The plane took off and you watched out the window briefly before deciding you needed to sleep. While his plane was nice, you had trouble getting comfortable, shifting around trying to find a good spot.
“Can’t sleep?” Lando asked, noticing your restlessness.
“Not really,” you replied, rubbing your eyes tiredly.
He lifted up his blanket, gesturing for you to scoot closer. You hesitated momentarily, but the promise of comfort and warmth was too tempting to resist. Slowly, you shifted closer to Lando, settling into the crook of his arm as he draped the blanket over both of you.
"Better?" he murmured, his breath warm against your hair.
"Much," you sighed contentedly, feeling your muscles relax as you nestled against him.
The gentle hum of the plane's engines and Lando's steady heartbeat soon lulled you into a peaceful sleep. You weren't sure how long you'd been out when you felt a gentle shake on your shoulder.
"Y/N," Lando's voice was soft. "We're about to land."
You blinked groggily, realizing you were still cuddled up to him. "Oh, sorry," you mumbled, starting to move away.
"Don’t worry about it, I’m glad you could sleep,” he said and your heart fluttered.
It was a bright morning in Monaco and knowing you needed to beat jet lag you suggested grabbing something to eat, which Lando happily agreed to. Sitting across from him you found yourself oddly nervous about the shift you felt between you.
“What are you doing next weekend?” Lando asked and you looked up from the menu.
“Nothing, why?”
“Will you come to Qatar?”
“You want me to come to the race?”
Lando shifted nervously in his seat before meeting your eyes again.
“I’m calmer when you’re around,” he confessed and a small smile graced your face.
You felt a warmth spread through your chest at Lando's words. "I'd love to come," you said softly. "But are you sure? I don't want to be a distraction."
Lando reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "You're not a distraction. You're... you're my good luck charm," he said with a shy smile.
You laughed lightly, squeezing his hand. "Alright then, I guess I'm going to Qatar."
Finishing up breakfast, you finally made it back to your apartment, Lando lingering by the door as if he was deciding on what to say.
“I really like you,” he blurted out.
You felt your heart skip a beat at Lando's sudden confession. You stood there in stunned silence for a moment, taking in his earnest expression and the vulnerability in his eyes.
"I was wondering when you were going to say it," you finally replied, a smile spreading across your face. "I really like you too, Lando,"
Relief washed over his features, quickly replaced by a boyish grin. He took a step closer, his hand reaching up to gently cup your cheek.
"Can I kiss you?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours.
Instead of answering, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was tender and sweet, with the promise of something more. When you finally pulled apart, you both wore matching smiles.
"I should probably go," Lando said reluctantly, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. "But maybe we could hang out more before this weekend?”
“I suppose so,” you said with a grin and he smirked, leaning in to give you one last kiss before he left.
tags: @sltwins @honeyhyunn @heli991113 @sarx164 @kissatelier @dying-inside-but-its-classy @daniellef89x
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xx-reverie-xx · 3 days ago
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đŸ–€Sevika HCsđŸ–€
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just random sevika hcs. broken up into categories for general, romantic, and nsfw headcanons respectively.
i didn’t try very hard while writing this, so my writing is probably subpar here but
yolo.
men dni. minors dni. men dni. minors dni.
safe for enby lesbians. ♄
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general
* raging butch lesbian đŸ§ĄđŸ€đŸ©·.
* her place is messy but in an organized chaos sort of way.
* she smells like cigar smoke (in a good way), leather, and peppery mahogany.
* collects bottle caps. i can’t explain it, i just have a feeling she would!!
* has very, very cool, gay aunt vibes!!!
* actually an excellent cook.
* her carabiner is on the left side. she keeps the basics on it, so just her keys and one or two old key chains she has.
* in a modern au she would be into classic cars and the process of restoring them. her dream car is a 1970 mustang boss.
* on the topic of vehicles i can see her as a biker too. like, imagine seeing her taking off that helmet 
 swoon! imagine being her backpack 
 SWOON AGAIN!!!
romantic
* loves hugging you from behind
* if you’re with her at the last drop, she has her arm around you constantly. if it’s not that, she’s having you sit on her lap.
* this woman is a capital F Flirt. will talk you up one side and down the other like it’s nothing. if you’re just someone she happens to lock eyes with at the bar, you guys could go back and forth with flirting and banter.
* BUT if you and sev have been together for a bit flirting can get her flustered from time to time. you know *just* what to say to her to make her short circuit a little bit. no one can get under her skin the way you can. /pos
* calls you baby. if you’re a femme, she calls you her femme.
* surprisingly soft lips.
* kissing her feels like a dream.
* sevika prefers a partner who can take care of themselves. after all, she’s a busy woman and she can’t always come to your rescue.
* her giving love language is acts is service. need something fixed? in classic butch fashion, she’s absolutely got you covered. do you drink coffee or tea in the morning? she’s got a cup ready for you in the morning, *just* the way you like it. she’ll do anything for you when she’s got the time.
* her receiving love language? words of affirmation. she likes to know that you think she’s *good*. that she’s doing a good job and that you see that.
* would be so fucking whipped for you. you’re on her mind all the time. smiles when little things make her think of you. memorizes every little detail about you every chance she gets.
* she doesn’t have a type. like, at all.
nsfw
* stone top. there. i said it. no questions. no ifs, ands, or buts.
* nipple piercings 🙈.
* oh, she is eating that thang. this woman is a munch. she would know just how to lick or suck you to make you come before you know it. it’s a very personalized experience.
* she learns you inside and out. knows every. little. thing that makes you tick.
* vocal. like, as in, she talks. she’s dirty about it too. all “oh, yeah? you like that baby?”, “be good for me, i know you can take it” or “i know what’s good for you, now fucking take it”. she talks you through it every time.
* weewooweewoo WE GOT A MAN HANDLER OVER HERE!!!! she will move you every which way, any way she needs you to be. if you’re flexible, she absolutely has fun with that.
* has a collection of straps. different strokes for different folks, am i right?
* touching on one of her receiving love languages being words of affirmation 

* she loves to be praised.
* it’s something she would never explicitly ask you to do. it’s a subtle thing.
* it’s in the way she short circuits when you tell her how good she’s doing, how good she makes you feel. you can tell she likes that, knowing that she is good for you, in the way her hands tremble or her hips stutter or, if she’s going down on you, the way her eyes go soft.
* she will fuck you senseless and then be so, so sweet on you after. makes sure you’re taken care of, that there’s something for you to drink, has towels ready for you incase you don’t feel like showering for a while after you finish. seriously, it’s like two different people.
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okay thats it. i am obsessed with this woman and just wanted to share some headcanons i had for her while i finish up a fic i’m trying to write🎠.
cant believe my first writing here was some random hcs but whatever!!!
requests currently open for multiple fandoms, including arcane :).
dividers by cafekitsune
486 notes · View notes
andersonfilms · 1 day ago
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KNUCKLE VELVET, TORN ON MY TEETH
❝ VI!ONE SHOT ❞
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pairing. pitfighter!vi x bartender!reader
warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: arcane season two spoilers, soft angst, smut, bartender!reader, crashout!vi mends her cold heart, inexperienced!vi, switch!reader + vi, fem coded reader, coded alcohol addiction, slight spit kink, strap use.
KNUCKLE VELVET TORN ON MY TEETH, there's something charming about the pitfighter who doesn't stop drinking until she reaches the bottom of the barrel and the bartender who keeps walking her home.
wc. 7k+
rayray yaps. popping my vi!oneshot cherry, hehe, and i'm happy to do so. the vi brainrot has been real as fuck lately. i fear it's not going away anytime soon. but i wanted to give a special shoutout to @hypnagogics for proofreading this fic, means sm to me ily + my sweet bubba, @absfawn for the title name, i could kiss you until my lips fall off. the best people ever, i love them so much. okay, now i have yapped enough! happy reading, hope you enjoy.
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Trapped in the abyss, just when everything had been taken from her life seems to sacrifice another offering on a silver platter. Something else that she thought could be hers, but wasn’t. In the end, all of it was the same. Life is the same. She takes three steps forward, circumstances out of her control take her apart like enforcers imposing their will on Zaun, and she’s forced to move five steps back. It’s all she feels, powerless. 
Wanting nothing more than to drown her sorrows, forget all that she's lost. For everything that’s been taken, Vi feels an overpowering loss, threatening to take over everything she’s trying to build. But Vi thinks of none of it now, she can’t afford to think of one more thing. So, she doesn’t. All of her mind forgets. She forces herself to. 
Zaun, Piltover, Jinx, Vander, Silco, and Cait. 
She drowns in blood, sweat, and liquor for nights to come. She forgets everything and you are just the cherry top on this one shitty sundae. Anytime she’s here, Vi manages to get herself into a fight. Each time. Every time she tries to apologize or hold an ounce of guilt in her eyes, you see right through her crystal blues. From the very first night, you called her bullshit. Even if Vi didn’t give in, it was hard to hide her small smirk. 
She lets herself think it’s because you’re a bartender. You practically get paid to read people, listen to them vent about shit you probably don’t give two shits about and break up the fights that erupt every thirty minutes. Overinflated egos and drunken assholes weren’t a great mix. The jury was still out if you though Vi was one. She could have both, she didn’t really talk much. Vi fought, drank until she couldn’t see straight, and you helped her up to her small apartment right across the street and up the steps into her said apartment. 
No matter how hard she tries, it always ends the same. Vi looking like an imbecile and you, the pretty bartender who shuts down every advance she throws your way. Vi wonders who had a stronger shell, what you’re hiding in order to protect yourself. 
Maybe she is just an asshole. 
“You don’t have to walk me up here. I-I can make it just fine on my own.” 
As soon as your fingertips let go of her fragile frame, Vi’s inebriated body collapses on the concrete steps, grabbing onto the metal framing as if her life depends on it. 
“Really? Now you wanna prove a point?” 
“For your information, I’m always in it to prove a point.” 
Even if your words are harsh, with a soft smile and a hand open, Vi takes it as you let her lean on your weight as you assist her up the steps. There’s little shame to be had once the two of you make it in. It isn’t like the first time and when she noticed the scrunch of your nose in taking the smell, tequila and grease. Vi thought it was cute but she halts any further thought. 
Quickly, Vi disposed of her leather jacket and pants she’s left in boxers and the wrap protecting her chest. The part of her life that seems to be kept together. She doesn’t really mind it though, you. Seeing her like this. Even more so, she enjoys it. You’re always so dismissive at the bar, hardly holding eye contact, turning down any flirting she hurls your way. Just like the vomit Vi had nearly thrown up on your shoes but made a quick diversion for the bush to the right of her instead. 
This is truly the only time she knows you want her. Not so subtly, your eyes trace her like each pinpoint of your gaze is painting her on a clean canvas, one Vi wonders if she’ll like or not. When she’s been around you, she’s been wondering about a lot of things — thoughts she quite literally can’t afford. 
It’s her, nothing ever ends well when her feelings can get crushed on the other side. 
Everything she touches burns to ash before she can even hold it for a moment, a second of symphony retaliates with years of misery. How could you be any different? She wishes you would burn her underneath your gaze, put her out of the misery she feels growing every day, but you don’t. You’re always pulling her out of trouble when you truly don’t have to. It’s not your job to take care of her or hell, even look after her. 
But you do and she can’t seem to figure out why. 
“Why are you doing this?” 
“Just shut the fuck up and let me help you. Not everyone has a motive. Some people just like to help when someone is so clearly struggling.” 
“I’m not—” 
You give her a glare that seems to shut her up. You draw a bath for her. It’s easy to find her towels in the only cabinet. It’s an acute studio apartment. More so of a small room with a stove stop, minimal counter space, and one bathroom enough to bathe and brush her teeth in. There isn’t much left of it but it’s hers. Grabbing the first aid kit, you kneel between her legs, the mattress sits on the floor, her legs spread and stretching out in front of you. 
“Let me help you. Alright?” Vi grumbles, a incoherent complaint, but she lets you tend to her wounds. 
It’s mainly just cleaning off her dry blood as she still complains in the process, but there’s a few cuts on her face and her cheeks are already beginning to bruise. It’s not a secret, she bruises like a peach but she always makes sure her opponent is leaving a lot more with just a few cuts and a bruise the size of a plum. 
It’s then, when you’re concentrating on the cuts on her face, the busted lip she’s sporting; she looks at you. Maybe it’s the first time she has, but without even realizing it, she gets lost. Not in the way Vi doesn’t know who she is, that she’s completely lost on, but Vi sees you. 
Bright-eyed, optimistic, helpful, kind — all attributes she couldn’t claim but wears like a badge of honor. As if helping others instills you with a sense of purpose, something that’s always been a lost cause to her. Fight until the next fight, and the next, and the next. That’s what she’s done, she's always been a fighter. She’s fallen back on it when needed. It’s clear to her. Like a vision she could see, crystal clear through some stupid ball, it’s always been about survival. 
But how much longer does she want to fight and how much more does she have in her? 
“Thanks.” Vi speaks softly. 
Not knowing where to place her palms, she settles for her thigh. Silent as she watches, nearly analyzing every moment, every glance, every little thing you’re doing. It’s sobering to say the least. You don’t need to be delicate but you are. It’s more kindness than she deserves, nearly leaving a bitter taste on her tongue but when you offer a small smile and a soft whisper, you’re welcome. 
It’s the sweetest thing Vi has ever seen. 
There’s something different in the way you look at her. The soft omission exposes how sweet on Vi you may be. Definitely more than you’d let on, which was well
none. Up until tonight, she thought you hated her. With each word uttered in your direction, Vi assumed you’d rather swallow bile than stomach her slurred, flirty speech. 
“Why do you want to help? It’s not like I’ve exactly been—” 
“Kind?” 
“Yeah, something like that.” 
This time Vi lets the smile reach her eyes and your smile gets even sweeter. She can practically feel the sweetness rotting her teeth as she speaks. It’s the first time she feels something new, something as bright as the light radiating through your eyes. 
“You just seem different. Even if you do try to hide it.” 
With a flush of crimson coating the apple of her cheeks, she’s never been quite as exposed as this. The next few weeks are spent with less drinking, but Vi frequents the bar just as much as she did before. She orders a few pints just to talk to you. She’s learning more about you, slowly but surely, you’re opening up more. Divulging information you wouldn’t have before, trust is earned. It’s something you told her the first night you met and to this day, Vi still remembers it. 
Regardless of how drunk she’d been when you said it. 
It’s a typical night. Vi flirted with you but you aren’t being dismissive tonight but you’re careful enough to not let her know exactly how you feel. Everything you say is guarded enough you keep her on her toes, for a moment she thinks she might have to become a ballerina. It’s a slow night, Wednesday. Go figure Vi thinks. There was a woman who’d also been flirting with you all night. Vi thought she was beautiful, sweet, funny
certainly was making you laugh all night. 
Part of Vi wanted to feel jealous but it feels too good hearing you laugh, she says nothing. Maybe you just don’t like women. Vi was known for reading into things too much, thinking everyone thought with their heart first just like she did, and assuming every hot and attractive woman was into other women — just like she is. 
But the brunette left before closing, leaving Vi and a few other regulars paying their tab as they stumbled home with a belly full of liquor of their choosing. 
“Alright Vi, don’t you have somewhere to be? Maybe getting some sleep for the night?” 
“I don’t sleep much, it’s better if I don’t.” 
“Keeps the nightmares away.” 
All Vi does is nod. 
“Story of the century.” You take Vi’s empty pint before washing it dispersing in the sink before cleaning up the remainder of the bar top. “Everyone’s got one around here and the new one is usually even more depressing than the last.” 
“What about yours?” 
“If you wanna hear that, I’ll have to be the one doing the drinking.” You smile but it’s the first one Vi recognizes as insincere. 
“Yeah, seems to be the stone cold requirement for a heart to heart.” 
Vi’s silent as you vent to her about the customer who refused to pay up tonight until you threatened to kick his ass and that wasn't enough, you threatened Letty on him. Vi found herself only slightly entranced as you spoke with such color, your animated voice doing impressions of the stubborn patreon, moving your hands as you speak, eyebrows furrowed as you finished the story. 
You’re done cleaning and are ready to close by the time you finish, locking the door as Vi stuffs her hands in her pockets, “Can I ask you something?” 
You cling to your bag like a lifeline. Vi notices how tight your grip is on the strap, almost as if you’re afraid. Of what? She has a craving to find out. “Why’d you turn her away? She seemed plenty interested. Not your type?” 
You take a step forward, just as close as the last time you were in her apartment, tending to wounds she wouldn’t have really cared about but still she let you clean them. 
You didn’t have to know that. Not yet, anyway. 
“No, not really. I like my women a little rough around the edges, stumbling out of bars so wasted they can’t even walk home by themselves.” You smirk, grabbing the lapel of her leather jacket as you tug her closer to you. “Or is that what you want me to say?” 
“Is it true?” 
You both know the hope in her eyes is dangerous. 
Hope. 
A foreign concept in Zaun. If you get too close to the flame, you’ll get burned, dusting into ash as if you never existed. It’s what shimmer did to people, wipe them off the map until they reformed into a shell of what they used to be. You didn’t just get out of a place like this, not without some help. Vi could barely even help herself. 
The both of you know it’s a bad idea. A terrible, god awful idea, but you still move in closer to her. Vi notices and she wipes the smirk off her face, your warm hands finding purchase on her exposed hips, drawing soft circles on her hip bones. She likes it, even when her heart feels torn from being blown to bits by a certain blue-eyed beauty. 
Vi likes you. 
“Your skin is softer than I thought it would be, smooth like pure silk. Not that I’ve ever touched it before but I’ve got to believe it would feel a lot like this.” 
Vi feels a tingle up her spin, your touch is overwhelming, more than she bargained for really. A stumbling, messy kiss is all she really expected if anything. Not this. Clearly, you knew what to do. Leaving Vi a little clueless in that department, she’s knocked off her feet once again but this time in a way she wants to be. But actually bringing something this special to anything more than a few flirty quips? It never seems to be her strong suit. 
So, she puts her best foot forward. Her big stupid mouth, one she can never quite fully silence. “I can guarantee my lips feel a lot softer.” 
“Vi—” You speak her name like a warning, an unspoken law you’re breaking by entertaining your feelings and the bubbling sentiments you hold for her close to your heart. You know better than to keep it so close, but the halo in her eyes blinds you to reason and you let it. 
“It’s Violet but you can call me whatever you want, sweets.” 
You chuckle at the pet name. 
“Just one night. That’s it. Just to get it out of our system.” 
“One night, sweets. It’s all I need.” 
— 
It’s how you ended up here, the third night in a row since the first, trapped under the web of Vi and her eager mouth. Slender, perfectly sculpted fingers feel like a hex to your cunt, every moment causing you to fall further into her spell. To say she has a certain talent would be considered an understatement. It’s clear Vi’s enjoying herself, fuck, damn near suffocates herself in your weeping cunt. Last night wasn’t nearly enough, she needs to have you, again. Not that you were complaining. 
As much as you hate to admit it, there has been no one as generous as her. As good as her, as sweet, as kind, and she did whatever the hell you asked for. Nothing has beaten the first night, her thumping clit nudging against your as she hiked one of your legs over her toned shoulders. 
It’s not a secret how built she is, far from it, but it’s another thing entirely to watch her flexed bicep ripple with every grind of her hips. Each movement seems to be calculated with precision, focused on doing more than just making herself feel good. With pure determination, glazed over crystal blue eyes, and a pouty scarred lip, she makes sure you’re enjoying this as much as her. With each moan you let slip, her confidence only grows until she’s commanded full control over you. She takes what she wants from you and in return you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, constellations created in the shape of her name as you come. 
“That’s it pretty girl, just for me, yeah?” Vi talks you through  as she works you through your orgasm with her strong hips, not stopping even after you’ve cum. She wants more and Vi pulls three more orgasms out of you before she’s done for the night. You expected her to be good. There was no shocker there but you didn’t expect her to be so sweet afterwards. Vi is a drunk, an addict, whether she wants to accept it or not. You could be just another object she’s addicted to. Somehow, you convince yourself it’s just a one time thing. It doesn’t mean anything, it won’t. 
Truthfully it feels much more than just a one night stand, more than an itch being scratched — the blossoming ache in your soul feels tethered to your heart every time Vi makes you feel an ounce of love — even when she tries to hide it behind a wall. Whether you’re aware, the wall can’t seem to stop crumbling. Brick by brick, it’s coming undone just as you have. Weak-willed and with purpose, you fall into her. 
There isn’t an inch of your body Vi didn’t kiss. Her lips tattooing every inch of your skin with marked affection, almost as if she’s mending your skin with the burn of her lips. When she claims your soft lips, haunting you with the salvation of perfection as her velvet tongue invades your mouth, the taste of you melting from her tongue to yours. The silent declaration you didn’t ask for but craved, the carnal moan leaving her mouth as she chuckles when your hips pathetically grind into hers. 
Vi enjoys your company, that much is clear, but this time you bring her to your place. It’s more or less the same. Both of you coming down from the highest of highs, you feel sticky, dirty, and damn right heavenly. Vi disappears into your bathroom, grabbing a wash rag before dampening the material underneath a warm faucet. Carefully, she kneels by your hips, legs twitching softly as her skilled fingers find your slit before Vi’s sucking the digit in your mouth. 
“I just wanted one last taste before I clean you up.” 
As she has before, Vi makes good on her promise and cleans you up. She enjoys when the pad of her thumb grazes against your clit, terribly overstimulated, your stomach twitches. All Vi can do is chuckle. 
“I’m just a little—” 
“Sensitive?” Vi smirks as you hide your face in the palm of her hands, the pad of her thumb gently caressing your skin.  
It’s the lightest she’s felt in weeks. Almost as if she’s floating on a cloud, she wants to stay up there in the cloudiest of nines. Just you and her and an aging mattress as she offers you everything she can give. Albeit, it isn’t much but she’ll still freely give. 
Like a dog with a bone, Vi corners you on the third night when it’s just you and her in the bar. Closing time has long since arrived and vanished into the crisp air of the night but Vi has you bent over the bar, desperation clawing at the weathered countertop of the bar as Vi’s fingers fucks your pretty little hole while her tongue laps at the slick that’s dripping out of you. Your pretty little skirt pushed up, your panties pushed to the side as she laps and sucks at your juices. She can feel you dripping onto her chin and it only makes her that much more eager to swallow every bit you have to offer. 
“We shouldn’t be doing this—” Fuck. Vi starts doing tricks with her tongue, sliding in another finger, pushing against the soft spot buried deep as she toys with you in the way knows best. “We, um, Vi we said just one night.” 
“Shut the fuck up and take it like a good girl. Or did you forget?” Vi moans into your cunt, the vibrations causing your thighs to shake under her mouth. “It’s not like you were complaining last night.” 
Vi silences you as her pace picks up, her fingers fucking you at such a pretty pace, feeling the build grow in the pit of your stomach edging to come to a full bloom. 
All of you begging for it to be released. Vi uses her free hand to slap your ass, sending you moaning and lurching forward. You push yourself back grinding against her tongue, before she removes her divine mouth as she kisses up your spine, her fingers stuffed inside you not faltering for a moment. 
Vi continues to kiss up your spine until she reaches the nape of your neck, her breath kissing your skin, your body shivers into her touch. Full lips ghost over your ear before whispering quietly, “Are you sure you want me to stop? I will if you want me to. I just thought you might wanna, you know, take my cock tonight. Give it a good ride.” 
The moan you let out would put Aphrodite’s to shame, needy and choked sobs escape you as her fingers thrust inside you faster than they have before. 
“Oh? Do you like the sound of that, babygirl? Want to show me how good you can be for me?” Vi doubled down on her efforts, enjoying how much you arched into her body, your hips pushing back as you grind into quick fingers. She’s fucking you better than well
anyone. 
“Vi, please.” Your voice catches in your throat, hoarse and full of need. An insatiable craving; one you fear only she can provide. A few mindless days and careless flirting to land in her sheets, her in yours, the details didn’t truly matter. A vampire out for blood, almost more venomous than precious canines breaking the skin, you yearned to suck on every last drop. But she didn’t seem to be in a mind frame to relinquish control. 
“Please what? I’m not sure if I understand you.” 
All of it, so tantalizing, so fucking infuriating. Three fingers inside you, effectively making you silent, shutting you up as she brings you closer to the edge. That’s the thing, truthfully, Vi has you right where she wants. Only a few thrusts away until you come undone around her. The black haired succubus increases the pace, thumb playing with your clit, her calloused fingers increasing your high as she applies more pressure on the thousands of nerve endings on your precious pearl. 
“Shit. You’re gonna pay for this.” 
“What? For making you come? I hardly constitute that as a crime.” 
Your hands reach for the counter top, you’re not sure what exactly you want, but Vi makes you come for the first time that night. It’s a game, the push and pull. Dangerous. Intoxicating. Some disposition falling far from your fingertips, a game to her and a downward hill spiral for you. Addiction festering next to an open wound and the only antidote can be found on her tongue. Tasting the devil’s mouth is one thing but swallowing the sensation of the woman you’re beginning to love is something else entirely. 
Vi, despite her best efforts not to, makes you fall over the edge. It’s more than her eager tongue and expectant mouth slurping at the vindication of your taste. The craving builds like an exposed vein. Her confidence irrevocably soars like a raven through the midnight sky. Even if Vi acts like she’s done this before, you could pull the curiosity intertwined with naivety a mile away. Violet has never done this before, not with a woman at least, you’re sure of it. She’s a fast learner and such a great accomplishment should replenish such a reward. 
With the energy you have left, you push your skirt down first, as Vi puts your underwear back in place. She doesn’t stop touching you. She can’t. There isn’t much she feels she has control over, this arrangement being one of them. She’s good at this and Vi enjoys it. Every other part of her life, failure surrounds her, her ability not to please anyone in her life. 
In a constant loop, she finds herself caught in the crossfire. Tugged between sister and lover, family and righteousness. Her enemy becomes her lover and lover becomes enemy — all of it poisons her blood and cures her core — and all of it makes her hear a voice she doesn’t recognize but it’s just as true as the four walls surrounding her. 
Oil and water. 
Collecting like scars on her porcelain skin, Vi feels herself sink like an obliterating star. There’s a wonder settled in her chest, it feels heavy and weak, two incapable fists unable to surround her heart with anything but loss, betrayal even. She can’t punch her way out of this one.
All of it wakes a fire in her chest, a dagger being punctured in her heart by the one Vi thought she could trust the most. She doesn’t want to admit it so she doesn’t. 
But this? It feels easy. 
She needs easy, light, even good. Maybe she doesn’t deserve it. 
Vi definitely doesn’t, the sentence flows like a never-ending stream of waterfall continuously drowning her. The blood on her hands stains her perception of all things pure, she wonders how she even sees you at all. How you see her more vividly than anyone, possibly even Cait. There’s no judgment, no snarky remark of where she comes from. Even if she thought there had once been love, Vi questions it now. 
When you come, it feels like a breath of fresh air, a golden wave washing over her sinful hands. Each stroke of gold, your grit and blind hopefulness soaks Vi’s entity. This is what she wants. There’s nothing more than this, someone she could love, who loves her. It’s uncomplicated but the feeling flees as you come to it. Vi can’t help but feel regretful as you cover your ass, it’s such a pretty sight. She can’t stop that she’s greedy, you’ve fed her for the first time in her life and now Vi feels full but she’s only human. 
A sinner always craves more. 
She lets her touch linger on the gold between your thighs, pushing the white substance back into you before Vi lets you feel how wet you are, the dripping slick feels uncomfortable caged into cotton underwear and she wants you to feel it. The breath Vi hears are still heavy, impossibly heavy, and there’s pride in hearing you center yourself, back pressed against her chest as Vi keeps you in place. 
The pleasure within your body begins to slither away as you come back into the angel you are and not the sexual deviant bent over the woman who never pulls her punches. 
“Felt good, yeah?” Vi says. Her angelic, sweeter than the cotton candy stick in your teeth, voice penetrates through. You like it too much. It shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does. Desperately, you want to keep this casual but you’re even losing your footing. 
You pride yourself on the lack of attachment; you don’t need it. Never really had. But then with her it seems to change even faster than the seasons, your wall breaks somehow in between from spring to summer. With intent, you move around, her bright eyes have darken a bit but the fading light looks brighter than you’ve ever seen it. 
Fuck, Vi is making this difficult. 
“You could say that.” You speak softly, a tremble in your voice occurs but Vi says nothing but she does smirk. “Can I ask you something?” 
You turn around and suddenly Vi is staring at your exposed cleavage, the one you use to draw in patreons and to fill your pockets with as many tips as one can muster. Vi had been one, a faithful one trying to drink her away to the bottom of every bottle until she found something else for her. Something that didn’t leave a burn in her throat. 
“What is it?” 
“Was it your first time? The first night?” 
Sheepishly, Vi blushes. For a second, she contemplates lying but you’d see right through it. Right through her. It would only take one look in her blues and you would know. 
“That obvious?” Vi struggles with her words next but she manages to murmur a lame excuse. “Stillwater didn’t leave much time for this.” 
“And after?” You tease but the sincerity in your eyes soothes her. 
“There could have been but there wasn’t. Some things just don’t fit.” Oil and water is what she wants to say but she bites her tongue. 
“You should have told me. I wouldn’t have been so, I don’t know, selfish?” 
“There’s nothing selfish about it. I wanted to make you feel good. Did you enjoy yourself?” This time she makes your skin feel hot. Fuck. 
“Yeah, I did enjoy myself,” you pressed against her as your arms loop around Vi’s necks to bring her closer “but I think it’s officially my turn to offer my services. Don’t you think so?” 
It’s how Vi ends up here, in your place, in your bed — soaked. 
If there was one thing you knew, it was how to please someone. You managed to pull whimpers out of her she didn’t even know existed. The desperate plea coming from her shivering body as she spilled in your mouth the first time sent a shiver down her spine, the band in her stomach snapping as you sloppily spit on her cunt, constant circles of pressure on her clit seeing nothing but your eyes look up at her. 
Not letting a single drop go to waste, you fucked Vi through it, swallowing her completely. Vi shed the wrap covering her chest next. Her body bruised from the pit fights but you couldn’t think of anyone more beautiful than her. You paid attention to her collarbones, neck, and her tits. Sucking on her nipples as Vi tries to come down from the high you placed her on, she doesn’t think she ever will. 
She tries not to think that she wanted these things with Caitlyn. Cait. Cupcake. 
Vi only allows herself to think of her when she’s dreaming, visions of what that could have been, what she used to be. All of it so trivial, so senseless when she thinks of you. How you make her feel is different and she tries not to think of what it all means. 
One night. 
Then two. 
Now three. 
In another life, maybe she was stronger, and didn't need to be wanted. Hell, even needed. She could wait for someone who she thought loves her but the other part of her doesn’t want to think, she wants to feel. Vi likes feeling the softness of your skin, the light in your laughter, the swell of your exposed chest, the way your greedy eyes take in her abs, your soft lips kissing every part of her skin. The smooth, the scarred, the unworthy — you take it all in such stride. 
“Do you want to stop? I think I lost you for a second.” You inquire to the pretty girl beneath you, her hands find your waist, creating makeshift circles on your hip bones. 
“No, that’s the last thing I want.” Vi brings you to her lips, capturing your bottom lip, tongue invading your mouth. She tastes herself as your tongue melts with hers and the rest of her worries melt away. It’s just you and her. “I want to keep going.” 
“Then tell me what you want, baby. I’ll do whatever you want. It’s yours if you want it.” 
It’s spoken as a reminder. All of this is her decision. Vi decides when she wants this, how she wants it, and you’re letting her take all of it in the way she needs. Vi tried not to think the first couple times, she never wanted her first time to be a big deal. Maybe with Caitlyn it could have been, but then she changed. 
Vi thought maybe she could too. So, she did. 
“Can you—” Vi stutters. Yet again her attention gets pulled to your tits, the softness of your stomach, she can’t stop looking at you. As if she’s trying to remember everything about you. She’s committed to it. Vi wants to remember the soft curves of your hips, the way you moan when she comes on your tongue. 
The sight of you looking down at her makes she lose every rational thought, she wants to commit to memory forever. It won’t be something she easily forgets. 
“Gotta speak up, babygirl. Especially if you want me to keep my attention focused on this pretty cunt of yours.” 
You sit between her legs, tilting your head, you look at her glistening pussy, the way it shines with her cum and your sloppy spit. It would look even more exquisite with a little more. Taking a beat as you take your time, you gather enough in your mouth before spitting slowly, Vi whimpering as your spit makes contact with her lower pair of lips. She couldn’t stop it, it slips and you’re grinning, hips desperately bucking to feel more of it. 
“F-Fuck, need your cock. Please? I need it more than anything.” Vi confesses. There’s no need for dignity, especially if she keeps it and you won’t give her what she’s itching for. 
“Yeah? Are you sure about it? Don’t want you backing out just in case you can’t be a good girl and take it.” 
She can take it but she can’t take the countless teasing, trapped underneath the images drowning in her mind. This is what she wants, someone to dissolve into her, make her forget everything that has happened, just a pretty girl with some pretty tits who knows how to fuck. Right? That’s all this is. It’s all it can be tonight. Her lip is busted from the fight tonight, knuckles bloodied and bruised, but you don’t seem to mind all that much. It’s all the same to you. Vi is all the same, that’s been clear from the start. 
Then, she decides to let her mind get shut off, let herself fall into you. You did know how to take care of her and tonight she would let you. 
“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” 
“I promise.” 
Once the harness is on, you wedge yourself in between her thighs, tattooed and toned, brave and brawny but she transforms into someone else entirely once you’re sinking inside her warm walls. You think about what it would feel like to feel her. Is she clenching around your cock? Would you feel the throbbing heartbreak of her clit? What you can hear is the whimper, uncontrollable and breathtaking, you slip further into her as you make home in her beautiful cunt. 
She’s made it yours to take. You’d do anything and everything for her, the thought alone scares so you do what you do best, you grind your hips slowly. Not wanting to overwhelm her too quickly, it’s the first time she’s taking penetration and you want it to be good for her. 
“You’re so perfect. Doing so good for me, taking my cock like a fucking champ.” You whisper out, taking too much enjoyment in her getting lost in your soft thrusts. Vi’s chest starts to heave as her hips roll into yours. Vi never even imagined wanting this, or that she could really have it with someone else. It’s not like she’s experienced, she has nothing to compare it to, but it feels incredibly intimate. 
She likes how you’re being with her. Soft, gentle, delicate. Vi thought she’d never want to feel that way, but maybe it’s just under the right circumstance in the right light. 
“Shit, shit, shit” Vi chants as your hand grabs the headboard, giving her one particular powerful thrust. Perky tits spring to life, jolting against the sudden movement, her moan so fucking load, as you continue your movements. This time not as hard, but you pick up your pace, wanting to see if she would have any arguments against it but Vi doesn’t. Profanities and whimpers leave her mouth as you split her on your cock. Face half-smashed into the pillow, trying to muffle her moans and you offer this one mercy. 
She’s still shy. 
Now is a good time as any to fuck it out of her. 
“Do you want more Vi? Want me to go
faster?” Placing a hand on her abdomen, the abs defined and clenching as you halt your thrust for a moment. “Do you wanna feel me in your stomach, baby?” 
“Can you even do that? I’m not so sure you’re even capable. Looks like the rookie knows more moves than the veteran.” Vi bites back. But it doesn’t last for long. Vi thinks she must have said the wrong thing, pushed you too far, you slipped off her but only to move her body to the edge of the bed, placing her on all fours right in front of a very convenient mirror. 
“Fine. Thought I’d be sweet but that isn’t what you really want. If you want to get treated like a whore, I’ll fuck you like one.” You take a beat to appreciate her wonderfully sculpted back, the artwork is truly exquisite. It feels so much like her but the foolish girl is smirking at you through the mirror. 
You know you’ve been caught ogling at her body, checking out every inch of her exposed body, you slap her ass in retaliation but she just grinds her ass back onto you. 
“I’m waiting.” Teasingly, Vi arches her spine more. “Where’s the whore fucking you’re muling about?” 
In one move, you’re inside her, fucking her beautiful face into the mattress. Never in her life has she felt so full, so good, so sweet. You grab her by the meat of her hips, bringing you back on her repeatedly. Vi wonders what she would give to have this, have you, and the thought scares her just as badly. She instead focused on you. 
Tits bouncing as you thrust into her at a punishing pace. Divinely and so perfectly you, making her see stars, she feels trapped. Not in a punishing way, but in a way that has her never wanting to leave the entrapments of your coaxing cock. At this moment, this is where she’s meant to be, just a toy for you to use. 
But it’s more than what meets the eye. If Vi was just a toy, you’d be done after the first night. Tonight, you weren’t using her for your own pleasure. You seemed perfectly content to give. The shine in her eyes gave you something only she could, edging you even further, a constant wave hitting Vi like a tidal wave making home on the shore. 
“God, you’re just too perfect. Fuck, just like that, take what’s yours.” Bouncing back on the strap, the words fall from her lips before she can’t stop them. Overflowing like a water fountain, it’s before she really even realizes what she’s saying, it just feels right. 
“Mommy, please.” 
Vi has had those words on the tip of her tongue but not that you’re fucking her into a different dimension, she lets the aching plea slip from sinful lips. It’s only once but it’s enough to set you off. You pull Vi up, her gorgeous back pressed against your chest, sitting on your thighs as you fuck up into her. Brutally, she takes everything you have to give. 
Sweat glistening across her body, accentuating her chest as she tries to compose herself  but you don’t give her the option. No. It would be too easy, wouldn’t it?
“I want you to watch, Violet. Watch yourself when you cum, be a good girl and show me how pretty you look, hm? Wouldn’t wanna disappoint, Mommy, now would you?” 
Vi sucks on your middle digit, tongues swirling as she feels the tight band in her stomach, threatening to snap. She’s close. When the sensationally soft pad of your thumb applies pressure on her clit, Vi’s done for. 
“Shit, oh my fucking god, baby baby babbyyyyy.” Incoherent murmurs and moans come in abundance as Vi bounces herself your cock, falling right apart as you toy with her clit, fucking her through the impending high. Your other arm tweaks around and up, fingers squeezing her tits, over stimulating her as she slumps against you. 
It’s the easiest task ever done. Submit to you, your skilled fingers, the power of your sinfully sensational thrusts, she comes all over you. The powerful demeanor weakens before your very eyes. When you gently move her back on the bed, slipping out of her, Vi’s eyes begin to water from the loss. 
The first time getting strapped down is always a lot to handle, you’d still taken it easier on her, too afraid you would push her too far but by the blissed out eyes, she’d enjoyed herself. She had enjoyed herself and you couldn’t really ask for much more. 
When the both of you are cleaned up, Vi cuddles into your frame and you let her. Even if your first instinct is to push her away, saying something you know that’ll hurt her, none of it finds any merit on your tongue. For the first time, you find it difficult to turn away a pretty girl, her lips kissing your collarbones, up your neck until she finds home on your own lips, sloppily invading your mouth with your tongue. 
Hitting you where it hurts, she moans your name in her mouth, unable to contain the neediness she feels around you. It’s worse than Cait. This is pure addiction entangled with something carnal. Vi knows if she doesn’t get to fuck you again, you fucking her cunt again, she might as well give up on life now. 
“I could go again.” 
You chuckle. Of course she could. 
“Don’t know rookie, that might be all you can handle for the night.” 
It’s a challenge and you know she’ll bite the bait. 
With ease she gets on top of you, and just as if she’s done it a hundred times, Vi sinks on your cock, “I think I can handle another ride, don’t you?” 
465 notes · View notes
taeghi · 2 days ago
Text
FAST LANE
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his criminal background profile || his insta
sunghoon has a need for speed, and yn has a knack for getting under his skin— now they're playing a dangerous game, and the stakes? so much higher than they expected.
pairing : car thief!sunghoon x sarcastic!yn
genre : smut, light humour?? idk angst
wc : 12k.
part of the criminal love series
minors DO NOT interact!!!!
you swing open the backdoor of the club and it hits the brick wall behind it, but you don’t care. you just want to get the hell out of there. you huff and pull out your pack of cigarettes, putting it in your mouth and lighting it. 
when the nicotine enters your lungs, you start to feel a little less overwhelmed. 
you pull out your phone, briefly looking over all your unanswered texts that you’ve sent to your friends. they had begged you to come out with them tonight, but within the first hour all three of them had ditched you for some random guys. 
“fuck this weekend,” you mutter to yourself, exhaling the smoke frustratingly. 
the backdoor of the club leads to a practically deserted street that only has one street lamp that lights up the space around you.  you open the uber app and call one for yourself, wanting to just go home and go to bed. you can hear the slight thump of the bass from the music in the club behind you and some traffic from the nearby streets. you confirm your ride after you sigh at the price of it. 
then, a sudden movement in your peripheral vision takes your attention away from worrying about your bank account to looking across the street. you see a figure in all black hunched over a parked, black car. you can tell from his movements that he’s obviously trying to pick the lock. 
you glance both ways down the street to see if anyone else is seeing what you’re seeing, but it’s just as dead as it was when you came out. there’s no one around except for you and this apparent car thief. 
“you’re joking,” you mutter, the cigarette between your lips wobbling as you speak. 
you take a moment to consider your options. you know you should just ignore him and wait for your uber to take you to your warm bed. but the way he’s so obviously picking the lock of this car annoys you. 
you huff in frustrations before you take the first step off the club’s step and walk across the street to the thief in all black. 
“you know, breaking into cars is illegal,” you say, loud enough for him to hear you. he doesn’t let go of the car handle as he turns to look at you. 
he gives you a once-over, basically judging your appearance with not a hint of shame. a small grin spreads across his face, “oh really? thanks for the legal advice, counselor.” 
you can’t help but contort your face into one of disgust at his response. you cross your arms over your chest as you stay put. the man seems so casual and confident about breaking into this car with you standing right there. he seems almost amused by your presence. 
“well i’m just saying, if you’re gonna break into a car, maybe make sure no one else is around.” 
he doesn’t say anything but he laughs lowly as he finally pops open the car’s lock. he swings open the door and leans on it with an accomplished expression on his face. his stance allows the distant street light to gleam over his face, letting you get a better look of his face. his sharp jawline, deep brown eyes and moles make him insanely hot. 
“you should get out of here, sweetheart,” he says honestly, “a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be caught up at a crime scene.” 
you scoff, not believing the criminal is telling you what to do, “i can do what i want.” 
his face only stays in his amused expression, “well of course,” he spins and bends down to sit in the driver’s seat, “but you know smoking cigarettes is bad for you.”
your lips curl in annoyance from his mocking. before you can say anything else to the criminal, he’s slamming the door shut and throwing the car into drive. he winks at you through the window before he steps on the gas, taking off down the street. 
suddenly, a honk from behind startles you and forces you to turn around. your uber is pulled over, the driver calling you over. you whip your head back around to see the car thief, but his fast car is long gone. 
you huff and walk to your uber, getting in the backseat and saying hello to the driver. you settle into the seat as your driver pulls off the curb and you notice the way your skin is pringling. the adrenaline rushing through you causes your heart to stutter in your chest. all you can think of is the thief and the way he was so nonchalant and confident throughout the entire encounter. you had never met someone like him before. 
you try to relax, wanting to shake off the adrenaline so you can crawl into bed as soon as you get home.
you didn’t even want to go out tonight in the first place. 
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the next week, your friends had somehow dragged you to another club with the promise of  “this one will be better”. you’re not there for long and you’re already regretting agreeing to come. you head to the bar for another drink. 
you tell the bartender your order and he turns to start to make it. you notice a man standing beside you, and when you look at him, you instantly recognize him. it’s him. the car thief from the week before. the man you’ve been thinking about all week. 
his eyes find yours instantly, noticing your staring, and the smirk you’ve memorized spreads slowly across his face, “so
 you’re stalking me now?”
you snort, “in your dreams.” 
he leans  in closer to you, to make sure that you can hear him over the music, “well i wouldn’t mind dreaming about you.” 
you choose to ignore him, “aren’t you worried i might, i don’t know
 spill your little car-stealing secret?” 
“no”
“and why not?” 
you watch as his eyes scan your entire face, and then swivel down to your body. you feel your cheeks lighten because of him practically analyzing your entire being with no shame. 
“that’ll be eight bucks,” the bartender's voice beats you to saying anything. before you can reach for your wallet, the thief is dropping the money on the counter. you open your mouth to stop him, but the bartender scoops up the money and leaves to serve another customer. 
“y/n! what’s taking so long? come dance with me!” your friend’s impatient voice is clear in your ear as her hand lands on your shoulder and spins you around to face her. you turn your head back around to where the thief was standing, but of course, he’s already gone. 
your friend narrows her eyes, “who was that guy?” 
“i don’t know
 but he bought me a drink.” 
your friend nudges you, wiggling her eyebrows, but you just laugh her off. you lead her back to your friend group so you can all dance again. but throughout the whole night, you find yourself glancing over your shoulder, searching for a glimpse of the car thief in the crowd. he never reappears, and you’re left with a weird mix of disappointment and relief. 
after all, he is a criminal, why would you be looking for him?
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“night guys!” you call out to the rest of your coworkers, who have to stay late to clean the kitchen. 
you had to stay late at work tonight since saturday nights are usually the busiest time for you. so when you step out into the cool night air and away from the sweaty kitchen, you instantly need to light up a cigarette to take the edge off. you tuck your apron into your purse as you take the first puff for your walk home. 
you don’t get far into your smoke or walk before you hear the engine of a car pull up beside you. you don’t recognize the car, but you sure enough recognize the driver. his cocky grin fills his entire face as he leans on his elbow against the open window. 
“really? you stalking me now?” you question him as he slows down the car, matching your walking pace. 
“want a ride? or are you just gonna walk all night?” 
you don’t slow down, keeping your walking pace steady as you drag on your cigarette. you’re trying your best to not look so affected by his presence. “i can walk. unlike you, i don’t need a stolen car to get places.” 
he laughs and it makes your stomach flip. “okay, but this one isn’t stolen, sweetheart.” 
your eyes narrow at the pet name, but you don’t slow down your pace, “yeah, right.” 
“seriously!” he insists, “it’s my friends! he let me borrow it!” you glance at him, and he can tell you’re not convinced. “i swear! i wouldn’t let you get in a stolen car.” 
the last part makes something shift inside of you– something similar to disappointment. but you stop walking, mid-step, like your body’s decided before your mind has even begun to process it. 
he notices, and the car comes to a smooth stop right beside you. the street is silent, and it’s just you and him looking at each other, waiting. 
“okay, let me in.” 
he doesn’t hesitate to reach over the centre console and open the door for you at your request. 
you slide into the passenger seat and settle in, the car’s leather seats are cool beneath– but it’s a lot warmer in the car than it is outside. you shut the door, and without missing a beat, the thief shifts gears and pulls away from the curb. the city lights flicker past you as the car picks up speed quickly. 
you direct him towards your apartment as he tears down the streets. you wish he wouldn't drive so fast, just so that you could stay beside him longer. 
“so, why’re you walking so late at night anyways, don’t you know it’s dangerous?” he says, questioning you. 
“i got off work late.” 
“where do you work?” 
“ronnie’s,” you say, gesturing down the street behind you, “you know, down the block.” 
he nods, he knows the exact place. 
“why are you driving around so late?” you question him now. 
he shrugs, “had stuff to do.” 
“like what? stealing cars?” 
he laughs over the steering wheel, “no, not tonight. i had to pick up a payment for one.” you roll your eyes and scoff, turning to look out the window again. “what? you were the one who asked.” 
you don’t say anything in response. you’re second guessing as to why you even got in the car with him. you know that he’s bad news– but you’ve been so intrigued by him since you first met. he talks too casually about what he does, he’s completely fearless. 
“so, why do you steal cars, anyways?” 
he doesn’t need to think about his answer, he keeps the  fast speed of the car  as he answers, “because i need the money. and it’s a lot of money, and it’s quick.” 
you glance over at him, your curiosity creeping in about him and the cars. you wonder how much money he gets. “how do you even do it?” 
he glances at you, a doubtful look on his face, “i’m not telling you.” 
“why not?” 
the criminal doesn’t shift his focus from the road as he smirks, “because you’d get caught– and you shouldn’t always be in dangerous situations.” 
you scoff, “i am not always in a dangerous situation.” 
he dryly chuckles as he rests his elbow on the window, his head falling to his arm, “are you forgetting that you i met you because you walked up to me while i was literally committing a crime?” 
your mouth gaps open but nothing comes out. you can’t find anything to say, so you instead cross your arms tighter and look back out the window. you don’t mean to be in “dangerous” situations, but you can’t help but crave something new and adventurous sometimes. 
the rest of the drive to your apartment is silent besides the low volume of the radio playing some song you don’t know. thankfully, since he’s speeding, so you get to your apartment quickly so you can get out of this awkward hell. part of you wants to run out of the car as soon as he stops, but the other part of you wants to stay with him for longer. you want to talk with the man who’s been taking up your mind for weeks now. 
but, when the car slows to a stop outside of your apartment, your hand is quick to reach the door handle. you look at him, not knowing exactly what to say besides, “thanks.” 
he smirks at you, “just, stay out of trouble, sweetheart.” 
“my name is y/n! stop calling me that.” 
the thief’s smile turns into a mischievous smile and you hate that it makes your heart skip a beat, “i’m sunghoon.” 
sunghoon. the name rings in your head. you hadn’t expected him to have such a soft name. you can’t decide if it suits him or not. you stand up out of his car and onto the sidewalk. 
“good night, y/n.” 
“night, sunghoon.” 
you turn and head to the front door of your apartment building. you don’t hear the loud screech of the car’s tires until you’re safely inside.
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you’re walking home from your friends house, your lighter is almost out of fuel as you try to light your cigarette. the lit cigarette lights up your face in the dark night. you pass by the city’s old car dealership– the one who’s always trying to sell some broken down car– and you see the all too familiar figure in all black, hunched over a black sedan. 
you smirk around your cigarette, shaking your head as you cross the empty street and duck through the gate of the dealership. 
“really?” you ask, your hand on your hip as you watch him jump slightly. he glances over his shoulder in shock, but once he realizes it’s you, you can see his whole body relax. 
“why’re you here?” 
“because i saw you.” 
he rolls his eyes as he goes back to picking the sedan’s lock, “you’re not helping me jack this car, y/n.” 
you can’t hide the annoyed pout on your face, “who said i wanted to?” 
you hear sunghoon chuckle deeply, his attention on the lock as he speaks, “because i can tell you want to. and beside the fact that you’re still standing here while i commit a crime and you’re not screaming for help.” 
“well, i can scream for help if you want me to.” 
sunghoon glances over his shoulder at you, an annoyingly amused smirk on his face, “you wouldn’t dare.” 
your eyes narrow in response, you don’t like how he can seemingly always look right through you. it’s like he knows that all week, the thought of the large amount of money you could make by stealing one car has kept you up at night. how just one theft could change your financial life, just for a bit. money has always been tight for you, you’ve always lived paycheck to paycheck since you were a child. so, stealing one car with him wouldn’t hurt anyone, but it would help your wallet. 
then, a loud bang echoes through the dealership. it makes both you and sunghoon jump back as it cuts through the quiet night. 
“who’s out here? you better leave!” an angry, male voice yells out to the parked cars. 
before you could react, sunghoon is pulling  you down to the pavement with him, using the sedan to cover yourselves from the man’s view. you glance at sunghoon, who only brings his index finger to his mouth to signal for you to stay quiet. his hand is still on your wrist as you both crawl to the passenger side of the sedan. 
you can feel your heartbeat pick up it’s pace as you hide, pressed up against the sedan’s cool metal. you’re sure your eyes are blown out in fear. sunghoon looks the complete opposite of you. his eyes are steady and his hands are shaking like yours are. your heavy breaths make sunghoon look at you, quickly covering your mouth with his warm hand. 
you hear footsteps approaching your position, rocks rolling as the man’s foot kicks them with his steps. and then– a metallic click. a gun. 
if it wasn’t for sunghoon’s hand over your mouth, you think you would’ve screamed. you stay quiet, your eyes locked on sunghoon’s clam ones ass you listen to the man’s footsteps. they seem tomove farther away from the sedan. sunghoon pulls his hand away from you, “stay here.” 
before you could protest, he slips around the car, leaving you alone against the car, imagining what would happen if the man with the gun catches you. you force yourself to be quiet, waiting for anything to happen, telling yourself that sunghoon’s got it under control. 
then, the passenger door by your head clicks open. sunghoon is in the car, waving his hand for you to get in, “quick.” with no hesitation, you jump inside the car, closing the door after you as quiet as possible. you duck down, trying to hide against the seat. sunghoon is working underneath the steering wheel– until the engine comes to life, breaking any silence that was left in the dealership. 
“hey! what do you think you’re doing?” the man’s voice is louder and even more angry as sunghoon steps his foot on the pedal, causing the car to rush forward. sudden gunshots make you flinch as sunghoon drives forward, ripping through the gates and floors it onto the empty streets. you can’t count how many gunshots you heard, they kept firing after the car until finally the dealership was out of sight. your grip on the door handle beside you makes your knuckles turn white. 
the car’s speed scares you as sunghoon swerves through the city. he keeps switching his attention from the street in front of him to you beside him. 
“are you okay? are you hurt?” his voice comes out as frightened and rush, the first time you’ve seen him like this. 
“i’m fine, i’m fine! just– drive!” you force it out so he can focus on driving and getting you the hell out of there. 
sunghoon nods and steps on the gas some more, speeding through the city. you can barely see anything out the window from how fast sunghoon is driving– only flashes of the lights from the street lamps and stores. he’s quick to leave the city, driving down dirty country roads where the lights turn into tall dark trees. 
sunghoon stops the car when a break in the trees is found. he pulls the car into it and you can see the entire city below you. everything is quiet now that you’re away from the city. he cuts the engine. 
your chest is still heaving from the adrenaline when you look over at him, his eyes looking at yours at the same time. when you look at him, the mood in the car changes from panic to relief. relief that you got away, that sunghoon got away safely.
you’re the first one to let out a little chuckle, realization starting to take over. but then sunghoon cracks his own smile,  a laugh following soon after. then, the car is filled with both of you losing it, your eyes squinting from laughing so hard in realizing what had just happened. the adrenaline rush has turned from fear into excitement. 
before you can even think, your hands cup his face, pulling him into you. your lips impulsively kiss his, feeling his warm ones on your cold ones. but then, your face starts heating up in embarrassment when you’ve realized what you’ve done. you practically jump away from him, pressing yourself up against the passenger door behind you. 
“sorry, sorry! i was just—,” you stutter, trying to find an explanation, “i mean, we just got away! and i was so happy that—” 
before you could finish your ramble, sunghoon leans over the centre console and presses his lips back onto yours. this kiss is more certain and confident than yours. his eyes are closed as his lips work against yours, and yours soon follow once the shock has faded. 
sunghoon pulls away slightly, his forehead resting on yours as his dark eyes look into yours. you can tell that his breathing is heavier than usual, like his composure has finally dissipated. you can only stare back at him, your eyes shifting from his eyes to lips that you want to feel again so badly. 
“what
 what’re you doing?” you ask him, not expecting his reaction. 
your breath hitches when you feel his hands move to your face, his thumb brushing over the top of your cheek. he’s so close to you, you can hardly think. he murmurs quietly, “you make me lose all control, y/n.” you can tell from his eyes that he’s being honest– and it scares him and you. “everytime i’m around you, or even look at you
 i have to remind myself to focus.” 
his forehead is still resting on yours as he speaks. you’re sure he can hear how quick your poor heart is beating. “sunghoon,” you say his name but that’s all that comes out. 
he smirks at your lack of words, his thumb tracing along your jaw, “you’re way too good for me, sweetheart,” he lets his eyes close as he finishes the sentence, “but i need you so bad.” 
“are you
 are you serious?” 
sunghoon chuckles softly, “of course i am,” his fingers brush back the strand of hair on your face, “i’ve wanted you since the first time i saw you— but, i shouldn’t be allowed to want you. i’m not good for you.” 
you see the way his eyes tense at his confession, his jaw tightening. “you can want me, sunghoon. i want you too, so much.” 
he lets out a slow breath, his hands sliding down your body and around your waist, “if we start this, y/n, id ont think i’ll be able to stop.” his voice is full of longing and precaution. 
“then don’t.” 
your lips meet again almost instantly— the final strand holding sunghoon back breaks. the kiss is much rougher than the last two, setting the pace for the rest of the time you have in the stolen car. 
“you’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” sunghoon’s deep voice asks, his hot skin warm against yours. you want to respond, but he’s quick to gather your lips in his again. he doesn’t hesitate to push his tongue inside your mouth. he starts exploring your mouth, and you let him. wanting to taste him just as much as he wants to taste you. 
sunghoon’s hand starts to slide down your neck, making you shiver. he tugs at the bottom of your shirt before he lifts it so it pools at your neck, making your breasts exposed. his fingers hurriedly brush against your newly bare skin. you’ve wanted this for such a long time, every movement of his leaves you squirming with anticipation. you’ve thought about this man every night since you’ve met him in that empty street all those weeks ago. “so fucking pretty,” he whispers, his breath hot as it fans against your neck. you can’t help but let out a soft moan of his name as he cups your breast in his large palm. 
“it feels that good already, sweetheart?” he teases you, his voice is hoarse when he speaks. the nickname makes you whine out. it’s been repeating in your mind since the first he’s called you it. you nod, unable to form words as pleasure surges through your body. his touch is firm and rough, and you need more of him. 
sunghoon leans over your body, gathering your mouth in a hungry kiss. the intensity between you is increasing rapidly. you’re quick to kiss him back this time. your hands aren’t shy anymore— you tangle them in his hair and pull him closer. everything about him is so addicting. 
sunghoon breaks away from the kiss to get air and starts leaving a trail of wet kisses down your jawline, nipping and sucking on it, “i want to taste every inch of you— mark you everywhere.” he murmurs, his hands now on the button of your jeans, unbuttoning it. you don’t stop him from sliding the denim down your hips until your bottom half is only in your panties.
“you’re so fucking wet,” he growls out, his fingers dipping into the damp fabric, stroking your slick folds. “i can’t wait to feel you around me.” his words have you keen, your body needing him more than you had thought. 
he pulls your panties to the side, exposing your sopping pussy. he starts to tease your entrance with his fingers, circling your clit. the smallest touch from him has you gasping and writhing against the stolen car’s seat already. “please,” you beg, your voice desperate.  
“not yet, sweetheart,” his whispers to you with a tsk, “i want to make you beg for it.” with that, he slides two fingers inside you, curling them to find your sweet spot. he starts to pump his fingers in and out, his thumb working your clit in circles at the same time. 
your head is thrown back against the window already. the feeling of his long, slim fingers inside of you have your knees shaking on either side of his body. you can’t stop the whimpers of his name falling from your lips. 
sunghoon starts to pound his two fingers in and out of your soaking core. the squelching sound of his fingers entering and exiting filled the stolen car. your cries increased and you started bucking your hips up and off the seat, trying to match his pace. 
he only chuckled darkly at your movements, “relax, relax.” he said, his pace slowing down as he leaned over you and pressed his lips to yours. your eyes close instantly, taking in the feeling of his lips on yours and his fingers rubbing your g spot. 
“i’m, i’m close.” you whimper out to him when he pulls back. your eyebrows furrow as his thumb starts to rub circles on your clit again. 
“hold it for a bit,” sunghoon asks, “i wanna take my time with you.” is lips start pressing kisses into your neck again, biting and sucking on the skin. he wants to leave as many marks as he can— wants you to remember him everytime you look in the mirror. his hand moving quickly in between your legs kept you in place, pressed against the passenger side door. the window cool on your warm, sweaty back. 
“i c-can’t!” you cry out, you feel your orgasm approaching so strong and quick. 
you see his eyes darken at your confession, it makes your heart pick up pace as you watch a smirk spread across his lips before he speaks, “are you not gonna be a good girl for me, y/n?” the words rush through you and straight to your core, you’re sure he can feel the way your pussy throbs around his fingers even more. “are you not gonna listen to me, sweetheart?” 
you try to answer him but his fingers are working viciously on your pussy; two fingers continuously pounding into you whilst his thumb rubs circles all over your clit, so messily. 
sunghoon doesn’t like your lack of response, and suddenly his hand is around your neck, choking you with your head pressed against the window behind you. his fingers on his other hand don’t leave your tight walls. “i think you should listen to me, y/n. because sluts don’t get to cum, do you understand?” 
“y-yes,” you try to nod, but his hands wrapped around your neck forbid you. 
a smile spreads on his lips again, “good girl.” 
sunghoon leans down and kisses your harshly. he’s all over your body, taking control of all of your senses. he’s fingers are massaging your mesh walls, his thumb is spreading your juices all over your clit. his hand is threatening the oxygen to your head and his lips are taking your breath away. he’s all that you can think about. 
“you don’t like following orders unless it gets you to cum, is that right?” his voice is deep in your ear when he pulls away from your lips again. his tongue is trailing under your jaw. 
“n-no!” 
his teeth bite down on your jaw at your answer, “oh c’mon, y/n. don’t act like you’re not a slut for me. look at you, your legs spread open for me, tits out,” he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth briefly, causing you to cry, “admit that you like being fucked like a whore.” 
sunghoon’s degrading only makes your core focus more on your orgasm, your brain becoming hazy as the pleasure continues to take over your body. 
“answer me,” 
all you could do was nod with a weak whimper leaving your mouth. your body felt like it was on overdrive as you tried to hold back your orgasm for him, so you could be his good girl. 
“say it, say that you’re my slut.” 
“i-i’m, your s-slut!” you practically yell out into the car. you could feel the sweat dripping down your forehead– the windows fogging up, just from your breath. 
“good girl,” sunghoon smiles darkly. his hand suddenly starts to pound so hard into your pussy. your body was jerking up against the seat with every thrust of his hand. “now, beg me to let you cum.” 
“p-please!” 
sunghoon only chuckles, “oh c’mon, i know you can do better than that, sweetheart.” 
you swallow harshly, “please, l-let me cum, i need it so bad, sir.” 
the name falls out of your mouth so willingly that it makes that evil, lust filled look in his eye turn even darker. “then cum, whore.” 
with his permission, the overwhelming wave of pleasure crashes over you. “oh god!” you cry out. your body starts convulsing as your orgasm tears through you. your head is thrown back against the cold, passenger window. his fingers are relentless, fucking into you until you have to pull his fingers out of you. 
you feel your tired pussy gaping around nothing as you keep your legs spread, your body still as you try to calm down from your high. in the moonlight, you can see sunghoon’s fingers glistening. 
you watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking your juices off with a satisfied grin. “fuck you taste so good.” he moans around his own fingers, his eyes never leaving yours. 
once your juices are off his fingers, and before you can catch your breath, sunghoon is grabbing your waist and pulling you across the centre console and placing you right on his lap. you straddle him, feeling his hard length straining against his jeans. “i want you to ride me, sweetheart.” his voice commands, filled with authority. 
you reach down, your fingers shaking as they reach for his zipper. you so desperately want to feel his hard cock inside of you. sunghoon helps with the zipper, his neediness makes him impatient, too. 
in a second, his cock springs free from his jeans and you can see that the tip is already glistening with his precum. you can’t help but let out a quiet gasp at the sight. your pussy clenches around nothing but the thought of him stretching you open. 
sunghoon guides your hips, positioning his cock at your entrance. he goes slow, not wanting to overstimulate your pussy too much. your body slowly slides down, taking him deep inside of you. you both groan in unison as he fills you, stretching you perfectly. 
“fuck, you’re so tight,” he practically moans out, his head falling back onto the driver’s seat. you glance down at his exposed neck and you can’t help but reach down and press a deep kiss into the soft, smooth skin. his hand slinks through your hair, keeping you there, letting you leave your mark on him. “you’re so hot.”
when you’re done and you sit up again, your lips are swollen from leaving the now red mark on his neck. you’ve now adjusted to his size, feeling every vein and ridge of his thick shaft. 
“move, sweetheart.” he growls now, wanting you to set the pace for him. and you oblige. 
you lift your hips up and then sink back down, taking him in a slow, deliberate stroke. his cock glides in and out of you, rubbing against your sweet spots, sending pleasure coursing through your body. 
sunghoon leans forward, his mouth capturing one of your nipples, sucking and biting. “you feel so good– so much better than i even thought.” your pussy clamps down around his cock at the mention of him thinking about what your pussy would feel like. the image of his hand wrapped around his cock, late at night, moaning your name and fucking his cock into his hand, thinking about your pussy. “yeah? you like knowing that i think about your pussy? think about you?” 
you nod, your breaths quickening, “i think about you, too. i wanted to your cock inside of me for so long.” 
sunghoon smiles at your confession, and reaches up to gather your lips against his again. you quicken your pace, riding him harder, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. the car is filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, your moans and his deep whispers. 
“fuck, that’s it, take my cock, y/n. it’s all yours.” he encourages you, his hands squeezing your ass, guiding your movements. 
the pressure builds again, an intense pleasure coiling low in your belly. "i'm gonna cum," you pant, your body on the brink of another orgasm.
“fuck, okay,” sunghoon speaks breathlessly, “cum with me.” he grips your hips tightly, helping you by lifting you slightly and then slamming you back down onto his cock. he starts pounding into your from below, his cock thrusting deep, hitting all the right spots. 
you cling to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as the pleasure becomes almost unbearable. "oh, fuck!" you cry out, your body trembling as the orgasm engulfs you. sunghoon grunts, his hips snapping up, driving his cock even deeper as he spills his hot cum inside you. 
you lean down to rest your head on his shoulder, your body weak. both of your chests are heaving against each other as you try to catch your breaths. sunghoon rubs his hands up and down your back, soothing your weak body. 
when you feel strong enough again you start to lift your hips up and sunghoon helps you. he sets you down on the passenger seat before he starts looking through the car for something to wipe the mess between your legs. he finds some tissues in the glove department and he smiles sheepishly at you before he starts gently wiping the sticky cum and juices off of your core. 
both of you fix your clothes and you’re left in silence, the windows slowly unfogging so you can see the city down below again. 
as you sit in the passenger seat, the silence feels thick, like neither of you knows what to say. you keep your hands tight together in your lap. 
“i should uh, get you home.” sunghoon finally speaks, and you notice how he can barely look at you. 
“uh sure, right.” 
when he starts to drive again, he just stares straight ahead, one hand gripping the steering wheel as he changes the channel on the radio, which is playing some retro love song you’ve never heard before. 
you shift in your seat, feeling anxiety creep up your spine. this wasn’t supposed to feel so intense. all you’d wanted was a little adventure, a bit of cash, and maybe some time to you look at the car thief who you found insanely attractive. 
you never thought sunghoon, with his impossible calm and that quiet confidence, would actually
 want you back. but tonight, he let his cool, calm and collected demeanor drop— just for you. and now you’re left with wondering what it could mean. 
he pulls up to your apartment building not long after you start to see the city lights again. he taps his fingers against the steering wheel, glancing at the dashboard instead of you. “so
” he says, his voice softer than usual. “i guess i’ll see you around.” 
“yeah.” you nod, gripping the door handle, feeling like you’re supposed to say something but coming up blank. “thanks for the
 ride.” the words feel so lame, but what else is there to say?
he gives you a tiny smile, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “sure. anytime.”
a pause stretches between you, long enough that it feels like maybe one of you should say something—anything—to break the weird tension. but instead, you just close the passenger door of the stolen car and give a small wave to him as you turn and walk toward your apartment. 
tonight, he drives away before you can even enter the apartment building.
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you haven’t seen the car thief, sunghoon, in two whole weeks. 
you’ve replayed that last night with him multiple times in your head, you’re sure you haven’t forgotten a single detail. still, you think about all the “what ifs” of that night. all the things you should or would have done differently. you shake your head, cringing at yourself for the hundredth time. 
it’s late now, another night where you’re practically dragging yourself home from work. you’re wondering how your life can feel so hard and boring all at once. you tug your purse over your shoulder tightly and start your walk home, telling yourself to not get stuck on the thought of sunghoon again. 
and then, like your life is some huge joke, a car pulls up beside you. you don’t even have to look to know who’s inside. 
before you can finish telling yourself to not glance over at the car, you glance over. your heart stutters when sure enough, sunghoon is sitting in the driver's seat of the car. he has that annoying smirk on his face that you’ve gone back and forth of hating and loving. 
still, the hurt of being ignored by him for two weeks after you fucked is still fresh. you scoff, rolling your eyes as he slows down beside you.
“what’s with that? aren’t you happy to me?” he says, his lips forming into an exaggerated pout. 
you tell yourself to not look at him and to keep walking home, “no.” 
“no?” he mocks, pretending to be offended, “don’t tell me it’s ‘cause i didn’t call you! i didn’t have your number, y/n!”
“it’s not that,” you mutter, not sure if you’re even telling the truth yourself.
“oh, really?” he says, tilting his head. “then why don’t you get in the car?” you shrug him off and keep walking. “what, you’re suddenly scared of getting into a stolen car?” he teases, grinning. “this one’s my friend’s.”
you glance at the car, recognizing it instantly—yeah, it’s his friend’s. he used  it once to drive you home last month. you say nothing, eyes forward, and keep walking.
“c’mon, y/n,” his voice softens, the car matching your walking pace beside you. “don’t be like. i’m sorry! just get in, and we’ll talk.” 
“you didn’t have my number, but you knew where i lived.” you raise a brow, finally looking over at him, and he falls silent. he bites his lip, knowing that you’re right and he could’ve talked to you a lot sooner than two weeks later. 
still, he doesn’t give up. “please, y/n, just get in. we can talk.” you don’t answer, the thoughts in your head are so conflicting. mentally switching between how hurt you’ve been to how addicting his touch is. “i’ll buy you food.”
you pause, narrowing your eyes at him. at the mention of food, though, he knows he’s won. he stops the car, smiling in victory as he gestures to the passenger side. “get in.” 
with an exasperated sigh you walk over and slip into the seat, you hate how hungry you are right now.
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you sit in the passenger seat as you finish your burger that sunghoon had bought you. 
when you’re both done, sunghoon leans back in his seat and glances over at you. his eyes are aching as they meet yours, “i’m sorry i didn’t come to see you sooner.” 
you just give him a skeptical “hm” in response, raising a brow as you wipe your hands on a napkin.
he sighs again. “i’ve just been
 stressed. busy. work’s been a lot and i didn’t want to get you wrapped up in this mess. last time we were together, i felt like i did just that—dragged you right into the middle of all this car-theft stuff. you don’t deserve any of that, y/n. i just want you to be safe.”
 “i understand that, but i’m an adult. i can make my own decisions, you know? and so can you, by the way. you could’ve come to see me, especially after
 well, after what we did last time.”
he looks away, guilt flickering across his face as he nods, biting his lip. “i know. i just
 i like you, y/n. a lot. and i wish my life wasn’t such a complete shit show right now.”
“my life’s a mess, too. but i’d still make an effort to see you.”
sunghoon sighs, “i know, i know. i messed up, okay? i handled it all wrong, and i’m sorry. okay? i’m sorry.”
you don’t say anything right away, just look down at your drink, setting it carefully in the cup holder. “okay,” you finally say. there’s a mix of relief and caution settling in your chest. sunghoon is complicated, and so are your feelings for him.  “have you ever thought about, like
 you know, just having a normal job? a normal life?”
sunghoon snorts, “yeah i tried that, but not many people want to hire a guy who doesn’t even have a high school diploma.” you nod in understanding, so he continues, “and why do you want to steal cars? and don’t say you don’t want to—i saw how excited you were when we drove off a few weeks ago.”
you bite your lip, debating how much to actually tell him. you don’t share much with, well anyone. his pleading eyes convince you to tell him some parts, “well i’ve been on my own since i was 16, so money’s always been tight. so i just needed some more money. i’m sick of working all day, every day, just to go home, sleep, and start all over. i wanted
 something different. something exciting.”
sunghoon listens, but looks away, shaking his head with a small smile, “y/n, i get it,” he says, sighing. “but crime isn’t exactly the way, you know? it’s bad, it’s dangerous.”
you laugh, raising an eyebrow. “right. you’d know all about being bad, wouldn’t you?”
his smirk flickers, and he doesn’t deny it. instead, he just watches you quietly for a second, his expression unreadable, “okay but,” he mutters under his breath, “but it’s different now. ever since i’ve met you, you make me want to be good.” 
something in his voice makes your stomach flip. you’re both happy and scared at the same time. you’re trying not to grin, but his hand comes up, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and you can’t help it. it’s what you’ve wanted to hear from him. the look in his eyes is warm and knowing. 
before you can think twice, he leans in, close enough that you catch a hint of his cologne, and then he kisses you, his lips as soft as you remembered. and in that moment, you both know you’re already deeper than you meant to be. 
your lips barely part from sunghoon’s when the screech of tires slices through the air, and suddenly, the night feels way too quiet again. you both freeze, eyes snapping to the headlights of a dark car that pulls into the parking lot.
you barely have time to react as the car comes to a stop. three men step out, all of them wearing expressions that scare you as they start to approach you and sunghoon. they have nasty scowls on their faces and it makes your heart beat rapidly in your chest. 
sunghoon shifts, stepping out of the car without looking at you, without saying a word. he looks just as terrifying as the three men do. he’s tense and so are you. 
"you really thought you could mess with us and get away?" one of them sneers as they look at sunghoon like he’s already dead and it sends a chill through your body. 
“sunghoon, let’s just go! please!” you call out to him from inside the car. 
the guy who spoke first takes a step towards the car, putting his hand on the roof as he bends down to look at you through the window. his eyes are wild and a terrifying smirk spreads on his lips, “oh, you’ve got a pretty girl with you tonight, huh park?” 
sunghoon instantly shoves the guys shoulder to get him away from the car. and before you can blink, the other two men are pulling out guns, aiming them directly at sunghoon. 
“don’t talk to her.” sunghoon’s voice is stern and cold as he ignores the guns and stares right at the man who spoke to you. 
“relax, relax,” the man’s voice is calm, “we’re not here for her, we’re here for you. because you’re the one who messed with all our engines, right? all the engines to the cars that we can’t sell now.” 
you see sunghoon’s jaw clench, his hand flexing at his side. you’re unable to move, unable to think of anything except the fact that sunghoon’s standing there, unarmed, against three men with guns.
"you shouldn't have come here," sunghoon finally says, his voice low, "you're making this worse for yourselves."
the guy closest to him scoffs, taking a step closer. "worse for us? you’re the one who made this personal, park. we’re just here to settle it." the man nods to one of the men with a gun, “do it.” 
everything happens so fast after that. someone yells and then a loud gunshot fills the empty parking lot. you swear your heart stops for a moment when you see sunghoon stagger back. his hands fly to this abdomen where red blood is already spreading across his white shirt. 
“sunghoon!” you scream, your hands fumbling with the car door as panic overtakes you. 
before you can reach the group of men, sunghoon lunges at one of the men, knocking him back. the guy’s gun slips from his grip, making it skid across the pavement. it lands a few feet away from you. before you can process what you’re doing, your body is diving for the gun, gripping its handle tightly in your shaky hands. 
“y/n, stay back!” sunghoon yells at you, his voice strained from the pain of his wound. but, you barely register what he’s saying as you aim the gun at the man who’s holding a gun to sunghoon’s head.
your finger so easily pulls the trigger of the gun. the recoil of the shot makes your arms jolt back. the man who you aimed at stumbles back, his own gun dropping to the pavement as he falls to his knees. 
suddenly, the weapon in your hand is burning hot in your hand, making you drop it. the other two men freeze, their eyes full of confusion and fear as they scan the scene in front of them. they definitely hadn’t been expecting that, and neither were you or sunghoon. 
“let’s go!” sunghoon shouts, his voice hoarse. his one hand is pressed against his bleeding stomach, his face pale as he tries to mask the pain he’s in. he starts to limp the the driver’s side of the car. 
“sunghoon, no,” you snap, rushing to his side of the car, “you can’t drive.” 
“i’m fine.” he argues, but you can see how much the wound is hurting him. his face doesn’t look the same at all. he can’t even stand up by himself, he’s holding onto the car’s roof like he’s gonna fall any second. 
“get in the passenger side, sunghoon.” you voice is a lot more stern that you had intended. 
you can tell that he wants to argue and protest, but the serious look in your eye makes him give in, “okay.” he carefully limps to the other side of the car. he’s just closing the passenger door when your shaking hands grab the steering wheel. 
the other three men have scrambled into their own car in front of you, taking off down the street quickly. the pavement below you is a mess of blood. you ignore the sight and panic bubbling up in your chest as you slam your foot on the gas. your heart is pounding so hard you can feel it in your throat, but you force yourself to focus. 
“just hold on, okay?” you say, your voice trembling. “we’re gonna get you help.”
“no!” sunghoon tries to sit up, “we can’t go to the doctor, y/n! they’ll call the cops! please no!” 
your eyes widen further at the realization that you can’t call for help, that you had just shot a man who’s blood is all over the pavement back there. that sunghoon is a thief, that there’s no way he could get help without going to jail. 
“fine, fine. no hospital!” you turn the wheel sharply, the tires screeching as you turn down another street, changing the direction you were going in. 
“you’re a terrible driver,” he mutters, his lips twitching into the faintest smirk despite the pain.
“shut up, sunghoon,”
before you can think, you’re pulling up to your apartment building. your hands are still trembling as you park the car in the shadows behind the building, where no one will notice it right away. your heart pounds as you glance around, praying none of your neighbors are outside or peeking through their windows.
“come on, sunghoon,” you mutter, rushing around to the passenger side. he groans as you help him out, his weight leaning heavily on you. there’s blood everywhere—on your hands, his clothes, the car seat. you wonder what the fuck you’re gonna do. 
it’s a struggle to get him up the stairs without dropping him or making too much noise. you kept switching between praying for sunghoon to not die right here and for your neighbours to not leave their apartment. you unlock your door with blood that doesn’t belong to you on your hands. you practically drag him inside after you to your bathroom. 
“sit down,” 
sunghoon practically falls down on the closed toilet lid, his face pale with droplets of sweat trailing down his face and neck. his white shirt is soaked with blood and you can feel your stomach turn at the sight— the smell of iron strong when you pull the shirt off of his head. 
you force yourself to not stare at the open, bloody wound and to move. you pull open the cabinet where you keep your first aid kit. 
“i can do it,” sunghoon mumbles, trying to sit up straighter. his voice is weak, but his stubbornness is as strong as ever. 
“no, you can’t,” you snap for the second time tonight. you kneel on the bathroom floor in front of him, pulling out all the supplies you might need. “just let me take care of you, okay?”
he blinks at you, surprised, but doesn’t argue. you grab a towel, folding it up before holding it out to him. “bite down on this,” you say softly. “this is gonna hurt.”
he hesitates for a moment before taking it, pressing it between his teeth. you grab a pair of tweezers from the kit, your hands shaking as you sterilize them with some rubbing alcohol.
“i’m sorry,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him, before pressing your hand firmly against his wound. he tenses, a muffled groan escaping him as you work. you don’t think the bullet is lodged too deep, but you’ve never done this before. every time you move, he jerks slightly, his knuckles white as he grips the edge of the sink beside him. 
“hold on,” you murmur, mostly to yourself. 
with one more try, you manage to pull the bullet out with the tweezers. a trickle of his blood starts to trail down his side. you drop the bullet into the sink and grab some gauze to press against his wound. 
“i’m so sorry,” you say again, tears filling your eyes as you try to clean the area. you’re just hoping you did everything correctly so that he doesn’t die in your apartment. you just work as quickly as you can, bandaging him up and cleaning it so it doesn’t get infected. “done.” 
sunghoon pulls the towel out of his mouth, his head falling back to the wall behind his head. “you’d be the worst nurse ever,” sunghoon jokes weakly, his voice so evidently tired. 
you roll your eyes, standing up and grabbing a clean shirt from your bedroom. “don’t make jokes right now,” you mutter, helping him put the clean shirt over his head, wondering when your hands will stop shaking. 
he winces at the movement, but he doesn’t complain. he doesn’t want to make you worry more about him. “thank you.” he tells you, and it catches you off guard. 
“yeah, yeah,” you mumble, trying to ignore the way your cheeks heat up. you help the thief to his feet, guiding him to the couch in your small living room. he sinks into the cushion, exhaustion taking over his body as it doesn’t take him long to fall asleep after you give him a pillow and blanket.
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sunghoon stays at your apartment for the next few days, being forced to be taken care of by you. 
you make sure he eats and that  his wound is cleaned. everytime you see it you tell him it looks better, even though you’re never really sure. you suppose you say it looks better for your own reassurance and sunghoon’s caught onto that, but he doesn’t say anything. 
when you’re at work you find it hard to concentrate on anything but the fact that a wounded sunghoon is at home on your couch. on every break, your phone is quick to your ear, calling him, making sure he’s still alive. when he picks up everytime, he sounds the same— tired, but  playful. 
“i’m fine, y/n.” he says every time, you can always hear his smirk through the phone, “you’re going to make yourself crazy with all this worrying.” 
but you keep calling, and he keeps answering, and you can’t stop yourself from falling in love with his laugh every time. 
you have tonight off from work for the first time since sunghoon got hurt. you’re sitting on the couch beside him, his head rests in your lap with his messy dark hair sprawled out against your bare thighs. the light from the tv is the only light in the room. the movie is some action one that you randomly picked, too tired to scan through anymore of them trying to find a good one. so, neither of you are really watching the movie. your hand absentmindedly runs through his hair. 
you can feel his hand start to wander across the bare skin of your thighs. it’s subtle at first, just the tip of his finger tips grazing the surface. but they get closer to your core that your shorts are covering. your eyes narrow as you look down at him, “sunghoon, you’re hurt, stop.” 
he tilts his head up to look at you, his lips quirked, “but you’ve been taking such good care of me. let me take care of you now.”
you grab his hand to stop it from going underneath your shorts, “sunghoon, you’re hurt,” your voice is firm, “just rest.” 
he sighs, his head falling back into your lap. “i can’t rest forever, you know,” he mutters. “i have to go back to work at some point.”
the mention of his “work” makes your body stiffen underneath him. the night that he got hurt has been flashing through your mind constantly. the large amounts of blood, sunghoon’s groans of pain— the way the gun felt in your hand as you pulled the trigger. you can’t stop the way your eyebrows furrow in worry. 
of course he notices, “y/n, you know i have to go back. it’s my career. it’s how i get my money.” his voice is soft and gentle as he explains himself. 
“hoon, you can get a real job. i can help you find one.” 
he instantly shakes his head in disagreement. before you can protest more, which he knows you will do, he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your thigh, then another just above it. your breath hitches as he starts to press soft kisses against your stomach. 
“sunghoon,” you warn him, grabbing his face with your hand. he stops, his dark eyes meeting yours as he lets his face rest against your hand. “i please, i can’t stand seeing you in pain. it’s too soon.” 
a soft smile covers his lips, it doesn’t completely match his eyes that are swirling with lust. but he turns his head and presses a kiss into your palm. “you take such good care of, y/n. i’ll be okay.” 
his stubbornness makes you groan, “sunghoon, please.” you beg him again, thoughts of his wound stretching open cross your mind. 
but, he doesn’t stop. he only starts to press more kisses against your wrist and arm. his smile grows against your skin with every kiss. 
“let me take care of you now, y/n.” 
you sigh, the fight in you dissipating and the smile on his face has reached full peak. he knows he has won, that you can’t resist him any longer. 
“spread your legs for me, sweetheart.” his voice deepens, “let me see your pretty pussy.” 
you obey his command once again, leaning back against the arm of the couch and opening your legs for him. you let him push your shorts aside, letting the cool air brush against your wet folds. his eyes darken even more, his gaze completely focused on your core in front of him. 
“that’s it, my good girl.” his words come out rough and steady, “i wanna taste you so bad.” 
his free hand holds your one thigh, caressing it and keeping it open for his broad shoulders to fit between your legs. his touch is gentle at first. his fingers ever so lightly start to rub your pussy up and down, spreading your juices around, preparing you for his mouth. it had you whining out for him already. 
“fuck, you get so wet so easily for me. wanna make you cum with my tongue, baby.” 
he barely finishes his sentence before he’s leaning forward, his tongue darting out and tracing the outline of your lips. he’s teasing you, making you squirm and beg for him again. his breath and mouth are so warm against your sensitive skin. 
“oh god, sunghoon.” you moan, your hand reaching down between your legs to grab his hair, “that feels good.” 
sunghoon loves how sensitive you are. how easy you are to get moaning. “you taste so fucking good, ‘m getting get addicted to this pussy.” the vibrations of his words make your legs tighten around his shoulders. 
his tongue flicks your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. your hips jerked forward involuntarily, seeking more of his touch. sunghoon chuckles, loving the power he has over you. 
“tell me how it feels, y/n– how my tongue feels against your pussy.” 
you look down at him where his face is pressed deep into your core, his eyes telling you what he wants. his tongue is still darting out to lick every inch of your pussy. “it feels so good, i love your tongue so much. please, don’t stop.” 
“you don’t want me to stop?” his voice is teasing as he slow down the movement of his tongue on your clit. 
“no! no! please don’t!” 
sunghoon laughs at your begging, but he doesn’t stop his tongue from moving. he constantly alternates from flattening his tongue against your pussy to contracting it circling it quickly around your clit. 
“who does this pussy belong to, sweetheart?” 
your head is thrown back over the couch in pleasure, “you.” 
suddenly a harsh slap lands on your clit, sending you squealing as you sit up and look down at him, his hands still holding your thighs open. “louder, who does this pussy belong to?” 
“you!” you nod down at him, your thighs shaking from the pleasure and pain. 
“good girl– because you are my good girl, right?” 
“y-yes!” 
you see him smirk against your core again, “then cum for me, baby. cum all over my mouth.” then, he’s shoving his fingers inside your pussy, heading straight for your g spot as he starts sucking your clit into his mouth, his tongue circling it again and again– so desperate to get you to cum. 
“oh god! oh god, sunghoon!” you writhe on the couch. if it wasn’t from his hands holding your thighs open then you would’ve fallen off the couch. “i’m gonna cum!” 
his fingers are pounding into you mercilessly, “that's it, baby, let it all out. cum for me, y/n." his voice was a low growl, urging you on.
your orgasm hits you hard. all the worry and frustration you had built over sunghoon’s health all left your body as the pleasure came crashing over your body. your hips can’t stay still as they buck up against his face. you cry out, your voice filling up your entire apartment as the pleasure overtakes you. sunghoon holds you throughout the entire climax, his mouth and fingers never stopping— wanting it to last as long as possible for you. 
as your body starts to relax, you collapse back onto the couch, your breath coming in ragged gasps. sunghoon slowly pulls away from you. his lips are glistening with your juices, a satisfied smirk is on his face as he looks up at you. 
“fuck that was good,” you tell him, a smile spreading across your face in amusement. 
“i told you i could make you feel good,” sunghoon wiggles his eyebrows in response. you roll your eyes, sitting up on the couch and pushing him to sit up. he does so, slowly. his back against the couch and his feet on the floor now. “c’mere,” he pats to his thighs. 
“sunghoon, it’s too much. i don’t want you to get hurt.” 
he doesn’t attempt to argue this time, only grabs your wrist and throws you on top of his lap. both of your knees are either side of his hips.
“if you want to take care of me then make me feel good, y/n.” he says to you, his eyes still full of lust as they look up at you on top of him. 
you can’t ignore the throb of your pussy at his words, so you give in to him again. your hands grab the hem of your shirt and slip it off your body. you move so you can take off your soaked panties and shorts, leaving you completely bare on top of the car thief. his bottom lip is tucked tightly between his teeth as he takes in the sight of you. it’s the first time he’s seen you completely bare. and it’s just for him. 
“you’re so beautiful,” he says as he reaches out his hand. you think he’s going to cup your breast or touch your body, but his hand settles on your lower jaw. his eyes looking directly into yours. “let me kiss you.” 
you lean down, making your lips meet with his. the kiss is gentle and soft. it makes your heart skip a beat as he prolongs it. he doesn’t want to let you go. but he does when you pull away for air. 
“i want you inside me, hoon.” 
sunghoon smirks at your confession, his hands pulling off the hem of his shorts so his cock can spring free for you. it looks so hard and thick— the memory of it stretching you open in the stolen car fills your mind. you can’t wait to feel it again. 
sunghoon grips your hips, giving you something to steady yourself on as you position yourself over his cock. you slide down onto his length with ease from your juices and his saliva covering your pussy. you take him in deeper and deeper until, stopping when he’s all the way inside of you. 
a moan escapes your mouth, your head falling forward to rest on his shoulder as you adjust to large size. sunghoon’s hands rub up and down your bare back, soothing you from the stretch. 
“we’ll just go slow this time, okay?” sunghoon’s husky tone speaks in your ear— reminding you of his wound. 
you nod as you sit up straight again. you keep your hands on his broad shoulders as you start to lift your hips off his cock slowly, then push them back down. the first thrust already has you reeling. you continue with the slow pace of your hips, bouncing up and down on top of his thighs. you start to alternate with small, slow circles of your hips. you move them left to right and right to left. it makes sunghoon groan out into the living room. 
“fuck that feels so good, you’re gonna be the death of me.” 
“shh, don’t say that when you have a gunshot wound.” you reply, covering his mouth with your hand. you can feel him smirk against your hand, but he doesn’t remove it. 
you keep your hand on his mouth, making him keep quiet, preventing some of his oxygen. you focus on sliding up and down on his cock, making it hit your g spot everytime it enters your pussy. your eyes keep fluttering shut at the feeling of it. 
sunghoon’s eyes are burning into you, watching every single movement you make on top of him. he loves watching you bring yourself to the edge with his cock— using him. 
“fuck i love your cock.” you moan out, starting to feel the coil unwinding in your abdomen as the pleasure builds and builds. 
sunghoon then takes your hand off his mouth with his hands, you want to complain, to mock him for being disobedient like he did to you, but he speaks too quickly, “i love you.” 
his confession doesn’t startle you as much as it does make the pleasure inside of you turn to fire. it only fuels your need to make him feel good— to cum all over his cock. 
“i love you,” you tell him, leaning over to kiss him harshly. he keeps up with your messy pace, kissing you back the same way. your hips don’t stop bouncing on top of him as you make out. 
sunghoon’s hands wrap around your body, pulling you closer to him so your chests are touching. your own arms wrap around his neck. your chest is in his face as you focus on fucking him harder and harder. you can feel his lips start to migrate from your jaw to your neck to your nipples. he sucks each one in his mouth, biting them and swirling them with his tongue. 
“fuck, that’s it, sweetheart.” he words come out in a groan. “keep bouncing like that— you’re gonna make me cum.” 
a sob escapes your lips as the pleasure inside of you is about to spill at any second now. “i love you.” you repeat as you keep your head close to his. 
“i love you.” 
your nails start to dig into his back when you feel his one hand snake down between your bodies, starting to rub at your sensitive clit. you cry out, not wanting him to stop. sunghoon can feel the way your walls are rapidly clenching around his cock. he can tell how close you are to cumming. 
“are you going to cum for me, y/n?” he asks you, his voice hoarse and strained as he feels his own orgasm approaching. 
“yes, yes!” 
“cum then, baby. cum around my cock for me.” 
his words send you over the edge. your whole body tenses up as the pleasure overtakes you. it makes your toes curl and fingers dig deeper into his shoulders. you keep your face buried into his neck, letting him hear all your moans of his name. 
the second your wet walls started to spasm feverishly around his cock, sunghoon can’t hold back his own orgasm anymore. he lets out a loud grunt of your name as his cum shot out of his cock, filling your pussy up with it instead. you can only bounce a few more times on his cock before your knees completely give out with the rest of your tired body. 
you keep each other pulled close. your arms wrapped around one another as you both steady your breaths. there’s sweat all over you and your pussy is constantly throbbing around him. your mind is hazy as you try to comprehend what had just happened. 
sunghoon is the first to pull away, sitting back against the couch as he looks up at you. he laughs quietly at your tired face, your eyelids practically closed. even though he’s injured, he still gently lifts you off his cock and sets you beside him on the couch. your hair is a mess as it sprawls against the couch arm behind your head. 
sunghoon reaches to the coffee table to get tissues to clean up the mess between your legs. he presses soft kisses into your thighs as he cleans you. he makes sure to get every remnant of his cum off your pussy. he ignores the fact that the sight makes his cock twitch in his shorts again. 
sunghoon slips off his shirt and puts it on your body, covering you up. you hum at the smell of his cologne surrounding you. you can hardly believe how mentally and physically exhausted you are. the stress from the past week of taking care of him and the three men trying to hurt him really took a toll on you. 
sunghoon shifts you so he can lay behind you on the couch. he rests his head on yours as he kisses the side of your cheek. he stays there, close to you when he says, “i love you.” 
now, as you can think more clearly, you sigh, “i love you, too sunghoon but,” you turn over your to face him, eye to eye, “i can’t keep loving you if you keep risking your life for these cars. i can't constantly think if you’re dead or alive. it’s too stressful for me.” 
sunghoon looks at you, taking in all your features that he’s come to memorize. the features that he’s fallen in love with since the first time he’s seen you on the empty street behind the club. he’s seen you this past week almost pulling your hair out from worrying so much about him. you couldn’t even go to the bathroom without worrying that if you’d come back he’d be dead.
he saw the way you risked your own life for him during the gith with the three men. the way you dove for the gun just to protect him. he’s done what he never wanted to. he’s put you in danger. 
“if it’s between stealing cars and you,” he starts, his voice soft like a whisper, “then it’s you. it’s always you.”
you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face, “really?” 
“yeah, i’m done with the car stealing shit, then.” 
you grab his face and bring it to yours, meshing your lips together. both of you smile into the kiss— happy to start fresh with one another. 
“i love you.” you tell him again, pulling back to press kisses all over his face out of pure happiness. 
sunghoon laughs as you kiss him, “i love you, too.” he wraps his arms around your body, pulling you against his large frame, “but you should sleep now, i find out what your mouth feels like around my cock later.” he fake winces in pain when you shove him his shoulder— making you laugh before you settle against his body again. 
both of your eyes close as you drift off to sleep together on the couch. 
now that sunghoon has hit the brakes and left the fast lane for you, there’s no more danger or crime— just the two of you. and that’s all you could ever ask for.
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 days ago
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Teenage Dirtbag III
Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Teen!Reader
Summary: You get a job
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The mural appears on the building in the middle of the night but it's on the morning news show that moment the sun comes up.
You stubbornly ignore the screen as you stare down at your bowl of cereal, the smallest of smiles on your face as you offer a dry cornflake to little Vince, who takes it and scampers off to eat it at the other end of the table.
"I wish you wouldn't let him up there," Mapi says and you roll your eyes.
"You let Bagheera up here."
"That's different."
"Is it because he's a boy? Is that it?"
Mapi lets out a little bark of laughter for a moment before flicking you in the ear. "I'm worried he's going to fall and hurt himself."
Your kitten peers over the edge of the table after eating his cereal, little legs wiggling in preparation to leap as his half ear flicks happily.
"I think he's survived worse."
Mapi rolls her eyes, plucking Vince off the table and placing him on the floor before she makes her morning coffee.
Ingrid's the one watching the news, her brow furrowed as she listens to the report.
"Well," You say, pushing out and up from the table," I'm going to head to school. I'll see you later."
Ingrid's eyes narrow at your abrupt exit and you don't slow down enough for her to open her mouth.
The path to your school is a familiar one, a fancy private school that Ingrid probably pays an extortionate fee to send you to but is still leagues above the boarding school you used to attend in Norway.
But you've still got a blazer to wear and a shirt and tie - not even one of those clip on ones. It's a proper tie that you've got to tie everyday.
Your skateboard wheels roll over the pavement, earphones thumping with music, as you approach the building. There's a teacher at the gate and they give you a look of disapproval as you come rolling past.
"Hoodie off, Engen," They say," You know the rules."
You roll your eyes as you continue on your way, making a show of stripping off the hoodie you've got on under your blazer just as you make it through the double doors - where it goes straight back on again.
School in Spain isn't really that different to school in Norway apart from the fact that everyone's speaking Spanish.
That's not really difficult either - Spanish that is. You've already got Norwegian and English, and Spanish wasn't really too complex of a language to learn either.
Sure, you've got a bit of an accent and sometimes have to take a moment to think through your grammar but it's nothing that makes it impossible to communicate.
"Off the skateboard, Engen," Another teacher says as you ride down the corridor on your board.
"Will do," You lie through your teeth.
The speed of your skateboard is the only thing keeping you away from the gaggle of girls that follow your every move.
Back at home, Mapi thinks it's hilarious. Ingrid says it's sweet.
You think it's annoying. It's bad enough to appear in the middle of the school year and have everyone automatically know who you are. It's worse when a group of giggling girls try to follow you around all the time. You kind of just want to fade into the background.
"I thought the teacher just asked you to get off that skateboard?"
You roll to a stop in front of one of the prefects.
"I mean...they didn't exactly say when I was meant to get off the skateboard? Just that I should get off it?"
She rolls her eyes, arms crossed over her chest. "You know what they meant."
"Do you ever get tired of being so stuck up?" You ask with a cheeky grin.
"Do you ever get tired of pushing boundaries?"
You shrug. "It's part of my charm."
"Yeah, charm," She scoffs," Let's call it that. You know, I should write you up for dress code. You know you're not meant to wear hoodies to school."
"So I've been told."
"Or trainers."
"They're comfortable."
"Or leave your tie undone."
"I don't like the feeling on my neck."
"And that hairband? Black only."
"What? So I can't wear a red hair tie but you can wear pink ribbons? How's that fair?!"
"So now you're trying to fight with me about it?" She asks, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards," I really should write you up."
Your eyes narrow, nose scrunching up. "You're teasing me."
"What gave it away?"
"I hate you."
"No you don't, Engen. But I do have a note that I was meant to give you during registration. Here, you're excused after lunch. Your sisters are picking you up."
You stare down at the note from the office in your hand as she walks off with her stupid pastel pink hair ribbons.
"Hey! Mapi's not my sister!" You yell after her but she doesn't stop to argue with you about it.
You kind of wish she did.
You shake that thought away though, tucking your skateboard safely under your arm as you make your way over to registration.
School is boring like it always is, even though Ingrid's insisted on them giving you challenging work in the hope of keeping you engaged. She doesn't need to know that you're still skipping classes to hang out in the art rooms with that one eccentric art teacher that can't remember your name but does know the exact brand of spray paint that you love.
You're more than happy to sign yourself out for the day with your hood flipped up as you make your way over to Ingrid's car.
You take a glance back at the building, up to the second floor where that girl is sitting with her stupid pink ribbons, staring bored outside of the History class window.
You know she sees you and you know she sees you put your middle fingers up at her.
"Do you have to do that?" Ingrid asks as you slide into the back seat, slamming the door closed behind you. "You're going to ruin my doors."
"The club will just give you a new car," You say dismissively, plugging your phone into one of Mapi's many chargers. "So...Why am I being let out early?"
"We can't want to do something nice for you?" Ingrid hums, pulling out of the school gates and onto the road.
"Not at lunchtime on a Tuesday," You reply and Mapi snickers in the passenger seat," Don't you guys have training or something?"
"It's almost like you want to be in school," Mapi teases," We can always turn around and drive you back."
"I'm good," You say," But, you know, I haven't eaten yet. Can we grab something first?"
It's hours (and one burger) later that has Ingrid watching you from her passing exercise with Esmee.
Your white school shirt is stained with spray paint and she's ninety percent sure that it's never going to be white again. Your blazer is a heap on the floor and your hoodie sleeves are pushed up to reveal a pastel pink ribbon tied around one of your wrists.
You're totally in the zone though as you adjust your hastily made stencils and step back to review your work.
Ingrid's pretty sure someone could scream your name and you wouldn't even notice, too preoccupied with setting up base layers and a few shapes.
"How it's going?" Mapi asks," It looks..."
Well Mapi can't quite tell how it looks because it's just a bunch of colours and vague shape blobs to her.
"I think I'm going to make the focal point the Champion's League trophy," You say," And then everyone spread out around it."
Mapi tries to picture it but the vague blobs and splashes of colour look just like that to her, no hint of what you can clearly see within it. "Cool," Is all she can say in response.
"It'll look good," You reply," I promise."
"I trust you," Mapi says," I'm just a little sad that I'm clearly not seeing what you're seeing."
"Give it a few days," You promise," And it'll come together."
"I look forward to seeing it," Ingrid says as she approaches.
She's with Mapi, unable to see what you can in the splash of colour and swirls but she's seen enough of your work to know that it all starts off like this.
"Besides," Ingrid says, slipping her hand into yours," Maybe with this to work on, you won't go around tagging random buildings that make it on the news."
"You can't prove that was me," You reply, not taking your eyes off the wall in front of you," They were saying it could be Banksy or someone else trying to make a statement."
"Don't be stupid," You sister says," I can recognise your work anywhere."
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madamechrissy · 1 day ago
Text
Cursed Promises
Pairings: Sukuna x Fem reader
CW: This chap, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, Sukuna calls you little bunny lmao, soft Sukuna in places, reader is a lil innocent thing, gonna get A LOT freakier as we go, true form Sukuna
Summary: You have been promised to Ryomen Sukuna, King of curses, for as long as you've been alive, ostracized from your village, 'special'. Now you are to marry him, sight unseen. People everywhere fear him, but will you find yourself intrigued by him. Just who is the King of Curses to his new wife? Arranged marriage au
A/N: Finally writing Sukuna oof I'm nervous aha- SMUT with feelings. Gonna be like four parts to this, so a short fic! Monsterfking and fluff lol- Taglist open <3 Comments/ reblogs appreciated ❀
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Part One
Today, you are to marry King Ryomen Sukuna, the demon king of curses, you’ve known this your whole life, this is what you were chosen for. The special girl in your village raised to one day be his bride, however you did not feel special growing up, if anything you were just different. You could not even play with other children normally, you had to have special care taken, and others whispered of you.
You were now twenty years old, the wedding was supposed to be a couple of years ago, but was put off due to Sukuna being away during a war, battling and being gone for long. He was now back, and claiming what was his, though you had never even met him, you had heard the tales, the frightening ones of him, how he ransacked villages, ended lives.
Your village was protected and saved because of you, as if you’re a sacrificial lamb being led to the slaughter, a thing to be whispered of, because you alone possess energy, energy you truly have no clue of, but it makes you special. You now are standing in the most beautiful and elegant robes, everyone was speaking of your beauty, smiling at you, but you saw it, the fear in their eyes.
The tears in your mother’s eyes, and the sullen look on your father’s face, even your terrified little siblings, and you have to wonder, is he so terrible and cruel? And is your life over already? You take several breaths, clutching the flowers in your hand so tightly a thorn pricks your finger, crimson blood dripping down.
You peer at the finger, sighing now, inside the high castle walls of the king, contemplating how everything had happened so quickly. Even knowing your life belonged to him, you still lived relatively normal, until that royal emissary had come, and told you now was the time, the great honor bestowed upon you.
The way they speak of him
 Would you even survive?
Your steps feel heavy as you walk through the halls of the palace, your heels clicking on stone floors, decked out in royal, beautiful robes, guards on the other side of you, for if you choose to run you will be captured. You knew that, and had no intention of running, for you want your family and the village to be safe, even if they seemingly threw you to the wolves.
Or, wolf that is.
Your heart beating a frantic rhythm in your chest, you try to stop your heavy breaths, to slow them, as the guards open the ornate doors, revealing the enormous room before you, where many have gathered to see. You look down at the floor beneath you, trembling at the thought, feeling his immense presence before you even look upon him.
It was as if the entire room trembled in fear from him, and you could feel it, his gaze upon you, as you continued to step slowly, one foot in front of the other, now the eyes of everyone in the room were on you. You feel the weight of this arranged marriage heavy on your shoulders, the fate of so many depend on it.
You finally get closer and look up slowly, studying his form in his white robes, thick and muscled and so tall, so big he towers over everyone. You trail your gaze up his broad chest, to his four broad arms, the veins wrapping around each forearm, huge hands on each one with long black nails, like daggers. You nearly trip then, and one of his large hands grasps your waist, taking it over like you’re nothing.
You’re shaking now, eyes darting up to his face, an arrogant smirk on it, and ruby red eyes staring down at you. Four of those eyes, assessing you in that gown, his long fingers curling at the nip of your waist, burning you through the robes. His presence is so intimidating and intense, but

You’re not scared?
His hand feels so
 you cannot describe it, the burn of his touch, the insane feelings you’re having all at once, like you can’t breathe. He’s so huge everyone has to crank their necks, you feel so small in his grasp, next to him, barely reaching his chest, which you see somewhat from the opening of his robes, the strong muscles and taut skin, before darting back to his face.
“Tch, clumsy girl.” He huffs, setting you in front of him now, and you curtsey low in your robes, eyes down.
“Forgive me, my King.” You murmur, trying to be obedient, it’s what you were taught, right? He scoffs, crossing one set of his arms, tilting his head at you, he has shockingly light pink hair, a color you’ve never seen, raising a dark arrogant brow, the candles are flickering and casting shadows in the grand hall, making him look even more intimidating.
“Hmm.” Is all he responds, taking your hand in one of his, it absolutely swallows yours, and you both turn to look at the orator, who now will start the ceremony, and you stand and bow your head, as he locks you both together.
You are now Ryomen Sukuna’s bride.
You look up as he is supposed to kiss you, it would be your first kiss, he leans so low, bending at the waist, and you prepare for it, shutting your eyes, how would it be, to kiss the King of Curses? However he merely brushes his lips against yours for a brief moment, before stepping away, and announcing you as his bride.
The anticipation kills you every moment, as you watch his concubines dance for him, but his ruby eyes keep flickering back to you, constantly, even as he drinks from his golden goblet, and even as several women run their hands on his chest. You think that’s for the best, perhaps he will have no interest in you, for you’re a simple village girl, many speak of your beauty, but you’re not worldly or experienced like them.
Perhaps he will not do more than what is necessary, and spare you from supposed cruelty. You’ve heard so many tales of what he has done, however you did not feel any cruelty when he held you, when he brushed his lips upon yours, but maybe you’re a bit naive, so sheltered to be the perfect wife for him.
You’re taken to your new chambers now, they are luxurious and beautiful, regal and fit for a Queen. You are a Queen, aren’t you now? It’s insane to take in, while your lady’s maid begins undressing you, you take in the surroundings, the red and gold ornate decorations, the low bed that has a canopy above it, draped with the same white and gold Sukuna himself wears.
Your peer in the looking glass, draped in a thin red yukata, with nothing underneath, your breasts are apparent, the opening exposing the valley between them, making your cheeks heat up. You feel the silk against your bare skin, floating across your body, knowing you’re naked under it makes you so nervous, as you know your duty will be to give the King his heirs.
You have very little knowledge, your mother had said to lay there and endure it, and that you would love your children, so that would get you through. The thoughts about that are purely horrific, you do not know anything aside from that, that he would lay on top of you and give you babies. You also know men seek pleasure elsewhere, not with their wives.
You don’t know what to think, but your heart falters when the door to your chamber opens, and Sukuna’s standing in your doorway, so massive he takes it over entirely. His eyes glint as he studies your body slowly, his sharp tongue darting to lick a lower lip, you fiddle nervously with your hands as he shuts the door behind him with a resounding click.
“My king, I hope I please you.” You say, dipping obediently, and he laughs then, the sound booming, a snarky look on his face.
“You’re trained to say everything right, perfect little thing huh?” He walks to you, one of his hands tilting up your chin, the sharp black nail pressing under it.
“I am meant to bear your children. It’s my duty.”
He scoffs now. “Your duty, hmm? Tell me, are you afraid of me little bunny?” You glare then, earning his chuckle.
“Little bunny!”
“A lamb for slaughter, surely, but also a little bunny frozen, afraid of the big bad wolf hmm?” His hands trail down the edges of your wrapped kimono, you struggle to keep any composure.
“You need not tease me, I know how it’s done.”
He’s grinning now with his sharp teeth, his two bottom eyes squinting to almost lines, the top two crinkling at the corners. “Oh, show me then, wife.”
You stomp over to the bed now as he laughs, taking several breaths and laying on your back, staring up at the canopy. Now he’s laughing louder, and you peer your head down. “What, you’re supposed to
 give me babies.”
“Holy fuck this is rich.” He snorts now, walking to you, hovering over you.
“Well I know I
 here.” You slip the knot of your robe off, baring your body then, and watch his breath catch, desire flaring in his eyes. “I’m supposed to be naked for you
 do I displease?” You ask, as he backs away then.
“Displease
 foolish brat.” He looks away for a moment, before exhaling and sitting you up on the bed instead, eyes drinking in every bit of your body slowly, tantalizingly, you’re breathing even faster, knees knocking from your nerves. “You’re terrified.”
“I am not! You may
 do it.” You spread your thighs, eyes shut now, and he sighs, two of his hands slipping up your thighs now, the other two cupping your face, surprising you.
“You think it will be so terrible, your duty?” He speaks through gritted teeth, you keep your eyes shut, staying still.
“My mother said I shall endure it.” He sighs now, tracing your jaw, his huge hands surprisingly delicate, then you gasp as his other hands sliding up your thighs grow tongues. “Ah! What!?”
Your eyes lock onto his, and he’s so close you can inhale him, this musky heady scent that makes your tummy clench. “You think I, King of curses, don’t please those who enter my bed?”
“I
 you mean all those girls?”
He tilts his head, the tongues lapping at your skin again. “I’m in here, aren’t I?”
“But you’ll find pleasure with them, I am only your duty.” You murmur, looking down, he hums to himself.
“Tch, you are
 your body
” He trails off then, sighing. “I will not sleep with you tonight.”
“So I do displease!” You blink back tears.
“God you’re quite annoying. Just
 shut up.” You glare now, and he grins. “I like that angry look, little bunny.”
“I am not a bunny! I
 ah!” Sukuna’s hands are slipping up your thighs further, his other two sliding to your breasts, exhaling as he squishes them, black nails pressing into tender flesh, but it feels so good. You’re getting wet between your thighs, confusing and embarrassing you, making you pull away.
“Ah-ah, brat. Where do you think you’re going?” He’s moaning now, kneeling between your thighs, the King is kneeling before you!? It seems like insanity, his hot breaths now between your thighs, his eyes drinking you in. “Fuck, look at you.”
“Y-you said you will not lay with me tonight? Please don’t look at me there like that, I’m all
”
“Soaking wet.” He slides his long tongue against your soppy wet cunt now, licking a stripe up your slit as he moans. “Fuck you taste good.”
“What are you doing! I
 ah
 mmm!” Sukuna has two hands shoving your thighs wide, as you go to pull his head off you, the sensations of his wicked tongue are so overwhelming, only for him to moan when your fingers entangle in his pastel locks, two eyes glaring up as his tongue flicks on your clit, making you gush. “My king
 I
”
“I want you to cum all over my face, be good for me bunny, would you? If you do a good enough job, I’ll reward you tomorrow.”
“A good job!? This is wicked
 it feels
 s’good- ah!” Your head is thrown back now, and you’re shoving his face against your cunt, you gasp then, realizing your folly. “I’m so sorry-”
“Shut your mouth, I only want to hear your cries.” His head dips back between your thighs, tongue lavishing your velvety walls, you’re gushing honeyed arousal all over his handsome face, yes he is handsome to you. You’re not afraid of him right now, especially as he’s touching you everywhere.
You’re crying out and shaking, thighs struggling to close, but he holds them firm, his other hands squishing your breasts again, tongues on his palms lapping at the sensitive peaks of your nipples. His tongue is fucking into you, one of his rough fingers rolling your clit now, making you go fuzzy, your walls are pulsing around his wet muscle, clit twitching under his fingertip.
You feel tension pooling in your tummy, feel yourself getting hotter, on edge, like something is ready to explode, overwhelming you, you’re sobbing almost, tears flowing but they’re from the insane pleasure. How his big hands grip you so tight you’ll bruise, how his tongue’s devouring you, you can hear yourself, how wet you are, mixing with your hoarse moans.
You never knew your duty would feel like this, you never knew you could crave a demon king’s touch, and you certainly never knew his tongue could bring you to the brink of ecstasy, or that he would want to give you pleasure. His eyes glint up at you, as he flicks his tongue faster, his hands pinching your nipples, the pleasure making your eyes roll back in your skull.
Your toes curl, draped over his broad shoulders, as he works you more and more, everything is heightened, you can barely see, hearing the squelching wetness, hearing him drinking you. “Ngh- my King-”
“Cum, let me feel you. Drink you.” He whispers, and you have no clue what he means, he sees it clearly. “Release, now. An order.” There’s the military leader, the demanding king, but it just makes you wetter for him, makes your hips arch up for more of his caresses.
You nod weakly and he groans, his tongue lapping you up, his hands massaging your breasts, making your back arch, so filled with pleasure, and for the first time in your life you feel desired, you feel alive. Your first orgasm rocks through your body, your cunt clenching around his tongue, your body shaking, your heart racing, your eyes blurry with the intensity. 
“Oh my god
 oh my!” You’re soaking his face, taut nipples lavished by his tongues, and he’s smiling against your cunt, you feel his lips curve, tongue sliding out to flick up to your sensitive clit, watching you shake violently, walls fluttering around nothing as you breathe in heavy pants. “I
 we
 you
”
Sukuna pulls back then, smiling smugly up at you, licking his lips clean, your juices glistening on his tongue, even the strong jut of his chin is coated in you. “Good girl, now how is your duty going?”
“I
 I cannot think.” You whisper, he leans up over you, his heavy, tattooed chest weighing on your soft breasts. Your hand touches his chest tentatively, feeling the burning hot skin, the strong muscles, his steady heart beat.
“You taste so sweet, little prey.” He kisses you then, not a kiss like the wedding, no it was brutal, taking you over, and you embarrassingly taste yourself, surprised at how the flavor is. His tongue darts in your mouth, his four hands gripping your waist and hips as he presses you into the bed, you gasp as you pull back. “Ah, those eyes, already drunk off me.”
You look at his lips, tracing them with your finger tips, his quiet moan does not escape you. “Do I do it back? The
”
He’s chuckling at you, making you angry again, a sarcastic look on his face, a brow raised. “What a slutty virgin, you wish to suck my cocks?”
You blink. “Cocks!? Two!?”
He’s laughing now, kissing down your jaw, moaning against your ear as you tremble under him. “You’re so tiny, it would be so easy to break you. So fun to break your pretty little head.”
That only serves to make you wetter, and he notices, moaning as you feel hardness between your thighs, under his robes. You tentatively raise your hips, earning his hiss, him pinning your hips down, thumbs pressing into your pelvis. He looks down at you with four dilated eyes, tongue licking his lower lip, one of his other hands brushing back your hair.
“Mmm, you will go to sleep, and tomorrow, I shall show you how much more there is to your duty than just bearing my children.” He says, you nod carefully as he stands up, leaving you on the bed, breathless, overwhelmed.
“And will you
 lay with those concubines?”
He raises a brow, eyes trailing down your body. “Will that anger you, little bunny? Should I be afraid of your little paws?”
“It would upset me.” You say, pouting now, and he glares, clearly irritated. He then rolls his eyes with a sigh.
“Tch, already annoying me. Fine then.”
“Really?” You sit up, hopeful, suddenly craving more of him, your hands slipping up his strong biceps, you watch his eyes flutter shut for a moment.
“Yes, irritating creature. Now go to sleep.”
“Will you sleep with me?”
“Sleep in bed with you? No, I need to care for my precarious situation, caused by a bratty new bride.” You giggle and he glares, sobering you up. “You’re giggling at me, the king?”
“N-no. Sorry, my King. I shall see you in the morning.” You say softly now, he scoffs once more, eyeing your body lustfully as you slip back on your robe.
“Tsk.” Is all you get, as he leaves you alone in your chambers. You hesitantly touch yourself, seeing the sticky, glittering wetness still left, from your arousal and his tongue.
Lay there and endure? More like lay there and beg for more and more, blinding fucking pleasure from his tongues. Perhaps everything you think is completely wrong? What more is there to your duty, if you can call it that? You simply must know
 and you’re very curious about his
 cocks, fuck just the thought makes your pussy clench.
You’re snuggling up to a satin pillow in your new bed, lewd insane images flitting your mind, and for some reason you’re able to shut your eyes, and fall fast asleep, still feeling his touch on you.
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If you wanna be tagged in the next three parts lmk! It'll be much more freaky next chaps, warnings will be added lol, gonna just be a story abt a girl and her demon king lol, nothing too angsty
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