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seospicybin · 10 months ago

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THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.

PART I

Bangchan x reader. (s,a)

Chapters: Part II / Part III / Final.

Synopsis: Having issues to break up with your boyfriend, you seek help from the boy next door and the number one fuckboy in the area, Chan. (10k words)

Author's note: I went through a nasty break up a few weeks ago and this is basically just me trying to cope by being delulu about having a fuckboy Chan as a neighbor. Enjoy x

It becomes a habit now that Chan doesn't know where he is when he wakes up in the morning.

The first thing that he'll do is retrace everything to last night. He was DJ-ing at a club, had a few drinks in between, met a girl who was eyeing him the whole night, had a few more drinks, there was a little touching and a quick makeout session in the dark alley and people can guess what happens after that

So this is where he is right now, the girl's bedroom and he can recall everything that happened last night except the girl's name.

"Fuck!" Chan mutters under his breath.

Judging from how bright the sun is outside, he knows he only has a little window to make his escape so he quickly gets off the bed as calmly as possible. He then tiptoes around to gather his clothes and put them on without making any noise.

However, he fails at it as the head from his belt hits the bed frame and the clanging of metal meets metal echoing in the room.

The girl steers on her sleep and rolls over to the side, she brushes her hair away from her face, catching Chan putting his belt on.

The plan to make a quick getaway has come to a failure but he keeps his cool, continuing to buckle his belt and then plants his hands on each side of his waist.

"Morning," He awkwardly says with a forced smile.

"Morning," the girl replies with a smile then props an elbow against the mattress, sending the duvet sliding down her body and exposing her bare chest to him.

Chan might have been a little drunk when he met her but damn, his fuckboy radar works well even under the influence of alcohol.

"You're leaving already?" She asks, flipping her hair to the back to expose more of those beautiful mounds to him.

Chan has to tell his pervy brain to focus actively, he looks away and picks up his jacket from the floor.

"I promised a friend to help him move out today," He lies, then pretends to check the time on his phone, "And I'm kind of late."

The girl nods then twirls her hair around her finger, "Well then... when can I see you again?"

"I hope soon," Chan says with his charming grin that disguises the insincerity in his answer.

The girl smiles at that which confirms that the grin works, "But seriously, I can't wait to see you again," she says.

"I'll call you," he says because that's what he can promise her at the moment but whether he'll do it or not is uncertain.

"But you don't have my numbers yet," she says with her eyebrows wrinkled in suspicion.

"No, I'm sure you already did," he says, convincing her by scrolling the contacts on his phone.

"Yup. I have your numbers already," he lies again, showing her a random contact on his phone for a quick second.

"But my name is Thalia," she says, cleverly catching the name on the contact.

"Yes, of course, you're Thalia," he says with utmost confidence and his ultimate weapon of a dimpled smile.

The girl seems alarmed though. She sits up on the bed and clutches the duvet close to her chest, "We're going to see each other again, right Chris?"

"Yes," he answers without a beat, and at this point, lying is as easy as breathing to him.

"Can I get a kiss before you leave?"

"Sure," he says, coming around the bed to give her a quick peck on the lips.

The girl smiles when he lets go and watches as he walks to the doorway, "I'll call you, Tanya."

"It's Thalia," she corrects him with an apparent displeasure on her face.

Chan shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans and takes the time to properly bid her goodbye. Nothing a girl likes more than a sweet mouth and a little assurance, he'll give her exactly that.

"I'll see you soon, Thalia," Chan says with a smile.

"See you soon, Chris," and the girl naively believes him, if only she knew that this will be the last time they're seeing each other.

Yet again, Chan makes another successful getaway.

The warm weather of spring makes it a pleasant walk from the bus stop to his apartment building. He wants to stop somewhere for breakfast but his head feels heavy from the hangover, he just wants to go home as soon as possible, have a bowl of cereal then take an aspirin for the pounding headache.

In the lobby, he makes a quick stop to collect his mail and takes a quick check at it, sorting them out on the spot so he knows which ones he should bring upstairs.

From the corner of his eyes, Chan catches his neighbor, you with your boyfriend chatting by the elevator. He notices the gestures, the expression, and the whole interaction, it doesn't take a genius to know that something is going on there that the naked eyes can't see.

Chan throws the unnecessary mail into the trash bin nearby and walks to the elevator, hearing the little conversation going on between you and your boyfriend.

"...the waffles were delicious. We should have breakfast there again," the boyfriend says as he looks at you, "What do you think?"

"Yeah," you meekly answer while looking at the little screen that shows the floor the elevator is stopping in.

Chan tries to remain invisible but his eyes accidentally make contact with your boyfriend so he may as well make his presence known.

"Hi, neighbor," he greets, he knows your name but you seem to prefer to be called that way.

You do what you always do whenever you meet each other in the building, give him a quick judging look and a courteous smile.

"And hi neighbor's boyfriend," he greets your boyfriend next.

"Hi," your boyfriend greets back, "Chris, isn't it?"

"Yes and you are Lee," Chan responds.

"Right. So how was your Friday night?" Lee initiates a small talk.

"I believe it wasn't as good as yours," Chan playfully answers.

"Oh, we just stayed in and watched a movie, right baby?" Lee says, putting his arm around your shoulder.

All of a sudden, you take a step forward and say, "It's here."

The elevator doesn't chime until a moment later but you seem to be more than eager to get in. You turn around to give your boyfriend a quick hug.

"I'll try to leave early so we can have dinner together," Lee says with a quick kiss on the cheek.

"It's okay. Take your time," you say with a faint smile.

Chan quietly gets into the elevator and holds the door open for you, he tries not to look at what's happening in front of him not out of politeness but it's just painful to watch.

"I'll call you," Lee adds, catching your hand as you enter the elevator and kissing it.

"Okay," you say then wave your hand at him.

To help you get out of it, Chan releases his finger off the buttons and sends the doors sliding shut.

"Bye, baby," Lee says for the last time before the doors completely close.

It's just another awkward elevator ride with you and he'll usually try to endure it but after watching all that and trying not to say anything is hard, he can't help but impose.

He glances at you to check whether you're ready to hear about what he has to say but you always have the same stoic expression. Then it occurs to him that he has never seen you smile impolitely or out of joy, or even hear your laugh, but maybe after you hear what he's about to say, he'll get to see a different facial expression on you.

"Oh, man! That was painful to watch," he sighs as he keeps looking straight ahead at his reflection in the shiny furnace of the elevator.

There's no one else in the elevator so you're fully aware that he's talking to you but you don't respond until a while later.

There you go, with your judging look and stoic expression, looking at him as you say, "Excuse me?"

Chan doesn't want to sound rude but beating around the bush isn't his thing, he prefers to be straightforward. He knows it's all based on assumptions but he's pretty sure his judgements are pretty accurate.

He's going to just do it and lay out the facts, he turns to the side, then leans his back against the cold surface of the elevator.

"Your shoulder tightens when he called you baby and the fact you lied about the breakfast tells me that you didn't actually like his choice of restaurant," he pauses to let out a cynical chuckle, "the waffles weren't that good, I guess?"

When he wants to see a different facial expression on you, he doesn't mean seeing your angry one, but oh well, the damage has been done.

"Because I'm a good girlfriend that's why I let him choose the restaurant," you become defensive all of a sudden but that's an unconvincing answer.

"No, you let him choose out of pity," he simply remarks, "And just now, your nostrils flared when I pointed it out."

With all of these signs combined with his personal experiences, Chan narrows it out to one conclusion. He looks at you in the eyes and says, "You're about to break up with him, don't you?"

It looks like you've been slapped right on the face except that the slap doesn't come from someone, it's from the truth that comes out of Chan's unfiltered mouth and he instantly regrets it for meddling in in someone else's business.

"I'm sorry, but why are we having this conversation?" You ask, crossing your arms together in front of you.

"It's not like you're any better. You slept around, you're scared of commitment and now, sticking your nose at my business. You are the kind of person that I deeply despise!" You angrily say with your chest heaving.

It seems like you're saying all of those things about him out of anger because he sees right through you but now he knows why you always give him that judging look. He's the one who started it so yeah, okay, maybe he deserves that but that doesn't change the truth. The problem is what he said and your response, they're heading in the opposite direction.

"I think someone has her panties in a twist," Chan coyly responds.

"Look, there's nothing wrong with wanting to break up. That doesn't make you a bad person," he adds and decides to end the talk right there.

It gets quiet in this enclosed space and it's already suffocating as it is but how lucky that he has to patiently wait for the elevator to ride through three more floors to get out of here.

When the elevator finally dings open, Chan lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding but he's not the one in a hurry to exit both this space and the situation. He stays where he is and lets you out first.

When he thinks you don't have anything else to say, you stop right outside the elevator and look at him with a piercing gaze.

"Don't, for one second, think that you had any effect whatsoever on my panties!" You emphasize every word in anger, then storm off.

Know what? Maybe Chan should skip the bowl of cereal and take two aspirin instead. As for you, maybe you need to chill the fuck out.

Just because you've been neighbors with Chan for the past three years doesn't mean that you know each other on a personal level.

All you know about him is that he's a DJ which explains why there's always music playing in his apartment, he always wears a sleeveless top to showcase his muscles, and he always has a stupid grin on to show off the stupid dimples on his stupid face, an annoying Australian accent and from how many times you caught different girls taking a walk of shame out of his apartment, it's safe to say that he's the number one fuckboy in the area

So how dare he say all of that stuff in the elevator when he doesn't know anything about you at all? Moreover, what does a fuckboy like him know about relationships?

It shouldn't be hard to ignore because it's something you usually do but gosh, the memory of the conversation still vexed you a few days later.

Then it hits you that it bothers you so much because deep down, you know what he said is true. You've been wanting to break up with your boyfriend and hearing that comes from someone outside that relationship only solidified that thought.

There's nothing wrong with your boyfriend, Lee is nice, too nice even, and when you think about it, maybe that is the problem, he is too nice and that leads you to another problem, you don't know how to break up with him without hurting his feelings.

But you know who can help you with that? Someone who has a lot of experience in breaking up with people.

Oh, what a joy that you find the answer right across your door!

Before you get to ask for his help though, you're fully aware that there's another thing to do and there's no other way to do it but walk up to his apartment, knock on his door, and apologize.

As you're standing there in front of his apartment door, you're dreading it. All sorts of thoughts crossed your head like why did you have to be so riled up that time in the elevator? Why did you have to say that thing about the panties? Just why? Ugh!

Let's just get it over with, you mutter inside your head.

With hesitant hand, you knock on his door and then hold the urge to turn around and run back to your apartment. You let yourself take a step back as you wait for him to come for the door.

Do not open the door, do not open the door, you chant inside your head while tapping your foot against the floor. However, things are not always going the way you want.

The door swings inward and a second later, Chan appears with disheveled hair and he only has one arm in the sleeve of his t-shirt, then you spot a girl's shoes next to his feet.

Oh no, please don't say you're coming at the wrong time.

You reflexively take another step back but he grabs your forearm and then opens the door wider, showing you that there's a girl there.

"It's my neighbor, she's here to remind me about the tenant meeting," he says to her.

The girl looks at you rather suspiciously and crosses her arms together in front of her as she glares at Chan.

"No. Don't you dare try to get out of this, Chris!"

"But it's true. We have to leave now," Chan says, then gives you a look that tells you to lie along with him, "Right?"

Running a quick assessment of the situation, you're certain that Chan is trying to get himself out of it to avoid having a difficult conversation with the beautiful lady. You hate to be the accessory to his crime but if this means that it would help you earn his forgiveness...

"The pigeons!" You make up a lie on the spot.

"The pigeons are ruining our rooftop garden so we held this urgent tenant meeting," you add with what you hope is a convincing smile.

"Oh, those damn pigeons!" Chan heavily sighs with a phony expression.

The lie makes your throat dry and your cheeks hurt from forcing a smile, you have to keep it going as the lady considers whether to believe that the tenant meeting is true or not.

Chan grabs his jacket from the clothes hook and puts it on, "We'll continue this later, okay?" He says to her.

Without waiting for her answer, he gets out of the door and drags you with him to go to your apartment. Once both of you get inside, he immediately closes the door behind him and lets out a long sigh.

"Oh, wow!" He exclaims once he realizes that he's inside your apartment.

He allows himself further inside and leisurely walks around your apartment, checking your kitchen, trailing his fingers on your book collection on the shelf, and observing the potted plants lining up on the window sill.

He walks back to the middle of the room and takes another 360-degree look around the apartment, then nods in approval.

"So, this is what the inside of your apartment looks like," he says in a cryptic tone.

Not sure if he wants you to respond to that or if should respond at all. You choose to remain silent and only respond when his intentions are intelligible.

Chan then sits on the sofa, making himself comfortable, and looks at you, then at what you're holding in both hands.

"Is that for me?"

The jar of cookies you've been unknowingly holding in your hands is a token of apology and it is for him.

"Yes, it is for you," you say, handing it to him with both hands.

"I'm sorry about the other day," you sincerely apologize, but you know you have to let him know what you're apologizing for, "for what I've said to you. I'm terribly sorry."

"Well, since you're helping me with the uh... situation," he coyly says as he scratches his eyebrow, "consider us even."

See? That wasn't so hard. You feel bad for lying to the girl but at least, you've been forgiven.

"Thank you," you add with a smile.

Chan doesn't say anything else but opens the lid and takes a cookie out of the jar. He gets comfortable on the sofa, sitting slumped with his legs spreading wide, and then he takes a big bite of the cookie.

It doesn't take long for him to notice that you have something else to say to him other than an apology.

Before he gets to it, you force yourself to start speaking.

"So, Chris..." you call, then abruptly stop talking. You suddenly have a second thought about asking for his help.

"What's up?" He asks while chewing on his cookie.

It's at the tip of your tongue but your mouth feels like they're sewn shut. You clasp your hands together and muster up the courage to just blurt it out.

"Do you want something to have with the cookies?"

You swear you plan on asking for his help but somehow, your mouth saying a different thing.

"Milk would be nice," he answers.

"Milk. Yes, I have milk," you awkwardly say, slowly making your way to the kitchen like a walking dead.

You take a carton of milk from the fridge and while pouring it into a glass, you're scolding yourself for being so cowardly.

After taking a moment to take a deep breath and muster up the courage to ask, you walk back to the sofa with the glass of milk in hand. With a smile, you hand it to him.

"Thank you," he says, his eyes catching something in your eyes.

You immediately break the eye contact and take another step back, standing and watching him finish his third cookie then wash it down with a sip of milk.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm going to stay here until the girl leaves my apartment," he informs.

"Oh?" You meekly gasp.

"But I can leave if you're uncomfortable," he says as he sits straight on the sofa.

"No, it's fine," you shortly reply, "Take your time."

"Okay, thanks," he says, reclining back on the sofa and continues munching on the cookies.

You can't decide if he stays longer than you expected is a good thing or not. You use the opportunity to reconsider it and walk to the kitchen to get out of his sight.

"Do you need help or not?" You quietly ask yourself as you pour yourself a glass of water.

Why is it so hard? He's right there. All you need is to go and ask for his help.

The water sloshes out of the glass as you fill it too full and you reflexively back away to avoid getting water all over the front of your dress.

"Everything good there?" Chan asks in a slight panic.

That's it! Enough time has passed from overthinking it! You walk up to him and just do it.

"You're right," you blurt out, "I've been wanting to break up with my boyfriend."

Sensing that it turns serious, Chan slows down his chewing and puts away the cookie jar. You expect the I-told-you-so grin on his face but no, he looks saddened instead.

"Things aren't working out," you openly share with a sad sigh.

You take a seat on the ottoman facing the sofa and sadly sigh, "I've been wanting to break up with him for a week now but I just don't know how."

"How long you've been dating each other?"

"Three years," you answer.

"Wow," Chan lowly gasps in awe.

Three years is not a short time, he understands why you hesitate to break up and it isn't an easy decision either.

"I need your help," you hopelessly say, unintentionally becoming vulnerable in front of him.

"My help?"

"Help me how to break up with him," you further explain.

"Of all people, why me?" He asks in utter confusion.

It's hard to answer that without being rude, you decide to let him process the question until it leads him to the answer. After a while, he lets out a dry chuckle and nods, "Okay, yeah. Make sense."

Chan takes another minute to accept the fact that his help is needed because he knows how to break up with someone without feeling awful about it afterward.

"I guess you want to let him down gently?"

"Yes," you answer.

"Well..." he inflates his cheeks then lets the air out through his pursed lips, "You can break up with him through a text."

Which part of 'let him down gently' did he not understand? How is it a good idea to break up through a text? But okay, it's just one suggestion, you give him the benefit of the doubt for now. Who knows he'll come up with better suggestions.

"I'm sorry. No, I can't do that," you kindly refuse his suggestion.

"You can send it when he's sleeping," he adds.

Oh, God! He gives you an even worse suggestion instead of better ones. You know what? This is a bad idea and you regret asking for his help.

"I don't—" You stop yourself from talking and get up from your seat.

"I'll just check if the lady is still..." Your words trail off as you walk towards the door and check through the peephole first, then you get out of the door to check his apartment next.

"Hello? Excuse me?" You shout from the doorway but no one is answering you.

You take it the lady has left and walk back to your apartment to deliver the news to the rightful owner of the apartment.

"She already left," you tell him.

Chan lets out a sigh and closes the cookie jar, he finishes the milk to its last drop and then gets up from the sofa.

"Thank you for the cookies and the milk," he says with his signature grin.

"No worries," you reply, trying so hard to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Chan holds the cookie jar in one arm and takes a step closer to you, "if you need help on how to write breakup texts, I'm just across the hall," he says.

You don't respond to that but keep a smile on for him as to seem polite.

"And good luck!" He says with gentle pats on your shoulder.

The second he walks out the door, you collapse onto the sofa and dread it even more than before. Turns out, asking for his help is not helping at all.

The next day, you meet him as you collect your mail in the lobby and it's hard to ignore him when his mailbox is next to yours.

"G'day!" Chan greets you as he leans the side of his body against the wall while sorting his mail.

"Good day!" You respond and hurriedly walk toward the elevator. You push the button to summon it to the lobby and hope it comes soon enough for you to avoid talking to Chan.

Of course, things don't go as you want it. He comes just in time for the elevator about to arrive, he crumples a few letters in his hand into a ball and then tosses it into the trash bin.

"How did it go?" He asks.

"Pardon?" You nonchalantly respond.

Good thing that the elevator chimes open and you can pretend to forget about what he asked you a while ago. You get inside while clutching your mails in hands in front of you but it's not safe yet as you have to share the elevator ride with him.

"So... the break-up texts? Did you do it?" He asks again, going to the corner of the elevator and leaning his back against it.

"Chris, I think you can't just end a three-year relationship with a text," you put it as nicely as you can.

"Yeah, I reckon," he innocently answers.

It seems like Chan can't tell the difference between what is easy and what is right. It isn't a good idea in the first place to ask for help from someone like him who doesn't consider other people's feelings except his own.

"What are you going to do then?" He asks, shifting his weight on one leg.

Since his help is not helping at all, you have no answer to that yet. This should be something you have to figure out on your own in the first place.

"I'll figure it out," you not-very-convincingly answer.

Chan crosses his arms in front of him, making the muscles and veins on his arms more evident under the fluorescent light of the elevator.

"Lee seems like a nice guy," he remarks with a deep inhale of air.

Well, if you have to compare your boyfriend to Chan, then yes, Lee is a really nice guy. Lee excels in a lot of things, including how to treat a person with feelings.

"Yes," you settle with a simple answer.

"A drawn-out break up is only going to end in a big scene," he says, "Just saying."

Chan has a point. It's worse to prolong the pain for both you and Lee, you can't keep pretending that the relationship works and it's unfair that you keep Lee oblivious about all this.

"We can practice, you know," he offers.

"Practice?"

"On how you're going to break up with him," he explains.

He comes up with a better suggestion this time and is almost endearing even but again, he wouldn't know how a person with real feelings reacts to a break-up which makes you unsure if the practice would be any help.

The elevator is about to arrive anyway so you decide to skip on responding to his offer. Once it chimes, the doors part open and you take the first turn to get out with Chan getting off after you. You turn to the left to your apartment while he turns right. You take the key out of your pocket to unlock the door and push your way in while clutching your mail close to your chest.

"You know where to find me if you need help," Chan says just before you close the door to your apartment.

Hard pass, you answer in your head but you put on a smile for his kind offer, then close the door

Okay, you admit it. You were too haste when you said that you didn't need his help. You were doing fine for these past few days, you've been avoiding meeting your boyfriend to give you some more time to think of the best way to break the news to him until he calls you.

The phone rings and you just stare at it, considering whether to pick it up or not. If you pick it up, that means you have to lie to him and if you don't, it'll alert him that things are, in fact, not okay.

The latter seems like a better idea so you pick it up after taking a long, deep breath.

"Hi, baby. Am I calling you at the wrong time?"

Not entirely wrong but it would be nice if he didn't call you, you answer in your head.

"Yeah, sorry, I was in the bathroom," you lie.

"Coconut shrimp for dinner. What do you think?" he asks out of the blue.

"That sounds nice," you easily respond.

"I know you'll like it but, babe, do you mind getting us a bottle of wine on the way?

"I'm sorry?" You ask in confusion.

"For our dinner, remember?" he answers, "I'll cook tonight we'll be having dinner at mine."

You hardly paid attention to him because your mind was always elsewhere, you couldn't remember saying yes to the dinner but you did and it must be out of pity.

"No, of course, I remember, I'm just..." you rake your brain to think of something to say.

"I thought it was next week," you lie again with an awkward chuckle.

"You silly!" Lee says, "Aren't you glad that I called, huh?"

"So glad," you lie, again and again.

"I should start prepping the ingredients so they'll be ready when you get here," he says, his voice exuding enthusiasm.

"Okay."

"Don't forget the wine!"

"I won't."

"I can't wait to see you, baby," he sweetly says.

The lies are piling up so may as well add another one to the pile, "Me too."

"I love you, bye."

Don't think you can lie your answer to that, you gulp air, "Bye," you say to the phone, then quickly hang up.

Desperate times call for desperate measures and you don't know your desperate measure means knocking on your neighbor's door. Probably because you hate to admit that you need his help.

Not long after, Chan opens the door and his head pops out from the gap, "What's up?"

"My boyfriend just called and tonight, we'll be having dinner in his place," you blabber in panic.

It takes a second for him to process it then his face turns a little surprised, "What are we going to do then?" He asks in confusion.

You may be in dread but you catch the error in his question, "We? Now, you got your panties in a twist," you tell him.

"Shame on you!" He responds with a sly grin then opens the door wider and shows himself dressed in nothing but a white towel hanging low around his hips.

He puts one arm against the doorframe and leans close to you as he says, "Cause I'm not wearing any panties right now."

You should have noticed it from his wet hair and the beads of water rolling down his neck, and now that you're seeing the whole of it, your eyes immediately following where the beads of water going, they're going down the outline of his abs and eventually, to where they're all gathered as his pelvic bones leading down to one way: down south.

However, your instinctive reaction goes against what you're actually feeling inside.

"Ugh!" You groan and turn to the side, "Put some clothes on and I'll see you at my place!"

Without waiting for his answer, you rush back to your apartment and close the door behind you as fast as possible, then you rest your back against it.

The images of his naked body flashing through your head, his glistening wet pale skin, and how some parts of his body are blotchy red around the neck and chest. You get flustered all of a sudden, you immediately press the back of your hand to your cheek and you can feel them heating.

"Get it together!" You scold yourself.

After waiting for almost fifteen minutes, Chan finally comes knocking on your door like it's a musical instrument.

"Are you dressed?" You ask with your hand on the doorknob.

"Hardly," he jokes.

You peek through the peephole and see that he's already dressed to what you can say is his usual attire of dark short pants with a matching sleeveless top, showing off his bulging biceps. You open the door to let him in and he coyly walks in, treating your place like it's his own, sitting on your sofa with his legs spreading wide.

"Okay, so, why am I here?"

You stand in front of him with your hands clasped in front of you, "I've been lying to him the whole phone call and honestly, I've been doing it since the moment I decided that I want to break up with him, and I... I don't think I can lie to him again."

It's easy to admit your mistakes to him because he barely knows you and his opinions about you won't matter that much to you.

"I need to do it tonight," you hopelessly say.

"I take it you need my help to practice your break-up speech?"

You hate that he guesses it right but it's also convenient that you don't have to beat around the bush to ask for it. But first, you try to explain the situation as much as possible so he has ideas on what you're facing here.

"Lee is a man of many emotions and I'm not exaggerating when I say he'll likely cry," you inform.

Chan's forehead wrinkles as he processes this piece of information then stifles a nod. It seems like he still has no idea what you want him to do about it.

"I think it's less painful if you acknowledge the dumpee feelings," you blatantly explain.

"Okay, I got you. Let's practice!' He says, sitting up straighter on the sofa and then putting his hands on his knees.

It's just a practice but your anxiety takes over you not just mentally but also physically as your palms get sweaty. You wipe them down your jeans and take a breath.

"Lee," you call him by your boyfriend's name, and even though it's weird that you're roleplaying, you continue, "I want to break up with you."

Chan looks at you and gets quiet for a moment, "Wow. I'm in utter shock and it makes me very sad to hear that," he says with a rather serious tone.

Not the kind of reaction Lee would likely pull off but that will do if you decide to continue with it.

"I'm fully aware that this is so sudden but I've been thinking hard about it for some time and I think this is a decision that I should take," you say and you know it's a practice but you feel something caught in your throat.

"I'm sad and I need time to process it, but I'll be okay," he calmly says.

Chan gets the tone right but you believe breaking up wouldn't be this easy in real life, especially when there are real feelings to protect. To be honest, you're not ready to face the truth that you may hurt those feelings tonight.

"I think that went very well," Chan says, returning to his default settings.

"Yeah, I think that's it," you meekly say.

The worries and sadness are drawn on your face that Chan can easily see through your veiled expression, "If Lee is as nice as you said he is, then you shouldn't worry much," he says.

He waits until your eyes meet his to continue, "He may get surprised or shocked even, but he'll come around and respect your decision."

You can't believe that those words are coming out of his mouth or that he even tries to comfort you, but you appreciate it. Maybe his heart is still there, he just doesn't let it control him most of the time.

He gets up from the sofa and walks up to you, he takes your hands, ignoring how cold and sweaty they feel in his, "You got this," he assures you.

"Thank you, Chris," you sincerely say with a sad smile.

It is time to stop torturing both you and Lee with lies and forcing yourself to believe that the love is still there. It's time to accept the truth that if you can fall in love, you can also fall out of love.

It's a surprise that Chan worries about things that aren't his business. He's been playing some music to distract him from his head but he keeps the volume low because he doesn't want to miss hearing the sound of the elevator that will tell him any signs that you're back from the dinner.

Eventually, he tires himself out from worrying and falls asleep on the sofa. He startles always close to midnight after hearing the knocking on his doors.

Half disoriented, he trudges his way to open the door and finds you there, surprisingly, looking nice in a white cotton dress and your eyes dry.

But from the way you let yourself into his apartment, forgetting your impeccable manners and walking with shoulders slumped and carrying your shoes in your hands, he takes it that you did it.

"So... how did it go?" He carefully asks, following you as you're making your way to the sofa and then sitting on it.

You let a heavy sigh and your shoulders slumped even more, "At least, there's no crying," you answer with a sad smile.

Chan is unsure of how to react to that, is that a good thing or a bad thing? He just stands there with his arms crossed on his chest, thinking out loud.

"And even though it was ending... it was incredibly meaningful to me and I'm going to miss him," you say with your lips trembling.

Oh, no, Chan knows when a girl is about to cry, he quickly finds a remedy to it, one that he knows always works wonders for him. He runs to the kitchen and brings a bottle out of his alcohol stash, then hands it to you.

"Let's have a drink!" He says, realizing that he forgot the glass.

"Wait another second, I'll get the glass," he says, sprinting to retrieve two glasses from his kitchen cabinet.

When he returns, he sees that you're chugging the alcohol straight from the bottle. You gasp and then wince from the bitter aftertaste of it.

"Okay, straight from the bottle it is," he says, popping onto the sofa next to you.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and then hand the bottle to him in which he wastes not another second to take a sip of it.

"The thing is... I really care about him but he wanted to get married, and I'm just not ready for that," you share with your eyes blank and looking at the void.

You take a deep breath but it seems like it only sends your heart sinking deeper and deeper, and making it harder for you to breathe.

"And if I'm not ready with a guy as great as him then what if I'm never ready?" You say, turning your head his way with your eyes glassy, pooling with tears.

"What if that was it..." you lift your shoulders then drop them as you let out a low sigh, "my one chance at love?"

The tears start streaming down your face like a bursting dam and Chan knows he can't do anything about it but let them out.

Hearing your words makes him think about what his idea of love is. He used to think that it was something he could get whenever he wanted it but now he knows that he's wrong, because that's just a short-lived infatuation, just some sort of meaningless connection.

From you, he learns that love is a privilege that not everyone can experience.

"What if I never get a second chance?" You ask him the question that he doesn't know the answer to.

"I don't know. I'm just sad," your voice cracks, then you break into tears.

Chan is quick to catch you into his arms and offers you his embrace. He knows he can't do anything about this sadness but he can try to soothe the pain, he's placing gentle rubs on your back as you cry into his chest.

The cry is resounding in this space, echoing the sadness back to you and it makes him inexplicably sad too, and he gets the urge to make it stop.

"It's going to be alright," he murmurs at the top of your head.

You look up with your eyes wet and red with tears caught in your lashes, "Is it?" You croak.

He doesn't know when but he knows for sure that time heals everything.

"It will be," he answers with a gentle caress of his knuckle on your wet cheek, "eventually."

Your eyes tell some more assurance for him and he doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he leans in, then kisses you.

To his surprise, you kiss him back and he knows you're doing it because you seek his comfort and he wants to give you exactly that. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you that closeness you seek. He kisses you ever so softly because he knows he's kissing a broken heart and he wants to mend it. He can taste your sadness and the bitterness of it, and also the relief underlying all of it. As he kisses you, he lets his heart open just enough to take some of that sadness away from yours.

As the kiss deepens, the sadness withers, and something else emerges. Chan loses in it for a bit until he realizes what you're trying to do with your hand that reaches for the front of his jeans.

He abruptly detaches his lips from yours and shakes his head, "No, we can't do this," he says.

As much as he fancies you enough to have sex with you, he knows better not to do it when you're not in your right mind and your judgments are clouded with sadness. The last thing he wants is you waking up in the morning full of regrets.

"I want this, Chris," you croak.

"No, we can't," he adamantly says and takes your hand away from him.

"You're sad. You do want this," he says in an effort to put some sense into you.

You roughly crumple the front of his t-shirt and pull him close, "I want– No, I need this, Chris," you say to him with your eyes dark like two bottomless pits.

"Please?" You plead as a tear rolls down from the corner of your eye.

This is the most hopeless he ever heard of you and it breaks his heart. You said it yourself, you need this and he knows what you mean by that. You need the distraction, you need him to take this pain away even just for a fleeting moment, moreover, he can't break what's already broken.

He takes your hand off of his clothes and puts it in his, he leans in until his forehead is pressed against yours.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks once again.

"Yes," you answer without a beat.

That's all Chan needed to hear, he inhales air and puts an inch between your faces. He then tenderly holds your face with both hands and looks at you, unsure where to start but maybe, he can start by making those tears coming out of your eyes.

Chan dabs the tears pooling in the corner of your eyes with his knuckle and without the slightest of hesitancy, he places a gentle kiss on each of your closed eyelids and before you can open them, he captures your lips in a kiss.

Sex is not something new to him but Chan knows that this time is not about physical fulfillment, but a way to offer comfort and hopefully, to also mend your broken heart.

He takes his time to strip away every piece of clothing on you until you're bare, lying on the bed with nothing but sadness that fills your heart.

He touches you with utmost gentleness, using just his fingertips to feel the softness of your skin and you're so pliant, sensitive to his touch.

To make it fair, Chan takes his clothes off as well before joining you on the bed, caging you in between his arms and hovering only inches away above you.

"Touch me," he says to you, taking your hand and placing it on his shoulder.

He then glides your hand down his neck and chest, he makes you feel every inch of his pale skin with him. However, when he looks at you, your eyes remain on his.

"You feel so warm, Chris," you lowly mutter.

He brings your hand close to his mouth and kisses it, then crashes his lips on yours.

The gap between your bodies becomes non-existent as you keep pulling him close, he relents by lowering himself on top of you and props an elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you.

Lips locked, hands around each other, bodies pressed together and the temperature keeps on rising in the room. Chan makes you feel every part of his lips brushing and gliding over yours. He skillfully parts your mouth open with his tongue so he can kiss you deep and hard, yet slow until you run out of breath.

At the same time, his hand makes its way down until his fingers land on your delicate flesh. He touches it tenderly, running his fingers between the folds, and drags them upward to rub on your bundle of nerves.

"Ah..." you moan against his lips as you curve your hand around his neck and pull him incredibly closer.

Judging from it, he knows he's doing it right and he should continue, he applies gentle pressures on your clit, making you drenched and that way, he can slowly put a digit inside of you.

You let go of his kiss to let out a moan and your head falls onto the pillow as he puts another digit into you, two fingers pumping in and out of you.

Chan intently watches as your face contorted along to the pleasure, how your jaws slack open and breathless moans keep spilling out of your parted mouth.

The way you clench around his fingers makes him impatient to feel you and how tight you feel around him, and the noises you make oh, they're his new favorite tune that he wants to keep listening to until his eardrums burst.

He glances down as he pulls his fingers out of you and finds them thickly coated with your essence, it doesn't stop him from shoving them into his mouth and lick them clean.

Chan holds you by the chin to keep you still as he kisses you, "Give me a second to get a condom, yeah?" He says to you and you nod in answer.

He makes his to the bathroom and pulls the drawer open to take a condom. To save time, he decides to put it on right away, he tears through the foil packet with his teeth and rolls the rubber down his hard length.

On the way out, he catches his reflection in the mirror and gets reminded that this is not about him. Tonight, it's all about you.

He returns to the bedroom, finding you still lying in bed naked and hugging yourself. He climbs onto the bed and lowers himself on you, letting you absorb his body heat to warm you.

Craving for another taste of it, he goes down and plants his mouth on your cunt next, tasting you right on his tongue.

You're squirming as his tongue laps over your wetness, drinking in on your essence and then using it to circle on your clit.

He's not the only one getting impatient and asking more of it, you both want it and there's no wasting time anymore. Just before he takes it to the next part, he places a long, tender kiss on your clit and immediately brings his mouth to yours again so you can taste yourself on him.

"I'm going in, mmh?" He says as he endearingly brushes your hair away from your face.

You hold on to his shoulder as he settles himself between your legs, aligning his cock with your entrance but before that, he rubs his length between your folds, lubricating it with your essence.

Your hands fly to your chest, hugging yourself again as you lowly moan to his hard length rubbing over your clit and then, pushing its way into you.

"Goodness fu—" he can't even finish his sentence without breaking into a satisfied groan.

It's just the tip but he can already feel how tight you are around him, he's scared yet excited to push more of him into you. He reorganizes his breathing and rests his hand on your abdomen to do it.

Chan looks down to check and he still has a little more of him that needs to be inside you, he sharply inhales air through his nostrils and pushes the remaining length in one quick push.

"Oh..." you breathlessly moan as you're squeezing on your breasts.

Chan allows himself to take a moment to adjust himself to being inside you and you seem to also need time to adjust to his size because you feel so incredibly tight around him. It makes him wonder how this little thing can take him so well.

He takes your hands away from your chest and puts them around his shoulders, that way he can put his body on top of you, lips locked with yours again in no time as you wrap your legs around his waist, sending him deeper inside you.

As he takes a breath in between kisses, you hold his face and look at him with a different kind of sadness in your eyes which only reminds him that his initial plan is to make it go away.

He starts thrusting into you, wanting to fuck this sadness out of you. He wants to make you think of nothing but how his cock fills you full and how good he is fucking you right now, and soon, he's going to make you feel nothing but immense pleasure.

"Ah... ah... ah..." you moan for every thrust going into you and the skin-slapping sounds echo along with it in the room.

Chan plants his mouth on your breasts to contain his grunts and groans while keeping the steady motion of his hips pulsating against you.

A hand reaches for his chin and forces him to look at you, instantly engaged in eye contact with you. He continues thrusting into you with eyes looking deep into you, they're no longer looking like bottomless pits, they look like deep oases that he wants to dive into.

The next thing he knows, Chan finds himself deep in you, not just physically but also connected with you in a way that he's never experienced with anyone else until now. He feels barer than he already is and instead of shutting himself off, he embraces it and lets you in.

Soon enough, he finds himself lost in it and fully connects himself to you in a way that lets him know how it feels to love without fears or insecurities holding him back, without worrying if it's being reciprocated or not, to love wholly and completely.

"Oh," you let out a broken moan and that's when he notices that you break into tears again.

Chan abruptly stops moving, afraid that something he does is hurting you without realizing it.

"No, keep going, keep going," you tell him with your voice hoarse.

He needs to make sure to continue, he cups your jaw and asks, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, please, keep going, please," You repeatedly nod and plead with your teary eyes.

He wants you to stop crying, he wants you to stop thinking about what hurts you and start to see him as he tries to take this pain away from you. His body picks up the pace, going impossibly fast and also taking himself close to his high.

Your eyes are screwed shut, your breath is ragged and your hands are gripping onto his shoulders, overwhelmed by the pleasure that he brought on you.

The moment he's sure that you already come to your climax, he allows himself to let go and uses all of his strength to give you a few more thrusts until there's nothing left in him but waves of pleasure that wash over him.

"Chris..." you softly call and then pull him for a chaste kiss on his lips, "Thank you."

Chan's face hovers only inches above you as he softly gazes into your eyes, you look so fragile and open like a wound and he's just glad that he can make your heartache gone even just for a while.

"Shh..." he stops you from talking by running his thumb over your lips and then kisses you with his heart wide open. He lets this beautiful feeling pour out of him and into you.

"No, thank you," he mutters his gratitude between kisses.

Thanks to you, he experiences something he's never felt before with someone else, something new, something pure and real, something that feels a lot like love.

When he wakes up in the morning and finds you're not there, it hits him that maybe it is love but Chan is not ready to admit it yet.

A week passes and Chan hasn't seen you ever since that night.

He can't tell if you're avoiding him or needing the space and time to piece yourself back from the break-up, he hopes it's the latter. Gosh! Let him be right.

Regardless of what happened, he can live with the fact that you despise him but it would be sad to know if you choose to go down the path of believing that you're not going to find love again.

Chan just needs to know if you're doing okay, that's what matters for now.

Fortunately, the two of you have been neighbors for quite a long time to learn your routine and knockabouts. He knows what you like to do on a Saturday morning, he goes to the lobby and chats with the concierge as he waits.

At the first sight of you entering the apartment building, his heart palpation, and in all honesty, he's just so happy to finally see you after a while.

Are you not seeing him there? Or you're just pretending which only confirms his initial thought that you've been, in fact, avoiding him.

You're walking through the lobby carrying a bag of groceries in your arm, you skip checking on the mailbox and go straight to the elevator. It just happens that the elevator is vacant and the doors slide open after you push the button.

Chan decides to take the risk, sprinting to get into the elevator before the doors close. You already despise him so a little more hate shouldn't be a problem to him.

"Morning, sunshine," He greets you with his dimpled grin.

"Good morning," you politely reply without looking at him.

Things are going back to normal and he should be glad, right? At least, you're back to your usual settings of looking stoic and acting polite, and the best thing about it is you're still talking to him.

"I should learn to avoid people from you. You're good at it," he pushes it a bit just to see if he can crack through this facade.

"Excuse me?" Your head turns his way and with your eyes widen, "I have not been avoiding anyone."

Chan holds the urge to smile for successfully getting your attention and rests his back against the cold, metal furnace of the elevator, "Are you sure?"

"Well, we're seeing each other now," you tell him.

"That's because I know you like to go to the farmer's market every Saturday morning," he says at the same time, admitting that he knows about your routine.

You slowly turn your body facing him and squint your eyes at him, "You've been keeping tabs on me?"

"It's my favorite pastime activity," he shamelessly answers then pokes his cheek with his tongue.

"It's better than watching porn," he playfully adds, something that he knows will annoy you the right way.

"Ugh!" You groan as you look straight ahead.

Oddly enough, that's what he misses the most about it, interacting with you and seeing your reaction to his antics, but you, especially.

"Don't be so uptight," he coyly says.

He takes a step closer to you and puts his hand on the handlebar, "it's not like we haven't slept together or anything."

You let out a scoff and hoist the strap of your grocery bag higher on your shoulder, "I'm shocked you even remember," you say.

You turn your head next and your eyes immediately lock in a gaze with him, "I figure I'm just a low notch on a very long bedpost," you add.

"Are you calling me a man whore?" Chan says, feeling offended.

You take a step closer to him and daringly stare back into his eyes, "I didn't call you a man," you answer with a sly smirk.

There's a few seconds of silence until Chan realizes what you just said to him but you know what? He's going to give it to you, for now.

He looks at you and smiles, "Touche!"

You both look at each other and at the same time, burst into laughter, and it keeps going until the hilarity subsides with each passing second.

Is this real? Did you just poke fun at him with a beautiful smile on your face? Did you really laugh and the sound of not only echoing in this enclosed space but also in the back of his mind? Did he just see a different facial expression on you? Either way, he likes it and he likes how it makes him feel.

The elevator chimes open and soon, the doors part open. He lets you get off first and then takes his turn after, he gets a little disappointed as you both are going in the opposite direction.

"Hey, Chris," you call as he's only a couple of steps away from the door of his apartment.

His heart palpation again but he keeps his calm and then slowly, turns on his feet to face you, "Yes?"

"I'm cooking curry for dinner and I know it'll be not as good as the one you always ordered but you can come and..." your hand is fiddling with the strap of your grocery bag as you speak but your eyes remain steady on him, "see if it suits your taste."

And did you just invite him for dinner? Him, the neighbor you despise so much?

Chan acts coy and scratches the back of his head, he holds the urge to answer right away. He has a reputation to uphold and he reckons, you have to at least wait a minute for his answer.

"Yeah, okay, let's see," he nonchalantly answers but his smile tells otherwise.

You crack a laugh and nod, walking to your door with the keys jangling as you're unlocking it.

Chan thinks that's the end of it until you call his name again, his heart leaps this time and he almost flies his way to you.

"Yeah?"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you what are we," you say with a smile then get inside of your apartment.

That's funny because, after that night, he was hoping that you would ask him that as most girls do but that's where he is wrong, you're not most girls, you are his neighbor whom Chan is secretly in love with.

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zfmda · 1 month ago

Text

current boyfriend prank on jjk men !

summary: you decide to take part in the tiktok trend where you call them your ‘current boyfriend’ to see how they react.

includes: satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, takuma ino, choso kamo, ryomen sukuna, fushiguro toji.

warnings: only toji’s part which contains suggestive content and swearing.

satoru gojo

you set up the camera in front of you, preparing to do a food review. or at least that’s what your boyfriend thinks. adjusting the angle until the frame captures the both of you, the tall, snowy-haired sorcerer leans against the counter already digging into the box of mochi you brought home.

“hi everyone! today i’ll be reviewing all these new flavours of mochi with my current boyfriend-”

you don’t even get a chance to react before satoru freezes, mid-bite.

“CURRENT BOYFRIEND?!”

you blink at him with an innocent look, stifling a laugh. he looks at you like you just said something so unbelievable, it has him questioning if his six eyes picked up on the words that came out of your mouth. “yeah?” you offer sweetly. “what about it?”

“i’m literally the strongest,” he says confidently but with a slight pout, a childish expression on his face. “who’s replacing me, exactly? suguru? be serious.”

“you’re so dramatic, ‘toru.”

you glance down at him to see him sulking, cheek pressed dramatically against your arm as his next words come out partly muffled.

“i hope your next boyfriend can teleport you and pay for all your snacks like your current boyfriend does.”

“satoru..” you laugh, trying to brush him off gently. “it’s a prank.”

“i hate this prank, i’m never doing another tiktok again.” he pops the rest of the mochi into his mouth, chewing like nothing happened. “also, this one doesn’t taste sweet enough. six out of ten.”

five minutes later, he’s the one asking if the lighting was okay and whether his hair looked cool in the video.

suguru geto

suguru's sitting beside you on the couch, long hair still slightly damp from his shower, loosely tied back. he’s leaned into the cushions, scrolling through his phone while your legs rest comfortably over his lap.

you tilt your phone forward, framing the both of you in the shot without warning him. he doesn’t notice right away, too lost in whatever he’s reading.

“so today i’m going to answer all the questions i received on how i met my current boyfriend.”

there’s a pause and then he speaks without looking up from his phone.

“you want to rephrase that?”

your lips twitch, suppressing a grin. “ rephrase what?”

“current boyfriend.” he repeats, a dry but amused expression on his face. the phone slips from his hand to the couch, forgotten, and he turns his full attention toward you.

“mhm.” you hum, keeping a neutral expression on your face.

“you’ve got other boyfriends lined up or something?” his voice is low and steady like he’s genuinely asking. but the weight of his stare suggests he already knows the answer.

“it’s just a trend suguru, a joke.”

his head tilts slightly, a dark strand of hair falling across his cheek. “i wouldn’t call that a joke.” he replies, not necessarily cold but in that quiet and teasing way that’s reserved only for you.

he studies you for another second before reaching over to gently brush a thumb along the edge of your jaw. “i’m not just current.” he says, almost like he’s stating a fact rather than seeking reassurance. “so don’t speak like i am.”

“i know.” you respond with assurance, the playful tone you started off with fading away into a more affectionate one.

suguru leans back against the couch again, one arm resting behind you, fingers absentmindedly brushing your shoulder.

“good,” he says, calmly. “then start the video over. and get it right this time.”

you do as he says, pressing the record button again.

kento nanami

placing the phone carefully against the wall, you step back, making sure that you and nanami are angled so that it captures both of your figures.

before recording, you convinced your boyfriend, nanami, to film an outfit check for your tiktok. it had taken surprisingly little convincing to get him to film a quick outfit video with you. he hadn’t questioned it, only nodding once before following along, as he always does. motivated less by interest in the task itself and more by the simple knowledge that it makes you happy.

“so this is mine and my current boyfriend’s outfit for tonight.” you say, voice bright as you spin in a slow circle, showing off your dress, matching the detail on nanami’s tie.

nanami doesn’t say anything, you can see the cogs turning in his head as he tries to think whether he heard you right. the silence stretches just slightly longer than usual, as though his thoughts have paused.

you repeat yourself, deliberately now, accentuating the word so that he doesn’t miss it. “my current boyfriend’s outfit is so cute, it matches with mine.”

this time nanami looks at you, an eyebrow lifting up, his expression unreadable.

“current?” he speaks finally, voice low and a little flat.

you turn to face him, trying your best to not let out the laugh you’re holding onto. “yeah?”

he holds your gaze for a moment. “i wasn’t aware the position was temporary.”

the confusion etched on his face nearly breaks your composure but you end up smiling anyway.

“it’s a trend,” you explain, already laughing as you reach out to touch his sleeve. “i was messing with you.”

nanami doesn’t respond right away but you take note of the way the corner of his mouth twitches and he glances at the camera, then back to you.

“i see.”

leaning in close, you grin. “don’t worry, i’m pretty sure the position’s filled permanently.”

“good.” he says simply, eyes already drifting back to the screen as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in close to show off both of your outfits.

takuma ino

you adjust your phone on the stand, making sure both you and ino are in frame. he already has his hands out in front of him for the tiktok where you suggested doing the ‘never have i ever’ trend.

“you sure this is going on your main account and not the spam one where you post unhinged edits of me?” he asks while looking at the camera, eyes trained on the screen.

you roll your eyes and press record, launching straight into the video.

“hi guys, i’m with my current boyfriend and today we’ll-”

not even halfway through the sentence, ino twists toward you, blinking like he’s misheard something. his mouth drops open, full of disbelief.

“current?!” he repeats, eyes wide.

“what?” you question him, keeping your expression blank, like what you just said was completely normal. but when you see the look on his face, your laugh spills out before you can even pretend to keep it together.

“i’m not your current boyfriend. i AM your boyfriend.” he defends himself, keeping his eyes on you.

“yeah but you’re still my current boyfriend.”

“i’m just a backup for you, aren’t i? i don’t matter… just someone you see on the side.” he jokes, exaggerating his words to seem hurt, although the grin on his face gives it away.

you flick his forehead which makes him jut out his bottom lip in a deep pout, giving you those puppy dog eyes that he knows you can’t resist.

“anyways.. so me and my current boyfriend are going to do the never have i ever trend.”

“babeeee-” he drags the words, almost whining. ino comes closer to the screen, face filling up most of the frame as he pouts. “my current girlfriend is so mean to me.”

choso kamo

the camera is set up in front of you and choso. you’re both at the table, makeup products scattered messily between the two of you. choso sits beside you, posture a little stiff but willing, eyes flicking over the products with curiosity. he doesn’t do things like this often, not understanding social media trends, not really. but he said yes the second you asked, like he always does when it’s something that makes you happy.

a soft click of the lipstick cap echoes faintly as the recording begins.

“hey guys, i’m here with my current boyfriend, who’s going to be doing my makeup!”

choso doesn’t understand. he looks at the camera, brows faintly drawn together, and realises that what you just said sounds different. it feels different. his head tilts slightly as he continues observing, gazing up at your face before interrupting.

“what is a current boyfriend? am i not your boyfriend already?” he asks, voice soft and you can’t help but feel guilty for pranking him. he’s too sweet.

“what do you mean?” you ask, keeping up the act as he places his chin on your shoulder.

“i don’t like how that sounds.” he murmurs in a quiet tone, shifting his gaze from you to the camera then back to you.

it becomes impossible to hold the act any longer, a smile spreading across your lips. leaning in, you reach up to place a kiss on his cheek. “i’m just joking, cho.” you smile. “it’s a prank—a silly one.”

relief passes over his features and the smile that follows is barely there, but visible. his shoulders ease and he nuzzles closer, forehead brushing the side of your neck.

“okay. just checking.” he stays there, content as if to say thank you, for not meaning it.

“next time… maybe you can just call me your only boyfriend?” he suggests gently and you laugh, nodding.

“deal.”

ryomen sukuna

it was your idea to film a tiktok of you showing your boyfriend the new nails that you got done. the king of curses had no interest in tiktoks, let alone something as mundane as a nail reveal but after enough pestering he begrudgingly agreed.

Well, agreed might be generous. he sat down with his eyes closed, much to his dismay, arms crossed.

“so, my current boyfriend is going to review my new nails.” your voice comes out in a nervous chuckle, waiting for the moment he processes what you just said.

sukuna doesn’t even entertain your silly idea of a prank, opening his eyes and immediately reaching out to end the video.

“this is what you dragged me out of a meeting with uraume for?” his voice is low and sharp as he looks at you with annoyance.

“i didn’t do anything?” you reply, hoping to seem innocent as you hit the record button again.

“current boyfriend,” he scoffs, repeating your words like he’s tasting something foul. “what other boyfriends do you have? i’ll have them burnt to ash.”

the way he says it, so certain and completely serious makes you believe him. you have to stop the video, because the prank was a fail.

“you’re ruining my video, ‘kuna.” you whine hopelessly, although you can’t help but laugh at the subtle jealousy radiating off of him.

“well,” he says, voice low and unimpressed, “next time you’ll know not to try any of this nonsense again.”

his gaze flicks downward, landing on your freshly painted nails. a deep crimson that matches his eyes. a flicker of something unreadable passes through his expression and without a word, he reaches for your hand, his many fingers wrapping around your wrist.

“these suit you.” he mutters, inspecting them closely. “they should. i picked the colour, didn’t i?”

you smile, watching him examine your hand. the contrast between his reputation and the way he holds your fingers so carefully isn’t lost on you.

“you’re such a softie.” you tease, voice warm.

the look he gives you in return is stern and dangerous.

“say that again, and i’ll make you regret it.”

toji fushiguro

the room is quiet, soft with the hum of the evening. you’re laying in bed with toji, just enjoying the moment, sheets still warm from where the two of you have been lying, tangled somewhere between comfort and laziness. toji’s arm is thrown over your waist, relaxed, his breath brushing the back of your shoulder, steady and slow. the peace is disrupted when a thought crosses your mind. the tiktok trend you saw earlier won’t stop playing on a loop in your head. the one where people prank their partners by calling them their current boyfriend.

your phone is already in your hand, positioning it so that the screen is tilted just enough to catch the both of you in frame.

“i’m with my current boyfriend, toji.”

“the fuck you mean, current boyfriend?” toji doesn’t even shift right away. just opens one eye, then slowly lifts his head, eyes narrowing slightly as they cut to the camera.

you glance at him in nonchalance, fighting the laugh that rises in your throat. “what? that’s what you are.”

he raises a brow, propping himself up on one arm, the sheets falling low on his torso. “yeah? since when am i temporary?”

shrugging your shoulders, you play it off with innocence. “didn’t say you were. just… current.”

“mm.” he leans over and grabs the phone from your hand, setting it down on the nightstand without breaking eye contact. “gimme a name, then.”

“huh?”

“of the next one.” he says flatly, before continuing. “i want to know the name of who else fucks you this good.”

you fold under his gaze instantly, face growing flustered from his crude words as you reach out to push at his shoulders. “it’s a prank toji! relax.”

he catches your wrist easily and tugs you closer, voice low near your ear now. “try another trend like that and see what happens.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #ino takuma #ino takuma x reader #choso kamo #choso x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk x you #zfmda

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itoshiierae · 2 days ago

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Hihi !! I was wondering if you could write Rin fluff about how he is super clingy and needy but acts like he isn’t and gets super shy and embarrassed when you point it out !!

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

ᡣ𐭩 notes: rin claims he’s not clingy but he gets grumpy when you’re more than two feet away.

ᡣ𐭩 cw: flufff <33 rin being soft & clingy but he’s in denial lmao (not proofread)

you’re on the couch, just minding your own business while scrolling through your phone with your legs tucked under a soft cozy blanket— when rin suddenly throws himself down beside you.

or more like, on you.

one arm slung around your waist, chin nudging your shoulder, as the soft strands of his hair brush against your cheek with every quiet shift. the weight of his body slowly melts into yours like he’s been carrying it all day only to fall apart here.

you blink. “uh… rin???”

“hmm...” he mumbles it into your sleeve.

you glance down at him as you stroke his hair before asking, “everything okay??”

he nods but he’s still not moving.

“…do you wanna cuddle?”

“no.”

you raise an eyebrow. “uhh, babe… you do realize you’re clinging onto me like a koala right now, right?”

he scoffs, pulling the blanket higher around the both of you now. “….shut up.”

you have to physically stop yourself from laughing because he’s trying so hard to deny it while his whole body is practically wrapped around you. it’s always been this way with him.

he’s constantly pretending he’s not clingy, even when every part of him says otherwise. you see it in the way his fingers hook lightly under the hem of your shirt— like he just needs to hold onto something to stay grounded. and in the way his forehead keeps nudging against your neck, sleepy and instinctive, almost as if his body’s just naturally drawn to yours.

“you swear you don’t like cuddling… and yet here you are, refusing to let me go.”

“… i do not,” he mutters, face now buried in the crook of your neck, like he’s embarrassed by the truth.

you run your fingers through his hair, voice laced with amusement. “right… so this isn’t you seeking comfort and affection from your beloved girlfriend?”

“i said shut up…”

“you could’ve just straight up asked me for a hug, rin.”

he groans, the tips of his ears already turning pink. “…you’re annoying.”

you press a kiss to his cheek, even as he half-heartedly turns away like he’s embarrassed to want it so much. “you’re clingy,” you say again, smiling against his skin.

“i’m not—” he mutters, though he still hasn’t let go.

“you’ve been latching onto me like a koala for the past five minutes, and you still won’t admit it?”

he doesn’t say anything right after— because deep down, he knows you’re right. but well… it’s not like that stops him from clinging to you anyway.

──★

later that night when you roll over to grab your charger, rin instinctively tugs you back to him. his arms wrap protectively around your waist as his legs tangle with yours— and even with his eyes still closed, it’s obvious he knows you tried to move.

you whisper, “sooo… definitely not clingy, huh?”

he doesn’t answer. but the way he tightens his grip around you??

yeah… you already know the truth & he’s just too shy to admit it.

#bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock rin #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x you #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi fluff

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serapharua · 21 days ago

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୨୧ 一 ENHA WITH A DISTANT IN PUBLIC & AFFECTIONATE IN PRIVATE PARTNER . . !

enhypen 0T7 — GENRE : imagines headcanon fluff comfort — PAIRING : gn.reader — WARNING : none — REQUESTED : by 🖤anon! ☆ — enha masterlist

HEESEUNG :

Heeseung notices it, of course.

The way you go still when someone glances over. How your hand pulls just slightly out of his when a group walks by. How your voice shifts, measured, careful, whenever eyes are on you. He doesn’t take it personally. He knows the difference between discomfort and disinterest.

And honestly? He gets it.

Heeseung has always been good at reading rooms, slipping in and out of presence when needed. He understands how the world can feel too sharp sometimes. How affection can turn into performance under the weight of other people’s attention.

So, he doesn’t push.

He doesn’t reach for you when you don’t want to be reached for. Doesn’t pout or ask why you won’t kiss him on crowded streets or lean on him in front of the members. He just… waits.

Because he knows what happens when the door clicks shut and the world finally stops watching.

You move first, always. Shedding the stiffness like a coat. You walk over, drop your phone somewhere without caring where it lands, and climb into his space like gravity only pulls toward him. No fanfare. Just a quiet kind of closeness that never needs to be asked for.

Tonight is the same.

He’s sitting on the couch, legs stretched out, scrolling aimlessly. You curl beside him, tucking your knees under your chest, chin resting on his shoulder.

“Hey,” you say, voice softer now.

He glances at you, already smiling. “Hey yourself.”

You don’t explain. You don’t need to.

Heeseung shifts, lets his arm fall around you, pulling you in with the kind of ease that only comes with knowing someone deeply. You fit there like a thought he’s been having all day.

“I know I’m weird about it,” you say eventually, not quite apologizing.

He shakes his head. “You’re not weird. You just don’t do public affection. That’s not a flaw.”

You go quiet. Then: “You never act like it bothers you.”

“Because it doesn’t,” he says simply. “Not when I have this.”

You glance up. He’s not being dramatic. Just honest.

“I’d rather have the real you when no one’s watching,” he adds. “Than a version of you shaped for everyone else.”

Your fingers slip into his, slow and easy.

He doesn’t need a crowd to feel wanted. He doesn’t need a hand held in public to know it means something. This, your quiet leaning, the way you talk more when it’s just him, the way you seek him out like instinct, this is what he sees.

And it’s enough.

More than.

JAY :

Jay’s never minded quiet love.

He’s always noticed the little things, the way you pull back when people are around, how your fingers twitch like they want to reach for his but think better of it. The way your voice stays level and your eyes unreadable when someone jokes, “Do you even like your boyfriend?” He just smiles at those moments, calm and unfazed. Because he already knows the answer. He doesn’t need you to show it for the world to see; he feels it where it matters.

Tonight is no different, another quiet reminder.

You’re standing in his kitchen, sleeves hanging over your hands, hair tousled from the hoodie you stole. Jay leans against the counter, watching you prepare two mugs of tea with a kind of silent focus that makes him smile. And then, without a word, you bring one over, set it gently in front of him, and tug lightly at the hem of his shirt like it’s something you’ve done a thousand times before.

He raises a brow, playful. “Want something?”

You shrug, trying not to smile. “Just you.”

Jay laughs under his breath, eyes softening. You’re always like this behind closed doors, quiet but full of affection in ways only he gets to see. There’s no show, no need for grand displays. Just small gestures that say more than words ever could.

He reaches for your hand, weaving his fingers through yours. “You’re kinda cute when you pretend not to be attached to me in public.”

You roll your eyes, but you don’t pull away. “I’m not pretending.”

“Sure,” he teases, a smile tugging at his lips. “You just accidentally end up next to me every single time we sit somewhere.”

You nudge him with your shoulder, but the smile you wear now is genuine, relaxed, easy.

Jay squeezes your hand gently. “I don’t mind, you know.”

Your expression shifts slightly, a flicker of uncertainty behind your eyes. “That I’m… distant?”

“That you’re you,” he says simply. “I don’t need you to hold my hand in front of everyone to know how you feel. You make me tea. You steal my clothes. You always fall asleep on my side of the bed.”

You snort, and he can feel your body relax against his. “That’s just because your side’s warmer.”

“Exactly,” Jay grins. “You love me for my body heat.”

You lean your head against his arm and settle there, quiet. Content.

“I just like keeping it to ourselves,” you murmur.

Jay nods, brushing his thumb over your knuckles with a tenderness that doesn’t need words. “Then that’s enough for me.”

No pressure. No performance. Just two mugs, shared warmth, and the kind of love that exists not to be seen, but simply to be felt.

And with you, it always is.

JAKE :

Jake doesn’t need the spotlight. Not when it comes to love.

But sometimes, when you brush off his hand in public or dodge his playful attempts to get you to laugh around the others, there’s a quiet sting. Not quite hurt, just that subtle ache that comes from wanting to share something sweet with you and knowing… not yet. Not here.

Still, he never pushes.

He knows you well by now. Knows how to read between the silences, how to catch the affection in your smallest habits. Just because you don’t show your feelings in front of others doesn’t mean they’re not there. He feels them. Always.

Like tonight.

You’re sprawled across his couch, legs tangled with his, wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and poking lazily at the bowl of popcorn he made for movie night. The lights are dim, the TV plays something soft and forgettable, but neither of you are really paying attention.

Jake’s arm is slung loosely around your shoulders, his fingertips tracing the hem of your sleeve. You shift closer, settling against his chest with a long, quiet sigh.

“You okay?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You nod slowly. Then, softer, “I saw the way you looked at me earlier.”

Jake blinks. “What way?”

“When I didn’t hold your hand at dinner.”

He pauses, just for a moment. “I guess… yeah. I noticed.”

There’s a beat of silence, then your voice, smaller now. “Does it bother you?”

He smiles, tender and sure. “Not really. I mean, I love holding your hand. I love being close to you. But I love you more than I love people knowing it.”

You shift to look at him, eyes searching his. “Even if I don’t show it the way you do?”

Jake cups your cheek with one hand, thumb brushing gently across your skin. “You show it. Just not where everyone else can see. You always save the last dumpling for me. You send those random texts like ‘drink water’ or ‘wear a jacket.’ And you fall asleep on me every time we watch a movie.”

You blink. “That last one’s not intentional.”

He grins. “Still counts.”

You huff a quiet laugh, but your smile lingers, soft and warm at the corners. “I do love you, you know.”

“I know,” he says, and there’s no doubt in it.

He pulls you back into his arms, his voice low now, as if the moment is too full to speak above a whisper. “I don’t need the world to see it. Just need you to feel it.”

And you do.

So you stay there, wrapped in the hush of the room, in the warmth of him, letting his presence anchor you. Because with Jake, love is patient. Quiet. Golden.

SUNGHOON :

Sunghoon notices everything.

The way you always stand just far enough apart when the cameras are out. The polite smile you offer when someone mentions his name, even though you don’t meet his eyes. The way your arms stay folded when others might link theirs, your voice light but distant, like you’re somewhere else entirely.

To anyone else, it might seem like you don’t care. But Sunghoon knows better.

You always wait for him when the schedule ends. You remember how he takes his coffee. You send him songs you think he’ll like, even if you never follow up to ask what he thought. And that’s enough for him, because it’s real. Quiet, but real.

He never asks for more. Never reaches for your hand in public or expects a label you’re not ready to wear. That’s not how this works, not with you. But he still watches. Still understands.

He notices the way you shrink slightly when someone teases you about your lack of affection. The way your shoulders go stiff when love becomes something to display. So he never pushes. Just stays beside you, steady, patient, until the day ends and the door clicks closed behind you both.

Like now.

You drop your keys on the counter and turn without hesitation, walking straight into his arms like it’s second nature. Like this is what you’ve been waiting for all day. His hands settle at your back, grounding and familiar.

“You were quiet today,” you murmur into his hoodie.

“So were you,” he replies, voice even.

You pull back slightly, eyes searching his. “Was it okay? The way I… sort of ignored you?”

He shrugs, gentle. “You didn’t ignore me. You were just being you.”

You watch him for a moment, trying to find the catch, but there isn’t one. He’s not waiting for you to explain. He’s not asking for more than what you already give. He just wants you to be here.

“I know I’m not affectionate in front of other people,” you admit, voice a little uncertain.

Sunghoon reaches up to brush your hair from your face, fingers lingering with quiet care. “You don’t owe them anything.”

“But you do deserve someone who—”

“I want you,” he says, cutting you off, but not unkindly. Just certain. “Not a version of you that performs for everyone else.”

Your breath catches, then releases, slow and soft. His thumb traces your jaw once, then again, a soothing rhythm against your skin.

“And besides,” he adds, a faint smile pulling at his lips, “you’re affectionate here.”

You blink. “I am?”

He nods. “You always hug me before bed. You talk more when it’s just us. You do that thing where you sit next to me just close enough that our shoulders touch, even when there’s space.”

Your eyes drop, a quiet warmth rising to your cheeks. “That obvious?”

“To me, yeah,” he says simply.

Then Sunghoon leans in, his forehead resting gently against yours, the world narrowing to just this, the hush between you, the way his voice softens to match it.

“I don’t need everyone to see how you feel about me. I just need you to keep feeling it.”

You don’t answer. Not with words. Instead, you reach for his hand, your fingers lacing with his like they were always meant to.

And that’s all he needs.

Because with Sunghoon, love doesn’t need to be loud. It’s quiet, deliberate. It shows up in the spaces no one else notices, in the pauses, the gestures, the silence. And there, it speaks louder than anything else ever could.

SUNOO :

Sunoo can feel the difference.

Not just when you flinch away from casual touch in front of the others, or when you change the subject the second someone teases him about you. It’s subtler than that, etched into the way your laugh tightens when there’s company, how your eyes scan the room before brushing his hand away. A hesitation, not of love, but of fear. Of being seen too closely.

At first, it stung.

Not in a loud or dramatic way. Just a quiet ache, tucked into the corners of his chest like an unanswered question: Do you feel the same? Do I make you uncomfortable?

But then he started to notice the other things.

The way you always drift back near him, even if your hands stay to yourself. How you never forget which side of the booth he likes, or how he takes his iced coffee. The way your texts always come first, even on your busiest days, Are you home safe? Did you eat?, when anyone else would have expected to be asked instead.

And when it’s just the two of you?

You’re someone else entirely. Not hidden, not guarded, just soft in a way only he gets to see.

Like tonight.

You step through the apartment door, toss your bag aside without a word, and cross the room in a straight line to where he’s curled up on the couch. The lamplight casts a soft halo around him, and your hand finds his before you even sit down.

You don’t say anything. Just curl into his side, fingers slipping between his, your body easing into the shape of his like it’s the only place that fits.

Sunoo lets you take his hand, lets you find comfort in the silence.

Then, with a small nudge to your shoulder, he breaks it. “So…” His voice is light, playful. “Still pretending you don’t like me in public, huh?”

You groan, face burrowing into his shoulder. “It’s not like that.”

“I know,” he says, grinning. “But I had to get my dramatic line in before we get all serious.”

You laugh, muffled, genuine, and then, more quietly, “It’s just easier to not show it when people are watching. I don’t like feeling on display.”

Sunoo hums, resting his cheek lightly against your head. “You don’t need to explain. I mean it.”

You shift to look at him, cautious. “Really?”

“I mean, would I love it if you held my hand in front of everyone?” He lifts your intertwined fingers with a soft swing. “Sure. I’d be lying if I said no.”

There’s a flicker of guilt in your eyes, a faltering of your expression, but he squeezes your hand before you can spiral.

“But I like this more,” he says, firm and kind. “I like knowing this is real, even if no one else gets to see it.”

You let out a breath, then squeeze his hand back, an unguarded gesture that says everything you haven’t been able to.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t care,” you murmur.

Sunoo shakes his head before you even finish. “You didn’t. And you don’t have to say sorry for protecting your heart.”

He leans in, presses a kiss to your cheek, light and smiling, nothing urgent about it. Just reassurance, wrapped in affection.

“You’re mine either way,” he whispers, words feathering against your skin. “I don’t need an audience for that.”

And in the quiet that follows, you tuck yourself under his chin, limbs tangled, and he wraps you up like he’s done it a thousand times before.

Because with Sunoo, you never have to perform. Not for the crowd. Not for him.

He never wanted a show.

He just wanted you.

JUNGWON :

Jungwon doesn’t chase your affection, not in public, not where the world can see.

He notices things, of course. He notices the way you shift a step to the side when someone nudges you toward him with a knowing smile. The way your hand instinctively pulls back when it brushes his in a crowded hallway. The way your voice lifts just a little too brightly, takes on a practiced ease, whenever too many eyes are on the two of you at once.

But he never takes it personally.

Because there’s a quiet kind of language that only he seems to hear.

Like how you always wait until he’s done speaking before leaving the room. Or how your gaze lingers on him when no one’s looking, a softness there you wouldn’t let anyone else catch. Or the way you hesitate at the doorway before going, as if some part of you doesn’t really want to go at all.

Those are the things he holds on to.

And in the stillness of your shared moments, when the doors are closed and the lights are low, that’s when you’re most yourself. Most his.

Like tonight.

The front door shuts with a soft click, and for a moment, you just stand there, keys still in hand, your shoulders drawn tight beneath your jacket. The evening was long, filled with conversations you couldn’t quite find your way into, laughter you couldn’t fully share. And now, you’re quiet. Worn thin. The kind of tired that’s more about people than it is about time.

Jungwon doesn’t call out. He doesn’t move toward you. He just waits.

He’s leaning against the counter, arms folded loosely across his chest, watching you with that gentle patience he’s always had. The kind that never asks more of you than you’re ready to give.

You don’t speak, not at first. But your eyes meet his, and whatever tension was left in your posture seems to ebb, slowly, like a tide drawing back. You cross the room in a few quiet steps, and without a word, you fold yourself into his arms.

It’s not dramatic. It’s not performative.

It’s just you. Here. Finally unguarded.

Your face presses into the crook of his neck, breath soft against his skin. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong. He doesn’t need to.

“I hate how I freeze up,” you murmur, voice muffled. “It’s like… I want to be better at this. At being with you. But when people are watching, I can’t.”

His hands settle at your waist, warm and steady, tracing slow circles through the fabric of your shirt. “You don’t have to be anything more than you are,” he says. His voice is quiet but certain, like truth wrapped in calm. “Not for them. Not even for me.”

You breathe out slowly. It catches in your chest at first, but then it loosens, unraveling with the quiet comfort of being understood.

“I just don’t want you to think I’m ashamed,” you whisper. “Or that I don’t care.”

At that, Jungwon leans back, not to let go, but just enough to tilt your chin up and meet your gaze. His eyes are soft, serious, unwavering.

“I’ve never thought that,” he says. “Not once.”

You search his face, like you’re still waiting for something, some sign that it’s okay to believe him.

And he smiles. Not wide. Not showy. Just real.

“I don’t need the world to see it to know it’s real,” he says. “I feel it. Every time you look at me like this. Every time you stay, even when it’s hard. I don’t need more than that.”

Your eyes sting, just a little. Not from sadness, just the ache of finally being seen without having to explain yourself. You nod, then curl closer again, burying yourself in his warmth, fingers clutching lightly at the fabric of his shirt.

“I love you,” you whisper, like a promise you were finally ready to say out loud.

Jungwon presses a kiss to the top of your head, his hand steady at your back.

“I know,” he murmurs into your hair. “I love you too. Just like this.”

And that’s enough.

Not perfect. Not polished. Not loud.

Just you, and him, in the quiet that always tells the truth.

NIKI :

Niki’s never needed a lot of attention, not from crowds, not from strangers, not even from you when you’re out together. Big gestures were never really his thing.

So he doesn’t mind the way you keep your distance when the others are around. How you walk beside him but never quite close enough to touch. How you laugh at the group’s jokes but go quiet when they turn toward teasing, especially when it’s about you and him.

He sees it. He just doesn’t take it personally.

Because there’s a difference between what you show the world and what you save for him, and Niki? He’s always liked having the secret version.

Still, the teasing comes.

“Does your partner even like you?” Jungwon jokes one afternoon, raising an eyebrow after you brush past without so much as a glance. There’s laughter, playful jabs from the rest of the group.

Niki just shrugs. Grins.

“Yeah,” he says. “They do.”

He doesn’t elaborate. Doesn’t try to explain how he knows.

Because later, after the noise fades, after the world stops looking, you come home.

And that’s when everything changes.

You kick off your shoes without ceremony, drop your bag where it falls, and spot him instantly, sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, scrolling lazily through his phone. You don’t say anything, just cross the room in a few quiet steps and fold yourself down beside him like gravity brought you there.

His arm slips around your shoulders without thinking, already shifting to make space as you tuck into his side, forehead pressed to the warmth of his hoodie.

“Took you long enough,” he mutters, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips, soft, unmistakable.

You grin into his chest. “You missed me.”

“I always miss you,” he says easily, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You pull back just enough to peek up at him, your voice a little lighter. “Even when I act like I don’t know you in public?”

There’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he reaches up, brushing your hair gently back from your face. “You don’t act like that. You just… don’t like being watched. I get it.”

You hesitate, searching his expression. “But it doesn’t bother you?”

He shakes his head, not even for a second. “Not even a little. Honestly?” His lips quirk into a smirk. “I kinda like it.”

You blink, confused. “Like what?”

Niki leans in, forehead brushing yours. “That no one else gets to see you like this,” he says. “It’s like I’ve got this whole version of you that’s just mine.”

You bury your face in his hoodie again, groaning quietly. “You’re the worst.”

“You’re obsessed with me,” he says, completely unbothered.

You don’t answer, but your hand finds his, fingers slipping between his like it’s second nature. And that says more than enough.

A beat later, he hands you the game controller without asking, already queuing up your favorite show. You huff a laugh, still curled into him.

Niki presses a kiss to the top of your head, easy and familiar. Like he does it all the time. Like it doesn’t matter that no one else ever sees.

Because the truth is, he doesn’t need the world to recognize what you have.

He just needs this.

The quiet way you return to him. The weight of your body leaning in. The warmth you don’t share with anyone else.

You don’t have to shout it to prove it. You don’t even have to say a word.

Because in this quiet, in this closeness, he already knows.

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pr1nce-jm · 1 month ago

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𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 — 𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢

— based this off of a dream i had the other day; idol!yoongi x best friend!reader — yoongi is seeking some feedback for his new track and the only person he trusts for quality control, is you.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 1,389

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — fluff! almost friends to lovers, yoongi is sweet, affection, physical touch, words of affirmation

it wasn't unusual to just exist in yoongi's presence whilst he worked on music. he'd sit at his computer, slouched in his chair headphones lazily draped over his ears, fingers tapping at the keys on his keyboard as he endlessly looped the same section of music over and over again.

he would do this for hours while you entertained yourself; either catching up with emails or as much as you hated to admit it, probably doom scrolling on social media. your conversations over the span of a couple of hours usually consisted of you calling out his name, followed by a distant but acknowledging grumble, you asking him a question which he would answer with another disengaged exhale.

today, however, he seemed particularly irritated. not easily discernible; but you could tell by the way he shifted in his seat, the abnormal number of frustrated exhales, and the moment he suddenly thrust himself back and cursed under his breath, pressing his head into his hands. it was difficult to fight off the urge to ask "are you okay?" which was threatening to escape your lips, as you knew he'd just glance at you nonchalantly and utter a succinct, blasé "yes."

you were reclining on a couch not too far away from his setup. his long, dark hair was neatly swept back by his headphones, except for a few odd strands which draped over his forehead, occasionally sticking to thin veil of sweat beginning to coat his skin. his eyes just wandered the screen intently, although there was a tired glaze over them.

"can you do me a favor?" he asked softly, casually, turning his head toward you. you blinked. that had to be his daily word count used up all in one go.

his eyes were soft, mouth slightly ajar with a subtly curve to his lips. you didn't know why he was smiling, especially when he looked so frustrated just moments ago. maybe it was the way you looked: lazily sprawled out on the couch, limbs wrapped around a blanket, sleepily scrolling through your phone.

"hmm?" you murmured softly, unaware of how tired you had become. though grateful for the break in silence as you were probably only moments away from unconsciously dropping your phone from your hand and falling asleep.

there was a slight chuckle in his voice. "can you give this a listen?" he asked softly, a faint rasp coloring his words; likely from hours of silence, and maybe the fact that he hadn't taken a sip of water in just as long.

yoongi removed the headphones from his head, shaking his hair back into place as he did, lightly grasping them in his hand. he blinked at you again, letting out a gentle exhale that bordered on a laugh, eyes crinkling when he noticed you hadn't even budged.

being a night owl, it didn't bother him that it was creeping into the early hours. the sun had set long ago. you, on the other hand, had gotten far too comfortable on his couch and were only just managing to stave off sleep.

"come here, bring your blanket." he mumbled, his eyes still crinkled with amusement, the corners of his lips pressing into his cheeks in a tender smile. yoongi continued to watch you fight your way into an upright position, his attention unwavering.

if you hadn't of been so tired, the way he was staring at you so intently would have made your hands sweat, but you were too focused on standing up; which you eventually did, slowly pottering over to his side as he slid the headphones over your ears, gently adjusting your hair with his slender fingers so they didn't get in the way.

"why are you asking me? i'm not a producer," you sleepily quipped, adjusting the blanket that you had draped over your shoulders. "why don't you send it to pdogg or something."

"no, you're not," he stated softly. yoongi gently placed his hands to your waist and guided you to sit on his knee, pressing his chin onto your shoulder as he leaned forward, hovering the mouse over the play button, "but your input is important to me. you don't have to understand music to know if it sounds good."

you could've sworn you could feel your cheeks flush with heat, either that or you were getting too warm from the blanket.

he pressed play, and the silence of the room combined with the almost audible pounding of your own heart was swiftly replaced with bass.

sleepily, you found yourself subconsciously leaning back into the warmth of yoongi. he didn't pull away or resist. one hand rested gently on the side of your thigh, whilst the other affectionately hooked around your waist, holding you comfortably on his knee.

the song had so many elements that screamed yoongi, while still feeling fresh and different. it was the kind of track you'd listen to with headphones on, back against the mattress, eyes closed.

it was so immersive, you had almost forgot how close yoongi was, until you felt his warm breath on the side of your neck, his chin resting comfortably on your shoulder as he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side.

eventually, the song came to a stop. he used the hand that had been softly resting on your thigh to pull back of the cup of the earphones from the ear closest to him. "well? what did you think?" he uttered softly, a hint of apprehension in his tone.

"yoongi - i, i mean, it's just incredible-" you started, before feeling a short gust of warm air on your neck as he softly exhaled in a laugh. he eventually pulled away, reclining back in his seat, and the immediate loss of closeness and warmth left you feeling a little hollow.

"you don't need to be sarcastic," he mumbled, though you could hear the smile in his voice.

"i'm not. friend to friend," you said, almost tasting the bitterness of the word friend on your tongue, knowing how giddy and anxious you felt around him at times. "this song is beautiful. i, i have nothing else to say. it's perfect."

you turned to look at him, feeling a little uneasy under his intense, affectionate stare. "that snippet at the end - the rain and the laughter," you started, "is that from when-"

"we were at hangang park," you both said at the same time, laughing softly.

yoongi's hand unconsciously made itself comfortable on your thigh, his thumb absentmindedly grazing back and forth. "even though i told you to bring an umbrella. you were so soaked. i mean, we both were..." he spoke fondly, stumbling on his words slightly as if he was just now remembering that he got wet too; like you were the only one who really mattered in that moment.

"i didn't realise you still had that video. that was a while ago." you chuckled, reminiscing on yoongi almost keeling over belly-laughing as you were absolutely sodden, sat on a picnic blanket trying to shield yourself from the rain in between laughter. he had his phone out recording you as the heavens opened from above and a torrential downpour assaulted you both. yoongi, however, was under the luxury of an umbrella 'this is what happens when you don't listen to my advice.' he said between ragged giggly breaths.

with perfect comedic timing, the wind swept the canopy of the umbrella inside out and he lost his grip, it rolled down the grassy bank and hurled itself into a nearby bush. and this was the point of the video you heard overlapped on the song; you laughing at the wind taking revenge for you, and yoongi laughing at the absurdity of it all. you both laughed until it hurt, absolutely soaked through, cold, damp and filled with a euphoric sense of happiness.

"you always notice the little things," he murmured, brushing astray strand of hair from your face. his voice quiet, almost reluctant before he added with a subdued smirk. "maybe that's why i keep you around."

you smiled, feeling your heart flutter but saying nothing, letting the moment hang between you for a beat.

"what's the song called?" you queried, smile lingering on your lips as the memory remained in the forefront of your mind.

"only you."

536 notes · View notes

missadangel · 2 months ago

Text

MAKE HIM DISLIKE LOVE YOU

Harry Castillo x Reader (The Materialists)

Chapter 6: Truth or Dare

prev chapter series masterlist next chapter

Chapter Summary: “What about me?” asked Pride. “Shut up,” replied Jealousy. Lust laughed hard. You finally get that you can’t run from your feelings anymore, but what the hell? Or are you too late?

Warnings: 18+ (smut, MDNI) kinda romantic comedy stuff, fluffy, angst, lying, soft and caring Harry Castillo, Lucy as his ex, John as Lucy's ex, wealth, expensive gifts, drinks, money, cars, language, sexual tension, oral sex, p in v sex, kissing, slow burn, power imbalance, I might have missed some warnings; I will update them in due time.

Chapter Word Count: 12,5k, oops I did it again!! HOT (SMUT) CHAPTER ALERT! , feelings!!! fluffy, rom-com, lust, passion, jealousy, dirty talk.

authors note: Thank you all for your support, asks, comments, reblogs and likes. I appreciate each and every one of you! Love you all!

Getting out of bed in the morning was a total struggle. The memories from last night felt like a heavy weight, making you feel crushed. You thought you knew how you felt, but then again, you weren’t so sure. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

You definitely needed to talk to someone, or maybe even see a therapist.

But you couldn’t chat with Zoe yet; you’d come home late the night before, and now you had to rush off to work. Perhaps you could catch up with her when you return later that evening.

Zoe was still sprawled out on the couch, her ankle too painful to even rise for a bathroom break. You made her a sandwich before heading out.

As you walked to the subway, you found yourself scrolling through relationship advice sites on your phone. You knew it was a bit silly to seek guidance online, but what could it hurt to take a peek? After sifting through a bunch of silly sites and endless ads, a social Q&A platform caught your eye. One question stood out:

"How am I supposed to tell him I love him too, but I'm not ready?"

Ah just what you were looking for.

You scrolled to read all the answers.

clickcrazecreations

It is okay to not return the statement, to say “thank you but I'm not ready”, to tell the person that you are not ready to be shackled by their love and affection.

But that wasn’t your issue—you were ready;-almost ready- that wasn’t the real problem.

wanderlustchronicles

Seriously, think twice! If you can't answer, it might mean you're not really in love, girl! It's okay to move on and find someone who makes you happy!

Hey! Who said you didn’t love him? And you knew he made you happy.

oprahwindfury

Wait, you found a guy who told you he loved you first, and you couldn't reply? Seriously? In this day and age with dating being tough, that's wild! You need a good kick in the ass. You bet I will.

That comment scared you a little and made you feel weird. Why did she sound so angry?

hopelessromantic

Is he handsome? I'll say yes to him. Give me his number.

What the heck? Those online comments were really getting on your nerves.

fartnroses

It’s pretty simple, come on! Follow your heart instead of... No, I’m not talking about that squishy thing!

You were just closing the page when you realized the most sensible comment.

agnespire

Love requires Courage. Take a hard look at your fear of saying these words to him. Then, if you love him, tell him so. Good communication is key in a relationship. This means pushing yourself into situations that may not be so comfortable at first. It’s called growth. Grow together. Share your feelings. Honor your feelings for him. Most of all, confront fears you have about anything and everything, and acknowledge that all negative emotions stem from fear. Kill it! Choose Love.

Choosing love.

Maybe it was that simple.

Courage.

Maybe that's exactly what you need.

The elevator bell chimed as Oliver stepped into Harry's apartment on the 72nd floor. His phone rang just then, and he answered it while scanning the room for Harry.

“Damn gossipmongers, they don’t waste any time. Get that story taken down from every site and warn them we’ll sue their asses if they keep running with it,” he said, fuming as he ended the call. His eyes continued searching for Harry, darting toward the bedroom but finding it empty.

He ventured into the living room and discovered Harry in the last place he expected: sprawled out on the couch, one leg dangling over the side. Whiskey bottles littered the floor, and the heavy scent of alcohol mixed with something else—cigarette smoke.

What the hell?

He’d quit smoking almost a decade ago.

This wasn't good.

Oliver leaned in and gave Harry a gentle nudge on the shoulder. “Harry? You okay?”

Harry mumbled something incoherent. Oliver leaned closer, trying to catch it, and realized he was murmuring your name.

Sighing, Oliver stood up. “Seriously, Harry! Wake up!” This time he poked him a bit harder.

Harry blinked awake and sat up, coughing as he tried to shake off the grogginess.

“Cigarettes? Really?”

“I have my reasons,” he replied, still half-asleep and grumpy.

Placing his hands on his hips, Oliver surveyed the scene. “Dude, last night... I thought you and her had it all figured out, but apparently not.”

“Harry! Ollie!” Maria called out as she rushed in from the elevator, her eyes widening in shock. “Sweet Jesus!”

“Good morning to you, too,” Oliver said, smiling sheepishly.

“What the hell happened here?” she asked, grimacing as she took in the chaos. “I thought…”

Oliver shook his head. Maria sighed in frustration.

Harry, nursing the terrible headache from his night of heavy drinking, pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose and temple. His hair was a mess, and he was still in the same tuxedo pants with his bow tie nowhere in sight.

“That dress. Isn’t it—” Oliver pointed to the black dress Harry was loosely holding, not even realizing he was still clutching it.

Suddenly aware, Harry sheepishly placed the dress back on the couch.

“The dress she gave back,” Oliver concluded, looking astonished.

“Are you kidding me?” Maria said, staring at him in disbelief.

Harry frowned, holding the dress back up to his nose. “Smells like her, okay?” he murmured, looking like a kid with his favorite candy.

“That’s fantastic! Bravo!” Maria clapped her hands together mockingly. “Who are you, and what have you done to my buddy Harry?”

Harry, ignoring the banter, picked up a pack of cigarettes and searched for any left inside.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Oliver snatched the pack from his hands.

“Give it back!” Harry barked.

“Stop it! You’ve been clean for years; you can’t start again now.”

A tug-of-war began as Harry reached for it again.

Maria crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “You guys are acting like kids fighting over a toy.” She glanced at her watch. “Just so you know, it’s Monday,” she added, putting extra emphasis on her point.

Oliver suddenly froze.

“Give me a break today,” Harry whined, seizing the moment to grab his cigarette pack. He pulled one out and stuck it between his lips. “Where’s that damn lighter?”

“Harry, it’s 7:40 a.m.”

“I’m in no shape to go to work. Just email me the presentation details, and I’ll get to it when I’m feeling better,” he said, finally spotting the lighter under the pillow.

Oliver yanked the cigarette from his lips. “Dude, it’s Monday, and the housekeeper’s coming to clean your place at 8 o'clock. You get what I mean?”

“Oh, so now you get my point, huh, you geniuses?” Maria mocked.

Harry stiffened and murmured, “I can’t let her see me like this.”

“Can’t let her see you like this? She shouldn’t see you or any of us here, man! The whole thing will be revealed!”

“Well, it was bound to happen. Let it be,” Maria chimed in.

Harry squinted at her and stood up, but dizziness swept over him. “Whoa, I think I’m still feeling the effects of last night’s drinks.”

“How much did you even drink?” Maria scolded.

Oliver grabbed his arm and glanced at Maria. “Come on, help me out. We need to get this big guy out of here.” “Are we really going to kidnap him from his own apartment? Seriously?” she whimpered, but she slipped under Harry’s other arm to assist him. “Ugh, you smell like an ashtray, hermano.”

They made their way to the elevator, and Oliver pressed the button. “You hold him up, and I’ll grab his things.”

“Get that dress out of sight!” Harry called. “She can’t see it.”

Oliver nodded and dashed back inside.

“Are we in high school or something? I’m a 42-year-old mother; I’m too old for this. You need to come clean to that girl already,” Maria muttered.

“Stop whining. You’ve been in worse situations. Have you forgotten how many times I’ve pulled you out of a mess?”

“Hey, that was when I was in my 20s! Plus, I’ve never been as pathetic as you!”

“Yeah? Who was the one crying on that married ship captain’s doorstep for hours? I got slapped in the face by his wife because of you.”

Maria swallowed hard, averting her gaze. “You really do have a good memory for a drunk.”

“Alright, let’s get out of here,” Oliver said as he stepped into the elevator and pressed the button.

When they hit the ground floor, they rushed toward the exit, but when Oliver spotted you approaching through the glass door, he froze again. “She’s coming! Turn around now!”

“There’s no other way out,” Maria snapped.

“The other elevator!” Harry pointed.

“That makes sense,” Oliver agreed.

They hurried to that elevator and hit the button. Luckily, it was on that floor, and when the door opened, they slipped inside. Oliver grumbled as he pressed the buttons in a frenzy.

Unaware of everything, you stepped inside the apartment. Just as you turned to look in that direction, you heard the elevator doors closing. Oliver, Harry, and Maria breathed a sigh of relief as you walked straight to the staff's quarters to change.

Oliver kept his finger on the door-close button, waiting.

“I think we’re safe,” Oliver grinned.

“What a morning,” Maria muttered.

Then someone called the elevator to the tenth floor, and it started moving.

“What are you doing, man? We need to get out of here now!” Harry grunted.

“What can I do? I can't keep pressing the button every second!”

When the elevator arrived on the tenth floor, the doors opened to reveal a little boy frowning at them, school bag slung over his shoulder. "Were you the ones keeping the elevator busy? That’s so wrong."

Harry and Oliver shared an awkward glance, embarrassed.

“Sorry, little buddy,” Harry forced a smile.

“Going to school, huh?” Oliver asked nervously.

“Well, I was, but now I’m going to be late thanks to you!” The boy sniffled, shaking his head. “Drunks, seriously.”

Maria covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. The little boy stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor.

After an awkward ride down, they finally stepped outside. Maria turned toward her car and said, “All we needed was to get scolded by a little kid. Thank you, Harry, for this wonderful morning."

“I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous,” Oliver laughed.

“Come on, get in, you big babies,” Maria said, pressing the key fob to unlock her car.

“Where to?” Harry asked, opening the door.

“To get scolded by another kid.”

“Your place?”

“Well, if you can’t stay in your own house, what choice do you have? Get in, sneaky ass.”

Before hopping into the car, Harry glanced up at the top floor of the building—his apartment. A sense of sadness washed over him, knowing you would have to clean up the mess he left behind.

“Oh, my God…”

As you stepped into the apartment, the sight—and the smell—caught you off guard. What on earth had happened here? Did they throw a party last night or something? Clearly, the owner had his share of trouble, maybe he was not so innocent after all.

First things first, you rushed to the windows, flipped the hidden lever, and let some fresh air flow through. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed a big garbage bag and started clearing the floor of empty bottles and cigarette butts from the overflowing ashtray. As you cleaned, your curiosity kicked in. It couldn’t have been a wild party; only one couch was askew while the others remained untouched and tidy. The kitchen showed no signs of food; just a multitude of empty glasses scattered around.

You scanned the room—no lipstick on any glasses, no hair on the floor, so it was obvious no woman had crashed here. Maybe the two guys just shared a few drinks and chatted? Or maybe the owner just got dumped or something.

You smiled yourself and shook your head.

"Just do your job, girl. It's none of your business," you muttered.

Meanwhile, Harry sat in Maria's living room, staring blankly at the screen. "What are you, Sherlock Holmes?" He smirked.

"Is she suspicious?” Oliver asked.

“She was at first, but I think we're good,” Harry said, flopping onto the couch.

“For now,” Maria chimed in, pouring herself a glass of water. “But she’ll figure it out sooner or later and give you a good kick on the-- Oh, is someone awake?"

Maria’s daughter, Mia, came into the room, spotted Harry, and smiled. “Uncle Harry!”

Harry sat up and patted her head. “What’s up, darling? How’s it going?”

“Fine, but are you sick or something?” she asked with concern.

“Just a bit tired,” he replied, stretching out on the couch.

"Or hangover?" she grinned.

Harry chuckled. "Smart girl."

“What’s up, sweetheart?” Oliver said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Same old, school stuff,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Mia, eat your breakfast; I’ll take you to school,” Maria said, pointing to the plate on the counter.

“You skipped work, so I should get to skip school too, right?” Mia muttered.

Maria frowned, “Who said we skipped work, smartypants? Now hurry up, or you’ll be late!”

Mia huffed but sat down. “If you didn’t skip work, why are you both here while everyone else is working? And why’s Uncle Harry in Dad’s shirt?”

Maria chuckled, “Because he got kicked out of his own apartment.”

Mia took a big bite of her toast and looked at Harry inquisitively. “Oh! Did you leave your key inside? Mom did it once.”

“Thanks for bringing that up, kiddo,” Maria said, rolling her eyes. “Come on, we’re late! Just eat that on the way,” she added, grabbing her school bag and urging Mia to finish her juice.

“Good luck at school,” Harry waved as Mia headed toward the door.

“Catch you later, princess,” Oliver called back.

Mia waved goodbye, and as Maria followed her out, she turned back to Harry. “You’d better be in better shape by the time I get back, Romeo,” she warned before closing the door behind her.

Oliver turned to Harry, “She’s right, man. You need to pull yourself together; you look worn out. Even a shower didn’t lift your spirits. Want me to whip you up something to eat?”

Harry let out a deep sigh. “No, thanks. I don’t have an appetite.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes. “Okay, that has me worried. There’s definitely something you’re not saying.”

“Well, I couldn’t say it in front of Maria, but I’ve got an issue,” Harry finally admitted.

“Yeah, I can see that. But it looks like you’ve got more than one thing going on,” Oliver said, grinning. But then he noticed the seriousness in Harry’s face and softened. “What can I do? Just tell me what you need.”

Harry huffed, swallowing hard. “I need her.”

“Dude. Tell me something I don't know."

He huffed again.

"Okay, she’ll come around if you just give it some time—”

“You don’t get it,” Harry snapped, sitting up to face Oliver. “I...really...need...her,” he emphasized, his breathing steadying as he spoke.

Oliver frowned, sensing the weight of his words. “Go on,” he urged gently.

“Every thought I have revolves around her. That night in Paris haunts me…her skin, her scent, her...”

Oliver raised a hand to stop him. “Whoa. I get it, man. No need to go into detail.”

“The memories consume me, and they’ve left me in a real bind,” he said frankly. "It's like a unique kind of erotic film that continuously plays in my mind, and she is the only actress. But I can't do anything; I'm just watching in awe."

“Can't do anything? But, I mean, come on. You—surely you’ve tried—”

“Everything. From the erotic to the pharmaceutical.”

Oliver chuckled, unable to help himself. “I’m sorry, it’s not funny, but this is just bizarre, man. It’s oddly romantic too,” he said, laughing again.

“I guess it's because I’ve never faced rejection before. All I can think about is her. Maybe that’s how my body reacts, and maybe I’m—”

“In love.”

A short silence hung in the air. “Yes, I am,” Harry admitted.

“Well, If you ask me, you haven’t really tried everything yet,” Oliver suggested.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, curious.

“Listen, it doesn’t have to be about hooking up with her to solve your mechanical issues, you know? There are plenty of women out there who would be interested—like through escort services or sex workers.”

“No, never!” Harry barked. “I can’t cheat on her. Do you even hear what you’re saying?”

“Cheating? Is she your wife? You’re not even dating! That’s not cheating, man.”

“It wouldn’t even matter. It wouldn't work. I can’t think about anyone else. I just want her, only her.”

“Alright, but I’m out. You’re asking me to help with something I can’t fix. Plus, that girl you "want" is super stubborn. It’s definitely not going to be easy.”

“Yeah, thanks for the heads up,” he grumbled.

Oliver stood up, shrugging. “Try to get some sleep. Maybe that’ll help clear your head.”

Harry nodded and flopped back on the couch, opening his tablet to check what you were doing. Oliver shook his head when he caught sight of the goofy smile spreading across Harry’s face.

Once he stepped into the garden, he pulled out his phone and called Maria. “Hey it's me. Listen, Harry's got a bigger problem than we realized. I think you need to step in now.”

After finally wrapping up the cleaning of the apartment, thoughts of Harry filled your mind as you stepped outside. He had been on your mind all day, especially since he hadn’t reached out with a text or call since last night. You couldn’t shake the feeling of how much you missed his playful messages.

The nagging worry that you might have upset him echoed in your mind, driving you a bit crazy.

But how could you express your feelings when you weren't fully ready?

When the moment to speak your truth arrived, you wanted to pour your heart out.

You shouldn’t have brushed it off as if it didn't matter, right?

As you walked down the street, the happy couples around you caught your attention, casually dropping “I love you” into their conversations. In the past, you would have thought little of it, but now it felt like a constant reminder of what you were missing. Another couple strolled by, murmuring those same words. Then, on the subway, a woman sat next to you, holding hands with her boyfriend or husband. And there it was again—“I love you.”

Feeling unworthy, you got up and told the guy that you would get off at the next stop anyway, nudging him to sit next to his partner. You felt like you didn't deserve to be there next to them, especially when you couldn’t even tell the man you loved that you loved him back.

They seemed to express their feelings so effortlessly, while you struggled, so you decided it was better to step aside as a form of penance.

Yeah, you were really losing it.

When another cheerful couple boarded the train, and more declarations of love surrounded you, you reached your breaking point. You hopped off at the next station, even if it meant getting off three stops early. The heaviness of guilt was the last thing you needed, yet it hung heavily on your shoulders.

It felt as if your mind was caught in a tug-of-war, much like a dull quiz show.

Congratulations!

You've won yourself a lengthy walk home as a consolation prize!

Once you got home and recounted last night’s events to Zoe, her reaction was immediate. “He told you he loved you, and you did what? Just walked away?” she exclaimed. "Girl, are you crazy? You’re in love with him, for fuck sake! Call him right now and say you want to talk."

From the corner of the couch, you frowned at her. “I told you I’m not ready yet.”

Zoe rolled her eyes as if you had just said the most absurd thing. "If John told me he loved me, you'd be surprised how quickly my panties would fall down."

You grimaced. "Ugh, slutty much?"

"Stubborn much?" she shot back. “Don’t come crying to me if you lose him to someone else because you overthink everything.”

You let out a huff and stood up. “I’m heading to my room,” you muttered. “Good night.”

"Think about what I said! Tell him you love him before it's too late, you silly!"

Ughhhhh.

It was as if she was inside your head. You knew that if you didn’t speak up, other women would be swarming around him like a pack of hyenas.

You flopped onto your bed, feeling as though you were collapsing under the weight of it all, and sighed deeply. Checking your phone, you noticed there were no messages. You opened Instagram, scrolled through his comments on your photos filled with heart emojis, and couldn’t help but smile, even giggling like a little girl. Then you clicked on his profile and browsed through his pictures one by one. That’s when your heart began to race.

Thump, thump, thump.

Perhaps it was simply your body’s instinctive response.

Screaming.

It certainly seemed to convey your feelings more effectively than your words ever could.

You turned off your phone, placing it face down on the nightstand.

It was time to come clean.

You missed his messages, longed for the sound of his voice, craved his smile and his touch, and you knew that if this dragged on for another day, you’d toss your pride out the window without a second thought.

The next day?

The next day was even worse. You had hoped for a cheerful morning message from him, but when you picked up your phone and flipped it over to check the screen, all you found were a few advertisements—nothing from him.

Frustrated, you sat up in bed, seething with anger.

Why were you so upset?

Why did this feeling of abandonment weigh on you?

Your emotions took a turn, and frustration morphed into remorse.

Great!

In a fit of anger, you snatched your pillow and flung it against the wall. Just then, Zoe opened your door and stumbled in.

“What on earth is going on here?” The pillow landed at her feet. “Hey, do you want me to injure my other ankle too?”

You jumped out of bed and grabbed her arm, checking her ankle. "Oh, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

“I think so, but you definitely don’t seem okay.”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, right. You’re just great,” she teased. “And this pillow must be flying in from all the happiness.”

“Alright, that's enough. I need to head to the hotel,” you muttered as you opened your wardrobe to get ready.

“Oh, by the way! While you’re out, can you grab some ointment from the pharmacy?”

You rolled your eyes as you put on your pants. “Let me guess, you’ve used it all up, haven’t you?”

“What else am I supposed to do? I want to heal fast; I’m so over staying at home.”

"You gotta take it easy, sweetie. Just be patient."

“Well, I’m not as patient as you are, sorry.” She shot back with a grin.

"Just like that, and nobody got a clue, and the wedding went off without a hitch."

You were chatting with Bruno about how you managed to save the wedding cake at the last minute.

"Ah, cara mia, you’re great. Taking risks is crucial if you want to grab those chances. Being brave and going for it, no matter how it turns out, is what really counts, even if you mess up at the end," Bruno said proudly. He leaned over the counter and winked at you. "Just kidding, but seriously, try not to mess it up,” he added with a chuckle.

You laughed, but his words lingered in your mind, making your smile fade.

Being brave and going for it, no matter how it turns out.

Wasn’t love worth that risk?

Absolutely, it was worth it.

He was worth it.

Lost in your thoughts, you finally heard the waitress calling your name. “Huh? Sorry, what was that?” you asked, pulling yourself back to the moment.

“I was just saying that Mr. Finnegan's girlfriend and her friends are here, and she wants to see who made the dessert — which is you,” the waitress replied.

“Oh look, my assistant is on her way to becoming a chef,” Bruno said, grinning as he continued slicing the cheese.

“Or on the path to getting fired,” you muttered under your breath.

You were quite sure that Lucy didn’t like you at all.

As you walked into the dining room, you couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh when you saw Lucy and the two women sitting across from her. Lucy flashed a tight smile that didn’t do much to ease your discomfort. The other women were giving you the once-over, evaluating you from head to toe.

“Here’s the person who made this delicious dessert, ladies,” Lucy announced, with a fake smile.

“But isn’t that the waitress who danced with Harry Castillo at the wedding?” one of the women said, looking totally shocked.

“Aren’t you that maid?” the other woman added with growing astonishment. “The one who hacked our system, impersonated someone else, and embarrassed us in front of all our customers? How many faces do you really have?”

“Seems like she’s trying to snag both Castillo and Finnegan,” one of them remarked, glancing at Lucy with a knowing look.

"A gold digger for sure."

All three women were looking right at you, as if you owed them some kind of explanation. Even the people at the next table were tuning in, throwing you judgmental looks that only made your embarrassment and anger worse. You gripped your apron tightly, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

Just then, Maria entered the dining room, her eyes narrowing at the scene unfolding before her. She shared in your anger.

One of the women pushed her plate away with a grimace and said, “I can’t eat this. It’s making me feel sick.” With a little shove, the plate slid off the table and hit the floor. “Oops! Well, lucky we’ve got a cleaner around. What are you waiting for? Clean this mess up!"

You shot her an incredulous glare; this was too much.

“Looks like someone’s itching for a fight,” Maria muttered as she strode confidently towards their table. “That’s not a cleaner, that’s a maid, you illiterate bitch,” she snapped.

Everyone shifted their attention to her, including you.

“Maria—” Lucy froze, taken aback.

The woman looked annoyed and shot back, “Who the hell are you talking to?”

Ignoring her, Maria turned to the other woman, the matchmaker. “It wasn’t her who hacked your system; it was Melanie and her minions. Why are you taking your anger out on this girl? And what kind of system collapses at the slightest breach? Everyone should steer clear of this matchmaking company,” she declared, her voice rising for all to hear. “If their tech team is so incompetent they can’t protect customer credentials, consider what they’d do with your credit card info! Scammers would be the best-case scenario.”

Trembling with fury, she hissed, “And who even are you—”

“Me?" She adjusted her hair in a swift move. "María Elisa Rivera Armada,” she replied coolly, crossing her arms defiantly.

A hush fell over the room; they clearly recognized her name, her connections, and her influence. The two women exchanged nervous glances before rising to leave.

“I’d better go,” one of them muttered under her breath.

Other one joined her.

Maria stepped in front of them, her expression serious. “Are you really going to leave without apologizing to her?”

Both women turned to you, quickly avoiding eye contact. “We’re sorry,” they mumbled.

“Look at them,” Maria shot back, clearly disappointed. “You were loud enough to throw insults but now I can barely hear you.”

Lucy opened her mouth to say something but held back, choosing to steer clear of a fight with her. The women repeated their apologies and hurried out.

Maria took Lucy by the arm as she stood up. You couldn't hear over their conversation while you helped the waitress clean the floor.

“I didn’t confront you earlier for what you did to Harry, because I was caught up in my own divorce and dealing with depression." Maria said to Lucy. "But let me make this clear: if you ever mess with her again, I’ll step in before Harry ever does. Got it? Just a heads up, the crazy bitch is in town and ready to kick some ass."

Lucy narrowed her eyes defiantly. “I didn’t say anything she hasn’t done. Besides, I really don’t care if Harry likes her; I just want her to stay away from Alan.”

Maria laughed cruelly and leaned in closer. "Maybe it’s Alan who needs to keep his distance from her, don’t you think? Why don’t you go and tell your boyfriend about it and see how he reacts?"

Lucy’s face flushed with anger as she stormed out of the room.

A soft murmur spread among those eating; some must have known Maria. Unbothered, Maria took a seat in the chair left vacant by Lucy and looked at you. “Don’t just stand there like a scarecrow; come sit,” she said.

“I could have handled them too, you know,” you muttered as you settled at the table.

Maria pulled Lucy's untouched dessert plate towards her. “Oh, darling, you shouldn’t have to stoop to their level. You’re too good for that.” She glanced at you and winked. “You’re like an angel; keep that up.” Then she took a big forkful of dessert. “Oh, this is fucking delicious.” She took another hefty bite.

You chuckled. "Bon appétit, Mrs. Rivera. By the way, thanks for that; I wasn’t sure how to respond. I mean, I’m used to getting scolded, but those accusations were a bit much."

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. It’s been a while since I’ve acted like that, and it felt so good,” she said with a laugh.

“You were really cool,” you replied with a smile.

"I should be a bit tough on you too, you know. You deserve it," she said, eyeing the dessert.

You were taken aback. "Me? Wh-why?"

Maria shot you a serious look. “Oh, you know very well.”

Silence hung between you for a moment as you averted your gaze and sighed.

“Look, I’m not great at lying, and I’m pretty upfront, even when trouble’s on the horizon. So here’s the deal,” she said earnestly.

You nodded, sensing what was coming next.

“Listen,” Maria sighed. “I’m not going to beg you like 'He loves you—just tell him you love him back, please'. No. Let’s just cut to the chase. Are Harry’s feelings mutual or not? I need to know. Is there any hope? Because he’s like my brother, and I can’t bear to see him suffer like this. Do you understand?” she added, her tone sincere.

“Maria, I don’t want him to hurt either, but is he okay? He hasn’t called me for days,” you replied, worry creeping into your voice.

Maria smiled softly.

“I don’t really know what to do anymore. I never meant to hurt him; I would never intentionally do that,” you admitted, lowering your head.

Maria’s smile turned into one of satisfaction. She had found the answer she sought. “He’s fine,” she said coldly, wiping a bit of cream from the corner of her mouth. “Well, he will be; I’ll make sure of it as his friend.” She stood up suddenly. “But I wish you had been there; by his side, it would’ve made everything much better. But again, it’s all right.”

You stood up too, trying to grasp what she meant.

“Remember. No one is irreplaceable, not even you.”

You frowned slightly. “That’s a bit—”

“Bitchy? It’s just my protective side coming out. Harry is family to me, and I tend to be overprotective of my family.” She leaned in and spoke in a lower voice. “Here’s a warning for you: you’re on the verge of letting him slip away, so you’d better act quickly.” She winked at you before turning on her heel, leaving you in awe as you watched her walk away.

Maria hopped into the car waiting for her, Oliver was in the driver’s seat, giving her a curious look.

“Well?”

“Good news, she’s totally in love with Harry,” she said with a grin.

“Then she’ll tell him, right? That’s awesome!” he replied, looking relieved.

“Hmm, I don’t think so. Not anytime soon, anyway.”

“What? Why not?”

“She just needs a little push.”

"Alright, we need to bring them together. Should I arrange a date?"

Maria rolled her eyes. “What’s it like in that little head of yours, Ollie? You men are really simple creatures."

Oliver frowned. “What does that even mean?”

“Never mind. I’ll handle it,” she said, pulling out her phone to text.

“How? What’s your plan?”

“I’m going to give her a little nudge, get her emotions going, and light that fire.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Jealousy, Ollie. Jealousy.”

Oliver leaned in to take a look at her phone. “Stella? Oh boy, Harry’s not going to like this.”

“As long as he doesn’t find out, we’ll be fine. So you’d better keep your mouth shut.”

“But what if she ends up hating Harry instead of feeling jealous? How can you be sure?”

Maria shot him a glare. “My seventy-year-old grandmother divorced my grandfather out of jealousy after fifty years of marriage. It’s one of the most primitive and powerful emotions a human can experience; it activates everything within you. Trust me—our little cat will turn into a tiger.”

It was yet another dreary morning, and you had to admit—another day without his good morning text was not going well at all.

Then there was Maria's comment. She must really have a knack for manipulation.

What did she say again?

“No one is irreplaceable.”

Did Harry actually say that, or was it her idea? No, Harry wouldn’t say something like that.

Would he?

Who knows?

He hadn’t been around for three days; maybe that’s what he thought now. You rolled over in bed, burying your face in the pillow and letting out a frustrated growl.

Why did it hurt so much?

It just made you mad. You felt like there was nothing you could do, like it was too late. You hated that feeling.

The door swung open, and Zoe peeked in. "If you're going to smother yourself, you should probably put your head under the pillow instead."

You shot her a glare. “Oh really? Why don’t you come show me how it’s done?”

She let out a wicked laugh. “So, you still haven’t called him, huh? Babe, you’re way past the ‘he should call first’ phase, don’t you think?”

You sprang up, fired up. “Don’t start on me too, Zoe! I’ve got enough people coming at me!”

She narrowed her eyes at you as you stormed out of the room. “Who else is coming at you? Although I shouldn’t be surprised! Your stubbornness must be famous!” she shouted after you.

When you got to the hotel, things just went downhill from there. You were so distracted that you messed up a bunch of things, and Bruno had to tell you to head home early. You were actually relieved because you really weren’t feeling up to working. On your way back, all you could think about was Harry. You typed out a ton of messages but ended up deleting them all before hitting send. You were itching to get the scoop about his house from Oliver so you could figure things out. You were desperate to see him. You couldn’t tell if he was just playing games or if he actually wanted you to chase after him.

But you knew you had to do something.

Just then, waiting at a red light to turn green, your phone buzzed.

Mr. Ol’man sent you a photo.

You opened the message quickly, and your heart raced as you did so without thinking.

Once upon a time, you used to have pride.

You saw the photo he sent you and froze in the middle of the crosswalk.

There was Harry, enjoying drinks in a bar with a super-hot, blonde woman, clinking glasses and laughing at the camera.

Laughing.

Happy.

With a woman.

In a bar, drinking.

Harry.

The man you loved.

The man who told you he loved you a few nights back.

Suddenly, the blaring horn of a car jolted you back to reality, realizing you were still standing in the street. You hurried across and leaned against a nearby wall to catch your breath. Your heart was pounding now, but it was all anger. It felt like fire was coursing through your veins. Then you got another message, and it only stoked the flames.

“Sorry, I sent it to you by mistake. I meant to send it to Stella.”

Stella.

Oh, come on! Seriously?

You felt a wave of anger and hurt, your body shaking as if jolted by a live wire. It took you a minute to think straight. This had to be some sort of game. There was no way it was real. It was just his way of messing with you. But what if it wasn’t?

No, you couldn’t think clearly; your mind was clouded. One emotion dominated your thoughts, taking control of your entire being.

Jealousy.

You were furious and incredibly jealous.

Tears of anger streamed down your face as you walked aimlessly down the street. While wrestling with what to do next, another message pinged on your phone.

It was from Maria.

“The King Cole Bar. Better hurry, sis; this skank’s all over Harry.”

That was the last straw.

You had to go there.

But how? You knew that place was fancy; there was no way you could walk in looking like you were right then, or in any of your clothes, honestly. In that moment, you did something rash, something that felt immature, and you’d probably regret later, but anger and jealousy took charge.

You didn’t care about the fallout.

You called her on your phone, the one saved under “trouble.”

“I can't believe I'm doing this,” you muttered under your breath. Sharing a limo with Melanie and Nate, and unintentionally overhearing their steamy chatter was too much to bear.

“God, just end my misery,” you thought grimly.

“Hey, we skipped our program for you tonight,” Melanie hissed. “How about a little gratitude?”

“So you two are together now? That's more disgusting than the most disgusting thing I can think of.”

“You really,” Melanie grunted.

Nate's hands were all over her. “Never mind her, baby, she's jealous of us.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh yeah! I'm dying of jealousy!”

“Maybe not us, but you're insanely jealous of your boyfriend,” Melanie giggled. ‘’I see what you are doing, that's a lame excuse.”

“Mind your own business,” you barked.

“Exactly, honey, let's mind our own business,” Nate licked her neck.

Ugh, you looked away and ignored them, feeling nauseous.

At least Melanie, annoying as she could be, had brought you a dress and shoes.

Of course, it wasn't for nothing.

You promised to talk to Jack about her in return.

The limo pulled up near the bar and you got out. No, you jumped out, because the two of them were getting into it. You hurriedly told the limo driver to get lost, the two of them didn't even look back, they were too busy.

You sighed as you read the name of the bar from the elegant logo above the black entrance door. “This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever done,” you muttered. People were looking at you with interest when they passed by the bar. Oh that's right, Melanie and her dress sense, she liked to look like a little slut.

So the red halter dress you were wearing was not so short but a bit revealing, with a deep slit on your right side that shows off your thigh with every step. You felt like a neon sign flashing, “Look at me!”

Thanks a lot, Melanie.

Did it really have to be red?

You tugged at the tight black jacket, trying to cover yourself up, but it wasn’t working. The doorman checked you out, grinning as he happily welcomed you inside.

As you stepped in, all eyes were on you, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

Just perfect.

You chose the corner table and sat down immediately, trying to ignore the stares. You covered your face with the menu and looked around.

Where the hell were they?

The stares were becoming increasingly uncomfortable. After all, you were stunning, dressed to impress, and scanning the room as if you were searching for someone special. Who could say what thoughts were running through their minds?

Finally, you spotted them—Maria, Oliver, and Harry sitting at the bar. But where was the woman from the photo he sent? You looked again. There were no blondes in sight—just a couple with other people, none that looked like her. What’s going on? Just then, your phone buzzed. It was a text from Maria.

“Looking for Stella? That photo was from last year, honey.”

You shot her a quick glance, and she winked at you with a sly grin.

Seriously?

Had she played you?

Maria nudged Harry to look your way, and the moment he turned, you quickly looked away.

The instant Harry noticed you, he nearly choked on the whiskey he was sipping, looking utterly stunned.

But honestly, you couldn’t care less; they had all been playing games with you, and you felt like a total fool.

You got up in a huff and tried to leave, but as luck would have it, you bumped into a guy. Of course, he was holding a glass of scotch, and the impact sent it splashing all over you—on your jacket, your chest, everywhere. The cold liquid, still icy, made you shiver when it hit your skin. Some even dribbled down into your expensive bra—the one you had saved up for.

Just fantastic.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” he said, looking younger than you, his eyes glued to one spot—your breasts. You were the one who bumped into him, but he was the one needing to apologize, yes he should. He grabbed a napkin from the table, still staring at your chest like he was talking directly to it. “Can I wipe that up, p-please?” he asked, way too eager.

Seriously, was he a fucking teenager or what?

You instinctively pulled back, trying to cover yourself with your arm. “No thanks,” you replied tersely.

In that moment, three things happened at once. Maria dropped her bag right on the guy's head, Harry yanked your wrist and pulled you behind him, and Oliver stepped up next to you, giving that guy a fierce look.

“Are you a creep or what?” Maria shouted.

“How dare you touch her?” Harry barked.

“Who the hell are you people?” the guy shot back.

“I’m her boyfriend, so what?” Harry replied.

“And I’m her sister,” Maria jumped in.

“And I'm her brother,” Oliver added.

Wow, here's your saviors.

That’s when you figured it was your moment to mess with them. “Excuse me, but I don’t even know you guys, so you can sort this out on your own,” you said, not bothering to look at them. You couldn’t help but enjoy the shocked looks on their faces as you turned and headed for the exit.

“Where do you think you're going?” Harry yelled after you. He bumped into the guy, causing him to stumble, and ran after you.

Once you stepped outside, you purposely took off your jacket, making sure your wet top was on full display. “My jacket is ruined,” you said, glancing up at Harry.

People walking by stared, even whistling. Harry growled, took off his own jacket, and wrapped it around you. “You think that's funny? Are you playing games now?”

“Look who’s talking,” you shot back, frowning. “You messed with me, so we’re even now.”

He raised an eyebrow, genuinely confused. “Messed with you?”

You gave him a swift kick with your high heel, aiming right for his leg, and he groaned. "Ahh, what the-"

“You made a fool out of me; I won’t forget that.”

He bent down, rubbing his leg where you kicked him. “What are you talking about?” he asked, gritting his teeth.

With a sigh, you took your phone from your bag and showed him the photo and text that Maria had sent.

Harry’s face went from surprised to narrowed. “Maria… Now that makes sense. She took my phone and kept telling me not to call or text you.”

Just then, Maria and Oliver came out of the bar and walked up to you. Harry turned to her, clearly angry. “How could you do that?”

“Hey, I was just looking out for you! I had to step in a little, but guess what---it worked!”

Then he looked at Oliver. “You’re in this too?”

“I told her not to,” Oliver replied, sounding nervous.

Maria glared at him. “You sold me out, you cabrón.”

“Come on, I told you this wouldn’t end well,” he said.

You turned to Maria, upset. “You tricked me. Seriously, how could you?”

“Come on, you two are totally into each other. And you girl, you are dying to be with him! Just admit it!”

“Don’t you dare show your face around me again,” you said, eyeing Harry. “You too.” Then, you turned on your heel.

“Stop right there, sweetheart; you are not going anywhere,” he said, blocking your path. “We need to talk, and this time you’re not running away.”

You looked at him, surprised. “I’m not running away,” you mumbled. “If you want to talk, fine, but not out here; I’m freezing.”

He nodded, “Come here,” he said softly, putting his arm around you. “Oliver, give me the car keys.”

“Are we heading to your place?” you asked.

“No!” Harry snapped, making you jump a little.

“Not there,” Oliver added, looking uneasy.

“Oops,” Maria giggled.

What the hell was that?

You shot them a skeptical glance. “Seriously? Are you living in some kind of secret Batcave or what?"

Harry chuckled. “Very funny. The thing is, we can't go to my place because…”

“Because?”

“There’s a bit of an insect invasion,” Oliver chimed in. “The house is being fumigated, so…”

It seemed like a weak excuse, but perhaps it was the truth; you decided to stop probing. “So, where are you staying now?” you asked.

“Just at the hotel, of course,” Maria replied casually.

“Right, the hotel,” Harry mumbled.

“I’ll drive you there; you’ve had too much to drink, you can't drive,” Oliver said, heading for the car.

You turned to Harry, catching a glimpse of something strange in his expression but didn’t dwell on it. The thought of being alone with him was actually appealing.

Fuck all your pride and stubbornness.

Yeah, it was definitely time to follow your heart.

“Memories, huh?” you mutter as the elevator smoothly ascends to the top-floor suite.

Harry's gaze was locked onto you, his breath coming in steady but heavy bursts. “Yeah, I guess so,” he replied, tilting his head slightly to the side.

Was he checking out your ass?

It didn’t really matter; he could look all he wanted, and honestly, you wanted him to do more—like touch you, everywhere.

Right, why wasn’t he?

What was he waiting for?

Oh right, those damn cameras.

As you walked into the room, he clasped your hand tightly. When you reached the door, he pulled the card from his pocket, swiped it, and the door swung open. “Ladies first,” he said with a gesture, inviting you inside.

His voice was a bit shaky, making you bite your lip to keep from giggling. He followed you inside and closed the door with a firm click, almost as if he was making sure you were alone. You took off his jacket and handed it back to him, trying to keep a straight face. “Thanks for the jacket—”

And he lunged at you. He threw the jacket angrily and wrapped his arms around you, pulled you to him and captured your lips with his mouth. He kissed you passionately, longingly, hungrily, like you were his oxygen and he was underwater in a sea of lust.

“Harry," You breathed trying to break the kiss, but his lips closed in on yours again before you could utter another word. You sighed softly against him, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. As your hands slid down to his biceps, you clung to him, feeling the undeniable strength beneath the fabric, lost in the intensity of the moment.

"I thought we were just going to talk," you said mockingly, tilting your head to the side. His gaze remained fixed on your chest.

"Later, baby. With you dressed like that, I might not be able to concentrate. You look exquisite," he breathed, his voice laced with a seductive tone that made you weak in the knees.

A smile broke across your face, “You’re looking quite handsome yourself.”

And he truly was, his black long-sleeved shirt clinging perfectly to his well-defined frame.

The atmosphere crackled with an electric tension the moment his gaze settled on you. You craved to keep him focused solely on you, yearning for his eyes to linger endlessly. Those captivating brown eyes, glimmering like precious jewels, seemed to caress every inch of you, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

"Your dress is soaking wet," he said breathlessly, his hands gliding over the damp fabric, brushing against your breasts. They instantly hardened at his touch, which they had been longing for. You bit your lower lip.

"It's not just my dress," you whispered slowly in his ear.

He darkly chuckled, fire licking at your veins from the heat of his gaze, “Is that so? So you’re saying that If I touch you, I will find you ready for my cock?” he asked, grinning.

“Why not find out for yourself?” you teased.

His hand suddenly found itself trailing a path towards your bare legs to between your thighs, making you gasp. Holding on to his strong arms, the feel of his fingers trailing over your skin was a wonderful, delicious shock that left you breathless.

“Playing with fire would be dangerous, you know,” he growled low, so low, it reverberated through your chest. And through the partition of the dress, that slit that split mid-thigh, he caressed up your leg, towards your hip.

You almost mewled.

Almost.

“I'm not playing,” you murmured, half panting.

He chuckled again, that dark, seductive glee escaping from him in agonizing, tantalizing waves. “You decided to be a good girl then?” he stared at you, eyes molten pools of lust. “It surprises me you acquiesced, given how stubborn you are. Hmm, maybe I should reward you,” he whispered while his hand still deliciously trailed a lazy path over and around.

Who was playing now?

It sure wasn't you.

You were already past the playing part, you were dripping.

He knew, of course, he fucking knew, without even having to touch...

But he did touch, sliding his hands under your dress down to your wet panties, his fingers pushing them aside, there it was; he could feel your lips, drenched and ready.

You bucked against his palm, aching for more but he deliberately pulled away.

You frowned in response.

Damn.

He chuckled delightfully, looking at his fingers coated with your wetness, “My darling kitty, you’re completely soaked. So you were being honest, after all. Such a good girl. Are you hoping for a reward?”

“Just give it to me already,” you urged, gripping him tightly and pressing yourself against him, ignoring the feeling of a deep blush spread across your cheeks.

“Oh, I will, sweetheart,” he said with a sly smile. He spun you around, pulling you firmly against him. Before you could even process what was happening, his strong arms enveloped you, and you felt his chin just above your ear and his clothed cock pressing against your thighs; you could feel beneath the fabric; it was hard, painfully hard, and you gasped. "You drive me so fucking crazy. I want so bad to slide into that sweet wet pussy and feel it all tight and hot around me while I pound into you.” He purred, “But first, there’s something I want you to do.” He touched your lips, then chin, tracing his fingertip down the line of your throat, over the hollow of your collarbone, down to the swelled curve of your breasts. His other hand had already slipped under the slit in your dress and found your dripping pussy once more, you bit your lower lip hard. The hand at your sex continued to tease you, lazily circling your entrance.

Fuck.

You shuddered under his touch and words, your back arched, eyes rolling, moaning softly.

"Will you do what I want, baby?” he asked as if you might protest.

“Whatever you want,” you whispered, eyes closed and completely surrendered to him, it was all too much and you were helpless in the face of this torture, you were melting.

He had to do what he had to do already, he had to do it before you lost your fucking mind.

His other hand grabbed your head from behind and he tilted your head to the other side this time, you tilted your head back towards his other shoulder. You couldn't do anything, you had no choice but to let him play with you like a toy. “Tell me you love me,” he whispered in a demanding tone.

It took you a second to figure out what had just happened, then you opened your eyes and frowned. “What the hell? Are you really trying to seduce me into saying that?”

"You left me no choice. Now say it, come on, I'm waiting."

In that moment, your stubbornness flared up because he had pushed you, forcing you to say that. But those wonderful fingers stroking your pussy so incredibly slowly, damn it, it made you stop thinking.

“Say it,” he said, sounding a bit impatient this time. He grabbed the strap of your dress and pulled it down to your waist. "I know you love me, so spill it. I’m not letting you leave this room until you do."

You turned your head to him, "Wait, what did you say? You can't do that."

“Watch me,” he said, yanking the dress down off your waist until it fell to the floor. “Now, darling, you’ve got two options,” he said, pulling you closer. You tried to struggle, but there was no breaking free from his grip. “The easy way or the hard way.”

“I get the easy way, but what’s the hard way, Mr. Castillo?” you scoffed.

He smirked, turned you around, this time you faced him. You deliberately took a step backwards, he was unbuttoning his shirt as he stepped towards you. “So you're taking the hard way?” he said huskily and kept walking towards you, and you kept going backwards.

Until your back hit the wall.

He leaned in, one hand against the wall next to you while the other gripped the strap of your bra. His gaze was intense as his fingers played with the lace. Then, feeling impatient, he quickly reached behind you, found the clasp of your wet bra, and undid it in no time. He kept his eyes locked on yours as he lifted your bra and tossed it on the floor. You could feel your face getting hot, and you bit your lip.

After that, he bent down to your level and lifted you by your hips. Your bare breasts rubbed against his bare chest, you both moaned. “Say it,” he said again, his breath hot on your skin.

But instead of answering, you held on to him, letting your hardened breasts torture him some more.

He growled in frustration and picked you up, carried you into the bedroom and threw you on the bed roughly making you gasp. You crawled backwards as he hurriedly took off his pants, your heart pounding in your throat, excited to see him completely naked.

Your gaze remained locked on his, biting your lip in anticipation.

But he was still lingering while taking his underpants off.

Finally.

You let out a happy sigh, taking in how breathtaking he looked. Impatiently, you shifted to the edge of the bed, grabbed his hand, and pulled him closer to you. He leaned over and let you pull him down on the bed on top of you.

“Getting a little impatient, are we?” He smirked at you. “You can speed up the process, you know,” he said pinning you to the bed with his weight, putting one knee between your not yet fully spread legs and grasping your wrists.

“Oh come on, this is getting ridiculous,” you muttered.

“But it’s so much fun,” he breathed out before lunging for your mouth, pulling deep, hungry kisses that leave you both panting harshly.

Proving in a way that he was an amazing kisser and hot as hell.

Needing to taste every inch of your flushed skin, he continued up the sharp line of your jaw, your wrists slipping from his grasp.

He let out a hot breath over your ear before running the tip of his tongue down the shell of it. A shiver ran up your spine, and you bit down on his shoulder, pulling a groan from his throat. You soothed the spot with your lips as your hands roamed his body, his muscles rippling under your fingers.

He made his way down your throat, kissing and nipping and swirling his tongue in all the right places, leaving goose bumps in his wake.

Next, the tip of his tongue traced the underside of your breast in a teasing, feather-light sweep, breathing out as he hovered above the peak of your nipple, almost touching it. He waited until your eyes locked and paused just for a moment before he dived down and captured you in his mouth roughly, sucking hard as he expertly used his lips, teeth, and tongue.

“Oh god,” you let slip out on a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, chest now heaving from the sudden onslaught. He let you slip slowly from his lips but added a quick kiss to the sensitive flesh, making you jump. Your fingers run through his curls as he lowers his head further.

“You’re so beautiful baby,” he hummed.

Without warning he ran the flat of his tongue over you again, causing your hips to buck.

You were on fire.

You were whimpering.

You needed him needed him so fucking bad.

“Harry…” you moaned when he finally spread your legs and made a slight contact with your clit.

Working you with his tongue, he placed lazy open-mouth kisses over your breasts. He teased your entrance with the head of his cock while sucking your nipples hungrily, relentlessly, making your eyes roll back with pleasure, your whole body tingling.

“Shit! Harry, I’m gonna--” Already worked up from all the teasing, the exquisite combination of sensations sent a jolt straight to your core, causing a small orgasm that surprised you both.

Whoa, that never happened to you before; you were still in shock.

But that wasn’t enough.

It didn't do anything to satiate you, though; it only made you want more.

What the hell got into you?

Damn it.

He snickered. “Yes, baby, say my name and say that word, and I will give you more," he hummed into your flesh.

“Are you going to fuck me or what?” you growled, almost sobbing.

“As soon as you say the damn word,” He growled back and rubbed the tip of his cock against your walls and you pressed your hips against him but he pulled back, still waiting. “Oh c’mon, tell me you love me already,” he hissed.

It was too much and frustrating

“I… Harry, I-” you panted, trying to use your words but you were failing.

“Go on,” he grunted, commanding.

It was too much and frustrating for him too.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore as his cock throbbed in agony, and with a quick and rough thrust, he buried himself inside you, but halfway through it yet was enough to make you jump and scream.

He pulled back again and sighed.

You leaned back into the pillows, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your legs around the backs of his. Your eyes met his, with a soft caress of his cheek, you whispered, "Harry Castillo... I love you... I love you so much that I do silly things because of you. I love you so much that I don’t want a single day to go by without you."

His lips curved up in a wide, victorious smile. "That's my girl. I love you too baby.”

He began to kiss you everywhere--- your cheeks, your nose your chin, your collarbone. And you moaned a little when he finally smashed his lips on yours, kissing you hungrily, his tongue sliding across your lower lip before nipping it. “That wasn't so hard, was it?” he grinned and kissed you again.

You managed to shake your head a little, blinking up at Harry as you panted broadly against his mouth. Your cunt throbbed around his cock as he fully sheathed himself in you. His fingers intertwined with yours, raising your joined hands to rest on the pillow beside you. He rolled his hips gently, then again as you whimpered, swirling his tongue with yours. He fucked you with slow, even strokes, trading slow kisses as you moaned and panted into one another's mouths.

He then broke the kiss, pressing his face into your neck as his thrusts became harder. You gasped, sinking your nails into his shoulders as you let your eyes slide closed. The bed was beginning to shake with his movements, and the slapping of your hips slightly echoed through the grand bedroom. You felt the familiar curling sensation beneath your waist, and you slid a hand down, grasping his behind and using the grip to urge him on. He drew back just enough to get a good look at you, his eyes bright in the dim room. You sucked in a stunned breath as he reached between your legs, fingers teasing your clit as his hips pounded yours more roughly.

You were moving so wildly that he couldn't keep his mouth on you any longer.

Your head fell back and you gasped when he thrust harder, deep into your wet, heated walls, a desperate sound escaping your thoroughly kissed lips. He stroked your clit while keeping up the rhythm he knew -he remembered from the first time you had sex that night-, one that pulled insanely erotic noises straight from your throat.

A devilish grin spread across his face as he took in the sight of you, his kitty writhing uncontrollably at his touch. Unable to take his eyes off of you, he worked his hand faster, moving it in a new sinfully exquisite way.

“Oh, God! Fuck!” You cried out, slick sounds of your bodies became louder and louder with every pump of his cock as his mouth latched onto your neck. You wrapped your arms around him, gripping him tightly to your chest, needing something to hang on to desperately. He could feel your body tense and knew you were close from the sounds you were making.

Fuck, those sounds alone could be his undoing.

“Come for me, baby,” he breathed in your ear, pushing you over the edge.

And you did.

Arched off the bed, his hand never left you, gone with you, working you through it as a steady stream of curses and what could be his name tumbled from your lips. Coming back down, you pulled his face to yours as you plundered his mouth, all sense of restraint shattered. His hand started moving again in time to your kiss, trying to - oh hell no.

You needed more.

You needed him.

Surprising him, you reached and flipped his hand over, then him, still breathing hard from before. Your eyes were filled with lust as you straddled him and, without preparation, sank down onto him as much as you could take at this angle, throwing your head back while letting out a loud moan of satisfaction.

Your whole body shuddered as your hips jerked involuntarily, the feeling of him filling you so completely, almost too much but so good.

“Fuck, baby!” he choked out, his head slamming back into the pillow.

“That’s the idea,” you said, voice dripping with sex, only giving him a second or two before you start to ride him.

He couldn’t decide which was better.

Having the power to make you lose all self-control, completely at his mercy, or lying back and letting you take what you want from him.

Luckily, he didn’t have to choose.

It was like celebrating your confession; there were no more secrets, no more games, and no holding back between you two, finally.

Groaning, he ran his hands up your thighs and caressed the curve of your waist, coming around to knead your backside. Mesmerized by how fluidly you were moving, he watched in awe as your body prepared for yet another release. Rapidly reaching your peak again, he rubbed your with his thumb while his other hand tweaked and pulled your nipple. Your fingers curl, nails scraping his chest as you clenched hard around him, almost bringing him with you but he somehow managed to hold back.

Barely.

For now.

Dazed from multiple orgasms, you were not exactly sure how but he suddenly had you on your stomach, body pressed into the bed by his, the fingers of one hand interlaced with your own. He started off slowly, making sure you could handle it. He picked up the pace when you arched your back for an even better angle, giving his free hand room to sneak underneath your hips and play with you. Crushing your entwined hands together, you frantically reached out for anything else to hold on to, gripping the side of the bed with your other hand as he pounds into you from above.

Your mouth locked open, sobbed into the bed with every thrust, bringing you higher and higher until you were exploding, your whole body trembling with shockwaves originating from the epicenter where you were connected. His face was covered in sweat, cursing as he spilled into you with a deep, feral growl, finally letting go.

As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the tall window, you gradually roused from sleep, reluctant to open your eyes. It felt as if you were resting on a soft, fluffy cloud, completely weightless. A wave of happiness washed over you, and you silently chided yourself for not embracing this morning magic sooner. After mustering enough courage, you finally confessed your feelings for him, and Harry’s efforts truly deserved a reward.

Just then, your phone alarm buzzed loudly from inside your bag on the floor, breaking the tranquil moment.

Ugh, of course, it was Thursday.

Damn it!

Realizing you were still face down on the bed, you wished you could just stay there forever. As you swung your legs over the side and reached out, you felt the empty space next to you. Had Harry already gotten up? You yawned and looked around. “Harry?” you called out sleepily.

The bathroom door swung open, and there he was, toothbrush in hand, foamy mouth and all. He shot you a smile that made you giggle. “Good morning, beautiful,” he managed to say through the toothpaste.

“Morning, ol' man,” you teased.

He frowned dramatically and went back to rinse his mouth before returning to you. “Ol' man, huh?” he asked, sitting on the bed. You wrapped your arms around him. “My ol' man,” you replied, kissing him, and he kissed you back.

“Are you getting me back for calling you 'kitty'?” he mocked, leaning in for another quick kiss. “Maybe,” you said with a playful grin and kissed him again.

You wanted to lose all sense of time in this room with him, wrapped up in nothing but kisses, but you had to get moving. “I’ve got to go to work,” you mumbled, breaking the kiss, reluctantly.

He grimaced. “Can’t you just skip today?”

“It's Thursday, Harry. Besides, don’t you have work to get to?” you reminded him as you slid out of bed.

“Actually, there’s something I wanted to tell you, and—” he murmured.

“Hmm?” You looked at him.

Just then, Harry's phone rang.

“I’ll be in the shower,” you said as you walked over.

He sighed and answered the call.

After using the toilet, you stepped into the shower, only for Harry to sneak in behind you. He quickly shed his pants and joined you under the warm water, wrapping his arms around you for another kiss, making you giggle.

“Looks like you were right; I guess I have to get to work too,” he said while turning on the water.

You kept kissing as the water poured over you, both of you unable to stop touching each other. Harry was super gentle as he massaged shampoo into your hair, clearly enjoying it. You returned the favor, and it felt so much nicer than just a simple swap.

As you both walked out of the hotel, Oliver showed up, carrying a bag that smelled amazing. “Here’s a quick breakfast for you,” he said, handing it over.

You glanced at Harry, who was smiling cockily. “I didn’t want you heading off to work all hungry.”

You smiled widely, leaning in to kiss him. “Thank you. And... I love you.”

He smiled back. “I love you too,” he said, giving you another kiss.

Oliver laughed, clapping his hands. “Now that’s the sight I needed to see. Congratulations. I can die happy now.”

You both shared a joyful laugh and leaned in for another kiss, celebrating your love.

Harry and Oliver offered to drop you off near the building, but you declined, knowing you still had plenty of time and weren’t running late. After saying goodbye to them, a smile crept onto your face as you made your way to the entrance.

You were now Harry Castillo’s girlfriend—something that turned out to be less daunting than you’d imagined.

Lost in thought as you approached the building, a sudden screech of brakes pulled you back to reality. Startled, you turned to find a little girl who had just fallen to the ground. You hurried to her side. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

Meanwhile, the driver of the car was shouting, “Watch it, kid! Do you want to get hurt?”

Fuming, you yelled back, “You should be the one watching out! Don’t yell at her; can’t you see she’s terrified? Come on, sweetheart.”

Once you reached the sidewalk, you crouched down to check the scrape on her knee. “Does it hurt?”

“I wasn’t scared,” she replied defiantly. “I could have handled myself against him.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "Oh, absolutely, I’m sure you could. I was just looking out for you, you know. Girls have to look out for each other, right?" You winked at her.

She laughed. "I think so too, thanks. It’s just a scrape, really."

“Let’s swing by the pharmacy for a bandage,” you insisted.

“No need; I can take care of it. I'm already where I want to be, and I’m sure there are some first aid supplies at the house,” she said as she headed toward the building where you work.

You quickened your pace to catch up. "Do you live here? I actually work here."

She glanced at you, curious. “Not really. I’m just trying to get away from my parents’ drama for a bit. I thought I’d use my Uncle Harry’s place while he’s away.”

You suddenly froze.

No way, it couldn’t be.

Must just be a coincidence with the name or something.

“Did you say Harry? Does he live in this building?”

As you headed for the elevator, the girl nodded. “Yeah, he’s on the top floor, in the penthouse.”

Another wave of shock hit you.

Taking a deep breath, you asked, “Is your Uncle Harry's last name Castillo, by any chance?”

“So you know him?” she said, sounding casual.

But you were anything but casual, your mind racing.

Nodding, “Yeah, I know him,” you said in barely more than a whisper.

Thanks for reading! I really appreciate your comments, likes, and reblogs. I'd love to hear what you think about the chapter!

here's the taglist...

@balhoneysweetstuff @orcasoul @pedroslut4eva @lailathepedritofan @queenofodds @darkheartgatita @ccmoonshine @suzysface @javiismyhsbnd @aurorathegreekprincess @daejangandimja @longlivekingminnn @jisungandpedrolover @urlivingdeadgirl @laliceee @sincerelywithheartt @indiegirlunited @fancyyoouu @blackborndue @shinymusicpanda @her-fandom-sanctum @aegoniipascal @zanylightmilkshake @bonadeaamo @spencercmlover @heramj @pedroloverbilmemkac @churchofjoemiller @urlivingdeadgirl @thanyatargaryen @icanbringyouinhot @universallygentlemenharmony @bitchyfestnight @sukivenue @l1zzygr0nt @pedrofan @javiismyhsbnd @00honey @brittmb115 @picketniffler @javiismyhsbnd @00honey @kneelarmhstrung @zanylightmilkshake @melsunshine @inept-the-magnificent @catofash @secretlettersfromyourlove @pedge-page @speaktothehandpeasants @krystal---meth @pasc4lfuzz @brittmb115 @behomewhenthestreetlightscomeon @kneelarmhstrung @pedrofan @l1zzygr0nt @sukivenue

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lots of love 💋💋❤️❤️

#fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal gifs #ao3 fanfic #harry castillo fanfiction #harry castillo #harry castillo x you #harry castillo x reader #the materialists #materialists

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noorpersona · 3 months ago

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Pregnancy: Kuroo (NSFW)

You’re not sure when it started. Maybe sometime last week, maybe even before that—but the switch flipped quietly, without warning. One minute you were just a little tired, a little bloated, trying to get comfortable with the weird limbo that is second trimester pregnancy. And the next?

You were staring at your husband like he was carved from marble. Like every movement of his arms under that damn fitted black t-shirt was offensive. Like the way his voice dipped when he answered a work call should be punishable by law.

You hadn’t touched him in days—partly because you were tired, partly because the two of you were still adjusting to the wave of appointments and vitamins and new routines. But now, now your skin feels too tight for your body. You can’t stop thinking about his hands. His stupid smirk. The stretch of muscle across his stomach when he reaches for the top shelf. You keep shifting in your chair at the kitchen table, thighs pressed together as you half-watch him move around the apartment, trying not to combust every time he bends to grab something or stretches his arms over his head like a personal attack.

You're four months pregnant, and your hormones are holding you hostage.

But how the hell are you supposed to say that? Hey honey, I want you so bad it’s making me delusional? You’re turning me on just by walking?

You'd rather burst into flames.

So instead, you sit quietly, pretending to scroll through your phone while your eyes flicker up to him every ten seconds like a heat-seeking missile. You’re trying to be subtle. You really are.

Unfortunately for you, Kuroo Tetsurou has known you long enough to spot a mood shift from fifty paces away—and he’s been watching. Smugly. Patiently. Waiting.

The first hint that you’ve been caught comes when he strolls by with a bowl of chopped strawberries, casually plucks one from the bowl, and leans over to offer it to you without a word. You’re caught off guard, lips parting automatically as he feeds it to you. Your teeth graze the tip of his fingers, just barely, and his lips twitch.

He doesn’t move. Just watches you chew. Slow. Calm.

Then, in a voice dipped in dry amusement: “You’ve been staring at me for twenty minutes.”

You blink, swallow. “I haven’t.”

“Mm,” he hums, straightening up. “Sure you haven’t.”

You grit your teeth. Heat burns your cheeks. You can already feel the spiral beginning.

He doesn’t press. Just walks around the kitchen like he didn’t just call you out for mentally undressing him on the spot. His movements are so casual it’s infuriating. He grabs a dish towel, wipes down the counter, opens the fridge, all while your brain is on fire.

You stare down at your phone, eyes unfocused, and will yourself to get it together. You just need to act normal. You’re not gonna combust. It’s fine. It’s just hormones.

“You okay?” he asks, voice far too neutral. You glance up. He’s leaning against the counter now, arms crossed over that broad chest, eyebrow lifted in feigned innocence.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You’re flushed.” His head tilts. “You hot?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

You shift in your seat, pressing your knees together. “Yes.”

Another pause. Then:

“You hungry?”

Your eyes shoot to him instinctively—and that’s when you realize he knows. Not just suspects. Not maybe. Knows.

And worse: he’s enjoying it.

Your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. You look away again, hands gripping your phone like it might save you from yourself.

When he crosses the room, you don’t even notice until he’s crouching beside your chair, resting one arm on the armrest, the other hand brushing lightly over your thigh. You freeze.

“Sweetheart,” he says, voice dipped in syrup, eyes glinting with something dangerous, “you’ve been lookin’ at me like you want to climb me.”

You blink rapidly. “That’s not—”

“You sigh every time I stretch.” His fingers trace up to your knee. “You squirm when I talk. You’ve eaten, slept, and had your iron supplements. So unless there’s a sudden new strawberry emergency—”

“Tetsuro.”

“—I think,” he murmurs, leaning closer, “there’s something you’re not saying.”

You bury your face in your hands, groaning into your palms. “This is so embarrassing.”

He laughs softly, warm breath fanning over your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your temple. “It’s adorable.”

“It’s feral, Tetsu. I feel like a monster.”

“Monsters don’t look at me like that,” he says, voice low against your skin. “They don’t whimper every time I bend over.”

You groan louder, but your body leans into him on instinct.

“Say it,” he teases. “C’mon. Say you want me.”

“I hate you.”

“You want me.”

“I’m four months pregnant and deranged, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Oh, baby,” he grins, pulling you gently into his lap, “you’re carrying my kid and horny for me? I’m the luckiest bastard alive.”

Mortified beyond recovery, you squirm your way out of his lap, muttering something unintelligible as you bolt from the kitchen. It’s half an attempt to escape, half a desperate grab for your dignity. You make it three steps into the hallway before you hear him laugh—low and knowing—and then feel his hands at your hips.

“Where d’you think you’re going?” he murmurs, lips brushing the curve of your ear as he tugs you back against him. “You’re not getting away from me after saying all that.”

You fumble for a response, but it vanishes the second his hands find the hem of your shirt, fingertips grazing your skin with unbearable slowness. You tilt your head back without thinking, breath catching.

“Tetsurou—”

“Yeah?” he answers, already kissing down your neck, voice infuriatingly calm. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

You don’t. You can’t.

Instead, your hands find his wrists and guide them higher. You melt into him like wax to flame.

“Good girl,” he breathes against your jaw. “That’s more like it.”

Before you can catch your breath, he has you gently turned, your back pressing against the hallway wall. His hands settle firmly on your hips, then slide lower, fingers working with a confidence that has your knees buckling. You gasp when he pops the button of your pants, the sound deafening in the quiet space between your bodies.

“Tetsurou—”

“Shh,” he murmurs, his lips brushing over your collarbone with the lightest graze, voice so low and deliberate it sends a pulse through your spine. His hand dips beneath the waistband of your underwear with a languid slowness, his knuckles dragging along your skin like he wants you to feel everything.

“Let me take care of you, yeah? You’ve been trying so hard to hold it together.”

You inhale sharply as his fingers slide deeper, seeking out the ache you’ve been trying to ignore for days. When he finds it—you—it’s like your body short-circuits. Your breath stutters, hips jolting forward as if your body’s been waiting for this exact moment, this exact touch.

His fingers move with maddening precision—expert and unhurried—stroking you in a rhythm that melts the strength from your knees. He presses you harder into the wall, not with force but weight, anchoring you there while your body twists and trembles under his control. His mouth trails along your neck, slow kisses blooming across your pulse point as you gasp, the sound catching in your throat.

"Just relax, sweetheart," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin, "Let me make it better."

Your hands cling to his arms, fingers digging into his sleeves as your body arches into him. The tension coils tighter and tighter, strung high by weeks of restrained want, the heat of your own embarrassment fueling the need. He murmurs low praise into your skin—good girl, so soft, so perfect, so fucking sweet like this—and the words alone nearly undo you.

And when you do come, it’s a quiet, raw thing—your body trembling in his hold, face tucked against his shoulder, a muffled cry of Tetsurou slipping from your lips like confession. He holds you steady through it, one arm around your waist, the other still curled low, fingers easing you through every last tremor.

When your breathing slows, when the fog begins to lift, his hand gently slips free and he cradles your face, brushing back damp strands of hair with the same fingers that just unraveled you.

“God, you’re perfect,” he whispers, his forehead resting against yours. “My gorgeous, needy wife. All mine.”

Your breath comes out in short, shaky bursts, still reeling, still trembling in his hands. “I can’t believe I—” you start, but the words collapse in your throat, too breathless, too flustered to finish.

Tetsurou chuckles softly, and before you can even think about collecting yourself, he’s hooking one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, lifting you with effortless strength.

You yelp, arms flying around his neck as he princess carries you down the hallway, your face burning hot against his shoulder. “Tetsu—! What are you doing?!”

He glances down at you, grin smug, eyes molten. “You didn’t think we were done, did you?” he murmurs, already walking with you in his arms toward the bedroom. His voice is velvet and heat, wrapped around every word, promising more. “I’ve got you all night, baby. You’re not going anywhere.”

788 notes · View notes

demie90s · 19 days ago

Note

okay so juju and reader where juju is js down bad for this girl, if you look at her tiktok? reader. if she post on her story it has something to do with reader, she’s wiped asf for reader loving her in private and public. bonus if juju follows her around on the basketball court

Whipped Doesn’t Even Cover It

Juju x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

MASTERLIST | MORE

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:Everyone knows JuJu Watkins is that girl on the court—but off the court? She’s completely down bad for you.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ:Fluff, clingy obsession, public affection, basketball romance, social media vibes

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:Mild language, intense thirsting, TikTok-level public displays of affection

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: ~

I swear, that girl is everywhere.

Every time I turn around, she’s there. Waiting. Watching. Hovering like she’s part of my shadow. Like she’s trying to learn how to move like me, breathe like me, be me. And she makes it look good. Never awkward, never needy—just present. Like I’m gravity and she’s stuck in orbit.

It started slow. I’d catch her glancing during drills, handing me my water bottle when I didn’t ask, offering to rebound for me like it was her life’s mission. Cute, right? Until I scrolled on TikTok one night and found a video of me walking down the tunnel set to slow R&B. Her caption? “She don’t even know I’d ruin my whole life for her.”

Five thousand likes in under an hour.

Then it was the reposts. Every selfie I posted, she shared it. Commented “my girl” like she had a title. One time I posted a gym pic and she tagged it with “this the reason my knees hurt.” I didn’t even respond—I just showed up to practice the next day wearing her hoodie like I was claiming her back. She didn’t say anything about it, but the way she smiled told me I’d just made her whole month.

And don’t let us play against each other in scrimmages. JuJu? She don’t guard me. She trails me. Like a heat-seeking missile. Even when the coaches yell at her to switch, she shrugs it off, eyes locked on me like, “Nah. I got this.” One time I said, “You know I’m not gonna go easy on you.” And she grinned and said, “You never do. That’s why I like it.”

Tell me how I’m supposed to keep a straight face after that?

Today in open gym, she didn’t even try to hide it. Wouldn’t stop staring. Every time I touched the ball, she perked up. When I hit a three, she clapped harder than the whole gym. I jogged past her once and caught her mouthing “goddamn” under her breath. Subtlety? Gone. She follows me around like I’ve got the answers to her soul. And honestly… I kinda do.

She waited for me after, too. I took my time in the locker room just to see if she’d stay. She did. Sat right outside, scrolling through her phone like it didn’t matter that it was already dark and cold as hell. I walked out, hair wet, hoodie half-zipped, and she stood up like she’d just seen a miracle.

“You hungry?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Always.”

She opened the door for me, real quiet. Like we were in a movie. Like I was something delicate. But there’s nothing soft about the way she looks at me. Not sweet. Not innocent. Hungry. Like she’s waiting for permission to love me harder.

And the crazy part?

I haven’t told her no. Not once.

It got worse—or better, depending how you look at it—when we all went out.

Just a few teammates, chill spot, some plates, some laughs. I didn’t even invite her directly. Somebody else mentioned it in the group chat and JuJu just… showed up. Like always. No questions, no hesitation. She pulled up in sweats, slides, and a fitted hat like she’d been ready all day.

I sat down at the table and before I could even take off my jacket, she was already pulling the chair out next to mine. Ordered for herself, then asked if I wanted anything before the waitress left. I didn’t even answer fast enough—she ordered my go-to without blinking. Girl knew my entire menu history like she studied it.

Then came the food. She barely touched her own plate before sliding a piece toward me with her fork. “Taste this. You’ll like it.” I did. Ate it right off her fork, too. No hesitation. No shame. Everyone saw. No one said anything—until my dumbass friend across the table raised a brow and went, “Y’all dating or what?”

I just rolled my eyes and kept chewing. JuJu? She grinned like she won a bet. Wiped the corner of my mouth with her thumb and said, “We just locked in.” And nobody argued.

She paid for my meal. Held the door open on the way out. Took my leftovers in her hand like it was her job. She even offered me her hoodie when the wind picked up, despite the fact that she was wearing a damn tank top underneath. I didn’t ask. She just shrugged and said, “Don’t want you getting cold.”

I let her.

I let her do all of it. Every sweet, extra, clingy, girlfriend-coded thing. Because truth is? I like it. I like the way she moves around me. I like the way she sees me. Like I’m something worth orbiting. Like I’m the only reason she even showed up.

And maybe… I am.

@draculara-vonvamp @non3ofurbusiness @kajspeaks

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vanteguccir · 1 year ago

Text

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFAKE SMILE * CHRIS STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　Where Chris records a TikTok with Tara after many requests from both fandoms, but fans reacted contrary to what he expected, generating questioning thoughts in Y/N.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　crying, comparison, fighting.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

The morning sun beamed beyond the half-open curtains in the living room, painting the room with orange and gold tones. Sitting at the kitchen table, Y/N immersed herself in her books, trying to focus on her notes as the sounds of Nick and Matt echoed around the house.

At that moment, Chris was absent. He had gone to Tara's house, a new friend of the triplets and, consequently, of Y/N, who had recently become a frequent figure in their lives. The objective was to record a video for Tara's channel since after the large group's social media post together, both fandoms started begging for collabs.

As Y/N immersed herself in her studies, a notification flashed on her phone screen. The girl looked up at her device, seeing the new message.

pretty boy: hi baby!! look, we did a tiktok! I look so cool: link.

A smile curved Y/N's lips as she clicked on the link, curious to see the result of one of Chris and Tara's creations. The video started, and she immediately recognized the song as one of her favorites, humming softly as her eyes captured the funny dance and interaction between the two.

A laugh escaped her lips when she saw Chris shaking his head in the lyrics "Would you get down on knees for me?", remembering all the times the song played when they were together, and exactly in this part, Chris always got down on his knees in front of Y/N, making her laugh.

For a moment, Y/N allowed herself to relax and enjoy the scene. It was a genuine demonstration of their new friendship, and Y/N felt grateful to be part of that dynamic.

However, her joy was momentary.

As the video came to an end, Y/N scrolled through the comments, eager to see the reaction of Tara's followers. What she found left her cold.

Among the funny and complimentary comments, there was a barrage of messages that cut like sharp knives. Ardent fans of both Tara and Chris were heavily shipping them, completely ignoring Chris's long-standing and public relationship with Y/N.

"Chris and Tara are so cute together!"

"I so wanted them to be a couple 😭"

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but you don't hold a candle to Tara. Chris deserves someone like her."

The words echoed in Y/N's mind, like a distant echo of an approaching storm. She felt a tightness in her chest, a mixture of sadness, anger, and confusion.

How could they be so cruel? How could they judge their relationship based on fragments of a distorted reality? Y/N felt vulnerable, exposed to the relentless cruelty of the virtual world.

Her thumb moved automatically as she left the comment box, sliding the screen to the TikTok below the one she was watching, craving a quick distraction. But her hope was suddenly dashed when she saw that the next video was an edit of Chris and Tara's TikTok and all the others after.

She knew the fans were fast, but at that moment, she wanted them to be as slow as possible.

Y/N closed the app with a heavy sigh, fighting to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. It was difficult not to let the strangers' words and opinions get to her.

With a determined effort to forget about it momentarily, Y/N turned her attention back to the books, seeking refuge in the comforting familiarity of the printed pages, forgetting to answer Chris.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The day was coming to an end. In the room shared by Y/N and Chris, the atmosphere was filled with a silent energy, interrupted only by the gentle slide of Y/N's fingers over her phone screen, and the low sounds of various videos.

She was lying in their bed, having already taken a comforting shower, but her mind was still shrouded in a haze of dark thoughts. As she scrolled through her TikTok's For You, romantic edits of Chris and Tara popped up with disturbing frequency. Y/N's expression was a mixture of sadness and self-questioning, her eyes reflecting an inner storm.

She felt her mind defeat her with thoughts of comparison. She knew she would never reach Tara's beauty, humor, and even body.

The heavy atmosphere was interrupted by the sound of the door opening gently. Chris entered the room, radiating an aura of euphoria. His eyes sparkled with joy, and a smile spread across his face with ease.

"Hi, my pretty girl!" Chris greeted, closing the door behind him. "You won't believe how amazing the video with Tara turned out. I can't wait for her to post it so you can see it!"

"Hey, baby! I'm so happy you had fun." Y/N looked up from her cell, forcing a smile on her lips, trying with all her might not to reveal her current state - the last thing she wanted to do was ruin Chris's excitement, but the sadness still hovered in her eyes.

Chris immediately noticed the change in her expression and approached the bed, worried.

"What happened, babe?" He asked in a worried tone, frowning and sitting down next to her.

She just shook her head slightly, unable to put her tumultuous thoughts into words. Chris reached out to caress her face gently, seeking to comfort her with his loving touch.

"You didn't answer my text, I really thought something was happening... You know you can tell me anything, right?" Chris continued gently. He didn't want to force anything out of her.

Y/N nodded, feeling a lump form in her throat. Before he could say anything else, Chris noticed the phone in her hand with almost silent sounds escaping from the speaker, leaning over to peer at the screen.

Romantic edits of Chris and Tara filled Y/N's device. He swallowed hard, instantly connecting the dots.

Chris's comforting touch on Y/N's face seemed to turn cool. His eyes narrowed slightly, and a sigh escaped his lips before he could control it.

"Y/N, are you really upset because of these silly edits?" The boy questioned, his voice filled with disbelief. His touch against the warm skin disappeared within seconds, the boy removing his hand from her face before sitting down on the bed.

Y/N flinched at the accusation implicit in his words, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable. Tears threatened to overflow her eyes as she struggled to find a coherent response.

"It's not just because of the edits..." She, her voice shaking with turbulent emotions. "Did you see the comments? They-"

Chris shook his head impatiently, cutting her off abruptly, frustration beginning to seep into his expression. He couldn't understand why something as trivial as fan edits could affect his girlfriend so much.

"Y/N, this is ridiculous!" He continued firmly. "These edits and comments don't mean anything. They're just fan jokes. It's not the end of the world." His voice came out louder than before, his posture now rigid.

His words hit Y/N like a sharp knife, making her feel even more inadequate and misunderstood. Anger bubbled inside her, a simmering mix of resentment and hurt.

"You don't understand, Chris!" She snapped, her voice shaking slightly. Her right hand worked to lock the screen of her phone in one quick motion, tossing it aside. "This isn't just about the edits. It's about how I feel about being compared to Tara, about how it's making me feel inferior to her! How would you feel if people started wanting to see me with a man other than you? While I'm in a relationship with you!"

Chris rolled his eyes dismissively, his patience beginning to wear thin at the intensity of Y/N's emotions.

“You’re so tiring sometimes, Y/N.” He snapped without thinking, his voice tinged with irritation, not giving a damn about how his girlfriend felt. "I can't deal with all this insecurity all the time. It's fucking exhausting."

The words hit Y/N like a punch to the gut, leaving her breathless, her rigid posture quickly crumbling. She felt tears run down her face without force as the painful realization settled in her heart.

She was tiring. She was insecure. She was too much for him to handle.

The pain of rejection burned in her chest as she retrieved her phone again, ripping the comforter off her legs. Her lips were pressed into a thin line tightly in an attempt to stop the ugly sobs that she wanted to let out. She wouldn't give herself the luxury of showing Chris how much he hurt her.

The girl got up from the bed in one quick movement, grabbing her pillow and heading towards the bedroom door.

"Where are you going?" Chris's voice echoed harshly behind her, his body rising from the mattress quickly.

"I'll sleep in the living room." Y/N responded curtly, turning the handle with ease before walking through the door, slamming it, feeling more alone than ever amidst the multitude of turbulent emotions.

She could feel her heart being crushed a little more when she didn't hear Chris call for her again, let alone try to reach her.

The stairs leading to the living room were silent, and her pillow clutched to her chest as a last vestige of comfort in a world that seemed to be falling apart around her. Each step up echoed like a lonely echo in an emotional void that seemed to swallow her whole.

Upon reaching the living room, Y/N found refuge on the empty couch. She curled into the soft upholstery, hugging the pillow tightly as tears continued to roll down her cheeks silently. The phone rested next to her, emitting a dim light that wouldn't turn off, almost begging her to pick it up again.

Hours dragged by like centuries as Y/N fought the ghosts of her own mind.

At some point, she had given up resisting and was on her TikTok again. The algorithm seemed to hate her, delivering her frequent videos of Chris and Tara, which were like a sharp dagger in her heart.

They would really look beautiful together.

Dawn fell heavily upon her, but sleep refused to welcome her into its comforting arms. Instead, she found herself trapped in a whirlwind of torturous thoughts, her mind pounding incessantly with doubts and questions about her relationship with Chris.

Until her brain shuts down completely, letting tiredness win.

At 3 a.m., in the darkness of the night, a familiar figure appeared at the entrance to the room. Chris was there, his tired face etched with worry and regret.

His eyes quickly found Y/N's figure lying on the couch, already asleep, curled up and shivering slightly from the cold. Her eyes were closed, but he could see the swelling that surrounded them, the traces of tears on her cheeks and her still damp face. Next to her, her phone repeatedly played one of the videos she had watched before falling asleep.

A lump formed in Chris's throat. He intensely blamed himself for not having thought before acting and, much less, noticing how much his actions had affected his girlfriend.

With hesitant steps, he approached her, feeling the weight of his own anguish on his shoulders.

Gently, Chris turned off her phone, cutting the endless cycle of pain that had consumed Y/N. He then crouched down beside her, studying her peaceful face with a mixture of love and pain.

With a resigned sigh, the boy carefully took her into his arms, hooking them around her back and behind her knees, feeling the weight of her fragile body against his own chest. Y/N hummed softly in response to his touch but didn't fully wake up.

Chris carried her down the stairs and back to their bedroom, where the soft light from the lamp bathed the room in yellow tones. Tenderly, he placed her on the soft mattress, covering her with the comforter carefully so as not to wake her.

Y/N shifted slightly under Chris's touch and the new surface beneath her limbs, her eyebrows furrowing in an expression of discomfort. She looked restless, as if she were immersed in a nightmare.

Chris watched her for a moment, feeling the weight of his own harsh words weigh on him like an anchor. He knew he had hurt Y/N deeply, and the pain of seeing her suffer was almost unbearable.

With a heavy sigh, he sat down next to her, his hand reaching for her with a tentative touch. Y/N stirred slightly, her eyes finally slowly opening to meet Chris's. She fought the urge to get up and leave the room again, her anger at Chris's actions and sadness in her mind, making her want to avoid him.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, sharing a silent understanding that transcended words, Y/N making the decision to let him say what he wanted.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Chris muttered, his voice thick with regret. "I was insensitive and selfish. I didn't want to hurt you, I acted on impulse and completely without thinking. This whole situation is not silly if it hurts and bothers you, and I promise that we can talk better about what you saw and how you felt, and solve this together... Just please, give me this chance?"

Y/N blinked slowly, her eyes locked on Chris's as she processed his words. For a moment, she felt the weight of hurt and disappointment pressing against her, but then she saw the sincerity in Chris's eyes, the pure, unconditional love he had always offered her.

And in that moment, she knew that forgiveness was the only good choice to make. With a sigh, she squeezed Chris's hand tenderly, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders.

"Just one chance. I want you to fix what you did and do it right this time."

2K notes · View notes

nani-nonny · 3 months ago

Note

Explain the premise for the people in the back who forgot their glasses

I am staring at the big screen five inches from my face and I need it to be expliained with DETAIL

I’m assuming this is about SATAS… (Seeking Answers Through A Scroll)

But basically this idea takes place instead of the movie :D

In a timeline where Casey Jr doesn’t get time gateway’d to the past, the key is used to release the Krang and the apocalypse begins. The Hamatos seek shelter in the Hidden City immediately, sneaking humans and yokai alike to safety out of sight of the Krang for the first few months. But they can only do so much before the Krang discovers the underground hideout harboring hundreds—perhaps thousands—of survivors.

So it’s up to the Hamatos to figure out a new hiding place, away from the growing forces that make up the Krang hive.

And when all hope is dwindling, stress rising to new levels, Mikey seeks out the help of the Hamato ancestors through the family scroll. And from it, he manages to protect his family and the survivors from being discovered through the help of one ancestor in particular.

But who is this ancestor? They don’t arrive when summoned or asked for, only arriving when they like.

Spoilers vvvvv

This ancestor is someone who is not technically an ancestor, nor are they someone who has passed like the other ancestors, but one of the Hamato brothers from the future that “answered” Mikey’s desperate “call” for help.

Mikey’s powers (unknowingly) create a line crossing between present and future that connects to a Hamato Scroll on the “other side”.

I’m still debating which brother to be the “ancestor” but I’m weighing heavily on F!Leo. F!Donnie is a very close second, but F!Mikey jumped up in my fic plotting and could very well rise to second if my brainworms continue feeding on his idea.

The other side of the line’s story shifts slightly depending on the future brother, but I won’t be beating myself over who it will be because, as of the moment, this fic idea is merely an idea. For now… :D

I can’t guarantee when I’ll focus on it because of my ongoing fics that are on hiatus hehe

Hopefully we’ll see this fic in the future

#seeking answers through a scroll #nani nonny answers

12 notes · View notes

belovedcloud · 1 year ago

Text

Such A Sweetheart

pairing: sugar daddy! leon kennedy x fem! reader

✎ synopsis: you need money quick, and what's a good way of getting quick money? a sugar daddy. you find a man but he treats you so good that maybe this may blossom into something other than a transactional relationship?

✎ notes: this is a longgggg one, i decided to try making a long one and writing this up at work every day for weeks was a struggle but i did it! if only sugar daddy leon was real :(

➤ WC: 10K

➤ CW: age gap, reader is in low 20's whilst leon is low 40's, talks about leon's alcohol struggles and practically his life, reader wears a dress, oral, fingering, dirty talk kinda??? not really, lots of kisses, maybe something more than a sugar daddy and sugar baby relationship, p in v, cumming on you, fluff at the end.

MINORS DNI!

Leon Scott Kennedy was a dirty man. That's how he saw himself. The masses of bioweapons he killed every mission tarnished his being. There was no escape for him. Nothing could save him from what he saw fit for his life. All he could ever be was tool for the government, someone who they could rely on each time to discard the tragedies of the world. They didn't care who they affected, as long as the government were safe that's all that mattered.

Leon knew that. He knew he wouldn't be able to leave. Leaving the job behind was a massive no. What if something happened? What if another incident like Raccoon City occurred?

He was bound to everything of horror. Gore, blood, death. He had seen it all, he had experienced it all. The killings of his superior, Jack Krauser alongside the dumpster of death that trailed beside Leon. It was his shadow. All he could do was bare with it. Nothing could save him, until you came around.

You needed money - just being able to live was costly and jobs were going left, right and centre. No matter what you did, you couldn't grab a job. It was out of your reach. You flooded every company with applications; they were bound to have known you by now. Despite that, an interview was never handed to you. Rent was coming up and what else could you do?

Find a sugar daddy? It was your only choice so... yeah. You were going to find a sugar daddy.

Doing some research and finding out that there were multiple sites to find one. Clicking on the top site, sugardaddykwiky.com, brought you to profiles of many men. Many older men. You weren't going to be picky, there was no time to pick and choose who you wanted.

Clicking on your profile, you start to upload pictures of yourself. No explicit ones, just ones of your face and a safe for work full body image of yourself. Furthermore, to try and attract more men you type a little description about you. This would entice for men right? Soon enough, your little question was answered. Yes. Men flooded your messages, nearly all of them sending the same message of 'Hey' with a pet name in front of it. Maybe you were going to be picky, they all weren't that attractive. Extremely plain and non-lovable.

Reminding yourself that this wasn't a dating site but a site of seeking money you required, your fingers continued to scroll until a request popped up at the top of the screen.

['LSKENNEDY' wants to chat!]

Leon was shitting himself. He didn't know why or how he was so nervous but it was linked to you. You looked so sweet and innocent, no explicit images nor anything sexual of the sort. It wasn't his type of thing to see tits shoved in his face or somebodies legs spread across the camera. You were different. It was as though you weren't just selling your body to get quick cash.

Scrolling down he read your interests. His eager eyes scanning through your description once then again, and again. Continuously reading before taking a glance at the few pictures he was granted to see of you. He drank in your face, such pretty features plastered on you made his heart flutter.

If you were to take him as your sugar daddy, he made a mental promise to himself that he would take you out on countless dates. Spoil you rotten until you couldn't take it anymore. All it came down to was luck.

Leon was lonely. He was a lonely man. The thought of you brought a sliver of solace into his body. Perhaps you could distract him from chaotic life he lived in. Leon craved love not lust. A deep groan left his lips as he knocked back another glass of whiskey. The malty liquid seeping into the lines of his lips, travelling down his throat. His phone was no longer bright, it was pitch black. A reminder of how his life was.

Before Raccoon City, Leon dreamt one day he would find a love that would course though his life. A deep affection that would last for many years. Decades even. The proposal of a family was always deep in Leon's mind when he was younger. Sure, it was stored away as he didn't find himself to be fit for family life at such a young age... But he knew he would want one some day.

That suggestion slowly dissipated when he gradually got older. He still kept some of his features, that being his dirty blonde hair or his baby blue eyes. But they were permanent. His youthful skin creased and aged overtime and a stern look was etched into face. Completely juxtaposing what he looked like 20 years ago. Yet, your face lingered in his mind as he downed another glass of whiskey.

His phone still remained off as he stared into the wall in front of him. To any normal person it would have been a blank chantry coloured wall. Leon saw it differently as depictions of you clouded his head and vision.

What the fuck was going on with him?

Was this a joke? He believed it was his mind playing tricks on him due to excessive amount of alcohol he consumed. Even after chugging a glass of water to try and sober himself, he still saw you. It annoyed him but not only annoyance filled him. A sense of peace too. The two feelings juxtaposed each other, as if they were fighting to see who would win.

Leon got up, trying to distract the inner conflict he faced. Closing the curtains and sitting in a room of absolute darkness. To no avail the image of you popped up. A growl scrapped his lips as he rubbed his face. His body slouched on the couch, rolling his head back as another noise vacated from him.

He had to do something.

Smacking down the couch he sat on with his calloused hand, he yearned to find his phone. The device jumped up slightly from the force of Leon's actions - soon enough he snatched it up. His thumbpad drummed the screen twice, the light penetrating his eyes as he staggered to find the power button.

"Fucking hell.." A squinted look appeared on his face whilst he scrolled the brightness down. Leon's dull eyes pried at his device, swiping up just to see you again. Fuck. He didn't delete the tab.

You looked gorgeous. An angel in his eyes. Even though you were young and in your low 20's. His mind processed the information once again. Should he feel ashamed? Disgusted? Was he at fault for wanting something romantic with you - even if you were 2 decades younger than him? Surely not, you were of legal age and willing put yourself on the website. The underlying feeling of guilt was questionable to him.

This wasn't wrong per se. It just felt like it.

His leg quivered slightly, his calve continuously smacking the bottom of his couch. Leon's eyes peered into the screen. Why was he so nervous? Get a grip, he thought to himself. A deep sigh left his lips as minutes passed - no response from you.

Your eyes flickered on his profile, an older man of course but... God was he handsome. His blue eyes called out to you, alluring you in to look at his other features. How was a man so beautiful? Early 40's nor did his description have anything sexual. It was quite basic - the perception of secrecy interweaved in it.

Nervously, the pads of your fingers moved subconsciously. Your body scrambled into your bed. The comfort of it didn't ease your heart as you clicked [Accept Request].

Leon's fingers kept refreshing the website to see if you had accepted his request. To his surprise and pleasure, you did. His heart pounded deeply within him, his shaky movements transferred himself into the chat. The miniature profile icon of your face made him go into awe. Your face was truly hypnotic. His lips pressed against the rim of his glass, shakily holding it to his lips to a point where the glass clattered against his teeth.

Leon decided the best option was to at least start the conversation off. What could he say? Perhaps the best option would to go down the basic route, however, by now you must have had multiple men just saying the same thing over and over again. His gaze focused on his phone, his eyes practically burning through the keyboard glazing over the letters trying to figure out a way to wow you.

The constant overthinking led him to not even figuring out a message to send you as your chat-box appeared on his mobile. Frowning to himself, he thought he was pathetic to a point where he couldn't even type to you. He wasn't this nervous in real life so what was going on now? In others eyes, he had charisma even when talking to a few women... But even a simple text message to you and he was about to piss himself.

Your fingers swiftly left a message, you even felt yourself getting nervous. The other chats you faced with different men usually led to the route of using your body to please them. Or they sent their half limped dick positioned in the middle of their palm trying to turn you on. It could be that this Leon Kennedy guy would contrast them. A twinge of hope stay put in your heart to hope so.

After all, he was hot.

You: hi! :)

Leon: Hey sweetheart, how are you?

It was a basic way to start of the conversation. Pretty pathetic in Leon's eyes but he had no idea on what else he could say. A shaky breath left his lips, adjusting himself on his couch trying to get cozy. The pads of his fingers tapping impatiently on the phone case. The inkling of worry still lingered within him as his mind reminded him of your age.

Instantly, a message came through on his behalf. Leon wasted no time to read over your message, he felt like a teenage boy again.

'For Christ sake... Keep it together.'

You: i'm alright, i saw that you aren't really like those other men on here. you're not like showing your dick in your profile or something.

A low laugh erupted from Leon's lips. You did see him different and honestly good. He wasn't one for going straight into the sexual stuff. Even at his age, early 40's and all, he still craved the affection you would receive in a normal relationship. He knew the love would be dependent on the money he sent you - it was better than no love at all.

Typing back with a small smile on his face, his legs uncontrollably stood him up. He walked over to his room, the light thud following him ominously. A dim light covered his figure as he sat down on the edge of his bed, hitting send.

Leon: We'd only get into that if you want to, but I prefer us to know each other a bit more. Don't you?

To say Leon was correct was an understatement, it was like a breath of fresh air. Whilst you wouldn't mind getting in his pants, for a man to not want sex sex sex was refreshing. Yes, it was the bare minimum. Did it make you way more interested though? Absolutely.

A giddy wave of happiness spread into your veins as you kicked your legs up and down. An actual conversation! You could even feel yourself becoming slightly turned on. A little wet patch forming in the middle of your panties. God.. Was this really happening now? Getting turned on by the bare minimum a man could offer?

You: yeah, i would honestly :) it's really refreshing to see someone wanting to talk

The conversation prolonged for an hour or two, both of you understanding the boundaries that Leon and you put place to make this agreement as comfortable as possible. Nonetheless, you were happy with how he was and Leon was ecstatic to know you better. Regardless of the cost that came with it.

He believed that a person like you deserved to spoilt rotten. Just the way you acted with such grace - you were heavenly. Someone who he was happy enough to show you the wonders that money could give you. Alongside his love, but Leon was nervous. He was nervous that you wouldn't understand why he would be gone for days at a time with no response. There was no way in hell he would be able to just tell you straight up that he worked for the DSO. Let alone that he killed B.O.W's.

He pushed his thoughts aside realizing he hadn't even told you how much he would pay you for your time with him. Texting a quick message, he chewed on his bottom lip. The dull ache of it pumping, giving it a faux heartbeat. Pressing send, he groaned into his pillow. The scent of soft linen contrasted the smell of alcohol that loitered on his bedside table. His backup bottle of whiskey awaiting for him to gulp it down like usual.

Instead he resisted, not relying on the alcohol to knock him out. Leon didn't want to drink himself to sleep like usual, he wanted to chat to you a little longer.

It was hard for him to get used to the slang and language you used, back in the 90's the way of communication was way different. After a few key points of explaining he got the meaning of it all. Reminiscing on what you both were talking about moments before - he read back his last message.

Leon: So how much money do you want for your time?

A very simple question for a very simple answer. Wrong. Not in your eyes anyways. You felt bad if you requested too much, you didn't even know how much he made nor how much he had currently. This in itself was the riskiest part of the deal. Would he think you were just a gold digger? Genuine fear paced around you, he wasn't a man who you just wanted to fuck to get money from. Perhaps you were being delusional but you seriously wanted to get to know him. Even perhaps have a relationship blossom between the both of you. Or was that too much to ask for?

Being a sugar baby wasn't toilsome. Whilst you would make him happy, he would reward you with gifts, money.. deep down you even wanted some pleasure. Plausibly, you began to think that Leon would think you were some brat. Even to a point where he'd believe you were some dumb bimbo cock slut who needed cash.

Shit. You needed to reply quick.

Leon was wondering to himself if he did something wrong. Was his question too straight-forward? Too dry? He was always told he wasn't the best at texting. That his texting habits seemed as though he was uninterested at any topic he would text about. He blinked continuously at the screen, this was his first time even trying to get a sugar baby. Were you no longer interested?

He needed your attention, after getting to know you over text he longed to understand more of you. What was it you really wanted? Cash or love? Was it that you were corroded with lust and needed to get dicked down or did you want something romantic? In all honestly both options together sounded like the perfect relationship to Leon. A couple who would love each other both ways, sexually and romantically. That's how a relationship works right? In his eyes anyways.

Leon's mind was clouded with random scenarios of you and him both. He wanted to try all of them out, some less naughty than others but all of them were good in his eyes. Shopping dates getting what you wanted or his head between your thighs giving you what you needed. He felt his jeans tighten around his crotch area. Fuck. Was he really getting off to the idea of just making you happy? Leon's hand travelled down to his bulge. A light squeeze only makes it harden more - can you blame him? You were so beautiful and all he wanted was to treat you right.

A heavy groan elicited out of Leon's throat, waiting for you to respond as he tried to calm himself down. He yearned for your answer. The bouncing of the 3 dots encased around a text bubble enabled Leon to let out a sigh of relief. Taking a deep breath, he eagerly watched for the message he needed.

You: i really don't mind, i don't want to seem greedy or anything so you can choose how much to give me! :)

Shit. How sweet could a girl be? Not only did you agree to be his sugar baby but you didn't mind how much he would pay you for your time? Leon's throat was dry as he took in another breath, trying to calm the bundle of nerves rising inside of his body. His fingers lightly tapped the glass screen in front of him, juxtaposing his thudding heart.

Being a government agent, despite all the trauma from his missions and the devastating events such as in Spain or in China. It gives a hefty sum of money. With the title of 'Government Agent' hung over him, he could afford to spend thousands on you. And he would.

Leon: Don't worry love, how about $1000 for our first meet up? Plus I'll get you whatever you want after a nice lunch. How does that sound?

$1000?! That was basically your rent done minus some utility bills. For one day? Not even a day, a few hours! That was more than what any job paid you for 2 weeks. Shuffling to lay comfortable in your bed, your fingers uncontrollably type a message to Leon showing your thanks to his generosity.

You: $1000?? you really don't have to give me that much but if you do then i really appreciate it! when are you next free?

A small smile appeared on Leon's lips as he read your text back, his body slightly shook from excitement as his eyes traced over your message. He was free most of the time... Well, when he wasn't fighting for his life that is. Leon's missions were quite sporadic at times, not allowing him to have a proper work schedule. In this situation, it was an annoying thing to explain - nonetheless, he wouldn't be able to tell you about it just yet.

His job was risky. Risky business that he didn't want to get you involved in.

Something always hung above Leon's head. Never once in his life after 1998 did he get any peace of mind. It was pure torture to live sometimes. A straight bullet in the head would have ended everything for him. Within Leon, there was a feeling of perseverance. He wasn't allowed to die. Who else could kill the bioweapons and destructive beings that tormented the planet? If only he didn't sign up to go to Raccoon City. That fateful night changed his whole perspective on life. A renewed thought process that could kill the normal human. He himself didn't understand how he could cope. The only answer to him was alcohol, day and night. Bottles stashed in places to feed into his intoxicated addiction.

It saved him; it killed him.

You could perhaps cure the chaos and wreck that occurred in his mind. He was fixated on you. Purely you. He would guide you through the sugar baby life, hand you anything you wanted. Just for your love. Whether or not it was real love, Leon didn't seem to mind. Well - not on the surface at least.

Alone in his apartment, slowly becoming uncomfortable with the solitude that laid next to him. He typed out a message, hoping to see you tomorrow. Next week at the latest. Leon needed a change from his mundane life. Only you could expedite a change within his character.

You were the answer.

Leon: I'm free tomorrow, I can pick you up at noon.

Trailing over the message, you couldn't wait to see him. The whole purpose of tonight was to find a sugar daddy, you got one but he seemed different. Separate from the other lustful men you met on this site. In fact he was different from any man you have ever met. The long hours of the night that you usually had was replaced with a conversation that uplifted your mood and your bank.

Nimble fingers tapped on the keyboard, the phone screen lighting up your face - highlighting the little upturned expression you had plastered on. Impatient to see Leon, you send a fast response back. Demonstrating your need to meet him.

You: okay! i'll see you then, goodnight <3

Feeling happy in your heart, it seemed as though he filled a little hole in your heart. As well as the dissipating view of constant stress you had thinking about your rent due for the month. Things finally started lifting up for you. Maybe now you wouldn't think that you were going to develop wrinkles and grey hairs at such an early age. Being a sugar baby didn't seem all that bad. Flourishing at such a young age without the worry of lack of money seemed good in your books. Granted that others may think lowly of you, who were you to care about someone else's opinion when you prosper in the generosity that Leon was going to bring to you.

A impending thought built within you. This was morally right... right? Taking a lonely mans money didn't really feel like the best idea especially when reading back on the conversation you realized he wasn't some sex freak. He just craved to love and be loved. Were you able to bring him that satisfaction?

A soft smile appeared on Leon's face as he read your message, tomorrow he would be able to meet you. See that pretty face that he's been thirsting to look at for the past few hours of chatting. His fingers constantly tapping on the mini picture next to your chats to zoom into your face. He couldn't get enough of you. His mind purely fixated on you and only you. Was this a curse or a blessing?

Once switching off his phone, he again sat in isolation. Dejection spread all over him as a deep sigh scraped his throat. Why was he always so alone? Even laying in bed for an hour never made it warm, his side cold and the empty space next to him was practically frozen. Leon was going through a rough patch in his life - this patch being 20 years was excessive but he honestly couldn't get out of it. Chained down to his own solitude and remoteness of his home was too much.

Too much for a singular man who just wanted a family of his own one day.

Laying in his own self loathing, Leon breaths slowly mellowed. Keeping himself calm, taking his mind off you slightly - attempting to sleep. To no avail, he still couldn't tranquil his racing heart. A shaky breath soon followed as he crumbled into the soft sheets he bought for himself. Rich and silky cloth immersed his silhouette, his hand over his chest. Leon could feel his heart. Pumping and pumping, the skittish irregular heart embodied his attitude to the situation at hand. Fluttering his eyelids shut, the scenarios of you and him started all over again. Just this time, they felt more real. You were within his reach as his mind continue to run with excitement, love and pure unadulterated desire.

That night, he didn't have a nightmare. No horror; no fear. There wasn't a dream per se, it was just a night of sleep.

Leon's face wasn't twisted with a frown, his lips were slightly parted. Slowly drying as he huffed out a few breaths in his sleep. Dirty blonde locks covering his eyes as a peaceful expression smothered him. The recurring night terrors of Raccoon City didn't appear tonight. Nightmarish prospects didn't shine through his soundless mind to haunt him. The zombies? Gone. The blood? Gone. All remained was a man who just deserved tranquility.

Tonight, he got what he was entitled to.

The blinding sun peeked through Leon's blinds, his body thanked him for the rest. No aching muscles like usual, he leisurely pried his eyes open, a quiet yawn eliciting out of his mouth. God, how late was it? Leon stretched his body whilst he adjusted himself to the light shining through, practically blinding him at first. His fingers tapped against the smooth wood nightstand as he searched for his phone wearily. Clasping his hand around the device he held it to his chest, switching it on to check the time. The bold numbers spoke to him, highlighting 09:30 AM.

Groaning to himself, he got up rubbing his eyes tiredly. Leon got a full nights rest. Unusual but needed a small smile laced his face as he realized what he had to do today. He was going to see you for the first time.

Swinging his legs out of bed, cracking a few places in his bed. A sigh of relief left his lips. Getting up was always the hardest part of his day but today it was the easiest knowing he was looking forward to something which wasn't work related. This time, it was to seek your love, to treat you to whatever you wanted - he was happy to do that. Overjoyed even.

For you it was no different, well except your rapid heartbeat when you realized that this was real. That you were going to see your sugar daddy. Could you even call him that right now? You had to ensure that you looked your greatest for today, it was the least you could do as this man was literally paying you for being there.

Doing your casual routine was normal as usual, your fingers just a little bit shaky from the nerves that coursed through your veins. Hindering your movements slightly as you felt yourself get jumpier by the second. Going through your closet, you choose something you don't really seem to wear often. A dress. A flowy one, he'd like that right? Taking a wild guess and praying to whoever is above you threw it on and fixed up your hair. Midway through, the mobile device on the counter buzzed, catching your attention.

Rinsing and drying your hands, you snatched the phone up and inspected the notification that stood out to you. It was him. You felt your body heating up, your eyes tracing the message.

Leon: I'm outside sweetheart, hope you sent me the right address. :)

Fuck. Outside already? You retract that statement as you swiped down to check the time. Oh. It was already noon. Checking yourself in the mirror, your legs rush downstairs as you put on a pair of heels. You had psych yourself up to even see him. Looking through the little peephole, you saw him.

He was just as handsome as he was online. Even more so in real life. Your heart was pounding, he could probably hear it across the door. Tremulously, your fingers wrapped around your door handle, slightly pushing it down to open the door. Fuck, you got this. It was only a date, and all you had to do was act normal. Normal and sweet. Leon picked you for a reason!

The moment he saw you, his breath hitched. He nearly choked with the air that stood in his throat, his eyes travelling down your figure with the dress that hugged your curves but still flowed with the slight current hitting your body. Leon couldn't believe it, seeing you was heaven right in front of him. A sense of desire permeated his body, longing to touch you. To make you his - he had to stay put. For his own sake.

"Wow, uh hi." A mumble left Leon's throat soon after he cleared it. Nervous couldn't even elucidate his very being after being blessed to even look at you. It wasn't only him with a stomach full of knots wondering if this day was going to turn south.

"Hey, you look... good?" You chuckled out awkwardly. Great start. Embarrassed within yourself, you try and think of something else to say but Leon's words cut through your thoughts. His voice is smooth and rich, like honey, a slight rasp laced in the tone which allures you in.

"Thank you sweetheart, you look beautiful." Too beautiful. His hands slightly twitched, a hunger in Leon wanting to ravish you as his eyes inadvertently trailed down your figure again. Heat bloomed in both of you, eyes practically fucking each other but who was going to act first?

Taking you to his car, Leon's hand glided over the passenger door handle, opening it up for you. A small smile plastered on his lips as his gravelly voice welcomed you in. The leather feel of the car seat hugged your body, adjusting yourself to strap yourself in. Leon soon entered after as he pulled the seatbelt over himself - turning on the ignition at the same time. A comfortable silence hung in the air as the vehicle took you to where Leon wanted to treat you. One hand on the wheel and the other clasping the gearshift to make the ride as smooth as possible.

"Do you want lunch first or do you want to go shopping?" His voice sliced through the tranquility that once lay around you both. Oh wow, so he was serious on treating you? Fiddling with your thumbs you wondered to yourself how you should answer him. Your stomach answered for you very quietly as you looked out the window.

"Lunch, if that's okay?" Your response back made Leon smile as he took a swift turn left, rolling into a small family owned diner. The aesthetically pleasing restaurant enticed you as he guided you inside. Opening the door for you and making the cliché comment 'Ladies first.' The place itself was cozy and warm, a welcoming aura embedded within it as you sat down at one of the booths. Leon, sat across from you, couldn't help but flicker his gaze on you every once in a while as you looked on the menu.

"Found anything you like?" He asked as he flipped through the menu himself, eyeing on the steak pictured in the booklet. His blue eyes soon bored into yours when you met his gaze. A soft smile resting on your face.

"Yeah, I think I know what I want." The softness of your voice was a melody to Leon. A voice that could calm him down even when he felt so nervous just seeing you. A channel of peace that he needed, a tune that could calm him even through the horrors that he faced.

Lunch went smoothly, the chatter amongst you two eased out into a blossoming relationship. Far better than just texting over two measly devices. Leon's gaze wondered over you as you spoke, completely in awe as he thanked himself for going on the website yesterday night. Your beauty surpassed all beings, inside and out you were gorgeous in his eyes. The interests you both shared in music tastes, hobbies and whatnot brought you both together. As if there was chemistry between you two, that idea that you already knew each other so well. You didn't just seem like a sugar baby in his eyes - you were someone who he sought love in. A person who Leon wanted to cherish in every way. The same concept lingered within you too, his presence calmed you down but comforted you in ways you didn't know were possible. He was your sugar daddy, yours.

Still, you and Leon wanted something more with each other. Desires that needed to be satiated soon.

Leon's card pinged as he paid for the meal, the waiter giving his thanks for the generous tip he left. Seeing him waltz off with the tray in his hand. Love filled your body watching Leon treat others so nicely. Fuck. You were falling fast. Too fast that it was scarily fun. His dirty blonde hair covering his eyes ever so slightly, his clean hands slotting the card back into his wallet. The slight veins protruding out, allowing your eyes to travel up his exposed forearms. Moles littered all over them alongside some arm hair.

His watch gleamed from the LED lights above you both, your eyes trailed all over him. This didn't go unnoticed as a little smirk plastered Leon's face. He was about to speak until the waiter came back.

"Here, it's on the house. Candy bags for both of you." The waiter grinned, placing two bags of candy in front of you. Candy? I mean, free candy is always nice. Thank you's left your mouth and Leon inspected the candy inside. Lollipops, hard candy, chewy... Before he looked up, he heard a wrapper rustle.

Your fingers tugged on the wrapper of the lollipop, undressing it for the ball of sugar that stood on a stick. His eyes gazed as you popped it in your mouth. A soft hum of approval muffled between the lollipop and your lips. Those soft plump lips that Leon kept looking at. A pang of jealousy flowed in his veins as he saw the way your tongue swirled the lollipop.

This was going to be a long day.

The ride to the mall was short, the same lollipop in your mouth as your tongue slowly was painted it's colour. You knew the effect you had on him, your head went crazy seeing his eyes glance at you often. No longer to your body, but to those pretty lips you had wrapped around your lollipop. Teasing him a bit more, a quick kitten lick around it made Leon suppress back a groan. Biting his lip hard and snapping his head the other way - pleading to whoever was up there to help him breathe a little.

Delving back into the bag, you grabbed two more lollipops as the mall was close. A small smirk thinning out your lips. Putting them into your purse, the drive came to a close. Leon shifted slightly to ease the stress in his pants. A bit too tight for his liking. Clicking the button, the seatbelt unraveled itself as he got out of his car. Walking over to the passenger side, opening the door up for you.

Taking your hand into his, he guided you out the vehicle, his other arm wrapping around your waist - his hand lightly squeezing it. The large establishment shadowed over you both whilst you walked towards it. Your heart pacing quickening with each step, Leon's hold on you was comforting yet enchanting. An immeasurable thirst building within you.

Shop after shop, Leon's hands started to become full of strings that held up the bags of clothing, makeup and whatnot you decided to get. No objections left him as you picked up something. You want it? You get it. Being treated to that sweet smile you gave him when he said 'yes' was all he could ever want. False. He needed your lips around his cock as he saw you continuously licking and sucking on your second lollipop of the day. That sugary rush secreting in your body, making you a little more hyper than usual.

Leon found himself mentally shouting at his thoughts. The grip on the strings that held the pretty clothes you got for yourself became tight as he scrutinized you. Unable to control himself, a huff left his lips as he continued to see you sucking on the sugary ball.

Fantasizing about you for so long led him to forget what you both were actually doing. Snapping back into reality, he looked away from you and saw you walk into a lingerie shop. Hold on. Wait, what the fuck? Lingerie shop. Leon's breath hitched as he walked in, seeing all the different mannequins brandish the laced items of clothing. He could picture you in the multitude of lingerie pieces that surrounded him - he honestly believed he was going insane. Your arm interlaced with his as you escorted him to the mass amount of fabric beautifully designed for your body.

A smug smile sketched itself on your face as you saw a set of lingerie, grabbing your attention immediately. Taking the lollipop out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you both together - you turn your head to Leon.

"What about this set?" A faux innocence entangled in your tone as your eyelashes flutter at him, the lollipop glistening under the light. Leon forced down a groan as he looked at you - seems like this first meeting was going to turn south at this point. His dick was basically throbbing imagining you in it. How pretty your tits would be, the way he would worship every curve on you.

Damn it. He couldn't think straight.

"Get it." A demanding tone elicited out of his throat, an almost growl as he saw your fingers pick at what cup size you were. The tips of your fingers rubbing against the material, weaving your way through it all. Grabbing what you needed, you looked at him - hunger was apparent in his eyes. He feasted on you, his eyes fucking you once again. Leon couldn't wait anymore, he led you to the till point. His fingers taking out a wad of cash, passing the notes over to the cashier. Not bothering to get his change, he ushered you out.

You could feel yourself getting wet again. What was this spell he had on you? He could just magically cast on you a haze of desire strictly for him. The grip of his hand on yours was tight as he paved the way towards his car. One hand held yours as the other carried the bundle of bags you accumulated in a few hours. Reaching his destination, you stood beside him as he situated the bags in the back of the vehicle, Leon's face in immense concentration as he imagined you in the set. The bulge in his pants becoming heavier and more apparent whilst he led you into the passenger seat. Although he was tense with endless longing for you, his hands were gentle as his fingers lingered on your body for a little while longer than usual. With you in the car, he slammed the car door shut, hurrying over to his side - entering in swiftly.

"You're a damn tease." Leon's voice was hoarse as he started the ignition, his head turned side to side as he reversed. Looking at you from the corner of his eye, he concentrated on that little smile you had on for him. That fucking lollipop still in your mouth. You were a minx.

"I don't know what you're talking about." A teasing tone left your throat, finishing the lollipop and licking your lips to get that sugar coating off. He couldn't help but groan at the sight. His hand slowly wandered off the gearshift and onto your thigh. You could feel a gentle squeezing sensation travel up to your heat. Leon's palm gradually nearing closer and closer - reminding you who was in control.

The sounds of gravel mushing against the wheels of the vehicle alerted you of the end of the journey. However the house in front of you was not one you knew. Leon's house stood proud as the exterior design bestowed a sensation of luxury. Parking the car, he turned his attention to you - looking at you with the same message of need and lust.

"Do me a favour sweetheart," he spoke gravelly, turning to grab a bag from the backseat. "Put this on for me will you?" The tips of your fingers grazed his whilst he passed you the bag. The lingerie combination awaiting to be clung to your body. A nimble nod left you as your throat felt dry. Compressing your thighs together to relieve yourself of the ache for a few seconds, you view Leon as he gets out of the car - going to open your side for you. A slight shake in your legs was visible when you walked towards the front door. The sound of keys jangling looped your ears as your eyes laid upon the inside of the building.

It was beautiful.

The tidiness of the place was outstanding as you walked in. Looking at the place was short-lived as Leon took you into the master bathroom. Your fingers weaved between the strings of the bag gradually opening it up and taking out the prized object. He gave your waist a squeeze and left you inside to change out of your outfit into the revealing piece he bought you.

Leon's heart was racing, his steps to his bedroom was heavy. Opening the door he was welcomed into the familiar room, the scent of freshness coming from his humidifier. Straightening out the sheets, closing the blinds and dimming the lights he palmed his erection slightly. Light pants vacated him, trying to get his thoughts together. You were doing things to him that he hadn't felt in a long time. Looking around the room to make sure everything was perfect, his thoughts were cut short hearing the creaking sound next to him.

There you stood. Your curves accentuated by the set, your bare skin captivating Leon. You felt your breath hitch, awaiting for him to say something. But actions spoke louder than words, his hands slowly caressing your sides.

"Beautiful..." A soft mumble came from him, eying you down with passion. His calloused hands brushing over the smoothness of your skin. This sight only for him. A view that nobody else was lucky enough to see. He reached out, his hand coming to rest on your hip, his fingers digging into you. Pulling you closer, his body pressed up against yours - you fit so snug against him. Leon bent down, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck as he steered you both to the bed. The covers hugging your body as you plopped down, his knee propped in-between both of your legs.

The pressure of your clothed clit against his knee elicited a moan out of you. Dripping onto the fabric of his jeans, creating a darker colour on them. The smudge of your essence spread quickly as his knee continued to slightly rub up and down. Whimpers could be heard from you whilst your body pleaded for more. More of him.

"Please..." A choked whisper came from you, pleading with him to give you more. To reward you more of his touch. Leon looked at you, already so needy for him. Such a pretty sight glancing down at his knee, your panties clinging onto your puffy pussy. His hand stroked your side as he peppered kisses on your neck. Leon's teeth nipping at your delicate flesh - making a deep mark on you.

"Patience love, I want to take my time with you." He mumbled into your neck, his voice vibrating against your skin - tickling you ever so slightly. How could he call you a tease when he was prolonging this for so long?

Your hips stuttered, trying to push yourself over the edge as you rode out his knee impatiently. Your slick made it easier for you to get the sensation you longed for. His wet kisses travelled down from your neck to your collarbone - sucking and nibbling to mark you as his. Pornographic moans drew out of your throat, nearly bringing Leon over the edge already. He couldn't get enough of you. It was like you were some succubus drawing him in with every sound that became trapped in the four walls that confided you both. Addictive.

Lifting himself off you slightly, he removed the straps off your body, slipping the material down slightly. Your tits bouncing slightly from the action. A twinge of embarrassment loomed over your face - your hands shying him away as you covered yourself up.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" His eyes flickered up to meet yours - seeing your face he knew damn well what you were thinking. "Don't cover yourself up, you're gorgeous..." His thumbs caressed both of your hands. Avoiding his gaze, which Leon didn't like, you stutter out a response.

"M'just nervous." Feeling self conscious within yourself, you expected Leon to get frustrated. Contradicting your thought process, he placed a tender kiss on your soft lips.

"It's okay to be nervous, do you wanna stop?" His fingers held your chin, pulling you to look at him. A slight shake of your head signaled you didn't want him to stop. His kiss made you feel warm. Safe. Hesitating slightly, you pulled your hands away - allowing him to see your upper chest fully.

"Thank you love," He fondled with your breasts, his fingers leisurely rubbing the nubs on them. "All this f'me... So fucking pretty." Without warning, his lips wrapped around one of your nipples. Swirling around the hard bud clingily. He practically drooled over your tits as he looked up - seeing your scrunched up face in pure bliss. The sensitivity of your nipples caused you to shiver slightly. A small smirk grew on his face as he continued his ministrations on your boobs. Appreciating them, kissing them, sucking them. He couldn't have enough.

The cold air hit your skin as he unlatched his lips, kissing down your stomach. He could cum just from doing this. His fingers hooked under the fabric, prying it off you until he took the top half off. He pinched your nipple whilst littering your body with his soft kisses. A gasp leaving your lips, your nipples hardening from the coldness. Leon moaned as he felt his hips buck subconsciously into the bed, he was so needy for you. His body dependent on yours - the heat radiating from your frame made his cock throb with an ache that needed to be sated.

But no. He needed to make you cum on his tongue. God. Leon has to taste your essence. A craving that he could attain now that he shifted you further up the mattress. Propping himself to dive into your slick cunt. Manicured nails feathered through the locks of his hair, a shudder leaving him as he glanced up at you one last time. Telepathically asking for your consent when he removed your soaked panties.

"Mhm..." The mumble was quiet, but he heard nonetheless. You knew he did as he licked the slit of your pussy, a growl like groan leaving him whilst he sunk his head back down the apex of your thighs.

Skillful movements of his tongue became unmistakable, flicking it up and down on your clit. Mixing it along with a few kisses and sucking motions - it brought tears to your eyes.

Your heart and mind craving more, juxtaposing your movements as you were out of control.

Trying to push him away - feeling your orgasm slowly build up. To no avail, Leon pressed his hands down, suppressing you to the quilt and him. Sandwiched in what was going to give you an enchanting release, your fingers bunched up his hair to pull on it. Giving you some sort of control in the situation. This granted you a moan from Leon, still persevering to make you cum.

The bridge of his nose rocking into your clit, multiple wet sounds coming out of his mouth. Your pussy gushing at his experience, Leon needed you to cum. Hearing your gasping moans whilst his mouth transferred itself to your clit made him double take if he even needed to fuck you to cum. Just pleasuring you was getting him off to a point where he thought he would cum in his boxers if you carried on spoiling him with the gratification of giving you oral.

"Leon, m'so close!" The whine fleeing out of your mouth did it for him. He lifted his mouth off you; meanwhile your head shot up no longer feeling his tongue anymore. Before you could protest, Leon spat on his fingers, coating them well in order to put them inside of you. Your walls tightened whilst he would piston them deep - curling them so good at your g-spot. Alongside with his mouth returning back to your bundle of nerves.

An otherworldly feeling rose within you as you sputtered out filthy moans. Leon's lips curled into a smile, feeling that you were about to cum on his fingers. Muffled since he was sandwiched between both of your thighs he spoke out, a sultry tone laced with it.

"Cum f'me baby, come on." Those words sent you over the edge. The crispiness of his voice echoed in your ears as you felt that impending orgasm finally release. Screaming his name, embedding chants of thanks, he rubbed soft circles on your clit. Slowing his movements to grant you a moment's peace allowing you to come down from your high. With his chin soaked, his fingers coated, he licked them clean whilst looking at your erotic blissed out expression.

"Such a good girl, a pretty one at that." He kissed your thigh, getting up from in between your legs. A deep kiss shared amongst the two of you, you were tasting yourself on his tongue. Leon's hands no longer clung on your skin as he removed his shirt.

You saw the scars that littered his body, a dark mark highlighted on his left shoulder. Some sort of bullet wound. To pry in this situation would be bad, it would just kill the mood. However, you could feel yourself getting hot once again when your eyes trailed over him again. Prominent abs shining through with his biceps putting you in an non existent chokehold. The light veins protruding through, showcasing his whole body. All that came from you was a breathy pant, you couldn't speak. Not when he was this handsome.

"You're staring sweetheart." He kissed your forehead, allowing you to snap out of your trance.

"Sorry..." A sheepish murmur left you. Still, you couldn't turn away as your eyes zoomed around his body once again. Fuck.

A chuckle brought you to look at his hands as they capably undid his belt. The leather shining snapping your attention to very clear bulge in his pants. Feeling proud of yourself for making him hard, you meet his gaze on you. His expression was unreadable... besides the fact his stare on you was longing. That's all you could read off him. Who was he? What did he do for a living?

All of those thoughts were lost as he took off his pants, his precum already seeped through his boxers making a distinguished mark. Without thinking, your hands replaced his. Pulling the boxers off him in a flash to see the flushed red tip. Leon let out a choked gasp, unaware of your movements. Your stare didn't help him regain his composure at all, a roseate colour burning on his cheeks.

"Don't look at it like that..." He moaned softly. It was pretty. Minor veins travelling up to the tip, showcasing off the large one that curved slightly. The base of him neatly trimmed - he was clean. Thank fuck.

It wasn't long before Leon positioned himself to your cunt. Practically drooling for him. His touch gentle as he rubbed your sides - easing you to be less nervous.

"You okay? We can stop if you want." He mellowly asked whilst brushing away a few stray hairs from your face. His fingers lingering on your cheek as he caressed it softly. Seeing you shake your head back at him with a sweet smile reminding him of your consent in the situation gave him a sense of comfort. You saw him as a person. Not a tool, not a man who killed abhorrent things. But a guy who could make you feel good.

Pushing into you was with ease. Your sloppy pussy taking him in so well that his hips sputtered slightly feeling you tighten around him. Leon couldn't resist slowly rocking his hips, craving more of this sensation you happily gave him.

"You can go faster, m'okay..." Reassurance was all Leon needed in this. Hearing your words and consent to fuck you good snapped something within him. His thighs slapping against yours slightly, creating a soft 'plap plap plap' made the scene more erotic then it was. This was pure filth.

His thrusts becoming deeper he threw his head back. You felt so good wrapped around his dick. Leon felt your nails scratch his sides, you tried to cling onto something as he pumped himself again and again. Needing to feel your skin on his lips, he pressed himself closer to you - his kisses gently fluttering on your neck. The tighter you squeezed the closer he was. Smothering your skin with marks that shown you were his. He made you his by forming his cock shape inside of you.

The base of his cock had a ring of cum forming around it. Displaying your last orgasm whilst he was soon to bring you to your next. His hips didn't stop the everlasting assault against yours, bucking into you helplessly. Leon hadn't felt this alive in ages. This horny mess he was encapsulated in brought him to his memories of when he was young. A young adult pumping with energy once again but this time he was older, more mature. Much more experienced. You were the lucky one to feel his experience. To feel him let go of himself in you.

He propped himself back up, the sheer sheet of sweat highlighting his abs in the dim light alongside the beads of sweat that covered his forehead. "Good fucking girl... take it." Dirty words left his lips and flowed into your ears. Words that make you shiver, blush and shake slightly in his grasp.

A growl escaped Leon when he felt your legs wrap around his hips. Fuck, did you want him to cum inside? His mind went crazy at the thought. Calloused hands gripped you tightly whilst he looked at you. So beautiful. You were gorgeous. The mewls that scratched your throat as you shot your eyes open when you felt like you could see stars. Only to meet Leon's gaze once again - just this time, you both were so close to the brink of release.

The way the scene held such love. A sugar baby and sugar daddy wouldn't have this with each other. Maybe this was different. Both of your foreheads clung to each other. Gasps leaving your mouth, groans leaving his. Passionate kisses being traded between you two as his thick cock stuffed your sobbing pussy full.

"Love, fuck, you have to unwrap... your legs." He managed to gasp out. Leon's dick was throbbing, aching for the sweet release he craved for. You were in a state of bliss, your body nearly becoming limp as you obeyed with his instruction. The bundle of nerves tingled. You were so close. So close to cumming around him. Leon could feel it. He could see it. Shakily, his thumb reached that precious, sensitive clit that longed to be rubbed. His ministrations on it brought the loudest of screams from you.

"Leon! I-I can't..." Your wails only made him dizzier. Dizzy from how fucking pretty you were for him.

"You can sweetheart, come on... cum on my cock. Be a, shit so tight... Be a good girl and cum f'me baby." Leon moaned out, he was about to fill you up if you weren't quick. Lucky enough, a bit more pressure on your clit caused you to shake uncontrollably. The same feeling as before washing over you - just a lot stronger. His eyes watched everything. How your body shook in his arms, the way your eyes rolled back as his name slipped from your tongue. Looking down, he could see your tits bounce whilst he carried on fucking you. Marks strewn all over you.

Leon's hips stuttered, he swiftly pulled out of you - cumming instantly on your pussy. The white, glossy substance coating your slit. Some spurts shot up and landed on your tummy. His head thrown back as he came down from his high, his endorphins going mental.

"Fuck..." He held himself up slightly, trying not to crush you with his body weight. A deep chuckle abandoning his throat as he saw you pant. Your fingers clutching onto his bicep whilst you tried to steady yourself.

Cute.

"You okay?" A deep voice knocked you out of your trance, looking at him dizzily. "Mm..." Your nods spoke louder than your mumble as you held onto him. His fingers latched onto a few tissues from the box on his bedside table. Wiping gently the mess he created on you. Mellow kisses on your stomach, tickling you a little.

He wanted something more. A relationship even. But a long term relationship would mean you would see the nightmares that taunted him. The crying, the hurt, the horror. He didn't want you to see that just yet. So this 'agreement', was enough for now. But everyone would know he was yours and you were his. He would make sure of it. Even if it meant marking you up or perhaps putting a placement ring on your finger before the real deal. Anything to make you happy, you were his happiness.

He guided you into the master bathroom again. Just for a different reason. Running the bath, it filled up rather quickly. Leon's hands wondering over your skin whilst massaging any parts he may have clutched onto a bit too tightly. Soft kisses on your face, lips and neck carried on. Not out of lust - it was love. His love for you met no limits.

The smile that would creep up his face when he heard you giggle made his heart flutter. That hole that was punctured so deep from his job was filled by your presence.

"Thank you..." Your voice was melodic. Bringing Leon to look at you with heart shaped eyes. A deeper kiss shared amongst the both of you whilst he got you both in the bath. The warm water soaking into your muscles, easing them up from the pleasure you both faced.

"Of course, anything for you." His words held such comfort that it could make you cry. Who knew a sugar daddy could bring you happiness in the romance department? Or maybe he was just separate from the others. You didn't care. All you cared about was him, and you wanted to know more about him. Trailing your eyes up to him, you see him remember something.

"Hm? What's up?" The inquiry you had made him chuckle. Confused, you prod him to give you an answer. His lips pressed against your forehead before he spoke.

"Is $2000 enough for tonight?"

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