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soamericn · 6 months

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𝜗𝜚 𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ he said, "baby, " that's what he called me, "i love you" every single word you say makes me feel some type of way, it's the thought of you that slightly scares me but it takes my breath away, forget what I was gonna say

𝜗𝜚… summary , ( f!y/n x oscar piastri ) oscar’s plans for a date for him and his girlfriend after feeling bad for being busy all week, but ignoring how tired he’d been turns out to not be the best idea.

𝜗𝜚… faceclaim , up to your imagination <3

𝜗𝜚… triggers , swearing , anxiety

𝜗𝜚… authors note , I was really proud of this!!! hope you like it it had a plot and I sorta lost it while writing it but thats okay, my next fic is gonna be an smau I have an idea planned out

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ masterlist

It’d been a busy week for Oscar, almost the start of the season and he’d missed the feeling of winter break already. He loved his career, most didn’t get to say that but there was a sort of weight off his shoulders when the last race ended, a certain peace in the air that put him at ease.

Currently, the ease had subsided and the stress was catching once again in his throat, and his schedule had started to fill up. He knew he had to make time this year not just for himself, he’d recently gotten a girlfriend right before the end of the race last season.

She’s everything he’s ever wanted, he’s never met someone who’s understood him so much until he met her. Oscar felt a nervousness in his heart, what if he couldn’t make time for her? What if she’d validly lose interest with him not around?

He’d been reassured plenty of times by her, even without sharing his thoughts. She just knew. God, Oscar couldn’t even put into words how perfect she’d been for him.

Towards the end of his week, they’d planned to go on a date. Oscar had felt guilty after not properly going out in a while, not that she minded they were both homebodies anyway.

Setting the reservation for the restaurant days in advance that he’d known she liked was easy, picking out the right outfit a few hours before he had to pick her up was not.

This all felt silly to him. Never in his life had he’d cared so much about what he wore. Christ, he wore the same Mclaren polo in the paddock practically every race weekend.

Scouring his limited closet for the right shirt and pants proved harder than he thought. He’d tried a nice t-shirt and jeans, too casual. Maybe not a tux either, too fancy. He’d finally settled on a white button up with the top three buttons unbuttoned, and a pair of khaki shorts. And feeling somewhat satisfied with his choice he put on some cologne, and ran a hand through his hair.

This might as well have been a first date the way the Aussie was stressing. Tapping a finger on the steering wheel as he drove, running many hands through his hair. Both tell-tales of his nervousness.

Tall glass doors filled his vision as he reached her apartment building. Tapping twelve on the elevator and tapping his foot as he waited. The silence of the confined space was so loud, nerves rising in his chest. Oscar felt stupid. He had no need to be this nervous. No need at all. She was just so her, so perfect and the exact image of someone he’d imagined his life with. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve her.

Once the elevator doors had opened with a small beep, he’d walked out and the hallway seemed hauntingly long with her door at the end of it. This was all muscle memory to him, he could’ve come here with his eyes closed if he wanted, though he might’ve gotten some weird looks and a potential car accident.

He’d rung her doorbell, folding his hands neatly and awkwardly behind his back as she waited. “Coming!” A soft voice shouted on the other side of the door. Oscar smiled to himself.

For the first time since he started getting ready he’d checked his phone, and sighed. He had been almost an hour early then when he said he’d be picking her up. Now suddenly the feeling of him intruding on her crowded his thoughts.

They faded away the minute she opened the door and her eyes lit up. Y/n’s hair had been curled but was obviously not styled yet, she wore pajama shorts and a t-shirt and looked halfway done with her make-up.

“I’m early, I think,” His nose scrunched as he spoke.

She shook her head, lips in a small friendly pout. And gestured for him to walk inside. Once he’d taken a step closer into the apartment she’d pulled him into a hug, standing on her tippy-toes and her arms around his neck. “I missed you.” The girl whispered into his ear sending shivers down his spine.

Oscar’s arms fit snugly around her waist pulling her close, his face buried in her neck smelling the floral scent of her body wash.

He hadn’t realized how tired this week had truly made him till he’d fallen into her touch. The coziness of her presence made him notice how much he actually needed this, how much he’d been needing her.

Pulling away from his tight grasp she looked up at him in a way that made him wanna melt into her all over again. Y/n’s hand slowly moved up from his neck tracing the light stubble along his chin before holding his face in her hand, he swore she would be the death of him.

“You look handsome.” She commented with a hint of surprise in her voice and a furrow of her eye brow as she scanned his outfit.

A small pink rose to his cheeks but a sarcastic comment rose in his throat, “do I usually not?”

Her head shook, “No you do, even in the same Mclaren polo and unbrushed hair.”

Oscar’s head looked down at the floor slightly embarrassed with a huge grin spread across his face. Using her hand once again she tilted his head to look at her, their eyes meeting. “I gotta finish getting ready but the tv’s on in the living room.” She said, placing a quick peck on his lips before walking off to the bathroom, having no idea the effect she had on him.

He paused standing there in the hallway, he wasn’t sure what it was about her that had such an impact on him. It might’ve been her bubbliness, how she radiated positivity, or just the fact she knew him, like truly knew him.

Every time she’d walked away from him, Oscar missed her presence like he hadn’t seen her in years. He never imagined himself being clingy but it was like with her he couldn’t stay away. Y/n had been his second home.

The brunette boy took a seat on the couch sinking into it, the t.v. played some random sitcom the volume low. The exhaustion he’d been pushing back for the whole week had broken through a dam and flooded back into him the moment he took a seat. It didn’t help that her home was the exact definition of cozy. A candle burned filling the apartment with the smell of fall, she’d refused to use the overhead lighting opting for smaller lamps and other lights.

Oscar could’ve slept three days here if he was allowed, preferably with her near him. Subconsciously he rested his head on a nearby pillow at the end of the couch lifting his legs up (them partially going off the couch). And his eyes seemed to drift closed.

The scent of cinnamon filled his nose as his eyes fluttered open. He made a confused groaning noise stretching his back and arms out because despite the couch being fairly comfortable it wasn’t exactly made for his height. He sat up taking off a blanket that was placed across him that he didn’t remember putting on.

It’d taken him a moment but not long to remember where he was but more importantly what plans they had. Panic seeped through him and he jumped up looking to the bathroom, the door was now opened and the light had been turned off. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath, guilt filling his pores.

Oscar ended up in the kitchen where Y/n sat on the counter, legs criss-crossed watching something on her laptop. She’d put her hair up and had been in her pajamas like she was before her make-up removed as well. Looking at the time on the stove, Oscar cursed himself he’d slept right through their reservation.

God, he wished hadn’t ignored how drained he was like he did. Now she’d noticed him and paused what she was watching looking at him with a soft smile. The smile hadn’t warmed his heart like previously, he couldn’t put into words how horrible he’d felt.

Taking steps closer to her, ending up standing in front of where she was sitting, her legs uncrossing and he stood in between them. “I’m so so sorry, I feel horrible right now.” He admitted, not wanting to meet her eyes.

“It’s okay, we all need breaks sometimes, you’ve been busy.” He didn’t deserve her. Oddly he felt like her yelling at him would’ve been better than this. She’d been such an angel and he broke the one promise he’d made all week.

Oscar shook his head, “Sweetheart, It’s not okay I told you we’d do something special and I fucked it.” He looked at the granite next to her leg not wanting to meet her eyes still.

A soft light hand placed itself on his chin and pushed him to face her. Her eyes were comforting like a warm blanket of kindness. “You did, but it's okay.”

He had so many apologies in his throat so many words he could say but only the simplest ones came out. “I’m so sorry again-” He was suddenly distracted by the sudden scent of cinnamon once again. “What are you making?”

“Well right now dessert but I need help with dinner.” She admitted and he wrapped his arms around her torso and her around his neck once again except he was the one looking up at her.

Oscar furrowed an eyebrow. “Is that not the wrong order?”

“Oh shut it, you’re in no place to make jabs right now.” She joked with a fake roll of her eyes.

“How about I make dinner for you?” He offered lightly running his hands up and down her back.

Her facial expression showed her contemplating it. “Do I trust your cooking?”

Oscar was now the one to roll his eyes. “Do I trust yours?” He commented.

Y/n lightly hit his shoulder gasping. “You’re very rude, Oscar, don’t you know that?”

“Oh am I?” His hands moved from her back to her waist once more.

“Mhm.”

He carried her off the counter as she wrapped her legs around his torso and she started laughing, a sound Oscar wished he could hear on repeat forever. His hand resting on her butt holding her up. He placed a light kiss on her lips, more intimate than the quick peck from earlier. He pulled away but their faces were still inches apart.

“So can I make you dinner?” He asked again in a whisper.

Her eyes tilted up dramatically thinking about it, “Only because I don't feel like it.”

She placed another quick peck on his lips and Oscar pulled her back in for a deeper one, and he swore no matter how long they knew each other he’d never get over this feeling.

𝜗𝜚… tags , @whitcferrari @cedarbcws @c-losur3

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wintersera · 9 months

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countdown || winter x g!p reader

notes: I KNOW MY ASS SHOULDVE PLANNED AHEAD, but anyways it’s out! i didn’t expect to write this much tbh but we move. reader is also an idol btw and an 02 liner

cw: g!p reader, switch!minjeong, switch!reader, exhibitionism, little bit of begging

wc: 3.9k

[10:00pm]

“have a very happy new years. everyone stay healthy and eat well. oh! and don’t forget to greet your friends and family a happy new years as well!”

that was it, the end of the new years event. all the cameras were turned off as you and your label mates wished the fans a happy new years. you, in the middle of the youngest and oldest of le sserafim, waved at the fans and blew them all a kiss before you were led by the hand of your leader, kim chaewon, to the bottom of the stage. but you couldn’t leave your fans without saying another goodbye. you let go of your leaders hand and ran back on to the stage throwing a heart sign to one of your favourite fansites before chaewon shouted at you to come back “okaayy okay, wait a second unnnie” laughing at your leader increasingly losing her patience.

“lee y/n, hurry up we need to go” her brows furrowed a little while eunchae pointed out the crease in chaewon’s brows. she cracked up way too much “hong eunchae, it really isn’t that funny” she didn’t say much after that, she just held onto yunjin’s shoulder in attempts to surpress the laughter “sorry unnie, you just looked a little silly”

[10:20pm]

once you had gotten changed out of your stage outfits and into your casual clothes, that being an oversized black hoodie and your pants that you wore almost everytime you went outside, the staff members called you towards them, making you sit down on their chair so they could get you out of the makeup. removing your stage makeup was a hassle, getting those coloured contacts weren’t for the weak, although you should be used to it by now. it took a long time to get everything off, including the extra accessories that were wrapped around you like crazy. but anyways, you finished up washing your face before sitting down to wait for the other members. since you were the first one to be done, and you tend to get bored easily, you wander around the halls looking for something to do, whether it be finding an idol friend of yours to record a silly video, or just to chat to one of the staff members, you needed to do something to cure your boredom.

by chance you saw kim minjeong, your girlfriend, aimlessly walking around the place much like you were doing. now was the perfect time to ask her to come see you after she had gotten out of her performance outfit.

you hadn’t seen minjeong in what felt like years, it was a few months and you saw eachother when she flew back to korea calm down. being so busy with her world tour and her two comebacks this year, you only managed to go on a few dates this year, and sometimes when she did have breaks, you were busy because of your tight schedule as well. since her groups comeback, ‘drama’, you didn't see her for a good two months. did it hurt? absolutely, you missed seeing her, missed her touch, her smile, her everything.

luckily she was here, approaching you actually… wait she walking here? snapping out of your little daydream, you realise that minjeong was right infront of you.

“what’s up with you? you look like a lost puppy”

“oh wait, hi jeongie” smiling wide at her, yeah you looked like a puppy in her eyes to be honest “i was about to ask you something you came at the right time because i was about to ask you a question” you say while playing with the hem of your hoodie “so… you know how we haven’t seen eachother in months right? i was just thinking about spending some time with you somewhere after you get changed”

“where exactly?” she asks with curiosity. not so much questioning you in a bad way, just curious of what you had planned. she tilts her head to the side, wanting to charm her way into you giving her an answer, it didn’t work, although she was very cute.

“you’re not tricking me with your little head tilt” chuckling as your face turns light pink “it’s a surprise you dummy. just text me when you’re done and i’ll come to your dressing room” she nodded her head and gave you a peck on the cheek before she walked away satisfied by seeing how bright your face got. you weren’t exactly discreet with your relationship anyways, people were shipping you before the two of you were dating, for some reason, which made it easier for you to carry out skinship whenever you’d meet up in public. meaning that small kisses on the cheek, hand holding and hugs meant that the fans thought you were queer baiting aggressively, oh they were so wrong.

“i’ll see you later loser”

[10:40pm]

a good twenty minutes go by and you were waiting outside of aespa’s changing room, phone in hand just in case minjeong called or texted. the stylists really took their sweet time trying to get minjeong out of the stage outfit she was wearing, i mean to be honest, it did look like her dress took time to put on, especially with those strings and stuff at the back, and the various other little things that were included in the fit. a couple more minutes and she comes outside, surprised that you were to her side when she opened the door “oh, hi. thought you we’re gonna wait outside the building”

“well, i thought it would be better to wait for you here. and also because it’s warm in here” you reply back to her.

minjeong wore this casual white skirt despite the weather being cold, it was a little too short as well, but it’s not like she cared about it anyways, she had a hoodie to wear as well so i guess she was fine, she also had these white leg warmers to keep her from shaking, although you didn’t understand how leg warmers could keep her toasty. she looked pretty, really really pretty that it made you think of a ton of inappropriate things, that could wait for later though “i’m gonna go ask your manager a question, i already got the green light from mine, and i’m hoping, HOPING, your manager agrees” you dramatically throw your hands in the air, looking up to the sky. minjeong just looks at you like you’re stupid, although she loves how playful and reactive you can get when it comes to her. she nods accordingly, allowing you to go into the changing rooms “stay here pleeaaseee”

“what for?” she throws another questioning look at you.

“a surprise, you’ll see” smiling at her cheekily. you knock at aespa’s door, they open and greet you with a ‘heyyy’ you close the door checking if minjeong was listening “minjeong step away from the door”

“aw mannnnn”

you spend a couple of minutes explaining the plan to minjeong’s manager, she agreed that it would be a good idea, and since aespa didn’t have anything scheduled for the next week, you could take minjeong out on a silly little birthday thing with the help of your manager. you came out successful, a smile on your face as you look at minjeong “come on, follow me babe” minjeong follows you eagerly, hand in hand as her manager bids you two a fun night, maybe she got the implications of to why you booked a night at a fancy hotel, well you hope she didn’t, that would be kinda…. strange, but besides the point, you walked to your waiting room for your manager.

“are you for real gonna take the managers car?”

“you know i can’t drive YET, and plus, if i get an uber that’s gonna cost me so much money, y’know they’re overpriced” your manager was sat there waiting for you and minjeong, crossed legged and everything “are you ready to go yet?” your manager asks “oh yeah, we’re ready” pushing herself off of the chair, your manager escorts the both of you two the company car.

[11:00pm]

after ten minutes of driving towards the hotel, it should’ve taken five but your manager got lost trying to navigate the car down a street. you don’t know how she ended up in that damn street, but google maps said otherwise, you finally end up at the reception desk waving goodbye to your manager that dropped you off “a hotel? and a really… pricey one?” again, questioning you.

“only the best for my favourite unnie~” you jokingly teased her, although you were younger by a year, she’d told you not to call her unnie after you had gotten closer, excluding the times you met on camera and during the times you met while you were still on the job and in public, of course.

“yes ma’am!” you chuckle.

“that’s not any better” hitting you lightly on the shoulder.

after speaking with the receptionist about your room, she gave you the keycard and gracefully pointed towards the elevators where the guy who carries peoples luggage smiled sweetly at you, even though you didn’t have big ass bags or anything, he offered to carry your handbags. you respectfully declined as you didn’t have much to carry anyways, but he kept insisting. besides the porter being too much of a nice guy, you ended up on the highest floor of the hotel, the fifth floor to be exact. not too high and not too low, just enough to see the sky clearly and just enough for people not being able to recognise you both when you step out into the balcony.

finally stepping into the room, minjeong was greeted with a small cake on top of the room's table that you bought from one of her favourite bakeries. written on it was ‘happy 23rd birthday minjeong’ accompanied by a small little smiley face next to the text that you personally drew on yourself. she noticed a few balloons in the corners and a few more decorations here and there.

“you did this? for me?” fighting back the urge to have this big loser grin on her face.

“like it?” worried that she wasn’t gonna enjoy something so sudden for her birthday. your hands reach the hem of your hoodie again, bunching the fabric up

“i-i do like it, i love it actually. why the expensive hotel though?

“i thought it would be nice to celebrate elsewhere and um…” your face heated up at the thought of explaining why you exactly booked a hotel, specifically at night, and on her birthday “well… i haven’t seen you in so long, i missed you a lot and so, y’know, hotel room.. you and me… alone. i mean we don’t need to do anything, i-i just wanted to spend some time wi-“ minjeong cut you off, pressing her hand against your lips.

she giggles “thank you y/n, i’ve missed you a lot too. the whole tour and the comeback… it’s been like a few months since we haven’t seen each other, i’ll make it up to you” she leans in closer and closer. you weren’t even inside the room properly yet, both you and minjeong were still standing at the entrance. you wasted no time and dragged minjeong towards the bed, you sitting down on the edge while minjeong straddles your lap. her lips grazed against yours gently. the kiss was slow, steady and loving. minjeong’s small giggles as she presses her lips continuously on yours made your heart skip a few beats, god she was so cute. tiny little whimpers fell from her mouth as you relax into her touches. the feeling of your own body made minjeong moan, she loved feeling your curves, quite frankly she loved touching everywhere. from your neck, down to your collarbone, your arms, waist, hips, thighs, your entire body really.

the kiss gradually turned passionate, with minjeong grinding on your lower half while she deepens the kiss. her eyes opened, half lidded as she took your face in her hands and stared at your dazed expression. her lips parted again, smashing her lips onto yours as she kept rocking against your bulge “mmmngh… minjeong” you whined into her mouth, your bulge growing extremely hard and becoming undoubtedly uncomfortable against the fabric of your pants.

without even saying a word, minjeong gets off your lap, complaining to her that you miss her touch already, she laughs a little, the dissatisfied look on your face made her crack up knowing that she would clearly tend to your needs regardless. she knelt down at your legs, parting them open and slotting herself in between your thighs, face way too close to your crotch “jeongie?” you weakly call out for her.

“hm? what is it” jerking her head up while her hand reaches around to tease your cock.

“please” you whisper loud enough for her to hear you, but also quiet enough so that you wouldn’t get so embarrassed “i’m… feeling shy” that came as a surprise to minjeong, usually because you were the one making her feel embarrassed.

“hahah, cute. y/n we’ve done this so many times before, you’re so full of surprises today, aren't you” she says as she unzips your pants slowly. the adrenaline made your head feel fuzzy, after all it’s been months since you were intimate with her. your breath became shaky as she finally took your pants off, your hand covering your face as she fiddled with the elastic band of your briefs “relax y/n, i’ll make you feel good” finally pulling them down. your hard cock sprung up making minjeong exhale. she licked her lips hungrily, paying attention to how you were twitching without her even touching you.

“hurrryyy, minjeong i need you” your desperation was as clear as daylight. the way minjeong stared at you like a dumb puppy made you want to take her head and shove your cock so deep into her throat, but it was her birthday so you let her have control… for now. she acted dumb, asking how you wanted her, as if it wasn’t obvious enough. you pleaded, begged for her to use her mouth which you missed so much “jeongie, mouth… please” you whined. it didn’t help as she was having too much fun with teasing you, a smug smirk on her face, and if you weren’t on cloud nine already, you would’ve noticed a mischievous glint in her eye.

“hmmm, beg for it again. you sound so cute when you say please” she noted your uncharacteristic shyness and took advantage on it, laughing while she looks you straight in the eye. again, you covered your face, turning your head to look at the wall instead of her.

“don’t make me beg, anything but that. i’m embarrassed, please don’t make me beg” gripping onto the bed sheets when she moved her hand around your shaft “s-stop, i don’t wanna beg” you were the one to always tease her, karma, you guess. all that teasing you did finally came back to you, and now you were lost.

“but you want it don’t you?” yes, you did want it.

“p…please, want your mouth around my-” you caught yourself stuttering and slurring your words. the more you spoke, the faster minjeong stroked your cock “mmh, want it around m-my cock please” no words were exchanged afterwards. minjeong went straight to your cock, taking it all with ease. her tiny mouth was always so skilled when it came to pleasuring you. every single time that she sucked your dick, you were always so surprised that she could take your girthy length. seeing her mouth so full of you made you practically rock solid, even though you were pretty much as hard as you could get. she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pushed herself further, taking your dick all the way back to her throat, tip hitting it whenever she bobbed her head up and down. this caused you to grab her head with both of your hands, you let your head fall back all while she was suddenly very focused with swirling her tongue around your tip.

fuck, you wanted to fuck her mouth, hold her mid length hair into a ponytail and push your cock all the way in, chasing your own high and disregarding your girlfriends comfort, but you remembered that you wanted to let her do whatever. her endless switch up between fast to slow, to then slow to fast, and then fast to slow, made your head spin.

savouring the taste of your dick in her mouth, minjeong hummed in satisfaction, the low hum causing you to moan back in response. minjeong felt your thighs tensing, your hands tugging her head urging her to come closer, and your cock twitching inside of her mouth. you were oh so sensitive to the point where you couldn’t take the abrupt pace minjeong was going at “close- so close” you moaned out, careful that your voice wasn’t too loud just in case the people next to you could hear.

your breathing became irregular, sharp inhales and exhales as your legs begin to tremble “m..minjeong, gonna cum- i’m gonna cum” you sharply inhaled again before you called out minjeong’s name once more, cumming all in her mouth and holding her head still so that she could swallow it all.

[11:50pm]

minjeong gave you a few minutes to come down from your high. your legs were still shaky, but you managed to put your clothes back on before suggesting that you should go to the balcony to watch the fireworks. you left minjeong to it, taking pics of the cake while you wash up in the bathroom, which didn’t really take long. with new years in mind, you bought these cheap ass sparklers that you could possibly light up on the balcony. you weren’t too sure if you were allowed to use them, but it’s not like you were going to light it up inside of the actual hotel room. minjeong guided you excitedly to the balcony, hands intertwined and laughing like you were kids again.

“waaahh, the view from here is insane. i’m glad i booked this room in advance” taking in the fresh winters air “and the balcony is big enough for us to light this” you took out the sparklers from your bag with a childish grin on your face.

“awww cute, you bought sparklers as well” her eyes lighting up as she looks at the package “can we light them up now?”

“YES, yes we can- sorry i got excited” opening the sliding door to find the lighter you also packed, you came towards minjeong and asked her to hold the end of the sparkler, you did the same and lighted hers up first. minjeong took out her phone and recorded you lighting it up, her excited squeals being caught on video while you were in the back laughing as well. it was a sweet moment for the both of you, cherishing the last minutes of 2023 with each other.

[11:55pm]

the last spark, and then it went out. you both looked at eachother and went towards the railings, your shoulders touching each other as you both gaze at the skyline.

“i’m so glad i met you y/n, i can’t wait to spend another year with you. this time i hope we get a vacation or something, a few weeks off with you would be good enough for me”

“me too, i hope our schedules this year aren’t too heavy. i know hybe is like chill with us, but i don’t know about sm… oh well, i just hope we get to see each other more often”

[12:00am, the first of january 2024]

all of a sudden the bells chime, cheers from the people on the streets could be heard throughout the city, fireworks were being set off from every direction, painting the sky a beautiful colour. to see this with your lover was truly a blessing.

“minjeong…” you whisper again “happy birthday and a happy happy new years” you say sweetly before kissing her on the lips.

in all honesty, you still felt kind of horny. coming from behind minjeong to pull down her panties, the cold air hitting her inner thighs which made her jolt “w-wait, people can see us from up here” she said, swatting away your hands that were about to reach under her hoodie.

“no one’s gonna pay attention to us, everyone is focusing on celebrating new years. it’s only us” pressing your cock against her bare pussy. you unzip your pants again, letting it fall to the ground “plus it’s dark and we’re very high up, so no ones gonna notice our face either” you move aside her hair, pressing a kiss on her nape before you let your hands roam underneath her hoodie, and then under her bra.

“y… your hands are cold” her hands grabbing on tightly to the bars, attempting to stifle her moaning as you pinch and pull at her hardened nipples. ever so gently pushing your cock inside minjeongs already soaked pussy, you tease her asking if she got wet by sucking your cock. she reluctantly agrees by nodding her head

“go on, say that you got wet” that was karma for asking you to beg.

“i-i can’t, they’re gonna hear us” whispering under her breath while also attempting to keep her moans low. you reassure her that no one’s going to hear the two of you, it was just you and her alone in the moment and no one else “…fuck, fine… sucking your dick made me wet, you happy?” you moaned in response to that, smiling and saying “yes” while you slowly pumped in and out of her pussy.

you were clearly pussy drunk, your hips moved on their own, grinding your cock hard into her. minjeong felt warm and her pussy was tight, almost making you drool as you kept pushing in further and further. the sensation of minjeong clamping down on you made you almost moan too loud, catching yourself off guard you covered your hands just in case anyone heard you, ironic right.

i guess you could say the cold made minjeong even more needy, she wanted to keep you as close as possible, asking you to wrap your arms around her waist as you kept pounding into her tight pussy “y/n, y/n- keep going, feels amazing~” you assumed that you hit the spot that she loved oh so much, her moans becoming higher as you rammed harder.

“like this jeongie? mmgh.. you want me to fuck you like this, huh?” taking one hand out of her shirt to place it on top of one of her hands that were still gripping onto the steel metal bars.

“y/n- i’m close, so close… fuck me faster.. go faster” obeying her, you move as fast as you thought was needed, slightly bending her over. at this point you were getting too dizzy, knowing that you were also close to orgasming, you hold her waist, practically slamming her into your cock “oh god… about to— hnngh, cum” minjeong’s pussy throbbed and clenched around you so tightly that it made your eyes roll back, her legs spasming as she came around your cock, breathless as she called your name out weakly. you followed, grabbing her waist and pulling her in, not letting go so you can spill every last drop of semen inside of her.

“god… i’m… exhausted” you say between breaths. with new years over, and another plan to take minjeong out on a date when you wake up, you carry her back inside kissing her forehead “happy birthday again jeongie” smiling sweetly at her

“mmmm, thank you y/n”

a/n: they at the cake as well don’t worryyy

#wintersera #g!p reader #aespa smut #aespa winter smut #aespa x reader smut #aespa x fem reader smut #kim minjeong smut #aespa winter x reader #kim minjeong x reader #kpop girl group smut #kpop smut #girl group smut

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bchan95 · 9 months

Text

Picture Perfect (Bang Chan x Y/N)

Chan feels uncertain about his style choices, and you're determined to make him feel good about them.

Throwing on the oversized jacket, Chan tilted his head. Studying his appearance in the mirror, he sighs.

“This jacket feels… like a lot,” He starts, spinning back toward you. “What do you think?”

You smirk. The jacket was very Chan. Simple. Black. Sturdy. He loved being decked out in black clothing. You cross your leg, leaning a little to the left to drink him in fully. The simple rolled jeans, the big bulky brown shoes and a plain white t-shirt. Although the outfit may look simple, you couldn’t help but admire his effort.

He shook his head at you “Your silence is killing me…”

You bit down on your bottom lip, lifting yourself off the bed and over in his direction. Your arms wrap completely around him as you approach, leaning your head back to look at him again. His dimple is popped as he smiles down at you, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist too.

“I think...” You start, giggling a bit under your breath under his gaze. “I think you look so cool, Bang Chan.”

You watch as his cheeks begin to flush pink, rolling his eyes at you as he taps your backside lightly. You reach up on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek, bringing the color on his cheeks to a bolder red.

“Baby… don’t tease me.”

You shook your head, pressing your lips to his cheek once more before looking him in the eyes again. You tightened your grip around him with a wide smile splashed across your face.

“I’m not teasing honey,” you started, admiring the crinkle of his nose. “You know I love your style. Simple, but effortlessly sexy.”

You would have thought Chan’s head was going to explode the way he stared at you wide-eyed. You just giggled again, pressing a kiss to his lips this time and sticking your hands in his back pockets. He pressed two, three, four more to yours.

Finally separating, he releases your waist and grabs your hand. Guiding you towards the door, you can’t help but gaze at him as you wander through the living room and out the front door. He had put on that musky cologne that you loved and let his hair drape naturally and wavy on his head.

You had actually begged him not to take you out to a fancy restaurant for once. You longed for a casual, lowkey date night like when you first started dating. Nervously trying to come up with questions for each other to answer as you walked up and down the streets of Seoul. Eating street cart food and looking over at the water before he’d throw his jacket over your shoulders and walk you home.

Now that Chan’s group has made it big, he loves to spoil you. Not that you can complain. You have every perfume, tiny black dress and big romance book you could ever ask for. Fancy five-star dinners just to celebrate the tiniest accomplishments you had at work.

But what you were really craving was just time with him. He had been so busy. First the Maniac album and tour, and then several follow-up projects within the last year… he was nonstop. He’d of course always make time for date night, but it never felt right that you didn’t get the time to just be with him. To be relaxed. Not trying to perform for anyone in particular. Even if it’s just his leveled-up innate kindness to the waiter. You knew that Chan just did this to show you how much he loved and valued you, and you never wanted to feel ungrateful.

That’s why a few nights ago when you brought up the idea of a chilled winter walk and with a quick bite to eat, he looked at you gobsmacked. He fully sat down on the couch next to you, your hands in his, rubbing soft circles on the tops.

“Baby… are you unhappy with our dates lately?”

His eyes were wide and pleading. You shook your head furiously and squeezed his hands.

“Oh god no Channie nothing like that… I just,” you stop, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment. “I just want a night where we can just let go together. No dressing up, no fancy dinners… just us.”

He nods, staying quiet for a moment. His hands dart to your intertwined hands as they rock back and forth.

“Chan…” He looks back up at you with wide glossy eyes. You shake your head and lean up to touch his cheek. “Oh baby, I love everything that you do for me… but I just want a simple night out this time. I promise you’ve done nothing wrong.”

He leaned into your touch, pressing his lips to the side of your hand before looking back at you and nodding, a soft smile across his lips.

So, now you were hand and hand with him, walking leisurely through the darkened streets, filled with bright lights. You smiled to yourself as you watched Chan take everything in. It had been a while since he had been this silent. You slightly shake his hand that’s in yours to get his attention. He looks over at you and his lips curl up slightly.

“Channie baby, are you okay?”

He nods “Yeah, I just….” He sighs, rolling his neck back and forth before stopping the two of you and pulling off to the side of the street.

“Chan?” You were getting anxious now. Maybe he hated this idea and didn’t want to do this lowkey date night. Maybe you had crossed a line.

“Chan,” you started again, your eyes darting across his face. “If you don’t want to do this, it was a silly date idea anyway and-“

Chan zeros back in on you, viciously shaking his head back and forth. He pulled you in closer, but his eyes stayed glued to the ground.

“Do you think…” he sighs before continuing. “Do you think this jacket looks like I’m trying too hard?”

You furrowed your eyebrows together “What do you mean?”

Chan sighs again, eyes finally meeting yours with a pleading stare. “I don’t know, this whole brand name stuff is kind of new to me… I just don’t know if it suits me.”

A small smile pulls across your face as you look at your bashful boyfriend. He looked good effortlessly, and it blew your mind that he thought anything otherwise. You knew his friends would make silly jokes about how “aesthetic” his Instagram has become, and Stays everywhere begging for designer brands to swoop him up in a deal. They all meant well, but you were sure that Chan felt the pressure to look cool.

“Chan… I think you look so cool, baby…”

He sighs “You’re not just saying that?”

You cocked an eyebrow, “Have I ever lied to you?”

He shook his head quickly, leading your smile to widen even more. Your eyes take in your surroundings. In the distance, you see a cool, open building. You weren’t sure if it was actually open, but you had an idea. You grabbed Chan’s hand and started running down the street. He protested, asking a lot of questions but letting you pull him along behind you.

Once you stepped up to the building, you pulled at the door. It opened with ease, and you quickly pulled Chan inside. Once you were inside the building, you smiled looking up at a plain white staircase ahead of you. You tugged on Chan’s hand, pulling him in front of you.

“Go stand up there.”

He looked at you in confusion, staying where he was. “Why?”

You let go of his hand, reaching up and shoving his shoulder forward.

“Just go! Trust me!”

Chan strolled up the stairs, looking down at you in confusion. You grabbed your phone, pointing it in his direction. Once you have your placement you smile up at him. Chan is still thoroughly confused, standing at the side of the staircase.

“Baby,” you call up to him, pointing him toward the middle. “Go to the middle of the staircase.”

He still looked confused, but walked sideways and inched toward your placement. He looked at you expectedly, waiting for his next direction.

“Okay, so I want you to put your hands in your jacket pockets. He followed your instructions and you giggled to yourself before moving forward. “Now I want you to turn your face to the right and smile, and act like you’re walking down.”

“Baby what are you…”

“Just do it, Chan.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. Your cheeks flush pink once you realize how sharp your tone has been.

“Please, baby?”

It’s his turn to chuckle at you. He follows your instructions and you snap a few photos. You look back up at him with a smile before looking down at your phone and scrolling through the pictures.

“Perfect!”

Before he can ask any more questions, you guide him upstairs and set him down in a chair. He looks at you bewildered, watching you post his hands, resting his elbows on the sides of the chair and spreading his legs ever so slightly before moving back to the side.

“Okay baby look slightly to the right again, but this time let your face just sit naturally.”

“Y/N…”

You pout, lip jutting out as you look up at him. “Chan please, it will only take a second.”

He complies, letting you snap a few more photos before pulling him outside. His giggles ring through your ears as you pull him back onto the street. Before you can pull him down the road again, his firm arm pulls you back into him, a small smile pressed against his lips as he looks down at you.

“Sweetheart, what are you scheming…”

You bat your eyelashes at him, widening your gaze. “Nothing Channie, just helping you get Instagram photos. Is that okay?”

He smiles even wider “Baby why do I need Instagram photos right now? That can wait-“

You interrupt him, your hands grabbing at the sides of his jacket, bouncing on the balls of your toes.

“But Channie, this outfit is so perfect. Let me just take a couple more please please please?” You pout again, his hand coming up, finger tapping against your lip, silently instructing you to put it back in.

“Fine baby, but then we’re getting you something to eat,” He grabs your hands, feeling the chill of your palms. “and something warm to drink because it’s getting cold and you didn’t bring mittens.”

You nod, biting back a squeal. You push Chan a bit back from you in front of the Deli sign. Just as you raise your phone again, snow starts to softly fall from the sky. You smile as you see Chan try to capture some into the palm of his hand. Your heart melts, quickly switch over to the record button to take a quick clip of his antics.

He finally notices you filming and motions “no no no” trying to lower your camera. You frown, shaking your head.

“But Chan you are so cute. I have to keep that video.”

You show him the quick clip, loving the way he shies away from your eyes as his cheeks turn rosy. You quietly take a few steps back, snapping two photos of him smiling without knowing before he pleads for his release.

“You’re done now baby,” he says, taking the phone from your hand and placing it into his pocket.

You giggle to yourself as you grab his hand again, this time letting him lead you down the corridor to a nearby shop. You lift his hand up, pressing a kiss to it quickly. He turns back around, halting you both. He leans forward and captures your lips. As you pull away, he smiles brightly at you.

“Handsome,” you mutter softly, keeping your eyes on him. “You are so so handsome baby, don’t forget that.”

He presses his forehead into yours for a moment, leaning in for one more quick peck before guiding you down the freshly fallen snowy path.

#bang chan x y/n #bang chan x reader #bangchan x y/n #bang chan fluff #bang chan fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x y/n #stray kids fanfic #bang chan

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kookslastbutton · 3 months

Text

Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | Chapter Three

✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader

genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love

word count: 8.1k+

warnings: This chapter in particular is written from oc's perspective, oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking, mentions of unhealthy parental relationships (attempts for arranged marriage), Oc being a total boss at work bc she is amazing at her job, and ofc more cute & meaningful Yoon and OC interactions (I love them 🥹)

now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets

a/n: GUYS, I'm getting better at updating! It only took me a little over a month to get this chapter out vs two months last time. I'm going to keep trying to improve, but TYSM for your patience! I'm really proud of how this series is going so far, and this chapter omg...i just hope you enjoy hehehe. Anyway, this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!

Series Masterlist | next chapter >>

The past week and a half has been a whirlwind. Meetings, studio sessions, and preparations for “Suchwita” have consumed your days and nights. The tight deadlines and intense work pace have kept you on your toes, but there’s a growing excitement within you for the new venture. Today marks the first day of recording "Suchwita," and you find yourself buzzing with anticipation. Determined to ensure everything goes smoothly, you decide to arrive at the studio early to oversee the final preparations.

As you step into the makeshift studio space, you're greeted by a flurry of activity. Camera operators are setting up angles, lighting technicians are adjusting the brightness, and set designers are putting the final touches on the sleek, intimate set that will serve as the backdrop for the show.

The set has a warm, inviting aura with dark wood paneling, a cozy seating area, and a small bar stocked with various bottles of whiskey and soju.

You're impressed by how quickly everything has come together.

“Yoongi-ssi, good morning,” you call out as you approach Yoongi, who is already surveying the room. You notice him glance at you from the corner of his eye as you walk towards him. You have to admit, he looks great. The crew has styled him in denim blue jeans and a navy blue sweater, a casual yet polished outfit that complements the professional yet relaxed atmosphere of the set. It’s clear he arrived before you.

“Good morning __-ssi,” Yoongi replies, giving you a small smile. “Everything ready?”

“We’re almost there. Just a few final touches, and we should be good to go.”

“Great,” he nods, briefly scanning around the set. “The place looks better than I imagined.”

“I’m glad you think so,” you say with a satisfied expression. “We wanted it to reflect your personality and create an atmosphere where you and your guests can have open, honest conversations. How are you feeling this morning?”

“Pretty excited, actually,” he says, folding his arms in a composed manner. “A little nervous, but mostly excited. How are you and the rest of the team holding up with all the new developments?”

“We’re managing,” you say with a chuckle. “It’s been a lot of late nights and early mornings, but everyone’s excited about ‘Suchwita.’ It’s something different and refreshing. I think we’re all equally eager to see it succeed.”

Yoongi nods thoughtfully, taking a moment to soak in the details of the set. “It’s all coming together pretty fast. Do we know for sure who we’ll have on for the next few recordings?”

“We do,” you reply, “We’ve lined up a few other artists for the following episodes, including some from different genres. Your fellow members will also join as soon as their schedules permit. I think it’s going to be a good mix. Also, if there’s anyone in particular you’d like to have as a guest, just let me know. I’m sure we can coordinate it.”

“I’ll consider that,” Yoongi says, genuinely pleased. “I appreciate all the hard work you’ve put into this by the way. I know the timeline has been tight.”

“Well, it’s been a team effort,” you say, smiling warmly. “But thank you. It’s been fun, even if a bit hectic now and then. I have to say, it’s been nice working closely with you, Yoongi-ssi. You’re very dedicated to your craft and I think more often than not, we tend to see eye to eye.”

Yoongi seems to blush slightly at your compliment but maintains his composure. “Good to know you like me after fifteen days,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes. “I was starting to think this partnership might be a bit one-sided, especially after our chat during that smoke break a while ago.”

His lighthearted remark brings you back to that brief smoke break behind the building. It was a simple, candid moment, but it left a lasting impression, making you feel like you and Yoongi were finally starting to become good colleagues. The easy rapport that’s developed between you two since then is a welcome change from the often formal interactions with other team members.

“Well, if I recall correctly,” you counter, “You said you only like me ‘enough.’ That’s not quite the same as actually liking someone and wanting to work with them.”

Amused, Yoongi’s smirk grows. “It was implied, wasn’t it? You know I wouldn’t work with you if I didn’t actually like you.”

“Really?” you say, raising an eyebrow, your tone teasing.

“I have no reason to lie to you, __-ssi.” Yoongi insists, his voice light but his gaze steady. There’s a moment of playful tension in the air, both of you smiling as you challenge each other with your eyes.

“Interesting,” you reply, tilting your head slightly. Though mutually taunting each other, there’s something about Yoongi’s words and tone that still feels reassuring, grounding even.

Before either of you can exchange another word, you hear footsteps nearing behind you. Turning, you see Kim Namjoon entering the studio with a warm smile on his face. He’s dressed casually yet stylishly, exuding the effortless charisma that has made him a beloved figure among fans.

“Morning,” Namjoon greets, his voice carrying a familiar depth. He adjusts the bottom of his shirt, giving the studio a once-over. “I hope I’m not late or anything.”

Approaching Namjoon, you greet him with an inviting smile and extend your hand for a handshake. His response is equally friendly, and there’s a sense of gentle confidence coming from him, as any good leader should have.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, __-nim,” Namjoon responds, shaking your hand warmly. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Yoongi-hyung.”

Somewhat taken aback by the bit of information, you share a glance with Yoongi, who briefly meets your eyes before averting his gaze back to Namjoon. A faint rosy tint colors his cheeks once again.

“This place looks fantastic. You’ve really outdone yourselves,” Namjoon continues.

“Thank you,” you say, feeling a surge of pride. “We wanted to create a space where our guests feel comfortable and can have open, honest conversations. I think we’ve achieved that.”

Namjoon nods in agreement, taking in the surroundings with a thoughtful expression. “It definitely feels welcoming. I’m looking forward to seeing it all come together in the end.”

“Congratulations on your new album by the way,” you add. “I’m sure Indigo is going to be a success, especially amongst your fans who have been waiting for another solo from you for quite some time.”

“Thanks, it’s been a journey and I’m glad to have such a loyal fanbase who continue to support me for the last nine-plus years. It always lifts my spirits.”

“Absolutely, and you deserve it too,” you reply. “I’ve been a huge supporter of The Last Shadow Puppets for over ten years myself, and I think I’ve officially become their gatekeeper.” As you allow yourself a light chuckle, the two in front of you smile in return. Yoongi looks like he wants to press further but chooses to remain silent.

“Well anyway,” you shift topics due to the minor lull, “we should get started.”

Namjoon nods approvingly. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

“We’ve got a brief rundown for you,” you say, motioning towards a table with a few scripts and notes. “We’ll start with a casual chat to set the tone, then delve into some of your recent projects and thoughts on the music industry. We want it to be as natural and spontaneous as possible, so don’t worry about sticking too closely to the script. Also, we know ‘Indigo’ won’t be officially released for two more days, but ‘Suchwita’ is premiering on the 5th. That said, we are filming ahead of time so Yoongi might guide the conversation as if your album’s already been released.”

“Sounds good,” Namjoon says, his relaxed demeanor showing his readiness to go with the flow. “Anything specific you want me to prepare for?”

“No, just be yourself,” you reply with a reassuring smile. “That’s what this show is all about. Authentic conversations, nothing forced. Yoongi-ssi will take the seat on the right of the camera and Namjoon-nim, you’ll be on the left.”

“Got it,” Namjoon says, giving you a thumbs up. He then turns to Yoongi. “Hyung, ready to show off your hosting skills?”

Yoongi chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “We’ll see how it goes. It’s my first time doing something like this, so I’m just hoping not to embarrass myself.”

“You’ll do great,” Namjoon says confidently, giving Yoongi a supportive pat on the back. “Just be your usual, charming self.”

As the crew finishes their preparations and the cameras start rolling, you stand off to the side, monitoring the setup and ensuring everything runs smoothly. The room falls silent as the red recording light flickers on.

Yoongi takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair.

“Welcome, everyone, to the first episode of ‘Suchwita…time to drink with Suga.’ I’m your host, Min Yoongi, and today we have a very special guest. Someone who’s not just a fellow artist but a good friend and our BTS band leader, Kim Namjoon.”

“Happy to be here,” Namjoon says with a grin. “And thanks for the drink.” He picks up his glass of whiskey and raises it in a mock toast.

Yoongi chuckles and lifts his own glass. “Cheers, Namjoon-ah. Let’s dive in. I wanted to start by talking about your new album, Indigo. It’s been out for a few days now, and it’s already making waves. How are you feeling about the responses?”

Namjoon takes a sip before answering, his demeanor relaxed. “It’s been amazing. The fans have been so supportive, and it’s really encouraging to see people connecting with the themes and messages in the album. I wanted it to be something that reflects where I am in my life right now, both musically and personally.”

“That’s something I’ve always admired about your work,” Yoongi says, his tone genuine. “You’re not afraid to be vulnerable and share your thoughts and experiences. I think that’s why so many people resonate with your music.”

“It’s something we all strive for, isn’t it?” Namjoon replies, looking thoughtful. “To create art that’s true to ourselves and that speaks to others. I think it’s all about finding that balance between vulnerability and strength that can make music so relatable. Speaking of which, I’m excited to hear more about your upcoming album, D-Day. What can fans expect?”

Yoongi takes a moment to gather his thoughts. “D-Day is a very personal project for me. It’s a reflection of my journey and everything I’ve been through, especially over the past couple of years. There’s a lot of introspection and a lot of different sounds I’ve experimented with. I wanted it to be an honest portrayal of where I am right now.”

“That sounds incredible,” Namjoon says, leaning forward. “I know the fans are going to love it. You’ve always had a way of capturing emotions in your music that’s really powerful.”

As the conversation continues, you observe Namjoon closely, impressed by his ability to articulate his thoughts with clarity and depth. Yoongi’s previous nervousness has also subsided from the way he easily navigates the conversation, speaking with a similar passion and conviction as Namjoon.

The pair have a natural rapport that is captivating to watch, and their insights into the creative process are both fascinating and inspiring.

After about an hour, when the first taping wraps up, the crew applauds as Yoongi and Namjoon stand and share a brief hug.

“Well we did it,” Yoongi says, looking relieved. “Thanks for being my first guest.”

“Anytime,” Namjoon replies, grinning. “You did great, Yoongi I think this show is going to be a hit.”

“Great job, both of you.” You approach the two with a smile, earning their attention. “Fans are going to love seeing you two together once this releases. It’ll set the tone for the rest of the episodes. Thanks again, Namjoon, for being here. Your support means a lot.”

“It was my pleasure,” Namjoon replies, returning your smile. “I can’t wait to see how the show turns out.”

Just as you’re about to head off to the production room, Namjoon briefly checks his phone and then looks at Yoongi. “Hey, how do you feel about grabbing some lunch at the cafeteria? It’s been a while since we had a proper meal together.”

Yoongi’s face lifts at the suggestion. “I’m up for it. I’m starving.”

Namjoon then shifts his gaze at you. “What about you __-nim?”

You hesitate for a moment, feeling an obvious pang of hunger. You hadn’t eaten much this morning other than a few strawberries. However, you don’t want to intrude on their time together.

As you debate whether to decline the invitation and catch up on Taehyung’s whereabouts or attend to your next work projects, Yoongi speaks up. “The more the merrier,” he says.

“Yeah, if you don’t have anything pressing we’d love to have you join us,” Namjoon adds, the same warm smile on his face.

Your eyes shift between the two men standing in front of you, sincerity evident in their expressions.

“Okay, sure, I could go for something to eat,” you reply, nodding.

With a collective agreement, the three of you make your way to the cafeteria. Once there, Yoongi opts for a heaping plate of bulgogi, his eyes gleaming at the sight of the colorful vegetables and perfectly marinated beef. Namjoon selects a fresh, savory bowl of stir-fried noodles himself, while you choose a hearty bowl of ramen, steam rising from the rich broth.

Despite the bustling lunch hour, you manage to find a table near the large windows. The sunlight streaming through gives you a much-needed boost of energy.

“Here’s to a successful first episode,” Namjoon says, raising his glass of water in a toast.

“Cheers,” you and Yoongi respond in unison, clinking glasses.

As you start to dig into your meals, Namjoon turns to Yoongi. “So, what’s the lineup gonna look like for the next few episodes?”

Yoongi takes a sip of his drink before answering. “We’re planning on bringing in more artists from other groups, a couple of comedians, and maybe some actors. We want to keep it diverse and not just stick to musicians. But I’d also like to get the rest of our members on the show too at some point.”

“That’s smart,” Namjoon agrees, taking a bite of his noodles. “It’ll keep the conversations dynamic and appeal to a broader audience.”

“You know,” you chime in, “I think one of the strengths of ‘Suchwita’ is going to be its versatility. Yoongi, your ability to connect with people from different backgrounds will be a huge asset.”

Yoongi smiles appreciatively. “Thanks. I just hope I can keep up the energy and bring out the best in each guest.”

“You will,” Namjoon says confidently. “Just be yourself. That’s what people are tuning in for—the real Yoongi, having real conversations. Fans like seeing how well you can hold your whiskey too. It’s all part of the charm.”

Yoongi chuckles at the sheer truth of it all. “It’s nice to be able to do something like this, to be honest. Not just for the fans, but also for our colleagues who we can spotlight and bring further appreciation to.”

“I know what you mean, man.” Namjoon swallows another mouthful of noodles and then directs his attention to you. “I don’t imagine you’ll be a guest on the show will you?”

“Definitely not,” you reply, shaking your head. “I’ll be in the background, like a puppet master.”

“Ah, gotta make sure hyung says the right stuff huh? Trust me, I’d be the first to understand that,” Namjoon chuckles before continuing.“I feel like you’d be a natural on the show though. I, for one, would make sure to watch.” There’s a suggestive undertone in his words but you’re quick to waive it off. It’s probably just your imagination anyway.

“I wouldn’t mind having an excuse to enjoy some old-fashioned whiskey at work,” you reply. “It’s been a long-time favorite of mine.”

“Oh, you like it too?” Namjoon’s eyes widen unexpectedly. “No wonder you and Yoongi work well together.”

Intrigued, Yoongi looks at you, and it’s now that you realize he’s chosen to take the seat next to you instead of Namjoon. If you leaned any further towards him, you’re certain you’d catch the scent of smoked wood and citrus. “I always keep a bottle in my producing room these days,” he admits, and like Namjoon there’s a slight implication behind his words.

Before entertaining any further thoughts about it, however, you playfully snort in reply. “Is that what you’re doing up there at 10 pm? Having your whiskey? Here I’ve been thinking you were busy mixing your tracks.”

Yoongi shrugs, meeting your teasing tone. “I can do both. I’m good at multitasking.”

A giggle escapes your lips as you land a gentle, but firm swat on his arm. The unsuspecting action would have taken you all aback if you weren’t already amused by the conversation. “Yoongi-ssi,” you feign a scold, “no one’s actually good at multitasking.”

“So what are you saying? I’m half-assing it?” He’s grinning ear to ear now, his gummy smile undeniably cute. For a split second, it causes a blooming sensation in the pit of your stomach. But no, stop—you fold your arms, determined to maintain composure.

“I’m just saying that I’ll believe it when I see it.”

As if in a challenge, Yoongi narrows his eyes at you while Namjoon continues watching the scene unfold from across the table, eyes darting between the two of you. “You’ll have to come up to my producing room sometime,” Yoongi says. “It’s the only way I can prove it to you.”

“Mhm, right.” You share a knowing look with Yoongi, his dark eyes dancing with what can only be described as mischief. Being that his music equipment is on the 17th floor, which is reserved for Hybe artists only, you haven’t even considered venturing to the upper halls.

“You really should see his producing room __-nim,” Namjoon chimes after being a spectator for longer than he’d like. “He’s got an insane setup up there.”

“We’ll see,” you reply simply, “Maybe.”

From the remainder of your meal, the conversation shifts to lighter topics as Yoongi recounts a funny story about trying to write lyrics late at night and accidentally sending them to his accountant instead of Taehuyng. Namjoon bursts out laughing, nearly spilling his water, while you shake your head in amused disbelief.

“Did they give you any financial advice on your lyrics?” you prob.

“Surprisingly, no.” Yoongi replies with a chuckle. “But I got a very confusing email the next morning.”

“We should do this more often,” Namjoon interjects once he finishes his noodles, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. “It’s good to catch up, and it’s great getting to know you too, __-nim. I’m glad you could join us.”

“Well, thanks for inviting me,” you say with a smile of gratitude. “It’s been nice.”

After lunch concludes, you part ways with Yoongi and Namjoon. They head off to a meeting with the rest of the members, while you return to your office to tackle a pile of reports. If you hadn’t been so focused on making your way back, you might have noticed Yoongi sneaking a final glance at you over his shoulder.

Later that evening, after a long day of preparations and discussions with your team, you finally head home. The events of the day still linger in your mind, but a sense of accomplishment accompanies your fatigue as the first episode of 'Suchwita' is already being edited for release.

How is it that tomorrow is already the first day of December? Time flies.

As you unlock the door to your apartment and step inside, your phone buzzes with a notification. It’s a message from your parents, asking for the second time if you’ll be coming home for the holidays. You recall your mother’s earlier message mentioning someone she wanted to introduce you to—a potential husband. You had seen through her request instantly but had delayed your reply.

A pang of guilt now tugs at your heart as you finally type out your response, carefully explaining that you have a new project to film and won’t have many days off. You promise to try and visit around New Year’s instead, hoping you’ll be better mentally prepared then.

Setting your phone down, you realize you haven’t heard from Taehyung today. Usually, he checks in or shares a quick update about his schedule. You wonder if everything is alright with him but decide not to overthink it, making a mental note to reach out to him tomorrow.

After changing into more comfortable clothes, you settle down on the couch with a cup of tea. The quietness of your apartment is a stark contrast to the lively energy of the production set.

As you sip your tea, you start to relax, but then your phone buzzes again. This time, it’s a message from Taehyung. You quickly open it, relieved to see his name.

Tae 💚: Hey, sorry I didn’t check earlier. It’s been a crazy day. How did the first taping go with Yoongi and Namjoon?

Smiling, you type out a reply.

You: It went really well. We should have everything edited and ready for upload by Monday. How about you? Everything okay?

Tae 💚: Good to hear! Yeah, everything’s okay on my end. Just a full day with shoots and meetings with Bang PD. I’m sorry we didn’t get to have our usual lunch together 🙁

You: Me too. Maybe tomorrow?

Tae 💚: I should be able to. Let me know when you decide to head down. By the way…look [attached an image]

The second you see the image of farm-fresh strawberries in a vibrant green container, you nearly leap from your seat. You and Taehyung love fruit, especially the ones from the local farmers market where they have the best variety. You like to go every other weekend, at the same time, if you could. The only unfortunate part is that to keep down rumors, Taehyung and you often shopped separately as if strangers, then reconvened in a private location to show each other your purchases. Often, he’d come to your place for a meal afterward.

It wasn’t an ideal system since you’d like to be out with Taehyung more freely, but despite the crowds, the public was always quick to recognize him. This coming Saturday is the next time you both planned to go, but the image looks like he’s already been there.

You: What?! 😭 You went to the farmers market without me??

Tae 💚: Oh, no! I wouldn't dream of it! This is the last container I have at my house, so we need to go soon. Saturday can’t come soon enough!

You: Okay good, because I like going together haha. I need more mangos and oranges! I ate my last orange today and got sad about it.

Tae 💚: 🤣 You sound like Yoongi-hyung. He loves oranges too. The two of you have more similarities in food and drinks than I thought. Has he offered you a drink of his whiskey yet?

The question surprises you. Had Yoongi told him what happened between the two of you at lunch?

You: How did you know that?

Tae 💚: Wait, really? I was just asking because he likes to offer it to me whenever I visit him in his studio. He really asked you to have a drink with him? __?

You: Yes. After we filmed, we all decided to grab lunch. Long story short, Yoongi said he had whiskey in his producing room and said I should come up sometime. I haven’t even been to the 17th floor yet.

Tae 💚: You should take him up on the offer! Go see what he’s got going on up there __. His studio is pretty immaculate.

You: Hmm, I don't know. It was a pretty informal invite, to be honest, and I’m not technically allowed up there.

Tae 💚: Don’t think so much about it. It’s clear that you and Yoongi are work partners now, so no one will think twice about you being on the floor. Also, you can always come up and visit me. I’m down the hall from Yoongi’s room.

You: We’ll see.

Tae 💚: What? You don’t want to come up and see me? I always visit you. 😭

You: Fine, fine. I’ll come up to see you one of these days, but only you. I have no business knocking on Yoongi’s door while he’s busy with his album tracks.

Tired, you shut off your phone. Your thoughts drift back to the moments shared with Yoongi and Namjoon during lunch. It was nice getting to know Namjoon for the first time, as you’ve been curious about him since he’s been the leader of BTS for the past nine years. There’s a similarity you both share; leadership experience.

You feel like you got closer to Yoongi as well, with the way you both easily responded to each other’s quips. But where did that playful swat come from? That’s the kind of behavior you reserve for friends only. Was Yoongi starting to become more than a colleague?

The idea sends an unexpected rush through your veins.

With the first of December being tomorrow, it’s coming up on three weeks of working side by side with Yoongi. You meant it when you said working with him has been enjoyable, as you’ve found that his meticulous nature complements your own. His dry humor is one you’ve particularly come to appreciate too.

Yes, finding common ground on some decisions can be tricky. There have been moments where you’ve both stood firm on your perspectives, each believing in the merit of your ideas. However, even amid disagreement, there is always mutual respect extended toward each other. Yoongi listens intently, considering your points before responding, and you do the same for him.

Given the nature of it all, you have a feeling you’ll become better acquainted not only with Yoongi but also with the rest of his members. After all, you’re already best friends with Taehyung, who’s quite the networker. He’s been your anchor in this new environment since day one, to be honest, always ready with a smile or a word of encouragement.

Taking another sip of your tea, you lean your head back against the couch, staring up at the blank ceiling, lost in thought.

You should truly learn to savor the quiet moments because, for the remainder of the week, you don’t get a second to spare. Lunch with Taehyung was abruptly cut short by an unforeseen team emergency, and Yoongi’s packed schedule left little room for more than fleeting glimpses. By the time Saturday morning rolls around, you consider yourself fortunate to have the weekend mostly free of work demands.

The crisp chill of early December invigorates you as you wake up refreshed, eager for the farmers market trip you’ve been looking forward to all week. After a quick breakfast, you bundle up in a cozy scarf and jacket and head to the familiar meeting spot where you and Taehyung always begin your market visits.

When you arrive, Taehyung is already there, a familiar baseball cap perched on his head to help keep a low profile. He looks up and waves when he sees you, a bright smile lighting up his face.

"Hey! You made it," Taehyung says as you approach.

"Of course, I wouldn't miss this," you reply, grinning back. "I need my mango and orange fix."

"Well, you're in luck. They have some really good ones today," he says, carefully pointing towards the nearby stalls that overflow with colorful fruits. The market appears to be alive with vibrant colors and enticing scents, and as the crowds grow, vendors enthusiastically call out their specials, adding to the lively atmosphere.

“See you on the other side?” you ask.

He nods, and you both venture into the market, maintaining an appropriate distance but always within sight. You exchange occasional glances and smiles while picking out the ripest mangos, juiciest oranges, and a few baskets of the strawberries he teased you about earlier in the week.

As you weave through the stalls, you soon get lost in the joy of discovering fresh, local products, comforted by the knowledge that Taehyung's just a few stalls away.

After about an hour, you reconvene at a quiet corner of the market, both carrying bags filled with fruits and other goodies.

"Successful haul?" Taehyung asks, eyeing your bags.

"Definitely," you reply, holding up a mango triumphantly. "How about you?"

"Got everything I wanted," he says, showing off his own bags filled with strawberries, grapes, and a few other items. "These will be perfect for a smoothie, or a fruit salad."

"How about we head back to my place and one of those? If you have time."

“Yes, I definitely have time,” he agrees, a genuine excitement in his voice.

Just as you start walking towards your apartment, a sudden movement catches your eye—a rogue orange rolling towards your feet.

Puzzled, you pick it up and look around, thinking it must have come from a nearby vendor or another shopper.

"Looks like you've found your orange," Taehyung remarks with a chuckle.

Just then, you spot a familiar figure sprinting towards you, with another following closely behind.

"Namjoon, seriously? I asked you to hold the bag for not even five seconds!" Yoongi calls out, his tone a mix of amusement and exasperation. "You're going to start a fruit-rolling revolution."

“Hey, it got away from me, man!” Namjoon defends his clumsiness, laughing. “Sorry about that," he adds sheepishly, not yet realizing who he's approaching.

“__-nim!” He abruptly stops in his tracks when he recognizes you and Taehyung in front of him. You offer the orange to him instinctively, feeling a bit startled.

“Thanks,” Namjoon says, taking the orange from your hand. He looks you straight in the eye, then at Taehyung before slowly breaking into a full smile. “I thought I saw the two of you back there, but Yoongi didn't believe me. When did you guys get here? Yoongi and I arrived about twenty minutes ago."

"About an hour ago," Taehyung replies casually.

"Man, you should have let us know. We could have come as a group!”

The remark catches you off guard, as this is the first time the four of you have been in such close proximity, let alone on a group outing.

Taehyung shrugs nonchalantly in response. “I had plans with __.”

Namjoon chuckles, glancing between all of you. “Well hey, I understand. I’m just saying, I’d be fun to hang out outside of work sometime.”

“But, this is our thing,” Taehyung counters, a bit possessively, in a platonic sense, of course.

Beside Namjoon, Yoongi stands with a single bag of oranges in his hand and nothing else. His eyes widen slightly at Taehyung's words, glancing at the bag of oranges nestled among the other fruits you're holding.

"You have a thing?" Yoongi asks, his tone a mix of genuine surprise and a hint of amusement.

"Yeah, we come here often," Taehyung answers, a small smile playing on his lips. "We're both fruit fanatics!"

"Right," Yoongi nods slowly, seeming to process this new information. "Well, it makes sense then. This is the best place to get the freshest fruit.”

“Is that a pineapple, Tae?” Namjoon’s eyes instantly light up when they spot the spiky fruit peeking out of one of Taehyung’s grocery bags.

A grin spreads across Taehyung’s face, like oil on water. “Yeah, it is. I found it at a little hidden stall. It’s easier to show you than to explain. I can take you over if you’d like.”

“Lead the way,” Namjoon agrees eagerly, then glances over at you and Yoongi. “You guys coming too?” You both exchange a quick look before shaking your head.

"We'll stay here," you say. "The crowd's a bit much."

"Alright, we’ll be back in a few minutes,” Taehyung nods. He and Namjoon begin weaving their way back into the bustling market, leaving you and Yoongi in the quiet corner.

Yoongi leans against a nearby wall and lets out a contented sigh. “This is nice. It’s been a hell of a week.”

You nod, taking a moment to appreciate the calmness as well. “It has. But look,” you gesture casually to each other’s bags, “at least we scored some amazing fruit from it.”

Yoongi chuckles softly. “So we did. I’m tempted to have one of my oranges now, but I think I'll save them for later. How’s the rest of the weekend looking for you by the way?”

Just some editing work for 'Suchwita' and maybe a bit of relaxation. What about you?"

“I might grab a few drinks with Namjoon, but I plan on spending most of my time in the studio. I’ve been fine-tuning my album tracks and recently discovered a new artist who’s been a huge source of inspiration.”

“Really?” You’re beyond intrigued, always open to hearing about new music. “Who are they?”

Yoongi gives you a knowing look. “I think you’re already pretty familiar with them.” A sparkle beams in his eyes as he waits for you to connect the dots. It takes you a few seconds before your entire face lights up with a big smile.

“No way,” you exclaim, “The Last Shadow Puppets?!”

He nods, returning your smile. Yoongi’s admission about The Last Shadow Puppets sends a warm thrill through you.

“I’m glad you gave them a listen,” you say with a pleased grin. “I consider Alex Turner to be one of the best, if not the best, lyricists of all time.”

“Well, I might just have to agree with you there. The depth of his lyrics are pretty damn genius. After you mentioned the band the other day, I got curious and decided to dive into their discography. I’ve listened to everything they’ve put out now, all in one sitting.” He pauses, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

It’s as if he’s proud to share this with you.

“I didn’t realize you had such an impressive ear for music, __-ssi,” he adds, teasing lightly.

“Excuse you? I’ve been known to have impeccable taste, for your information,” you fire back, feigning offense. "I might even have better taste than you."

Yoongi raises an eyebrow skeptically. “Is that so?”

You nod confidently. "Absolutely. I've got a knack for finding hidden gems."

“Alright then, impress me. Recommend me something else. What's the next masterpiece on your list?”

You lean in closer, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Oh, I could do that," you begin, "but then you'd owe me cigarettes for a week."

Yoongi's eyes widen slightly, a similar competitiveness reflecting in his gaze. "Bold words. Are you sure you can back them up?"

“There’s no doubt I can, Yoongi-ssi. Have you ever listened to 'Candy' by Paolo Nutini? If you haven't, you're seriously missing out."

"Candy? I don't think I know that one."

"You're in for a treat then,” you reply. "'Candy' is one of those songs that hook you from the first listen. Give it a try, and if you don't fall in love with it, I'll cook you kimchi jigae for lunch on Monday. But if you do love it, you're buying me cigarettes for a week."

Yoongi chuckles, unable to resist the challenge. "Alright, deal. I can't say no, especially with Taehyung showing off the food you make for him nearly every chance he gets. You’re quite the cook, it seems.”

With a satisfied grin, you pull out your phone. "I'll send you the link to the song so it'll be easier for you to find when you get a chance to listen."

Yoongi nods, already unlocking his phone. “Challenge accepted. But if I end up not loving it, I'm holding you to that bowl of kimchi jigae.”

“Sure thing,” you reply, unfazed. “But I’m already looking forward to those cigarettes, Yoongi-ssi. Make sure you get the good ones, okay?”

Yoongi chuckles in reply, shaking his head in amusement.

“I promise. Only the best ones for you, __-ssi.”

Monday arrives sooner than expected with the highly anticipated release of the first episode of 'Suchwita'. You're certain that the new production will be well received by the audience, but you know better than to prematurely declare its success. Even after approving the final edits over the weekend, you remind yourself to remain mindful of unexpected challenges lurking around the corner—roadblocks and last-minute changes that continually test your team's resolve.

Throughout the day, as the clock ticks towards evening, you monitor the episode's reception with bated breath. The first reviews trickle in within minutes, and initial viewer reactions are positive, gradually easing some of your tension.

By just past 7 pm, 'Suchwita' earns over three million views, its popularity evident as it spreads rapidly across the globe.

Amidst this whirlwind of emotions and the constant rush of notifications, a familiar buzz from your phone interrupts your thoughts.

Yoongi: Looks like I owe you some cigarettes

You smile, immediately recalling the recent wager the two of you made about Paolo Nutini's "Candy”. Truth be told, Yoongi’s reaction to the song has kept you on edge for days.

You: So, do you believe I have a good ear for music now? 🙃 I’m pleased you enjoyed the song, by the way.

Yoongi: It appears I do. The cigarettes are in my production room. Come by if you're up for it.

You blink at the screen, taken aback. Yoongi's producing room was his sanctuary, a place so personal and significant that the thought of being in that space felt almost invasive. You recall his casual remark last Wednesday about coming up to take a look, though it was unclear if it was just banter or a genuine invitation.

You: You sure it's okay for me to come up there? I don't want to disturb your creative zone.

Sending the message, you wait, half-expecting him to retract the invitation or reassure you in some way. Instead, his reply comes almost instantly.

Yoongi: It's quiet here, and I wouldn’t mind some good company.

Your mind wrestles with curiosity and caution as you reread the text. After a moment's deliberation, you type your response.

You: Okay, I can come up for a few minutes

Once in front of the 17th floor where Yoongi’s production room is located, you pull out your phone to send him a text, notifying him of your arrival and the need to be let in. Just as you're about to send the message, however, the door suddenly swings open.

Standing before you is a man with soft eyes, gently pushing the door open. It's Park Jimin, looking visibly surprised to find you standing just inches away from the entrance. Behind him, Jungkook nearly bumps into him from the abrupt halt.

"Hey there," Jimin says, his surprise quickly transforming into a welcoming smile. "You must be __-nim, Yoongi's marketing manager, right?"

You nod, slightly unprepared for how quickly they've identified you. "Yes, that's me. Nice to meet you, Jimin, Jungkook," you reply warmly, extending your hand in greeting. Meeting them was inevitable, but you didn’t expect it to happen tonight.

Jungkook grins and nods in acknowledgment. "Nice to meet you too, __-nim. I’m guessing you’re here to see Yoongi-hyung?”

“For a little bit, yes.”

"Come on in then.” Jimin steps aside, gesturing for you to enter. “If Yoongi's expecting you, you're more than welcome. We'd take you straight to him if we weren't rushing off to a last-minute photoshoot. His room's just down the hall on the left. You can’t miss it."

“I completely understand,” you assure them gratefully. “Thank you both. It was nice meeting you.”

With a final smile, the pair exits the floor, leaving you to continue down the hallway.

It doesn't take long before you spot a slightly ajar door on the far left, casting a warm glow into the corridor—undeniably Yoongi’s production room. Without hesitation, you approach and knock gently on the dark oak, but there's no response. Trying again yields the same silence, leaving you uncertain if he can hear you. Deciding it may be better to push the door open, you do so with caution.

Inside Yoongi's production room, the atmosphere is cozy, filled with an array of musical instruments, a decent-sized couch, scattered music sheets, and a softly glowing computer screen displaying complex audio tracks. Taehyung and Namjoon were absolutely right when they said his space is immaculate because as you take in the details around you, you too conclude that it’s one of a kind.

Yoongi himself is at his desk, leaning over with an expression of intense focus. You're prepared to make a playful remark to capture his attention, but as Yoongi looks up, his bloodshot eyes stop you short. They are reddened and slightly glazed, with dark circles underneath—a stark contrast to the usual sharpness and clarity in his gaze. Even his posture seems weighed down by exhaustion, indicating just how hard he's been pushing himself, perhaps too hard.

“I see you found the place alright," he smiles weakly, though he does his best to keep his tone uplifted. "I’m glad you could come."

“Yoongi-ssi, are you okay?” You can’t stop yourself from asking, concern only tightening in your chest as you realize the extent of the strain he must be under.

Yoongi chuckles, rubbing his eyes as if to wipe away the fatigue etched into his face. “I might have overdone it this weekend,” he confesses, his voice heavy with weariness. “I’ve been working on this track nonstop, trying to get it just right. I just don’t think it’s good enough yet, and the minute I think I’ve finally made a break though, I’m back to square one.” Seeing him so drained and filled with self-doubt stirs something protective within you.

“Your work is incredible, Yoongi-ssi,” you say, your voice gentle but firm. “You pour so much of yourself into it, constantly striving for perfection, and that dedication is admirable. But sometimes, it’s important to take a step back, breathe, and allow yourself to be proud of your work. I believe in your talent as both an artist and a producer, and I'm confident that your music will be exactly what it needs to be.”

Yoongi looks at you for a moment, his tired eyes searching yours as if assessing your sincerity. Slowly, a small, appreciative smile forms on his lips. "Thanks," he murmurs, the weariness in his voice tempered by a hint of gratitude. "I think I needed to hear some of that tonight.”

Without another word, he leans back in his chair, letting out a deep sigh. His shoulders visibly relax, and for a brief moment, the weight of exhaustion seems to ease.

"Do you want to talk about what you've been working on?” you ask. “Sometimes bouncing ideas around helps."

Yoongi nods slowly, looking thoughtful. "Maybe that's exactly what I need right now," he admits, his tone more relaxed than before. He gestures to the leather couch near his desk, inviting you to sit.

As you settle into the comfortable leather couch, Yoongi begins to share his thoughts. He speaks about the challenges he's encountered with the track, detailing moments of doubt and frustration.

"I've been wrestling with this melody for weeks," he admits, leaning forward slightly. "It's like I can hear it in my head, but every time I try to put it down, it slips away."

He describes how he struggled to find the right melody, the perfect rhythm, and the lyrics that would convey exactly what he wanted to express.

"I want this track to resonate with people on a deeper level," he says earnestly, his eyes reflecting his determination. “But it's been tough trying to balance the beat with the lyrics."

As he delves deeper into his creative process, you notice a shift in his demeanor. His voice becomes more animated, his gestures more expressive as he shares anecdotes about late-night studio sessions, where ideas flowed freely, and moments of clarity when everything seemed to click into place.

"It's moments like those," he reflects with a smile, "that remind me why I love what I do."

Throughout the conversation, you offer supportive nods and occasional insights, encouraging Yoongi to explore different angles or suggesting ideas that might complement his vision. It becomes clear that bouncing ideas around, as you suggested earlier, is indeed helping him to clarify his thoughts and reignite his creative spark.

"You know," he muses after a thoughtful pause, "it's rare to find someone who gets it—understands the drive, the struggle. Most people just see the end result, not what it takes to get there."

You nod again, silently acknowledging the depth of what he shares. "I'm glad I can be here for you," you reply sincerely. "It means a lot that you trust me with this."

"Would you like a drink? Some whiskey, maybe?" Yoongi pops the question out of nowhere, catching you off guard, yet you don’t decline the offer.

"Sure, but only if you promise to get some rest after," you counter, half-joking, half-serious. He chuckles in response.

Rising from his seat, Yoongi walks to a small cabinet and pulls out a bottle of whiskey along with two glasses. As he pours the amber liquid, the room seems to exhale with him, the earlier tension melting away.

"Mind if I sit with you?" he asks, handing you a glass of whiskey and gesturing to the space beside you on the couch.

You nod in acceptance and take a sip of your drink, feeling the warmth of the whiskey spread through you.

"Thanks for coming up here," Yoongi says, his voice noticeably more relaxed than before. ”I didn't realize how much I needed a break until tonight.”

You nod, understanding the weight of creative pressures and the relentless pursuit of perfection. "It's important to recharge," you reply gently, raising your glass. "To moments like this—where we can step back and just be."

Yoongi clinks his glass against yours, a faint smile playing on his lips. "To moments like this," he echoes, taking a sip.

As the conversation flows, the evening unfolds into a rhythm of shared stories, musings about life, and occasional quiet moments where the only sound is the soft hum of the room.

“__-ssi,” he starts, swirling the whiskey in his glass, "I should really get you up here more often. This could be a thing. Whiskey breaks in my producing room."

You laugh, the sound light and genuine. "Count me in," you reply, raising your glass once more.

"And before I forget," Yoongi chuckles, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, "I owe you for introducing me to some new, kick-ass music."

"Why, thank you," you reply with a smile. "Much appreciated. You got the good kind too. You spoil me, Yoongi-ssi."

“You’re welcome. Can I be honest for a second though?”

“Sure.”

“Part of me was actually hoping I’d dislike ‘Candy’ because I had a feeling you make a mean kimchi jigae. But the song was too good; I had to pay it respect.”

“I told you you’d fall in love with it, Yoongi-ssi” you say, perhaps a bit cheekier than intended. “Let's start a new wager: I'll make my special homemade kimchi jigae for you.”

"Really?" His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas day.

"Yes, I will," you giggle, "as long as you keep taking my music recommendations."

"Deal," he says firmly, setting down his glass. He extends his hand for you to shake, and you both laugh at his sudden goofiness. “Thanks again for tonight, __-ssi, for everything.”

“Of course,” you reply. “I told you we’re teammates now, didn’t I?”

“After tonight, I think we could be friends too.”

As you both linger in the moment, the studio's door swings open, and a voice calls out, "Hey, Yoongi, are you still here?"

Yoongi glances towards the door and then back at you with a playful smirk. "Looks like I've got more company," he says, nodding towards the doorway.

I’ll let you get back to work," you say, gesturing towards his mixing board. "Can't wait to hear more of these tracks."

"Thanks," he says warmly, appreciating your encouragement. "And about that kimchi jigae…"

"You haven't forgotten?" you tease, raising an eyebrow.

“Never,” he replies with a grin, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

With a final wave, you leave Yoongi to his work, wondering if perhaps being friends wasn't so far-fetched after all. Only time would tell.

a/n: Hope you enjoyed it! Lmk what you think 🥰

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hiraethwa · 2 months

Text

one summer day

12 shoot for the stars. where you celebrate ushijima’s signing with a tokyo team

<< 11 star-crossed.| >> 13 hello, tokyo.

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader word count: 1.6k warnings: nothing much tags: @lemurzsquad @daisy-room @integers @brokenscaredakira @whosmarjj -- (inbox me if you want to be added to the tag list)

december, third year

the weather turns cold, ushering in the snowy winter days. you realize it will be the last winter you share with ushijima if you don’t end up going to school in tokyo next year.

“let’s go to tokyo together” you remember his words, clear as the night sky the words were spoken under. ushijima had stayed true to his words, choosing to accept an offer to play with a v-league division one team based in tokyo.

the ball is quite literally in your court now.

your hands shake as you rip open the letter from the university of tokyo, the thin envelope almost foretelling the results. your eyes scan the words quickly. thank you for your application… we receive thousands of applicants… each goes through rigorous and demanding standards… we regret to inform–

the paper slips from your trembling hands.

cruel is the fate that dealt you your hand. you glance at the vision board balanced atop your dresser. the collage of letters torn out from magazines spelling out ‘university of tokyo’ mocking you like a cruel joke.

you bite your lip, swallowing the tears welling in your eyes. life goes on, and you have a party to get to.

ushijima’s celebration party is in full swing by the time you arrive. people chatting in groups, laughing, holding glasses of amber liquid. you recognize some of them, the players on the volleyball school team, a handful of classmates scattered across the sprawl of the first floor of the large house. a good portion of adults and strangers, who you assumed to be his mother’s friends or family.

you are late, but late is better than never. it seemed like the universe is against you getting here on time today. you had decided last minute that the outfit you had prepared could be too casual, rummaging through your cabinet for something more. and when you were done, you could not find the gift where you left it, causing you to be even later than you already were.

now weaving through the upscale crowd, looking for ushijima’s tall figure, you are glad that you went with a more formal outfit for the occasion. ah, there he is.

you stop dead in your tracks when you notice who he is talking to.

because looking up at ushijima with a gentle smile, hair pinned back carefully, is a stranger clad in a simple and elegant dress. you rack your brain, going through the students at your school but came up short, so she probably doesn’t go to shiratorizawa. you wouldn’t forget someone like this.

it is not just that, but also the two older ladies who are with them, presumably their mothers, that makes you pause.

there is a feeling that you can recount on one hand the times you felt it settle over you. the indescribable feeling of witnessing something pivotal happening before you know what it is. once when your parents came home from the doctors when you were a toddler, the biggest smiles on their faces. you later found out that it was the day they learned your mother is pregnant with your sister. the other time was when your father packed his bags for a week long business trip in tokyo after your sister’s funeral. that turned into two weeks, then a month, and a permanent role change and only seeing him on new year’s day and emergencies.

you twist away from them, ignoring that feeling that once again nudges itself against you.

“hey” semi finds you easily by the drinks pouring yourself a generous amount of the bitter liquid despite being underaged.

“you look good.” you nod your head in appreciation of the classy white button-up semi opted for.

“thanks, you talked to ushijima yet?”

“nah, he’s swarmed.”

he chuckles, “tell me about it.”

“want some?” you offer the cup to him.

“i thought you hate the smell of alcohol.” semi scrunches his nose at you.

“today’s a special occasion, isn’t it?” your hand tightens around the glass.

this is a celebratory party, you remind yourself. you had dropped off your gift at the entrance alongside the rather large pile of congratulatory presents, feeling out of place carrying the wrapped box around the party.

you knew that ushijima came from an influential family in the miyagi prefecture, but this far outweighs the picture you had in your head of how affluent they are. they had a whole coat check for guests in the foyer.

semi furrows his brows at your words. “shit, you heard back from tokyo today, didn’t you?”

“it has been decided, yeah.” you look away, finding ushijima making his way towards you. “let’s talk about this another time. tonight, we are celebrating.”

you lift your glass, inclining your head at the star of the night. unfamiliar faces gravitate towards him, stopping him on the way, smiling and congratulating him on his new position with the v-league team, pulling him into conversations.

the world has always kept its eyes on him, you think.

“yet his eyes are always on you.” semi comments, making you flush with realization that you spoke out loud.

“i don’t know if i want things to change. what if it all goes wrong?” you shake your head, understanding what semi is implying with his words.

despite coming to terms with the fact that the feelings might be mutual, you still have the irrational fear of having a fallout so catastrophic that you would lose him. that, and neither of you ever got around to addressing the shared moment during tanabata. you definitely were not putting it off as long as you could.

“what if it doesn’t?” what if it doesn’t? you have been unlucky your whole life that you know good things like that don’t just drop into your lap without some pre-attached conditions. lady luck has never been on your side, why would she start now?

“i don’t know, eita,” you shake your head. “it’s getting late, and i have an early morning practice tomorrow. i don’t think he’s gonna make it over at this rate. say hi to ushijima for me?”

your escape does not go unnoticed, for a moment later, ushijima catches up to you putting your jacket on in the foyer.

“you’re leaving already?” he frowns at you.

“yeah, sorry. i didn’t want to intrude since you seemed like you had your hands full.” you smile sheepishly at him, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “i know you've heard it plenty tonight but i’m gonna say it anyway. congratulations! i’m so proud of you! i did get you a gift, it's on the table over there.” you gesture at the table laden with bags of every size and carefully wrapped boxes.

“that’s not what i care about. did you hear back from tokyo? today is the last day the admission letters should arrive, right?” his hand finds yours, easily enveloping your relatively small hand. you are acutely aware of his warmth at the contact of his fingers around yours.

“maybe we should talk about this another–” you try to delay the news, but a stern voice calling his name grabs both your attention.

“we have guests waiting to talk to you, wakatoshi.” you recognize the older woman from earlier. her eyes narrow at the sight of ushijima holding your hand. “and don’t forget our agreement.”

“yes, mother.” she only gives you a curt nod before disappearing back to the party.

you exhale, blowing out the breath you weren’t aware of holding. she reminds you of ushijima’s stoic countenance. of course he got it from his intimidating mother.

ushijima turns to you, “before you go, i wanted to ask you if you want to share an apartment in tokyo. i found a nice two bedroom apartment, and i want to secure—”

you do a double take. flatmates? that is either the worst idea ever, or the best. but you didn’t have heart to knock him off his high tonight, nor did you want to put a damper on his mood by telling him about your rejection from the university of tokyo.

but it must have shown on your face, because he broke off halfway, concern clouding his eyes. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing to worry about,” you quickly cover. “that sounds nice, but let’s talk it over before we make it official.” you nod, chuckling quietly at the excitement ushijima is exuding as his eyes widen and fucking sparkles. fuck me sideways, how can i ever say no to him?

ushijima reluctantly releases your hand, looking back towards the party at the sound of his name being chanted. “i’ll see you at school on monday?”

“of course.” semi’s words earlier echo in your head, so you tiptoe, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek before you think twice and lose your courage. “good night!”

you basically sprint out of the front door.

it doesn’t occur to you until much later, that you probably shouldn’t have done that. it was a selfish action, spurred on by semi and the girl that ushijima was talking to.

it was unfair to ushijima, considering the letter of acceptance with a scholarship offer from Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique et de Danse de Paris sitting on your desk at home. one that you went over agonizingly with your limited but growing french vocabulary.

a snowflake lands on your skin, allowing you to admire its six-pointed crystal lattice momentarily before it melts from your warmth. you look up at the night sky filled with snow flurries dancing to the wind. a bittersweet smile hangs on your lips.

it is the last winter you will share with ushijima. fate brought you together more than two years ago, both of your lives intersecting for a short period of time. now, it will see your paths diverge again.

to paris it is.

a/n: maybe some foreshadowing but you didn’t hear it from me <3

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homedina · 2 years

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Dokotoo Women's Casual V Neck Tops Drawstring Short Sleeve T Shirt Blouses

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wh0relibrarian · 9 months

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sunshine

a/n: a continuation of this post, although altered to be a summer break instead of winter. completely got lost in that 😭 please excuse any informalities, i’m still getting used to writing in second person (or smut for that matter), and tumblrs post format! so don’t be mean ;(

context (if you don't want to read the previous post): Reader is visiting her hometown for the summer. A rising grad student who just so happens to bump into Sukuna at the airport. After quick introductions, he gives her his number in case she gets too lonely...

content ahead: southern sukuna au, black coded!reader, afab!reader, d referred to as dick bc i don’t like using “cock”, v referred to as cunt or pussy, age gap (reader in her early 20s, sukuna is in his early 30s), cowgirl, daddy kink, rough!sukuna (but he’s still a softie), needy!reader, clit stimulation, nicknames such as sweetheart, princess, baby/babydoll, creampie, ass/face slaps, lots of praise, a decent amount of plot

word count: 3.9k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You’ve been texting Sukuna for a week now. Off and on, trying not to seem too interested, but interested enough to keep his attention. It sucked that he was a man very obviously out of touch with technology, because you can’t find pictures of him anywhere. Not even a Facebook page. You’ve just been grasping at straws, trying to remember each detail of his face. Each tattoo. You didn’t even get enough time to admire the one’s on his face, way too engulfed in his general appearance.

And oh, Sukuna. That poor man. He knew from the moment he saw you that you’d keep him up at night. From the curvature of your lips— only being the opening act to the beautiful smile you had hidden beneath. He tries to remember what color your shirt was, but can only remember how plump your tits looked. Practically spilling out of a… tank top? Or maybe it was a crop top. You had a jacket on, which he knows was gray because you kept trying to wrap it around your waist like you were embarrassed by your body. He couldn’t figure out why, though. You’re beautiful from head to toe, every part of you.

But today, today was the day you’d ask him to take you out. Or just ask to go out in general. Hell, you’d take anything at this point.

You: Hiii Sukuna. How’s your wrist feeling? I know a couple days ago you said it was progressively getting worse, any updates?

Sukuna: Hey babydoll. I think it’s all good now. Nothin a lil icyhot can’t fix. How are you?

You: I’m happy to hear that :) and I’m okay, just bored, per usual.

Sukuna: Ya know I’m always around.

You: It’s funny you mention that… I was wondering if you were busy later today? Or tonight. Either or, whatever works best for you. If you would even want to do anything of course.

Sukuna: City girl finally ready to get some sunshine?

You: Don’t make fun of me 😑

Sukuna: Oh I’d never do such a thing. Are you free right now? My lunch break’s comin up, could use the company.

You: Yes I am! I can be ready in 15, I’ll send my address.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You weren’t as nervous as you thought you’d be. You know you looked good, you felt good. You put on a casual outfit, just a pair of bell bottoms and some old t-shirt your mom left around. This wasn’t a date, and you didn’t want to scare him, so you treated it like a normal hang out with a friend.

He picked you up in an old pickup truck, run down from the years spent riding on dirt roads and an occasional swamp. (Things can get messy the further south you go.) It was normal where you’re from to have at least one beat up truck per household, so his car was not a problem. You were all smiles, nearly skipping your way to the passenger side. Sukuna rolled down the window and he too had a bright toothy smile plastered on his face. It almost looked malicious, but you overlooked it once you got in. Something about his presence had you in a trance, you couldn’t focus on anything else but him.

When you opened the door, he stretched his arm out to help you into the chair. You made it a point to act as if you were struggling to get in and shut the door, nerves suddenly keeping you from wanting to look him straight in the eye. “Damn sweetheart… just look at you,” he said while leaning his body back, taking a moment to take in your appearance. “Hiii Sukuna, you aren’t too bad yourself,” you said giggling.

“We’re just goin’ up to Milo’s, hope that’s luxury enough for ya.”

“You think I came dressed like this for somethin’ luxury?”

“Well if that ain’t luxury, I’d be curious to see what is.”

Smirking, Sukuna went back to putting his full focus on the road. The butterflies in your stomach had died down, finding his presence incredibly inviting and safe. You were looking out the window for a while, until his hand found yours which was resting on your thigh. You turn around to him surprised, only to see his eyes still trained on the road in front of him. His hand clasped yours and gripped it tight, and you found the silence warm, like a gentle hug you wanted to last forever.

The lunch date was sweet. You both ordered cheeseburgers, fries, and a large sweet tea; reveling in its taste since it had been some time since you had genuine sweet tea. He started asking you about your schooling, learning that you’re majoring in business and will soon start working on your master’s degree. This charmed him— you were both alike even if it was in different ways. You’ve always provided for your mother, and so has he. You won’t stop reaching new opportunities, and neither will he. As the date went on his attraction only grew deeper. Your physical appearance did not mean much to him, you were to die for, but right now he wanted to know every single thing about you and didn’t care about anything else.

But… this wasn’t to say he’s not a curious man.

When ordering the food, you took a step back to look at the entire menu. This caused your skin tight shirt to rise up ever so slightly, showing off your cute tummy and belly button piercing. You noticed him staring, and he was never one to lie.

“Sukuna, order some damn food and stop looking at me like that,” you slapped his large bicep jokingly, making that same smirk from earlier slowly grow on his face.

“Mmm, you hidin’ that accent from me girl. Soundin’ so pretty bossin’ me around.”

You could tell the cashier felt a bit awkward at this point, so you pushed Sukuna in front of you to get him to focus.

Even though he would have moments like those, you didn’t feel like he was objectifying you. It never became the focal point of your conversations. It seemed like he was genuinely interested in getting to know you and it made you feel so… different. Sure you were young, but you’d never experienced such a natural yet interesting conversation with a man. You were shocked by it, to say the least, and it only made you want him more.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

After that day, you two were basically inseparable. He made it a point to try and see you after work, and if there was a day where he couldn’t do it, he’d make it up to you x2 the next day. He immediately started spoiling you, whether it was food or sending you money for new makeup, it’s like he couldn't do enough for you. You were always beyond grateful, and would even tell him to tone it down a bit, but he’d always say, “Princesses deserve princess things.”

It’d been around four weeks of this, the dates would get more romantic, and his time with you only more cherished. Although the flirting continued to grow, he never made a move on you. You definitely didn’t want to be the one to initiate anything. Maybe there was a reason for him not wanting to get physical, but not even a kiss? It was killing you at this point, every night you spent just dreaming of what his pretty lips felt like on yours. Not being able to help your hands traveling down to your aching pussy. You were so horny it hurt, and nothing you did could satiate the feeling; knowing good and well that his fingers— let alone his dick could reach spots you didn’t even know were there. Your own fingers would suffice for now, but you would be leaving in just a few weeks, you needed to know what Ryomen Sukuna was like in bed.

So, the next time he picks you up, you make sure to look drop dead gorgeous (not like he didn’t think that about you regardless.)

A few days ago, he paid for your hair and nail appointments. Large knotless braids with curly pieces coming out of them, and the prettiest french tip set you’d ever got done. You told him you wanted everything to be a surprise, and that you were planning to get a new outfit as well AND that he didn’t have to send you money for that. But you know he did anyway. The plan for this night was a drive-in movie closer to the heart of the city rather than where you both resided. There was a wing place you loved, different shops, and the movie would be the last activity.

After picking up a new sundress, a black one with thin straps and a slit at the bottom, you felt confident enough that tonight would go well. You took a shower when you got home, lathered your skin with shea butter from head to toe, and put on all the gold jewelry you owned.

There’s no way he wouldn’t want to fuck you dumb.

As always, dinner with Sukuna was to die for. He was such a gentleman, making sure to pull your chair out for you, telling you to get whatever you wanted from the menu. “Don’t be scared sweetheart, want you nice ‘n full.”

You shopped for a little while after, well, it was really window shopping. You felt so bad that Sukuna was paying for everything, even though he always insisted. You decided to just point out all of the things you liked, kind of like a test— if he really liked you then he’d remember all these things for a future event.

The drive-in was dead. Which I guess isn’t too surprising, you can’t remember the last time someone talked about seeing a movie here. Nonetheless, this was your dream scenario. With basically no one to catch you guys, it was the perfect breeding ground (literally.) The movie was some rom-com looking thing in black and white which you begged to watch, only because you knew neither of you would want to pay attention. Once he grabbed some popcorn and soda from the concession stand, he pulled up in front of the big projection, claiming he needed to be as close as possible because of his eyesight. After a few minutes of pretending to be interested, you turned to him and finally broke the ice.

“‘Kuna, do you like me?” Sukuna couldn’t believe the question.

“Of course I like you baby, why else would I be here?”

“Well,” you started, “I don’t know…”

“Oh, you know.”

“I know you like me, it’s just like— we aren’t like… you know.”

“Gonna have to use your words sweetheart.”

You looked forward as you tried to find the best way to say this, you decided to just rip the bandaid off.

“We haven’t kissed! Or anything! You just hug me or wrap your arm around my waist, but we haven’t done nothin’ ‘kuna. And I’m not sayin’ that’s any indicator of how much you like me, I’m just sayin’ it’d be ni—”

You anticipated this kiss, not only because you did everything in your power to set it up, but you could feel Sukuna’s eyes latching onto the way your lips moved while talking. His lips were just as soft as you imagined, tasting like cherry carmex and popcorn. His hand found its way to the side of your face, cupping it gently until he moved it to tilt your chin up towards him. Your mouth opened a little from the change in angle, giving Sukuna’s tongue access to the warmth yours had to offer. He melted deeper into the kiss, and so did you, as it continued to get more sloppy and wet. You could tell he was eager, swirling and dancing on the tip of your tongue, sucking it harshly like he was trying to gather as much saliva as possible. Just to pull back and have it leak out of his mouth, dripping down both his and your chin. It was downright nasty the way your fluids were colliding, but it turned you on an unbelievable amount. Whining and groaning into him, rubbing your thighs together, lacking the correct amount of friction from wearing a dress instead of pants.

Your hand started traveling to his chest and lower, and he could tell you were really riled up at this point simply from the way you were tugging on his shirt. He pulled his lips off yours, making you reach out for him still since your eyes were closed. When you opened them, you were able to see the true mess you two caused. Sukuna was drooling, his heavy lidded eyes not daring to move from your frame. His hair was everywhere, and you couldn’t be happier with your hairstyle of choice.

“Fuck baby,” he said while rubbing on the sides of your stomach, “I really need you. I’ve been needin’ you. Yer just so damn sexy, of course I’ve been wantin’ to do stuff. Just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” He leaned in to kiss your cheek and up to the shell of your ear, “Never want you uncomfortable.”

And that sent you over, you cupped his face with both of your hands, kissing him hard. He growled from your sudden dominance, and with a few swift movements, pulled his seat back and slid you over the middle console and into his lap. Your dress hiked up to your thighs once you straddled him, allowing Sukuna to feel just how wet you were. With one hand on your face, and the other on your waist, he slowly made his way down to your cunt.

“So fuckin’ wet for me,” he whispered against your lips, making slow circles on your puffy clit. “This f’me? Say it’s for me babydoll.”

“It’s for you ‘kuna, it’s all for you. Please–” His fingers slid your panties to the side, revealing just how sticky you were for him. Your pussy was basically crying to be touched, and Sukuna was a gentleman, of course.

His mouth never left yours, left hand now resting behind your neck, while his other is furiously rubbing your bare clit. Your moans were being swallowed by Sukuna’s mouth, and when the pleasure finally got to be too much, you suddenly threw your head back with a yelp. Catching yourself immediately, you press your forehead into his.

“‘M sorry, fuck, ‘m sorry— it’s t-too much.”

“Don’t apologize princess, I love seein’ you act like this. So slutty.”

Your tits have barely been able to stay concealed in your already showy dress. They spilled out on their own from your sporadic movements, and once Sukuna could see one, he dropped everything to unveil the other and fondle them both. You kept grinding on his very hard dick, keeping up the rhythm he set up for you while he went to town on your boobs. Massaging them, pinching and flicking the nipples, mumbling things like “fuckin’ shit they’re so soft,” and “need to fuck you.” It wasn’t long before he popped one into his mouth, sucking on it, making it soo much more sensitive. You were squealing at this point, Sukuna looked up at you to see the tears forming at the corner of your eyes. With a ‘pop’ he brought his attention back to your beautiful face. Somehow fucked out just from dry humping. How cute, he thought to himself.

“Look at me, princess.” You struggled, but your eyes met his, still striving for your release. “‘M gonna fuck you, okay? Is that what you want?” You started nodding your head yes like a damn puppy.

“Need to hear you say it princess. Tell me you want it.”

“Wan’ it s-so bad baby, fuck me, I need you to fuck me.”

The thing about pick-up trucks is that there’s not really a backseat, which means you’d have to ride him right where you were. This wouldn’t have been a problem, until Sukuna quickly pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing probably the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. It was the fucking length that scared you. It wasn’t too thick, but girthy enough that it, plus his length, would have your legs shaking for days. He gave his dick slow strokes while you took off your dress, suddenly feeling embarrassed from being the only one naked. He could see you get self conscious by the way you try and hide yourself like the day he met you.

“Whatcha lookin’ at me like that for,” his eyes were still focused on yours while he prepared himself, licking his lips like he was genuinely going to eat you later.

“I can’t look at ya? You just look so damn good sweetheart. Can’t believe yer all mine.”

“You don’t have to gas me up now,” you said looking away.

“Nuh-uh,” he grabbed your cheeks and turned your face back to his, “I’ma always tell you how good you look. Don’t act so shy now baby.”

Your pussy clenched around nothing at his statement, still leaking from the previous foreplay. He pulled your forehead to his lips, kissing it tenderly, and when he let go of your face he asked you one last time if you were ready. You whisper out a shy yes and grab his dick cautiously, lining it up with your entrance as you slowly lower yourself onto it. You let out a sharp grasp as Sukuna rests his hands on the sides of your hips, trying to assist in any way he can. Once you’re close to bottoming out, he starts whispering praises.

“Doin’ so good babydoll.”

“Look at you takin’ me so well.

Every time he spoke your pussy would clench around him, making him hiss and choke back a whine. Once he was all the way inside you, you let out a breathe you didn’t realize you were holding. You raised your head to look at him instead of the way he was stretching you out. There’s that smirk again. One of his hands finds it’s way back to your clit, rubbing slow circles like before to help you relax. You were so tense but you tried to keep a level-headed face, even though it literally felt like you were being split in two.

You felt your walls get used to his size and shape, feeling them contort and mold into Sukuna’s cocksleeve. With that, you start riding him slowly, using his shoulders to stay balanced. You got the hang of it quickly and began picking up pace. He was still stimulating your clit, using his other hand to keep guiding your body up and down. It was clear that you were struggling to take him all in though, pausing every few seconds to catch your breathe or readjust yourself. And this would just not do for Sukuna.

He gripped and slapped your ass hard.

“Gotta do better than that baby.”

Smack

“C’mon sweetheart, put your fucking. back. into. it.”

Each emphasis on a word was coupled with a hard thrust and loud whines coming from the depths of your throat. The sounds you were both making at this point bounced around the truck. There wasn’t a moment of silence and you felt blissful. Lulling your tongue out just for Sukuna to catch between his teeth; moving his hand back to bully your clit, and using his free hand to grab your face and continue fucking his hips up into yours. He was growling obscenities into your ear, “Yeah baby, just like that keep fucking me like that.”

“Sukuna, please! Fuckfuckfuck I can’t,” you were bouncing on his dick beautifully, tits bouncing in unison and he truly believed you were unreal.

“Yes you can baby,” he gave your face light slaps, “keep those eyes open, keep lookin’ at me baby. Doin’ so good, I promise.” You were leaking like a faucet down his dick and balls, and with a certain thrust, you were sure he was hitting your cervix. The string of cries that came out of your mouth made him go faster, harder, knowing that he finally found the spot that makes you weak.

“Am I makin’ you feel good baby?”

“Mhmm, y-yesss, so so good.”

“Yes who?” Your eyes were crossing trying to look at him, confused at what he meant at first, but as his thrusts got rougher you knew exactly what he was getting at.

“Y-yes daddy, it feels so good.” You were slightly embarrassed by the things you were saying, the noises too. You felt so dirty, but in a good way. Searching for your release that was so close.

Sukuna was close too, but he didn’t want that to come before he made you gush all over his dick. When he found his way to your neck, kissing and biting and sucking on your precious skin, you were done.

“Fuck daddy right there!”

“Here sweetheart? You like this?”

“Yesyesyes don’t stop please don’t stop–” and with a cry you were creaming all over Sukuna’s dick. Your pussy clamped down on him so tight, he couldn’t help but look down at the beautiful mess you made all over his thighs. He kept fucking you through your orgasm, causing you to become incredibly overstimulated. Sukuna was getting close, you could tell by his relentless strokes, forgetting any type of consistent pace. His hands were on your hips now, pistoning up into you as your head rested gracefully on his shoulder.

“Mm babydoll gimme a kiss, c’mere.”

When your shaky lips met his, he was sent into overdrive.

“Fuck ‘m gonna cum. Fuck baby, where do you want it.”

Absolutely fucked out, you tried to come up with some sort of cohesive thought. “I-insi..de ‘kuna. In m-me.”

“You sure? Tell me you’re fuckin’ sure, yer milkin’ me baby.”

“I’m s-sure. Please please just cum inside me!”

“Oh, fuckkk…” Sukuna’s load filled your pussy to the brim, leaking out to coat the sides of his dick. He made you feel so full and warm. Finally stopping his thrusts, you hunch over his shoulder and he begins rubbing what feels like hearts on your back, humming into your ear how good you were for him, dick never leaving your pussy.

“Did such a good job princess. So fuckin’ good, are you an angel? Must be an angel, the way you dropped into my life like this.”

“Mmmm I’m your angel ‘kuna. I was made for you only.”

Although the moment was wholesome, your mind immediately flooded with the thought of you leaving in a few weeks.

How were you supposed to leave after this?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

hope you enjoyed ;) and let me know if i missed anything as far as my content ahead section goes!

tags: @aiyaaayei

#📕 my books #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x black reader #x black fem reader #jjk men #ryomen sukuna #jjk smut #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen #had so much fun with this #need more #but it took me a solid 24 hours #off and on #😭😭

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summerchick13 · 2 years

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My OOTD for January 4, 2023

working from home

earrings: ModCloth

bodysuit: Kate Kasin

skirt: Chicwish

ballet flats: Summit by White Mountain

#winter #preppy #casual #business casual #fashion #style #clothes #clothing #outfit #outfit of the day #ootd

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baronessvonglitter · 2 months

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if love be rough with you, be rough with love | chapter 15 | "mutually assured destruction"

Dave York x f!Reader

Word count: 5,707

Summary: A life-changing secret is unearthed, altering the directions of your life and Dave's.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, TW attempt at self-unaliving, angst, secrets revealed, gaslighting, talk of murder and paid assassination, obsessive!Dave, rough sex, hate sex, unprotected piv, revenge, if I missed anything please let me know!

Author's note: this turned into more than I initially thought, and took a lot out of me emotionally but I'm pleased with it and I hope you are too! Please do not read if you're not in a good headspace, there are very triggering scenarios in place for the sake of dramatic storytelling. For those battling real life demons, please click here for help 🫂

Series Masterlist

It's the day before you leave for London. A Friday.

Years from now you'll look back on this day and wonder how it started so normally, as if fate wasn't already hard at work against you.

You make breakfast for the family: pancakes, fresh fruit, scrambled eggs. The new au pair is coming on Monday and you want to do everything in your power to stay on the family's mind so that they'll want you back when you return from studying abroad, but in the back of your mind you know that won't be an issue.

Sneaking a glance at Dave at the table, you exchange a small, secret glance and a smile, but his eyes never leave you once you busy yourself with other tasks. You can feel his gaze on you, checking you out in your casual outfit of the day: jeans that show off your curves and a cropped long sleeve shirt that shows a sliver of midriff. You're going to miss choosing outfits that will keep you on his mind all day.

Later you get the girls bundled up for school, putting on their warm boots and winter coats. Alice has two different colored gloves on, Molly forgot her library book upstairs. Both girls want to wear their new scarves but they're fighting over the same one. You're already prepared, fixing the situations, showing Dave that you're maternal, giving him a glimpse of what your life together would look like.

You've already made plans to see each other over New Year's, see the sights together, make love in a different country. Honestly you don't think you'd be looking forward to London as much if there wasn't the promise of Dave joining you there, even if only for a little bit. You're learning to have your forever with him in a few stolen moments.

After running some last minute errands (Carol insisted that you spend this time on yourself and she could take care of anything extra) you have everything ready. You're packed, suitcases and passport on your bed.

Slipping into his home office, you dangle a thong around your finger, intending to leave it in his desk, a small memory of you, a promise of what's to come.

A drawer that's usually locked is left slightly open, teasing you, taunting you. You bite your lip. You've never been in Dave's office without him, and you recall what he'd told you:

"There are some other parts of my life, things I can't tell you yet. I know you'll understand when the time comes.."

You shake your head. It's just a drawer, you tell yourself. If Dave were here he'd call you a silly girl, then guide you away from his desk and press you to the wall, or the floor, or-

But you can't resist a peek.

And because of that your world changes.

The rest of your day is spent uncovering your lover's secrets, and the worst secret is saved for last.

In the back of the open drawer, tucked safely into a small black pouch: a class ring with your birthstone, and your gold baby bracelet, your name written in perfect cursive.

Dave returns after work, calling out to the house, knowing you're here somewhere because your car's here and Carol's isn't. It's too quiet. She probably has the girls with her.

"Sweetpea, you home?"

There's no answer, so he shrugs and heads to his office. intending on doing some work for awhile before bed. You'll show up eventually, looking for him, legs spread eagerly, mouth open voraciously, wearing some barely-there lingerie, tempting him while his family's out. He knows you by now, but that doesn't stop him from wanting you.

He knows something is wrong as soon as he sees his office door is cracked open. No one goes in there but him. He steps in to see his office has been searched. Papers are strewn on his desk, files scattered, drawers opened. He feels like he might have a heart attack.

There you are, in a chair in the corner of the room, watching him, waiting for him.

"You're a fucking murderer," you mutter in a half-sob, alerting him to your presence.

The moment those words leave your mouth you know it's a mistake. Dave approaches you, slowly and deliberately. You want to run for the door but you're not sure you can even move. Your heart feels like it will stop at any moment, if Dave doesn't stop it with his own hands.

In one swift movement he grabs you, forces you to the wall, his large hands pinning your shoulders. He's in a rage, seething with anger, hurt, and resentment. But he hides it well, towering over you. "What do you think you read, silly girl? You're not even completely sure what you saw," he motions behind him to his littered desk. "Do you want people to think you're crazy?"

The fear in your blood turns to outrage. You ignore his question and offer one of your own. "My father.. my own father?" Your voice wavers as you keep your cold gaze on him as you say your father's name for the first time in years. "Sound familiar? He should be. Five years ago you killed him."

There is the briefest flicker of surprise in Dave's eyes, soon replaced with approval, estimation even. "What makes you say that, sweetpea?" he asks, his voice honey-sweet.

Nausea threatens to make you keel over, but your righteous anger holds you through. "It was all over your fucking paperwork. And these," you say, opening your palm to show your jewelry he'd stolen that fateful night. He looks but makes no move to take them.

"For years the cops had us convinced it was a home invasion gone wrong.. but they were on your payroll, weren't they?"

"Where's your phone? Give it to me," he demands. When you don't oblige right away he grabs it from your back pocket, rifling through the photos section, checking to see what you've deleted, making sure you don't have anything incriminating waiting to be emailed.

So far he's in the clear and he tosses your phone to the chair.

"What are you going to do about it?" Dave asks, his voice low, cold, nearly a growl, and he looks at you as if you're a bug he's squashed under his shoe. "What are you going to do with the information you have? Because you can't tell anyone, do you understand that? Especially not the police. We both know they won't protect you." He soothes the effect of his words with a soft brush of his knuckles across your cheek. "If you try to spread this.. misinformation to anyone else, you'll disappear."

A shiver goes through you and you knock his hand away. "Why?? Why did you take him away from me? I needed him."

It's a new feeling for Dave. He's never had to deal with the fallout of his extracurricular activity.

"I was just doing my job," he answers, the catch-all phrase he never imagined he'd have to use. "But from everything you've told me about him, I rather think you'd be grateful to me, sweetpea."

You ignore this little quip, too angry to think of anything to say in this heated moment, when your brain is still swimming with mixed emotions. "He was just a name on your list? Is that what you're saying?" you ask coldly.

"Yes," he replies sharply. "He was not a person to me, okay? He was a target. He was a job."

His words are harsh, but they're the truth.

"Do you understand that? Do you understand now how I see people? How my world works? It's made up of people I am paid to kill. People who hire me to do the killing. People who betray others. It's not a game and it's certainly not personal." He takes a moment, looks squarely at you, measuring how you're taking this.

"Did you ever have any idea," you start slowly, "when you hired me to be your kids' nanny? Did you ever have any clue that I might have been his daughter? When you kissed me and fondled me and screwed me, did you ever wonder if maybe my last name was a coincidence?"

"Are you trying to make me feel guilty? If so, it's not working very well. I've learned how to separate myself from the job. Compartmentalization. It's the same thing I do when I'm fucking you and not thinking of my wife, or fucking my wife and not thinking of you. Do you understand that?"

Your hand flies across his face, landing a harsh slap, leaving a red mark that even you can feel the sting of.

His first instinct is anger, then there's a sudden flash of a smile across his face, lighting up his features as he soothes his cheek. "I have to admit, with that scrappy little attitude.. you're just like your father. Tenacious."

You're disgusted with yourself. You've given away your innocence to your father's murderer. You'd loved him and sinned with him, risking so much. You even wanted to marry him someday, in a stupid fantasy of yours that now just feels repugnant.

"Did he see you coming?" You whisper. "Or did you sneak up behind him like a coward when you killed him?"

Dave's smile fades. "I let him see me, and at that moment he knew he found his death," he recollects. "It's the most powerful feeling in the world.. watching the light fade in someone's eyes and knowing you're the cause of it. It's a little like playing god. It was no different with your father."

"And this information you have," he continues, "what exactly are you going to do with it? Because I refuse to have to kill you, sweetpea. It would hurt me too much to have to get rid of you for your curiosity. You opened up a Pandora's Box. Now what are you going to do with all the misery you've unleashed?"

You're calm. Your heartbeat is normal. Glancing out the window there's freshly fallen snow. Such a peaceful scene despite the awfulness playing out with you and the man you loved.

"Carol took the girls out to drive around and look at Christmas lights. They might be gone awhile."

You reach into your pocket and pull out a snub nose revolver, one you'd pilfered from Dave's desk earlier. You pull the hammer back and aim it at him. "I'm going to spare them having to hear their father die, a little gift I'm passing forward that you gave me years ago."

There's a flash of fear that flits across his face as you point the gun at him, which he quickly masks with cold indifference as he raises his hands in surrender, backing away slowly. "You had to have some idea.. all those nights waiting up for me, patching me up when I had a bloody lip or bruised knuckles? They're not always quick kills, sweetpea. Sometimes I have to use my fists."

You don't waver, still aiming the gun, the irony not lost on you that he'd been the one to teach you to shoot. The power you have over him right now is indescribable, with the agony of the revelation of Dave's shadow business lurking just beneath.

"You had to know," he repeats. "Yet you still decided to pursue me, to sleep with me, to fall in love with me." He stares you down as you continue to aim. "Now.. do you think you have it in you to kill me? Because revenge, my silly girl, is not really your style."

His words wound you. Yes, deep down you always knew. You just never put your father's death into the equation.

"You're right," you admit. "I'm not a killer like you. But I'm just as bad as you are."

Despair and guilt rack your body. There's no way out. You'd been prepared to shoot Dave, maybe even kill him as revenge for your dad, but in this moment you have a sudden change of heart.

"You don't have to worry about me telling anyone. I'll take it to my grave."

You aim the revolver at yourself, just under your chin, cold metal against soft, warm skin. "I still love you, Dave."

Click.

You open your eyes and fall to your knees, gasping as you drop the gun. It wasn't loaded. A blinding wave of relief and anguish courses through you as you begin to sob, your entire body shaking.

He walks to you, picking up the gun and opening the chamber. Empty. "Do you really think I'm stupid enough to have a loaded gun in my own home, sweetpea? I have children, for Christ's sake." He shakes his head, putting the gun away. "I thought you'd be more clever than that, especially after all I've taught you." He sighs, looking more disappointed than distressed over your attempt. While you're on the ground, hugging your knees to your chest, shivering, he quietly tidies up his desk, putting everything back where it belongs, all his secrets stored away. He locks the drawer with a definitive click.

"You do it," you weep as he kneels next to you, giving you a tissue. "You killed him, now kill me. It would be poetic." You meet his eyes, seeing nothing but coldness in them, knowing that was all there was this whole time. "There's nothing I want in this life anymore."

Dave hugs you, and despite the hatred you feel for him, despite the maelstrom of emotions you find yourself in, you cry on his shoulder as he kisses your hair.

When you've finally cried yourself out, he helps you to your feet. "I'm going to take you for a drive. We need to talk."

In your emotional state you go along with whatever he wants. You're like a zombie, your body functioning but your brain clouded with misery.

You both get in his car, but you don't bother to put your seat belt on.

"Do you trust me?" he asks as you head out on the road.

"That's a funny question," you say in monotone, turning your head to look at him. "I don't know if I do. I shouldn't."

"Here's the thing." He clears his throat, makes himself comfortable for the drive. "I think you do. I know you always have. You shouldn't but you did. You still do. You trusted me enough to be completely vulnerable before me. You trusted me when you slept with me, each and every time. You trusted me when you told me about your awful history with your father. Trust takes guts."

You groan as he speaks about your intimate times together, numerous times, scandalous situations. You'd given your body and your heart.. to a married man.. to your father's killer.

"That trust is gone," you tell him.

Dave sighs, continuing to drive. After almost forty-five minutes he pulls over to the side of the road. You're in the middle of nowhere, far from anyone or anything. He gets out and helps you out of the passenger seat. Taking a tentative look around you see barely lit forest on the roadside, lit by a scattered amount of street lights. The snow has stopped for now, and a chilling wind howls through the desolate night.

Together you walk into the darkness. You fully believe he's brought you here to kill you, to silence you from spilling his secrets. And you feel only the slightest anxiety at this thought.

He leads you up a small path, thick forest on either side of you. Eventually you arrive at the edge of a cliff. The wind roars in your ears.

"What are we doing here?" you shout. It's almost too dark to see him.

He removes his jacket and puts it on you, shivering in your same clothes from this morning, only a denim jacket over them. It's warm from his body heat and smells faintly of his cologne. "Tell me why we're out here," you insist.

Dave looks out over the cliff, seemingly lost in thought. You're not even sure he's heard your demand.

"Did you know your father well, sweetpea?" he finally asks. "Did you spend a lot of time with him?"

It's like a stab to the chest, feeling your dad's loss all over again. "I thought I knew him well enough.. I think he loved me in his own way."

"He was corrupt, sweetpea. He had dealings with men much worse than me, men who would've hurt you and your family if given half the chance. A rival gang paid us to take him out." Dave goes quiet, dipping into that memory, perhaps wishing he could reverse things so you wouldn't be here, in the cold, with him. "I'm not the monster that you think I am. I'm human just like you."

"No, you're not human. Taking lives for money makes you less than that." Tears sting at your eyes, the bitter wind making them cold on your cheeks. You saw how sweet Dave could be with his children, how he gave off the impression of a loving husband even though you knew that particular part wasn't true. He had hidden depths, just like your father. His love for you was conditional, just like your father's.

You need your heart to stay hardened against him.

"I loved my father,” you continue. "I saw bad in him, just as I told you. But that didn't mean I wanted him dead."

"We're all just animals," Dave insists. "And even animals kill each other."

"You're the only animal here, David." You remove his jacket from you, symbolizing how you're done with him, preferring the bitter cold to the warm lies he's trying to give you. He gives a surprised grunt as you shove the jacket against his chest. "I've seen enough and heard enough. I'm walking home."

"You asked if I recognized you the day you came to interview for the position.. truth is, I did."

You turn at his revelation, stopping in your tracks but coming no closer to him.

He continues, "My team and I searched room to room, pilfering a few valuables to make it look like a real break-in. The last bedroom at the end of the hall was cracked open, with a pink light spilling through. When I walked in I could still smell your perfume in the air, something sweet like the kind a girl your age would wear. The clothes you tried on and discarded were strewn on your floral bedspread."

Now he has your attention, now he has you rapt, and as he describes that night you recall your room in that house, the perfume and the bedspread he's mentioned.

"I looked around, took my time, even though I was supposed to be quick," Dave admits. "I looked at the photos you kept by your bedside, removed the silk scarf draped over your lamp - that's a fire hazard, you silly girl." He smirks at you a moment, something akin to mirth in his dark eyes. "I saw the awards on your dresser, the photographs.. a little girl in a ballerina costume, that same girl growing up, attending summer camp, learning archery, and becoming a young woman, attending homecoming dances and learning how to drive.. I saw a piece of your life, sweetpea. And I was entranced."

Your mouth has gone dry. You know every one of those photos, have them collected safely in an album in storage somewhere.

"I didn't know your name, but the moment you came through my door, almost a thousand miles from your home, I was in awe. It had to be fate. You'd come to me, and despite my initial misgivings about having you so close, the possibility of you knowing how we were tied together was so minimal yet held such huge risk. There were times when I was sure you'd call me out for it, maybe blackmail me, so I kept my distance at first. But you were so obvious, sweetpea. You wear your heart on your sleeve, do you know that? It's adorable, especially that look you're wearing now."

You back away, forcing your body to move.

"That beautiful young woman with the pink room and cotton candy perfume ended up finding me, choosing me. I think all this time she's been looking for a replacement for her dead daddy."

"Stop," you beg. It sounds loud in your ears but comes out quietly from your lips.

"I love you," he says in earnest. "I don't care if the world burns. Everything is just a distraction if I can't have you."

A deep breath. "You should have pushed me over that cliff when you had the chance."

"I'm not going to hurt you," he approaches you with a calm demeanor. "I know I threatened to kill you, but that was said in anger. Don't you know how much you mean to me? Frankly I'm hurt by the fact you're even thinking I'd harm you."

You look at him squarely. "Oh, you're hurt?? Why don't we make it even and I take your family away from you?"

"You wouldn't." He holds you in his grasp, looking down on you with a smug expression.

"It would make us even, Dave." With a dark look in your eyes you run your hands along his chest. "I always thought you appreciated symmetry."

His countenance warms, his embrace loosened by your coquetry. "It's fucked up, but I can't help wanting you one last time," he says.

"You're right. It's fucked up."

"Let me take you to that hotel you like so much," he insists. "A proper sendoff before you leave the country. Because nothing is going to stop us, right? We can get past this little obstacle. It's just a tiny hurdle in our relationship."

Your lips curve into a smile as your blood boils. "That expensive hotel we went to, our very first night together? I don't think that's quite the aesthetic we're going for. Take me to the cheapest fucking place that's closest to us."

The motel room is small, smells faintly of cigarette smoke and cleaning product. But it has a bed, and that's all that counts.

Dave starts to unbuckle his belt and you watch, leaning against the dresser. "Remember that first night, when I bled? You told me it was rare to happen in this day and age. But it makes sense now. You shed my father's blood when you murdered him, and you shed mine when you took my innocence."

He's naked, waiting for you to also take off your clothes. "Did you regret giving yourself to me?" He pauses. "Do you hate me?"

"I'm not going to tell you," you smirk without any levity. "Isn't it more exciting to sleep with someone when you don't know how they feel about you?" However, seeing him sans clothing, a near rarity in your relationship, does something to you. You're lucky to be female and hide your arousal for the most part. You back Dave to the bed, making sure he's watching as you take off your clothes too.

His eyes are glued to you, cock already hard at the sight of your nakedness. You press him down to the bed, straddling his lap as you take him into you. Even you can't hide your need for him, the gasp of surprise as he fills you up completely.

You use him, that's the best way to put it. You care little for his kiss or his touch. You're simply taking your pleasure from him, riding him hard, the way he likes it, holding him so close you nearly smother him.

Yes, you love him, but that love has been poisoned by the truth of what he's done. There's no love in your actions, but there are tears in your eyes as you ride him, as if you'd fuck him to death if you could.

He can feel your pain.. the pain of all those secrets revealed tonight, the pain of having to deal with a man like him. And he can feel your anger, because for you, right now, there is nothing but revenge.

You feel it as Dave make himself a blank slate to take the brute force that is the only thing you can offer in this moment, so that you can emotionally bleed out your suffering and anger onto him.

You're riding him hard, taking your pleasure in a vicious way. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you," you moan.

It's a sound of desperation and release, and in a strange way it makes him want you even more. For you, this is revenge, but for him it's pleasure. He grabs you by the waist as you move on top of him, your nails dragging down his back, leaving marks that will be hard to explain later on. Your first instinct is to brush his hands off you, but you're so close to coming, and in that moment you don't care what Dave has done, or who he will hurt in the future. You just need him, and your heart allows a little bit of his love to pierce your armor.

With his hands on your waist, he pushes up and rolls you over. You move with him, teeth tugging on his bottom lip, inflicting more violence in your lovemaking because now.. everything is different. On top, looking you in the eyes.. You might hate him, but right now he doesn't care.

"There it is, there's that anger," he mutters. "Just let it all out, sweetpea. I know what you're feeling right now. I know exactly who I am and what I can be." He takes charge again, showing you that you're not the only one with anger inside of you. He enjoys the violence you're bringing to the bed, the violence that he deserves.

It's as if you're ready for his aggression, happy that he's fighting back. You're turning that pain to pleasure because otherwise the pain will disintegrate you.

You're still cursing him: "Bastard!" "Son of a bitch!" Meanwhile your body holds his close, accepting every forceful movement.

His eyes remain locked on yours the entire time. He doesn't let you escape his gaze. He wants you to see him, because now you can't hate him without hating yourself.

He's hurting you and you're enjoying it, just as it's always been. He kisses you forcefully, moving against you, as if you can't wait for the other to break.

Your bodies crash together savagely, both of you trading your pain and anguish. You dig your fingernails down his back once more as the first sweet, fluttery feelings give way to a strong, hedonistic wave of pleasure that threatens to engulf you. There's no holding back or hiding from it. All you can do is burn within it, let your climax conquer your senses as your cunt grips him more tightly than ever before.

Dave's eyes go wide and he lets out a small groan. He feels your grief and anger, and he loves it. He holds you close as you come together, holding you close as if he never wants to let go. You feel complete when he comes, the way he pushes deep and hard against you, as if imprinting himself in you.

Afterwards, you just want to sleep. All your emotions have come to a head and you're weak from feeling them. You feel like a shell of a person.

Still, he doesn't let you go. He lays on top of you, breathing hard, sweaty from the physical exertion, trying to catch his breath.

He knows that once this night is over he'll go back to being a monster, and you'll always be the girl he betrayed in the worst way.

In this small moment you remain connected, feeling Dave's body against yours as you have so many times before. The ghost of a smile graces your lips as you look at him above you, brushing a small, sweaty strand of hair away from his forehead.

He looks down at you, filled with mixed emotions. He doesn't want to move, but he knows he has to. He climbs off you and lays next to you, watching you. The red motel sign glows into the window of your room, lighting the bed, covering your bodies in a warm scarlet glow.

"What were my father's last words?" you ask in the quietude of the moment.

"He asked for mercy," Dave answers. "He said he had a daughter who needed him. And that if I let him live, he would never cause trouble again."

You try to calm your breathing. "And then what did you do?"

A pause. "I shot him in the head." His voice is like a stone.

You look at him, this man you loved without shame, without guilt. "And how much money did you receive for killing him? What was his life worth?"

"Fifty thousand dollars."

You close your eyes. "Thank you for your honesty."

He doesn't know how to respond. He wants to defend himself, he wants to apologize, he wants to ask your forgiveness. But all he can say is: "I love you."

You turn to him in the half-darkness of the seedy motel room. "I know."

It's early when you wake, body sore, heart broken. You shower, washing away Dave's scent, his sweat, his seed, but somehow he's still under your skin.

He's fast asleep and you don't wake him.

Quietly you order a ride share service to pick you up. There's still work to do.

The next stop is the York household. The girls are still asleep this Saturday morning. Carol's home. For the last time you use your house key.

It's warm and quiet as you walk down the hallway, trying not to make too much noise. You pass by the collage of family pictures bedecking the walls: Carol and Dave on their honeymoon in Paris the girls' baby pictures, piano recitals, family vacations to Disneyland and the Grand Canyon, pictures of the life you wanted but never got.

Carol's at the table drinking coffee. "Good morning," she says brightly. "Aren't you going to miss your flight?"

"I have time." You smile back but it doesn't reach your eyes. "We need to talk."

"Sure," she says agreeably, checking her phone before putting it down, likely waiting to hear back from her husband, who hasn't come home all night.

There were times when you avoided the truth because it would get you into trouble, but now you just want the truth to set you free. "There's something you should know about your husband."

Carol's eyes are wide, already imagining the worst. Trouble at work? Gambling debts? Did he force himself on you? "What is it?" she asks softly as her nerves jangle.

You take a quick look around at the place you've called home for awhile now. When your gaze lands back on Carol's, it's impossible to keep a smirk off your face.

"Dave and I have been having an affair. We've been sleeping together for the past few months."

There's a blankness in Carol's eyes, as if she's processing the information but it's not sticking. What you've said is so sudden that she can't fully believe it yet. "You're kidding," she whispers. "You're just kidding.. right?"

You shake your head. "No.. I can tell you about the birthmark on his upper right thigh, his bondage kink, and he makes this cute little sound right before he cums, like a tiny squeak or whimper."

You feel powerful telling Carol this. "We've fucked in almost every room in this house, including your bed, just last week."

Carol's body goes limp as she assaulted by the onslaught you've unleashed. The words are too much to bear. "You're lying.."

To add insult to injury you continue: "And it's not just about sex. He loves me."

You reach into your purse and pull out your phone, pressing a few buttons and sending Carol an email. "Here's further proof. You can watch it if you want, or don't. I don't care. The tape was my idea, and Dave was more than happy to oblige."

With shaky hands Carol opens the email on her phone, clicks on the video attachment.

What she sees breaks her heart like nothing ever has before. It's not just her husband cheating on her, it's the two of you sharing intimacy, bodies locked together in a passion she had no idea you'd felt for each other.

Now she knows you're not lying, and she can't bear the thought of all the love she's given Dave being betrayed like this. She looks at you with tears in her eyes, her body shaking as she tries to pull herself together. She refuses to be the weak wife who bawls over her husband's misconduct, who eats her own bitter, broken heart in front of the godforsaken Other Woman.

"Why?" she simply asks.

"Why?" you repeat. "Because sometimes, Carol, people come into our lives just to ruin it, to change it irreparably." In saying that, you're thinking of your father, a bullet through his brain, Dave on the other side, holding the smoking gun.

Upstairs you grab your luggage, coming down to see that Carol is still crying, still watching the video, the sounds of your wicked moans and Dave's sultry praise audible through her phone.

"A word to the wise," you leave her with parting words. "I'm not the first one Dave's cheated on you with. Odds are I won't be the last."

You leave your house key on the table in the front hall. On your way outside in the crisp morning air you feel inexplicably lighter. Grabbing your phone you text Dave one last time:

Mutally assured destruction 🖤

Getting back into your Lyft you glance back at the house and see the girls there, Alice and Molly, their faces pressed to the window like car window cling toys. You don't wave to them, even when they're trying to get your attention. You can't save them anymore than they can save you.

He destroyed your family, and now you're returning the favor.

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