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thyme-in-a-bubble · 6 months ago

Text

lotus

a/n: this has been sitting half-written on my pc for i don't even know how many months (tbh at least half a year. i was living somewhere else when i started it wow). finally took a deep breath and finished it (though with an ending that kinda flies by a bit because just wanted it to get done. i was scared that the story would never see the light of day, so zooming through the ending was a better option)

summary: a nervous breath then escaped his lungs before he uttered, “you do know what kind of massage this is, right?” to which you only blinked back at him all the same, none of your shock evaporation at his words, “you know that I’m here to give you more than just a regular massage?”

warnings: massage therapist!bucky barnes x reader, smut, sex worker!bucky, bucky doesn't have the metal arm in this one, thinking that your friend just signed you up for a normal massage but then it turns out to be an erotic one, kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, fingering, toys, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, anal, double penetration

word count: 4000

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With a hand tangled up in one of the ties of the robe you wore, you answered your front door after finally hearing the bells chime.

“Hi,” a soft smile swiftly warmed up the features of the man standing on the other side of the threshold, “are you miss Y/l/n?”

“Yeah, I am,” a tingle of nerves flickered through your body as your gaze washed over him, “you must be the masseuse.”

Why did he have to be so attractive? If it was this difficult to remember to breathe when he was standing completely out of your reach, then how were you going to survive a guy such as him touching you?

Following your gaze down to the folded-up table he carried, he nodded, “guilty,” before setting down the duffle bag he clutched in his other hand and extended it for you to grasp, “my name is Bucky.”

“Bucky,” you briefly shook it, “nice to meet you.”

“You too,” the touch faded, and he bent down to pick the supplies back up, “so, where should I set up?”

“Oh, in here, in the living room,” you gestured behind you and shifted to the side for him to enter. As he set up everything, you stayed at the perimeter and felt your heartbeat thump behind your ribcage, “is it weird that I’m a bit nervous?” you then quietly asked.

Briefly pausing his actions as he unfurled the massage table, he cast a glance your way.

“It’s not weird at all, it’s okay,” he stated in a calm tone, “but I assure you, this is a completely safe space, you’re in good hands.”

“I just–, this wasn’t exactly my idea, or even at all,” your hands fiddle further with the terrycloth tie around your waist as you began to ramble, “Nat, my friend, she told me that I needed to relax, so she booked this appointment for me as a treat. I don’t even know what it is she signed me up for, if it was just like a little five-minute long thing or what.”

“Oh no, she signed you up for the full package, 90 minutes.”

“Really?” your eyebrows rose, “wow, that’s amazing.”

Once the table was set up and he rummaged through the bag for a towel as well as other supplies, his low timbre filled the room once more.

“So, before we start, I’d just like to ask if there’s anything off limits to you, anything you don’t like or that you’re not interested in? Or perhaps something in particular you’d like today?”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” your eyes narrowed slightly as you thought, quickly scanning through your body to get a good sense, “you can just be as rough with me as you want.”

“Alright, you like it rough, good to know,” you felt yourself suck in a silent breath at the way the phrase fell from his lips, “you ready to begin?”

“Yep,” you swallowed, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered he seemed to make you.

He then lifted up the ivory sheets he’d sprawled out on the plush bench and held it up high, giving you a smidge of privacy as you dropped your robe to a nearby armchair, before laying down on the table and feeling the cotton drape over you.

As you layed there on your stomach with your face comfortably nestled in the little nook, you sensed Bucky adjust the fabric, folding it down so that your entire back was exposed.

A dull click found your ears as he pumped some oil into his palm. The very first touch conjured a brisk breath to fill your lungs as his hands slid along your spine, spreading the slickness around.

Though when you finally managed to force yourself to relax into his touch, a soft moan slipped from your lips as his meticulous grip found a muscle particularly sore.

“Sorry,” you timidly apologized for the sound.

But he simply zeroed in on the very spot that had made you groan and said, “don’t apologize, whatever bubbles up, please let it out.”

Your lips stayed half parted as his touch dug deeper, “it just feels really good right there...”

“Yeah, you seem to be holding a lot of tension in your back, especially right here between your shoulder blades.”

“Probably all the time on the couch,” you let out a pitiful chuckle, “I just kept on getting into uncomfortable positions and then stayed like that. Which, funnily enough, is pretty symbolic of how I ended up there in the first place, stuffing my face with Ben and Jerry’s and binging the most depressing of romcoms.”

“Bad breakup?” he guessed.

“I don’t think you can call it a break-up if you never really were together in the first place,” you let out a sigh. Yet again had you fallen for a guy who’d turned out to be a complete and utter asshole, “men are just pigs,” you spat out, “no offence.”

“Oh, none taken,” he uttered, “you know, it’s actually very common for people to get this particular treatment after something like that.”

“Really? Your touch is on the same level as bawling your eyes out to Joni Mitchell?” you jested, “well, now I’m really happy that I let my friend talk me into this.”

Soon, when his touch had kneaded every inch of your back, it faded away and reappeared lower on your frame as you then felt him fold the sheet up to expose your legs, letting the thin fabric only drape across and cover the curve of your bottom.

Once his touch had soothingly wandered up the length of your legs and as his broad palms dented your slightly parted thighs, you nearly didn’t notice through the trance-like state you’d drifted off to when his reach crept close enough to your core to feel the heat radiating off it. A gasp parted your lips as his fingers briefly ghosted against the very outside of your puff before retreating back down your thigh.

“Is it alright if remove this for a bit?” he then asked as you felt his hand clutch the sliver of modesty that remained.

“Oh, uhm,” you fought to comprehend his question through the haze you’d slipped into, both the haze of relaxation, though maybe more predominately the haze of sin, which was most likely what had swayed you to utter, “sure,” trying your best to stay calm as he removed the sheet completely.

It became a difficult task to keep your quiet noises at bay and have them not seep through your heavy breath as he then began to massage the soft peak of your butt.

You tried to remind yourself that it was the biggest muscle on the human body and thereby completely normal to be treated in this manner, but that truth would have been easier to swallow if it had been a less attractive specimen touching you in such a way.

Eventually, Bucky’s lavish rubs came to spread you apart with each repetitive motion, surely granting himself a perfect view of just how mortifyingly wet you’d become.

As he let his broad thumbs dig into your sitting points, you told yourself it was the slipperiness of the oil that caused his fingers to sweep closer to your core and not your own nectar that had leaked down towards his touch.

It felt so good that your hips unconsciously tilted up and into his touch, as his thumbs slid close enough to caress your outer lips, nearly capturing them in a gentle pinch.

You didn’t know how long it took, how long you essentially grinded into him as if you were in heat, but eventually, you snapped out of your fog and realized just where his fingers were.

“U-uh… w-what are you doing?” your frame jumped slightly at the realization.

“Do you not like this?” his touch paused, though didn’t retreat.

“Why–, uhm…” you nearly panted, “you’re just very close to somewhere else.”

And when he simply uttered, “yeah, I know,” in an almost amused and cocky tone. You swiftly propped yourself up onto your arms and glared back at him, successfully prompting him to rip his hands away.

Snatching the sheet back over your frame as you scrambled to a seat, you stared back at him in utter shock, “I’m sorry, but are you actually trying to sleep with me right now?”

His brows furrowed slightly as he blinked back at you, seemingly confused at your outburst, “I’m just doing my job.”

“I’ve had massages before, that was not–… that right there was something else. That was not you doing your job, that was your hands being persuaded by your dick.”

A nervous breath then escaped his lungs before he uttered, “you do know what kind of massage this is, right?” to which you only blinked back at him all the same, none of your shock evaporation at his words, “you know that I’m here to give you more than just a regular massage?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh boy, I’m sorry, I thought you knew…” his glance fell to the floor as he then began to enlighten, “well, the lotus wellness center, where I work, specializes in the blend of not just physical and mental health, but also sexual health and satisfaction. An erotic massage, like the one you were signed up for, is one of the many services we offer.”

Your eyes had grown as wide as saucers during his explanation, “o-oh…”

“I totally understand if you wanna stop, if you’re not interested.”

“I–…” you tried to make heads or tails of the situation you found yourself in, “so you were gonna–, what? Fuck me?”

“I was gonna try and make you feel good, help you relax and unwind. You were signed up for the aurelia treatment which would involve me using my hands to pleasure you, as well as whatever toys you might be interested in.”

“Toys?”

“Yes, I have a generous collection with me,” he briefly gestured back to the duffle bag resting on the couch.

“Okay, uhm…” one of your palms came down to brush over your features as you fought to comprehend it all.

“Do you want me to pack up and go?” you heard him ask.

Slowly, ever so slowly, before you even realized it was moving, you shook your head. Letting your gaze flutter back up to find his, you exhaled lowly, “fuck…”

“I can also just give you a completely traditional massage if that’s what you want.”

“…and if I wanna try the other thing?” you nearly whispered.

“Do you?”

“I–…” you tried to speak, though couldn’t find the words and ended up just hazily nodding back at him.

“Alright,” he gently mirrored the nod that still faintly rocked your head, “I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, I promise. You just say the word, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed, shivering slightly at the tingle of goosebumps that spread across your flesh.

The way he held your gaze a moment longer before shifting it to the massage table you still sat upon made you feel as if you might melt off it entirely.

“Lay back down,” he faintly nodded to the bench.

Your eyes stayed glued on him long after you now layed sprawled out on your back.

Letting his touch graze the sheet you still absentmindedly clutched to your chest, he asked, “do you wanna keep this on?”

“No,” you shook your head faintly, “you can remove it.”

“Okay,” he gently peeled the fabric off of you, “just say if you get cold, alright?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, still having a hard time wrapping your head around the fantasy you found yourself in.

He began by working at your arms, tenderly spreading some oil across them and massaging down the length of them, one at a time, till his skilful fingers descended to work at your palms. It nearly felt as if he was merely holding your hand before he tossed you into the deep end with how intimate the simple beginning sensed.

You couldn’t command your gaze to leave his visage as you traced his every move as if he was made of stardust.

When his warmth let go of your hand, he reached for the bottle of oil that didn’t have a pump and unscrewed the top. Your bottom lip got caught by your teeth as he then poured a bit out over your stomach, curving the s-waves of droplets all the way up and across your boobs, dripping over your pebbly nipples as they stared back at him.

As Bucky began to rub it in, he first stared softly down at your belly before swooping up, only to skip over your tits entirely and instead yanking a disappointed whimper from your lungs as he then commenced massaging your shoulders.

You felt a bit lightheaded as you blinked up at him, all tall and broad, looming above your head and digging his warm touch into the base of your neck.

Though when his rough palms finally did swoop down to caress your soft peaks, he quietly checked in, “this okay?” to which you simply nodded your head, eyebrows knitting together at the intenseness of the built-up anticipation.

Your entire chest cage heaved beneath his touch as he finally massaged your boobs, even occasionally fleeting away to ghost across your nipples, only to capture them in a pinch the next moment.

You felt as if you were floating down a calm stream, letting the river of sin take you somewhere new and wonderful.

Eventually, his broad palms swept up and down your form, though each time his reach dared to near your core, he barely touched you at all, missing entirely the spots that throbbed for attention, which of course only caused the sensation to deepen and render you even more desperate from his teasing.

When he then shifted to stand to the side of the patted table, his deep voice washed over you once more as his touch stayed warm against your skin.

“Everything okay so far?”

“Yeah…” you hummed as you lazily blinked up at him, and the soft smile that curved your lips caused a similar one to bloom upon his own.

His slow stride then carried him further down till his fingers began to dent the softness of your thighs.

After he’d made your eyes flutter at the way he worked at the muscles in your legs, focusing on one thigh at a time, slowing working his way up till his fingertips stretched to dizzily brush against your outermost petals, it was then, that his sweeps grew and blossomed till one fleeting tease to your centre morphed into more as he kept coming back, each fluttering time slowly transforming till the maddening pets had become everything you’d dreamed of.

Soft whimpers flowed out of your lungs as he gently folded each of your legs up by your sides and cracked you wide open for him.

As he gazed down at you with such intensity you’d never experienced before, it only took one step for him to change his angle and stand tall next to your hips.

Letting his palms run up your inner thighs, the edges of each of his broad thumbs then met and joined on either side of your pussy as he captured it in a light pinch, making you moan softly, “fuck….” as his touch rolled your clit through your glistening puff.

You nearly didn’t catch it because of how hard your own pants were, but Bucky’s own breaths had picked up as well and with a few stray curses seeping through his teeth as he continued to pluck at the strings of your pleasure.

But then, before you could truly lose yourself to the ecstasy you felt flicking in your periphery, his hands slipped away, a smirk fast on his lips as a whine escaped you and he returned his attention to the rest of your body. Though thankfully, his torture only carried on a short moment before he finally granted you the first of many treats.

“Oh, yeah,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rubbed your clit and carried you over the peak.

“Right there?” he leaned down closer to you as he kept up his pace, his free hand coming to rest right beside your head as he loomed over you.

“Yeah,” you breathlessly panted as your body trembled beneath his touch.

“Yeah?” he huskily echoed, nearly sharing your breath as he drew out your orgasm for as long as he could, and even as your body began to squirm at the sensitivity that swiftly set in, his touch never left you, only lightened to make it bearable and tickle you back from the high.

He studied your features fiercely as his fingers then came down to tease your entrance.

“How about this?” your leaky hole swallowed up the two digits he swiftly filled it with, “how’s that? Is that what you want?”

“Oh fuck!” your back briefly arched and lifted you off the table, closer to him for but a moment as sloppy sounds of your want echoed at the slow rhythm he played you at.

“Or do you need a little more maybe?” he sneaked another finger inside, “huh?” his frame then bent down till you could feel his hot breath fan across your face, “what do you want? You want something more to make you feel good right here?” his fingers slid back out of your pussy and fluttered up till they found your puffy pearl, “or here?” he briefly soared back down to plug up your cunt once more, but only offered you one messily rock before his digits slipped back out and drifted down much further than you expected, “or maybe even here?” you let out a gasp as the slick pads of his fingers glided over your little rosebud.

“I–, I–,” you struggled to answer him, feeling so foggy that you might just fall off the table, “fuck…”

“I have any toy you could dream of with me,” he purred as your grip found his shirt for support, “so, what do you want?”

“I want–, I want–”

“What?” he pushed as he continued to stare down into your eyes.

And as blinked back at him, only one wish came to mind, one that you timidly whispered, “y-you…”

But as fear began to prickle at your nerves, they all dissipated as the masseuse wasn’t offended at all, your words somehow conjuring a dazzled smile to appear upon his lip before he then chuckled warmly, “roll over for me.”

You nearly gave yourself whiplash from the hast you tried to fulfil his command.

As he soon kneeled down to be on level with where your head was now twisted and resting on its side, his hand drifted up for you to spot the dildo clutched in his grasp.

Handing it off to your flicking fingers, his touch briefly lingered on your cheek, stroking it softly as he said, “then pretend this is me, will you? Get it nice and sloppy for me.”

When you began to plant pecks across the silicon, your eyes shadowed him as far as they could as he straightened back up and walked back far enough to disappear from your sight, only for you to know where he’d gone to once you felt his mouth begin to devour you whole.

It became difficult to concentrate on the task he’d given you, so much so that he had to remind you each time his lavish tongue buried between your legs caused your own to forget itself.

Arching your ass further up towards his efforts, he tilted away from your drooling cunt and instead nipped up till he lapped against your other hole.

“Oh, that feels really good,” you moaned around the dildo as you tried to catch a glimpse of him, though only saw the edge of one of his hands and they dented your bottom.

“Yeah?” he let a dollop of spit drop to your rosebud before he nudged the pad of a thumb against it, “you like having this little hole played with?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, then watched as he momentarily dipped away to snatch up a butt plug from the zipped-open treasure trove his bag was.

Once the toy was snugly buried within your little ass, he snatched the dildo out of your mouth and a string of your drool chased the silicone as he brought it back to tap against the sloppy petals of your pussy.

It didn’t take very long after he’d begun to fuck you with the toy that you tumbled over the edge once more, making you that much more malleable when he yanked at your legs and manhandled you down to the bottom of the bench till your unsteady feet were once again on the floor and he had you bent over the table like a needy whore.

That was also when your weak pleas began to bubble out, begging for him to fill you up with something other than a toy.

Even though you couldn’t see his face, you swore you heard a tinge of astonishment in his tone when he asked you to clarify, making sure it really was him that had you begging and not just the way he made you feel.

Though once you finally managed to convey the sincerity of your words and convince him of the way he and not just the acts he was performing, drove you wild, it was in the middle of chasing your next high that he broke his pattern and traded out the dildo with his own hard cock.

A low moan seeped across your spine as he buried his length completely and let himself melt down against your back. Letting himself savour the sweetness of your warmth clenching around his fat girth, it took him a while before he finally began to move and soon found a steady pace that had your toes curling against the floorboards.

His fingers gently dug into the soreness still remaining all down your back as his hips repeatedly collided with the plush of your ass in desperate thrusts. Though as his digits worked their way down the length of your spine, they eventually found the little plug that still remained in your ass.

Teasingly twisting the toy, you thought that was everything he had planned, though all of those fantasies fluttered away when he suddenly yanked the small plug out and switched it with the bigger toy still firm in his grasp, your little hole only managing to wink up at him before he stuffed it full once more.

You lost track of the amount of times he made you cum as the remainder of the intense dance became a bit of a blur. At one point he had you flipped around and lying on your back, gasping up at him as he folded you in half and nearly broke the massage table beneath you from how hard his deep strokes were. At the next, the dildo he drove you mad with was traded out with his own fat cock and he conjured a vibrating wand to hold against your puffy clit as he watched your pussy leak from the bliss. But at the end, once you were nothing more than a puddle on the table, his load painted against your tits as he let his frame drape down atop of yours, a hazy question left your lips.

“Is that usually how that goes?” you asked as you both panted, plastered against one another.

Raising himself up only enough for his eye to catch your own, he uttered sincerely, “no…” and his gaze flickered down towards your lips, “no, it is not…” before he let himself give you the thing you hadn’t dared to request. The kiss was so sweet it nearly caused you to forget the sinful acts you’d just wrapped up.

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likesomeoneinlovee · 11 days ago

Text

𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫

Pairing: Jackson!Joel x F!reader

Word count: 4110

Summary: Joel’s knees don’t work like they used to. So, he much rather sit back, relax, and have your entire ass and pussy in his face.

Warnings: PORN-NO-PLOT. Assplay, old!Joel, light degradation, sixty-nine, oral F!receiving & M!receiving, old man Joel and his weak knees. Power-play? If you squint. He’s 61 but I’m gettin’ him to SIXTY-NINE! Lazy aftercare scene. One singular spank.

A/N: This is a repost! If you think you saw this before you probably have. I just couldn’t let something I spent 1 sleepless night on go to waste. Anyway, this song fucks harder than Joel.

Slut.

It was on the tip of his tongue as your fingertips traced around the waistband of his boxers. His soft stomach just barely aproning over the elastic.

Fourth time this week you had him in his room, half naked after dry swallowing one of those small, baby blue pills to get his dick up. First time doing it midday, sun shining in from his bedroom windows, curtains wide open. Shamelessly, he liked it– the thrill he got from the thin chance of someone seeing the real reason you’ve been walking with a limp, a certain shake in your knees all week.

“Quit teasin’, Sweets. He’s all ready.”

You weren’t blind, just patient. He should be glad your own hormones weren’t constantly leading your mind. Unlike his. Though, spotting the writhe beneath the fabric, that dark spot blooming against the grey cotton. You’d be mad if you didn’t feel the sight, like a punch straight to the ovaries.

‘May I?”

Joel almost laughed, you were never keen on formalities. It sounded unnatural.

A nod was all you were given, eyes meeting his which were currently kept guarded by the lenses of those red framed bifocals.

You leaned in, brushing soft, careful lips over the strain in his briefs, over the curve of seven-and-a-half inches compacted into a forced bow against the fabric. You knew what was to come once the fabric was down to his thighs, a sinful slap against the thick of his belly. Though, that being said; your index still trembled as she went in, curving around his waistband and–

THUMP.

Chest first into the tempur-pedic.

Your jaw slacked as you felt the wind knocked out of you, briefly. Like the time you fell off your bed back first when you were six. Though this time, instead of a cry it was a moan. Deep from your gut.

You weren’t as exhibitionistic as Mr. Miller, here. The thought of someone hearing– particularly someone you know. A face you have to see and god forbid greet every day, that’s what made your cheeks red. Your nose pressed down into his duvet, a heady smell of unwashed sex and every-day musk radiating through every stitch. Hoping to Christ the heavy comforter would be able to muffle the pornography shrilling out from your throat. Unlike Joel, shame weighed heavy on your conscience, especially when he was making you whimper just from broad hands with a firm touch, which was currently following the wave of your hip. Thumbs pressing into the gives between the bones, making you–

“Fffffffffffu–huccccckkk.”

In other words, your tummy hurt.

Your hips tilted out, his hands palmed your ass through your underwear– white, lace. It boggles his mind to even think where the fuck you found them. Tugging them down to the backs of your knees. It was all he needed.

Joel Miller knew he had you cryin’ every time he did this. Thrusts harmonizing with creaky hips that weren’t shy of sounding like they needed a fucking oil change. You’ve gotten used to it. Began counting them to see how many audible snaps of Miller’s pelvis will it take to cum this time?

“‘Gonna take care of you today, sweetpea.” He murmurs.

It was always more- how do you put it, mutual? If it wasn’t the headboard slamming, cervix kissing sex it’d be you on your knees, cheeks stuffed full’a cock after Joel’s been out all day. Thick cum riding the slippery slope down your throat. It wasn’t that Joel hadn’t ate you out before, made you into a proper meal. Though, there was a genuine excuse: this man’s sixty-one year old knees couldn't be put under stress.

And lucky for you, you liked the taste of spend and the smell of musk as your face buried into his pubes. You liked the sore jaw, shaky knees. You liked doing it in his study, looking up to find fogged lenses of his bifocals. Resting your head on his thigh with a bitten cheek before placing the final kiss to his belly.

It was fun. Made your pelvis boil and your head fog. As a real man’s cock should.

Broad hands now held around your thighs, one loosened, giving the back of your leg, the soft spot directly under your ass-cheek a lovely pat-pat-pat.

His tall finger delved forward to the back of your folds, right at your entrance where he can feel the leak that had sprung by his touch. You hummed, wriggling your hips back into the touch.

“Mm, m’ready, Joel.”

“Mm-mm” He shook his head. “Need’s some more o’me.”

Tsk-ing at your advance. You weren’t in the mood for his relentless teasing. Feeling, touching, carving heat into every inch. Though, even so it was hard not to enjoy. You breathed into the plushness of blankets, scooting yourself an inch- two inches further back. Your ass pressing against the palm of his hand.

“So wet here.” He rubbed that finger through your labia, that build up of slick and arousal coating age-spotted skin. You pouted.

“Need’ya wet–” He paused, trailing a slick digit between your cheeks, tapping it against that foreign spot, the tight, clenched ‘o’ of muscle. “-Here.”

You sucked in a breath, a sharp one. Fingers, on instinct, curling around the comforter. Not in your wildest fucking fantasies. –Well, yeah, but not the one you thought would come true– Miller’s finger pressed against a pure hole for the first time since you’ve started fucking. You almost forgot it was an option. You almost forgot old fuckers like Joel got off on that shit.

This shit.

“S’been a while.” Joel drawled, the pad of his finger tracing a circle around the live rim. Nerves finally picking up on the vulgarity. You whined.

He couldn’t believe you whined. A moan, a cry, a chant of his name from panting lips from deep within your heaving chest– but a whine. Like a puppy begging for a treat.

“You like that?”

He applied the smallest bit of pressure, just enough for your ass to draw a kiss to his fingertip. Joel grinned, mean.

“Barely fuckin’ touched you, babygirl.”

Your stomach sunk, cunt throbbed and swelled with no finger, nothing to relieve all that tension. All before his middle finger– the same one slicked and lubed with juice bubbling from your pussy into your lips, now pressed in, just enough to invade that virgin ring. Your back arched, you wanted to scream. Gnawing on the rolled foldover of the duvet.

Your legs twitched and your hips bared down. It was too tight, It didn’t even compare to your cunt, even before Joel- an unpopped cherry, freshly chewed fingernails and a dream. The dream of you making yourself cum on your own fingers. Spoiler alert: sitting there, pumping fingers two inches in, stopping because you’re too scared to go deeper isn’t the way to get off. Especially not with stress in your belly and the constant thought of “Holy fuck, I can’t wait for the real thing.” Looped and singing through your mind.

Now you had the real thing. In-and-out and successful every time. Joel did that.

And Joel was doing this too–

A more violent breed of butterflies fluttered in your tummy. Joel felt your hole pulse around nothing. Nothing more than a pressing fingertip in which he slowly pulled away. You whimpered.

“Dirty girl, huh?” He drew. “Should’a told me you liked this sooner. Would’a been glad to play with ‘er.”

Oh, fuck him.

The problem was he would’ve, you shouldn’t be surprised, honest. His body curved over your own, the bare, firmness of his chest pressed up against your back. Skin-on-skin, tummy slouched heavy to your lower back, rocking against your lumbar.

The sudden weight and comfort of your old man made your body relax, slightly, less tense. Though, those eyes were still wide, pupils shaky, jaw slacked against the bed. You hissed this time as you felt it again. This time, a dry, thick thumb.

An assumption that the slick dragged from your pussy to your ass would be enough, it was dumb. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Tsk.

“No, that won’t do, Pretty.” He tapped against the knot, “‘Less she’s plannin’ on easing up, ‘ere.”

“Joel.” You heaved.

“‘Less she wants my tongue.”

If a single finger wasn’t pure sin already, this was.

He started to slink his body down, broad palms massaging their way down from your ribs, to the inward curve of your waist, hips. Thighs. All the while his body traveled with, nose drawing a line down the divot of your spine. His thorny, greying beard prickled down sensitive skin.

Then, a weighty kiss was planted against your lower back. His pouty bottom lip reaching your tailbone all before his knees hit the ground.

Too. Fucking. Hard.

“MotherFUCKER–!”

Not only had the feeling shot into his lower back but once his shins joined the hardwood there was a painfully rhythmic snap, crackle and pop that came from his joints.

It was his body’s kind reminder, he was far from twenty-one.

“Jesus Christ, Joel.”

You had breathed, body still in tremors though for a split second you had been transported outside of your haze to check on your old man. Head straining over your shoulder only to see the top of his grey curls peaking over your ass– at least, from your point-of-view.

“Not a word, Kiddo.” He couldn’t help but grumble, turning quickly into a drawn groan as he strained to stand back up. One foot back flat onto the floor, then, slowly came the next. He fisted the mattress, stabilizing himself as he got back on stiff legs.

He was so fucked.

Your chest would swell against the covers, before releasing a breath. Still involuntarily twitching, shuddering every time you heard an uneven breath, a grunt as he stood. You felt your insides convulse.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” There was a subtle pause, chewing on your bottom lip before–

“old man.”

He blinked.

And in a sigh, he shifted close once again. One hand would raise as if to wave before landing a heavy hit to your ass.

“Fu– fuck!”

Once was enough.

“Jo–el–!”

Especially after hearing you squeal as you did. His name falling between the cracks of your wail.

“What’d I tell you.” He’d tut. Palming the reddening skin, tingling as it flushed. “Stings, don’t it?”

Instinctively, your back arched into it. The burn was fucking nice. The calloused palms of his hands almost apologetically soothing over the blushing area of flesh. You don’t cry, you moan, deep and hearty like you fucking mean it.

“Move. On the bed, Pumpkin. You’re drippin’.”

Dripping would be an understatement.

Though, obeying Joel’s words, you find yourself hiking a knee over the side of a bed. Then the other, elbows being your way of travel as you heeded on all fours. You were sickeningly willing. Always and forever, for your old man.

Once you made it to the middle of the queen you allowed your body to rest up on your shins. Keeping an as-picture-perfect-as-you-could posture. Curving your spine, sitting, perched like a cat, silently waiting for her treat.

Joel, meanwhile; tugged down his boxers, letting them rest around his thighs, heavy balls hanging over the hem. Cock standing against his tummy. A river of cloudy obscenity dribbling from his slit. His brows would pinch together with each step, lips pursing as he let himself drop into his bed. The comfortable cradle where his body lays every night– the slight imprint his body has left in the mattress from five years of settling in that same spot routinely. One-thousand, eight-hundred and twenty-six days.

His thighs would spread ever-so-slightly, almost to coax you. When he realized you were waiting for a vocal command, he allowed his head to fall against his pillow. Worn with musk- smelled dry. If, that made any sense.

“Still wanna taste you.” He stated.

There was a beat.

“Sure you’d just fuckin’ love to do the same f’me.”

He was right. In fact, he’s never been more correct in the full sixty-one years his presence has graced this putrid earth. And fuck him for that.

A grounding breeze gently pushed through the window that Joel had opened earlier- a slit. Barely that. The mattress would give against the palms of your hands as you crawled over to him. Almost out of instinct going to straddle over his thighs, but then, rectified yourself quickly.

Your hands would cup over his shins to get the right pose on him. You feel a familiar, warm palming against the back of your thighs. Feeling, examining. Pathing a calloused digit from the pit of your knee up to the fattiest part of your thighs. Right underneath your buttcheek.

“Don’t be shy.” He presses.

And you’d reiterate, once again. Fuck him.

He was lucky enough you chose to spend your days and nights adulterating with him. Wasting time that could easily be spent meaning something. Though, who could be bothered with productivity at times like these. Especially as with every orgasm the weight of the world seems to ease up as well.

A better mood, a better day. Though, more strenuous for Joel’s joints. Shame.

You arched back, hips up as you pushed the plush of your ass against his face, his facial hair ticklish against the pillowy skin. Your stomach fell. Your breasts squished against his lower belly, hands finding purchase on the meat of his thighs, breath coming out in slow, balancing puffs.

The tip of your nose pressed against the grey, wiry curls that laid a crown of thorns around his base. Nostrils flaring as you inhaled the heady– fuckin’ dizzying smell that came within.

Your parted lips would ghost over the thick vein that ran along the underside of his shaft. The tip of your tongue cautiously laid flat against his cock. Slowly, running up, tasting the salt of his skin. In return, Joel’s teeth nipped at your ass cheek. His own tongue began seeking the taste of you, slacking his jaw the slightest, sinking between your crack once delved past his lips, lapping a stripe from the pink-ish pucker his finger had prodded earlier, down to where you needed him the most.

One single lick.

One single lick and your hips involuntarily pushed back into the warmth of his mouth. The wetness of his tongue. It all felt so–

“GOOD–!”

A loud shrill of that pretty word was consequence of Joel’s tongue flicking against your overly sensitive, all around deprived folds, and a solid thumbing against your rim. You thought he’d be done with her by now.

One problem: his window. Still open a crack, though we all know a crack is enough. Well, how do we know? Maybe last week, you were walking down the road to get to Miller’s to drop off supplies he had asked for. The window cracked, noises that’d you’d think to only hear coming from a hormonal sixteen year old boy’s bedroom as he jerks off to an old Playboy.

“Sh–shut up, baby.” He’d murmur, vibrations of his softened voice tickling at your cunt. “Don’t wanna be the talk of the town, now do we?”

Good point. Great point. Because of course, you definitely would love for that to happen.

You wanted to sob.

One of his hands slithered down to your stomach, rubbing over the flesh as he pulled you back some.

“Now, why don’cha try stuffin’ those pretty cheeks so there ain’t a worry ‘bout no outburst.”

A weak ‘mhm’ hummed through the air as you pushed lower, instead of palms the sides of your forearms were keeping you up. The warm light of the afternoon casting a glow onto his head, you savored this sight, taking a moment to wet your lips once more before you’d strike.

The heaviness of his dick lugged forward against your lips, a kiss was pressed gently, all-too lovingly against his tip before you opened your mouth, flattened your tongue and glided him inside warm, comforting walls. It was just the head at first, suckling sweetly upon the flushed cap of his girth– tentative and teasing, though, his hips rutted up, forcing himself back another inch.

Your hand wrapped around the base, squeezing him with no real mercy behind the pressure. It was his fault for being this size, your fingers couldn’t even fully meet on the underside. And you’d say it a third time for good measure: fuck. Him.

Fourth, fuck him for being so big. And fifth, fuck him for tasting like a drink of heaven every time.

Miller’s mouth hadn’t fell short either, curling his tongue between the swell of your folds, still, impossibly soaked. Never-been-kissed sorta wetness.

Or, a kiss to a secretive place after you promised your parents no man will ever touch you before two ‘I do’s

Your hips rocked back against his face as he gave you the stimulation that made your knees kick, stomach tense. Walls clench, empty without the fleshy muscle of his tongue. You whined, you missed it. You were all achy for it– he knew that.

He was the one fuckin’ feeling that.

A searing kiss captured your cunt, upper lip soft against the tender bridge of skin between your pussy and your ass. The tip of his tongue flicked against your entrance just like it would your mouth, same way he’d turn a soft kiss into an invasion. His tongue delved as far as he could reach, two, just barely teetering three inches.

You’d moan again, it’d be louder if it weren’t for the fact his cock was stuffing against your left cheek. The tip of your own tongue traced around a bulging vein. For a breather– you were drowning, after all– you’d pull back with an obscene ‘pop!’. Breathe. Watch the long, sticky string of precum connect from his head to your swollen lips, admiring how it’d glisten in the sunlight like the prettiest of silk. Then, slowly bare your mouth back onto his needy, old dick.

There was a violent twitch against the hollow of your tongue, another moan into your hole. Your arms were shaking as you supported your weight, feeling his thighs twitch beneath your elbows. Though, it still didn’t seem like enough. Every grunt, breathless hum into the mound of swell he was eating like a five-star meal should tell you just how pleasurable it really was.

You wanted more.

So, you’d give him ‘more’.

You remembered what had stuck from your friends ramblings of what-they-don’t-teach-in-sex-Ed. Relax your throat, ease up. Breathe through your fucking nose most of all.

Joel had been too distracted to notice the feeling of his cock sheathing further into your mouth, stretching your lips into a wide gape. Up until he felt a spasm of your throat, a sickly squelch from the back of your throat before he felt the tightness. How your belly stopped rising and falling– for the time being, you couldn’t breathe.

“Motherfuck– Oh–!” He had to fall back, his nose still inhaling the sweet scent of slick as he let out that throaty, deep moan.

“Ssssssssss–lut” He hissed.

You swear you paused for a moment, movement haltering.

Slut?

Looks like it had finally found a way past his lips.

And fuck, was it delicious.

You hummed around the length, eyes squeezed as the watery build up that had been pricking your eye finally slipped down your cheekbone, past the flush of your face. Cruelly, your gentle touching fingertips tapped against his balls, they were full, undeniably warm. You traced a fingernail up the seam–

He was supposed to be the cruel one.

“Stop.”

A single command muffled into your pussy, burying his face further into you. It was killin’ him and it was sure as hell killing you.

“Focus.” His thumb moved between your slit, tapping firm against your clit before speaking yet again:

“Focus. Focus on my cock, Honey. He’s needin’ you.”

His voice almost sounded pained. He was right there. ‘Few more bobs of your head, almost wishing he could just reach and tug your hair, shove your head down til’ you got your throat filled, voice breaking once he’s done from his head kissing against your voice box.

He was horrible. That should be a well known fact by now.

It was all growing stronger now, the feelings– all that god-sent, mutual stimulation making thighs twitch and knees kick. Joel’s tongue swirled your opening, thumb rolling back and forth, up and down ‘stead of round and round over your erect clit. Back arched like a cat in heat.

Body returning to tremors. Neither of you could deny the inevitable.

You felt that now too familiar feeling in the low of your stomach. Every shift of his thumb against the bud making you spin, those butterflies bit now. Or, maybe they had tiny cowboy hats and lassos to tie your insides up into a tight knot.

Your tongue laid one last desperate lick flat along his inches, allllllllll the way up to his head where your lips settled for the last few sucks. Now, he was just rambling. All fingers. Mouth slick with juices, beard glistening with that clear, slightly bubbly substance:

“Gonna cum for daddy again? Fuckin’ greedy little girl, slobberin’, makin’ a mess’a me.”

Babbling.

“I feel it,” He began. “Feel you pulsin’. Body’s begging for it, baby. Let ‘er go.”

Toes bent, eyes squeezed as you felt that numbing beat throughout your cunt, legs, even arms going that ticklish kind of numb. Things went quiet for a moment.

Then, you released a profane wail against his cock. Eyes squeezing as you POPPED! Yourself off the length, watching it flop back, standing straight as your hips fell down onto his chest, the warmth of the muscle soothing your crying cunt as you road it out. The soft skin felt like a warm kiss to soothe that ache that made you sweat.

His hands gripped your waist, adjusting and sliding your body down to his thick middle, watching your hips grind from behind, lower back arch. Your heart painfully hammered against your ribs as you desperately tried to catch all the oxygen lost within the last twenty-five minutes, dwindling throughout the heavy air in the room.

“Thas’ it. Good girl.” He cooed. “Ride ‘er out.”

Sixth, fuck him for soft praise afterwards.

The hand attached to his person moved to his pulsating cock, gripping it firm right in the middle as he tilted it back, sliding his fist up and down the slick skin. Rubbing his thumb angrily through the split.

His tummy heaved beneath your recovering cunt. Still weak, still shaky. You swore your eyes had only been closed for a minute until you heard him–

“FUCK.”

Until you felt him.

Warmth painting your belly white, dripping down your navel, down to the sweet, pretty skin of your pussy. Your hand ran down to smear it, rubbing his spend into your skin like it was healing. Like it was something sacred. Fuck this, to you, it was.

You could always count on the patter of the shower to drown out any thoughts of regret. Not that you had many, anyway.

The warm water cascaded down your bodies. Relaxing aching muscles, comforting on your buzzing body. Joel’s hands softly but greedily palming your tits before slipping down to your stomach, feeling over the spot where his semen had laid just thirty-minutes ago.

“Could’a had you ride me.” He murmured. “Would’a looked prettier in you.”

He nipped against your earlobe, inhaling the scent of freshly shampooed hair.

It was more than foolish to think about children whatsoever in the state of this godforsaken earth. You weren’t even sure you were cut out to be a mother anyway– it wasn’t on your mind much. Unless Joel was behind you liked this, muttering sweet daydreams about it against the side of your neck.

“Oh, stop it.” You’d giggle, impishly.

God help him. Thinking with his dick ninety-nine percent of the time.

“Besides, don’t you think you’re a little too young for kids, Miller?”

You’d jab, in return he’d lay a much more gentle tap to your ass with his palm, a silent fuck you. His first, as of today.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve had enough of you today, y’know that?”

His touch was tooth-rottingly sweet. Kissing down your neck, nibbling down your shoulder. Each freckle worshipped individually. The thick of his gut was smooth against your back, he was so close. All it was– him, you,

and the memory of the foul pop of his legs as he kneeled. Fucking yikes, Miller.

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1-800-adore-me · 3 months ago

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Nonsexual Dominance with Caleb 🍎

Since Caleb has been around you ever since you could remember your childhood, his presence was always lingering around your person. He was like an anchor - strong, dependable, and who you knew would always hold you down if life began getting hectic. It was the norm for you to depend on him since he was your safe place. When you were younger, he was the perfect study buddy to have and now that you've moved into his home, he was now the perfect roommate. You didn't notice it at first since he was always around you as kids but once the two of you reunited and began living with each other again, you've started to notice how much his presence dominated your life.

Everywhere you two went out in public, he had his large hand on your back. - “Just a safety measure, pipsqueak. Wouldn’t want you to get lost in the crowd, hm? You’re just so small that I’m afraid you’ll fly away if I’m not around you,” He’d reassure. You don’t tell him that you could feel a stark contrast when he isn’t around and doesn’t have that warm hand of his behind your back - that familiar spot that he loved to rest his hand on felt cold and lonely without him. In reality, he loved the feeling of your walls being down when you felt safe with him. It made him feel needed, wanted, and dependable from you, his darling.

You noticed that he always seems to be making the decisions. Even if you make suggestions, his words always make you string along with whatever he says - like that one time when he was washing your hair with his shampoo and you said you liked it, in which he replied that he would buy one for you to take home. Another moment was when you asked Caleb if you should wear a black or white dress for one of his events - which he then chose black that day. Seeing you rely on him makes him happy. - “Just relax that overworked brain of yours and let me decide for you, okay? You can rely on me, princess.” After a hard day, it was especially comforting to have Caleb plan out the evening once you get back home from a mission. - "You look worn out, sweetie. Here, why don't you relax at the dinner table and I'll make your favorite, okay? Then after that, we can finish that movie you've been dying to finish and head to bed early so you can recharge more."

Regarding your wardrobe, half of it was from Caleb at this point. When he came home, he would have a shopping bag in his hand, along with that gentle smile on his face. - “Look at what I got today, honey. I was passing by a store and I just knew that you would look gorgeous in it. When have I ever been wrong about my fashion choices regarding you?” - He’d let out that familiar, warm chuckle as you ran towards him with an enthusiastic smile. You would give him a small fashion showcase, walking and strutting down the living room in your brand new clothing that he was generous to gift you. One of your favorite everyday tops was from Caleb, as well as your new jewelry that you would now always be seen with.

“Oh, this? Caleb gave me another jacket! Isn’t it gorgeous!?” You would squeal to your friends on FaceTime, showing off the beautifully crafted jacket that seemed to fit you just right. Due to your excitement, you wouldn’t notice Caleb peeking from your barely cracked open door, grinning to himself as he drank your reaction like a dehydrated man. His heart always felt full whenever you wore anything he bought as he knew that you were wearing him. His things that he bought for you. It was an arousing sight, seeing his claim all over you and you just take it with that adorable, naïve smile on your face - “No way, Caleb! Thank you so much! I’ll be sure to show this to my friends whenever I can!” By this point, your friends should already associate the majority of your wardrobe with him.

Another thing with Caleb was that he was insistent on making sure you had proper rest. He was always a worry-wort before you moved in, making sure to call you once he knew the clock was reaching your bedtime in order to make sure you were taking care of yourself. - “Mind explaining why you’re still up even though it’s 30 minutes past your bedtime, princess? …Oh, you were ‘just’ waiting for me? I can tell that you’re lying to me. You’re staying up because you wanted to watch a new episode from that show you’re binging, huh?” You would give a defeated sigh, wondering if Caleb had another evol that could read minds at this point. Once you moved in, it was common for him to set the bedtime for you. - “You should go to sleep now, pipsqueak. I can see eyebags developing under those pretty eyes of yours. I’ll put you to bed now, okay?” He would effortlessly carry you off the couch with those strong arms of his and lay you into your shared bed, tucking you in so neatly that your drowsy eyelids were already closing by the time he was done. He would soothe you to sleep with a small hum as he stroked your soft locks, making sure that you were deep asleep before heading to bed himself. If you were stubborn and still wanted to spend time with him even though you were fighting off the urge to sleep, he would laugh at your adorable attempt and shush you with another bad bedtime story. - “You always tell me that I tell bad stories. But who’s the one who always falls fast asleep when I tell one, pipsqueak?” No matter what, it would always end up the same. The last thing on your mind before you’d drift into a slumber would be his gentle, hushed voice.

#love and deepspace #caleb x you #caleb x mc #caleb x reader #love and deepspace caleb #lads caleb #l&ds caleb #lads x you #lads x mc #lads x y/n

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mattsmedusa · 2 months ago

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✎ 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 ✮ 𝐜.𝐬 『 +𝟏𝟖 』

ⓘ best friends? ᚐ sexual tension ᚐ blowjob ᚐ etc. + intended lowercase. 𝐰𝐜. 𝟐.𝟐𝐤

it had been an overall good day for you. you were out with a friend of yours, having gotten your nails done and now eating lunch with her. your friend started to talk about her recent little hook up. it wasn’t anything unusual, you were used to hearing your friends talk about stuff like that, but today... something in you was more curious than ever.

your friend went on and on about how good it was and how more guys should be like the one that she fucked at that party two days ago. she suddenly nudged your arm and leaned in to whisper in a hushed tone. "he was huge, like, quite literally choked me with it—it was definitely an experience." she laughed, immediately switching to a different topic but you couldn’t shake off the sudden flicker of curiosity.

blowjob. you had never done it before and all because you were intimidated by the idea of having a dick in your mouth. now though, the intimidation was gone, only leaving curiosity behind. the curiousity was persistent enough to keep lurking in the back of your mind, even as you stepped foot inside the triplets place later that day.

chris, your best friend, was sitting on his gaming chair—his back facing you—when you walked into his room. he was so concentrated on his game that he didn’t even notice you at first. you shrugged it off and immediately plopped on his bed, sprawled out like a starfish as you closed your eyes, relaxing on his bed like you owned it.

after a few minutes, chris stretched, taking off his headset and stood up to probably get something to drink and that’s when he noticed you. his eyes widened and he recoiled, putting a hand over his heart, not having expected to see you—or anyone in that matter—on his bed.

"kid- you fucking scared me, when did you even get here?" he shook his head, laughing despite his initial surprise. "laying on my bed like you own the shit, get up." he walked over to you with a silly grin, probably plotting something, but you sat up right as he approached the bed, making him jolt in surprise at your sudden movement.

"what’s wrong with you toda-" "how do you give someone a blowjob?" chris immediately paused, mouth still agape from the word he was about to say before you cut him off. he stared at you blankly and you stared back at him, determined. a part of you regretted your words, but you were too far gone into the curiosity to take it back. "what does it feel like?" you pressed on, leaning forward towards him.

"what did you say?" chris blinked at you, not sure if he heard it right or if he was just hearing shit. "did you just- did you seriously just ask me how to give someone head?" he burst out laughing, plopping on the bed beside you as he lost his shit—not believing what he was hearing.

"you didn’t just ask me that." he said in disbelief as his shoulders trembled with laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners. but when he saw that you weren’t laughing along, he realised that you were dead serious. his laughter subsided, surprise flickering in his expression since you never brought something like this up—never sounded interested when he did.

"wait for real? you really wanna know?" he gave you a teasing grin, his eyebrows rising. "well, it’s not like i’ve sucked dick before so i can’t really tell you how, but i have gotten a blowjob before..." he trailed off, his grin widening as he leaned closer. "you want me to teach you or something?" he joked, but the joke fell flat as you nodded your head.

his eyes widened by a fraction before he let out a small chuckle, leaning back on his hands. he didn’t expect you to actually say yes, and well, why would he refuse? it’s nothing serious—or so he thinks.

chris swallowed down the worries and what if’s and slowly nodded, muttering a bit too breathless "alright" as he adjusted his position on the bed, watching your wide-eyed expression with a small smirk. "you wanna learn or no?" he teased putting a small pillow that he had on his bed on the floor in between his spread legs.

you blinked, staring at him for a good minute, not expecting him to actually go through with it. after a few seconds, you slowly stood up and walked towards him until you were right in front of him before kneeling down on the pillow. looking up at him, you noticed the way his pupils seemed slightly more enlarged than usual.

"you’ve a hairband or something?" he leaned back slightly, casually, trying to hide the fact that your proximity got his breath hitching. "so your hair won’t get in the way." he explained, watching as you leaned to the side to rummage through your bag, pulling out a hairband and tying your hair in a low ponytail with it.

"alright now..." he cursed internally at how breathless he sounded. he spread his legs wider, almost unconsciously as he felt his dick swell at the imagery his mind created of you sucking his dick with those doe eyes looking up at him. he was already half-hard and you hadn’t even done anything yet. you were just sitting in front of him looking so edible...

what is he thinking?

chris cleared his throat, finding his voice hoarse and undeniably needy. "you gotta, uh, get me fully hard first." he said. "don’t worry, i’ll guide you through it- just do what feels right." he reassured. he was starting to finally understand the gravity of the situation, but as per usual, he pushed the thoughts away.

you tentatively touched his boner straining against his sweatpants and your breath hitched at the warmth and hardness. your gaze flickered up to watch his reaction as you palmed his dick, swallowing thickly when you felt him swell further under your attention.

chris helped you pull down his sweatpants, his cock springing free and slapping his stomach before standing upright, precum already gathering on the tip. he stared down at his dick, then back at you, a small chuckle escaping when he saw your heated glance at his cock.

"staring at it like you wanna eat it." he mumbled with another chuckle. "huh?" you snapped out of your small trance and looked up at him. "you’re staring at my dick like you wanna eat it." he repeated, giving you a knowing smirk—which earned him a slap on his thigh, causing him to giggle.

"so do i just... lick it?" you questioned, ignoring the comment he made, tentatively reaching out to wrap your fingers around his base and feeling how girthy he was. he was big and long, causing you to feel that primal need to be filled. you shifted slightly, trying to will your body to behave, but fuck, he was easily bigger than any of the guys you’ve slept with before.

chris nodded subtly. "yeah... lick it like you would with an ice cream cone." he gently guided your head closer to his cock, the tip almost pulsing as a fresh bead of precum formed on the slit before slowly sliding down his shaft and onto your fingers.

you leaned closer and slowly licked up the underside of his length, from the base to the tip, with your tongue flattened—all while looking up at him with those doe eyes of yours. chris’ dick jumped in your hand, his breath hitching at the sudden warmth and wetness of your tongue. the way you were looking up at him so prettily got him feeling all types of ways.

you saw his reaction and interpreted it as you doing a good job and started to slowly become bolder, moving your hand in a twisting motion up and down his shaft while you kissed and licked his tip.

"f-fuck--" chris moaned quietly, his eyes closing briefly at the pleasure shooting through his whole body as your mouth focused solely on the head of his cock. his hand left your head to clutch onto the sheets beside his thigh. his hips twitched and jolted when you wrapped your lips around his cockhead, swirling your tongue around it.

you knew some things about a blowjob. the knowledge came from hearing about it from your friends, porn and some freaky reels you got recommended while doom scrolling on instagram. it’s not like you were completely innocent—you just hadn’t tried it out on anyone. but you were nervous nonetheless, seeking approval from him as you kept gazing up at him.

chris’ eyes snapped open when you took him deeper in your mouth. "wait- fuck, you sure this is your first time?" he breathed out, completely in awe at how good you were doing. he barely held himself back from rolling his eyes back when you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked up his length, letting it go with a wet pop.

"y-yeah, is it bad?" you asked panting softly, feeling insecure about your inexperience. your hand halted its motion on his dick, waiting for his reply.

chris quickly shook his head, "no, fuck no, you’re so fucking good at it... that’s why i asked," he explained, his chest heaving with ragged breaths, dick twitching subtly in your hand. he licked his lips subconsciously, eyes silently pleading with yours to keep going.

you let out a quiet sigh of relief and went back to what you were doing. getting bolder the more chris reacted. every small moan, whine or groan made your stomach flip. your panties were now uncomfortably wet, clinging to your pussy as you eased one more inch of his length into your mouth, gagging slightly before pulling off to pump him with your hand.

chris was so close to the edge already, finding it difficult to stay coherent so he simply stuck to letting you do your own thing as he leaned back on both hands. his head was thrown back, brows knitted together in pleasure and lips parted as soft moans fell freely from it.

you watched as chris’ breathing grew increasingly shallow, his hips jerking upwards and thighs trembling ever so slightly. that’s when you understood that he was about to come undone. the sudden realisation left your stomach doing somersaults and you immediately redoubled your efforts.

"wait, fuck- i’m gonna cum... if you don’t want—mmfhh—if you don’t want me to cum in your mouth then pull off." he said urgently. his breath hitched more frequently now as the bands in his stomach grew more and more taut.

you didn’t pull away though—you went faster, bobbing your head more enthusiastically as your hand took care of what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. you hollowed out your cheeks, sucking insistently before slowly going down and taking as much as you could.

that’s when chris suddenly held your head still between his hands, his hips giving a sharp thrust up and burying himself completely in your mouth as he came, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as breathy moans and profanities left his mouth. you felt his cock twitch and spurt out warm cum right down your throat.

chris’ hips jerked against your face, slowly riding out his high. he didn’t release your head until you slapped his thigh repeatedly, coughing as you tried your best to swallow down his release. he quickly let go of your head, mumbling a breathless "sorry" before slumping back on his bed. his chest heaved and body shuddered with aftershocks.

it took him a good minute to recover and when he did, he sat up, pulling his sweats up and looking at you like you had grown a second head. you simply chuckled at his surprised expression, wiping your mouth with a tissue from the tissue box beside his bed.

"you’re fucking insane." chris suddenly said. he was in disbelief that his inexperienced best friend just gave him the best blowjob he has ever received... and mind you, he has had his fair share of heads so when he thinks it’s good—it’s really fucking good.

"was it good?" you gave him a small grin, knowing the answer but not wanting to sound too full of yourself. your words made chris stare at you like you just told him something ridiculous.

"was it good?" he repeated your question with a laugh. "c’mon, you’re really gonna ask me that after making me moan and cum in like 2 minutes?" he teased, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he helped you stand up from your kneeling position in front of him.

"so, anything else you want me to teach you? ’cause i’m more than willing to be your personal instructor if you’re gonna do that good." he grinned shamelessly, laughing softly when you shoved him to the side.

"kid, don’t even try anything with me." you rolled your eyes, even as a small smile formed on your lips. you didn’t respond to his question, changing the subject as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, but you knew something shifted between you two after that. every little touch felt more than just a touch.

it’s probably just your imagination... right?

୨୧

✩ ˙˖˚᮫ ⁱˢᵃ ᮭ ᮭ.ᐟ i apologise for taking so long, hope you enjoy this nonetheless anon<3

[𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞!]

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @chaossturns @mels4ngel @lypsiiii @sydneyylainn @sturniolozbae @hearts4werka @strnilolover @matts-sidepiece @hearts4sturniolo @ivysturnss @bumbl3b34 @sophand4n4 @sagesturns @gwennybenny @whore4mattsturniolo @sturns-mermaid @il0vey0um0st @summersturni @ashleysturn @unknvhx @natesfavoritehoe @lizzymacdonald06 @sleepiibunniiii @plrlvssnz @patchy-icey @greekgirldreaming @moosegirl96 @sllutty-sturniolo @rinnsgalaxy @urfavvbilliemunch @pasteldreams @heartsonlyforchris @jas06sposts @elizabeth8483 @starkeysturniolo @chrisissobabygirl @emely9274 @matts-wife @courta13 @p1nkm6tter @jocelyncsblog @bamsblooming @malsmind

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

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peachesofteal · 6 days ago

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Raspberry Girl Previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: daddy kink, overstimulation, forced orgasm.

“I don’t… I don’t know. This is stressing me out.”

The box in front of you is labeled ‘kitchen’ and you’re staring at it like there’s a bomb inside.

“Good job with your rule baby. What don’t you know?”

“This… the appliances, and the bowls, and everything… where do I put it? I don’t want to move your stuff and I don’t want to take up too much space I…” His hands cover yours, thumbs moving in methodical circles across your skin. You’re overwhelmed. You’ve been on the brink all day, dialed down after he took over packing up your apartment, now ramping back up as you try to unpack it and put it away. It’s been a lot, all day, and you’ve taken it on the chin. He’s proud of you.

“Would it help if I did it?” Your lower lip trembles, and you nod.

“Yes. Please.”

“Okay.” He kisses your forehead, wiping away one of the fat tears falling down your cheek. “It’s alright. Go upstairs, get in the bath, and relax. I’ll take care of everything that’s left.” You already did your clothes and personal items, things brought over from your bedroom and closets, but the rest of it is too much. You’ve deliberated everything, and he’s happy you’re making his house your home, but you’re getting tired, and anxious. “It’s okay, go on baby.” You sniffle, turning in his arms to rest your cheek on his chest with a sigh.

“Thank you daddy.”

“You did a good job today.” You shake your head.

“I didn’t finish.” You press closer to his side, leg hitched up across his thighs.

“But you told me when you were stressed and trusted me to take care of the rest. It’s okay if you need my help, you just have to tell me, which you did. I’m very proud of you.” He rubs your back, your hip, kneading as he goes, slowly moving down between your legs, feather light touch ghosting over your panties. He’s been doing it for twenty minutes, teasing you, working you up, and when he finally presses his thumb over your cloth covered clit and you gasp.

“Daddy…”

“Are you wet for me?” He turns you on your back, peeling your underwear down and off so he can spread your knees open. You’re fully exposed like this, little clit swollen and hard, pussy soaked and glistening, squirming as he studies you. “Oh baby. Look at you.” You throw your arm over your face, trying to hide in your elbow and he chuckles. “Why are you embarrassed?”

“You’re looking at my… at me.”

“At your what, sweetheart. Tell me what I’m looking at.” You drop your arm and stare at him with wide eyes. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yes daddy. P-please.” You shake a little, hesitant, nervous, and he rubs your leg encouragingly.

“You have to say where.” It’s a coaching game. He pushes you step by step, always there, always urging you forward, proud again and again when you rise to whatever challenge he’s posing.

“My… my pussy.”

“Good girl.” He presses down on your clit, sliding two fingers inside you at the same time, drinking in your gasps and moans. He’s thoroughly enjoying taking things slow, working you up to your first time, soaking up every single moment, every single orgasm along the way.

But tonight, he’s going to push some boundaries.

“Your little pussy is so greedy, baby girl. Should daddy make you come?” You lick your lips and nod quickly. “What do you say?”

Please daddy, make me unf- make me c-come, please,” you clench, naturally trying to squeeze him, your body instinctively knowing what to do. Already so close.

“What a good girl, asking so nicely.” He gives it to you, harder, faster, and your back arches, thighs locking around his arm, the sheets twisting in your grip. Your pussy tries to milk his fingers for something that’s not there, fluttering as you come for him.

“Oh- Oh my god,” you’re still riding his hand as it ebbs, but when you come down, he doesn’t stop, even as you try to run up the bed and close your legs.

“You’re going to have one more.” You shake your head frantically.

“N-no, it’s… ow- ah- it hurts,” He pins you by your hip, preventing your escape, and you shriek. “D-daddy, please-”

“I know it’s a lot, sweet girl I know. One more, you can do it.” One more orgasm, and one more finger. It’s an overload, and your foot kicks when he pulls back, just to push back inside you with three fingers, groaning at the sight of your tears. “Look at you,” he coos, pumping his cock, “daddy’s girl stretched around his fingers. Are you nice and full?” You groan, the overstimulation bringing tears to your eyes.

“It’s t-too much,” you cry, but even as you protest, your rhythm changes from tense to chase.

“You can take it,” he fucks you harder, flicking back and forth across your clit, and your knees fall open, wails turning to moans. “That’s it, good girl. Such a good girl, listening to her daddy.” He tugs his cock free, letting it settle at the top of your slit, ready to explode, and just before you’re falling over the edge, he pulls away to settle his length between your lips, rutting forward to grind his cock against you.

“Oh god-” You fuck yourself against him mindlessly, screaming into your orgasm, crying for your daddy as you rub your clit on the head of his cock, sliding up and down his length, soaking it. It’s enough friction to draw his balls up, more than enough heat to bring his own barreling down, and he shoots cum up your belly and his at the same time.

He covers your body with his immediately. Both of you sticky and sated, his lips dragging over the skin of your neck, your cheek, your mouth as he calms you down. “My precious girl,” you turn into his voice instinctively, searching for him with closed eyes, limp and exhausted. “Did so well.” You nod your agreement, grip still iron on his t shirt, fully out of it. You’ve already been in the bath once today, but he knows you won’t protest a second. “I’m gonna get you some water and then we’ll take a bath, how does that sound?” You pull him close, hands on his shoulders, and press your nose to his neck.

“Sounds good daddy.”

“I have a surprise for you.” You blink at him.

“For me?”

“Turn around.” The front door is half closed behind his back, and he can tell you want to peek around it or ask more questions, but you choose to listen. Good girl.

“I’m ready.” You announce, bouncing on your toes with a little squeak, and he laughs, pushing the door wide to let the floppy, giant, Great Pyrenees puppy inside.

“Okay, turn around.” Making you happy will never get old, and he knows these memories, the ones where your face lights up and your joy explodes, will stay with him for the rest of his life.

“Oh my god!” Your excitement floods out of you as a high pitched squeal, and you immediately go to your knees in front of the white fluff at his feet, the puppy’s big pink bow flopping on her neck. “Oh my god, oh my god. Is she… is she ours?”

“Yeah sweet girl, she’s ours. She’s for you, actually.” You scratch under her chin, cooing at the huge white puppy that could easily pass for a baby polar bear, even at five months.

“Does she have a name?”

“Duchess.” You clap your hands together.

“Duchess. Aren’t you just the cutest girl? Yeah,” the dog licks your face appreciatively, and you giggle, “you are. You’re the cutest.”

“She’s not cute.” She’s not supposed to be cute, anyway.

“Yes she is.” You give her another pat. He has a feeling you’re going to turn Duchess into a lap dog. A one hundred pound lap dog. He pulls you over to the couch, settles you in beside him as the dog paws at your feet and you giggle.

“She’s a Great Pyrenees. She’s not a pet so much as she’s a guardian dog.” You frown, pout already forming your lips. It was a tough decision. He almost bought a Mal, but the idea of you having to take care of a real life velociraptor when he’s not here didn’t sit well with him. “She’s going to grow up with you as her best friend, so she’s going to see you as her flock, which means she’s going to make guarding you her main job.” Not outright aggressive or high strung, but protective and territorial, and big enough to intimidate just about anyone once she’s full grown, a Pyr is perfect.

“But she’s still a pet.” He sighs.

“Yes. She’s still a pet. We’ll take care of her together when I’m home, but when I’m away, you’ll have to do it by yourself. Do you want that?”

“Definitely.” Good. It’s a dual solution. He needs to feel more at ease with you being home alone, and you need some gentle encouragement. Taking care of a puppy is a lot like taking care of a human. They need food, water, enrichment. Naps. Walks, exercise. When he’s gone, you’ll be the primary caretaker, for both Duchess and yourself, and he thinks, he hopes, having her will help you take care of yourself.

You also need food, water, enrichment. Naps. Walks. Exercise.

“And she can sleep in the bed with me while you’re away!”

“Well, we really need to teach her to sleep in her own bed…”

“Sure daddy.” You ruffle the top of her head. “We’re going to be best friends, aren’t we girl?” She paws at you and you smush her face, dotting a kiss right between her brows. He sighs.

That dog is definitely going to be sleeping on his side of the bed.

#peaches writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #raspberry girl fic

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dynaboomboom · 1 month ago

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fwb! katsuki visiting your dorm after class only to find you crying your ass out.

PURE FLUFF

you were having a really bad day and you really needed a distraction from all the shitty things that happened. so, of course, you texted katsuki in hopes that he would take your mind off of things.

your thoughts were interrupted as you heard a knock on the door, indicating that katsuki has arrived.

you never understood why he always knocks when you already gave him the keys to your dorm. the knock was followed by the sound of the locks turning. low and behold, katsuki stood by the door in his black tank top, biceps and chest already distracting you.

“hey” katsuki greeted but froze when he saw you. He thought that tonight would be just like any other hook up but when he saw your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks, he knew something was up.

“alright, lets get to it.” you said in a monotone voice as you held the hem of your shirt, ready to take it off in one sweep motion.

“stop” katsuki said calmly as he made his way closer to you. he grabbed your wrist as he analyzed your face.

“what’s up? who did this to you?” although you were used to his seriousness, his tone was serious in a different way. almost as if he was concerned about you.

this only made you even more emotional and tears started rolling down your face again. you weren’t able to get any words out of your mouth, only a few sniffs as you tried holding back.

today, you found out that you failed one of your major classes which causes you to be delayed for another year.

you also found out that your so called friends have actually been talking shit behind your back, spreading rumors that you only pass your other classes because you sleep with your professors.

on top of that, your received a call from your mom the moment you step foot into your dorm informing you that your dog has passed away.

you felt like it should be illegal to have these many bad things happen to you in one day.

at this point, you couldn’t help but full on cry in front of katsuki. you expected him to to be disgusted and cuss you off for crying in front of him for being so weak.

instead, katsuki gave you a hug as he rubbed your back. you could smell his cologne and feel his warmth which was unexpectedly comforting.

“hey, i have an idea.” he said calmly as he pulled away from the hug to look you in the eyes. his usually aggressive red gaze suddenly felt reassuring and gentle.

“how about, we order in some chicken wings and watch a movie.” he suggested with a soft smile.

“maybe tangled or white chicks?” he continued. you only gave him a nod, too exhausted to speak.

it surprised you how much he knows about you. although many of your “friends” know how much you love chicken wings. only a few know about your favorite comforting movies.

he set up the movie on the tv before grabbing some blankets in your room. when he came back to the couch, he handed you a glass of water.

“drink. you’ll get dehydrated from all the crying.”

once everything was all set up and the chicken arrived. katsuki sat beside you resting his arm on the back rest if the couch. he looked at you and raised his eyebrow in confusion.

“what?”

with his other hand, he gestured you to come closer. his expression basically speaking “you should know this already”

you scooched closer which only made katsuki sigh in frustration.

“come here you dumbbass” he said as he grabbed your waist, pulling you to lay on his chest.

“if you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just said so” you said as you tilted your head back to look at him.

“oh so now your talking.”

you let out a small laugh as you brought your attention back to the screen. as the movie continued, you felt the exhaustion get to you.

katsuki felt your body relax indicating that you’ve fallen asleep. he gave your forehead a quick kiss before tucking a few strands of stray hair behind your ear.

“god your special to me” he whispered, careful not to wake you up. you heard him. despite not using the word, you knew what he meant.

fwb who kiss each other on the forehead huh 🤨 anw, hope u guys like this one. btw, requests are open!! u guys can ask for other mha characters too 🤗

#bakugo imagine #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo katuski #mha bakugou #katsuki fluff #bakugou fluff #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo imagine #bakugou drabble #bakugou katuski x reader

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thedensworld · 3 months ago

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Stupid Drunken Call | C.Sc

Genre: fluff, office au!

Summary: After submitting your resignation letter, you drunkenly called your boss of seven years. After that, his behavior toward you changed unexpectedly.

You heard the elevator ding softly in the hallway—the unmistakable signal that your superior had arrived, as he did every morning at precisely this time. You stood from your desk, smoothing your blazer and preparing to greet him as usual. Moments later, he appeared: Choi Seungcheol, followed closely by Jeonghan, your colleague and his main secretary, who read the day’s schedule to him in a steady, practiced voice. Confidence radiated from both men as they walked, commanding the room's attention without trying.

When Seungcheol passed by your desk, you bowed politely, offering a respectful, “Good morning, Mr. Choi.”

He paused, surprising you by stopping in front of your desk rather than continuing down the corridor. “Morning,” he replied, his voice low but steady. After a brief pause, he glanced at you and asked, “Where’s Mingyu? Isn’t today his first day of training?”

You nodded, feeling a twinge of something bittersweet. Mingyu, a new recruit with undeniable talent, was here to train as your replacement. After seven years of routine mornings, assisting the superiors through countless meetings, projects, and unexpected crises, you were leaving. Resigning had been your choice, but the weight of this change hadn’t truly hit you until now, standing here in the familiar morning light of the office.

“Yes, Mr. Choi,” you replied with a slight smile, “He should be arriving shortly. I’ll bring him over as soon as he does.”

Seungcheol gave you a curt nod, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer, a glimmer of something unreadable in his eyes before he continued down the corridor.

“Mingyu… That guy should know to be on time,” Seungcheol muttered, a hint of irritation in his voice. “His training is two months, right?”

You nodded as Jeonghan stepped out of Seungcheol’s office behind him, finally able to relax. He let out a sigh. “I can’t believe you’re really leaving.”

You offered him a knowing smile. “Me either. But it’s been seven years.”

Seven years ago, you and Jeonghan had been recruited and trained together to assist Mr. Choi, Seungcheol’s father. When Mr. Choi passed away, the board quickly assigned Seungcheol to take his father’s place. Thankfully, he was gracious enough to retain both you and Jeonghan as part of his secretary team, easing the transition for everyone.

Jeonghan suddenly looked at you with a hint of panic in his eyes. “Did you book the restaurant I asked about? Mr. Choi has that lunch meeting with the client, remember?”

You gave him a thumbs-up. “All set. I even double-checked that they have vegan options on the menu.”

Jeonghan clutched his chest dramatically. “I have no idea how I’ll manage after you leave me with Mingyu!”

Just then, a tall, slightly disheveled guy with a backpack hurriedly appeared, out of breath and looking a little flustered. “Sorry I’m late!” Mingyu panted, giving you both a quick nod. “There was an accident—the bus I took lost a wheel!”

You and Jeonghan exchanged unimpressed glances, trying not to laugh at Mingyu’s unusual excuse. He was here to take over your position, but it was clear he had some big shoes to fill—and that he might need a few more lessons in time management.

After the lunch meeting, Jeonghan placed a takeout box on your desk, right as you were deeply focused on the manual you were putting together for Mingyu. You glanced up, intrigued by the unexpected treat.

“Mr. Choi finally declared his favorite secretary,” Jeonghan announced, leaning casually against your desk with a sly grin.

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Really?” you asked, your tone dripping with doubt. In all your years working for Seungcheol, he had never done anything like this.

Jeonghan nodded, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Is there something going on between the two of you that I don’t know about?” His tone was teasing, hinting at the kind of office romance you'd only read about in novels.

Rolling your eyes, you smirked. “You wish. Besides, you know he’s dating that model,” you replied, thinking of the stunning woman Seungcheol had brought to a recent social event.

Jeonghan shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe he’s softened up since you handed in your resignation. Maybe he’s finally realized what an incredible secretary he’s losing.”

You laughed, nudging his shoulder. “Shut up!”

Before Jeonghan could reply, your phone rang, interrupting the moment. On the third ring, you picked it up, recognizing Seungcheol’s deep voice on the other end, summoning you to his office. Through the glass wall of his office, you noticed him looking—no, glaring—your way. You weren’t entirely sure what he was thinking, but the intensity of his gaze made you stand up quickly, leaving no time for second-guessing.

“He called. Gotta go,” you said to Jeonghan, setting down the phone and straightening your blazer.

He gave you an exaggerated nod and moved back to his own desk across from yours. “Alright, Ms. Secretary,” he called after you with a wink, making it clear that the teasing was far from over.

You knocked on the office door before opening it and stepping inside. Seungcheol was there, his suit jacket draped over his chair, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The sight of him in this more casual state threw you off, even if only for a moment—you were never fond of this job, but professionalism kept you grounded.

You bowed politely, standing a respectful two meters from his desk, hands clasped in front of you. As he looked up from his paperwork, his gaze lingered on you, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. You felt oddly exposed under his scrutiny.

“Are you always this rigid, Ms. Ji?” he asked, a slight scoff in his voice.

You blinked, caught off guard. Had you been? “I’ve always been this way, sir,” you replied, keeping your tone professional. You prided yourself on maintaining boundaries; that’s why you were leaving—to stay true to your professionalism.

He nodded thoughtfully. “What do you think of Mingyu?”

Resting his chin on his clasped hands, he watched you intently as you spoke. “From what I’ve seen, he’s quick, sharp, and adaptable, which is promising. He’s also retained everything I’ve shown him so far, so I don’t think you need to worry.”

Seungcheol nodded, but you caught a hint of dissatisfaction in his expression. It seemed there was something he didn’t quite like about Mingyu, though he didn’t say so outright.

“He can be a little clumsy,” you admitted, recalling with a slight grimace how Mingyu had spilled Seungcheol’s coffee that morning. “But he’s working on it.”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow. “Yes, please guide him well. Are you sure two months will be enough?”

After this morning, you weren't so sure. But prolonging your stay here wasn’t an option you wanted to consider. “I’ll ensure he makes significant progress within two weeks, sir. If more time is needed, I’ll let you know.”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied, and you took this as your cue to leave. But you couldn’t help noting how strange this was. Oddity number two: he rarely called you into his office; normally, communication was handled over phone or email. That, combined with the unexpected lunch takeout, left you wondering if this was all coincidence—or if something had shifted in Seungcheol's usual demeanor.

“You can go, Y/n,” Jeonghan called out as he wrapped up his final check of the materials for tomorrow’s meeting, catching you by surprise.

“Who says?” You turned, eyes wide.

“The boss himself,” he replied with a smirk. “I know he’s been acting a little strange. Face it, Y/n—he’s trying to keep you here. I think he’s finally realized just how essential you are to this place,” Jeonghan added playfully.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you grabbed your things. “I’m flattered, but I’m taking this as my cue to go. It’s been so long since I finished work at this hour,” you said, smiling as you headed for the elevator.

Once outside, you flagged down a cab, sinking into the back seat as it pulled away. You couldn’t help but reflect on the day. Oddity number three: Seungcheol letting you go home early.

Staring out the window at the city lights, you resolved to stay focused. You’d given this company seven years—enough was enough. You were moving forward, and no amount of unexpected gestures could change your decision.

You sat uncomfortably in Seungcheol's car as he drove the two of you to a lunch meeting with Hong Group. Normally, you'd be the one arranging transportation, but today you hadn’t. In fact, you couldn't—because you didn’t know how to drive. You still remembered the brief flash of surprise in his eyes before he smoothly took the driver’s seat, saving you the trouble of calling a driver at the last minute.

“I’m sorry, sir, I should’ve arranged for a driver earlier,” you mumbled, embarrassed. For the first time in your career, you felt humiliated by something so trivial. Maybe you really should take driving lessons after this.

Seungcheol only chuckled behind the wheel. Ahead, a sea of cars sat at a standstill in traffic, making you curse yourself a little more for this uncomfortable situation.

“It’s alright,” he reassured, glancing over. “It’s been a while since I’ve driven myself, actually. Jeonghan usually handles it—and he’s a great driver.”

As he turned his attention back to the road, you recalled Jeonghan’s parting words before you left the office. “See? I told you—he’s trying to win your heart, Y/n,” Jeonghan had teased, though you’d brushed it off.

The silence stretched, until Seungcheol finally broke it. “Is it rude to ask why you don’t drive?” He sounded curious, as if this was unusual for someone in your position.

“Oh, it’s just... a bit of a silly reason,” you admitted. “I’m actually scared of driving.” You glanced down, hesitating. Even just sitting in the front seat made your heart race a little; the thought of being behind the wheel terrified you.

He seemed to take that in, and then, with surprising gentleness, asked, “But are you comfortable now? You seem a bit tense.”

You were caught off guard but exhaled, realizing he’d noticed your fidgeting hands and the way you avoided looking at the road ahead. “I’m fine, sir. I’m sorry if I seem distracted,” you said quickly, grateful when the restaurant finally came into view.

Inside, Seungcheol introduced you to Mr. Hong and his son, Joshua. As the three men began discussing business, you took notes on key points. Seungcheol was interested in investing in Joshua’s new automotive line, and you tried to focus, but following the conversation was difficult. Every so often, Mr. Hong or Joshua would turn to you for your opinion, and you felt your confidence waver. This wasn’t your area of expertise; Jeonghan was the one who shone in meetings like these. You started to regret agreeing to join the lunch.

“You didn’t seem to enjoy lunch earlier,” Seungcheol commented as the two of you headed back to the office, now seated in the back while the driver took over. You were relieved you’d managed to arrange a driver before the meal ended, sparing you from any more time on the front seat.

“Oh, no, sir. I enjoyed it very much,” you replied, forcing a polite smile. But even as you spoke, you had the strange feeling that he’d seen through you.

Seungcheol sighed softly, then spoke to the driver, instructing him to close the soundproof partition between the front and back seats. Your curiosity stirred—why would he need privacy? But the next thing he did startled you even more. He turned, looking at you with an expression you’d never seen on his face before: a mix of hesitation and vulnerability.

“Let me be honest,” he began, his voice low and sincere. “When you first submitted your resignation letter, I wasn’t bothered. I thought you simply wanted to develop your career in ways that maybe our company couldn’t provide.”

Your breath caught, heart thudding as you tried to anticipate where he was going with this.

“But when you called that night…” he continued, pausing as if weighing his next words. “I—I felt like a very bad person. I didn’t realize how my actions might have affected you, and for that, I want to apologize, Ms. Ji.”

His words struck you like a bolt, leaving you reeling. What was he talking about? What call?

“I’ve been thinking about it ever since,” he went on, his gaze never leaving yours. “And your idea… it seemed very tempting. So if the offer is still valid, I’d like to take you up on it.”

What on earth was he talking about?

You felt panic creeping in as you tried to process his words. You called him? You couldn’t remember ever calling Seungcheol outside of office hours, let alone making him an offer. And what kind of offer could you possibly make to someone who, practically speaking, owned your career for the next two months?

Heart pounding, you took a steadying breath, unsure of what to say. Yet the words slipped from your lips before you could stop them. “Of course, sir…” you heard yourself reply.

A small, almost relieved smile crept onto Seungcheol’s face as he turned his gaze to the window. He seemed content, as if a weight had lifted from him.

Was it about your resignation? Had you asked to delay your departure without remembering it? Jeonghan had hinted that Seungcheol might not want you to leave. Or was it something else entirely? Questions buzzed through your mind as the car pulled up to the company building.

“Talk to you later, Ms. Ji,” Seungcheol said, his face lighting up with the dopiest smile you’d ever seen on him as he exited the car.

Jeonghan, waiting by the entrance, raised an eyebrow, clearly as perplexed as you felt. Mingyu, the new hire, looked at you like he’d seen a ghost, noting the stunned expression on your face and your unusually pale complexion.

You did call him.

You really did, the night after you submitted your resignation letter—the night when you grabbed can after can of beer, drowning yourself in them like a madwoman, trying to forget everything.

You let out a heavy sigh, collapsing onto the bed. What happened that night when you called him? Why was he suddenly treating you so differently? And what exactly was the offer he mentioned this afternoon?

You felt the weight of the questions pressing down on you, swirling in your mind, but no answers came. Just more confusion.

Your phone rang, startling you. The caller ID displayed Choi Seungcheol, your very boss himself, calling you outside of working hours.

"Good evening, Mr. Choi. Is something wrong?" you answered, your voice betraying a hint of confusion.

You could hear him chuckling on the other end. "I can't call you?"

The casual tone caught you off guard. "Yes—I mean, no! I just thought… you never call at this hour, so I assumed you needed help with something."

"Actually, I do. I was looking over the presentation you sent me this morning, and I need you to get it ready by tomorrow morning."

Wait, he sent you home early, yet now he expected you to work overtime?

You couldn’t help but wonder: Is this the reason I wanted to leave this company?

"Please let me know which section you want me to edit," you said, trying to remain professional.

"No, actually… I’m in the office right now. Come in, and I’ll show you exactly what I need."

Great, you thought to yourself.

"Alright… I'll be there," you replied, hanging up.

Thirty minutes later, you arrived at the office. The lights in Seungcheol’s office were on, and you could feel a knot forming in your stomach. You knocked on the door, announcing your presence.

"I'm sorry to drag you back here," Seungcheol said as you entered. "I need this material first thing in the morning."

You walked over to his desk, studying the part of the presentation he wanted changed. As you did, he stood and stepped aside, letting you sit in his chair to examine the presentation on his computer—he hadn’t printed anything out.

"Jeonghan had to leave. Today’s his anniversary with his girlfriend," Seungcheol added, his tone almost apologetic.

You nodded in acknowledgment. "You know, I didn’t want to be the jerk boss who makes him stay late on his anniversary," Seungcheol said.

You tilted your head slightly, waiting for him to continue.

"I called you because, well… I’m already the jerk boss to you," he added, his voice lighter than before.

"Sorry?" Your hand froze over the mouse as you processed his words.

Seungcheol let out a soft, almost playful laugh. "You called me a jerk boss that night, Ms. Ji."

Your heart skipped a beat. His casual tone, combined with the unexpected mention of that night, made you feel a sudden heat rise to your cheeks.

You had a blind date that night—the first one in seven years, after working yourself to the bone for Seungcheol. But just as you were getting ready, Seungcheol sent you a voice note an hour before you were supposed to leave. He needed you to reschedule his entire agenda for next week because he was taking a vacation.

A vacation. Was it with the supermodel girlfriend he’d brought to the last social event?

With a heavy sigh, you dove into his agenda, making calls, negotiating with a dozen third parties. It took far longer than you expected. And by the time you finally finished, you received a text from your date.

"If you're too busy with your work, let’s cancel our date."

The words hit you harder than you expected. You remembered crying all week because of Seungcheol, how he had treated you so poorly, despite everything you had done for the company. That was it. You were done. You made up your mind—you were going to resign. You wrote up your resignation letter and handed it to him first thing in the morning.

The night after, you drowned yourself in cans of beer. And somewhere between the haze of alcohol and frustration, you remembered calling him.

“Jerk!”

You heard nothing on the other end.

“Jerk! Are you there?” you called again, louder this time, the anger boiling in your voice. Finally, he responded, his voice tight with confusion. “Ms. Ji, are you drunk?”

“Don’t ask me if I’m drunk! The reason I’m drunk right now is you!” you snapped.

“Ms. Ji? Where are you?” His voice softened, but you could hear the undercurrent of concern.

You chuckled bitterly. “Don’t act like you care. All you’ve done these years is take advantage of your quiet secretary. You’ve never treated me fairly, but I’ve been doing everything for you, bending over backward for the company. You're a jerk!"

And then the words you’d held in for so long spilled out in a rush. “And what? You’re going off on a vacation with your model girlfriend while I’m stuck here, working my ass off on your schedule? You’re a total jerk, Choi Seungcheol! You heard that?”

You gasped as the memory of that conversation came rushing back, like a freight train you couldn’t escape. Your hands shot up to cover your mouth, and your eyes widened. You did call him a jerk.

"I missed my blind date last week because of you, Choi Seungcheol! Do you know how lonely I've been, working for you? I bet you don’t, because you're off gallivanting with your supermodel girlfriend while I’m stuck with your endless schedule!"

"Ms. Ji, I don’t have a—" Seungcheol started, but you cut him off, your words coming faster than your brain could keep up.

"How are you going to take responsibility for that, huh, Mr. Choi? Do you even want to be my date? No? Well, then there’s no reason for me to stick around. I’m out of here! I’m leaving, you jerk! You big, dumb, heartless jerk boss!"

You leaned back in his chair like you were starring in your own drama series, dramatic pause and all. Of course, you tried to keep your distance, but Seungcheol was standing right next to you, practically breathing down your neck. The closest you could get to escaping was a meter away—one meter—as if that would be enough to save you from this mortifying moment. You could practically hear the earth laughing at you, but not helping you disappear.

"You remember now?" Seungcheol’s voice was amused, like he’d just stumbled upon a hidden gem. "I see, you forgot about it. No wonder you’ve been acting all... normal since then."

You should’ve been taking a dramatic exit, but instead, your brain was screaming for you to run to the nearest plane out of the country. You were so done.

"I’m sorry, Mr. Choi. It was... I mean, I... It’s just..." You froze, completely out of words. The awkward silence between you was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. You shoved your hands over your face, wishing you could just melt into the desk.

You quickly tried to apologize, your voice trembling slightly. "I—I'm really sorry, Mr. Choi. I didn’t mean to... to... say all that. It was just the alcohol talking, you know? I wasn’t thinking clearly."

Seungcheol paused for a moment, his expression shifting from teasing to something more thoughtful. He didn’t look angry. In fact, he seemed... grateful? “You know, I actually appreciate your honesty. I didn’t realize how badly I’ve been treating you.” His eyes softened as he continued, “I guess it took you saying all that for me to really get it.”

You blinked, not sure how to respond. Was this really happening? Did Seungcheol just thank you for calling him a jerk? You were still in shock, but it felt... different now. Not bad, just unexpected.

Seungcheol leaned forward, his voice suddenly turning serious. “You called me a jerk, but... about that offer to be your date—" He paused, glancing at you with a small, almost mischievous smile. "I meant it."

You immediately shook your head, trying to dismiss the idea. "Oh, no, no, no," you quickly interjected, waving your hands dismissively. "Please, forget that, Mr. Choi. Besides, you have a girlfriend. I’m not about to get mixed up in that drama."

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, unfazed. He didn’t back down. “I’m serious, Ms. Ji. I want to take you out. No work, no obligations, just you and me. You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

You looked at him incredulously, half-laughing to yourself. "Are you... are you really serious right now?"

Seungcheol nodded, his voice low and sincere. “Dead serious. I know I messed up, but I’d like a chance to make it right. To be something more than just your boss. So, what do you say?”

You immediately felt a strange flutter of something in your chest. The idea of dating Seungcheol seemed ridiculous—too complicated, too messy. You had spent so much time thinking about leaving, about cutting ties with this company. You had worked your ass off for him, and now he was here, offering something completely different. Something unexpected.

You quickly shook your head again, trying to keep your composure. "I—I'm not sure what you're trying to do here, but I don't think dating you is the solution to this... whatever this is."

Seungcheol’s expression softened. “I’m not trying to fix anything, Ms. Ji. I’m just trying to make sure you don’t leave with regrets... especially when it comes to me.” His gaze held yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “So, just think about it, alright? No pressure.”

The words hung in the air, and despite your best efforts to shake the idea off, a small voice inside you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like...

Seungcheol let out a small, knowing smile as you kept shaking your head, clearly trying to dismiss the idea. "You know," he began, his tone suddenly light, "I don't actually have a girlfriend."

You froze, your hand halfway through waving him off. "What?"

"I don’t have a supermodel girlfriend," he repeated, leaning back slightly, his arms crossing casually over his chest. "I mean, I might’ve brought someone to a social event, but that doesn’t mean she’s my girlfriend. You assumed a lot, didn’t you?"

"What's going on between you and him?" Jeonghan asked, raising an eyebrow as he stepped out of Seungcheol's office this morning.

You glanced at him, raising your own brows. "What do you mean?"

Jeonghan rolled his eyes with a knowing smirk. "I saw you two stepping out of his car with a driver."

You shrugged nonchalantly. "We met on our way."

Jeonghan hummed, unconvinced. "He always drives himself to work, but today he brings a driver? Suspicious," he said, walking back to his desk with a grin.

You tried to shake off Jeonghan’s teasing and focused on your work. You walked over to Mingyu’s desk, where he was already sorting through some papers. "These two haven’t fixed yet, so you need to make a call and finalize the date and time with the other party," you instructed. Mingyu immediately nodded, giving you a thumbs up.

As you turned back to your desk, your phone rang, and you quickly rushed to pick it up. Your eyes flickered to Seungcheol’s office, where he was standing by the door. You answered the call just as he made eye contact with you.

"Ms. Ji?" Seungcheol’s voice was calm but warm.

"Yes, Mr. Choi?" you replied.

"Do you have any plans for lunch?" he asked, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity.

You paused for a moment, taken aback by the unexpected question. "Uh, no, not yet," you answered, trying to keep your voice steady. "Why?"

"Great. Come to my office, then. I’d like to discuss something with you," he said, before hanging up.

You knocked softly on Seungcheol's office door before stepping inside. He was sitting at his desk, looking as composed as ever, but there was a warmth in his expression when he saw you.

"Ms. Ji," he greeted, his voice smooth. "Come in. Have a seat."

You hesitated for a moment, then took a seat across from him. The silence lingered briefly before he spoke again, his tone more casual than usual.

"I was thinking, since it’s almost lunch hour, why don’t we go out and grab something to eat?" he suggested, leaning back in his chair slightly. "I’ll let you pick the place. Anywhere you want."

You blinked, caught off guard by the offer. This was... unexpected. Was he being genuine? Or was this just another one of his attempts to be "nice" when it suited him? You tried not to overthink it, but you couldn’t help the feeling of unease creeping in.

"You... want me to pick the place?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that?"

He chuckled, the sound surprisingly warm. "Of course. I’m sure you know better than I do what’s good around here."

You thought for a moment. Choosing a lunch spot was something you usually did for Seungcheol, not with Seungcheol. Usually, lunch was a quick, impersonal affair—grab something from the café downstairs or eat at your desk. But today, the offer felt different. You couldn’t deny that a part of you was curious about what he was really up to.

"Alright, I’ll choose," you said, feeling a little bold. "But don’t say I didn’t warn you if it turns out to be something too casual for your taste."

Seungcheol raised his hands in mock surrender. "I’ll trust your judgment," he said with a grin. "Lead the way."

You nodded and stood up, your mind already racing through the possibilities of where to go.

"Thanks for the meal, Mr. Choi!" Mingyu cheered as he eagerly began inhaling his food, Jeonghan following suit with a satisfied hum. Seungcheol, however, sat at the head of the table with a polite but strained smile, poking at his food with none of Mingyu's enthusiasm.

You leaned closer, lowering your voice. "Is it to your liking, Mr. Choi?"

He sighed, briefly meeting your gaze before nodding curtly. "It’s fine," he replied, though his tone suggested otherwise.

It dawned on you too late that you might have misunderstood him earlier. When he said he wanted to have lunch, you assumed it was a casual team lunch with all the secretaries—Mingyu and Jeonghan included. So, you’d taken the liberty of booking a four-seat table at a decent restaurant and informing everyone.

You hadn’t noticed until now that Seungcheol’s face had been slightly sour since stepping out of his office.

"Is this one of those farewell lunches for Ms. Ji?" Mingyu asked innocently in the middle of the meal, completely oblivious to the tension brewing.

Everyone froze. Jeonghan shot Mingyu a sharp look, and you cringed, knowing full well your resignation was still a sensitive topic for Seungcheol. It had only been three weeks since your notice, and the new secretary-in-training was nowhere near your level of efficiency. No boss wanted to lose a competent staff member, especially not one they relied on as much as Seungcheol relied on you.

Seungcheol’s fork paused mid-air before he cleared his throat and shook his head. "If this were a farewell lunch, it would need to be much grander than this, don’t you think, Mr. Yoon?"

Jeonghan immediately nodded, catching on to the unspoken signal. "Absolutely, Mr. Choi. I’ll start planning one later. Ms. Ji has been with you for seven years—it’s only fitting to make it a big celebration."

Your eyes widened in surprise as you shook your head. "No, no. Really, there’s no need for that. It’s not exactly something to celebrate," you insisted, feeling a mix of awkwardness and guilt.

Seungcheol set down his fork and leaned back slightly, his gaze firmly on you. His lips curved into a small, enigmatic smile that sent a shiver down your spine. "Oh, don’t be like that, Ms. Ji. I’d like to treat you to something you’ll never forget."

You froze, feeling your face heat up at the deliberate weight of his words. Before you could process what he’d just said, you choked on your food, your eyes watering as you coughed violently. Jeonghan jumped into action, handing you a glass of water while Mingyu leaned forward in concern.

"Are you okay?" Mingyu asked, looking genuinely worried.

You nodded hastily, gulping down the water while avoiding Seungcheol’s gaze. Meanwhile, the man in question calmly resumed eating his meal, a subtle smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, as if he hadn’t just dropped that bombshell in front of his other staff.

Jeonghan and Mingyu exchanged curious glances, clearly aware that something unusual was going on. You, however, were too busy trying to regain your composure to notice. This lunch was not turning out the way you’d imagined.

"Ms. Ji... I'll drive you home," Seungcheol announced as he stepped out of his office, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

You glanced up, startled, and then looked around the empty office. Jeonghan and Mingyu had already left, leaving you alone to crosscheck everything before calling it a day. "I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr. Choi. I’ll just take the bus," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Seungcheol frowned, clearly displeased. "Why? The bus is going to be packed at this hour." He checked his watch, then shifted his gaze back to you. His expression softened, but his stance remained firm as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

"And besides," he continued, his lips curving into an easy smile, "I want that dinner date. Just the two of us."

Your breath hitched before you could stop it. "Mr. Choi... I..." You trailed off, your brain scrambling to process his words. A dinner date? With him? The thought sent your heart racing in ways you didn’t want to admit.

He shrugged, utterly unbothered by your flustered state. "I told you, Ms. Ji, I’d like to be your date. I want to get to know you better," he said, his tone so casual it was almost maddening.

Then, as if he had just decided on the matter, he clapped his hands together and straightened up. "Alright then, I’ll book a restaurant for dinner. We can watch the sunset beforehand." Without waiting for your response, he turned on his heel and disappeared into his office, leaving you standing there, utterly baffled.

Dinner? Sunset? With your soon-to-be ex-boss? Your mind raced. This was either going to be the most surreal experience of your life—or a disaster waiting to happen.

No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.

All the material for this morning’s meeting had disappeared from your computer, and to make matters worse, it seemed like your system had been attacked by a virus. Your computer was practically frozen and would need time to be repaired. Glancing at your watch, you realized there was only an hour left before the meeting started. Panic clawed at your chest as you made a beeline for Seungcheol’s office.

“I’m so sorry for disturbing you,” you blurted out, cutting into Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s morning conversation as you barged into the room, not bothering with pleasantries.

“What’s wrong, Ms. Ji?” Seungcheol asked, his brows furrowed in concern.

“My computer’s been attacked by a virus, and I can’t access the materials for the morning meeting. Is it okay if I use your computer, Mr. Choi?”

Without hesitation, Seungcheol stood from his chair, gesturing for you to take his place. “Go ahead.”

You quickly logged into his system and started searching, your fingers flying over the keyboard. But as you combed through his files, a sinking feeling settled in your stomach. “You can’t find it either?” Seungcheol’s voice broke the tense silence, sounding as baffled as you felt. “I’m sure I finalized the file and saved it. It should be here.”

“It’s gone,” you said grimly, turning to look at him. “Even the recycle bin is empty.”

“What about Mingyu? Does he have a backup?” Jeonghan asked as you all hurried out of Seungcheol’s office, heading to the workstation to regroup.

You shook your head in frustration. “I haven’t handed the final version over yet. Mingyu only manages the schedules and documents that need signing."

Jeonghan patted your shoulder sympathetically. “It’s okay, don’t panic. We’ll figure it out. We can finish this in 30 minutes if we work together.”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and sat at Jeonghan’s desk, taking over his computer. Opening the last version of the file, you began revising it at a frantic pace. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately,” you muttered, your fingers trembling slightly as you typed. “Maybe I’ve been too distracted.”

Jeonghan shook his head, offering a small smile. “You’ve been juggling so much; it’s bound to happen. Just focus—we’ve got this.”

The clock ticked closer to the meeting time, and the pressure mounted. Mingyu darted into the room, his face lined with worry. “The printer broke down,” he said apologetically. “She’s trying to fix it, but it’ll take at least five more minutes.”

Jeonghan let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Great. Just what we needed.”

In the meeting room, heads of departments and their assistants were already seated, shuffling in their chairs as they sipped coffee and waited. Mingyu quickly returned, distributing refreshments in an effort to keep them placated.

“Is everything settled?” Seungcheol asked as Jeonghan re-entered his office, his voice calm but tinged with impatience.

“I’m afraid we’ll need to delay the meeting. It’s taking longer than expected to fix everything,” Jeonghan admitted.

Seungcheol nodded thoughtfully, glancing at his watch. “Announce to everyone that the meeting will start in fifteen minutes. I’ll handle the delay personally.”

Jeonghan gave a quick nod, rushing out to relay the message, while you continued frantically typing at Jeonghan’s desk. Though the tension was palpable, you reminded yourself to stay calm. There wasn’t any room for error now.

“Focus, Ms. Ji,” you whispered to yourself, steeling your nerves as you worked against the clock.

“The meeting is delayed for 15 minutes, and you printed out the wrong document?” Mr. Park, the head of the marketing department, raised his voice, his tone cutting through the tense air as you handed out the material.

You froze, glancing down at the section he was pointing at. Your heart dropped when you realized he was right. The document you printed wasn’t their presentation—it was entirely unrelated. You were sure it was the correct file when you sent it to print, but now, staring at it, there was no denying the mistake.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll fix it imme—”

Before you could finish, Mr. Park threw the paper onto the table with a loud thud. “This is unacceptable! How do we expect to run a successful meeting with this level of incompetence? I knew something like this would happen when they decided to overburden the director’s secretary team instead of hiring specialized staff for each department.”

You flinched at his words, bowing your head in shame. Whispers broke out among the other heads of departments. Some seemed to agree with Mr. Park, nodding subtly, while others exchanged concerned looks.

The door opened, and Seungcheol stepped in, his commanding presence making everyone rise to their feet. His sharp eyes scanned the room, immediately locking onto you, standing there with your head lowered, tension radiating off your frame. Papers were scattered across the table, a clear sign of discord.

Seungcheol’s gaze flicked to Mingyu, who leaned in to whisper a quick explanation. As Seungcheol listened, his jaw tightened briefly before he nodded. Straightening his posture, he addressed the room with a calm but authoritative tone.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Ji, for your hard work,” he began, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “Someone from the marketing department, please accompany Ms. Ji to ensure the correct material is printed this time.”

His eyes shifted to Mr. Park, who immediately lowered his gaze, uncomfortable under Seungcheol’s direct attention. “It takes patience to get things right,” Seungcheol added, his tone firm but controlled, “and patience is something we all need to practice.”

You felt a rush of gratitude and embarrassment as Seungcheol diffused the situation, taking the spotlight off you. Nodding quickly, you turned to one of the marketing assistants, signaling them to follow you out of the room.

As you left, Seungcheol’s calm but commanding words lingered in the room, leaving no space for further criticism. Instead, the atmosphere shifted as everyone quietly reorganized themselves for the meeting ahead.

"You're not taking lunch," Seungcheol observed as he stepped out of his office, heading to grab a meal. He glanced around, noticing that both Mingyu and Jeonghan were nowhere to be seen—they must have left already, leaving you alone.

You shook your head, adjusting your posture in your seat. "I’m fine, Mr. Choi," you replied, your face carefully composed with professional restraint.

Seungcheol frowned slightly but took a few steps closer, leaning his frame casually against the edge of your desk. "Is it because of what happened this morning?" he asked, his tone softer now.

You hesitated before shrugging, unable to completely mask the frustration bubbling under your calm exterior. "I mean... I can’t just shake it off like nothing happened. And honestly, I’m sorry for messing up like that."

He crossed his arms and tilted his head, studying your face. "This is the first time, isn’t it?"

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I can’t believe it myself. Seven years without a major mistake, and then this happens," you muttered, more to yourself than him.

Seungcheol let out a quiet chuckle, the sound both warm and reassuring. "That’s an improvement, then. No one goes seven years without a single mistake—it just means you’re human."

You glanced up at him, your lips curving into a faint, tired smile. "And that’s exactly the point, Mr. Choi. I’ve set a standard for myself, and now I’ve blown it. Maybe Mr. Park was right—I might really be incompetent."

His expression hardened at your words, and he straightened slightly. "That’s not how I see it, Ms. Ji," he said firmly. "Whatever Mr. Park said has no bearing on your competence. I supervise you, and I know the quality of your work better than anyone here."

His confidence in you was disarming, and you found yourself relaxing just a little under his steady gaze. "Thank you, Mr. Choi. That means more than you realize," you admitted softly, your voice almost breaking with relief.

Seungcheol glanced at his watch and then back at you. "We’ve got thirty minutes left before the break ends," he said thoughtfully. His eyes softened, and a small smile tugged at his lips. "What do you say we grab some sandwiches together? My treat."

The offer caught you off guard. You blinked up at him, unsure whether to accept or refuse. "Are you sure?" you asked cautiously, not wanting to impose.

"Positive," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You’ve been beating yourself up all morning. A good sandwich and some fresh air might do you good. Come on."

With a reluctant but grateful nod, you stood up. For the first time since the chaotic meeting earlier, you felt a flicker of comfort creeping back into your day.

"I thought we were going to sit down and eat," you said, taking a bite of your sandwich while walking back to the company building.

Seungcheol’s suit had been left behind in his office, leaving him in a dark grey dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His tie was loosened slightly, giving him an unexpectedly casual air as he took a bite of his own sandwich. He shook his head at your comment, chewing quickly. "We don’t have time for that," he said, his voice muffled.

You giggled at the sight of him, noticing a crumb stuck on his cheek. "You’ve got something on your face," you said, pointing.

He immediately tried to wipe it off but missed.

"Here, let me," you offered, stepping closer. Without a second thought, you used a napkin to gently clean his cheek. Your fingers brushed his skin briefly, and Seungcheol froze mid-chew, his eyes locking on yours.

"All clean," you said, stepping back with a smile before taking another bite of your sandwich, oblivious to the faint blush creeping up his neck.

"I told you not to call me Mr. Choi when we’re outside," he teased, trying to mask his flustered expression.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "It’s weird to call you casually when I’ve been calling you Mr. Choi for the past seven years."

Seungcheol’s expression shifted slightly, a thoughtful look settling on his face. "Last night," he began, his voice softer now. "When you told me why you don’t drive anymore…"

Your steps faltered for a moment, but he stopped completely at the crosswalk as the pedestrian signal turned red.

"Did it happen here?" he asked gently, his eyes scanning the intersection.

You nodded, the food in your hand suddenly feeling much heavier. The memory, though buried, resurfaced vividly as if it had happened yesterday.

Seven years ago. You’d just started working with Seungcheol after his father had passed away, and the transition had been anything but smooth. Unlike his father, Seungcheol had seemed colder, more distant. His way of doing things clashed with what you were used to, and the tension in the secretary team had been palpable—especially for you.

That morning, your car had broken down, and you’d decided to walk to get Seungcheol’s favorite coffee. You were already flustered, trying to make a good impression despite your frustrations with him. Then, everything changed.

You had witnessed it—a car collision right before your eyes. The screeching tires, the bone-chilling sound of impact, the desperate cries of onlookers. And then, the blood. You still remembered how it splattered onto your blouse and face, how your legs had frozen in place, unable to move.

"Y/n? Where are you? We have a meeting in an hour, and Mr. Choi has been asking for his coffee," Jeonghan had called, his voice impatient through the phone.

You’d managed to drag yourself to the office after buying a new blouse, your hands trembling the entire time. Yet, instead of compassion, you’d been met with Seungcheol’s sharp reprimand for forgetting his coffee. The sting of that moment had stayed with you for years.

And now, you couldn’t believe you had shared it all with him last night, over casual conversation, when he’d asked why you no longer drove.

The pedestrian signal turned green, snapping you out of your thoughts. But before you could move, a hand gently gripped yours.

Seungcheol’s warm fingers curled around yours, grounding you in the present. He led you across the road, his pace steady, his grip firm yet comforting.

You glanced at him, surprised by the gesture. His gaze remained forward, focused on the path ahead. Yet, the warmth of his hand in yours spoke volumes, a quiet reassurance that lingered even after you’d crossed the street.

The complaints began to pour in like an unrelenting tide. Every time you opened your inbox, you found more emails from department heads, their tone varying from formal discontent to outright disdain. Words like incompetence, unprofessional, and unacceptable were repeated so often they seemed to blur together, creating a cloud of frustration and doubt in your mind.

What made it worse were the thinly veiled accusations of favoritism. Several emails implied that Seungcheol’s supposed bias toward you was undermining the secretary team’s performance and credibility. The insinuation was like a dagger, cutting into the team’s morale and creating an atmosphere heavy with unease.

It wasn’t long before you noticed the shift among your colleagues. Mingyu, usually cheerful and talkative, had grown quieter. His usual playful remarks were absent during lunch breaks, replaced by an awkward silence. Even Jeonghan, who always maintained an easygoing demeanor, seemed troubled, though he tried to hide it behind his usual smirks and teasing words.

“Ignore those emails,” Jeonghan said one afternoon, leaning against your desk. He spoke casually, but his eyes held a seriousness that betrayed his concern. “It’s the marketing department stirring up trouble again. They’ve been trying to undermine the secretary team for years.”

You glanced at him, startled. “Why would they do that? What do they have to gain?”

Jeonghan shrugged, his lips curling into a bitter smile. “Power dynamics, politics, control—you name it. Ever since Mr. Choi took over, the marketing department hasn’t been happy. They thrived under his father’s management because they were given more autonomy, but Mr. Choi’s stricter policies clipped their wings. They’ve been retaliating ever since.”

“And we’re caught in the middle,” you murmured, feeling the weight of the situation settle over you.

Jeonghan nodded. “Exactly. They’re using the secretary team as a scapegoat to make Mr. Choi look bad. And now that they’ve noticed how close you and him seem lately, they’re exploiting it to fuel their narrative.”

Your stomach churned at his words. The accusations weren’t just baseless; they were carefully orchestrated attacks designed to destabilize the entire team.

“But what can we do?” you asked, your voice tinged with helplessness. “If this continues, it’ll ruin our reputation—and Mr. Choi’s.”

Jeonghan leaned closer, lowering his voice. “We fight back, but carefully. First, we need to fix the immediate issues—no more mistakes, no more complaints. Then, we gather evidence. If we can prove the marketing department is behind this sabotage, we’ll turn the tables on them.”

Seungcheol walked you to your door after he drove you home, his steps calm but purposeful. "You don’t have to worry about all the complaints," he said, his voice smooth, but there was a knowing look in his eyes as he bid you goodbye.

"You saw them too?" you asked, your voice a little strained from the weight of it all. He nodded with a small grin. "Receiving complaints is part of my job, you know," he teased, throwing you a wink as if he were trying to make light of the situation.

"So you know they’re all from Mr. Park’s people?" you asked, unable to hide the slight bitterness in your voice.

He smiled, that reassuring smile of his. "I told you, you don’t have to worry about that," he said, his tone confident, almost as if he already had everything under control.

You lowered your head, feeling the weight of it all. You were involved now, and the rumors were only growing. Whispers of your relationship with him were circulating the office, and worse, someone had posted pictures of the two of you on the company community page. It felt impossible to escape.

Seungcheol seemed to sense your unease. "Hey," he said, his voice gentle, "it’s just a month left before you leave. A little plot twist will make it great, right?" His words were meant to lighten the mood, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought.

He reached for your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "We’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry."

You hesitated for a moment, then asked, "You want to come inside?" You bit your lip, unsure of how he’d respond. Would he take the offer seriously, or was it too much, too soon?

After a brief pause, he sent a quick message to his driver. Moments later, he was already seated on your couch, his suit jacket and tie discarded, his sleeves rolled up casually.

"I expect this kind of vibe," Seungcheol remarked as his eyes wandered around your apartment, taking in the cozy space. His gaze lingered on everything, from the soft lighting to the quiet hum of your personal sanctuary.

"Two rooms?" he asked, a curious glint in his eyes. You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"Sometimes my brother visits. He lives in a dorm, but he stays here on his days off," you explained, your voice casual, but you felt a little self-conscious explaining it. You weren't sure why, but it felt like you were giving him a piece of your personal life you hadn’t shared with anyone before.

"He's still training for the national team?" Seungcheol asked, and you looked at him, surprised that he remembered.

"You remembered?" you asked, your voice soft with disbelief.

Seungcheol nodded, his smile warm. "Of course, it’s you."

It was a casual evening after work, everyone gathered in the break room. Jeonghan and Seungcheol had just returned from a trip, and he couldn’t wait to share some exciting news.

"My sister just got accepted into one of the top companies!" Jeonghan had announced, beaming with pride. "We’re celebrating this weekend!"

The team cheered, raising their glasses in a toast. It was a happy moment, and you couldn’t help but feel a little nostalgic for the simplicity of those times.

Seungcheol had joined in, his voice nonchalant but with a hint of pride. "My brother decided to go into the culinary field instead of business," he had mentioned. "Can you believe it? A chef, not a businessman."

You’d overheard it all, and for some reason, it had stayed with you—how casually everyone shared their family stories, how different yet similar your lives were.

Seungcheol’s voice broke through your thoughts. "Do you have siblings, Ms. Ji?" he asked, his tone playful, though there was a touch of curiosity beneath the words.

"She has a brother," Jeonghan had added once, with a wink. "Do you know Ji Chang Wook, the former football player? That’s her brother."

Seungcheol raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised. "Really?" he asked, looking at you with a mix of disbelief and admiration.

You nodded shyly. "He now works for the national team as their coach."

Seungcheol’s eyes softened, impressed. "That’s incredible," he said. "You’re surrounded by greatness."

You smiled at his words, feeling a swell of pride for your brother. As the conversation shifted back to the present, you placed a glass of iced tea on the coffee table for Seungcheol before settling back onto the couch next to him.

"How am i as a boyfriend?" Seungcheol suddenly asked, his question coming out of nowhere. You let out a soft chuckle at his unexpected inquiry. His gaze was playful, yet there was something deeper beneath it, as if he was genuinely waiting for your answer.

You paused, thinking about how to answer. "I don’t know that you’d be willing to go down with a mere secretary staff like me, Mr. Choi," you teased, trying to mask the flutter of uncertainty in your chest.

Seungcheol rolled his eyes at the "Mr. Choi." He had been correcting you ever since the beginning, insisting you call him Seungcheol.

"Can I ask you a question?" you asked, your voice tentative. He nodded, leaning in slightly, his expression serious.

"Why were you being an asshole at the beginning?" you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them. It wasn’t the most delicate way to phrase it, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Seungcheol closed his eyes, clearly not thrilled about being reminded of his past behavior. "I was a lowly bastard, wasn’t I?" he admitted, his voice quiet, almost regretful. "I’m sorry... I was just very insecure."

"Insecure?" you repeated, surprised by his honesty.

He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips as he reached out to brush a stray hair from your face. "My father passed away, and my brother didn’t want to take over the business. I didn’t have enough experience to rule a company. I was just trying to figure things out."

You blinked, caught off guard. "I had no idea about that."

Seungcheol nodded again, his gaze softening. "I made sure no one knew about it. But I broke down at one point, and Jeonghan helped me a lot. You did, too. You always did your best at work. But I just..." He trailed off, his fingers grazing your skin as he continued, "I didn’t want to get distracted by you. Maybe that’s why I treated you so badly."

You furrowed your brow in confusion. "Distracted? By me? How come?" You chuckled, still processing the idea. Was it really possible?

Seungcheol’s smile deepened, and his gaze softened. "I used to like you a lot. My father always spoke highly of you, and I couldn’t help but admire you."

"No way," you whispered, your eyes widening in disbelief.

"I’m serious," he said, his voice steady and sincere. "You were always shining at that desk of yours."

You laughed, the sound a mix of disbelief and warmth. "Since when?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

"Since you visited my house," he said, his tone turning nostalgic. "I saw how you treated my father—so professional, yet so graceful. I tried to find a secretary like you, but I guess there’s only one of you."

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked at him, the realization settling in. Despite all the tension and confusion, there was something undeniably genuine about his words, and for the first time in a while, it felt like things between you and Seungcheol might finally be falling into place.

Seungcheol leaned in closer, his eyes fixed on your lips, the moment growing more intimate with every passing second. Just as you felt your breath hitch, the sound of someone punching in the passcode to your door broke the tension, startling both of you.

“Y/n! I brought some—” The baritone voice trailed off abruptly as the door swung open, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man carrying two plastic bags. His steps halted, and his eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. His sister, tangled up with a stranger on the couch, looking far too close for comfort.

You and Seungcheol scrambled apart, both of you stumbling to your feet as if caught red-handed.

“Did I interrupt something?” the man asked, his tone sharp and accusatory. His gaze darted between you and Seungcheol before settling on you. “Who’s this, Y/n?”

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you tried to compose yourself. “Uh... this is Choi Seungcheol, my... my boss,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seungcheol extended a hand, his expression polite and composed despite the awkwardness of the situation. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m—”

“Your boss?” the man interrupted, completely ignoring the handshake. His eyes narrowed as he turned his attention back to you. “He’s the one who made you work overtime and miss my birthday?”

You froze. Shoot. You had vented about Seungcheol to your brother countless times, never expecting him to meet the man himself.

“Oppa, it’s not like that,” you tried to explain, but your brother wasn’t having it.

“You talked ill of him to me all the time,” Changwook said, his tone laced with disbelief and a hint of anger. His grip on your arm tightened slightly as he pulled you further away from Seungcheol. “Why is he here now? In your apartment?”

Your mind raced, searching for an explanation that wouldn’t make things worse. “We’re... umm...” You waved your hands in the air helplessly, your words failing you.

Seungcheol, however, didn’t hesitate. “I’m her boyfriend,” he said firmly, his voice steady and confident as he stepped forward.

Your eyes widened in shock at his bold declaration. “That’s—” you started, but the words died in your throat as your brother’s gaze hardened, his protective instincts kicking in.

“Boyfriend?” Changwook echoed, his voice filled with skepticism as he gave Seungcheol a once-over. “Since when? And why am I just now hearing about this?”

You cringed inwardly, feeling trapped between Seungcheol’s unexpected claim and your brother’s scrutiny. The fact that you’d spent months complaining about Seungcheol didn’t help. How did I end up here?

“Changwook, calm down,” you said, trying to diffuse the situation. “It’s... new.”

“New?” your brother repeated, his frown deepening as his eyes bored into you. “How new? And why would you date your boss of all people? Especially someone you’ve always badmouthed?”

You felt the blood drain from your face. You’re dead, your mind screamed at you, but before you could even attempt a defense, your brother turned to you with an authoritative wave of his hand.

“Go to your room,” Changwook said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. “This is a men’s conversation.”

You were trapped between two drunken men. Changwook, still pouring himself another shot of soju, mumbled incoherently about everything under the sun, while Seungcheol, clearly in no better condition, had his head dropped onto your shoulder. The weight of him was comforting yet overwhelming, especially with the alcohol fumes wafting off him.

"Our Y/n couldn’t drink dairy, so you have to make sure her latte is always with oat milk,” Changwook slurred, his words slightly jumbled as he tried to sit up straight. He pointed a wobbly finger at Seungcheol as though delivering a life-or-death instruction.

Seungcheol gasped dramatically, his head lifting momentarily before snuggling back into the crook of your neck. “Our Y/n can’t handle dairy? Oh my god, poor Y/n!” His words came out in a hushed, exaggerated whisper. “I’ll buy you tons of oat milk, Y/n. Gallons of it! So you’ll never, ever get a stomachache again!”

You tried to suppress your laugh, but a chuckle escaped as Seungcheol tightened his arms around your waist, nuzzling into your neck like a sleepy puppy. He smelled like soju mixed with the faint remnants of his cologne—a mix that somehow still made your heart skip.

“Alright, Mr. Gallant Knight,” you murmured, brushing his hair back gently. “Let’s get you home before you start a crusade against all dairy products.”

“Nooo,” Seungcheol whined softly, his voice muffled against your skin. “Let me stay here. I promise I won’t do anything! I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to, cross my heart.”

You shook your head, unable to contain your amusement. He was far too cute like this. “Alright, fine,” you relented with a small smile. “But we’re at least getting you into bed. Let’s get up on the count of three, okay?”

Seungcheol groaned in protest, but you felt him adjust slightly, his arms loosening around your waist.

“One,” you began, bracing yourself. “Two… three—"

You tried to pull him up, but Seungcheol, true to his drunken state, flopped back onto the couch like a boneless doll.

“Too heavy,” he mumbled, pouting. “You have to help me, Y/n. I’m weak, but you’re strong.”

“Strong?” you repeated with a laugh. “What are you even talking about? You’re twice my size!”

“Exactly,” Seungcheol replied, his tone overly serious. “That’s why you’re amazing. You’re tiny but mighty.”

From across the room, Changwook let out a grunt as he finally rose from his seat, wobbling slightly before glaring at Seungcheol. “Stop flirting with my sister, you lightweight,” he muttered, pointing a finger at him before stumbling toward his room. “And don’t you dare think about sharing a bed with her!”

“Noted, Coach Ji,” Seungcheol mumbled sleepily, waving his hand in the air.

You sighed, shaking your head as you tugged at Seungcheol’s arm again. “Come on, big guy. Let’s at least get you lying down before Changwook comes back with a lecture.”

Seungcheol finally complied, leaning heavily on you as you helped him to your room. “Thanks, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice soft. “You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling nonetheless. “Just don’t puke on my bed, okay?”

“I’d never,” he promised, his words slurring as he flopped onto your mattress, instantly dozing off.

You sighed again, pulling a blanket over him before retreating to the couch. As you settled in, you couldn’t help but smile at the chaos that was your life—and at the man now snoring softly in your bed.

“Where’s Mr. Choi? He’s not here yet?” Mingyu’s voice broke the usual morning buzz of the office. He glanced around, noting the conspicuous absence of the boss. It was already 8 a.m., and Mr. Choi was typically seated at his desk by 7:45, meticulously reviewing his schedule or flipping through a book.

Jeonghan checked his watch and frowned. “I know, right? He hasn’t called or texted me either. Do you think he’s sick or something?” he wondered aloud, a hint of concern creeping into his tone.

“He’s late,” you mumbled, barely glancing up from your phone as you replied.

“How do you know that?!” Mingyu and Jeonghan exclaimed in unison, their voices tinged with surprise.

“He texted me,” you replied nonchalantly, still focused on your phone.

Mingyu’s jaw dropped, and he pouted, looking genuinely hurt. “He texted you? But not me? He still doesn’t trust me with his schedule. What if he hates me?” he whined, the last part almost a whisper.

You chuckled softly, grabbing a stack of documents from your desk and placing them in front of him. “That’s why I’m tutoring you today. We’re going over how to prepare presentation materials and manage other tasks.”

Mingyu sighed dramatically but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Alright…” He reluctantly took the documents, the pout still lingering on his face, but his determination to improve was clear.

Suddenly, Jeonghan’s voice interrupted the moment. “Oh…”

Both you and Mingyu turned toward him, brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” you asked, stepping over to Jeonghan’s desk.

Jeonghan didn’t answer immediately, his eyes fixed on his computer screen. His lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at something. Curiosity got the better of you, and you leaned in to look.

On the screen was a post from the company’s internal community. The headline read, “Mr. Park Is Caught!” Beneath it was a photo of Seungcheol standing in the marketing department alongside the head of HR.

Your brows knitted together. “What’s that supposed to mean? Is Mr. Choi investigating him behind our backs?”

Jeonghan bit his lip, his gaze still glued to the screen. “Looks like it…” he murmured.

You quickly scanned the comments below the post. Employees from the marketing department were sharing snippets of gossip. Someone had claimed that Mr. Park had been caught falsifying records and embezzling departmental funds.

Mingyu, who had walked over to peek at the screen, let out a low whistle. “Wow. I didn’t think Mr. Park would actually get caught.”

You frowned, a mix of surprise and worry swirling in your chest. “He didn’t mention any of this to us,” you said softly, almost to yourself.

Jeonghan finally looked away from the screen, his expression thoughtful. “If he’s handling this personally, it must be serious.”

Mingyu crossed his arms, tilting his head. “Well, if Mr. Park’s really guilty, it’s good that Mr. Choi’s taking action. But why keep it so secretive? I mean, we’re his team.”

Jeonghan sighed and leaned back in his chair. “It’s probably because this involves embezzlement. You know how sensitive that kind of accusation is. He probably didn’t want anyone tipping Mr. Park off before he had solid evidence.”

You nodded slowly, processing everything. “Still, I hope Mr. Choi’s being careful. This kind of situation can get messy.”

Jeonghan gave you a knowing look but didn’t say anything. Mingyu, however, turned to you with a cheeky grin. “Wow, you’re so concerned about him. Are you sure you’re not his girlfriend”

You shot him a glare, heat rising to your cheeks. “Shut up and get back to your documents, Mingyu.”

He laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. But seriously, I’m curious how this all plays out.”

Jeonghan nodded, his gaze returning to the screen. “Me too. If Mr. Park’s really guilty, this could shake things up in the company.”

You bit your lip, silently hoping Seungcheol would return soon—with answers.

Seungcheol’s arrival on the floor sent a wave of tension through the secretary team. His usual composed demeanor was even more rigid than usual, and without wasting a second, he summoned Jeonghan into his office. The atmosphere was thick with curiosity and unease, but you kept your head down, silently supervising Mingyu as he prepared materials for tomorrow’s meeting with all the department heads.

“So, what’s Mr. Park’s status now?” Mingyu asked, flipping through a document from the marketing department. His voice was casual, but his eyes betrayed his curiosity.

You shook your head. “I don’t know, Mingyu, and honestly, I don’t want to fill my head with too much right now. I’m leaving this company in a week, remember?”

Mingyu sighed, setting his pen down. “Yeah, I remember… But you know what? As much as I believe in myself, I can’t help but worry. What if I can’t replace you?”

You gave him a reassuring smile and patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Mingyu. It took me seven years to get to where I am. You’ll get there too.”

Mingyu bit his lip, nodding. “You’re right… You’re really good at comforting people, Ms. Ji,” he said playfully, his usual pout returning.

You laughed. “Of course, I am! Now, finish this and send it to me before lunch.”

Just then, Jeonghan stepped out of Seungcheol’s office, his expression unreadable. The entire team turned their attention to him as he cleared his throat.

“Mr. Park has officially been fired as of today. HR has concluded the investigation, and with all the evidence gathered, there was no room for negotiation. A replacement needs to be found as soon as possible. There’s already a potential candidate, but the final decision still needs to be made.”

A murmur spread across the room, but before you could react, Jeonghan turned to you. “Can we talk in private, Y/n?”

You blinked at him but nodded, following him to the pantry. The moment the door shut behind you, Jeonghan exhaled deeply, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Mr. Choi mentioned your name as the potential head of the marketing department.”

Your eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

Jeonghan sighed, looking at you seriously. “I know it’s sudden, but he has his reasons. And honestly? After hearing him out, I found myself agreeing with him.” He still seemed surprised at himself for admitting that.

“But… next week is my last day!” you protested, your voice rising slightly in disbelief.

Jeonghan placed a firm grip on your arms, steadying you. “Listen to me—HR and Mr. Choi are definitely going to call you soon. You need to prepare yourself.”

You let out a frustrated sigh. “That’s too much responsibility! You know I was planning to travel across Asia after this.”

Jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head. “And that’s what you’re most worried about, huh?” His tone was amused, but there was also a hint of admiration in his eyes. “Look, whatever decision you make, I’ll support you. But just think about it, alright?”

Your mind was already spinning with the weight of the unexpected offer. A promotion just as you were about to leave? It was almost ironic.

"Ms. Ji, can you come to my office for a sec?"

You nearly jumped from your seat at the sudden sound of Seungcheol’s voice filling the secretary team’s office. The room fell silent as all eyes darted toward him. He stood behind his office door, only half of his body visible as he peeked outside, waiting for you.

You stole a glance at Jeonghan, who was already looking at you, his expression unreadable but his eyes silently sending you a thousand words of encouragement. You sighed, smoothing down your blazer before standing up and making your way to Seungcheol’s office.

The moment you stepped inside, you noticed that the blinds had been down since this morning. You figured after the confrontation with Mr. Park, he must have needed some privacy.

"Mr. Choi," you called his name softly as you stopped in front of his desk.

Without a word, Seungcheol handed you a file. You hesitated for a moment before taking it, flipping it open to find pages upon pages of evidence—proof of Mr. Park’s embezzlement during his tenure as the head of the marketing department. Your brows furrowed. This file was supposed to be confidential, a matter strictly between him and HR. So why was he showing it to you? Especially when you were set to leave in just a week?

"You told me about this last night," he said, his voice calm but firm.

Your mind raced back to your conversation with him the night before. You had mentioned it—your suspicions about the marketing department’s financial discrepancies. You had noticed missing reports from the past two years that didn’t sit right with you. And despite your reluctance, you had handed him the findings you had gathered over time.

Wait.

Your eyes flickered up to Seungcheol, your expression shifting. "You weren’t drunk?"

He smirked, leaning against the edge of his desk. "I was just acting."

Your breath hitched as the realization hit you. The way he had suddenly become lighter when he was supposedly dead weight on your shoulder last night. The way he had pulled you aside, listening intently as you spoke about the missing reports.

You didn’t remember much about how the conversation had unfolded, but somehow, in that moment, you had found the courage to show him everything.

"And you were right," Seungcheol continued, pulling out another document from his desk—your resignation letter.

Your heartbeat quickened.

"I have an offer for you," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Be our new head of the marketing department."

Silence hung in the air.

You stood frozen, the weight of his words sinking in.

"You’re probably the only person who knows the ins and outs of the marketing department better than anyone else," he reasoned, his voice steady. And he wasn’t wrong. You had spent the past seven years collecting reports, reviewing files, and meticulously studying every department before handing them over to him. You knew how the department functioned, where its strengths and weaknesses lay.

But despite the logic in his argument, you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. Not now. It was too sudden, too unexpected. You knew Seungcheol always had a plan—he never made decisions lightly. But the real question was, were you ready for more?

"What do you think, Ms. Ji?" His voice was softer now, laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

You swallowed, taking a deep breath before finally speaking. "I’ll think about it, sir."

Seungcheol studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before nodding. "Alright. You can go back."

That was your cue to leave. You turned on your heels, stepping out of his office, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

Why did everything suddenly lead to this?

"Want to talk about it?" Seungcheol’s voice was soft as he cuddled you close, his warmth seeping into your skin. His hand moved lazily through your hair, fingers tracing slow, comforting patterns.

He had invited you over tonight after you received a text from your brother, letting you know he was having friends over. You hadn’t wanted to be home with all the noise, and without asking too many questions, Seungcheol had offered his place. Now, nestled against him, your head resting on his shoulder and your arm draped around his torso, you felt the weight of the day pressing down on you.

"I'm all ears," he murmured, sensing your hesitation about his earlier offer.

Doubt flickered through you before you finally spoke. "Are you..." You hesitated. "Are you going to listen to me as my boss or as my boyfriend?"

Seungcheol hummed thoughtfully. "I'll decide after."

His answer caught you off guard. It sounded too neutral, almost detached, and something about it stung more than you expected. Without thinking, you shifted away from him, turning your back.

"Hey," Seungcheol's arm immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against him. His grip was firm yet gentle, grounding.

"Tell me, baby," he coaxed, his breath warm against the back of your neck. "I'll listen to you as your partner. Go ahead."

Slowly, you turned back to face him, meeting his steady gaze. "I don’t want to accept the offer."

Seungcheol said nothing, only watching you carefully, his fingers tightening slightly on your waist, a silent sign that he was listening.

"It’s too much for me," you admitted. "A big responsibility. And I don’t think I’m cut out for that—I’m not that passionate about it."

Seungcheol frowned. "You're a very passionate person, Y/n."

You shook your head. "Not about this. Not anymore." A deep sigh left your lips. "I'm tired of working, Cheol. I just want to travel the world, maybe get a job with less responsibility. Something that doesn’t drain me like this."

Seungcheol remained quiet, his dark eyes locked onto yours, absorbing every word. His fingers traced absentminded circles on your waist, a silent reminder that he was there, that he heard you.

"I need a break," you whispered, voice barely audible. "Before I break."

Something flickered in Seungcheol’s expression—regret, concern, maybe even guilt. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. "I’m sorry," he murmured, his lips lingering for a moment. "I didn’t realize how much you’ve been carrying. And I—" He exhaled sharply. "I’ve been a jerk, haven’t I?"

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "I think I wore myself out, Cheol. I hit my limit."

Seungcheol nodded, his thumb brushing along your cheek. "Then you should rest. You need to rest. Or else you’re going to—"

"Explode," you finished for him, smiling faintly. "Like when I called you drunk months ago."

A chuckle rumbled from his chest, the tension in the air easing. "I should thank your drunk self. If not for that, I wouldn’t have known my secretary wanted me to be her date.

You rolled your eyes, fingers threading through his hair. "That’s what you took from that?"

He grinned. "Well, that, and the fact that you can’t handle your alcohol."

You swatted his arm playfully, and he caught your wrist, tugging you closer.

"I just want to stay home for a while," you murmured, your voice softer now. "Do things I actually enjoy. Maybe pick up a hobby. Get a pet." You sighed as if the mere thought of it was a relief. "And none of it involves going back to work anytime soon."

Seungcheol studied you, a small smile tugging at his lips. "You sound like a good wife."

You chuckled, raising a brow. "I would make a good wife."

His eyes twinkled with mischief. "Really?"

Before you could answer, he tackled you onto the bed, his hands finding your sides as he tickled you mercilessly. Laughter filled the room as you squirmed beneath him, the weight of your earlier worries momentarily forgotten.

Your heart raced as Seungcheol hovered above you, his eyes dark with warmth and something deeper—something that made your breath hitch. His weight against you was comforting rather than overwhelming, his presence grounding.

"You tried my cooking earlier," you teased, giggling when he trailed soft kisses across your face—your forehead, your cheek, the tip of your nose. Each touch was featherlight, sending a shiver down your spine.

Seungcheol hummed in agreement, his lips brushing against your skin as he whispered, "You’ll make a good wife."

Before you could react, he closed the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss—slow and deliberate, as if savoring every second. His hand cradled your cheek, thumb stroking gently, while his other arm held you firmly against him, as if he never wanted to let go.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

It was your favorite place—a simple barbecue restaurant where you and Jeonghan used to have dinner together during your early years at the company. The scent of grilled meat filled the air, blending with the warmth of laughter and chatter. Tonight, the atmosphere buzzed with a mix of celebration and bittersweet goodbyes as everyone gathered for your farewell party.

Seated around the long wooden tables were your colleagues—the secretary team members, department representatives, and even a few unexpected guests. Among them was Seungcheol, his presence instantly commanding attention. It was rare to see him at casual company gatherings like this, and his attendance left many curious. But since it was you—one of his most trusted employees—who was leaving, everyone assumed that was the reason he sat beside you, his presence a quiet yet significant statement.

After a while, you stood, clearing your throat as conversations died down. With a grateful smile, you delivered your speech—thanking everyone for their support, for the years of teamwork and shared challenges, and apologizing for any moments you might have fallen short.

When you finished, the room erupted into cheers and applause, glasses raised in a heartfelt toast. Laughter followed, but beneath it all was an unspoken truth: this chapter was ending, and things would never quite be the same again.

Seungcheol cleared his throat, the deep sound cutting through the lingering laughter and drawing everyone's attention like a switch had been flipped. Conversations faded, and all eyes turned to him.

He sat upright, his expression composed yet sincere. "First of all, I want to thank Ms. Ji for her hard work all these years," he began, his voice steady but carrying weight. "She’s been one of the most dedicated people in this company, and honestly, it’s hard to imagine this place without her. We’re losing not just a talented employee but also someone who made things run smoother for all of us."

A murmur of agreement swept through the group, and you felt a mix of pride and guilt settle in your chest.

Seungcheol glanced at you briefly before continuing. "And... I also want to take this chance to apologize," he said, his tone softening. "For any unnecessary pressure, for the late nights, for expecting too much sometimes. I know I wasn’t always the easiest boss to work with."

You shook your head slightly, about to reassure him, but before you could say anything, he inhaled deeply and, with absolute confidence, added,

"Also, since we’re all here, I think now’s a good time to make an announcement."

You frowned, confused, and Jeonghan—who was sipping his drink beside you—arched an eyebrow.

Seungcheol’s gaze met yours, then he turned back to the room. "Ms. Ji and I are dating."

A moment of silence. Then—

"What?!" Mingyu choked on his drink, coughing as Jeonghan patted his back. Gasps and murmurs spread through the group like wildfire. Even the usually composed members of the secretary team looked at each other in shock.

You stiffened, your body going rigid as the realization sank in. Your fingers clutched at the fabric of your dress under the table, your pulse hammering in your ears. Slowly, almost mechanically, you turned to Seungcheol, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What—why would you—"

"Wait, wait, wait." Jeonghan put a hand up, smirking. "That's expected. Since when?"

Seungcheol chuckled, resting his arm on the back of your chair. "For a while now."

Meanwhile, Jeonghan just sat there, utterly amused, swirling his drink in his glass before finally saying, "So this is why you’ve been sneaking around, huh?"

"Jeonghan!" You hissed, shooting him a glare, but he only shrugged, clearly enjoying your suffering.

Mingyu, still coughing slightly, gaped at Seungcheol like he had just grown a second head. "Wait, wait, wait—you two?! Since when?! And why didn’t I know?!"

Your face burned as everyone’s eyes darted between you and him, trying to process the sudden revelation. Someone from marketing whispered, That explains why he’s actually here tonight.

"You could’ve warned me first," you hissed under your breath, still reeling from the shock.

Seungcheol leaned in slightly, his voice teasing, "Where's the fun in that?"

The room exploded into a mix of cheers, teasing remarks, and incredulous laughter. Some congratulated you, others demanded details, and Mingyu, still processing, just groaned, "Why am I always the last to know?!"

You sighed, covering your face, but despite the initial embarrassment, you couldn’t help the small smile forming on your lips. Seungcheol had just made sure this farewell party was one no one would forget.

Your fingers twitched. If there weren’t so many witnesses, you might have actually smacked him.

"So you two have actually been together this whole time?" One of the HR reps asked, her mouth still slightly open in disbelief. "Like, during work hours? During meetings? While she was still his secretary?"

Oh no. That was a dangerous line of questioning.

You opened your mouth, scrambling to regain some sort of control over the situation, but Seungcheol, of course, was faster.

"It started after work," he clarified, his voice smooth and nonchalant. "And it’s not like she’s breaking any rules. She’s leaving the company, after all."

The way he said it—so effortlessly confident—made your stomach twist. You wanted to argue, to regain some control over this mess he had just thrown you into, but then you caught the way he was looking at you.

There was something possessive in his gaze, a quiet certainty that sent a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t ashamed. He wasn’t hiding.

And suddenly, the tension shifted.

"You’re unbelievable," you muttered, barely able to contain the heat rising to your cheeks.

He chuckled, finally turning back to his drink. "And yet, you’re still here."

The table erupted into laughter, cheers, and even a few claps. Someone from the legal department shouted, "Well, damn. We need to drink to this!"

"Oh—another thing to celebrate," Seungcheol announced, his voice effortlessly cutting through the laughter and clinking glasses.

You turned to him, sensing something in his tone, but before you could ask, he raised his glass.

"Congratulations to Mr. Yoon, our new Marketing Department Head."

A moment of silence hung in the air before the entire table erupted in cheers and applause.

"What?!" Mingyu nearly knocked over his drink in shock. "Jeonghan-hyung? When did this happen?"

Jeonghan, ever composed, simply smirked as he leaned back in his chair. "A while ago."

"You knew?!" Mingyu gawked at him before turning to Seungcheol. "And no one thought to tell me?!"

Seungcheol chuckled, completely unfazed. "HR finalized it this afternoon. He was my first choice from the start."

"But—but—" Mingyu stammered, looking between you and Jeonghan. "I thought she was the best candidate?!"

You smiled, lifting your drink. "I’m leaving, remember?"

Jeonghan shrugged, tapping his fingers against his glass. "And someone had to clean up after her, so here I am."

Laughter filled the table, and soon, everyone was raising their drinks toward Jeonghan, congratulating him on the promotion.

Seungcheol leaned in closer to you, his hand finding yours under the table. His voice was low, meant only for you.

"Now you really have no reason to stay at work."

You rolled your eyes playfully but squeezed his hand in return. "You planned all of this, didn’t you?"

He smirked, his thumb brushing against your fingers. "Maybe. But I also knew it was what’s best for everyone."

You sighed, glancing at Jeonghan, who was basking in the attention, and then at Seungcheol, who was watching you with that knowing look.

Despite everything, you couldn’t deny it—this felt right.

It had been ten months since you left the company, but something about Mingyu working as Seungcheol’s secretary still didn’t sit right with you. This morning only confirmed your suspicions. Seungcheol, who once carried himself with unwavering composure, now sat at the breakfast table with noticeable dark circles under his eyes. You couldn’t recall a single time in the past when he looked this tired.

“What’s your schedule like today?” you asked, setting a plate of breakfast in front of him along with a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

Seungcheol gave you a faint smile before replying, “Just a quick briefing with finance. I’ll probably be home late; I have a meeting with Joshua over dinner."

Your arms crossed as you stood beside the table, watching him. “You never memorize your own schedule,” you pointed out, your tone laced with concern.

He nodded in agreement, his attention on his food. “I used to have Jeonghan to remind me about everything. And you,” he added, glancing up at you with a soft smile. “You made sure everything ran smoothly.”

You watched him take another bite before leaning against the table. “How many staff members is Mingyu working with?” you asked, your tone more curious this time.

Seungcheol chuckled, wiping the corner of his mouth. “Why are you asking?”

“Because it’s obvious you’re overworking yourself, babe,” you said bluntly, crossing your arms again.

He paused, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “I’m fine, love. Don’t worry,” he reassured, though his voice didn’t quite convince you. “Mingyu’s my only secretary now, but the system’s changed. He’s managing just fine.”

You sighed and sat down in front of him, resting your chin on your hand. “Is Mingyu still an idiot?”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but laugh, his tired expression lifting just a little. “He is,” he admitted, shaking his head. “But he’s getting better, I promise. You’d be surprised.”

You weren’t entirely convinced, and your frustration showed as you frowned at him. “You used to come home looking less like a zombie,” you muttered.

Seungcheol reached across the table and took your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I know you’re worried,” he said, his voice soft. “But really, I’ve got this. Mingyu may be a work in progress, but we’re managing.”

You squeezed his hand in return, but your concern lingered. “Just don’t forget to take care of yourself, alright?”

He smiled at you, a warmth in his eyes that made you feel just a little more at ease. “I won’t. I promise.”

As Seungcheol finished the last bite of his breakfast, he leaned back in his chair and tilted his head slightly, his gaze softening as it shifted to you. "How’s the baking class going?" he asked, his tone casual but genuinely curious.

You perked up slightly at his question, a smile tugging at your lips. "It’s going really well. I finally mastered the chiffon cake yesterday," you said, your excitement seeping into your voice.

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "The one you said was impossible to get right?"

You nodded eagerly. "Yep. It took me three tries, but I did it. The instructor even said I nailed the texture and flavor."

He smiled, the fatigue on his face momentarily fading as he watched you talk. "Look at you, becoming a pro baker already," he teased, though there was an unmistakable pride in his tone.

You chuckled, waving off his comment. "I wouldn’t say ‘pro,’ but it’s been fun. I didn’t think I’d enjoy baking as much as I do now."

Seungcheol leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he looked at you. "So, when are you going to let me taste this famous chiffon cake?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning back in your chair. "Soon. I just want to perfect it a little more before I let you try it. You’re too honest with your feedback," you said, narrowing your eyes at him with mock suspicion.

He laughed, the deep sound filling the room and making your chest warm. "You know I only critique because I care," he said, reaching out to poke your arm. "But fine. I’ll wait until you think it’s ready."

You smirked, crossing your arms. "You better. No sneaking bites when I’m not looking."

"I wouldn’t dare," he replied, his tone exaggeratedly serious.

The two of you fell into an easy silence for a moment, the tension from earlier easing as you both enjoyed the quiet morning together.

"Maybe," Seungcheol began, breaking the silence, "you could make a batch of something for Joshua’s dinner meeting. He has a sweet tooth, you know."

You raised an eyebrow at him, pretending to be skeptical. "Are you volunteering me to impress your business partner with baked goods now?"

"Maybe," he admitted with a cheeky grin. "But only because I know you’d knock it out of the park."

You shook your head with a laugh, but you couldn’t deny how his words filled you with a small sense of pride. "Fine," you said. "I’ll make some cookies or brownies. But you owe me."

Seungcheol smirked. "Deal. I’ll make it worth your while."

The restaurant was dimly lit, with soft jazz music playing in the background. Seungcheol sat across from Joshua at the private dining table, his posture relaxed but still exuding authority. Mingyu, seated beside him, diligently took notes and managed the documents for the formal part of the meeting.

The discussion went smoothly, with both parties agreeing on the next steps for their partnership. As the waiter cleared their plates and brought out coffee and dessert, the atmosphere gradually shifted to a more casual tone. Seungcheol leaned back in his chair, finally allowing himself to relax.

Joshua stirred his coffee, a friendly smile on his face as he looked at Mingyu. "I have to say, Mingyu, you’ve really grown into your role. The professionalism you’ve shown tonight is impressive. So different from how you were!"

Mingyu let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, I had to step up, didn’t I? Working for Seungcheol hyung isn’t exactly a walk in the park."

Seungcheol chuckled, glancing at Mingyu with a raised eyebrow. "Are you complaining?"

"Not at all!" Mingyu quickly replied, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I’m just saying, I had to adapt."

Joshua laughed, clearly amused by their dynamic. "It’s good to see, though. I remember the Mingyu who couldn’t sit still in meetings or keep track of his tasks. Now look at you—organized, professional, and confident."

Mingyu puffed out his chest jokingly, but there was a hint of genuine pride in his smile. "Well, I had a great mentor," he said, nodding toward Seungcheol.

Seungcheol scoffed, though a small smile played on his lips. "Don’t get too cocky, Mingyu. You still have a long way to go."

Joshua tilted his head, a curious expression crossing his face. "By the way, how did Mingyu end up working for you, Seungcheol?"

"Trust me," Seungcheol said, a playful glint in his eye, "I didn’t want to hire him at first. But he insisted, and I figured if he was going to work anywhere, it might as well be under someone who wouldn’t go easy on him."

"And he doesn’t go easy on me," Mingyu added, holding up his hands. "This man is tough."

Joshua laughed, clearly entertained. "Well, I have to say, it’s working. You’ve come a long way, Mingyu. But I bet it’s also a little intimidating, working for your family."

"It is," Mingyu admitted, "but it’s also motivating. I can’t slack off when my boss knows everything about me, including my bad habits."

Seungcheol shook his head, though his expression softened. "To be fair, he’s proven himself. He’s still Mingyu, though, so he keeps things interesting."

Seungcheol chuckled to himself as he sipped his coffee, the memory of that day playing vividly in his mind. It was his aunt's anniversary, and the gathering at his house was the perfect opportunity to introduce you to his family. At least, that was his plan.

You had looked stunning that day, wearing a soft pastel dress that complimented you beautifully. Yet, your nervousness was unmistakable—the way your fingers fidgeted with the strap of your bag, the quick glances you stole at Seungcheol for reassurance, and the tiny, hesitant smile that melted his heart every time he caught you looking at him.

He remembered how your confidence faltered the moment you stepped into the living room, where the cheerful buzz of conversation filled the space. His family greeted you warmly, but then your eyes landed on Mingyu standing casually by the snack table.

Your reaction was priceless. Your eyes widened as if you'd seen a ghost, and before you could stop yourself, you mouthed to Seungcheol, What is he doing here?

Mingyu’s face lit up instantly when he noticed you. "Noona!" he called out excitedly, leaving his spot to approach you.

Seungcheol stifled a laugh as you turned to him, utterly baffled, while Mingyu pulled you into a friendly hug. "What... what is happening?" you whispered urgently to Seungcheol as Mingyu grinned beside you.

Seungcheol smirked, enjoying your confusion. "Mingyu is my cousin," he explained casually. "He’s my aunt’s son."

You blinked in shock, staring at both men as if the pieces of a puzzle were suddenly falling into place. "That explains a lot," you muttered, earning a laugh from Seungcheol and a curious look from Mingyu.

From that day on, your dynamic with Mingyu took a playful turn. What started as harmless teasing quickly became your favorite way to keep him on his toes, especially after he became Seungcheol’s secretary.

"You should work harder, Mingyu," you had told him one day when he stopped by your place to drop off some files for Seungcheol. Leaning against the doorframe, you smirked knowingly at him. "You only got that job because the boss is your cousin. Nepo baby."

Mingyu groaned dramatically, running a hand through his hair. "Noona, you can’t keep calling me that! I’m actually working really hard, you know."

"You better," you shot back, grinning mischievously. "I worked hard supervising you."

Seungcheol, who had been silently observing the exchange from the couch, couldn’t hide his amusement. "Don’t go too hard on him, love," he teased, though his tone was far from serious.

Mingyu pouted, looking between the two of you. "Great. Now I have two bosses to impress."

"You should be honored," you quipped, sending him a wink before heading back to the kitchen.

As Seungcheol watched Mingyu’s exasperated expression, he couldn’t help but smile. Despite all the teasing, the camaraderie between you and Mingyu warmed his heart. It was proof of how naturally you had integrated into his life—his family—and how, even in moments of chaos, you brought lightness and joy to everything you touched.

End.

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mahgyu · 10 months ago

Text

──── In the beginning of your relationship, you learned that Satoru was the type who liked to sleep cuddling. Before meeting you, Satoru used to sleep hugging a pillow, even. It wasn't exactly a necessity for him, but just something he liked and that made him fall asleep faster. You, on the other hand, weren't exactly that type.

Hugs before sleeping? Perfect. Having someone on top of you while trying to sleep? Not so perfect. Fortunately, the two of you reached an agreement about that.

But sometimes, like today, Satoru was extremely clingy. He was sleeping deeply, with his body completely on top of yours, his face buried in the curve of your neck, and a leg trapped between yours.

You loved holding him that way, having the strongest man you had ever known so vulnerable curled up in your arms and sleeping peacefully. Satoru slept heavily when he felt that comfortable, and the deeper he slept, the heavier he became on you. As mentioned, your boyfriend is a strong guy, so now it was almost uncomfortable for you.

You feel this pressure against your chest as he rests on you, completely at ease. You thought that maybe, if you tried hard enough, you could fall asleep, but no, it’s not possible.

"Baby..." You whisper, hoping it will be enough to wake him, but he just keeps snoring, each snore reverberating through your body.

"Toru...?" You try again, a little louder.

"SATORU!" Still nothing. He barely moves a bit in his sleep, letting out a particularly loud snore.

OK. Plan B. If you can't get him off, it's time to slide down. Only after two unsuccessful attempts, you somehow manage to do it, taking a big breath as you escape. You haven't even fully turned to the side when Satoru wakes up, confused and abandoned, with the source of warmth under him gone. He moves his hand aimlessly over the sheets until he feels you.

"Where are you going?" He murmurs sleepily, moving closer to you. "No..." A heavy arm wraps around you, pulling you back to him with ease. There’s a soft hum as he feels your body fit into his.

"Toru?" You call him sweetly. "You know I can't sleep like this, hmm? Come on." You pat his arm, signaling for him to let you go.

Satoru doesn't move. Instead, he just makes some whiny sounds before rubbing his face in your hair.

"Come on, let me go, please?" More pleading.

"Nuh-uh, I don't want to." He whines. "Hug me." He pouts, looking so needy and neglected.

"Love, you're acting like a baby" You complain.

"Because I am. I'm your baby!" He says defiantly. "So, you should treat me like one."

At this point, you know it won't help to try to convince him when he's in this mood. You sigh, deciding to give up and give in.

About five minutes pass in complete silence and then Satoru quietly asks: "You really can't sleep?" The thought of this now bothers him. How could he relax knowing that you're not even comfortable?

"Mhm" You respond as he pulls separates from you.

"OK, I'll give up the hug time for you!" He sighs, rolling away from you dramatically. A few minutes later, he sighs again, a bit louder.

This is his cue to tell you that you should give in and cuddle with him. But you can't, having finally found a position that relaxes all the right places in your body, perfect for falling asleep.

"Are you really going to leave me abandoned?" His voice is so stupidly captivating that it makes you melt. You can't say no to that.

Satoru smiles when he hears the rustling of the sheets, your body moving toward him.

With open arms, he welcomes you back as you rest your head on his chest. "I think I can sleep like this..." You admit as he smiles, making sure you're comfortable but still wrapped up in him.

Hiii, long time no see, uh? 👀This time I brought something cute, a thought I had because I've been feeling so needy and missing our Gojo😞

(It is not well corrected, please ignore any possible mistakes.)

Your interaction is very important to me, reblogs and comments are always welcome. 🫶🏻💕

⠀

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florencemtrash · 1 year ago

Text

He Feels Safe With You — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel's sleeping habits begin to worry you, but after a conversation with Cassian, you realize you've misinterpreted the entire situation.

Warnings: Major fluff. Like tooth-rotting sweetness. Sleepy Az.

Author's note: I should be sleeping because I have work tomorrow but instead I've chosen to write this oneshot and I have no regrets.

It was starting to become a problem now.

You cocked your head to the side, cradling a cup of tea in your hands and watching Azriel as he continued to sleep soundly in your bed. You had the windows cracked open and the early Autumn breeze swirled indoors with the scent of lavender, bergamot, and the strawberry jam you’d slathered over your toast. You checked the time once again on the glossy marble clock face. The arrow-shaped hour hand clicked ever closer to 11am, the minute hand close to overtaking its competitor.

10:55am and Azriel was still asleep.

The sheets clustered loose and low around his waist, mimicking the curling of his shadows up and down the ridges of his spine and across the delicate membrane of his wings. His wings hung loose and relaxed, stretching off the edges of your bed and caressing the floor with a lover’s touch. You blushed at the sight. When you and Azriel had first started courting each other three years ago, you’d thought through the mechanics of housing an Illyrian warrior in your bed — should you buy a new bed frame and mattress? Did you even have space for it in your apartment? The answer had been no to both, and yet Azriel loved when your daytime activities ended here instead of at the townhouse. If he cared about having to walk sideways to avoid the bookshelves in the halls or having to crouch to avoid the overhang above the staircase, he didn’t mention it.

Three hours ago you’d woken up beneath the gentle weight of his wings, untangled yourself from Azriel’s greedy limbs, and crept down the stairs to your kitchen, bleary eyed but well rested. But that was three hours ago! Since then you’d brushed your teeth, washed your face, and eaten breakfast, and still the Shadowsinger hadn’t stirred. You were beginning to question whether he truly was the Spymaster of the Night Court as you sat in your velvet chair and admired your lover. You traced all the subtle movements of his body as he muddled through dreams you could only wonder at — the creasing of his brow, the slack line of his lips as he breathed, the twitching of his fingertips as he reached for some phantom object.

The clock struck eleven and you sighed, gathering your plates but leaving Azriel’s pile of toast, butter, and honey alone. You also left the teapot and its mismatched cup, blowing magic over its lid in a silent command to keep its contents hot until Azriel awoke.

“I’ll be down in the shop,” you whispered to his shadows, trusting that they would relay the message when their master finally decided to grace the daytime with his presence.

One by one, shadows slipped off Azriel’s skin, curling around your ankles and wrists in a silent plea to stay. You shook them off like one might a needy child, promising you’d only be two floors down.

The artists’ corner in Velaris was an eclectic array of compact townhouses, each outwardly dressed in their unique, dazzling finery. Your townhouse was squished between a painting studio and a luthier’s. The painting studio’s owner seemed intent on changing the color of the wooden sidings every other day and the drawings scribbled over the windows every other week. Today it was periwinkle blue to match the hydrangeas overflowing from the window boxes.

You nodded in approval as you flipped the apothecary sign over from “Much apologies, please try another time” to “You’ve caught us! We’re open!” The blue would match your tulip yellow sidings and the clean white accents of the luthier’s. Last week it had been red and that had looked gods-awful.

You busied yourself in the shop, crushing up lavender and herbs and boiling mugwort in fire-stained glassware in between flurries of customers until the medicinal stench in the air grew thick and strong. You were used to it by now. It smelled clean. Like home.

You were finishing tying up a bundle of teabags when Cassian came in carrying a sturdy wooden box under one arm like it weighed five pounds instead of fifty. You snapped out the wrinkles of a cloth bag, dropping the teabags and five vials of sleep serum for the nightingale-winged nymph in front of you.

“Four feathers and three strands of hair, as we bargained for,” you said, sliding the bag across the counter.

The nymph nodded in approval, extending out a wing and shoving her fingers into the pillowy softness. She tested for loose feathers ready to pull.

“You’re a godsend, Y/n, has anyone ever told you that?” She pulled out three feathers, closed her wing, and started testing the feathers on the other side. “Finnigan’s was asking me for ten. Ten! Can you believe that? If I hadn’t found you in time I’d have been reduced to a plucked chicken.” She was much less precious about her mousey brown hair and yanked out three strands at random. “Oops, you get an extra strand today,” she sang, dropping the feathers and hair into the jars you held out.

“Well it’s a good thing you found me then, Moricka.”

“Honestly! I understand he’s got a large studio space he’s renting in the thick of the Palace, and even I will admit the ambiance is rather professional—”

Cassian raised his brow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his scarred lips as he continued to stand motionless in the doorway. It was true your space was more… homey than Finnigan’s, but your expertise shined in intimate spaces. You liked the control and the familiarity that came from running a smaller business and you wouldn’t give it up for the world.

“But I do think the success is getting to his head. You both studied under Lady Madja so I don’t see why—”

You nodded absentmindedly. It was always like this with Moricka. The songbird in her made it difficult for her to stop talking, but at least her voice was pleasant.

She threw her hands up in the air before finally catching wind of another presence in the room. Cassian waved at her with a wink and an orange blush creeped onto her full cheeks. He tended to have that effect on fae with his towering size and the wild beauty of his chiseled jaw and smattering of scars over his cheeks and brow.

“Oh… oh dear, I didn’t realize you had another customer. Oh my goodness I’ve been talking your ear off all this time and you’ve been too kind to say anything. You’re a godsend, Y/n. A godsend! I don’t know what I would do without you, although I should really be letting you go now.” She grabbed her things and sidestepped the range of Cassian’s wings, trying and failing now to gawk. “I’ll see you soon enough again I’m sure.”

“I’ll be here.” You sighed in relief when the doorbell rang behind her petite frame, the inoffensive smile you offered all your customers sliding off your face like oil on water. Cassian chuckled, dropping the box onto the countertop with a dull thud.

“Long day?”

You pulled out a stepstool and began rummaging around through the box, pulling out jars of squid ink, bark trimmings, buttons, and one particularly nasty jar containing a large eye suspended in yellow goo. “It’s not even three.”

“Did I stutter?”

You tapped the glass and the eye swiveled around to look at you, pupil enlarging and constricting with a stutter. “Yes, yes very good,” you muttered your praise and Cassian fought hard not to shiver. He had a stomach for a great many things, but some of the specimens you handled tested his resilience.

“Thank you for bringing all of this. You’ve saved me a great deal of trouble.”

“Perhaps you could do the same for me and tell me where my brother is? I’ve been looking for him all day.” Cassian leaned forward on the counter, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Are you holding him hostage, Y/n? Are you using your feminine powers to bring the poor male to his knees? I must admit, I didn’t imagine you as the kind capable of kidnapping. Or shadow-napping, shall we say?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m hardly holding him hostage.” You gestured down the hallway past the bookshelves and the cases of empty glassware where the light from the staircase glowed like an iron eye. “He’s upstairs sleeping.”

Cassian furrowed his brows, stepping around and past you. He kept his wings tucked closer to his shoulder blades, careful not to upset the cramped organization you maintained in your shop.

He smirked. “Still? Are you sure you didn't work your feminine powers last night?”

You glanced out the store window. A few fae lingered outside the coffee shop across the street clutching takeaway boxes against their chest as they chatted and sipped their drinks. The street was otherwise empty. For now, you wouldn’t have to deal with any customers.

You looked back at Cassian. “I actually wanted to ask you about that.”

His brows furrowed. “About feminine powers?” He'd meant that as a joke.

“Gods, Cassian let that go.” You wrung your hands. “I wanted to ask if Azriel was alright? Has he seemed… normal to you?”

“I don’t know, has he?” Cassian lowered his voice, sinking into one of the stools by the clear glass medicine cabinet. “From what I can tell he seems well. Happy.”

Although happy was an understatement. Ever since you’d stumbled into their lives with Madja’s accolades and your wry humor, Azriel had been a goner. You’d pulled emotions from him as deftly as a spinster with a pile of wool, reduced him to a reverential, lovesick mess, and imbued his existence with a color not even Feyre could mix up. Which made it all the more confusing why you looked so nervous.

“You’ve seen more of him than I have, Y/n.” Cassian said. He braced his elbows against his knees, turning serious. The faint bags under his hazel eyes hinted at sleepless nights spent fussing over Neera. It was their fault really, any daughter of Nesta and Cassian was destined to be restless and particular.

“He just… he’s been sleeping more. Falling into bed early, but waking up late. Sometimes we’ll be reading together or just existing side by side and when I turn to face him, he’s dead asleep on the couch.”

Cassian’s lips twitched, slowly stretching into a smile. You plucked a hemp bag off one of the wall shelves at random, tossing its contents into a mortar and beginning to grind just so you could have something to do with your hands.

“At first I brushed it off, but it’s gotten to a point where I’ll be talking to him — mindless things, but regardless — and I’ll catch him dozing off. He’s always very apologetic after but I…” The mortar and pestle clattered to a stop. “I worry that he’s growing bored of me. Or that he’s sick in a way I can’t help.”

“Y/n.” There was a smile in Cassian’s voice, and indeed when you looked at him, his teeth were glistening in the soft afternoon haze. His eyes shined knowingly, as if the answer were obvious.

You paused. “Yes?”

“He feels safe with you.”

You blinked once. Twice.

“Pardon?”

Cassian tipped back in his seat, knocking his head against the cabinet with a rattle of jars and glass as he laughed. “He’s sleeping so much because he feels safe with you. It’s probably why he prefers to spend time here instead of at the townhouse and why he’s still dead asleep while we’re sitting here gossiping about him. Three years ago you couldn’t even whisper his name in a crowded room without him appearing from the shadows as if summoned.”

You felt heat rise in your cheeks. “Oh... I see.”

Cassian was grinning. “Y/n, I promise you he’s not bored of you. Azriel sleeping is a good thing. The gods know he could use more rest. I think he might be the worst of us when it comes to taking care of ourselves.”

Something about Cassian’s words had a crack splintering in your chest. You knew about his past. You knew of the horrors burned into the ruined skin of his hands and the weight his duties deposited on his shoulders.

And here you’d been worried over him sleeping past noon.

Shadows slipped down the stairs, pooling around your feet in a neat circle and kissing the exposed skin of your ankles. Azriel followed closely behind, still wearing his rumpled hair and pants and a shirt he’d hastily shoved his neck and arms into. He hadn’t even buttoned up the slits below his wings, opting to let the fabric swing free and loose and expose flashes of skin as he walked.

He jutted his chin out in acknowledgement of Cassian and then folded himself over your back, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and dropping his face into the crook of your neck where he breathed in the scent of lemon and lavender and medicine.

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” he said, frowning. There was a slur to his words.

“It’s past three, brother.”

Azriel snapped his head up in surprise, squinting at the window and the afternoon sunlight streaking in. The pale cobblestones shone like they’d been drenched in honey.

“What?”

Cassian rolled his eyes, patting Azriel’s back fondly and mussing up your hair before walking towards the door. He flipped the sign from “You’ve caught us! We’re open!” to “Much apologies, please try another time.”

“Goodnight, you two!" He called from over his back. "Remember we’re meeting at Rhys’s for dinner tonight.” He turned, bracing his arms against the top of the doorway and leaning forward like he meant to share a secret. “8pm sharp. Don’t be too late or we’ll get the wrong idea about what you two are up to.” He winked, then whistled down the street, letting the door close on its own behind him.

Azriel sighed, going back to nuzzling his face in your neck. He peppered the sensitive skin there with kisses.

“Will you be coming back upstairs then?” He murmured hopefully. "Now that you're finished with work?"

You bit your lip and decided rather quickly that the world would not end because you closed a few hours early.

You led him up the stairs, past the kitchen and living room on the second floor, and then up to the third floor — your bedroom. The window was still open, the hustle and bustle of the city and the smell of coffee from across the street wafting in. Steam no longer poured from the lip of the teapot, so you knew Azriel had had something to drink, and where you’d left toast on his plate this morning lay only crumbs.

Azriel dropped to his knees, untying your laces and helping you out of your boots. Then he straightened and tugged at the belt loops of your trousers, silently asking for permission before unbuttoning them and sliding them off your legs. Your shirt, then his shirt, and then his trousers joined the pile of crumpled clothing on the floor.

He gently pushed you back onto the bed, falling face first after you with a sigh. This was his favorite position to sleep in — you comfortable on your back and him laying with his hips slotted in between your legs and his head resting over your heart.

You sank your fingers into his velvety, black hair. His hums of satisfaction flowed through your body, lighting every nerve with a comforting buzz.

“Azriel?” You asked him, before sleep could finally claim him once more.

“Hmmm?”

“Do you feel safe with me?”

He pressed his face further into the soft flesh of your chest, bringing his arms up and around your waist before allowing his wings to do the same. The thin membranes glowed red as hot coals, blocking out the most offensive rays of light from outside.

“When I am with you, I forget that I was ever that boy whose hands got burned. When I am with you, the hundreds of years I spent feeling alone and worthless in this world melt away into nothing. When I am with you — when I am in this place that smells and feels so strongly of you — I can imagine a future that is good and pure and perfect.” He sighed deeply, seemingly ignorant to the pounding of your heart and the waves of feeling flooding your system. “So yes, my love — my Y/n — I do feel safe with you.”

“I feel safe with you too,” you murmured. “I love you, Azriel.”

You kissed the crown of his head, earning one last smile and a slurred, “I love you, Y/n,” before his jaw went slack and the room went silent save for the mixing of your breaths and the stirring of shadows.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #fluff #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #sleepy azriel is the best azriel #i swear i just need a man who wants to sleep with me all hours of the day and is a living furnace #is that too much to ask?

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burymagdalene · 2 months ago

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Drip by Drip - S. Reid x Reader

In which the nine long days spent apart ends in a harmonious reunion of a needy shower spent together.

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader genre: plain smut. (18+ pls pls) I didn't even write 70k words of plot before like I usually do. tags: softdom!Spencer, shower sex, age gap (or could also not be...) pinv, a possessive vibe, fingering, handjob, making out, multiple things being very wet...playing with your tits, creampie, finger sucking, praise, & desperation! wc: 3.3k a/n: More of this. I had a lot of fun writing this even though I kind of felt really dirty to the point of religious guilt as a non-religious person so I hope you guys like it! <3

Your body finally relaxes after what feels like the longest day you’ve had all week once Spencer's shower stream washes over you.

Nine days. Nine brutally slow days of watching over Spencer’s apartment- or torturing yourself by being reminded of his belongings for over a week.

When he first left, you’d been naive. Spencer hasn’t been away for over a week since you’ve started dating. The first time he was gone for three days you felt like you were going to faint. You wish you still had those champagne problems as you’re washing yourself for the trillionth time alone in Spencer’s shower.

The past 24 hours have been especially hard. You were woken up at 5:00 am with Spencer calling you before he had to get ready in the hotel and go out to do whatever had taken up so much of his time in Boise, Idaho.

First, good news: He thinks there is a break in the case, and should be getting home later.

Second, great news: Spencer has conveniently woken up with a hard on that's throbbing helplessly against his stomach.

Which sounds like a heavenly wake-up call. But in the FBI he has to be adaptable to the quickest changes in plans.

Five minutes into purring into your side of the phone while touching yourself to Spencer’s groans, another charming individual begins to call Spencer as well. His boss.

So, tucking himself into the band of his underwear, Spencer leaves again. You could’ve finished yourself off, but self pity got the best of you as you drift off to sleep.

A painfully slow and hard day at work followed, rude people and small mishaps on your part that were blown out of proportion to make you feel worse. A crappy self made dinner that took longer to cook than to eat.

But in Spencer’s shower, you’re able to unwind, happy in knowing you can spend the end of a bad day in your lover's space. Regardless of if he’s here or not. Which is another problem, you haven’t heard from him since he was panting on the phone earlier– so it’s safe to say he probably will not be coming back today because of the rush in which he had to hang up earlier.

Over the water pattering against tiles, you do not hear the key jingle and door shut that signifies Spencer’s long-awaited return. Head down and eyes closed, most of your senses are just focused on trying to unwind.

Spencer, placing his bag down in the kitchen, can hear the shower going and immediately saunters over. Not having a plan, but just to show that he’s finally back. He can’t fathom being home right now without alerting you.

Slowly, as if not to scare you too badly, he probably will though, he slips in through the bathroom door, places his toiletry bag down on the sink.

You’re a bit unfocused, but not completely to the point of missing this. Out of your peripheral vision you see the slightest movement and your head whips to the side. Spencer. You could fucking melt.

Through the steam that has built up, you can make out his slouched figure and contrasting pleased smile. You can’t help yourself, with soft dripping skin you swing his shower door open to greet him.

“Spencer,” you whisper out in shock, trailing water onto his bathroom floor. “Oh my God.”

“Hi my baby-” He reaches out to swipe away some droplets on your face, but doesn’t finish. You’re pulling him into a tight, wet hug.

Arms slung fiercely around his neck, he barely buffers in returning your hug with his jacket-clad arms around your waist.

In the back of your mind you’re aware that the water on your breasts and stomach are soaking through his undershirt. That your clean hair is dropping water onto the shoulder of his jacket. You’re also aware how expensive a suit is.

The harsh disparity from the cool air sticking to your wet skin from the hot (frankly, too hot) shower you were in previously is pebbling your nipples against his now soaked-through button up, your skin is covered in goosebumps that he’s swiping away with his thumb.

A low hum into your ear as he’s trailing his thumb nail against the sensitive part of your inner waist, “Angel girl,” a deep sigh, “I missed you so much.”

Your arms tighten around him, forehead landing on his wet shoulder, you could cry. You could laugh maniacally. Either way, you feel cemented against his frame, the only warmth being produced near you since stepping out of the shower.

A small indent in your lower stomach is being formed from his belt digging into your pliable skin. You feel like a fresh heap of soft clay ready to be moved and constructed into anything Spencer’s hands can make of you. You feel utterly his.

You pull away slightly, uncomfortable from where his buckle was pressing against your belly. Pulling one hand away you trace it with a fingernail, Spencer and you both looking down at it between your bodies. Both noticing the drastically different attire.

A chuckle slips from your lips without thinking, “you branded me, look.”

Spencer’s thumb stops rubbing circles into your side, a shiver rolls down your spine. Daring to look up at him, you’re met with his dark eyes resembling magic 8 balls. An underlying fortune there too: Outlook Good.

Warm hands are soon softly gripping your cheeks as you’re being pulled into a burning kiss. His lips against yours after all this time, you moan immediately. Dry and soft and pillowy he’s swallowing you and pulling you flush against him, buckle be damned.

Water from your hairline is rolling over your cheeks and soaking the cuffs of Spencer’s sleeves. You haven’t pulled away far enough, but you can bet that the white button up he’s wearing is see through.

You’re freezing, the air from the bathroom is torturous, your skin on high alert. It’s making you push yourself onto Spencer so hard he stumbles back. He grabs your ass to steady you both for a moment and you bite harshly onto his bottom lip.

“God, my girl,” Spencer shivers against you when he feels your cold hands seek warmth under his shirt, “My perfect girl, I can’t believe how much I missed you.” He places a kiss onto the top of your head.

Speaking into his shoulder, “I missed you too, I feel crazy. Such a bad day.”

Both of his hands slowly trail up your waist till they meet the side of your boobs, you pull your lips in to conceal a whiny moan.

“I’m sorry I left you hanging earlier, did you finish?”

“N-no, went back to bed.”

He groans against your head. Placing his hands firmly on your hips to push you away slightly, taking a long good look at your naked frame. You feel exposed, embarrassed, and hot. Looking back at him, his perfect suit, deliciously tainted by your wet body print, chest visible through the wetness.

One of his thumbs wanders from your hip, back to the small indent of his buckle, rubbing it back and forth. This time you can’t help but whine.

The tension is tangible and painful. Your hands feel stuck to your sides before you snap out of it, pulling him close by the tie before you try to remove it with slippery hands.

Tight and hard to undo because of the wet nature of his garments frustrates you as you try to untangle Spencer from his tie. Him being clothed feels utterly unbearable. Through half-lidded eyes and a lazy smile, he watches you struggle with the tie.

“Here- honey, let me.” Spencer's removal of the tie, his fingers taking it off rather steadily compared to your shaking ones. Though the excitement zipping through him equals yours.

You latch onto him again, completely devoted to his presence, there’s no way in hell you’re letting that much distance and that much time separate you again. Tugging one side of the collar of his jacket you slip it off of him, he grabs your wrist.

“I’m here, I’m here,” A wet kiss to your begging mouth, “Get warm in that shower, you’re trembling. I’ll be there in 30 seconds. Can you wait that long for me?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Knew it. Good girl.”

With that, your stomach plummets and you spin on your heels back to the shower. It’s almost orgasmic in itself to find yourself under the hot water pressure again.

The door is almost completely steamed up now, you can hardly make Spencer out through it. You can only see movement and more of his tanned skin being exposed through a murky lens.

You can’t help it, greedy fingers come down to rub a few circles onto your clit as he finishes undressing and approaches you. The weight and stress of the nine days going straight to your clit to be absolved.

The door swings open, mercy.

You don’t feel polite enough to stop the rubbing, Spencer doesn’t seem to mind, mumbling “Jesus.” under his breath before meeting you with a kiss under the shower head.

His tongue rolls slowly against yours, making your toes curl in on themselves where you stand. Fingers picking up against yourself you moan into his open mouth, he pulls his face back to watch you.

A kiss against your throat makes you whimper and pull your head to the side for another one to be placed.

With Spencer’s rock hard dick against his stomach in your line of vision you wince while removing your hand from yourself, your hips instinctively kicking up to chase where your hand is now grabbing the base of Spencer.

He hums low, a bead of precum leaking out to be washed away by the stream. You glide your hand quickly, a desperate attempt to hear more of his moans vibrate against your skin.

“Slowly, baby-” He gasps as you circle his head.

You can’t let up, you barely feel in control of your body. Your head is spinning, you just can’t believe he’s with you.

Finally, a louder moan is cut from Spencer’s lungs as his hips slowly fuck against the fast pace of your fist. The tip of his dick barely ever encases in your hand as he does so, only able to feel the sensation of bottoming out when he’s inside you.

While you’re distracted, moaning brokenly into the suffocating air and pumping your hand against Spencer’s throbbing length, Spencer trails down to pet your clit again for you.

“Fuck, I missed you. I miss touching you like this, the way I can feel your heartbeat in it, baby-” He draws out the last word in disbelief. You felt the thrumming against your own fingertips earlier, so by now you’re sure it’s fluttering against his hand in an obscene way.

His middle finger circles your entrance. Your heart is in your throat.

“Please-” You sob out, being teased right now would end you forever.

“Mhm. I am.”

Taking his time feeling against your spongy walls where his thumb continues its circles against your bundle of nerves, your hand against his cock grows sloppy.

You squeeze your eyes shut, the muggy air making you deliciously light headed against his ministrations.

The second finger brings a delightful stretch, your head falls back against the wall as you whine. It’s been a while. You harness some sort of defiance that refuses to fuck yourself when he’s gone. The week of nothing stretching you out causing for a tight suction around his two fingers as he fucks into you.

“Tight, baby. It’s been too long. I left you too long, my poor thing.”

Though your hand slowed against his cock, you’re still trying to keep up simulation for him, not wanting to be a cruel tease when he’s working against you so perfectly. Spencer pulls that hand away eventually though. Without explanation, you know he was about to cum. His stomach always flexes and twitches when he’s using all his willpower to hold back.

“Need it. Need you-” You gasp against his lips. Totally overzealous. Spencer knows the way you’re tight around him, you’re going to need a third finger to take him without your common whiny complaints.

Teeth knocking together, he continues to tongue kiss you. He wants to expedite this process of feeling you around his cock just as much as you do, he just has more willpower than you. You can mumble and beg and plead till tears well up in your eyes. His stomach swirls with a burning passion because of it, but he has no capability to hurt you.

So you get another long finger inside you.

You let out a high pitched whimper- proving yourself wrong immediately. You needed to be stretched out this way. Damn his perceptiveness.

Your eyes roll back and your hips roll against the fingers rubbing against that sweet spot in you that shakes your thighs.

“You gotta keep yourself open for me when I’m gone, love.” He whispers brokenly into the thick air around you.

“Can’t. Only you.” You grumble back.

Spencer can’t get into the health benefits of taking care of yourself this way, especially in the long periods when he’s away. He can tell you’re bordering speechlessness and he’s dizzy enough to follow your technique of just letting out pretty moans.

A tiny trail of white essence pools around his fingers and he nearly keels over. You’re definitely ready to take him now. Seeing the ways he makes you feel good in the mess you make always drives him to the brink of insanity.

“Taking them out now. Gonna give you what you want. Feel ok?” He whispers into your ear before nibbling the lobe softly before parting to analyze your face.

“Feel reallyy good, Spence.” You smile a dazed grin at him, eyelids fluttering shut. Bringing the fingers that were just inside you to his lips he sucks them off and bites down on his fingers a bit too hard at the divine taste.

“Do you want to turn around for me, angel?”

Spencer’s trying to think of the best way to do this. His shower is nice, but isn’t the biggest shower in the world, he lives in an apartment in D.C. after all. He’s gonna have to fuck you from behind.

“Yeah, course.” You shift slowly, forearms out to brace yourself against the cold wall. Sticking your butt out playfully, he grips it softly, lines his cock against you.

“You feel okay? Ready?” He plants a kiss on your shoulder, you turn your head to make eye contact, you and Spencer usually can’t go too long without looking into each other's faces.

“Feel okay, really want you baby.”

Your head stays tilted to the side and your temple rests against the wall as he nudges his head against you.

Opening you up just enough, the stretch of all of him after a considerable amount of time has you keening.

The hand not gripping your waist moves up to cup one of your tits, rolling the sensitive nipple between his fingers.

“Fuck-” you whimper out meekly.

Letting him all the way in, he squeezes your breast for purchase. Looking at how he’s fully settled inside you, Spencer begins peppering soft kisses over your shoulder and spine, calming you and himself down.

Using the wall as leverage you slowly move yourself back against him, notifying Spencer you’re ready to be taken.

Gasping, he pulls almost all the way out to slowly fuck himself in again before settling on a good, unyielding pace. The feeling of your warm skin under his hands, warm cunt around his dick and warm water falling against his back is making him feel like he’s on a cloud. Completely blissed out having you in his arms again.

You groan (rather unladylike while getting fucked this way) and circle your hips against his thrusts. Spencer peers up at you, making sure your face isn’t holding any tension that could be read as something hurting. Instead you just open your mouth, ready for a finger.

Begrudgingly, he takes his hand off your breast to place his thumb down on your tongue, you moan happily and smile around him as your teeth scrape him lightly when he finds a delicious spot in you to pound at.

Overwhelmed, he has to look up at the ceiling. He’s been so pent up that letting his hips move in autopilot against you, the quiet sopping sound of you two together over the water falling, the base of his spine tingles.

“Still okay?”

He asks at your closed eyes, you gurgle out an uh-huh against his thumb, drool rolling down your chin to be forgotten in the shower.

“Kay- good.” He kisses your cheek.

Feeling his orgasm beginning to build, Spencer takes his hand from your waist to move to the front of your hips where your clit is exposed.

A trembling bite is met against his thumb as he uses three fingers against you in relentless circles. Keeps his hips going the same pace.

“Spence- you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Ha- trying to, doll.” His eyebrows furrow- trying to hold back long enough so he can fuck you through your orgasm, though the tone of your voice is making that increasingly hard.

Your head lolls back against his shoulders and with a few “ah, ah, ah’s” you’re coming hard all over him.

“Good, yeah. You’re okay, feel so good f’me.” He whimpers as you begin to pull his orgasm from him. His hips still against you at your deepest point as you let out a tiny mewl at the stimulation. Tongue pushing out his thumb to moan freely.

He rocks himself inside you while holding your hips up, making sure no slips occur in his bathroom today. Spencer keeps grinding and rubbing your clit until you’re both shaky with overstimulation, and till you mutter out a “can’t-”. He doesn't argue with that.

The shower water is beginning to chill as he watches his cum slide down your thighs into the basin. Spencer is rubbing your arms soothingly up and down till he pulls you against him.

“You wanna get out, pretty?”

“Cold.” You shudder.

Your legs feel like jelly when he’s wrapping a towel around your shoulders and ushering you into his bedroom. Another towel tied lowly on his waist he pulls an FBI hoodie over your raised arms and boxers up your legs. His own robe pulled off the door to drape over himself.

The tender attention you receive no matter what type of sex you and Spencer have always heats your cheeks with delight. A tender pressure is being massaged into your thighs with the lotion you brought over from your own apartment, and your eyes flutter shut as he mumbles something along the lines of “princess.. blah blah blah…” to you.

“Please never be away from me that long again. I really missed you, Spencer.”

All warmed up and soft from his pampering, you lie against his rising and falling chest.

“I know. I did too. It’s strange, I feel like when I’m with you, you act as my circadian rhythm. You ground me and keep me in check, I know when to wake up when you do. I sleep better, eat better. When we’re apart I struggle with that. You’re a resounding part of my day.”

You nuzzle against his chest, preening at his words.

“I love you so much.”

“My baby, I love you too.”

Squished together tightly in a way that’s breeding an almost uncomfortable warmth, you and Spencer fall asleep. Hearts mirroring each other in matching soft and measured beats, the 216 painful hours apart start healing with every drum in your chests.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #smut #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction

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cutehoons02 · 1 month ago

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My lollipop boy

*pairing: pervy bunny hybrid Sunghoon x popular girl

*trope: grumpy x sunshine

*synopsis: You and Sunghoon were not given the label of "girlfriend" and "boyfriend" so with him things were between a fork of toothpicks and cold live but passion and games in private. But what would happen when a rabbit hybrid gets its furrow and animal heat? For Sunghoon you were his cure but also his weakness with the arrival of heat was afraid to show his true animal nature and wanted at all costs to get away from you but would you be able to get away from him?

My lollipop girl <- I recommend that you read Part 1.

*tags: A lot of tension, Hoon is a rabbit hybrid and will have his own heat groove, dirty talk, degradation, jealousy, masturbation (m.f) unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl)node, Hoon is cynical but then will become sensitive, misunderstanding, smut, sulk, statement? happy ending, pet names (princess, slut) (good boy,hoon,hoonie,bunny) +18

12.2K🐇

(English is not my native language)

You walked into the economics classroom with your usual confidence, the short skirt brushing against your thighs, the sheer stockings, and the cardigan a little too tight, revealing your curves. The orange lollipop twirled between your lips, but it wasn’t the same. Someone kept stealing your beloved strawberry and cream lollipops, and you had a strong suspicion about who the culprit might be.

Your eyes immediately found Sunghoon, relaxed as always, sitting in the third row by the window. Your Sunghoon? Since that night of "studying" in your room, filled with economics exercises and much more physical practice, things had changed between you two. But there had been no declaration, no labels. You wanted him, clear and simple. But him? You weren’t sure.

You approached his desk with your usual bold smile and sat next to him, tilting your head. "No comment today? Did you suddenly become shy?"

Sunghoon sighed, not even turning to look at you. "Maybe I’m just trying to ignore you."

You spun the lollipop stick between your fingers. "Oh, so now you’re ignoring me? Strange, I thought you liked having my attention... or rather, having me all over you."

His ears twitched slightly, a sign you hit the right spot. Finally, he looked at you, his dark eyes filled with annoyance... or maybe something else. "You’re unbearable."

"And you aren't good at lying," you retorted, bringing the lollipop to your lips with exasperating slowness. "Too bad I know exactly how much you like me."

Sunghoon stiffened for a moment, then leaned slightly toward you, lowering his voice into a sharp whisper. "You know what I like? Silence. You should try being quiet for once."

Your smile widened. "Oh, but didn’t you like my mouth when it screamed your name or moaned while you sucked me or tied me to you?"

"Tsk." Sunghoon quickly turned away, his eyes fixed on the board as the professor walked in, momentarily interrupting your game. But you had already won: the slight redness in his ears told you everything you needed to know. Sunghoon was obsessed with you, and you with him.

After another hour of explanations and exercises, you stuffed your notes into your backpack with a sigh, cracking your tired fingers. The orange lollipop hung lazily between your lips as you took one last look at your page. Just one wrong exercise. Not bad. You stole a glance at Sunghoon, but he was still bent over his notebook, his pencil gliding over the paper with almost irritating precision. The sunset light filtered through the window, casting a warm glow on his dark hair. He was so immersed in his world, focused on writing formulas with his usual impassive expression. He hadn’t even noticed you were ready to leave. You shook your head with an amused smile. How much of a nerd can he be? You turned towards the door, ready to leave, when the professor's voice echoed in the room.

The professor entered the classroom, tapping the register a couple of times on the desk to get everyone's attention.

-In a few days, there will be the midterm exam,- he announced, scanning the students with his gaze. -I expect a lot from you. Over the weekend, I’ll send you some practice exams to complete, even in pairs, to help you prepare.-

As he spoke, you slightly turned your head, the orange lollipop sliding between your lips as you watched Sunghoon. He gripped the pencil between his fingers with an almost too-tight hold, but his face seemed impassive and focused as he listened to the professor.

And that was exactly what bothered you. The way he seemed perfectly capable of paying attention to others, of interacting normally with anyone except you. With you, though, in public, he appeared distant, almost cold, and he loved teasing you or driving you crazy with just a look. The thought that maybe he was embarrassed by you drove you mad. Or that he was afraid of showing any kind of feelings towards you. Yet, you knew it wasn’t like that when you were alone.

When his claws planted themselves on your skin with desire, when his tongue explored every inch of your body with greed when he sucked your skin to claim you from the smell that the other hybrids felt when he reversed his seed into your poor pussy.

So what was holding him back?

You drove away the thought and we focused on the exercises. When you finished, you had only one in four wrong. Not bad, maybe Sunghoon was not so bad as a tutor...

The professor walked past your desk and bent down slightly to check on your work. -Here,- he pointed to the spot where you had made a mistake, with a barely hinted smile.

Sunghoon turned slightly to listen, but his eyes didn’t stay fixed on the exercise.

He saw, he saw the professor’s gaze that never left your body, he saw how his eyes lingered on the curve of your chest, accentuated by the tight cardigan. How they slid down your legs, covered only by the thin, sheer stockings. How they stopped on your face, lingering on your lips, slightly swollen and tinted with the sugary gloss from your ever-present lollipop.

And his mind inevitably went back to a few nights ago.

When that face was pressed between his thighs, your lips were swollen with pleasure as you moaned his name, while he sucked and pumped his long fingers into you. When your tongue, which had been playing with the lollipop, traced sinful lines along his stomach. A strange unease twisted in his stomach.

-If you’d like, you can stop by my office this weekend,- the professor said, with a smile that was just a little too polite. -Many students do it to improve. I could help you prepare for the exam.-

You looked up, surprised by the offer, while Sunghoon felt his rabbit-like ears twitch slightly from irritation. His instincts screamed. That bastard was staring at you too much.

Without paying him much mind, you smiled politely. “Oh, thank you, professor, I’ll think about it.” -Do,- he replied.

-I might have some useful advice for you.-

Sunghoon gripped his pencil harder, feeling a slight crack in the wood as it splintered. He could tell with just one look when someone wanted something, and that man didn’t just want to teach you economics; he wanted to touch you, possess you—and that didn’t sit well with Sunghoon, because the only man who could touch you, kiss you, possess you, mark you, and tie you up was him.

You, of course, noticed his reaction and didn’t miss the chance to tease him. You leaned slightly toward him, your warm breath brushing against his skin.

“Oh? Is someone jealous?” you whispered with a mischievous smile. Sunghoon shot you a cold glance.

“Stop talking nonsense.” His voice was low, tense. But you knew. You knew very well that behind that impassive facade, his hybrid instincts were writhing. It was taunting him. Telling him someone else was trying to invade his territory, and you loved it.

-Y/n.- You stopped abruptly, turning just slightly. The professor was still seated at his desk, an overly smug smile on his lips. He motioned for you to come closer. With a shrug, you walked over slowly, swaying your hips just a bit. The professor’s gaze followed every movement, lingering a little too much on your legs. Sunghoon, who was about to turn the page, felt a shiver run down his spine. His bunny ears perked up imperceptibly. He didn’t need to hear the conversation to understand what was happening. -So, have you thought about my proposal?- the professor asked in a tone that was a bit too relaxed. -Private lessons would be really helpful for you. You could come to my office this weekend. You know, many students do it to improve.-

Sunghoon felt something tighten inside him. Is that bastard really trying? The pencil he was holding cracked under the pressure of his fingers. His hybrid instincts hit him like a hot blade in the stomach. He already knew what you were about to do. You were about to accept, just to make him jealous. Just to see how far you could push it before he exploded. And damn, it always worked. He shot up from his seat, determined to leave the classroom and ignore the scene, trying to suppress the animalistic part of him telling him to wipe that smug smile off the professor’s face. But then he felt a warm touch on his skin. Your hand. You grabbed his arm, your fingers tightening around his wrist in a firm grip. "Thanks, professor," you said with an almost innocent smile. "But I already have an excellent tutor as a study partner." The professor raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharpening. -Oh, really? Who’s that?- You didn’t look away, and Sunghoon felt your warmth spread along his arm as you gently pulled him toward you. "Him." The silence that fell in the classroom was almost deafening. Sunghoon froze, his mouth slightly agape in shock. Wait… what? His eyes turned to you, searching for any hint of teasing, but all he found was your usual cheeky grin. The professor stared at you for a few seconds, then turned his gaze to Sunghoon, as if sizing him up. -Him, huh?- Sunghoon clenched his jaw, feeling a sudden wave of pride mixed with frustration. Damn, this girl… She didn’t let anyone walk all over her. She didn’t need him to push the professor away, but she still dragged him into it. And not only that. She’d said he was the one who helped her understand the exercises. She’d said it was thanks to him that she was improving, and that feeling inside him—that strange, warm, irritating feeling—hit him all of a sudden.

Y/n was his? His tail shifted restlessly behind him, while his cheeks heated up slightly. No. Wait. They weren’t together. They’d never put a label on what was between them, yet the thought of someone else getting their hands on you made his jaw tighten. You were looking at him with a triumphant grin as if you’d just won a silent battle. Sunghoon sighed, looking away. "Do whatever you want," he muttered, but you didn’t miss the way the blush on his cheeks had become more noticeable. And you loved it.

As you left the classroom, Sunghoon walked ahead of you with his usual quick, determined pace. His long legs allowed him to put distance between you effortlessly, as if he were trying to escape from something… or someone. You bit your lip, watching his tail. It wouldn’t stop wagging. A nervous tic that betrayed his usual impassive demeanor. That little detail made you smile.

You quickened your pace, trying to catch up. "Hoon." No response. "Hoonie," you sing-songed in a sweeter tone, amused by the way his shoulders tensed. You were driving him crazy, and you knew it. "Are you jealous, by any chance?" you asked with feigned innocence, tilting your head.

He suddenly stopped, and you didn’t have time to slow down, bumping lightly into his chest. The scent of his skin, mixed with something more wild and instinctual, immediately enveloped you. The tension in his body was palpable. His bunny ears trembled, his jaw clenched.

"I’m losing my mind." His voice was low, rough. You looked up at him, batting your lashes with an innocent expression. "Because of the exam?" Sunghoon let out a quiet huff, as if he were struggling with himself.

Then, without a word, he grabbed your wrist. His touch was burning, his palm wrapping around your skin in a firm grip.

"Hoon, where are you taking me?" you giggled, but he kept walking, ignoring your playful tone.

He dragged you through the empty hallways, the last rays of sunset filtering through the windows. Every step he took was heavy, every breath deeper, more controlled. But he wouldn’t hold back for long.

He turned a corner and pushed open a door, pulling you into an empty classroom. Only a few streaks of sunlight illuminated the space, casting golden shadows on the floor. Sunghoon shut the door behind him with a sharp thud.

"Sit down."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So bossy today…" He didn’t reply. Running a hand through his hair, he messed it up, looking like a caged predator. His ears twitched nervously, and his tail flicked the air in slow, agitated swipes.

You smiled. Leaning your elbows on the table, you watched him with amusement, letting the lollipop slide lazily between your lips. "If you wanted to be alone with me, you could’ve just asked, you know?"

Sunghoon froze. His dark eyes locked onto yours, nostrils flaring slightly. Three steps, and he was right in front of you. His large hands cupped your face with a firmness that made you hold your breath. He forced you to look at him. His pupils were blown wide, his breathing heavier.

"I can’t take it anymore." His voice was deeper, more animalistic. His nails barely grazed your skin, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. He was fighting his instincts, battling something restless inside him.

"First, it was just the guys at school, and that already drove me insane. But now, forty-year-olds too?" His tail flicked again.

"You think it’s funny to provoke me like this?" he hissed, his lips almost brushing yours as he spoke. You smiled, running your thumbs over his knuckles. "It’s cute seeing you jealous, you know?"

Sunghoon let out a low growl, his ears flattening back. His whole body vibrated with tension. He was giving you control, even though he didn’t want to and you knew it.

"Hoon," you whispered softly, your fingers gliding down to his wrist, squeezing just slightly. "Do you need a reminder of who I belong to?"

He held his breath. His eyes darkened with something deeper, something raw. He swallowed hard, his body instinctively moving even closer to yours. Then, he nodded, his tail wagged faster. You smirked. "Good answer."

The tension in the air was dense, charged with something primordial. Sunghoon was stiff in your hands, his breathing quickened as his fingers traced paths under your cardigan, touching you with a delicacy that contrasted with his firm grip on your thighs. But you weren't going to let him take control. You lured him to you, resting his lips on his, kissing him with the confidence of those who knew exactly what he wanted. Sunghoon grunted between the kiss, his tongue explored yours with growing hunger. "Open your legs," he whispered against your lips, his voice hoarse and authoritarian.

A shudder ran through your back, but not for the command—for the idea of completely turning the situation around. And yet, you indulged him. You opened up for him, giving him the place between your legs as you continued to kiss each other, savoring each other with slowness and despair at the same time. His lips moved along your jaw, sucking and licking fervently, then went down to your neck. The warmth of his mouth made you moan softly, and his grip on your thighs tightened. He was too sure of himself it was time to put him back in his place. You smiled between a heavy breath and, with a firm gesture, you took off his sweatshirt, then his shirt.

His chest twitched when your fingers slid over his candid skin, the contrast with the dark shadows of the sunset made him almost ethereal. You kissed him slowly, walking along the line of his sternum with your tongue. "You are beautiful, Hoonie," you whispered against his skin, feeling his abdomen quivering under your lips. Sunghoon clenched his teeth, but could not hold back a gasp when your hands stroked his hips. "Oh? Did I just hear you stutter?" you looked up, the mischievous smile that you knew him all too well painted on your lips. Redness spread to the cheeks, the ears bent back. "Shut up." You laughed softly, running a finger along his chest, tracing lazy circles around his nipples. "Come on, Hoonie, you're so cute when you lose control."

Your voice was a sweet poison, you looked at him with an amused air as he desperately tried to maintain some dignity. Another kiss, this time lower. Sunghoon stiffened when your lips came close to his navel, his tail convulsively moved behind him. "P-princess, we are in public." You looked up, tilting your head with an all too innocent air. "It was you who brought me into this room, not me," you reminded him, the sweet but poisonous tone Sunghoon swallowed heavily.

Your fingers slid down the waistband of his pants, playing with the zipper with maddening slowness. "What is it, Hoon? Are you nervous?" He bit his lip, avoiding your gaze, a little disaster. The cynical and distant nerd, the one who always looked at you with superiority, with dismissive sarcasm, was now nothing more than a guy trembling under your touch. A loser you could have done anything to, Sunghoon's breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling with force as you looked down on him with a smug smile. He seemed completely at the mercy of you, your hands, your lips, your poisonously sweet voice.

"Oh, Hoonie," you sighed, fingers playing with the zipper of his jeans. "You're so nervous now, and yet a little while ago you were trying to command me. What happened to all that security, huh?" He swallowed, the blush on his cheeks noticeable even in the shadow of the sunset. His eyes drooped for a moment, avoiding your gaze as if he were ashamed, but his body betrayed him: his tail flinched non-stop, his ears bent back, and the heat he emanated was stronger and stronger. You laughed quietly.

"You're a mess, Sunghoon," you whispered, your mouth barely touching his navel. "All cold and cynical in public… but look how you shrink when you're with me." Sunghoon bit his lip, holding back a little groan when your fingernails grazed the sensitive skin of his side. "Y-n /princess …" his voice trembled slightly, and this made you smile even more. "What is it? Does the truth bother you?" you tilted your head, your hands still on his belt. "Should I remind you who's in charge right now between the two of us?"

Sunghoon blinked, trying to recover, but his instincts were betraying him, a shiver ran through him, his breathing became heavier, and something inside him was changing. It was a creeping warmth, something primal that moved inside his chest, in his belly, and made him feel unstable, and vulnerable. He had always been so rational, so controlled, but now, with you looking at him with those amused eyes, with your voice humiliating him without the slightest effort… He was completely at the mercy of you and the worst was that he liked it.

"Look how you're shaking," you whispered, your fingers grazed the skin of his abdomen, tracing slow circles on his warm skin. "You're not really used to being under, huh, Sunghoon?" He clenched his fists to his sides, and his bunny ears drooped even more it was humiliating how much his body reacted to you so easily and you weren't letting him get away. Your mouth slowly rose up along his chest, depositing barely hinted kisses, letting your warm breath tickle his skin. "But you know what I like best? "you whispered against his ear, gently nibbling at his lobe. " That for all your tough-guy attitude, in the end you're just a desperate bunny who can't wait to be touched, to be commanded, and to simply be a bunny who pretends to be cold and a nice guy but who has repressed sexual instincts."

Sunghoon shuddered violently. His tail snapped behind him, his breath snapped and that heat inside him … was getting unbearable. And he had only one, the only solution. You, The tension in the room was palpable. The sunset cast long shadows on the floor, the golden light refracted on Sunghoon's bare skin, accentuating his every line, and every muscle contraction as he desperately tried to maintain a modicum of control over himself. But it was not easy. Not with you in front of him, with that mischievous smirk on his lips, with your light but devastating touch that made him tremble. You could feel its length contracted under the fabric of the boxer His tail moved erratically behind him, an obvious sign of the turmoil within himself.

You bit your lip, an amused look as you ran your fingers down the taut abdomen, then further down, barely touching the fabric that concealed her obvious excitement. "Not even in your worst dirty dreams will you think of tying me in a shabby university room, huh, bunny?"

you provoked him, letting the tip of your finger trace the shape of his erection over the stretched tissue. Sunghoon clenched his jaw, his gaze grew darker. "Stop it,Y/n," he growled, his tone authoritarian, but the effect was almost undone by the way his hips quivered at your touch. You laughed quietly, amused by her desperate struggle against herself. "Oh, so now you're being tough?" you tilted your head, slowly licking your lips while, without warning, lowering his boxer.

Its length bounced against his sculpted abdomen, and for a moment Sunghoon exhaled sharply, his hands clasping to the sides of the table behind him. His eyes shone with a mixture of defiance and despair. "You're a nightmare, you know?" he mumbled, trying to recover, but his voice was more hoarse, more hungry. You smiled, slowly sliding a finger along her length, observing with satisfaction the way her abs contracted under your touch. "A nightmare? And yet you are the one moaning for me already," you whispered in his ear, pressing your hand on his hot, pulsating skin. Sunghoon grunted, closing his eyes for a second. "You're over-dressed," he growled, his voice charged with frustration. "I want to hear you." The authoritarian tone made you smile even more. "Oh? And since when do you have the right to order something from me?" you asked him, but still, with maddening slowness, you took off your cardigan and then your blouse, leaving only your lace bralette on. Sunghoon held his breath. His eyes glided greedily over you, the blush on his cheeks became more intense as his tail trembled. "You are beautiful," he confessed, almost unwillingly, as if those words had escaped him. You laughed quietly. "I know." Then, with an almost cruel sweetness, you bent down and brushed the tip of its length with a light, almost innocent kiss. Sunghoon gasped, his hands clenched to the edges of the table as if it were the only thing keeping him anchored to reality. "Princess— " his voice broke when your hand squeezed slightly around him, running your thumb over the already damp tip of pearly liquid. "What was that sound, Hoonie?" you provoked him, the tone sweet and poisonous. "It just sounded like a groan…" He clenched his teeth, but his body betrayed him. His breath had become heavier, his gaze was lost between desire and humiliation. "I want to fill you," he confessed in a desperate whisper, his voice loaded with need, his animal instincts out of control. "Want—" Slap. Not strong, just a small blow on his inner thigh, enough to make him snap open his eyes and look at you with surprise. "Oh, my bunny," you sighed with a satisfied smile. "I already told you, didn't I? You'll fill me up and knot me only in my room … or yours."

Sunghoon nodded mechanically … until he processed the last part of the sentence. "No," he growled, the blush on his cheeks noticeable. You raised an eyebrow. "No?" "Not in my room." You bit your lip to hold back a laugh. "Why? Too ashamed to take me there? Or are you afraid I'll find out your dirty little secrets, Hoonie? Or are you afraid that I will invade your hybrid space?" Sunghoon grunted, looking at you with hatred and desire at the same time.

You are his damnation, you are his darkest need and, despite everything, you are the only one who could ever dominate him like this. You smiled with your usual mischievous look, your fingers playing with him almost absent-mindedly as if everything you were doing was a recent pastime. But Sunghoon could not pretend that for him it was the same. His breathing was heavy, his jaw clenched as he desperately tried to maintain control.

"Do you want to come, Hoonie?" you whispered, the tone sweet and poisonous. He nodded without even thinking, his bunny ears bent back, the blush on his cheeks now evident. You laughed slowly, biting your lip to hold back the satisfaction. "Then answer my economics questions." Sunghoon blinked, for a moment he looked confused. "C-what?" "I told you." Your grip just got tighter on his pinkish, veiny cock, making him gasp and leaving a choked moan on his lips. "If you want some relief, prove to me that you're really that nerd pretending to be in class." He glanced at you full of frustration, but his tail kept shaking behind him. "You are-you are a nightmare." "I know," you laughed, then, without giving him time to retort, you looked at him with a defiant smile. "So … let's get started. What is the formula for calculating the total profit?" Sunghoon bit the inside of his cheek, trying to concentrate. "R - total revenues minus total costs." A light kiss on his hot skin was his reward, but soon after you tightened your grip, making him quiver, and pumped his cock into your hands to feel him gritting his teeth from pleasure but also from annoyance. "good boy, bunny," he whispered against his abdomen.

"Don't call me that," he growled, but his tone lacked mordant, too distracted by the feeling of your hands on him. "Mmh, we'll see," you laughed. "Second question: what is the break-even point?" Sunghoon clung to the edge of the table, his eyes trying to stay shiny. "It's - it's the point where total revenues and total costs equalize, so there's no profit or loss." Another kiss on his cock, this time slower, as you run your tongue over his skin and twirled your tongue in his cock and then sucked it lightly, leaving a warm, moist trail that made him arch his back. "baby… " he growled, his hand clasped around your side as if he wanted to stop you, but at the same time did not dare. You looked at him with bright eyes. "Third question, Hooni" He swallowed, wheezing. "I'm going to" "Not yet." You threw a dangerous look at him, then, unhurriedly, unfastened your bralette, letting the cloth fall to the ground without any hesitation. Sunghoon froze, his gaze glued to you, as your swollen breasts ribbed and then laughed softly, in that low, slightly mocking tone he used when trying to regain control.

"Are you trying to distract me?" You tilted your head with a sweet smile. "Distract you? But if you're the one moaning like a desperate bunny in heat for my touch." The blush on his cheeks became even more intense, but instead of fighting back, he did something you didn't expect. His hands grabbed you by the hips more firmly and, before you could react, you found yourself lying on the bench with him on top of you and his cock ribbing slightly. "Keep your breasts slightly tight I want to fuck you those beautiful tits," said Sunghoon sighing softly, you looked at him with your eyes drooping and cupped your breasts and held him slightly open and Hoon's eyes were ajar as he slid his huge cock between your breasts, his breath trembling as the heat increased. "Who is the desperate one now?" he whispered with a defiant grin, the same one that drove you crazy in class when he pretended to be unattainable. You looked up, slowly licking your lips. "Oh, so you want to lead now, Hoonie?"

He grunted quietly, his control now thin as a silk thread. In the classroom, you could hear only your moans and choked breaths and the slimy noise of his cock rubbing around your breasts, you had never seen this version of Hoon and after a couple of thrusts as he touched your breasts with one hand and the other leaned to slide his cock between your breasts with a broken breath, he let go completely, his hands trembled as he clutched you, his body crossed with chills as pleasure overwhelmed him. A slimy substance of sperm began to trickle around your breasts until it reached your navel and you groaned at the sight you were full of filaments of cum; for a moment, the only sound in the room was his heavy breathing, the frantic beating of his heart against your chest. But then, as he tried to recover, something inside him became agitated. It was a deep warmth, something visceral and it hadn't passed yet. He stiffened slightly, his ears moved restlessly, and his tail waved uncontrollably. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"All right, Hoonie? You still seem agitated." He swallowed, the redness did not leave his face. "…I don't know," he admitted softly. For the first time, there was a veil of uncertainty in his expression. As if something was changing inside him. And the fear of what would come next began to make its way into his mind.

Sunghoon dressed in haste, his body still tense, his hands moving in a nervous rush as he buttoned up the jeans. His breathing was heavy, his face still reddened, yet his eyes had veiled with something darker. He approached you in silence, took you by the wrists with a delicacy that you did not expect, and with quick and precise gestures began to clothe you. The cardigan on the shoulders, the blouse buttons closed with almost obsessive care, the fingers that barely lingered on your skin as if he wanted to memorize every detail before…leaving.

It was weird, after everything that had happened between you, after the way he had let himself go—which he never did now seemed to want to erase all traces of that moment. And you couldn't understand it. When he turned to leave, you grabbed him by the wrist. The abnormal heat of his skin made you wince.

"Sunghoon." He froze but did not turn around. "Are you okay?" you asked him, trying to cross his gaze. His breath grew deeper for a moment. Then, without too much emphasis, he broke free from your grip with a slow but firm movement. "I'm fine," he replied flatly. You watched him carefully. "No, you are not." He finally turned around, his rabbit ears slightly lowered, a sign that something was wrong inside him. But his face… his face was deadpan. There was no trace of the vulnerability you had seen just before, of the guy you had in your hands and that you had brought to the limit. Just the usual Sunghoon: cynical, distant. "You wouldn't understand," he said in a low voice. You stiffen. "And why not?" "Because you are only a human." He said it with a coldness that struck you like a slap. You stared at him, your arms lowering at your sides. "So what?" "So you shouldn't be here," he continued, his voice unhesitatingly. "What happened… was a mistake." His words hit you right in the stomach, making you short of breath for a second.

A mistake? Your throat tightened. You looked him straight in the eye, looking for any sign that he was lying. Any little hesitation, any crack in his ice mask. But there was nothing, only detachment, only coldness. "Sunghoon," you muttered, trying to figure out what the hell was going through his mind. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair in an almost frustrated gesture. "A hybrid like me needs a true companion. Not a human who likes to tease him." His every word was a blade that sank into your chest. You felt like an idiot, you felt used, and the anger began to boil inside you. "Bullshit," you hissed, stepping towards him. Sunghoon did not move. "Jungwon and Jake stayed with human girls! I don't think they're getting all this fucking paranoid!" "They're not rabbits," he replied, his tone frosty. This time you were the one blocking, Sunghoon looked down for a second, then raised him with an expression that gave you chills. He was calm, too calm. "You don't understand, Y/n, and you will never understand." Your jaw clenched if he wanted to play that game, then you would too. You straightened, crossing your arms.

"So what do you want to do, Sunghoon? Escape?" He didn't answer right away. He looked at you for a few seconds, then tilted his head slightly. "Exactly." And with that word, without another hesitation, he turned and left the room. Leaving you there, with your heart beating painfully in your chest and the feeling that you have been pushed out of her world with a brutality you did not expect.

The chair next to yours was empty.

Again.

It had been over a week since Sunghoon had decided to cut you out of his life, and his silence was eating away at you more than you ever wanted to admit. He didn’t spare you a glance, not a nod, not even the slightest hesitation in his movements when he walked past you as if you were just another stranger.

And it was driving you insane. But not just with anger—also with sadness.

You had never cried over a boy. Never. And yet, there was a weight in your chest that wouldn’t go away, a lump in your throat that grew every time you saw him ignoring you with that impassive expression of his.

And you were tired of feeling this way.

That’s why, when you went to the convenience store to buy lollipops and found all your favorite flavors—strawberries and cream, no exceptions—gone, a sharp pang of irritation shot through you.

Because you knew exactly who had been buying them up until now, who had taken the trouble to make them disappear just to see you annoyed, to watch you bite your lip in frustration while you sucked on the orange or watermelon ones with a pout.

Sunghoon.

Bastard.

If he wanted to ignore you, if he wanted to shut you out, then why did he keep creeping into your mind? Why did he keep reminding you that beneath that cold, cynical mask of his, he was still the boy who loved to tease you, the one who had made you his so many times, the one who had let himself go in your hands with a vulnerability he had never shown anyone else?

You hated him.

You hated him because, despite everything, your heart still beat faster whenever you saw him.

The economics exam had gone great.

A beautiful 88 stood next to your name on the results board, and even though you would have preferred a higher score, you knew you had Sunghoon to thank. He was an exceptional tutor—you knew that well—and his method had worked perfectly.

Then, your gaze drifted upward to the highest grade in the class.

100. And next to that number, as always, was his name. Sunghoon Park.

No surprise there—he had always been perfect in his subjects, always meticulous, always one step ahead of everyone.

And yet, when you turned to look for him in the crowd, you didn’t find him. Strange. Sunghoon was always the first to check the exam results, the first to line up at the board, the first to gauge the class’s performance.

But that morning, his spot remained empty, and for the first time, an unsettling feeling settled in your stomach.

Sunghoon hadn’t shown up for two whole weeks—not that you were counting the days. Or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. But it was impossible not to notice. His desk was always empty, his presence had become an overwhelming absence, and you… you were worried.

Not that you would ever admit it, not after everything he had said to you. If he wanted to shut you out of his life, then you would do the same.

Or at least, you would try.

You were about to leave the classroom when the professor gestured for you to come closer.

-Congratulations on the test, Y/N. Excellent work.-

You smiled, though the weight of your thoughts made it hard to feel genuinely happy. “Thank you, professor.”

Then, you saw him pull out another sheet—the exam results of Sunghoon.

-Have you seen him lately?- the professor asked, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

Your heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t tell the truth, couldn’t admit that Sunghoon had been avoiding you like the plague and that you had no idea what had happened to him.

So, you lied.

“He’s sick,” you said as naturally as possible. “A bad flu… high fever, nausea, stomach issues…” You were making up the worst excuses, but it didn’t matter.

The professor nodded. -I see. Could you give him his test when you see him?-

Your eyes widened for a moment. Did it really have to be you? You hesitated, then slowly nodded. “Of course…”

You picked up the paper with a frown. His name was written at the top in that perfect handwriting of his—the same handwriting that had helped you understand difficult concepts, the one you knew so well. And it was while staring at his test that you noticed an orange-haired figure nearby.

Sunoo. You walked over and greeted him in your usual cheerful tone, even though he looked slightly uneasy.

“Hey, Sunoo! Do you know where Sunghoon is?”

His expression turned cautious. ‘He’s… sick.’

The exact same response you had given the professor, but something in his tone was off.

You tilted your head. “Sick how? Is it just the flu?”

Sunoo hesitated, biting his lip before letting out a sigh. ‘You should take it to him yourself.’

Your eyes widened. “What? Why?”

‘Because it’s better if you see him in person.’

His words only confused you further. What was going on with Sunghoon? And why was Sunoo being so evasive?

But by now, you knew only one thing—you had to go see him.

You were lying on your bed, a strawberries-and-cream lollipop between your lips, your phone open to your chat with Sunghoon. You had typed and deleted your message at least ten times.

You had his economics test, and despite the way he had shut you out of his life, you couldn’t stop worrying. You bit your lip, unsure whether to send something straightforward or teasing. In the end, with an exasperated sigh, you typed:

“Hey, Park Sunghoon (🐇👿), I have your economics test. Want me to bring it over?”

You hit send before you could change your mind. Your phone vibrated almost immediately.

Sunghoon (🐇👿):

“NO.”

You froze, staring at the screen in disbelief. No? Just no?

That test had a perfect score—just as you’d expected from him—and he didn’t even care to get it back? His stubbornness and cold demeanor drove you insane, as if nothing had happened the last time you saw each other.

Clutching the paper in your hand, you marched out of your room and headed straight for his door. You didn’t need his permission.

Once there, you lowered your gaze and slid the test under the small gap beneath the door, along with a little handwritten note:

“Congrats on the 100, genius. Too busy playing sick to brag about it? Or has the little bunny decided to become a hermit? What a waste of beauty and brains. Oh, by the way, be careful… if you keep hiding in there, you might end up even paler than you already are. Go get some air, idiot.”

You straightened up, satisfied, ready to turn and head back to your room—when your phone vibrated again.

Sunghoon (🐇👿):

“Go away. You stink.”

You stopped in your tracks. You stink?

That damn rabbit! Your eyes widened, and you felt the blood in your veins boil. You clenched your phone, gritting your teeth.

If he wanted to play dirty, fine.

Leaning closer to the door, you lowered your voice into a venomous whisper, sure he would hear you.

“Funny. Last time you sniffed me, you seemed pretty into my scent…”

You slipped the note under the door and crossed your arms, waiting for his reaction.

A few seconds later, your phone buzzed.

Sunghoon (🐇👿):

“Maybe I need a new nose.”

You huffed, biting your lip to hold back a smile. Even if he was being cold and distant, at least he was responding. That meant you weren’t completely irrelevant to him.

Deciding to push further, you let a bit of your concern slip through—though, of course, disguised as teasing.

“Park Sunghoon, are you actually sick, or are you just being an emo bunny?”

Another message came almost instantly.

Sunghoon (🐇👿):

“No.”

No? You narrowed your eyes. That was the second time he had answered like that, and this time, it didn’t seem like he was just trying to push you away.

Without thinking, you called his number. The dial tone rang once, twice—then he picked up.

Your heart skipped a beat.

It had been two weeks since you’d last heard his voice.

“What do you want, Y/N?” His voice was hoarse, slightly strained.

“What do I want? What do I want? You’ve been missing for two weeks, and the only thing you can say to me is ‘what do you want’?” You huffed, irritated—but deep down, relief washed over you at the sound of him actually speaking to you.

From the other end of the line, you heard the rustling of blankets and a sigh.

“Tsk. You’re always so annoying.” You smiled slightly.

“And you’re always an idiot.” A moment of silence. Then, a sudden shift, a barely audible inhale.

“Y/N, leave.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Excuse me? Who do you think you are to give me orders?”

“I’m telling you to get away from my door.”

“And why would I do that?”

Another pause. Then his voice dropped, almost as if speaking was difficult for him.

“Because I can smell you too much.”

You froze. Then, a sly smile crept onto your lips.

“Oh?” Sunghoon let out a sharp exhale on the other end of the line, already sensing where this was going.

“Don’t start.”

“Too late.” You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle. “Sunghoon… are you in heat?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

You could practically see him on the other side of the phone—jaw clenched, ears twitching slightly with embarrassment and irritation.

“None of your business.”

You burst out laughing, delighted.

“Oh my god, I hit the mark! So it’s true!”

“Y/N—”

“You know, I did some research… and your behavior matches exactly with that of a bunny in heat.”

There was a dull thud, like he had just slammed his head against his pillow or mattress in frustration.

“Stop reading those ridiculous blogs and go study economics or something useful instead of wasting your time on stupid theories about rabbits.”

“Oh, so they’re stupid theories? Then why are you still avoiding leaving your room?”

The prolonged silence on the other end was all the confirmation you needed.

Sunghoon was in trouble. And no matter how much he wanted to hide it, you had figured it out.

The line crackled slightly before he spoke again.

“What the hell do you want now?” His voice was flat, cold—but beneath that forced composure, there was something else. Something sharp, on the verge of breaking.

You bit your lip, the mischievous smile already playing on your mouth.

“You know, today I read an interesting blog about hybrids in heat.”

From the other side of the door, inside his room, you heard the faintest shift in his breathing.

“Tsk. You shouldn’t stick your nose into things like that.”

“Oh, but it was so fascinating,” you continued, letting your voice drop just slightly, slipping into a whisper almost too intimate. “They talked about how hybrids in heat become… obsessed. How their bodies burn up, how the knot—”

“Y/N.” His tone was a warning, but the fact that he hadn’t hung up said everything.

“How they want to fill their partner over and over, even if they can’t actually breed her.” You leaned against his door, imagining him on the other side, probably running a hand through his hair, struggling to maintain control. “How it’s not just physical desire but mental. The need to mark, to claim, even when they know it’s impossible.”

The silence that followed was thick, electric. Then, a slow, prolonged sigh.

“You’re playing with something you can’t control.” Your pulse quickened, your lips curving upward.

“And what if I don’t want to control it?”

He let out a low chuckle, a dark sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Oh, baby…” he took a moment before continuing, his voice now hoarse, impatient. “If you were in here with me, I wouldn’t let you go until your body recognized who it belongs to.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling the heat spread through your chest, your stomach, and lower.

“You’re all talk, Sunghoon,” you teased, your voice dropping to a whisper. From the other side of the door, you heard a dull thud, as if he’d hit something.

“Open this door and we’ll see who’s just talking.” The phone call ended with a sharp click.

And you stood there, your heart pounding too fast, your breath unsteady.

You knew that if you opened that door, he would keep every single promise.

You knocked, your fist light but insistent against the wood.

“Sunghoon, open up.” Your voice was low, almost a whisper, but you knew his hybrid ears would pick up every tiny vibration.

A deep breath from the other side, then his response—hoarse, tense.

“If you come in here, your scent will fill my entire territory. And I won’t be able to control myself.”

You bit your lip, your chest tightening at his confession.

“I miss you,” you admitted. “I want you. All of you. Your human side… and your hybrid side.”

A tense silence, charged. Then a low chuckle.

“You’re truly reckless.” But the soft click of the lock made you hold your breath.

The door creaked open slightly—just enough for you to catch a glimpse of Sunghoon. And the sight stole the air from your lungs.

He was leaning against the doorframe, his breathing heavy. His damp hair fell messily over his forehead, a few strands sticking to his flushed skin. His bare chest rose and fell unevenly, his biceps flexing as he gripped the door, his toned abs glistening slightly with sweat. His rabbit ears were pinned back, his face flushed, and behind him, his tail twitched restlessly, agitated, unsettled.

A shiver ran down your spine. Staring at you with dark eyes, Sunghoon let out a slow, resigned sigh.

“Fuck…”

Then, in an instant, he shoved you against the wall.

The door slammed shut with a thud, his heated body pressing into yours. His breath was everywhere—on your skin, in your neck, inside your thoughts. He inhaled slowly, his nose brushing along the curve of your shoulder, then trailing up the line of your jaw, stopping at the hollow of your neck.

A shiver crawled up your spine as you felt his lips ghost over your skin—light, reverent.

And then you felt it a tremor in his breath, the faintest hitch.

A tear—warm, silent—slipped down his cheek as he buried his face into your skin, as if he wanted to melt into you.

“I missed you,” he murmured between kisses, his lips tracing a burning path along your skin. “You have no idea how much.”

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you even closer against him.

“You’ve been bad, you know that?” His voice dropped an octave, sending another shiver through you. “Leaving me like that… with your scent everywhere, but without you.”

With every word, every touch, your breath grew more uneven. Then a gasp escaped you when his lips latched onto your skin with more force, leaving a mark.

A smirk tugged at his lips.

“Oh, I missed that sound so much.” You let out a soft giggle, your hands reaching up to his soft ears, tugging them gently to make him lift his gaze to you.

“You’re a mess,” you whispered, your thumbs stroking the base of his ears, Sunghoon scoffed, but his dark eyes burned with desire.

“And whose fault is that, huh?” His grip tightened, his body shifting slightly against yours. A shudder ran through you as you felt his heat rubbing against you, the thin fabric between you both an increasingly frustrating obstacle. A whimper slipped past your lips, and Sunghoon wasted no time leaning into your ear to whisper:

“You’re warm.”

“You’re burning,” you answered, your voice trembling.

A sharp breath left his lips, his eyes half-lidded as he bit the inside of his cheek.

“You know what a hybrid in heat does, don’t you?” His hand slid along your back, pulling you impossibly closer. “I’ve spent weeks losing my mind, with only one thought in my head.”

His gaze was feverish, torn between wanting to tease you and the sheer desire burning through him.

“I thought about you every single day,” he confessed, his voice low, strained. “About how I wanted to hold you again. About how I wanted to kiss you in front of everyone so no one would ever dare to look at you like they could have you.”

He bit down gently on your earlobe, his voice a husky vibration against your skin.

“About how much I want to fill you up.” A heavy breath. “Stuff you full of me, mark you, make you understand that your place is right here—with me.”

His eyes were dark, feverish, his breathing heavy as he studied you, as if trying to figure out if you were joking.

But you weren’t. “You can do anything to me, Sunghoon,” you whispered, your heart hammering in your chest. “You can fill me. You can love me. You can use me… you can worship me.”

For a moment—just one—his mask seemed to crack. But then Sunghoon let out a low, sharp laugh, tilting his head slightly.

“You’re insane.” His tone was cold, disdainful. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” Instead of answering, you reached out and tugged on his ears, forcing him to lower his head toward you.

“You’re the one who doesn’t understand anything.” And before he could respond, you kissed him. The kiss was immediately chaotic, desperate, filled with pent-up tension. Your tongues tangled without grace, too hungry to care about making it perfect. Sunghoon groaned against your lips, his hands gripping your hips too tightly, as if he were trying to restrain himself. But then he lifted you effortlessly, making your head spin, and turned toward the bed.

“You’re invading my territory, you know that?” His tone was still amused, but with a subtle hint of warning beneath it.

You bit your lip, your fingertips brushing the nape of his neck.

“Strange…” you whispered. “Because you’ve been invading mine for weeks.”

His nostrils flared slightly, his pupils dilated just a bit, and behind him, his tail twitched nonstop.

He dropped you onto the mattress in one fluid motion, his hands immediately slipping to the waistband of your jeans. Then, without breaking eye contact, he pulled them down in a slow, exasperating motion.

A low whistle escaped his lips as the fabric pooled on the floor.

“Oh, would you look at that,” he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips as his fingers grazed the elastic of your white panties. “Such a good girl.”

His tone was venomously sweet, the cynicism in his gaze burning hot enough to make your blood boil.

“Innocent little princess…” He shook his head, clicking his tongue.

“Do you know what happens to good girls who play with fire?” He lowered his face just slightly, his warm breath fanning over your skin.

“I ruin them.” You laughed—right until you felt his mouth press small kisses and love bites along your thighs.

You slipped a finger under his chin, making him look up at you with curiosity.

“I want a lollipop,” you said in an innocent tone. Sunghoon looked at you, slightly confused, but then he stood up, walked to his desk, and pulled out a strawberry-and-cream lollipop from the drawer. He brought it to your lips, trying to place it in your mouth. But you shook your head.

“I want you to suck it and after that you will eat my pussy with the taste of lollipop” he laughed and said no with his head because you were seriously crazy but he adored you. Sunghoon let the lollipop slip out of his mouth with a soft sound, his tongue barely passing over his lips as if to savor its last remaining sugar. Then he looked down at you, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "You're a little bit of a temptation, aren't you?"

his voice was low, almost a satisfied growl. "First you provoke me, then you play the good girl who asks for treats..." He tilted his head, the cynical grin spreading over his lips. "I wonder how many more tantrums you'll have once I really start touching you."

You bit your lip, your heart pounding in your chest. "So what are you waiting for?" Sunghoon laughed softly, shaking his head.

“You're impatient." Then, without warning, he lowered the lollipop on your skin, drawing a sugary line that started from the lower abdomen until it touched your most sensitive center. You stiffened under that unusual contact, a shiver running down your back.

Sunghoon watched you, his amused smile as his warm breath grazed the spot where the sweet had melted on your skin. "And now..." His voice was just a whisper before his lips lowered on you, savoring you as if you were the finest confectionery. A groan involuntarily eluded you, and you felt his smile against your skin. "Hm," he muttered in a contented tone, the sound almost an animalistic purr. "You know about sugar, but much better." His tail moved relentlessly behind him, a sign of his feverish state, of his desire to get completely lost in you.

"And now, baby ..." His gaze was a promise as she bent over you again. "Let's see how long you can hold out before you beg me."

His lips went down the inside of your thighs, leaving open, moist kisses, followed by small bites that made you jerk. Every time you moaned, Sunghoon laughed softly against your skin, the sound low and satisfied.

"You like to be teased, don't you?" his voice was a sharp whisper. "Does it excite you so much that this is enough for you to get completely wet?"

You bit your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of an answer. But then his fingers slipped against you, finding you already all too ready, and Sunghoon growled softly, the sound instinctive, animalistic. "You're tremendous," he hissed, his tone cynical.

"You always make yourself look so cheeky, and yet look how you are reduced to me." You gave him a defiant look, a heavy breath.

“So what? Aren't you the one who goes crazy about my smell?" Sunghoon froze for a moment, then laughed, his tail moving even more frantically.

"What a naughty mouth..." And without warning, he pushed a finger inside you, the slow but inexorable gesture. A groan eluded you before you could stop it, and Sunghoon bit his lip, his eyes dark and feverish.

"What was this, uh?"He looked at you with false innocence, then pushed deeper, his wrist moving with a torturing rhythm. "Weren't you the one who could respond in tone?" You tried to fight back, but the second finger was added to the first, and the sound that came out of your lips was more a muffled cry. His fingers inside you pumped inside your poor cunt now at the mercy of the desire not to be filled by his fingers but by his cock and Sunghoon smiled, satisfied.

"Oh, that's what I like the most." He continued to move, the pace increasing, while his gaze was glued to your face, at every slightest reaction.

"I want to hear you, baby," he whispered in a hoarse voice. "I want everyone to know who is driving you crazy." You felt on a knife edge, the pleasure accumulating too quickly. "Sunghoon..." you gasped, your hands clasping to the sheets. He smiled against your skin, mischievous.

"Tell me you're mine."

"I am," you groaned. "Only yours." His tail moved even faster, a satisfied growl escaped from his lips.

"Yes, so..." Then, with a slow gesture, he took the lollipop you had forgotten and slid it on you, on your clitoris and you screamed for the sticky sensation you felt at your most sensitive point, the sweet sugar mixing with the warmth of your skin, your body trembled, the unbearable pleasure.

"I want you to dirty my whole bed, baby," he muttered, his eyes burning. "I want to see you completely lose control for me." And with his lips on you, his fingers deep and the lollipop cold against your hot skin, you felt yourself overcoming every limit, your body straining, lost completely in him. Sunghoon stood there, his breath heavy as he looked at you. Then he ran his tongue over his lips, savoring you as you came between his long fingers and his tongue and ate you as if you were his favorite meal, and he giggled quietly.

"Definitely much better than sugar." he told you as he sucked your excitement dripping from your sensitive center.

Sunghoon stood for a moment motionless, his chest lifting and lowering heavily as he looked at you, his ears stretched backwards, his tail moving erratically. He seemed on the verge of completely losing control. And then he saw you trembling under him, his thighs still open, his breath broken, his body marked by his kisses and his fingers, and something inside him broke.

"Fuck you," he growled quietly, the tone imbued with frustration and longing. In one movement, he took off the boxer, His excitement throbbed heavily among you, thicker, bigger than anything human, with its obvious animal furrow, turgid veins running through it, and a slight pearly patina on the tip. He was made to reproduce, to knot you, to fill you up to mark you as his. You felt yourself burning under his feverish gaze. Sunghoon grabbed you by the wrists and lifted you slightly, placing a pillow under you with an instinctive gesture.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, though the tension in his tone said how close he was to the edge. Then his hands grabbed the edge of your sweatshirt and, without any hesitation, slid it away, followed by your bra. His eyes glided greedy over you, his fingers touching your breasts, clutching them with a mixture of adoration and need. His breathing was heavy when his thumbs began to fiddle with sensitive skin, the touch as sweet as it was frustrating.

"I wish I could have prepared you more," he hissed through his teeth, his voice kneading with desire. "But I can't take it anymore. You're driving me crazy."

You threw a defiant look at him, a mischievous smile on his lips. "Oh? And I thought you had self-control..." Sunghoon stared at you for a second, his cynical grin widening. Then one of his hands came down on your thigh, tightly squeezing it. "I had," he admitted, tilting his head, his ears moving slightly.

"But then you came here to provoke me with that smell... with that body that just asks to be taken."

You felt yourself vibrating under the weight of his words. Sunghoon looked down, his tail moving restlessly as he grazed his length against you, making you feel every inch of his not-quite-human form. His groove pulsed, the instinct to knot you and tie you to him as nature dictated was now out of control.

He bit his lip, his breath hoarse. "I can't wait to see you take everything, to see you swollen because of me..." His body trembles. He was struggling with himself, trying not to get completely carried away by his impulses. And then you whispered to him those words that broke his every brake.

"You can do whatever you want with me, Sunghoon."

A deep growl climbed from his throat and without any more warning, he pushed his hips forward, reclaiming you with one movement, a cry escaped from your lips. His body was different, thicker, thicker, the groove of his heat throbbing as he perfectly suited you.

"S-Sunghoon..." you stuttered, your hands looking for a foothold on his strained biceps. He looked down at you, his crooked, perverse smile as he felt your body huddle around him. "Too much?"he repeated with a grin. "And yet, look how you're taking me ... little liar."

His voice was hoarse, imbued with an animalistic delight as he began to move. Each thrust was heavier, slower, deeper. His instinct led him to claim you, to make you feel every inch of his not entirely human form. Your legs involuntarily tightened around his hips, your body instinctively responding to his. He noticed it and laughed quietly, with that cynical and hungry tone that drove you crazy.

"See? Your body knows who it belongs to." You reeled, the pleasure clouding your mind as he sank deeper and deeper. "Sunghoon ... I—I..."

He came up to your ear, his breath boiling over your skin.

“What? Tell me." Your body trembled under him, and when you finally found the voice, it was only to whisper: "I want you to fill me..."

Sunghoon froze for a moment, his body stretched like a violin string. Then something in his eyes changed. "Fucking silly," he hissed, the tone more animalistic than before. "Don't tell me certain things, or I'll lose my mind completely."

But it was already too late. His groove swelled even more, and a heat wave spread inside you. Your breath snapped as you felt his body respond to the primal need to brand you. Sunghoon did not stop. Every push was more intense, every whispered word more possessive, his cock pushed deeper and deeper inside you and you felt your poor cunt suck it deeper and deeper, ormia your body responded only to the instincts of animalistic Sunghoon.

"I want you all ..." he gasped against your neck. "I want to see you swollen because of me... see my mark on you, I want to fertilize you with my sperm and with my rabbit knot in heat."

His nails pressed lightly against your skin as his body betrayed him, the heat consuming him, the instinct taking over. "You are mine," he growled, and there was no longer any doubt: he would not let you go.

His hands were everywhere—on your thighs, on your hips, on your arms, as if he wanted to brand you with his touch. And as it sank even deeper, you felt its body change inside you, its groove throbbing and swelling more and more, filling you to the brim. Your mind was clouded with pleasure, your body trembling under the weight of its heat and you felt like the last time a heat overwhelm you but even more.

"Hoon..." you gasped, fingers clinging to his strong shoulders. He looked down at you, his smile crooked and hungry, his eyes dark with desire. "Tell me, baby," he muttered in that cynical tone that drove you crazy. "I-Your knot... it's so big..." you stammered, your voice broken by groans.

He laughed softly, the sound deep and perverse. "Oh? Haven't you read in your stupid science blogs that when a rabbit hybrid is in heat, the knot gets even bigger?" Your shook your head weakly, your body squeezing it even more unwittingly.

Sunghoon groaned softly, his jaw clenched as he felt how much I was holding him back. "Damn... You're acting like a fucking fool in heat." His words made you shudder, your breath broken as he pushed even deeper, his knot swelling more and more inside you.

"Not even the rabbits when I'm in heat can hold me so well," he hissed with a crooked smile. "But you ... you're crushing me, baby." You squirmed under him, the pleasure too intense, every fiber of your body screaming for a release. "S-Sunghoon ... I ... want..."

He watched you with a predatory gaze, his irregular breathing as he teased your clit with expert fingers. "You want to come?"he asked with a cynical grin. You reeled, your body shaking under him. “Let him out then," he whispered against your ear. "I want to see you make a good mess in this fuck that you say so much to adore."

The heat poured into you in uncontrollable waves as your body gave way completely, your nails sinking into his skin as a scream of pleasure broke on your lips. Sunghoon did not stop, continuing to move inside you with deep, slow strokes, his knot still pulsing, sealing you together. His teeth grazed your neck as he whispered, his voice low and animalistic, Sunghoon gasped above you, his body boiling against yours as every fiber of his existence screamed to claim you. There was no trace of rationality left in his eyes—only the pure instinct of a hybrid in heat, thirsting for you.

His hands held you still, his muscles tense as he sank his cock deeper and deeper, his broken breath mixed with a choked growl.

“You're a fool, " he hissed at your ear, his voice hoarse and full of desire. “Do you realize what you did? You walked in here while I'm in heat, and now I can't stop.”

His strokes became deeper and deeper, more animalistic, his body clutching you as if he wanted to merge with you. He looked down at your belly, his eyes feverish as she felt his knot swell more and more inside you.

"Look how good you are taking me..." he whispered with a perverse smile. “Not even a slut could hold me so tight.” A shiver ran through your back, his dirty words making you lose control.

“I will tie you to me, " he continued, his teeth brushing your neck, his voice lower and hungry. “I'll fill you up to make you feel mine in every knot I can, I'll fumble you so all the other hybrids will know who you belong to.”

The heat within you grew, your body completely wrapped in its domain. "Say it," he insisted, his tongue caressing your moist skin. "Tell me that you want to be tied to me, that you want to be filled.” “L-I want it..." you gasped, your breath broken as your body trembled beneath him.

Sunghoon laughed softly, that deep, perverse sound as he looked at you with dark eyes of pure desire. “What a naive little prey... "

he whispered, as his knot swelled completely inside you, sealing you together. His warmth invaded you, his irregular breathing as he kept moving inside you with deep, slow strokes, savoring every second.

You felt completely bound to him, your body shaking as Sunghoon sank still, his hands clutching you with almost desperate need. His chest moved quickly against yours, his breath warm as he licked your neck with a possessive gesture. "Mine," he whispered with a satisfied grin. “And now you can no longer escape me.”

You felt his semen fill you completely and you screamed with pleasure as he kept pushing his cum-soaked cock inside you as if to make you realize that he never wanted to part with you.

The silence in the room was broken only by your ragged breaths, your bodies still stuck together with sweat, the warmth of his knot still present inside you.

When Sunghoon slowly pulled away, a moan escaped both of you, a mix of pleasure and sensitivity as your bond unraveled. His gaze dropped to your stomach, where his still-swollen knot left a visible mark of his claim. His dark eyes lingered on you for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe what he had done—how recklessly he had taken you.

He lay down beside you, his breathing still uneven, and without a word, he pulled you close. His arm wrapped around your waist, and his head nestled against your neck. You could feel his damp hair tickling your skin, his chest rising and falling with increasingly heavy breaths.

For a moment, you both stayed like that, wrapped in a silence thick with emotion, your hands intertwined without the need for words.

Then, a small kiss. Another. His lips brushed against your neck in slow, almost trembling gestures. And that’s when you heard it… a silent sob.

His breath hitched.

You stiffened for a second, surprised, then turned to look at him

“Hoon?” you whispered gently, but he didn’t move. His face was still buried against your body, his arm tightening around you as if he was afraid to let go.

Your hand moved slowly across his back, stroking him reassuringly. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

He shook his head, his breath breaking with another muffled sob. Then, in a barely audible voice, he murmured:

“I’m a monster.” Your heart clenched.

“Sunghoon…” You tried to lift his face, but he resisted, shaking his head against your neck.

“Look at me,” you insisted, your voice firm yet soft.

“No.”

A faint smile formed on your lips despite everything. “Don’t act like a child. I want to see that beautiful face.”

He stayed still for a moment before another quiet sob slipped from his lips. Slowly, ever so slowly, he pulled away just enough to lift his gaze.

And when his red, teary eyes met yours, you realized how fragile he was in that moment.

Sunghoon—the cold, cynical hybrid, the insatiable rabbit who had taken you so fiercely—was now just a boy, terrified of being hated.

And you? You had no intention of letting him go.

You gently caressed his cheek, your thumb brushing over his warm, slightly damp skin. Sunghoon closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to engrain that feeling into his memory. Then, without thinking, he took your hand and pressed a delicate kiss to the inside of your palm.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I was a jerk… an animal with you.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow, watching him with a small, knowing smile.

“Oh, absolutely,” you agreed, laughing softly as you began planting small kisses on the scattered beauty marks across his face. One on his cheek, one near his temple, one on his jawline.

Sunghoon sighed against your skin, his breath still uneven.

Then, almost unintentionally, he whispered:

“I love you.”

You froze for a moment, your lips still pressed against his skin.

The Sunghoon you knew was cynical, cold, calculating. He had always teased you, provoked you, even tormented you. You never thought you’d hear those words come from his mouth.

He tensed slightly in the silence that followed, clearing his throat. “Say something,” he murmured, more nervous than he wanted to admit.

You looked down at him, a tender smile curving your lips.

“I love you too.”

You felt him exhale softly, as if those words had lifted a crushing weight off his shoulders.

“Since when?” he asked, his deep, dark eyes locked onto yours.

You burst out laughing. “I don’t know… there’s no exact moment when you realize you love someone.”

Sunghoon lowered his gaze for a second, a small smile playing on his lips. “I do,” he admitted.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And when was that?”

He turned to look at you, his head slightly tilted against the pillow. “When I helped you with your homework. That’s when I started feeling something for you.”

You laughed, amused. “Are you serious? You fell in love with me while I was desperately begging you to explain economics to me?”

He scoffed, feigning offense. “Yes, because you were a total disaster,” he muttered, pulling you closer. “And I thought it was ridiculous how stubborn you were—how you refused to give up, no matter how hard it was.”

You looked at him fondly, your heart beating a little faster in your chest.

Sunghoon remained silent for a moment before shifting slightly, curling up against you.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked softly.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Will you be my boyfriend?” you countered playfully.

He shot you a glare. “Answer my question first.”

You chuckled, running your fingers through his soft hair before nodding. “Yes.”

Sunghoon smiled against your skin, and after a moment, in a whisper, he said it too:

“Yes.”

And in that moment, you knew nothing had ever felt more right.

Jakept Jungwonpt Jaypt

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