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sttoru · 4 months

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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. thinking about true form!sukuna having a huge size kink (+ corruption kink).

word count. 2.6k

note. super self-indulgent. cant rlly blame me for creating this. also do you see those big ass hands in the header i used? yeah.. says enough (this sucks ass)

tags. dom heian era!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut. porn with plot. size kink / size difference (reader gets referred to as ‘short’ & ‘small’). p in v -> unprotected. degradation. corruption kink (reader gets referred to as ‘naive’, 'shy' & innocent’-looking). tummy bulging. loss of virginity mention. hymen breaking mention. cervix fucking, ouch. lots of teasing. tiny bit of choking. tiny mention of blood tasting ? idk. hint at anal / double penetration. dirty talk. sukuna has two of everything btw mehehe. reader get called ‘woman, brat, slut, little'.

sukuna is intrigued by you. he’s always been, since the moment he’s laid his eyes upon you. your loyalty and devotion to him are two aspects that the king of curses likes most about you. .

. . after your innocence.

it nearly irked him. every time he saw you hanging around the estate without a single care in the world. sukuna would attempt to intimidate you with serious threats. he’d loom over your short stature and look down at you with a malicious glint in his eyes. though, none of it seemed to work.

you'd only bow your head at him and apologise if you’ve caused him any possible inconveniences. it annoyed the sorcerer. you weren’t trembling in fear like all the others would — it was like there was nothing going on in that head of yours. especially when you smile at him. which no one actually dares to do.

sukuna could crush you. with no effort. one big hand would be enough to pick your entire body up, lift you in the air and throw you around like a ragdoll. you don’t seem to fear the possibility of that happening, even when being faced with a pissed off sukuna.

it’s truly intriguing and amusing. that’s why sukuna kept you around every day — as a form of entertainment, he called it. one thing led to the other and you eventually ended up as one of his concubines. the king of curses himself decided to grant you that promotion.

why? because not only does your fragile body, reserved and polite personality and innocence secretly fascinate him — it also makes him crave you. crave to shatter that naivety of yours. to take that small body of yours and make it feel what it means to be overpowered by a man twice your size.

sukuna does not regret his decision to make you his concubine. the first night you spent together was one of the best nights he had ever had. in all his many years of living. not a single woman had ever succeeded in blowing his mind when it came to sex.

it was usually boring and repetitive for the sorcerer. he felt nothing for those women he’s had in bed before — it was solely for the fact of satisfying himself. though, that changed on the day you had given him your virginity.

he remembers every detail; from your little noises of both pain and pleasure, your tight and untouched pussy that bled faintly when the fat tip of his lower cock pushed through, your nails that dug into his arms and back, your thighs that he held to your chest, his large hands that could easily wrap around the fat of them, your aching cunt that was left spasming around air as it tried to keep his sticky cum stored in place.

sukuna didn’t think your tears would affect him as much. when he took your virginity and you whimpered in pain — he did feel a twinge of guilt. it was strange; he hadn’t felt that emotion before. he had stopped and wiped your tears away. roughly whispered some words of encouragement too.

he had never done so before. never. he had never told anyone how ‘good’ they were for him. how he’d be ‘careful’ to not make it hurt any more. the king of curses recalls vividly how slow he started with you. slow sex. instead of rough like he’s used to.

sukuna wasn’t chasing after his own pleasure in that moment like he’d usually have. his main priority was to make sure the girl below him was comfortable enough to continue. you’re strange. the things you make him do, say and feel are strange. and yet. . .

it was an amazing night. the best. however sukuna was left behind with an insatiable hunger for you. more, more, more. he can’t grasp it yet; why he longs for you. for those feelings he’s suddenly capable of experiencing during intimate moments.

it’s why he calls for you every night. no other concubine was needed after you were made one. the king of curses couldn’t care less about those other women. they are boring to him.

unlike you. the one he’s sure that he won’t ever get bored of.

“you can take me so well now,” sukuna breathes out. one of his cocks was inches deep inside you, bulbous tip painfully hitting your cervix. over the past few weeks, your body had learnt to adjust to him, your pussy molded to fit the shape of his dick.

sukuna looks down at you and his cocks twitch with the urge to release already. his heavy balls clenching. your fucked out state is adorable. you seemed so.. vulnerable underneath the big man, “what a fragile little thing.”

it almost sounded condescending. degrading. especially with sukuna’s lips being curled up into a mean grin, his sharp canines showing. there was a puddle of your cum forming underneath your hips — staining the sheets that the poor servants have to clean by tomorrow morning.

“p-please, fngh, ‘s too big,” you sputter out. no matter how many times you took sukuna in, your smaller body couldn’t quite fully accommodate to the girth of him. every time he hits your deepest parts, you let out a painful whimper.

sukuna kisses his teeth, though slows his thrusts a bit. the wet sounds of his cum and yours getting pushed in and out of your cunt with each move was too addicting. what sukuna loves most is the view of the skin of your lower abdomen swelling and stretching each time he pushes forward.

“i thought you said you’d take both of my cocks today, yet it seems like you can’t even handle one,” the king of curses sighs whilst belittling you. one set of hands is holding you down by your hips, the other set is fondling your stiff nipples and circling your sensitive clit, “what a pity. a real pity.”

you almost choke on your spit as all your sensitive spots were being fondled. sukuna’s thick fingers leave no place untouched as he increases the tempo again—his cock plunging in and out of your stretched hole. the upper one was twitching, rubbing against your clit and lower abdomen.

sukuna harshly grabs your jaw and makes you look up at him after he hears you apologise for making empty promises. he seems satisfied with you staying so polite. even when he’s practically rearranging your guts. the way you talk through your soft sobs and cries is endearing. makes him grin wickedly.

“i don’t want to break my favourite little concubine yet, you see,” sukuna continues. he lets out a grunt of pleasure when your pussy clenches around his thick cock. no matter how many times he fucks you dumb, you still remain as tight as the first time.

he takes in a deep breath. he’s trying his best not to pound you into the mattress. he’d fold you in half and probably break you like the fragile thing you are. he could snap you like a twig if he wasn’t careful, “. . .but you’re making it very difficult for me.”

you respond by apologising again. oh, how cute it was to see you babble and make up excuses. sukuna grits his teeth, jaw clenching as he resists the urge to go harder on you. you’re already squirming and moaning loudly just because he’s fucking you hard and deep—bruising your cervix and forcing your walls to open up to him.

“‘m sorry, wanna take both.” you hiccup and sniffle. tears ran down your cheeks from overstimulation. it felt so good yet so painful to be taken by the person you admire most. you didn’t want to displease him, so you uttered those hopeless yet needy sentences again.

sukuna stops his movements when you weakly ask him to use both of his cocks on you. he scoffs, not knowing where you gained the confidence from. he pulls out of your dripping cunt, leaving a trail of cum connecting both your genitalia.

“‘wanna take both,’ she says,” sukuna mocks you under his breath. it’s getting worse; he’s nearing the point of no return. especially with your desperate whines that were like music to his ears, “you’ll break, woman.”

two of his hands move to stroke along his lengths, smearing the mixture of body fluids all over them. his eyes glare down at your small form—already fucked out, yet aching to continue. needing the full experience for once.

you always turn from a shy girl to a complete slut whenever he has you in bed. sukuna loves it.

“i want to try at the very least,” you mutter. it’s true that you’re exhausted. you’re catching your breath now that you got the chance, tired eyes glancing up at sukuna’s enormous stature between your legs, his defined muscles and the tattoos on them glistening under the faint light of the oil lamp.

it got your pussy throbbing and clamping down around air. you felt a bit light headed and your head lolls back against the pillow, eyes glazed over as you try to seem determined. but your body was tired.

“yeah? how. . . cute,” sukuna grins. he knows you can’t. not today at least. he doesn’t mind if you aren’t capable of taking him fully since you’ve already pleased him well enough for now. though, he still can’t help but tease you—make it seem like he’s going to give you what you want, “all right. don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

your eyes widen and your fingers curl around the silky bedsheets beneath you in anticipation. your heart is pounding in your chest as you watch sukuna pump his two cocks a bit faster, squeezing the base a bit, leaking some pre.

it’s all just for show.

“i’m not stopping. even if you scream.” the king of curses warns you with a dangerous glint in his eyes. you gulp at the terrifying aura sukuna was emitting. one of his tips teases your entrance whilst the other probes and circles around your anus.

he threatens you again, testing if you’ll back down, “last chance. i’m not pulling out once i’m in, do y’hear me?”

you keep being stubborn until the very last second. sukuna’s deep voice that shook you to your core was not enough to make you change your mind. you were so desperate to fulfill his every need and make sure that he was satisfied. it made you the perfect woman in his eyes.

the king of curses is completely amused. he decides to take it up a notch. he pushes his lower cock against the tight ring of muscles, pressing and nearly allowing the tip to move in. the sudden increase in pressure is torturous. you surely wouldn’t be able to withstand the entire thing.

“w-wait!” you squeal in surprise and pain. the sting you felt made you snap back into reality. it’s when you realised that maybe you needed more time and experience to take both of sukuna’s dicks. you squirm your hips away, “can’t. i can’t.. hurts too much.”

sukuna nearly rolls his eyes once you finally give in. he shakes his head with a sigh, feigning disapproval and annoyance. he pulls his entire body away from yours—a ominous shadow casted over his eyes. it makes you think that he’s pissed off at you; for being unable to please him.

you panic a little. even if you are sure sukuna wouldn’t ever hurt you. you know he favours you over the other concubines. you don’t want to lose that position.

“i’m sorry.” you apologise before the sorcerer could say anything. he lets out a sharp breath, rough hands back on your body, kneading your flesh gently yet firmly. his eyes take in the view of you trembling.

it’s unreal. you are half his size—completely vulnerable underneath him. he’d normally call people like you weak and useless. wouldn’t feel a thing for them. but your naked body below his is a sight he wishes to see every night.

it turns sukuna on so much. the fact that you are helpless and don’t complain when you’re struggling to take one of his cocks gets him going each time.

“tsk. what’d i tell you?” sukuna grumbles. he slaps his lower cock firmly against your clit. your body responds by closing your thighs together, though the king of curses pries them apart again, “stop overestimating yourself, brat.”

he isn’t actually mad. it was expected—of course you couldn’t take both at once. he didn’t even prep your other hole enough. plus you are clearly still exhausted from the previous rounds. sukuna just likes to. . . test and take advantage of your devotion to him. your obedience and desires to please him.

it’s fascinating to see you squirm and apologise in that whiny voice of yours. it makes him grin from ear to ear. and it keeps things fun.

before you could mutter excuses again, sukuna stops you by leaning in. just when you thought you’d finally get to kiss him, he goes to bite down on your bottom lip. a moan slips out of your mouth which only spurs him on to bite down harder.

you could feel the devilish smirk on sukuna against your lip. his wet tongue cleans up the tiny drop of blood that escaped the wound. he lets out a low hum in approval at the taste. delicious as always.

“now, how should i punish my little concubine for being unable to keep her word?” sukuna whispers in a serious tone. it sends shivers down your spine, his hot breath traveling from your jaw to your right ear. he slowly licks your earlobe, “what do you say? any ideas?”

the tension in the room was palpable. your heart was stammering in your throat from the proximity between the two of you. you gather the courage to answer as sukuna’s fingers curl around your neck, squeezing your throat as if forcing the answer out of you.

“i-i’ll do anything, sir.” you reply through a shaky breath. the king of curses pulls back after he’s got a response from you. your eyes meet his and that’s when you know that you’ve either greatly pleased him or have given him the chance to go all out on you.

it’s probably both.

“anything, you say?” sukuna repeats slowly. without a warning, he effortlessly flips you over on your stomach, a set of hands pulling your ass up by your hips whilst the other set holds your upper body down on the mattress.

a harsh grip on the back of your head results into you whimpering. your face was mushed into a pillow, almost leaving no place to breathe. your back is placed in the perfect arch with your plump ass facing up. it’s one of sukuna’s favourite positions to do with you — especially because it makes you seem smaller than you already are.

“heh. i’ll make you regret saying that.” sukuna chuckles. a low, evil and wicked chuckle. that’s enough to make you realise that he was not going easy on you. your submission had greatly impressed the king of curses and he's taking advantage of it. again.

what would come next could be a reward for that said submission. he’s going to fuck your brains out and make you forget about everything else except for his dick. a night you won’t ever forget as long as you live—that’s a possibility.

or perhaps you’re going to be crying and begging him to go easy on you. a punishment for not being able to keep your promise. that could also happen.

anyway, you’re about to find out which one it is.

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut #jjk x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #female reader

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seungkwansphd · 1 year

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to boil a frog

pairing: seungcheol x reader wordcount: 15.6k summary: you & cheol go back, like way back. growing up together, you never felt anything more for him than a proximity based fondness, but things are a little different since you moved back to town. genre/themes: tattoo artist!coups, childhood acquaintances to lovers. brother’s best friend (but it’s not so much a theme as it is just a statement of fact). S L O W B U R N. idk that this is even fluff but more like just romance? mention of alcohol, tattoos, needles...cat?

a/n: truly idk what this is and why. it’s so long & self indulgent, but i’m in my soft era i guess, hah!

“Hi, I’m here for my tattoo with Seungcheol?” you checked in with the unfairly stylish receptionist at the front desk of the tattoo and piercing studio. “I booked for 3pm.”

“Okay, yes, here you are!” they smiled up at you, “If you want to just take a seat, I’ll see how he’s doing with prepping the room.”

“Perfect!” you smiled before moving towards the waiting area.

Your foot bounced excitedly as you waited. In addition to being excited to get your first tattoo, you were doubly excited because you had history with Seungcheol. He’d been one of your brother’s closest friends growing up and despite not keeping in touch since they’d left for college, you’d really enjoyed following his artistic evolution on social media. You weren’t sure if he’d recognize you anymore, to be honest. It would be funnier if he didn’t.

“YN?” the receptionist returned, greeting you with a smile, “He’s ready if you’d like to follow me!”

“Sure!” you stood, “I love your dermals, by the way! The placement is so good,” you gushed as you followed them through a short hallway.

“Ah, thank you so much! They’re probably the piercing I worry about ripping out the most, but I do love them,” they chuckled before gesturing to an open door. “He’ll be right through here.”

“Awesome, thank you so much!” you grinned before stepping through.

“Hey,” Seungcheol greeted you after hearing your footsteps. His back was still turned to you as he finished wiping down his countertop. “YN, right? You know what’s funny, one of my friends has a sister who shares your exact name. Like last name and everything,” he chuckled before turning to greet you.

“Huh that’s weird,” you mirrored his laugh, trying to hide your curiosity as his eyes finally met yours. His eyes scanned your face for a few moments before he rolled his eyes and let out a loud laugh.

“Oh I’m a fuckin’ idiot,” he laughed, “What the hell are you doing here?” he leaned back in his chair, looking at you with slight disbelief.

“Mm, here to get a tattoo,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah no shit, but why are you home? I thought you were living that big city life now,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes at you again. You had always been a sarcastic scamp as a kid and it didn’t surprise him that this was still true.

“Oh did he not tell you?” you asked, referring to your brother. “I’m moving back. Well closer at least. I got a different job offer out here.”

“Oh no, I hadn’t heard,” Seungcheol shook his head, “To be honest, Jihun and I don’t talk all that much anymore. Not since he moved, at least.”

“Ah,” you nodded, “That makes sense. Time zones and whatnot.”

“But that’s cool! New job and I bet your parents will be glad you’ll be closer.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “They are verily psyched.”

“Well that’s dope! It’ll be good to have you around again,” Seungcheol laughed before shifting topics, “So this tattoo. Did you have something in mind? You’re my last appointment, so we can take some time drafting and working on things.”

“I was actually planning on just picking something from your available flash,” you confessed, “I’m a big fan of the latest set. But…,” you flashed him a cheesy grin, “If you’re offering, I’m not gonna turn down a custom design from you. And I expect a friends and family discount, of course.”

“You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” Seungcheol laughed heartily. You were making the same face you used to make at him in high school when you were in a bind and needed help.

“Not much,” you laughed, eyeing some of the designs up on the walls. “Honestly, I’m down for whatever,” you shrugged.

“How about this? Pick out a few of the flash designs that you like and we can weave something together. I think that’d be fun.”

“Deal,” you grinned, accepting the binder of flash sheets from him. Pursing your lips, you flipped through it in its entirety before going back to the beginning to point out the ones that had caught your eye.

Seungcheol couldn’t help but approve of the way you reviewed the designs in full before pointing out your favorites. You seemed to gravitate towards botanical, insect, and occultish designs which made sense, given how many times you’d attempted to cast spells on him and Jihun as children. More than a few times at sleepovers, they had woken up to find that rocks, leaves, and twigs had been strategically placed around them while they’d been sleeping. He couldn’t help but chuckle fondly as he recalled a specific incident where you’d snuck up on him to pluck out one of his hairs. When pressed on the issue, you’d calmly explained that you needed it for a spell to make him go bald.

“Okay, those are all the ones I like best,” you nodded at him, waiting for feedback.

“Alright, let me work something up. You can chill in here,” Seungcheol took the binder back from you, flipping between the designs you’d marked with sticky tabs and moving to draft up something new.

“How long’s it gonna take?” you made a face at him, “Can I go look at the piercing portfolios instead?” you asked, not really appealed by the idea of just sitting and waiting.

“I mean sure,” he shrugged, “Ask Wren for them,” he pointed back towards the reception area, “I’ll come get you when I’m ready.”

“Yay!” you popped up excitedly, clapping your hands together as you walked back towards reception.

“Hey Wren, can I take a peek at the piercers’ portfolios? And also can I ask you where you get your hair done? I’m moving back here soon, but I haven’t lived here in a while and could use a stylist rec.”

“Oh of course!” Wren smiled brightly at you, “So do you know Cheol from when you lived here before?” they asked as they pulled out the piercing portfolios to hand to you.

“Yea, we grew up together,” you nodded, flipping the binders open, “I wouldn’t say we were friends? But he was close friends with my brother so he was at our house a lot.”

“That makes a lot more sense,” Wren nodded with understanding, “I was wondering why he was so chatty with you! Usually his room is way more quiet.”

“Oh yeah, we go way back. A lot of shenanigans,” you grinned as a few septums caught your eye.

“So where do you live now?” Wren inquired after giving you the Instagram handle of their current stylist.

“I’m actually in the process of moving back! I got a job in the next town over, but I was thinking I’d move back around here since there’s more to do? This is actually mostly an apartment hunting trip.”

“Oh my goodness, well let’s be friends when you move back! I’ve been trying to get Cheol to come out and do things more with me and my partner, but he’s kind of introverted so he doesn’t bite all that often.”

“I don’t know that I’ll be able to convince him either,” you laughed, “We’re not exactly close. But I would love to be friends! I don’t know too many people who live here anymore.”

“Okay, deal! Let’s exchange phone numbers then. It’ll be good to hang out with someone less grumpy than Seungcheol,” Wren teased, eyes dancing at the man in question as he entered the reception area.

“So grumpy!” you giggled playfully at his expression, “I’m going to leave you a bad review for poor bedside manner,” you couldn’t help but tease him.

“You’d be grumpy too if you had two imps bothering you!” Seungcheol protested with a pout, before beckoning you with his hand, “Now come on, I’m done with my draft.”

“Okay,” you shrugged, following him back to his room.

“What do you think? It might be a little bigger than you had planned, but we can scale down if needed.”

“No, I love it!” you sighed, eyes sparkling as you looked at the design. The final draft was a staghorn beetle with a third eye on its thorax surrounded by a wreath of botanical work that included some of your favorite plants and flowers.

“I had a hard time deciding between a moth or the beetle,” Seungcheol mused, “But you were always a little…unique, so I went with the beetle.”

“Thanks, I think,” you narrowed your eyes at him, unsure if he was sassing you. “I’m a huge fan of this. I think you chose great. Now as far as placement, I am thinking thigh? Left thigh?”

“Do you wanna go this big?” Seungcheol asked. The tattoo artist in him thrilled the idea of the placement, but he wanted to make sure you weren’t overcommitting.

“I mean, I’ll be honest, that wasn’t what I had planned. But don’t you feel like…it deserves it?” you pulled up the leg of your shorts in the mirror to try and envision the placement and it just felt right. “I think at least let’s pop the stencil on so we can see it. But my gut says yeah.”

“Okay,” Seungcheol nodded. That was a good idea.

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah,” you nodded furiously at him after he had placed the stencil on. “She’s just gonna be a big bitch, I don’t know what to tell you, Seungcheol. It just feels right, right?”

“Yeah, I agree,” Seungcheol grinned at you, “We can do this in multiple sittings too, so don’t feel like it needs to all be done in one day.”

“I’ll let you know,” you smiled up at him, “Eee! I’m excited!”

“Alright skippy, let’s get you up on this table and we’ll get started,” Seungcheol patted the tattoo table. He made a few adjustments so that your thigh was positioned at a comfortable working height before getting started. “How’s that?” he asked above the buzzing of the tattoo gun.

“Not too bad, actually,” you were surprised to find out, “It’s just…buzzy?”

“Hah! I mean that’s good, okay I’ll keep going then,” he laughed, ducking his head back down to continue working.

The time passed surprisingly quickly. You and Seungcheol caught up on a variety of topics until you ran out of things to talk about. After that, he let you choose some music and you simply watched him work quietly. By your math, it had been around two years since you had last seen him and seven since you’d had an actual conversation with him. Somehow he looked both the same and different. He had always been sturdy, especially in the legs, but he seemed to have filled out more in the arms and shoulders in recent years. His face looked exactly the same, but his hair was now longer than you remembered it ever being in the past. It suited him.

“Doing okay?” he checked in as he worked on a section of shading. He had been going over the same area of skin for a while and was wondering how you were holding up.

“Yup,” you nodded. It was starting to get a bit sensitive, but you weren’t ready to tap out just yet. You focused on inhaling deeply through your nostrils and exhaling slowly through your mouth, which helped.

“Good girl,” he murmured approvingly as his left hand moved to grasp you at the knee, turning your inner thigh out to face him a bit more.

Your eyes flashed to him and your breathing pattern halted as you processed his words. With the soft praise, the somewhat breathy tone of his voice, and the pressure of his fingertips at your inner thigh, you found yourself shivering. Whether Seungcheol was aware of it or not, you found yourself deeply flustered by his praise and wildly confused at your reaction. Swallowing, you tried to gauge whether he even registered what he had just said, but he seemed to still be deeply absorbed in shading.

“Should we take a break?” he looked up suddenly, “You’re getting squirmy, it seems like.”

“I-, uh, yeah,” you did your best to act normal, “Yeah a break would be good, I think,” you managed to answer him.

“Okay,” Seungcheol stood up, “I could stand to stretch my legs anyways.”

“Sounds good,” you gave him a thumbs up as you raised your arms above your head to do some stretching yourself.

Seungcheol peeled off his gloves and turned to take a sip of water. His expression creased once his back was turned to you. Why the hell had he said that to you? It certainly hadn’t been on purpose, but as soon as it left his mouth, he’d wanted to wince. He could only hope that you hadn’t heard it or registered its weirdness.

“Do you need any water or a snack? We’ve been at it for a while,” he offered, pulling open a cabinet to reveal a handful of water bottles and a variety of snacks.

“I have water in my bag, if you don’t mind grabbing it for me? I would eat something though.”

“Should we order something? It’s getting to be around dinner time, I wouldn’t mind eating something proper,” he suggested as he handed you a granola bar.

“Oh yeah! Build in another break in a couple of hours, that sounds good. What’s good to eat around here nowadays?” you asked through a mouthful of granola.

“Tomato Pie is actually still open, if you feel like pizza,” Seungcheol chuckled as he scrolled through restaurants on his phone. “Otherwise it just depends on what you want?”

“I’m not feeling pizza. Let’s save TP for another time,” you shook your head, “What about sushi? Something light or fresh.”

“Oh sure! Um, how about this place?” he offered you his phone. You scanned the PDF menu before nodding.

“Yeah that looks good! I’ll do roll 37 in a combo.”

“Cool, I’ll have Wren order for us. They might want to eat too,” he nodded, stepping out of the room momentarily. Before too long, the sound of the tattoo gun was droning and you fell into an easy quiet with Seungcheol again.

“Please tell me more about Cheol as a kid,” Wren asked desperately as they swirled udon around their chopsticks.

“No,” Seungcheol grumbled.

“Of course!” you answered over him.

“Do y’all have a favorite memory together? Or a most distinct one?”

“Favorite?” your brows furrowed in concentration as you tried to think. “Like I said, he and I weren’t really friends? But, oh!” you clapped your hands together suddenly, “But this one stands out! It was the end of summer before Jihun and Seungcheol were leaving for college.”

“Please don’t tell this story,” Seungcheol buried his face into his hands, ears turning pink.

“Oh it’s cute though!” you argued, but you wouldn’t tell it without his consent. You waited a moment for him to lift his head again, eyebrows raising in a way that you knew to mean ‘go ahead’.

Eyes sparkling, you recalled the night before your brother and Seungcheol moved away for college. You had been nearly inconsolable as you and Jihun really had been close growing up and you simply couldn’t imagine finishing high school without them. He and Seungcheol had tried all manner of things to cheer you up, but nothing worked until they whipped out an emergency dance routine to your then-favorite boy band. They hadn’t really put all that much effort into learning it and mostly tripped over themselves, but it had done the trick and you’d laughed so hard that you cried. That was still an incredibly fond night for you.

“Oh and he was blonde then too! That was an era,” you wrinkled your nose as you finished telling the story.

“He can dance?” Wren looked at you incredulously.

“No, he can’t! But he tried, and that was what was important,” you chuckled heartily. “Honestly, Cheol was kind of just a good person. He was usually nice to me, but generally I just saw glimpses of him around.”

“You’re failing to mention all of the times that I bailed you out when Jihun was busy,” Seungcheol gave you a pointed glance.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you shook your head playfully at him. “He’s always been an old man like this.”

“He is responsible like that, isn’t he?” Wren nodded at you. “Our Studio Daddy.”

“Eugh yuck!” your skin crawled as you heard Wren refer to Seungcheol as Daddy. “No no no, don’t like that one bit!”

“You and me both,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes at both of you as he finished up his food. “You done? Let’s finish this bitch up. We’re getting close.”

“You good to lock up, boss?” Wren asked as they cleared their dishes.

“Yeah, you’re good! Just turn off the reception lights and lock the door when you leave. Don’t want any randos wandering in.”

“Sure!”

“So are you in charge?” you asked after Seungcheol had settled back into to finish up the last sections of shading on the beetle legs. Wren kept referring to him as ‘boss’, but you couldn’t tell if it was just good natured ribbing.

“Kind of. I hate being called boss, but I do own the studio now. The last owners were ready to retire and move, so they made me a good deal. I don’t feel like the owner yet, but I guess technically I am.”

“Wow, that’s…that’s really impressive, Seungcheol. I’m proud of you,” you smiled genuinely at him.

“This is weird, you’re never this serious,” he raised an eyebrow at you, a little uncomfortable to receive your genuine praise.

“I know, but I am serious!” you laughed, “I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ve been following you for a while. I’m proud of how you’ve developed your art form and now you even own the studio! I think that’s super dope.”

“Thanks,” he grinned, ducking his head down to hide his blush under the guise of inspecting his work. It wasn’t too much longer before he was finished and applying tattoo dressing. “So for aftercare. Everyone has their own opinion, but I like Saniderm. Keep this one on for 24 hours and remove and wash. If you want, you can apply another sheet. Try to wear loose clothing as much as you can, but life is life. You can always call if you feel like it looks weird, but basically treat it like a wound cause it is.”

“Cool, sounds good!” you gave him a thumbs up. “What’s the damage, boss?”

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes at you before working up a number that was on the low end of reasonable.

“That’s too low,” you decided, counting out bills until you reached a number that seemed more fair. “Dinner money’s in there too.”

“I-,” Seungcheol was slightly surprised. Not that he thought you’d be stingy, but because he was still accustomed to the you that begged rides off of him and never had gas money.

“I’ve had a big kid job for years now, don’t look so shocked,” you smiled at him, tucking your things back into your bag. “It was really good to see you, Coups. Maybe Wren and I can talk you into a night out sometime.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he half smiled at the old nickname as he waved you out the door. His lips curled into a full smile after the door swung shut. It had been good to see you.

…

“Hey boss?” Wren popped into Seungcheol’s office, trying to seem casual.

“I told you don’t call me that,” he looked up from his sketching. “What is it?”

“Do you have any strong friends that could help move some furniture this weekend? They will be paid.”

“You’ve never paid me to move furniture for you,” he narrowed his eyes at Wren, “Also didn’t you just move like a couple months ago? Why are you moving again?”

“Not me, YN. They just texted me. I guess the moving company cancelled at the last minute, so she’s scrambling for options.”

“Oh, shit. That sucks,” Seungcheol crossed his arms, brow furrowing at the situation. “I mean I could probably scrounge up a few friends.”

“Huh, okay!” Wren fixed their boss with an odd glance before plopping into the empty chair across from him. “Did you and YN ever date? Or like…have a thing?”

“What? No,” Seungcheol made a face of slight distaste at his receptionist. “That has never even crossed my mind until now. And I find it unpleasant.”

“Ugh, boo! Friends to lovers is the best trope,” Wren frowned, “I should’ve known you’d be a party pooper about this too. Oh well, I’ll let YN know that she can count on at least one of you meatheads to show up. I’ll get the address and stuff from her too!”

“Sounds good,” Seungcheol nodded, making a quick note on a scrap piece of paper to see whether Mingyu would be free and to exchange phone numbers with you so you could contact him directly.

…

“Hey Cheol?”

“Huh?” Seungcheol looked up from his desk. He had been very much in the zone, so the interruption had him slightly befuddled. “Oh, YN? What are you doing here?”

“Do you mind if I chill in the lobby and charge my phone? I didn’t see Wren, they must be doing something else, but I didn’t want to just be like a loiterer without someone knowing,” you huffed.

“Yeah, I mean, but you didn’t answer my question. Are you okay?” he asked. You didn’t look completely upended, but you were a little frazzled.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine! I just got lost and my phone battery died so I couldn’t pull up a map,” you grumbled, shuffling back to the waiting area and setting your bag down. You rifled through briefly to pull out a charging cable. “I decided to bus and walk home after work, since I’m still trying to get the layout of the city, but I got super lost. I slightly recognized this neighborhood from when I drove in for the tattoo. So here I am!” you gestured as if to say ‘ta-da’.

“Ah, I see,” Cheol couldn’t help but laugh as he took a seat next to you in the lobby. “How is work going?”

“Pretty good! I’m picking up the quirks of the software that they use, but for the most part, the job is very similar to my old one and I’ll be good at it. I like my coworkers too, which is always good.”

“Good,” he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“How was your day? Busy?”

“It was okay,” he shrugged, “No tattoos today, I have Wednesdays set aside for bookkeeping, paperwork, and other businessy activities. Not my favorite, but gotta do it.”

“And how’s that?” you grinned at him, “If I remember right, you weren’t the most mathematically inclined.”

“You remember correctly,” Seungcheol grimaced.

“If you ever want help with the bookkeeping stuff, let me know. I can build a mean spreadsheet,” you offered. Despite not having been close with him in years, you felt invested in his success.

“Really?” he cocked his head at you, surprised.

“Of course! We were friendly before, right? We can be friends for real this time,” you scrunched your nose playfully at him. “Plus I definitely owe you for sending me Mingyu and Chan. Lifesavers, those two.”

“Yeah, they’re alright,” Seungcheol chuckled. “I might take you up on that spreadsheet thing, cause doing the math by hand is strange and unusual punishment.”

“Sounds good, just text me,” you nodded, eyes lighting up when your phone had charged enough to power itself back on.

“YN!” Wren called your name excitedly as they returned to the reception desk. “Sorry, I was taking inventory. What are you doing here?”

Seungcheol returned to his office as you gave Wren the rundown of your unfortunate turn of events. You wanted to be friends this time around, huh? That could be alright.

…

“I’m starting to regret this whole ‘friends’ thing,” Seungcheol groaned as you dragged him towards the bar. The rest of the studio staff was already there, but he had taken his time closing up, hoping that Wren would’ve run out of patience and just left without him. In the past, this strategy had been successful, but that was before you were part of the equation. You had a longer attention span and just when Seungcheol thought he’d gotten away with it, you’d popped up at his side, asking him if he was ready to go.

“No take backs,” you teased, only releasing the grip on his sleeve after you’d pulled him full inside the establishment. “Wren! We’re here!”

“Finally! Did he do his usual thing of taking way too long?”

“Yes, you were right,” you laughed, hopping onto an empty barstool.

Cheol narrowed his eyes at you. While he had grown to be able to handle Wren’s brand of shenanigans, he wasn’t sure how to feel about your powers combined. He watched you chat excitedly with Vernon about lizards or something before deciding that he needed a beer.

“Anyone else need drinks?” he asked, glancing across the table.

“If you’re buying, then yes!” Hoshi jumped up excitedly and appeared at Seungcheol’s side.

“YN, what do you want?” Wren tapped on your shoulder gently as they moved to order with Cheol.

“Oh, whiskey soda with a cherry?”

“What?!” Wren’s eyebrows pinched together, “Miss girl, this is a dive bar. Can you please

order something normal?”

“Hah! Well then just get me a beer or something,” you shrugged, eager to get back to discussing the Galapagos marine iguana’s algae based diet with Vernon.

“What the hell are they even talking about?” Wren did a double take before their boss tugged them towards the bar.

“It’s better that you probably don’t ask,” he chuckled as he hailed the bartender.

“Hey what can I get you?”

Wren rattled off the group’s order before looking back at you. “Shit, and some sort of beer,” their brow furrowed as they scanned through the options.

“You got cherries back there?” Seungcheol cut through Wren’s thinking.

“Yeah,” the bartender fixed him with a surprised look.

“Okay, then a whiskey soda with a splash of sour and a cherry. Nix that beer.”

“Weird, but sure,” the bartender laughed, moving to fill the order.

“I don’t think she asked for sour?” Wren asked Seungcheol.

“She always forgets to say it. She won’t like it without it,” he shrugged with a wry smile.

Wren watched their boss out of the corner of their eye. In the few weeks of knowing you, Wren had done a little bit of poking and was surprised that you and Seungcheol both independently maintained that nothing had ever happened or even threatened to happen between you two. In fact, you both had such a surprised reaction that made it seem like neither of you had even entertained the possibility. Yet, small things like this happened every so often and would surprise Wren anew that things were just platonic between you two.

“You got it all?” the bartender asked again, watching Cheol and Wren haphazardly gather up the six drinks between them.

“I think we’re good,” Wren finally nodded, leading the way back to the table. “Okay, so…,” they trailed off as they doled out the drinks around the table.

“Oh! I thought I was getting beer?” you were surprised when you received your drink.

“They had cherries,” was all Seungcheol offered up in explanation.

“Oh, well thanks!” you beamed at him before taking a sip.

“So what was the name of that documentary again?” Vernon asked, drawing your attention back, “I might just leave now to watch it,” he mumbled to himself as he pulled out his phone to make a note.

“Oh come on,” you chided him, “We just got here! I’ll give you the name of the documentary at the end of the night, as incentive,” you suggested.

“That’ll work,” he grumbled slightly, slipping his phone into his pocket and turning his attention back to the group’s conversation. Hoshi was regaling the group theatrically about something or the other.

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow. He was surprised that you’d managed to convince Vernon to stay out. That was something that even he couldn’t pull off sometimes.

“So YN, are you liking your new job?” Hoshi asked after sharing his many personal thoughts and feelings about Tiger King.

“Yes!” you nodded, “I really like everyone at the practice! My trainer is super funny and nice and she said I’m basically ready to fly solo next week,” you grinned, a little nervous now that all eyes were on you.

“Remind me what you do again?” Joshua asked kindly. He was one of the piercers at the studio that you had probably spent the least amount of time with.

“I’m a vet tech! So, you know, helping with exams, running analyses, and giving vaccinations. That kind of thing.”

“Ah, so we have some things in common then,” Joshua quipped about the vaccinations.

“Hey if you’ve got a passion for stabbin’, might as well get paid for it,” you joked, prompting a chorus of laughs.

Eventually, the group broke off, some heading to the dance floor and others moving to play darts. You watched the game of darts until you were ready for a refill. As you waited for the bartender, you fished the cherry out from your melting ice cubes. It was the best part, after all.

“What’re you drinking there?” a voice to your right drew your attention.

“Hm,” you regarded the man with a suspicious glance, “I don’t think I'll tell you. You look like you’d tease me for it.”

“Oh? Well it’ll be tricky to buy you a drink, then,” he chuckled, a little taken aback by your response.

“I-,what?” you blurted out after processing his words.

“I’m Yejun,” he smiled at you, “Can I buy your next drink?”

“Hm, I suppose you can!” you chuckled. You observed his side profile as he flagged down the bartender. “So do you live here, Yejun?”

“I do,” he nodded, “Do you?”

“I do now,” you grinned, “I actually grew up around here and recently moved back for a job. Things are kind of the same, kind of different.”

“Oh really? How long has it been since you lived here? And what’s different?” he asked, smiling charmingly as he leaned against the bar, turning to face you fully.

Seungcheol watched intently as you chatted with this man. His brow furrowed slightly trying to gauge whether he needed to intervene. For a while, your expression was wary, but eventually you broke out into a teasing smile and he could tell that the attention was welcome. You were more than capable of holding your own, Cheol knew that, and so he returned to watching darts.

Wren was stumped as they watched Seungcheol watch you. For a moment he’d almost looked jealous, but that tension eventually dissipated and he returned to darts as if nothing had happened. When Wren looked at you again, you were happily chatting with a man at the bar, which was somehow even more confusing.

…

“Ah, I’m so glad you were free this weekend! You’ve been so wrapped up in Yejun that I feel like I barely see you anymore!” Wren tittered animatedly as they wrapped you up in a hug.

“Wren we hung out on Tuesday,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“Yes, and it’s been far too long between then and now. Speaking of, how are things going with Yejun? If he’s not treating you well, I will bring the boys to beat him up!” Wren threatened.

“There’s no need for that at all,” you shook your head vigorously, “Things are going good! I don’t know that I feel super…serious about him, but it’s been fun so far!”

“Hm. Well if you’d rather just date someone at the studio, I’d prefer that so I could see you all the time! I think Vernon is single, and you both love those damned lizards.”

“Hah! Iguanas,” you corrected them as you scanned down the list of cocktails. An aperol spritzer sounded good in the day’s warm weather. “No, I won’t date anyone at the studio. I don’t date friends, that’s a recipe for disaster.”

“You’re smarter than most,” Wren laughed. Couldn’t fault your logic.

“How are things with the boys? I feel like it’s been a bit since I’ve seen everyone. Anything interesting happen lately?”

“Oh, we might have a stray cat hanging around?” Wren clapped their hands together, “There’s a calico that showed up both yesterday and today.”

“Really? No collar or anything, I assume? Does it have a clipped ear? Is it friendly?”

“No, no, and yes,” Wren answered, “Should we do anything special for it?”

“Honestly, we should try and grab it so that we can take it to a vet to get it checked out. See if it’s microchipped. I can bring some stuff from the office and maybe let’s pick up some wet food after lunch? You can bring that to the studio.”

“Sounds good!” Wren nodded gamely. “Aside from that, nothing new at the studio. We’re a boring bunch these days.”

“You know honestly, that’s not a bad thing,” you smiled.

“We should go out for a happy hour sometime this week,” Wren suggested as your entrees arrived. “Maybe Thursday? You can bring Yejun!”

“Oh sure! Are we going to try and bring Seungcheol? Or not worth the fight?” you scrunched your nose up playfully.

“I mean, I always want the whole gang to be there. But might need your help again.”

“I can be on Coups duty,” you laughed, “It’s light work.”

“Alright, well if you’re in then I’m in,” Wren laughed. You did seem to have a way with Seungcheol that nobody else did.

The rest of lunch was filled with odds and ends of conversation before you and Wren walked to the supermarket to pick up a few cans of wet cat food. Wren headed back to the studio and you drove to the veterinary office to pick up some supplies. A humane trap, a cat carrier, and a kitty straightjacket accompanied you back to the tattoo studio.

“I’m here!” you announced as you brought the trap into the reception area.

“Um, what’s happening now?” Minghao, one of the other tattoo artists, looked on curiously as you fiddled with the gate of the humane trap.

“I told YN about our new friend! She’s going to help us trap it so we can take it to the vet.”

“Oh, I see,” Hao chuckled before returning to his room. Since you’d moved back home, you’d clearly established yourself as Wren’s new partner in crime. It was usually entertaining.

“Okay, I think I got it,” you nodded before grabbing a can of food and walking back outside to place the trap against the side of the building. You popped the can open and placed it at the back of the trap. “Now hopefully we catch the stray cat and not some other beastie,” you muttered to yourself as you walked back inside. Last time you’d set up a humane trap, you’d woken up to a livid raccoon instead of the stray you’d set out to capture.

“Hey Wren, can you order more of these supplies please?” Cheol dropped off a list at the receptionist desk, barely registering your presence. Between your help setting up his profit and loss statements and just general shenanigans with Wren, you’d become somewhat of a regular at the studio.

“Sir, yes sir!” Wren saluted playfully before waving you out the door. You had errands to run yet, but you let Wren know to call you if and when the stray showed back up.

…

“Oh my gosh, she is so so cute! I have named her Sausage Patty, we shall call her Patty and I love her very much,” you gushed over drinks. The studio had organized a staff outing again and Yejun had opted to join, so all of your people were in one place.

“You said this was a cat?” Yejun asked, “I thought your place didn’t allow pets?”

“It doesn’t,” you sighed, “But Cheol can keep her in until I can find a new place, right? It isn’t too terribly long before my lease is up,” you pleaded with him hopefully.

“Ah,” Yejun shifted uncomfortably, “I, um. We should talk later,” he ducked his head to whisper in your ear.

“Oh, okay?” you nodded at this ominous feeling request.

“So Yejun, tell us about yourself,” Wren prompted, eager to get to know the person you’d been dating. “YN has mentioned some things, but I’m nosy.”

Yejun chuckled good naturedly and shared his age, where he had lived before here, and that he worked as a financial advisor at the local bank.

“Oh interesting, do you enjoy that?” Joshua asked, eyes dancing.

Seungcheol fixed Joshua and Hoshi with a warning glance as Yejun answered Joshua’s query. He could tell that the boys did not find Yejun particularly interesting, but they didn’t have to in order to be nice. You were the one dating him, after all.

“It’s alright,” Yejun shrugged, not picking up on Shua’s teasing. “There are things that I like and things that I don’t, but that’s any job, isn’t it?”

“Sure is!” Hoshi chimed in mischievously, “For example, Seungcheol is the thing that I don’t like most about my job.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cheol laughed, “If this is where the conversation is going, then I’m going to grab a beer,” he announced. Joshua took the opportunity to join him at the bar.

“My god, our YN is dating a banker? Where did we go wrong, Cheol?” Joshua bemoaned jokingly as he leaned against the bar.

“Joshua,” Cheol warned him, the slightest edge audible in his voice. “Be nice.”

“He’s so dull,” Joshua pressed on, “She can do better.”

“That’s not our business,” Seungcheol shrugged as he accepted a fresh beer from the bartender. “If you can’t be nice, then I suggest you stay away. YN will take it personally if you tell her you don’t like him. Just leave it.”

“Fine,” Joshua ran his tongue over his teeth with displeasure, “A banker of all things. Please.”

“You remember when you dated that flight attendant, right? We all kept it to ourselves until things ended. YN is our friend now, so you can do her the same courtesy.”

“I wish you’d given me your honest feedback then. That was a major waste of my time,” Joshua bristled as he recalled that toxic relationship.

When they returned to the table they found that Hoshi had wandered off with Vernon to play darts and Wren was doing their best to hold the conversation with Yejun. There really wasn’t anything specifically wrong with Yejun, he just didn’t have much in common with any of them. Seungcheol briefly wondered what you two talked about, but it left his mind just as quickly.

“So what did you want to talk about earlier?” you asked Yejun hesitantly as he walked you to your door. There was a nip in the air and your cheeks were flushed pink as you looked up at him.

“Oh, yeah,” his expression filled with unease, “I guess I should let you know that I’m allergic to cats. It hadn’t really come up before, but it’s relevant now.”

“Oh,” your expression fell at this news. Somehow it was both a big deal and not a big deal. On the one hand, you were still in a very casual stage with Yejun and wouldn’t be able to live with Patty for a while even if you and Seungcheol did manage to work something out. But on the other hand, if this was a deal breaker, you wondered if you were just wasting your time. You loved animals and couldn’t envision a future without them. “Are you allergic to other animals too? Or just cats?”

“Mildly allergic to dogs, but my cat allergy is quite severe,” he answered apologetically.

“I see,” you nodded, “Well…I would say that since I’m still not sure I’ll be able to convince Seungcheol to keep Patty for me in the meantime and I’m at least five months out from being at the end of my lease, I’m not sure this needs to change anything between us? What do you think, though?”

“I agree,” Yejun smiled with a sense of relief.

“Great,” you grinned up at him. “Well, I’m home. Maybe we can do something next week?”

“That sounds great!” Yejun pulled you in for a quick peck before moving to drive himself home.

…

“Hello?” Seungcheol’s brows furrowed as he read the name on the incoming call. “YN? Are you okay?”

“Hey,” you sniffed, second guessing yourself. You briefly considered hanging up, but decided it would be helpful to have a sounding board. “Are you busy?”

“No, what’s up?” he shook his head, noting that you hadn’t answered his question.

“Can I swing by? I need some advice. Or maybe just to talk, I’m not sure,” you muttered, pressing your palm against your cheek.

“Yeah, of course,” Cheol nodded, “I’m home right now so come by whenever. Patty would like to see you too, I’m sure.”

“Okay, I’ll be over soon then,” you nodded forlornly before ending the call.

You second guessed yourself the entire way over. Maybe this wasn’t a big enough deal to bother Seungcheol about. Maybe you should’ve called Wren instead. But you knew that Wren would not be impartial and you knew, in your gut, that if it wasn’t a big enough deal to bother Cheol about, then you wouldn’t have called him. Before you knew it, you were parked in front of Seungcheol’s place and you weren’t about to drive right back home.

You walked up the steps and tried the doorknob. With all of the shared cat custody, he had gotten into the habit of leaving the front door unlocked when he knew you were on the way. Today was no different.

“I’m here,” you announced generally as you slipped off your shoes. Cheol appeared with a beer before you had gotten the second one off.

“You sounded like you needed a drink,” he smiled sympathetically at you.

“You know all about me nowadays, huh?” you laughed, taking the cold beverage from him.

“Little bit,” he grinned, “So what’s up?” he asked after you took a seat at his kitchen table. You gestured for him to sit down next to you before you answered.

“Yejun and I broke up…I guess? Is it even breaking up if you were just kind of dating?” you thought aloud. “Whatever you want to call it, we will no longer be a thing.”

“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that,” Seungcheol’s expression creased with worry. “Do you want to talk about what happened? Or what’s helpful?”

“I’m not too torn up about what happened,” you thought for a moment, trying to identify your feelings, “But I am sad. But I don’t feel like I should be sad because it wasn’t that serious? Also he was allergic to cats so was it gonna work out anyways?” you were surprised when you felt the tears pricking at your eyes. You had done such a good job of keeping it together all week, but now talking about it in such clarity really broke something free inside of you and suddenly you were crying.

Seungcheol froze. He had never seen you cry before and he was at a loss about what to do. He wanted to be supportive, but didn’t really know what that should look like for you. Did you want a hug? Did you hate hugs? It frustrated him deeply that he didn’t already know the answer.

“What would be helpful right now?” he found himself asking.

“It’s silly, but I could use a hug,” you sighed, almost rolling your eyes at yourself. You’d never really been one for physical affection, but the thought of being wrapped up in Cheol’s arms seemed comforting in a way that you needed desperately right now.

He moved immediately, standing over you with his arms outstretched. You stood up to fit yourself into him and his arms folded around you without thought. You were surprised at how natural it felt. You allowed yourself a few more sobs into his chest before letting yourself just feel warm and secure in his hold.

Seungcheol experienced the whole gamut of human emotion as he held you. Anger at Yejun for causing you to feel this way. Empathetic sadness. Relief when your crying stopped. And…pride at the feeling of being able to provide you comfort. It was very different and new to Seungcheol to see you in this emotionally vulnerable state, but not unpleasant by any measure.

“Okay, I feel better,” you chuckled sheepishly, pulling away from Cheol and wiping at your cheeks. “I should go home and get some sleep.”

“Okay,” he nodded at you, surprised at the instinct he felt to pull you back in.

“Thanks Cheol. Seriously.”

…

“I think I’m getting cold feet,” Seungcheol grimaced after seeing you mix up the bleach in a somewhat alarming way.

“No, no take backs!” you frowned, turning your foil-covered head towards him.

Several days ago, you had bought the largest containers of bleach powder and developer that they sold at the beauty supply store. You kept saying that you weren’t torn up over Yejun, but you figured why not allow yourself to partake in some of the traditional post-break up rituals? An entirely new haircut didn’t appeal to you, but adding some vivid color did seem fun. You weren’t totally sure how Seungcheol had caught wind of this undertaking, but when he’d thought out loud about going blonde again, Wren had been insistent. Whether it turned out looking good or his hair fell off, it didn’t matter too much to Wren. Both outcomes were equally pleasing.

“I-,” he grimaced, “If I end up having to buzz my head, you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Cheol, relax,” you tried to reassure him, “I have done this before. Now just sit still.”

Seungcheol sucked on his teeth before acquiescing and sitting down on the stool in front of you, allowing you to get started. You grinned happily as you ran your fingers through his hair, sectioning them off and applying the bleach to the foils. The way he enjoyed feeling your hands running through his hair was a little surprising to him, but soon he found himself just watching you and smiling at the way you smiled.

“Are you excited to be blonde again?” you asked around three quarters of the way through. “Was the last time in high school?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Cheol thought for a moment, “Didn’t you help me and Jihun that time too?”

“Probably? Like your guys’ senior year?”

“Yes,” he smiled, “That was a good look, if I do say so myself.”

“I agree,” you nodded as you grabbed a spare grocery bag to pop over his completely foiled head. “Okay, now we can let that process for 30 minutes. It should start to feel warm, mine kind of does already,” you touched your own foils gingerly.

“Okay, you wanna watch something while we wait?” he shrugged, flipping on the television.

“Sure,” you nodded, sitting down on the couch. You giggled happily when Patty hopped onto your lap and you scratched her under the chin.

“She loves you,” he chuckled, watching you interact with the cat.

“She loves you too!” you insisted, “Go see your dad,” you whispered at her playfully, which she ignored.

“No, she’s your cat and your cat alone. I’m just her landlord,” Seungcheol chuckled, unable to keep himself from thinking about the implication of ‘dad’.

“Okay, time to check!” you jumped up when the timer sounded. “Let me check mine first and then I’ll check yours,” you announced as you moved to the bathroom mirror.

“How’s it lookin’?” Cheol asked, leaning against the door jamb.

“I think a little longer, I’ll check again in fifteen. Now come here,” you beckoned him over. He moved to face you and spread his feet apart until you could see the top of his head. You peeled back a few foils and were surprised to see that it had lightened sufficiently. Lucky bastard. “I think you’re good to go, Seungcheol! You can rinse that bleach out and then I’ll tone you.”

“Word,” he nodded, helping you remove the rest of the foils and tuck them into garbage. You massaged your fingers through his hair, evaluating the rest of the strands before confirming he was ready to rinse. Without a word, he tugged his shirt up over his head before moving to grab the shower head.

“What are you doing?!” you almost shouted, alarmed by the shedding of clothes.

“I don’t want to get my shirt wet,” he shrugged, somehow pleased at the way you jumped.

“Let me get out of the bathroom first,” you grumbled, flushed in the cheeks as you made your way back into the living room.

“Okay, I’m done. You wanna check your foils again?” he emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his hair with a towel.

“Yes,” you nodded, trying to look anywhere but at him as he had not put the shirt back on.

After you had also rinsed the bleach out from your ends, you started mixing up toner and color. For a second time, you were applying and massaging solution into his hair.

“This feels nice,” Cheol remarked with his eyes closed, enjoying your touch.

“Does it?” your eyebrows raised, trying to stay composed. You didn’t need to look at his bare chest. You didn’t. “I guess that makes sense, like a scalp massage, right?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, eyes slowly opening again to meet your gaze through the mirror. His lips had curled into a half smile and the way he looked at you made your heart stop for a moment.

“Okay, go pop another bag on your head and let that process for 20-ish minutes?” you glanced away, clearing your throat needlessly. As Seungcheol flopped onto the couch, you applied the tanzanite hair dye to your bleached ends, doing your best to avoid staining his bathroom permanently.

“Okay, my timer’s up!” Cheol announced as he burst into the bathroom again unceremoniously. Apparently you’d zoned out after applying the purple dye and you jumped at his intrusion. “Scoot,” he grabbed you at the waist and relocated you easily. He grabbed the showerhead and leaned over the tub, rinsing the silver toner out of his hair. You intended to leave, you wanted to leave, but when it came down to it you couldn’t do anything but stare at his broad back, mind frazzled at the way he had lifted you up so easily.

“Damn,” Seungcheol whistled appreciatively, regarding himself in the mirror, “This looks good!”

“You’re welcome,” you nodded surely at him, “And you doubted me.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry, you killed it,” Cheol grinned at you. Without thinking it through, he pulled you into his chest and gave you a squeeze.

“Cheol, dye!” you panicked, pushing him away. “See, now you’re purple,” you frowned, looking at the splotch of purple on his chest that had transferred from your hair. Without thought, you swiped at it with your fingers, hoping to wipe it off before it stained too badly. It took a few passes, but eventually you gathered it all and rinsed it down the sink drain.

“Thanks,” Seungcheol coughed, nerves alight at the friction of your fingertips woefully close to his nipple. A quick shudder ran through him before he could gather his thoughts and compose himself.

“Okay, now get out, I’m going to rinse out my color. Mine’s gonna be messy, so I’m just gonna take an actual shower,” you shooed him out insistently.

After you closed and locked the door for good measure, you let out a sigh. What had you been thinking, touching his bare chest like that? You must be out of your mind. Jumping into the shower, you let the water wash the dye from your hair and the thoughts from your mind.

Seungcheol ruminated while you showered. He had already acknowledged that something in him had shifted after you’d visited him last week. You had always just been Jihun’s sister and that hadn’t really changed much since you’d moved back. However, seeing you in that emotionally vulnerable state last week had started to chip away at the way he thought of you.

“Whew, okay, the ordeal is done!” you laughed as you emerged from the bathroom pointing at the towel wrapped around your head. “I picked a darker one, but I can’t promise that the purple is gonna wash out,” you chuckled sheepishly, skin pink and glowing from the shower.

“I’m not worried about that,” Cheol shrugged, “Now take a rest, stylist,” he teased, patting the couch cushion next to him. Patty chirped in protest at the noisy impact, but settled back into his lap eventually as you finished the show you had started earlier.

…

“Cheol, Cheol!” Wren beckoned Seungcheol as he was walking through the hallway towards the stockroom.

“What?”

“What do you think about starting a Tiktok account for the studio? People seem to really like them, it could help us drum up some business!”

“I don’t know…,” he rubbed his chin contemplatively, “Are you going to run it? I want no part of it, to be honest.”

“Yes, I will!” Wren nodded furiously, “This looks way more fun and I could definitely do it between my normal job responsibilities.”

“I-, okay. But people have to agree to be in your videos, okay? None of this sneaky filming business,” Seungcheol furrowed his brows at them before returning to his office.

To Seungcheol’s surprise, Wren really took initiative of the social media management and within a month or so, had amassed a significant number of followers. Wren was always on their phone anyways, and so kept on top of the latest trends and viral sounds. Seungcheol was also surprised at the ways in which the internet seemed to love their ragtag group. Folks found Joshua to be painfully handsome, Vernon and Hoshi to be side bustingly funny, and Wren to be endearing. You had even featured in a handful of videos when you’d happened to be at the studio and commenters the entire week afterwards playfully demanded ‘more YN content’.

“Cheol, have you reconsidered showing your face on Tiktok?” you asked after watching a ‘the art versus the artist’ tiktok.

“No,” he shook his head firmly.

“Aw man, this would’ve been a good video too!” you pouted, turning your phone to show Wren.

“Oh damn it, yeah it would be!” they shouted woefully.

“What is it?” Coups asked, feigning indifference.

“Okay, so the concept is showing art and then the artist that made it. Cheol you’re so talented, I feel like this is such a nice way to showcase your work!” you pleaded with him, though you were not particularly hopeful. When he didn’t reject you outright, you offered him your phone to show an example.

“Hm,” the corner of his lip pulled back as he contemplated. Your heart rose hopefully in your chest, was he genuinely considering this?

“YN can be in the video too! She’s a good example of healed work!” Wren clapped excitedly at the prospect. “We can start the video zoomed in on her thigh tattoo and then zoom out to show you!”

Seungcheol raised his eyebrows at you in an unspoken question. It seemed that he was in if you were too. Holding back an ecstatic squeal, you nodded, over the moon at finally getting Cheol to agree to be in a Tiktok.

The first section went smoothly. Wren positioned you in front of the studio window for flattering lighting and then zoomed in on your thigh. The second part where they would zoom out to a video of Seungcheol was not as seamless. First they wanted to try a solo shot, which didn’t pass muster. Then you tried posing next to Cheol, which Wren deemed ‘too stiff’. Finally, they took over full creative control and positioned Seungcheol behind you with his face above your shoulder. After a few more failed takes, he didn’t even register it when he leaned forward to mumble idle threats into your ear. Something about ‘never should have agreed to this’ and ‘I don’t know that we need a receptionist anyways’, which made you chuckle.

Wren stilled in the midst of filming. Their gaze moved from the screen and lifted over the phone to observe you directly. The sight of Seungcheol with his face tucked into your neck and making you laugh was so tender it made Wren want to scream at the both of you.

“You got it?” Seungcheol looked up suddenly.

“I mean…I got something,” Wren replied, bemused.

…

You were excited. Jihun was coming home for Thanksgiving! By your math, it had been well over a year since you’d last seen him, so your parents were going all out. They’d invited all of your friends, but Seungcheol had been the only one to take them up on the offer. It was going to be nostalgic, the five of you together, but holidays were all about nostalgia, right? You’d spent the day with your parents, helping them prepare the house and meals. Seungcheol had been assigned to pick up Jihun from the airport when his flight arrived that afternoon, so you were surprised when you heard a knock on the door a little after noon.

“Oh, who-?” your mom wondered as she opened the door, “Seungcheol, darling, you’re early!”

“I know, but I thought I’d come see if I could help with anything until then,” he shrugged, stepping into the threshold.

From the kitchen, you did a double take. Seungcheol was wearing an unbuttoned button down with a matching t-shirt underneath and accessorized with a medium weight chain necklace. He looked nice, which made you momentarily self conscious that you were still wearing chores clothes. You threw him a quick smile before returning to finish washing the sheet pans that were no longer needed.

“Can I help?” he offered.

“You wanna dry?” you suggested, pointing out a dry towel. He nodded and settled in next to you, drying off anything you handed to him. “What time does Jihun’s flight get in again?”

“Three, so I’ll probably leave around two. There’s probably airport traffic today.”

You nodded as you finished up the dishes and set the gloves aside to dry.

“Mom, what else can I help with?” Seungcheol had already wandered off in search of your mother.

You rolled your eyes. He had called your mom ‘Mom’ since you were kids. The first time had been an accident and you had replied ‘No, she’s my mom!’ quite indignantly. Your mom had chuckled and patted young Seungcheol on the head, reassuring him. At first he continued to call her ‘Mom’ mostly to irritate you, but over time, it sort of just became reality. Seungcheol was over at your house so much that he really did feel like family at times.

“You’re so thoughtful, Cheol,” your mom beamed up at him, “You can come help Dad and I wrap dumplings if you like.”

“Sure,” he nodded, hip checking you away from the kitchen sink so he could wash his hands. You huffed indignantly as you took your seat at the dumpling table as well.

“So Seungcheol,” your dad cleared his throat, “How are things at the shop?”

“Good! Not much has changed since you were last there,” he cocked his head thoughtfully.

“You’ve been to the studio?” you queried, confused at the idea of it.

“Yes, of course! We had to congratulate him once we heard he was taking it over. I’m not sure we’re tattoo people, still, but our Cheol is a business owner now!” your dad laughed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“It’s still a small town, YN,” Seungcheol chuckled, “Not much happens without everyone knowing about it.”

“That’s true,” your mom nodded. For example, she had heard through the grapevine that you often hung out with Seungcheol and his staff at Anne Kim’s bar. Apparently quite an edgy group of youngsters. The Kim’s had long ago given up running the establishment themselves, but it was a good source of passive income and town information.

“That’s so funny, I can’t imagine you there!” you giggled.

“They brought me a cake and everything,” Cheol chuckled, recalling that day fondly. It had taken some explaining to get everyone to understand that they were not, in fact, Seungcheol’s own parents and the cake had done a good job of quieting them all down.

“That’s so cute,” you gushed.

When you’d been younger, it had sometimes bothered you how easy it was for your mom to love your friends in what felt like the same way that she loved you. Now that you were older, you could appreciate her capacity to love in a different way.

“I should go get Jihun,” Seungcheol announced, placing one more lopsided dumpling onto the tray before standing up.

“Drive safe!”

“Will do,” Seungcheol smiled at your mother, disarmingly charming.

“What a good boy,” she preened happily as you finished wrapping up the dumpling filling. “Have you hung out with Seungcheol much since you’ve moved back?” she asked, even though she knew the answer already.

“Occasionally,” you shrugged, but as you did the math you realized that you’d probably seen him more than anyone else in recent days. “I’ve probably hung out with his receptionist, Wren, more though. They’re nice!”

“Oh, Wren! Yes, I remember from the studio. They’re just cute as a button, aren’t they?” your mom chirped. So you weren’t willing to admit that you were closer with Seungcheol than you’d ever been before. That was okay.

“Yes, they really wanted to come for Thanksgiving too, but they decided to go to their partner’s family’s instead.”

“Well, you know you don’t need an excuse to bring them around. Our house is always open. You too,” she gave you a pointed look. You grinned sheepishly. You knew they always wanted you to visit more.

“I’ll bring them around!” you nodded affirmatively.

“In fact, the rest of the shop can come too! They’ll keep us young,” your dad added suddenly. Your dad had always been quieter than your mom, but every so often he said something that left you absolutely slack jawed. This was one of those times.

“I’ll let them know,” you shook your head with a chuckle. “I’m going to go shower and change now.”

Your parents waved you off goodnaturedly and you retreated to your childhood bedroom. Everything you needed was in your duffel bag, but you couldn’t help from getting distracted by all of the stuff that your mom had kept exactly the same. Filled with nostalgia, your fingertips skimmed across the figurines, books, and other memorabilia. Your diary caught your eye and you pulled it out by the spine, curious to read some of your old thoughts. It was all cringey as hell, but it made you laugh as you thumbed through. As you reached the end, something fell out from the pages which surprised you. A polaroid of Seungcheol from the night you had told Wren about many months ago at this point. It was from the night before he and Jihun had left for college and the last time you remembered him being blonde prior to this most recent bleach job. You smiled softly as you peered at it in disbelief. Seungcheol looked the same, but different. His roots were a touch more grown out than they were right now and he was wearing that dog tag necklace that he had felt was so cool back then. What a handsome doofus.

“Woof, nostalgia is one hell of a bitch,” you muttered under your breath, surprised at your own reaction.

Shoving your thoughts aside, you jumped into the shower and focused on getting ready. The warm water soothed you infinitely and you hummed contentedly to yourself as you finished getting ready. You changed into a cute yet comfortable outfit and headed down the stairs to join your parents. You were in the middle of contemplating a cookie when the front door opened dramatically.

“I’m home!” Jihun announced excitedly as he entered the house. To your surprise, not one but two figures followed him inside.

“Jihun-a!” your mom cooed excitedly as she moved towards the door. “Oh who’s this?”

“Mom, Dad, this is my girlfriend Hyejin!”

“Oh my goodness, what a surprise!” your mom tittered excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me so I could have prepared?”

“Mom, you’re always prepared anyways! I wanted to surprise you,” Jihun shook his head.

Your parents tsked appropriately at Jihun while ushering Hyejin inside. As they tittered over her, you threw a look at Seungcheol.

“Surprise!” he wiggled his hands weakly, which made you burst out laughing. You rolled your eyes before joining the family in the living room.

“Hyejin, this is my sister, YN,” Jihun gestured towards you as you entered.

“Hi,” you grinned excitedly at Hyejin. “I’m very excited to share with you all of Jihun’s most embarrassing stories!” you shook her hand with a little too much vigor for your brother’s tastes.

“I’m so excited to meet you all!” Hyejin smiled. She was so pretty!

“Genuinely, you’re so pretty, what the hell are you doing with Jihun?” you couldn’t help but ask mischievously.

“YN,” Seungcheol furrowed his brow, “Easy.”

“You’re right, I’ll let you settle in. I’ll ask later,” you whispered surreptitiously to her, drawing a small chuckle. Instead you joined Seungcheol as your parents lightly grilled Hyejin and Jihun about their relationship. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell any of us,” you mumbled at Cheol. “Did he share much on the drive with you?”

“No, not much,” he shook his head. “I was surprised too, I haven’t seen her on his socials or anything. Must be recent?”

“Hm,” you shrugged.

Seungcheol watched you as you looked on with interest. You looked really cute in your holiday cardigan. You could feel Seungcheol’s gaze on you. You kept your eyes facing forward, but you couldn’t help a light shiver before you decided it was time to rejoin the fray. Seungcheol looked on from the kitchen, allowing you this familial moment. Dinner passed quickly, everyone enjoying the opportunity to catch up with or get to know each other. You found that you were a big fan of Hyejin. She was funny, clever, and so easy to talk to. Seungcheol and Jihun caught up easily, like old times. Your parents looked on happily at their lovely little family.

“Okay, time for a movie!” your mom announced once everyone had finished eating.

“Movie?” Hyejin wondered and the rest of you stood.

“Family tradition, movie theater after an early dinner,” Cheol answered with a smile. “Are we playing for right to choose? Or perhaps because we have a guest…?” he gestured to Hyejin.

“Oh I think guest chooses,” you nodded supportively.

“Really?” Hyejin was surprised. “Okay, let me see what’s showing,” she laughed, pulling out her phone.

“Ooh I'm excited, good choice again Hyejin!” you bounced on the balls of your feet as you waited in line for concessions.

“Behave,” Seungcheol grabbed you by the shoulders, pinning you in place.

A jolt of heat darted through your chest at his grip. You suddenly flashed back to the day of your tattoo. This was a very similar feeling to when Seungcheol had grasped your upper thigh and murmured ‘good girl’ to you, effectively knocking the wind from your lungs. You stilled, unable to face him.

“Good girl,” he went on to commend you thoughtlessly as he perused snack options.

You blinked. A sharp exhale left your lungs as you struggled with the effect this was having on you. You wanted to punch Seungcheol, how could he be so careless with his words!

“Popcorn,” you answered the teenager when you got to the front of the line.

“What size?”

“Large,” you answered. You had saved room.

“Should we just share a bucket?” Cheol suggested.

“No! Get your own popcorn,” you scrunched your face at him. The possibility of accidentally brushing hands with him was too much to consider right now.

“Okay, damn,” he chuckled bemusedly as he went to order his own popcorn.

You knew you were acting odd, but you couldn’t help yourself. In an effort to distance yourself from Seungcheol, you wandered towards Jihun and Hyejin, eavesdropping on their conversation. They were discussing something boring so you wandered towards your parents instead.

“YN-ah,” they beckoned you towards them. “How are things since moving back? I know it was always a little small for you here,” your mom asked genuinely.

“You know,” you thought for a moment, wanting to answer honestly, “I was worried I wouldn’t be happy moving back…but I’ve made some good friends and I’m actually pretty happy!”

“That’s great,” your dad smiled at you.

Your mom studied your expression closely, but you didn’t give much away. She was curious whether your contentment was tied to Seungcheol as much as she hoped it would be. Your parents had always been big fans of Cheol throughout childhood. Part of it was proximity, of course, as Seungcheol had been at the house almost constantly throughout middle and high school. But the other part of it was that they saw the ways in which Seungcheol complimented both you and Jihun. Seungcheol had always had a calm energy and presence that didn’t hinder you from being yourself, but also tempered your personality when occasionally necessary.

“Movie time!” your parents announced, ushering everyone towards theater six. As everyone paired off, you found yourself sitting next to Seungcheol.

“We should’ve just shared a popcorn, we paid basically double to have the same amount in separate bags,” he pouted at you.

“I want to have my own bag, leave me alone!” you whisper shouted at him, scrunching your face at him in the dark.

Hyejin giggled as she watched you and Seungcheol with fascination. Jihun had mentioned that you all had been childhood friends, but not that you two were dating. She wondered how long it’d been since you and Seungcheol had gotten together and whether Jihun even knew. She’d have to ask after the movie was over.

“That was good,” you nodded surely as everyone piled into the car. “I was especially a fan of the scenes where the fruit and vegetable carts were upturned. Love me a good ‘my cabbages’ moment!”

“Me too!” Hyejin giggled

The ride back was filled with excited discussion, laughter, and some good natured teasing. Your parents helped themselves to a slice of apple pie and let you all know you were welcome to the leftovers if you got peckish before they retired to bed. Eventually Jihun and Seungcheol wandered off to look at something in the basement, which allowed you to visit with Hyejin more.

“So how long have you and Seungcheol been dating?” she asked.

“W-what?” you sputtered. “Me and Cheol? No, we’re not!”

“Oh, I’m sorry! Are you really not?” she flushed, “You two seem so close!”

“No, no, don’t be sorry!” you leaned towards her, not wanting her to feel embarrassed, “We are close! But we’ve known each other for years,” you tried to explain.

“That really surprises me. You two seem very much in step with each other,” she mused. She had literally watched him eat the chestnuts that you’d pulled out of your stuffing and set on a side plate.

“I-, I mean I guess we are closer than before these days. I moved back to town a few months ago and Seungcheol is probably one of my closest friends right now,” you thought out loud. You weren’t sure whether it was just the longevity of the relationship, but there was a deep comfort that you had with Seungcheol that just couldn’t be beat.

“Ah, I see,” Hyejin nodded, tipping the rest of her wine back.

“Do you want another drink? Or maybe we can go bother the boys?”

“Why not both?” she laughed, so you led the way.

“Oy, degenerates! What are you doing down here? Smoking weed?” you teased as you bounced down the stairs.

“I mean we could be,” Jihun’s voice called back.

“Holding out on us,” you rolled your eyes playfully at Hyejin as you rounded the corner.

“Hey,” Hyejin grinned, looping an arm around Jihun’s waist and squeezing affectionately.

“Yo,” you punched Seungcheol awkwardly in the shoulder before flopping onto the futon next to him. “It’s been a damn minute since we were all down here, huh!”

“Yes it has,” Cheol’s eyebrows raised dramatically as he considered the length of time. “Probably haven’t been back since before college started.”

Jihun nodded in agreement and they both took turns sharing fun stories with Hyejin until your eyes started drifting shut. These beers really took a toll on you these days.

“Hey, YN,” Seungcheol’s voice and shoulder nudged you awake.

“Hm?” you murmured.

“You should go to bed,” he suggested.

“No, I’m fine! I’m just resting my eyes,” you protested, struggling to keep the aforementioned eyes open.

“Oh not this again,” Seungcheol shook his head. He had fallen for the ‘resting my eyes’ line a grand total of twice before he’d learned his lesson. That just meant you had already dozed off and were going to fall asleep again shortly. “YN, if you don’t go to bed now, I’m going to carry you up.”

“Do it, you won’t,” you goaded him sleepily. You managed half a yawn before he had hucked you over his shoulder and carried you up the stairs.

Jihun had been scrolling through his phone, and so looked up with slight confusion to see Hyejin grinning knowingly.

Seungcheol dumped you onto your bed as gently as he could manage, but you still landed with a loud ‘oof’. He scoffed as you curled into your pillows and comforter like a caterpillar into a cocoon. Why couldn’t you just admit you were tired like a normal person?

…

A few weeks after Thanksgiving, you were at Seungcheol’s again spending quality time with Patty when Jihun Facetimed him unexpectedly. Patty was sitting on your chest on the couch when Seungcheol picked up.

“Hey man, what’s up?”

“Not much, I was just calling to check in. Thanksgiving made me realize that I’ve done a shit job of keeping up with you so I want to change that!”

“Oh, for sure,” Cheol laughed, a little surprised. “Oh, YN is here too!” he directed the phone to you and Patty. You waved from underneath her.

“Oh, YN is there?” you heard Hyejin’s voice in the background. “That reminds me, I’m gonna to text her!”

[hyejin]: ‘hey, I saw an ad for this yesterday and it made me think of you!’

You squealed in excitement at the attached screenshot she sent of a frog stun gun. It even had a little butt on the back! Patty jumped off of your chest in protest of your loud noise, but your excitement was difficult to contain.

[yn]: ‘OMFG. THNEED’

[hyejin]: ‘right?!? when they do their next shop update, i’m ordering for both of us!’

“Coups, look!” you hopped off of the couch excitedly to show Seungcheol, completely derailing his conversation with Jihun. “It’s a frog. And a self defense stun gun. And it has a butt!” you flipped through the pictures excitedly. Seungcheol nodded good naturedly at you before returning to his discussion with Jihun.

“I didn’t know you had a cat,” your brother's voice floated across the room. Seungcheol explained the situation, to which Hyejin sent you a slew of texts rapidly.

[hyejin]: ‘are you sure you’re not dating seungcheol?!?’

[hyejin]: ‘you can tell me if you are. i wont tell jihun!’

[hyejin]: ‘im cool!’

[yn]: ‘im not!’

You furrowed your brows slightly. You and Hyejin had kept in touch since Thanksgiving and she had taken to fussing over you like an older sister. For the most part you loved it, but this probing about Cheol made you feel…confused. It wasn’t the first time that people had mistaken you as a couple and you almost understood why. No, the thing that was difficult to contend with was the fact that you…didn’t hate it?

[hyejin]: ‘okay 👀 im just sayin not many people would let a cat live at their house just for a friend’

[hyejin]: ‘but maybe im wrong!’

You sat up and watched Seungcheol over the back of the sofa as he chatted with Jihun. You didn’t bother to process what they were saying, but you watched the way the corner of his lips lifted into a half side, revealing one of his dimples. You’d seen his dimples a million and one times before, but this time it felt like your heart shot up into your throat, clogging it. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you tried to clear it either, that bitch was stuck. Seungcheol threw you a ‘you good?’ glance before returning his attention to your brother. There was nothing remarkable about it. There was no reason it should make you nervous. And yet, the slight pinch between his brows and the clear concern in his eyes made you squirm.

“I gotta go!” you announced to Seungcheol and Jihun, waving casually at them before pulling on your shoes. Patty gave you a departing headbutt and you were out the door.

“I thought she didn’t have plans today,” Seungcheol’s expression was clearly confused after you left.

While you drove home with all of the windows rolled down in an effort to regain composure, Seungcheol tied up his conversation with Jihun. The house felt quite empty now that he wasn’t on a call and you were also gone. It was a surprising thought for him to have, since he’d long ago gotten accustomed to being alone and in fact quite liked it. But he’d be an idiot to ignore the fact that his life had changed dimensionally since you’d come back into it.

You’d coaxed him into a closer friendship with his staff members, gifted him the furry little gremlin that he now looked forward to coming home to, and you yourself had become someone that he thought of often and cared for deeply. He’d been unsure whether it was the same kind of proximity based fondness that you had shared before, but upon further consideration, he concluded that this was not the case. These days he didn’t just tolerate you. He sought you out. He wanted to fill his time with you. He wondered if you felt the same.

…

[wren]: ‘come on, please?!’

[yn]: ‘i’m tired 😩’

You frowned at your phone. You weren’t actually so tired that you didn’t want to go out, but you felt a sort of reluctance to go because you’d been avoiding seeing Seungcheol. It had taken some time to sort through your feelings, but you’d finally accepted that you were struggling with an attraction to him that you needed to get over. You were sure you could, you just needed time.

Seungcheol ran his hands through his hair as he finished up his profit and loss statements for the month. It had been a good month. In fact, an extraordinarily good month, which also meant that there were many more transactions to account for. In the past, he probably would’ve rather walked off of a bridge than do his P&Ls, but the spreadsheets that you’d help build for him were a genuine lifesaver. You’d even helped with figuring out how to automate data downloads from the PoS system which saved him and Wren a huge amount of headache. He really needed to treat you to dinner or something as a thank you.

[seungcheol]: ‘when are you free?’

You stared at your phone. What the hell was in the water today? Your heart had jumped when you’d seen Seungcheol’s text. You were of two minds: one wanted to read and respond to it immediately while the other wanted to throw the phone into a garbage chute. As usual, you let both sides percolate before reaching a happy compromise. You read the text but didn’t respond until later.

[yn]: ‘kind of depends. what for?’

[seungcheol]: ‘i want to take you out.’

[seungcheol]: ‘as a thank you for the p&l spreadsheets’

Your hopes rose and fell just as quickly as you read the texts in sequence. It was a professional matter.

[yn]: ‘that’s not necessary! friends help each other’

His brow scrunched upon reading the word ‘friend’. It sent such a pang through his chest that he wasn’t expecting, but he felt persistent today.

[seungcheol]: ‘i dont see why that should stop me from showing you that i appreciate you. let me know when you’re free for dinner’

Your heart flip flopped in your chest. How could you get through a dinner with him when just a text affected you like this? And yet you had no valid reason to say no.

…

You tapped your toe nervously as you waited for Seungcheol. You had decided on Friday after work and he had insisted on driving you, because he had wanted to keep the restaurant a surprise. So here you were, 6:12 pm on Friday and incredibly, unreasonably nervous about dinner. You wondered if you could still cancel.

[seungcheol]: ‘here’

“So much for that,” you muttered to yourself before stepping out of your apartment. The only indication of dress code that Cheol had given you was ‘don’t look like a hobo’, so you’d chosen a simple black dress with a colorful and fun cardigan. There was a slight chill in the air, so you pulled the cardigan a little tighter around yourself as you climbed into his car.

“Hey,” he broke into a smile as soon as he saw you. “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” you replied as you buckled your seatbelt. You gave him a quick once over as he backed out of the parking space. He was dressed in all black and the visual focal point was a half-pearl, half-chain choker necklace that really stood out. “Oh I like that!”

“I thought you might,” he grinned at you as he leaned back, settling into his seat after getting onto the highway. “It seems your kind of style,” he explained when your brows furrowed.

“Ah,” you nodded, not quite sure what to say. “So where are we eating, will you tell me now?”

“Yes. We’re going to Kyōten, in the city.”

“What?!” you glanced at him, slightly alarmed, “That’s kind of a haul!”

“It’s not too bad. Plus our reservation is at 7:30. I budgeted enough time.”

“Still, you don’t have to drive that far! We could’ve eaten somewhere in town,” you grumbled.

“I’ve been wanting to try this place too. Not everything’s about you, baby,” he teased. This was true in part. Seungcheol was interested in the omakase menu at this restaurant, but he likely wouldn’t have gone by himself. “How’s work been, by the way? I feel like I haven’t seen you around much lately.”

You flushed at the moniker ‘baby’ before pushing through it to answer him. It was true, you’d been working a handful of extra shifts at work here and there in preparation for the holiday season. But you’d also been making yourself scarce because you still couldn’t control the physical reaction that you sometimes had to Seungcheol. You omitted that part in your answer, but did share a handful of funny stories that had happened at work lately. Seungcheol, in turn, updated you on some of the interesting happenings at the studio as of late. Hoshi had finally been able to do the largest tiger flash that he had available, which had been incredibly exciting to him. Joshua had attended the annual APP conference and made a lot of good contacts. The studio was working out details on a guest piercer spot in the near future. Before you knew it, you had pulled into the parking ramp near the restaurant.

“Oh it’s windy!” you remarked as you stepped out of the car.

“Here,” Seungcheol pulled a spare puffer jacket out of his backseat and handed it to you. You’d wrapped it around yourself gratefully as you completed the short walk to Kyōten.

“We have a reservation for 7:30. Seungcheol,” he informed the hostess. She nodded kindly and led you through the dark space towards the sushi bar. You remarked at the beautiful architecture and decor as you hopped onto the bar stool. “I’ll just stand, if that’s okay?” he asked the hostess, tucking his stool slightly to his left under the bar.

“Have you all done this before?” you asked the people sitting next to you as you waited.

“No, we haven’t!” they shook their heads, “Have you?”

“Oh thank god! No, I definitely haven’t. You haven’t either, right?” you asked Seungcheol, realizing you didn’t know.

“No,” he shook his head.

“Don’t be nervous! Just eat what they give you,” the couple on the other side of the bar from you smiled kindly. “The chefs here are great, they’re very interactive and fun. Just have a good time.”

Reassured now that the ice was broken, the six of you chatted before the chef came. The pair next to you shared that they were celebrating their second anniversary. They had also driven in and were staying for a long weekend in the city.

“That’s so fun, I love that! We’re just here for the night,” you smiled at them, the sake warming you from the inside out.

“What about you two? Is this a special occasion?”

“Sort of,” Seungcheol answered, draping his arm across the back of your stool as he did so. “It’s a thank you dinner for YN. She’s been a huge help with my business this year, so I thought I ought to show her my appreciation properly.”

“What do you do?” Miseon asked curiously.

“I run a tattoo and piercing studio,” he answered.

As he explained in more detail, you felt like your back was itching, the way you were hyper aware of his arm draped behind you. Seungcheol had gotten closer and closer to you as he’d engaged in the conversation with Miseon and Nuri. It wasn’t like you weren’t used to physical closeness with him, but the interior of this restaurant was so intimately lit that it tricked you into overthinking the whole situation. Even after the chef arrived and dinner commenced, he didn’t distance himself from you at all.

“Would you like to join us for a few drinks? We’re having such fun with you!” Nuri asked once you were all back on the sidewalk.

Seungcheol looked to you, indicating that he was game. The way you smiled back at him, flushed in the apples of your cheeks, made his breath hitch.

“Sure!” you nodded excitedly. You’d also really enjoyed Nuri and Miseon and were happy to keep the night going.

The four of you did some quick googling before settling on a bar a few blocks away. At the second crosswalk, you’d been a little too engaged in the conversation and nearly stepped into oncoming traffic. Without thought, Seungcheol had hooked his arm around your waist to pull you back and simply left it there. Your eyes flew to him at this touch. He was looking straight ahead and you were surprised when the idea of planting a kiss along his jaw popped into your mind. You flushed and shook your head when his head turned to look at you again.

The bar was cute and the next hours passed quickly as you chatted with Nuri and Miseon and enjoyed the ambiance and music. A few times you had looked up to see Seungcheol’s dark eyes trained on you from across the bar and you’d flushed each time. Before too long you were saying your goodbyes and driving back home. The car was quiet as you and Seugcheol both reflected on the night.

Even though he had framed it up as a ‘thank you’ dinner, you felt like that label didn’t quite fit. You might have been overthinking it, but Kyōten had been so intimate and the way that Seungcheol’s touches seemed to linger felt different than your usual closeness. You’d also been mistaken as a couple a few times and neither of you had bothered to correct them, which you usually did. Perhaps it was the context of being in a city you didn’t live in, but it just didn’t seem important this time.

Seungcheol tapped his fingers against the gearshift as he drove. He’d known Kyōten might be a little more romantic than your typical dinner with a friend, but he’d chosen it because he’d overheard you share with Wren that you were really interested in trying omakase style dining. It hadn’t been totally conscious on his part, but he’d found himself finding ways to be closer to you throughout the evening and he’d been surprised at how you’d responded. You hadn’t shied away from his touch and he’d seen you blush a few times throughout the night in ways that made him wonder if his attraction towards you wasn't completely one sided.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, glancing towards you as he drove down the dark roads.

“Yes,” you beamed at him, “Although you spent entirely too much money, Cheol.”

“Hey!” he cut you off with a stern look, “I told you, this is a show of my appreciation. Let me just appreciate you.”

“Hm,” you pursed your lips at him, trying and failing to not imagine those words in a different context.

Seungcheol pressed his tongue against his cheek. He’d always enjoyed the way you reacted when he teased you.

“Thanks for driving,” you threw him a smile before reaching for the door handle. You were eager to get out of this car, which felt entirely too hot right now.

“I’ll walk you,” he announced, leaving the car as well and stepping to your side.

“Oh?” you were surprised. This was not typical.

“I really enjoyed tonight,” he commented as you stepped onto the front stoop of your apartment building.

“Me too!” you beamed, eyes creasing softly at him.

“I want to tell you something,” he cleared his throat and your heart stopped.

“O-kay,” you nodded a moment later when you were actually able to retrieve your voice.

“I-, uh,” he cleared his throat again when he tried to speak. “You are very important to me, so I want you to know that nothing has to change between us after I say what I say.”

You blinked at him, heart racing so fast that you were worried you wouldn’t be able to hear him over its beating.

“My life has changed a lot since you moved back. I am closer to my friends, the shop is doing really well, and I have a cat that I guess I love now. And that’s mostly because of you, so thank you for that. But also, I, uh, my feelings about you have changed. I think about you often and my house honestly just feels empty when you’re not there. So I like you,” he felt like he was shouting now, so he tried to reign it in, “I like you and you don’t have to say anything, I just want you to know.”

Your brain had screeched to a halt and you were frozen throughout most of his confession. The cogs started turning again as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead and let you know he’d text you tomorrow. He was back in his car when you’d gathered yourself enough to run after him.

“Hey!” you practically jumped out in front of his car as he tried to leave the parking spot.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” he shouted, jumping out of the car after slamming on the brakes and putting it back in park.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” You couldn’t explain why, but you were fuming. “You need to be less careless with your words!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Seungcheol threw his hands up, completely caught off guard by the fact that you were…yelling at him?

“You can’t just call me ‘good girl’ while you’re tattooing my inner thigh or tell me you like me and then leave? What about me and my sanity?”

“What?” Seungcheol’s eyebrows raised into his hairline as he processed what you had said. Surely you didn’t mean…?

He was taking too long to understand so you walked towards him, grabbed him by that damned pearl chain necklace, and pulled him into a kiss. He was surprised for just a moment before he was kissing you back intently.

“Were you doing it on purpose?” you asked between kisses.

“What?” he asked, not totally grasping what you were asking.

“Was it on purpose?” you reiterated, fingers teasing at the hairs on the back of his neck. “Your little touches, grabbing my waist? You were driving me crazy,” you exhaled sharply.

Seungcheol paused at this confession, drawing back to look at you fully. His eyes raked over you and you grew hot under his gaze.

“It wasn’t, but I guess I couldn’t help myself,” he chuckled, lips curling into a half smile.

“Turn your car off,” you demanded and Seungcheol was more than happy to comply.

#scoups fic #seungcheol fic #scoups fluff #seungcheol fluff #svt fic #svt fluff #scoups fanfic #seungcheol fanfic #svt fanfic #svt imagines #seungkwansphd:writes #kpop fanfic

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theboarsbride · 2 months

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So...don't be mad guys but...new idea for new OCs... It combines my need to write a unicorn story and having a guy inspired by Crispin Glover so... working idea is unicorn taking on a human disguise to seek revenge against the royals and hunters of a kingdom (that's kind of a mix of medieval and Tudor era) that has been hunting unicorns to extinction in order to use their bodies, blood, horns, etc. for both alchemical and medicinal uses, and along the way she runs into a knight/seasoned unicorn hunter who previously trapped her years ago, an encounter leaving her leg maimed and him missing an eye. So...uh...yeah...self indulgent enemies to lovers historical-inspired dark fantasy with a romance between a unicorn-in-hiding and a unicorn hunter heehee i just came up with this idea today while stuck in a car for hours and im so excited to explore it more... no in depth character work, yet, just vibes, FC ideas, etc. Vibes are like this:

And this being the inspo behind the knight and unicorn respectively:

And also there is a talking badger character who happens to be a witch that makes the unicorn human

Anyways‼️‼️lots of rambling!!!! Many thoughts!! Very excite!!

#jojo rambles

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explorevenus · 1 year

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better off ♡ leon kennedy x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni !!! not smut just heavy/adult themes + angst

this fic contains mentions/descriptions of self harm in the form of alcoholism and scratching. if that bothers or triggers you, please do not read!!!! take care of yourself first.

word count - 3.2k

description - it’s been a month since leon packed up and left you out of nowhere, cutting you off completely and without explanation. late at night, there’s a knock at your door, and there’s only one person it could be.

tags/warnings - vendetta!leon (aka leon in his alcoholism era), fem!reader, reader and leon are both emo without each other, self indulgent angst/comfort, breakup/makeup, hurt/comfort, no use of (y/n), reader doesn’t know what leon does for work, mention/brief description of self harm (reader was scratching at her arm), i think that’s all but lmk if i missed anything !

a/n - yeah so i wrote this literally a year ago and it’s just been rotting in my documents since then bc i never really had plans to post it but we love a good angsty leon fic every now and again so i hope y’all enjoy <3 can’t promise there will be more of this in the future as i am not the best at writing angst but lmk what y’all think and maybe we can talk about it hehehe

taglist - @tosuckmyweenis @dollrxst @alicerosejensen

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic below the cut - thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ♡

- venus ♡

You felt achy. All over.

Physically, of course, but also mentally. Psychologically. This horrible, hollow pain that radiated from your tight chest and crept into your brain, settled in your sour stomach. Through the fog of noise in your head, somewhere between stagnant and rambling, you passively realized you couldn't remember the last time you'd eaten, showered, blinked... Your eyes were so dry, it stung a bit when you forced them shut. The hum of the ceiling fan continued.

Your bed didn't even feel comfortable anymore, but you couldn't care enough to move-- your hair was dangerously close to matting, the air in the room hung stiff, the bedding was well overdue for a wash, but... when you got close enough, his pillow still faintly smelled like him, so you held it. The stray shirt of his that you'd found mixed in with your dirty laundry still faintly smelled like him, so you wore it. His spare toothbrush sat untouched on the bathroom counter, right where he'd left it. To dare moving anything from his intended place for it felt like a crime.

It had been just over a month since Leon had left you. It was so sudden, so utterly shattering, and as he disappeared into that night you were never given a chance at closure. For days you tried calling, texting, left voicemail after embarrassing voicemail until one day your texts began failing to deliver, and your calls would no longer go through. He'd blocked you. Beyond any and all parameters of how you'd ever expected to lose him, he was just... done with you. You apparently didn't even deserve a response from him. You didn't deserve closure. You couldn't stop analyzing all of your interactions in the preceding weeks, trying to think if you'd noticed him being cold or dismissive, telltale symptoms of the ick, but you came up with nothing.

Eighteen months of the most intimate love and connection you'd ever experienced with another person, all rendered nothing overnight. That night...

It was a biting January evening. A slow work day. You finished up your work early and were able to head home at a rare 3:30 pm, but unfortunately, Leon was stuck late at work.

Again.

You weren't mad at him, of course-- far from it. You felt so bad for him. His entire life he'd done nothing but work himself to the bone for other people and you truly wondered how often he was even given his proper dues for that. You had never met someone so self-destructive in their altruism as him. On top of that, it didn't help that he wasn't allowed to share any of the details of his work with you, let alone anyone else. He had stressed to you time and time again how insanely classified the vast majority of his job is, and while you certainly believed him, you just felt so powerless to sit back and watch the toll it was taking on him.

That's not to say you didn't try your absolute best to be there for him in every other way possible, though-- when things got particularly bad you would make sure he was eating, sleeping, getting the love and attention he deserved. You'd do just about anything to put a smile on his tired face, to take his mind off of things for a while. Typically, you were at least somewhat successful, but for how long was a whole other demon. Of course you were happy to do these things for him, it was truly no problem if it meant easing his pain, but after a certain point it became evident that you were fighting a losing battle, and it terrified you.

It wasn't until almost 10:00 pm that his key slid into the lock, and he stepped into your shared apartment. Upon hearing him, you perked up from your spot on the bed, slipping out from beneath the covers to greet him, but just before you reached the bedroom door, it swung open and he charged into the room. His steps were heavy, his jaw and shoulders tense-- it stunned you for a moment. You weren't sure how to interpret what was happening until he started gathering his things.

"Leon, are you okay? What's going on?" You asked, still frozen in place by the door.

He didn't even look at you as he continued haphazardly shoving clothes into his duffel bag. "I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore."

"What?"

"I just don't think this is going to work out. I love you, but I have to leave."

You could have been shot. Suddenly your legs were numb and wobbling to uphold your own weight, and you went completely cold, like the blood had drained from your body. "W-What? Where is this coming from? What did I do wrong?"

"It's nothing you did," He answered as he zipped the bag. "We just can't be together." He turned on his feet to leave again. It was like adrenaline kicked in and you scrambled to follow him.

Grasping at the sleeve of his jacket, tears flooding your eyes, you were in absolute disbelief. You never saw this coming in a million years and even if you had, you never could have prepared yourself for what it'd feel like to lose him. "Leon, please don't do this," You wept, nails biting into the leather, trying as you might to pull him back while knowing you weren't nearly strong enough. "Please talk to me. I-I don't understand--"

He turned to face you suddenly, and it was then that you were finally able to see that his beautiful blue eyes were rimmed with tears, too. Oh how those tears enhanced the crystalline nature of his gorgeous blue, turning from calm shoreline to deep ocean. It was such a beautiful sight you never hoped to see again. "I know you don't understand."

Those simple words only twisted the knife. "I want to!" You cried.

"You can't!" Leon shouted back. With each passing second you felt yourself sinking into the floor, wasting away right before him. You wanted the Earth to open beneath you and swallow you up. You wanted this to just be a sick nightmare. "You can't. It's nothing you did or didn't do, you couldn't have done anything differently. This just isn't going to work."

He started towards the door again, but while he might be much stronger than you, he isn't faster-- before you even really thought about it you had slipped between him and the door, blocking his path. "Don't shut me out! I love you, Leon, I want to fix this, but I can't do anything if you don't tell me what's wrong! Please, I can't even imagine my life without you in it--" Your breath caught on your own tears, cutting off your miserable rambling. For a moment he hesitated, and you wondered if you'd actually managed to get through to him. Voice shaking, you continued, "Please don't leave. I love you."

With a deep sigh, he rested his hand on your shoulder, and you were so ready to let your guard down that you didn't realize you'd misinterpreted until it was too late. He simply nudged you out of the way and turned the handle. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Take care."

"No!" You sobbed, trying to grab him by his jacket again but he wasn't letting it happen this time. "Leon! Don't do this! Don't leave!" He just kept walking, his figure receding down the hall as you collapsed to your knees in the doorway. "D-Don't leave..." Your words broke miserably, fading as he turned the corner and disappeared from your sight. You cared little about bothering your neighbors at this point. You could only cry in the wake of him.

There was a clumsy knock at the door, loud enough for you to have heard it from the bedroom. You froze, feeling anxiety overtake you at the sound, but you tried to tell yourself it was just a package being delivered or something. Holding your breath, you waited, and then came another knock, even louder this time. Your arm slipped out from beneath the covers, reaching for your phone to check the time-- 1:34 am. Definitely not the mailman.

Your heart sank. With great strain you forced yourself out of bed, bones creaking in sync with the floorboards, telling yourself over and over in your head that it was probably just one of your neighbors, or maybe the landlord. You grabbed a random pair of pajama shorts off the floor to preserve your modesty, stumbling into them with weak muscles, given you'd practically been in bed for a month straight. You turned the light on in the kitchen as you passed through, approaching the door, which was given yet another considerably loud knocking. Nervously, you raised yourself up on your tip toes and looked through the peephole.

And, just like that, the wind was knocked out of you.

Trembling, you hurried to unlock the door and swung it open. You didn't even have a chance to say anything before he stumbled inside, nearly taking you out in the process. Surprised, you took a step backwards for your own safety and he nudged the door shut again with his foot.

"Baby, I miss you," Leon slurred, coming closer as you moved away from him, that is until your back came up against the closet beside the door. "I thought you'd be better off without me, but I can't do it. I can't stay away from you."

The stench of straight bourbon hung around him, clung to his every word. You stuttered, "Y-You've been drinking..."

He put his hand on the wall next to your head to steady himself, the other brushing your hair behind your ear in what you guessed was a less than graceful attempt to be intimate in his drunkenness. "Baby, I'm sorry, okay? I only ever w-wanted to protec-ct you," He hiccupped. "I-I just wanted to keep you safe. But I just... I have to have you. Just let me have you again, baby."

As badly as you missed him, as much time as you'd spent withering away in bed, craving to have him back, something about his drunken pleading was sort of... pissing you off. The fact that he'd just up and left so harshly, so out of the blue, with zero explanation, and had the gall to get shitfaced and show up on your doorstep in the middle of the night begging for your forgiveness... it was insulting. Almost laughably so.

Planting a weak hand on his chest, you pushed him away, which wasn't hard to do given his intoxication, and you slipped past him to walk into the kitchen. "I'm sorry, you wanted to protect me? From what? And in order to do that you had to just pick a random day to rip my fucking heart out and disappear for a month?" Your volume, your anger heightened with every single word, like this entire time your depression had just been boiling inside you, melding into the deepest form of resentment. "I seriously can't believe you right now. This is fucking stupid."

He clambered after you, reaching for your arm but settled for resting his hand on your back when you swatted him away. "I know, I-I'm sorry... I shouldn't have done it the way I did. If I could take it all back I w-would--"

"But you can't, Leon! I will never get back the weeks I've spent in bed, wishing I would just fucking die. I've barely slept, I've hardly been going to work, I haven't been eating, because I can't even keep anything down-- I don't even feel like a fucking person anymore. Did you think I was just going to shrug and move on with my life? You fucking ruined me!" You couldn't even look at him as you screamed, even if you wanted to your vision was blurred with tears and you didn't want to let him see you crying right now. You busied yourself with getting a glass of water for him instead. At least if he sobered up you could have an actual conversation. "Are you even going to explain yourself? Or is it yet another one of those 'confidential' things I'll just have to make peace with never knowing the truth about?"

"Well.. p-part of it, I guess, but you have to believe me when I say I can't tell you. It wouldn't just be my life on the line, but yours too, and I would never take that risk," He was still slurring his words, which made it incredibly hard to take him seriously. It really only seemed to pour salt on the wound. Rolling your eyes, you slid him the glass of water and leaned back against the countertop. "W-What's this for?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Would it kill you to drink something that doesn't have liquor in it?"

He scoffed. "Babe--"

"Just drink the fucking water, Leon."

He obliged, to humor you if nothing else, but you did hope it would help. It was almost embarrassing how willing you were to nurture him, given what he'd put you through, but he thoroughly looked like hell, and you weren't going to let him waste away. Though, now that there was a gap in the argument, and you had a chance to breathe, you caught a glimpse of your own reflection in the oven, and, well, you weren't looking so hot either. Your dark circles were pitiful, and your eyes bloodshot. You sincerely looked like you'd had the shit beaten out of you. Your lips were cracked, your tongue stuck to the roof of your dry mouth and your hair was thickly knotted, collarbones peeking out of his shirt that was obviously very well slept in.

His voice brought you out of your daze. "Honey, your arm..." Suddenly he was approaching from behind, taking a gentle hold of your left arm, and though at first it took you a second to realize, you quickly jolted away from him, pulling your arm up to your chest.

Your back collided with the oven, and you turned your head away. "It's nothing."

"Y-You've been hurting yourself again--"

"So have you!" You yelled, but you knew it was a weak defense. About as quickly as you'd heated up, you'd gone cold, sinking away from him and still having a hard time meeting his eyes as he gently took hold of your arm again to look at it. His thumb skimmed over your skin with a featherlight touch, tracing the winding red trails that stung in their healing. "I-It's just scratches, I haven't been cutting or anything..."

Leon just shook his head, drawing you into his chest, and this time you didn't try to fight it. You let him hold you. He wrapped you up in his arms, rubbing your back, and as your head laid on his broad chest it felt like a broken piece of your life had just been laid softly back into place. "It's not just scratches, and you're right, I shouldn't be drinking," He sighed into your hair. "I guess we've both fallen back into old habits."

As much as you wanted to convince yourself that it was the water, you had a sore feeling that it was the shock of recognizing the state of you that sobered him up. Either way, the return of some level of coherence to his words was an immense comfort. Tearfully, you whispered into his shirt, "Yeah, I guess so."

"I really am sorry about the way I ended things between us," Leon sniffled, holding you a little tighter as if he were pleading with you to just listen to him. "My job is very dangerous, and very demanding. If something were to happen to me, or god forbid to you, because of me, I don't know that I'd ever be able to forgive myself. I-I know it's stupid, but I thought that the only way I could keep you safe was to remove myself from you completely."

"Leon... what have you gotten yourself into?"

He let out a hollow, defeated chuckle. "It's... it's a long story, sweetheart."

Pulling away from his chest just enough to allow yourself the space to look up at him, you asked, "Are you ever gonna be able to tell me what it is that you do every day?"

"Nothing's impossible, I guess-- maybe someday."

Maybe someday, huh? A sense of relief washed over you, not at the idea that you might eventually be let in on this big confidential secret, no-- in fact, you sincerely doubted that he'd ever be able to tell you at all, and was probably just saying that in an attempt to make you feel better-- but the way he'd worded it implied a future with you in it. A distant future.

Leon himself had always joked that it was never a good idea to plan very far ahead in his life. This meant something.

But it wasn't over yet, and you were far from ready to forgive him. "How can I trust that you're not just going to up and leave me again?"

For a second he seriously hesitated to respond, clearly fighting with himself internally over the right words to say. You couldn't blame him, but it was an important question that you felt more than deserved an answer at this point. Tucking your hair behind your ear, he replied, "Now that I know what it's like to try to live without you, I don't think I can ever put myself through that again. As miserable as I was, as much as I wish I could take that time back, it... taught me a lot about what's important to me. It taught me a lot about what I really want in life."

Now it was you having a hard time coming up with a response.

Taking note of this, he continued. "Look, I know I fucked up. And, again, I'm sorry. I can't justify it, it was a brash decision made in a vulnerable moment and I never should have lashed out at you like that. I know I don't deserve a second chance after what I've put you through, but I-I promise... I swear, that if you just let me, I will do whatever it takes to make this right. I want to be with you. I love you."

The answer was obvious. Of course getting back together wouldn't come without its trials, without repentance... but you loved him too. You wanted to be with him too. And, in your shared pain, your mutual longing for each other, you supposed you could allow one night to pretend like everything was okay again. Holding him was certainly more satisfying to the soul than holding his unwashed pillow.

You took a deep breath and sank into his chest again, burying your face into his shirt. He was so warm. "I love you too," You whispered. "It's late. We should get to bed."

This response stunned him for a moment, his hands that were softly rubbing your back just a second ago halted in their movement as it sank in. After a few seconds he dipped down to kiss the crown of your head before asking quietly, as if he were nervous of your response, "You mean together, right?"

You nodded. "Together. Please."

#venustext #emotext #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy angst #vendetta!leon kennedy #vendetta!leon kennedy x reader

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daisynik7 · 1 year

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Dirty Thirty

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

cw: thigh riding, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking, spit play, vaginal sex (doggy, cowgirl), cockwarming, use of pet names (princess and Master)

Word Count: ~5.6k

Summary: An alluring stranger gives you a special treat on the night of your 30th birthday.

Notes: Kishibe is in his mid 40s. Also, apparently he is 6’4”, so reader is shorter, below 6’. This is very self-indulgent considering my own 30th is in a few days (shout out to all my fellow Pisces babes)! Also, I started this after finishing Chainsaw Man a few weeks ago, so this is a result of heavy Kishibe brainrot.

Additional Note: Check out Part 2 here: After Last Night! Reblogs, likes, and/or comments are appreciated. Thank you for reading!

--------------------

The bass of EDM music reverberates through the speakers at the DJ’s booth. This particular bar you frequent turns into a club at 11 PM. College kids from the university down the street congregate in this establishment on the weekends, like today. You and your friends have been here since an hour ago, drinking and chatting in a booth hidden away to the side of the dancefloor. After dinner, you stopped by for a quick drink. With the booze and vibes just right, you ended up staying.

Tonight, you celebrate your birthday. It’s the end of an era, really. You’re officially thirty. You’ve been dreading this day for the past few months, sad to bid farewell to your twenties, which wasn’t all that anyways. The number of times your friends reassure you that your thirties are the new twenties only brings you mild comfort. Glancing at the crowd tearing up the dancefloor, you can’t help being envious of their youth.

Maybe it’s your buzz talking. You’re not one to feel sorry for yourself, especially about something as inevitable as aging. Thirty is young. Who cares if you’re the only one in your inner circle who’s single, unmarried, or childless? There’s no shame in it. You’re sick of women being scrutinized each year they get older for not doing what society tells them they should do. Who the fuck cares if you don’t have a ring on your finger or haven’t popped a baby out your vagina yet? It isn’t on your radar, and that’s perfectly fine. Men don’t get this much shit for remaining bachelors well into their forties or fifties, why should you?

You fidget with the glittery Dirty 30! sash you wear over your little black dress. A shimmering tiara sparkles on top of your head to complete your ensemble. Your friend’s voice in your ear snaps you out of your thoughts. “Hey birthday girl, how’s it going?”

Smiling, you hold your half empty glass up towards the middle. “Good. Thanks so much for coming out to celebrate tonight!” You’re ready to chug the rest of your liquor so you can head to the dancefloor. The other three women in your group cheers, clinking their drinks with yours.

You’re about to suggest dancing when your friend says, “Shall we call it a night?”

It catches you off guard. The music just started and it’s not even midnight yet. You’re not ready to go back to the real world; it’s your special day until you fall asleep, which you don’t plan to do for a few more hours. You’re silent though, listening as the other girls repeat a similar sentiment.

“My husband is waiting for me at home, so yes.”

“And my babies have an early morning play date tomorrow!”

Your friend beside you turns to you and asks, “Ready to go?”

Contemplating for a moment, you respond, “I think I might stay, actually. Have another drink or two.”

They stare at you bewildered, surprised you want to be here alone, which is unusual for you. “Are you sure?” they clarify.

“Yeah! Go ahead, I’ll be fine! I’m a big girl now,” you joke, standing up to hug them. They kiss you on the cheek, greeting you one last happy birthday before leaving together to go home to their husbands and children.

Craving another drink, you abandon your booth to approach the bar. You order your favorite: a vodka cranberry, your comfort cocktail throughout your 20s. A reminder that you’re still the same you despite moving up a decade.

You close your tab, promising yourself this is your last, and go back to your table. It’s now occupied by an older man in a black coat, sipping on amber liquor. Annoyed, and slightly intrigued, you sit opposite of him in the same booth. He lifts his head up slowly, noticing you.

“Hi there,” you greet him. Even in the dim light, the stitched scar on his left cheek stands out. The metal piercings on his ears glisten, the strobe lights reflecting off them from the dancefloor.

“Can I help you?” His voice is low and raspy, either naturally or from the alcohol.

“I was sitting here earlier. The other tables are all occupied, and I really don’t want to stand around on the dancefloor by myself. Can I sit here until I finish my drink? There’s plenty of room for the both of us.” You put on your most charming smile.

“Where are your friends? I’m sure you’d rather sit with them instead of with an old man like me.”

“They ditched me to go home. Besides, it looks like you could use the company.” You tip your cocktail into your mouth, keeping your gaze on him.

He watches you, skeptical. “How old are you?”

You glance down at your sash, which is now twisted so that the answer to his question is on your back where he can’t see. You grin at him. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?”

He hums, unamused. “I’m not keen on hanging out with girls in their 20s. Not really my style. Not tonight, anyways.”

“How old do you think I am?”

Narrowing his eyes at your tiara, he responds, “You’re wearing a crown, drinking a cranberry vodka at a bar that plays this shit music. I’d say you’re 23.”

This amuses you, like getting asked for your ID does, which is becoming rarer nowadays. It’s flattering.

“Hey, you’re here too. The only difference is that you’re drinking a whiskey,” you tease him, pointing at his glass.

“In my defense, I finished work nearby and this shitty cesspool was the closest bar I could find.” He takes a swig of his alcohol. “So, am I right?”

Sliding the sash to face him, you answer, “Nope. You’re wrong. Lucky for you, today is my birthday. And I just turned thirty.”

He cracks a smile at this, giving you a flutter below your belly. You’re not typically into older men; however, this guy has piqued your interest. There’s something about him that is alluring. Exciting.

“Happy birthday,” he says, swallowing the rest of his whiskey. “Get anything good?”

“No. But the night’s not over yet.” You’re full-on flirting now, not at all ashamed of how brazen you’re acting. Fuck it. You only turn thirty once, right?

There’s distance between you, but the tension is so thick, you could smell the bold scent of liquor coating his lips. He leans closer, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Well, I guess it’s my responsibility now to give you something good.”

~~~

Minutes later, you’re in the back of the cab, riding towards an address he mutters to the driver. He holds you, interlocking his fingers with yours, peering out his window in silence. You focus on your entwined hands resting on the middle seat, the intimacy of it all distracting you from the fact that you’re about to hook up with this attractive stranger.

The driver arrives to a swanky apartment complex. Once inside, Kishibe doesn’t give you enough time to marvel at the beautiful interior of the room. In an instant, his lips are on yours, both palms cupping your cheeks assertively. Breath hot and chalky from the mint you saw him savor earlier in the car. It barely masks the lingering taste of that cigarette you witnessed him drag waiting for your ride. He didn’t have the same type of smoker’s breath that you’re sick of from your coworkers. With him, you don’t mind it at all.

His hand trails down your neck, thumb carefully brushing over a pulse point right below your chin. His skin is rough and calloused compared to yours. The scraggly facial hair scattered along his jaw is scratchy on your cheeks.

He breaks the kiss, gazing at you while he removes his overcoat, hanging it on the rack in the corner, kicking his shoes off in the process. There’s a small bar cart in the kitchen, where he pours himself a whiskey. At the freezer, he reaches for the ice, dropping three cubes into the dark liquor with a plop. You stand still, observing him, nervous and thrilled about what this mysterious man will do to you tonight.

At the couch, he takes a seat, thighs spread wide, his wrist hanging low between them, gripping the top of the glass with his fingertips. “Come here,” he beckons.

Removing your heels quickly and abandoning your purse, you step towards him, ready to sit beside him until he demands, “No. Not there.” He pats his thigh with his free hand. “Here.”

Your body trembles with lust as you straddle him, pussy pulsing against his muscular thigh. He studies you, from your hazy stare down to him between your legs, savoring his cold liquor all the while. You gulp loudly, obediently waiting for his next command.

Gently removing the crown atop your head and tossing it aside, he asks, “What do you want from me, princess? It’s your birthday after all.” Hearing him call you princess gives you a rush you can no longer contain. You start moving on his thigh, riding it to feel the glorious sensations on your clit.

His chuckle vibrates through his chest as you grasp at his collar to hold you steady. “This is what you want? Okay. Take what you need. Come on my thigh. I’ll watch.” His gravelly voice in your ear makes you ride him harder, grinding against him until your creamy mess is soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. You clench his tie, loosening it around his neck. He continues to watch you, sipping on his booze, enjoying his own private show.

Once the glass is empty except for the melting ice, he sets it down on the coffee table, pulling you in closer, his hand behind your neck. Lightly blowing cool, whiskey breath along your lips. You lean forward to kiss him, his tongue slipping past to explore your needy mouth. The longing for his touch on every inch of your body grows stronger by the second as you moan into the kiss, bouncing on his leg.

“Can you come by yourself? Or do you need my tongue on it? I can lick it up real good if you’ll let me.” His obscene suggestion surprises you, as if you weren’t already performing lewd acts on his lap. You tug at his tie to pull him into another fierce kiss before sitting next to him on the couch, lifting the hem of your dress up to reveal your wet undergarments.

“I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. But I’m not calling you Daddy,” you tease, spreading wide for him.

His voice is low in his throat, kneeling on the carpet, face positioned between your thighs. “Good, because I prefer to be called Master.”

You roll your eyes at him, to which he responds, “What? You don’t like that? I bet I’ll have you screaming it all night long.”

This has you speechless as he drifts towards you, staring at the wet spot soaking through your lingerie. “Look how fucking wet you are for me.” He hooks his fingers around the fabric, stretching it to the side to expose your sopping cunt. Leaning in closer, he flicks his tongue gently onto your clit, causing you to squirm above him.

He’s testing the waters, starting slow to gauge your limit. It’s gentle at first, toying with your bud until it’s plump and sensitive. Until your wanton moans are bouncing off the walls of his big, fancy apartment. There’s no doubt that he knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s obvious this man has years of experience beyond you. Having this stranger swirl his tongue on the most intimate parts of your body makes you weak in the knees. This is the first time all night that you’re thankful to be turning thirty. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in this apartment, getting wrecked and torn apart by him.

“I’ve always wanted a plaything I can ruin,” he breathes out, finally wrapping his lips around you. “Will you be my pretty plaything tonight?” He surrounds your clit, drawing an erotic whimper from your mouth.

“Fuck, Kishibe. Yes. Use me as your plaything, fuck.”

He eats you out noisily, emphasizing every wet sound his mouth makes on your swollen bud. Several times, he spits on it, spreading his saliva up and down your pussy, plunging his tongue into your entrance to get it lubricated with his own drool.

“You’re fucking drenched down here. When’s the last time you let a grown man eat you out like this? I bet you’ve never been with someone like me, huh?”

You shake your head, swiping through his hair, spreading yourself wider for him. “Never.”

“I can tell,” he says, slipping his middle and ring finger into your entrance. “So fucking wet for me. I love it.” He pumps into you, curling his digits just right, resonating all the way down to your toes. His lips latch onto your clit, drinking you up to quench his insatiable thirst.

“Hold these for me,” he says, guiding your fingers to your panties. “Want to stroke my cock while I eat this gorgeous pussy out.” You hear the unbuckling of his belt, the sound of him shoving his fist into his slacks to jerk off. The vibrations from his moans tickle your skin as he nuzzles himself deeper into your arousal, practically drowning in it, flattening his tongue to smear his warm saliva all over. You whine in ecstasy, heedless of attracting any neighboring attention to your explicit blubbering.

“Come on my face,” he muffles, too busy lapping up your clit to pull away, fingers pumping in and out of you, shiny and sleek with your slick.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to reach your orgasm, pleasure jolting through your body while he works you until you’re overstimulated, twitching from the euphoria. He laughs softly, face glistening with your essence, taking a seat beside you. You watch him in a daze as he sticks his cum-coated fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean. “You want a taste, too?”

You nod, disoriented from your intense climax. He drags your bottom lip down using the pad of his thumb, mumbling, “Open.”

Obediently, you stick your tongue out for him, knowing fully well what he’s about to do. Your pussy throbs again, ready to be fucked for real by this provocative stranger you were so fortunate to meet tonight.

He grazes your open tongue, then spits in your mouth. “Swallow,” he demands, voice husky with desire. You do, making sure to gulp loudly, incredibly aroused and needy for his cock.

“Show me,” he whispers, opening his own mouth to mimic you. “Ah.”

You show him your tongue again, a dumb expression on your face while he inspects. Satisfied, he grunts, “Fuck, you’re bad. You’re a bad girl, aren’t you?” He reaches down to your soaked panties clinging to you. “Take these off.”

He slides out of his trousers, revealing briefs that barely conceal his obvious bulge. As you slip out of your underwear, he removes his, displaying his impressive cock. “You going to ride this cock now?”

Without a word, you nod. You’re already anticipating how fucking amazing he’s going to feel inside you. Your brain is jumbled with naughty thoughts of him taking you in all positions in every room of his apartment.

There’s a hungry gleam in his eyes as he watches you mount him. You hoist your dress up, stripping it from your body. He unclasps your bra, baring your breasts to him while he still wears his dress shirt and tie. For some reason, you want him to keep it on. Get it nice and dirty with slick and sweat.

You reach behind you to position him at your entrance. Once aligned, you slowly sink onto his cock, allowing yourself a few seconds to adjust to his size. Given his stature, it’s not surprising how big he is, both in length and girth. When you bottom out, he lets out a raspy fuck, holding your ass to squeeze your plush cheeks. “I’m ready whenever you are, princess. Like I said, take what you need from me. Milk me dry. I know you want to.”

Spurred by his provocative encouragement, you ride him, rocking your hips back and forth onto his lap, gripping his cock tight with your wet cunt. Forehead pressed to his, lids closed, jaw hanging open, experiencing the best fuck of your life. With a brief glance, you catch him watching you, a similar dazed expression on his face. You bounce on him faster, his dick pounding into you over and over again, determined to feel every inch you possibly can.

“Fuck, Kishibe, feels so fucking good,” you moan, directing his fingers down to your clit. “I want to come all over this cock. Make me come, Master.”

Bingo. His eyes widen as soon as it slips from your mouth. It’s the magic word. The trigger.

Without hesitation, he brushes his thumb ruthlessly onto your swollen bud. “Say it again,” he demands, pressing it hard as he massages it, eyes wild with lust.

“Fuck, make me come, Master. Make me come.” You’re riding him so fucking good, couch creaking, clutching his shoulders tight, his carnal stare locked on your every movement.

“Tell me when you’re close,” he growls.

“I’m close, I’m close!”

Suddenly, he pulls out, cock covered in your arousal, wet and stiff against his abdomen. Strings of slick cling to the hem of his dress shirt. You’re about ready to yell at him for teasing you. Before you can, he stands up, grabbing your wrist to lead you into the bedroom. His breathing is heavy as he points to the bed, hastily removing his clothes. “On your knees, ass up. I’m going to fuck you so good. Make you squirt all over my fucking sheets.”

The anger immediately subsides and you’re back to being eager again, knowing damn well that he means every fucking word he says. You do as he commands, wiggling your ass to entice him. He chuckles behind you. “I’m sorry for denying you earlier. I just really want to see this ass bounce on my cock like this.” He teases you with his tip, tapping your clit, sliding it along your pussy lips.

“You’re not forgiven,” you pout, growing impatient.

Placing a soft kiss on your lower back, he laughs again. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about this stranger you met mere hours ago, it’s that he is a man of his word.

He guides his cock into you slowly, stretching you little by little until you’re squeezing him, his entire length inside you. “Look at you, sucking me in again like you were made for me.” He starts thrusting, holding you steady to penetrate you deeper.

“So fucking good!” you cry out, fists bunched on his silky sheets, drool leaking from the corner of your mouth.

“I know, princess. It’s amazing for me too.” His heavy balls slap your damp skin with every brutal thrust of his hips, fucking you hard, dipping into your sweet spot until you’re woozy with pleasure. “You take it so good. So fucking sexy.” He tightens his grip on you, increasing his pace. “So fucking beautiful.”

You throw your ass back, arching your spine to get the perfect angle. With your cheeks bouncing obscenely against his thighs, you beg, “Spank me, Master. Spank me like a bad girl.”

Not wasting a second, his rough palm connects with your ass, the loud smack ringing in your ears. He spanks you again and again, your pussy clenching him tighter while you continue to thrust back onto his cock. You’re about ready to burst, desperate to reach your second orgasm after being denied earlier. You play with your puffy clit, electricity rippling through your body upon contact. Whimpering, you rub your bud faster as he pounds into you, cursing under his breath.

“Fuck,” he moans, staring at your ass jiggle after each fresh slap he delivers. “Come on my cock, princess. That’s it. Get it creamy. Just like that, fuck.”

Waves of pleasure sweep over you, the intensity of it causing you to tremble before him. In the midst of your climax, you plead for him to finish inside you, greedy for his cum. It doesn’t take long for him to fill you up, staying nestled deep in you as he releases his warm load, letting out a husky fuck.

He pulls out, his warm release leaking from your pussy, dripping onto his sheets. He ogles at the pornographic sight in front of him, pleased with himself.

“Like what you see?” you tease, lowering your torso and relaxing on the bed.

“You are a naughty, naughty girl,” he says, collapsing beside you. “Can’t believe I let you seduce me.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault? You were the one who offered to give me something good for my birthday.”

He raises a brow at you. “Did I succeed?”

You gaze at him, properly examining his appearance. Scruffy facial hair, eyes that are perpetually tired, the striking scar aligned with his frown. You find yourself wondering what his story is; someone this fetching must have a story.

“Considering the mess we made, I would say you exceeded my expectations.” You lay your palm on his firm chest, his now steady heartbeat lightly thumping against your fingertips.

“I’m glad to hear I wasn’t a disappointment.” He doesn’t take his gaze off you. Normally, you’d be intimidated by such intense eye contact. With him, it’s different. You feel safe. He places his hand on top of yours, rugged thumb gently caressing the skin of your knuckles. The two of you stay like this, enjoying each other’s presence in an easy silence.

“We can’t do this again,” he mutters, finally looking away from you. He turns onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, your hand still snug under his.

“Why not?” The shift in energy surprises you. This is not the typical pillow talk you’re accustomed too.

“I’ll keep wanting to see you if we keep this up,” he admits. Although it’s a sweet sentiment, he’s deciding to end it here and now, not even waiting until the morning like in a typical one-night-stand.

Matching his candid demeanor, you ask, “What’s wrong with wanting to see me again?” A strange feeling of unease swells in your chest, anxious for whatever truth he’s about to reveal.

He takes a breath before explaining, “I’m a Devil Hunter. The best in the world. My job is very dangerous. A young woman like yourself shouldn’t get attached to me. My life is expendable.” He avoids you while he speaks, eyes laser focused on the ceiling, barely blinking. It’s as if he doesn’t want to say it; rather, it’s part of a script, forced to recite the lines like it’s standard procedure. How often has he had to deliver this sober spiel to his ex-lovers? You start to pity him, speculating how detached he must remain to the outside world strictly because of his risky profession.

You continue to stare at him, letting the information sink it. The air is thick with a serious tension. It’s a sudden switch from the wild romp you just experienced. Choosing not to pester him further, you decide to lighten the mood. You scoot towards him, mouth skimming his ear, muttering, “Well, l didn’t really like you anyways.” The cold metal of his piercings contrast the soft warmth of your lips.

He turns to you again, the tension in his brows easing slowly as he gives you a small smirk. “Oh yeah?”

You nuzzle your nose against his. “Yeah.”

“Good. It’s better this way,” he says, planting a kiss on the forehead.

Sighing, you ask, “Can I at least spend the night?”

“Of course. I’ll even cook you breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean a cup of coffee with a splash of whiskey and a couple cigarettes,” you joke.

He chuckles. “I’ll throw in some eggs for protein, does that work?”

“Sure. I’ll take whatever I can get, since this is the last time we’ll be seeing each other.”

There’s a small smile on his lips as he gazes at you. A minute passes and he reaches for you, grazing your cheek delicately. You feel comfortable in bed with him. Protected. You snuggle into his chest, his arms wrapping you into a bear hug. Cozy in his embrace, you listen to his rhythmic breathing, lulling you to sleep.

~~~

In the morning, you wake up alone, tucked under the covers, clothed only in a dress shirt, barely buttoned. The bedroom door is wide open, the sound of a pan scraping on iron ringing in your ears and the inviting smell of food cooking wafting from the kitchen.

You spot a pack of baby wipes on the drawer next to you, noticing that your body is fresh and clean, opposite the sticky mess you fell asleep to. Next to it is a brand-new toothbrush and toothpaste. With these items in hand, you tip-toe into the bathroom, appreciating his thoughtfulness.

When you’re done, you study his bedroom for the first time, and probably last. There are no pictures hung anywhere, no personal touch to anything. Only small traces of a man whose entire existence is his job. Several ties scattered on his dresser next to a metal flask. A mini calendar on his nightstand with random scribblings of future work commitments. Hamper in the corner of the room, filled to the brim with white dress shirts, black slacks, and a couple of mismatched argyle socks. You’re slightly tempted to investigate some drawers to see the type of weapons a Devil Hunter of his caliber carries, but you don’t.

You lean against the doorframe, watching him in the kitchen. He’s in a plain white t-shirt with navy-blue pajama pants. As promised, he is cooking a batch of scrambled eggs over the stove, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand, spatula in the other. Looking domestic and sexy as hell. His words replay in your mind. You shouldn’t get attached to someone like me. You almost regret sleeping with him, knowing you’ll miss him after you leave.

Quietly, you stroll towards him until he notices you. When he does, he takes a sip of coffee and mutters, “Morning, princess.”

Positioned behind him, you wrap your arms around his waist, raising your heels to place a gentle kiss on the back of his neck. It’s only now that you realize how much taller he is than you. “Good morning, handsome. This is a pleasant surprise.”

“I told you I’d cook you breakfast, didn’t I?” He cranes his neck to face you, smirking.

“You did. I’m pleased to see you keep your promise,” you tell him, resting your cheek on his back. “You’re truly a man of your word. I think that deserves a reward.” You slide your thumbs under the waistband of his pajama bottoms, teasing him.

“If you tempt me, you won’t be able to taste this delicious meal I prepared for you,” he comments, setting his coffee mug down the counter and turning off the burner. His hand covers yours, maneuvering it over the growing bulge in his pants.

“Maybe I’m craving something else for breakfast.” You start palming his erection, suddenly hungry for him rather than the food.

He turns to face you, looking at you up and down in his dress shirt, your legs clenched together to hide your arousal. Still smirking, he says, “You’re making this much harder than it needs to be.” He slowly pushes you against the counter, running his fingers up your inner thigh, spreading your legs to expose your wet cunt.

You moan, anticipating another round of intense fucking, this time in his kitchen. It makes you want to christen every part of his apartment.

“How are you this fucking wet for me already?” He whispers, rubbing his thumb on your throbbing clit. “You’re so sexy, it’s driving me insane.”

“Kishibe,” you breath out, struggling to steady yourself. “Fuck.”

“I got you. Get on the counter for me, princess. Spread those legs so I can lick that pussy clean.”

With his hands on your waist guiding you, you hop up, opening wide for him. Knees bent and body folded forward, he starts licking your clit, palming his erection through his pants. You come within minutes, gushing over his tongue as it glides along your slit, nose digging firmly onto your swollen bud.

“Fuck me, Kishibe. Want that big cock inside me. Want you to fill me up again with your cum.” You hop back down, turning around and lifting the hem of the dress shirt past your ass, ready to get railed right there on the countertop.

“Not like this,” he murmurs, kissing you on the cheek. “Wait for me in my room. We’re going to have breakfast in bed together.”

Minutes later, a tray with a plate full of eggs, toast, and bacon set on top is temporarily forgotten as the two of you fuck on the other side of the bed. Him sitting up, back pressed to the headboard, you riding him until he spills inside you, causing you to orgasm again all over him.

You slump forward, resting your head on his shoulder, tired and satiated from another amazing fuck. Attempting to slide off him, he kisses you on the lips, his grip firm on your waist, unyielding. “Keep my cock inside you. Can you do that for me?”

In your blissful state, all you can do is nod, getting comfortable on his lap. He reaches for a slice of bacon on the tray, letting you take the first bites before he finishes it, doing the same for a piece of buttered toast. He feeds you forkfuls of scrambled eggs, using the same utensil for himself. It’s pleasantly intimate for two people who just met. Playing the role of a long-term couple, indulging in simple delights together, like breakfast in bed.

Plate cleared, both your bellies full of nourishment, you stay in this position, kissing each other leisurely, no rush to separate. He whispers your name, fondling your breasts through the fabric of his dress shirt that you’ve made yours. He repeats it a few more times, relishing how it feels on his lips before he never has to utter it again.

It’s bittersweet, knowing it’s ending as soon as it begun. You have no reason to be so smitten with him. You’re two people who hardly know each other. Still, you find yourself not wanting to say goodbye yet. Something’s there. A tiny spark flickering in the distance. Maybe you’re one of many women he’s done this with before. Maybe you’re nothing special. But in this fleeting moment, you let yourself believe it’s real.

The two of you reluctantly part after an especially long, passionate kiss. You dismount him, grabbing the wipes to clean up the mess that was made earlier. He gives you a smooch on the forehead before getting out of bed to exit the room, returning in less than a minute to hand you your outfit from last night. You briefly recall carelessly discarding it all over his living room floor right before you pounced on him. Is it too soon to consider that a fond memory? It hasn’t even been 24 hours and you’re reminiscing about him already.

He leaves you alone in the bedroom to change. Before you undress, you bring the sleeves of the shirt to your nose and inhale deeply, memorizing his scent. You almost want to keep this shirt as proof that this happened. That Kishibe is real.

Back in your black dress, you sit at the edge of the bed, waiting for his return. When he walks in, he points at the sash and tiara next to you on the bed. “You’re not going to wear that?”

Shrugging, you respond, “It’s no longer my birthday, so it feels silly wearing it. Just toss it.”

You check your phone, estimating the time of arrival for the ride you requested. Any minute now, they’ll be here, ending your short-lived tryst. He offers to drop you off, but you refuse, not bothering to explain that doing that will result in you dragging him into your own apartment and keeping him a willing hostage for another few hours. It’ll only make it more difficult to not get attached. He doesn’t question it, probably understanding this himself.

The ping from the app chimes through your phone. You stand up, smiling at him, swinging your purse over your shoulder. “That’s my ride.”

He walks you to the door, waiting for you to strap on your heels. Once they’re on, you smile. “I guess this is it. Thank you for a fun night.”

“Thank you too. This was fun.” It could be wishful thinking, but you hear a waver in his voice. Is he a little bit sad too?

You face the door, ready to turn the knob, when you feel his grip on your wrist. He spins you towards him, kissing you feverishly, his hand caressing your cheek, the other behind your neck. Yearning for one more moment of intimacy with you. He breaks away, resting his forehead against yours, eyes shut as he says goodbye with one last whisper of your name. You avoid his gaze as you exit, walking out of his life.

It’s better this way.

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