Mrsmoriarty-holmes - Till Death Do Us Part (23) - Tumblr Blog

it was always you Sylus/Reader | 10.6K words | Masterlist | AO3 [part 2 of but if it’s forever, it’s even better] “A baby… A baby. Baby. …you’re pregnant. Pregnant. With my baby.” A/N: I let Tumblr peer pressured me into writing a part two. ❤️ there is also an epilogue-ish part three…that I am still polishing up, so uh, give me another three weeks????? MDNI.

You had always known Sylus was a man of his words. He had made it known time and time again that he would never flatter you, never betray you, and most certainly never lie to you, so when the man himself promised that he would get you pregnant, he was going to get you pregnant.

“Sylus—ah! I…I might already be preg—ah!”

You bit down into his shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, clinging to him and clenching tightly as he continued to drive into you mercilessly, showing no sign of stopping or easing until you were both finished. You cried into his shoulder, gasping and moaning needily, as he spread you more, taking you in deeper and just hitting that sweet spot over and over again.

“Ohhh…” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, unable to even remember what you were about to say.

“Can’t be too sure,” Sylus said with a wolfish grin, pleased to see you such a quivering mess beneath him, cheeks all flushed red and eyes dazed with complete lust for him. Even though he could hear you protesting feebly, your body was betraying your true feelings, easily and eagerly taking him in.

“Sylus—!”

Sylus covered your mouth with his large hand, muffling the noises, but the feel of him still relentlessly thrusting in and out of you nevertheless had you helplessly moaning into his hand, your eyes looking up at him with tears brimming in the corners.

“Careful, sweetie,” he chided, smirking, “Wouldn’t want your neighbors to know what we’re doing, right?”

You moaned into his hand again, the feeling of him pounding into you had robbed you of all other coherent thoughts or even any feeling of modesty, your only focus in this moment was on him, the way he spoke, and the lewd noises of him fucking you. You whimpered and gasped when he removed his hand, but just as quickly your sounds were swallowed by his mouth as he greedily devoured your cries. When he pulled back, a string of saliva connected the two of you. He gazed at you haughtily, completely obsessed by the dazed look you gave him.

He chuckled darkly, his hand cupped your cheek, gently caressing you. “Then again,” he murmured, eyes twinkling mischievously, “I don’t particularly care if anyone hears us.”

He kissed you again. “Going to give me an heir?” he murmured, his tone holding shades of a light tease.

You tried to glare at him, but he laughed it off. “You are insufferable,” you griped, but almost immediately after you said that, he purposefully thrusted in harder, watching with amusement when your eyes rolled to the back of your head again, your pleased moans countering your earlier annoyed tone.

“What was that, sweetie?” he teased.

“Sylus…” you whined and gripped his arm pleadingly, “I can’t take this anymore—how—oh, god—how much longer?”

His eyes darkened, taking in the sight of you shaking with pleasure beneath him. He had been pushing you to your limits, taking you whenever he could, as often as he could. His own breathing grew shakier, his thoughts wandering, his eyes glazing with desire.

Not until it’s confirmed.

Not until…you’re round and heavy with my child…

I need to keep breeding you…until you’re pregnant…

Gonna fill you up, knock you up…

Need to see you swell…make you mine…gonna fuck my child into you—

“Fuck—” The thought of you carrying his baby had him coming quicker than either of you expected, and you whined at the feeling of how full he was making you feel. It was too much, and yet, your own body wanted more, wanted to milk him until he was empty, until his seed flooded your womb completely.

“Sylus…!”

“Fuck, sweetie,” he panted, his large body hovered closely over yours, only held up by his forearms as he stared into your eyes as he emptied himself into you. He kissed you roughly, his frenzied words coming out in between sharp gasps of breath, “You’re going to look so fucking pretty with my baby in you. Won’t be able to keep my hands off of you—gonna feel you up, fuck you again and again—oh, sweetie…”

You whimpered against his kisses, his dizzying words making the blood rushed straight to your head. Your arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to him tightly as you felt his body relaxing against yours. “Sylus…I feel so…full…”

He groaned as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. You felt him nibbling on your skin, felt all of his body heat against yours as you both slowly settled down from your shared euphoria.

For the next few minutes, neither of you spoke, the only sound heard in your bedroom was the two of you steadying your breathing. Then, you heard Sylus speaking up: “Let’s rest for a bit,” he said, pulling out of you and laying facedown next to you, his arms slung protectively over your stomach. He peered at you with a weary smirk, saying, “We’ll continue again later…”

“What? Again?” You startled at his words, eyes widening in shock as you exclaimed, “We’ve already done it three times tonight!”

“Oh, sweetie, you know I have a big appetite—in more ways than one.”

He hungrily kissed you, your small face held in his large hands, his touch gentle, but his kisses were ravenous. He parted, giving you a moment to catch your breath, but his words did nothing to calm your racing heart: “And when it comes to you,” he husked, “my craving is never satisfied.”

“I can never face my neighbors again…”

“Good. You should come live with me in the N109 Zone anyway.”

“You can at least pretend to sympathize with me for one minute.”

“I wouldn’t know how. Being empathetic is not in my nature, sweetie.”

For the next few weeks, you fell into a strange routine. If you weren’t in Sylus’ bed, then he was in yours, and while you would often protest against his enthusiastic advances, eventually you would always succumb to your desires, letting him have his ways with you to his heart’s content.

With so much going on, you didn’t notice the telling signs at first.

Fatigue? Work had been hectic lately.

Nausea? There had been a bug going around the city.

Tender breasts? Perhaps you were about to have your period.

Except…that was when you realized your period never arriving. You went over the dates, checked the calendar three, four times, as you did the calculations in your head.

You were late.

Your heart sped up, hands already resting on your lower abdomen. Your nerves were in bundles, thoughts haywire.

You…might be…

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

With Sylus’ baby.

Several pregnancy tests later, you stared at the row of pregnancy tests on your bathroom counter neatly lined up with identical results: Positive. You were pregnant.

You sat down on the edge of your bathtub, hand once again feeling your flat belly. So many thoughts ran through your mind, so many questions weighing you down. You had, more or less, planned this, but now that it was a reality—now that you were pregnant with Sylus’ baby—you felt nervous.

You couldn’t even pinpoint the reason for your anxiety. It was just a combination of so many different things, and while you could just continue to sit and mull and worry on your own, you knew you would rather go see Sylus as soon as possible. Taking a look at the late time, you decided first thing tomorrow morning, you would head over to the N109 Zone and see Sylus.

For now, you hoped a warm shower could help calm your nerves enough for you to sleep through the night.

The following morning, you woke up early to do a few chores around the apartment before heading outside for a quick walk to clear your head. You walked around the block, silently rehearsing in your head the different ways you could make your announcement. The previous night, you had ended up staying up later than intended, browsing videos and social media posts about how other people had made their pregnancy announcements. While many of them were cute, some even ingenious, you felt they didn’t seem right for you and Sylus.

As you approached your apartment building again, still lost in thoughts, you heard a caw nearby and instantly frowned, mumbling to yourself, “Oh, no…”

After a quick scan of your surroundings, your eyes caught sight of the familiar metallic wings flapping overhead before a certain mechanical crow landed on a nearby tree to perch, his eyes staring straight in your direction. You gritted your teeth in annoyance before you calmed your breathing. You slowly exhaled, forced on a sweet smile, and then called out to the mechanical crow in a sing-song voice, “Oh, Mephie~ who’s a pretty birdie?”

Mephisto gave you an indignant caw, and you feigned hurt, pouting at him. “Oh, don’t be like that, Mephie,” you cooed, “We’re besties, remember?”

Mephisto shuffled on his perch, cocking his head at you in confusion.

“And as besties,” you continued, taking off your rings to dangle in front of the crow, “We should be nice to one another, right? Help each other out, even?”

You could have sworn you saw the gleam of interest in Mephisto’s eyes when he noticed the shiny rings you were waving at him. Gotcha, you thought, pleased that your plan was working out.

“These rings,” you said, holding them out in the palm of your hand, “for your silence on this matter.”

Mephisto looked up at you confused.

“Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” you scolded the crow, folding your hand and gripping the rings tightly. “You are not telling Sylus about my pregnancy before me!”

You opened your hand again, holding up your bribe as offering. “Now, do we have a deal, Mephisto?”

You grinned when Mephisto eagerly and greedily seized the rings, giving you a nod before flying away with his new treasures.

You quickly headed inside to get changed. While Mephisto did seem to agree to your bribe, you still would rather head over to the N109 Zone as soon as possible to share the news with Sylus before any other mishaps could happen.

It was eight in the morning when you finally arrived at Onychinus’ base in the N109 Zone, an area constantly shrouded in darkness and where the entire concept of time felt utterly meaningless. It was also when Sylus would be asleep, seeing as his schedule and yours were polar opposite. Sylus tended to be in foul mood whenever he was woken up during his sleep, so you really should let him sleep for a bit longer. It almost didn’t seem right to wake him up so suddenly and, in according to his schedule, so early.

But then you remembered your recent bouts of morning sickness was all his fault, so you grinned and barged into his home loudly, startling Luke and Kieran who were lounging around in the dining area.

“Miss Hunter! What are you doing here so early in the morning?” Kieran rose from his seat in a chair while Luke remained seated on the table.

“Yeah, Boss is still asleep,” Luke added, “W-wait, where are you going?”

You grinned and ignored the twins who both gotten to their feet to trail after you nervously as you headed in the direction of Sylus’ bedroom.

“W-wait, Boss is going to be pissed if he’s woken up at this time!” Luke grabbed your arm to stop you, and you peered up at him with a startling sweet smile. Even with the mask covering his face, you could sense how nervous he was, whether it was because of the prospect of waking Sylus up or your frighteningly cheerful smile, you weren’t sure.

“It’s alright, you two,” you cooed, voice so saccharine it made them wonder what you were up to. You continued in a chipper voice, “He’s going to be thrilled by what I have to tell him.”

“Well,” Kieran started, scratching his head thoughtfully, “Miss Hunter does have him wrapped around her finger…”

“Right, Boss practically grovels at her feet—wait, don’t tell him I said that!”

By this point, you were already outside Sylus’ bedroom with the twins a good several feet away staring at you with mild horror. You quietly shooed them away and watched with a smile as they slunk back to the dining room while muttering among themselves. You couldn’t be bothered to care about what they could be whispering about.

You exhaled slowly, and then quietly opened the door, peering into the dark room with caution. Your eyes scanned the large bedroom, checking for any distractions, any oddities that could ruin this planned perfect moment.

“Good, Mephie is not in there,” you mumbled to yourself when you noticed the empty bird perch. You made a mental note to find something extra shiny for the mechanical bird for keeping his end of the deal. You continued your quiet surveillance, and when your eyes finally landed on the bed, you found Sylus asleep under the cover, seeing his chest rising and falling steadily.

You grinned.

As you tiptoed into the bedroom, you couldn’t help but noticed a large stray feather of Mephisto was laying on the floor. Your grin widened as you picked it up and made your way over to Sylus’ bed.

He was sound asleep.

He looked so peaceful, almost ethereal, even.

You smiled and leaned closer, using the feather to tickle his face.

Sylus stirred with an annoyed groan.

You quickly suppressed a giggle. Just as you were about to tickle his nose, Sylus opened his eyes and you startled from seeing his red irises so suddenly. Immediately, you let out a shriek when Sylus unexpectedly grabbed your wrist and pulled you into bed with him.

“You shouldn’t have snuck in here like this, sweetie,” he chided, holding you firmly to him.

You struggled in his embrace, but Sylus simply smirked, showing no sign of letting you go any time soon. “Who provoked who first?” he questioned arrogantly, giving your thigh a light smack.

You glared up at him, exclaiming, “Is that any way to treat the woman carrying your baby?”

He paused.

He stared.

And then he spoke—voice so rough, so dry.

“A baby… A baby. Baby. …you’re pregnant. Pregnant. With my baby.”

He had unconsciously let you go, barely noticing when you knelt next to him on the bed, grinning from ear to ear. You watched with delight, seeing the normally calm and haughty crime leader having a complete brain malfunction as he attempted to process your news, his eyes darting back and forth from your face and your stomach. Several emotions flashed across Sylus’ eyes ranging from confusion to surprise to shock before finally settling on joy—absolute, complete wholehearted joy.

You gasped when he pulled you into his firm embrace again, your face pressed to his chest as you felt his hands rubbing you up and down. You whined against him and he looked down at you completely delighted. His lips instantly pressed against yours, silencing your cries.

“We’re having a baby,” he murmured again, still not quite registering the words, finding them to sound so foreign on his tongue. “My god, we’re having a baby…”

“How many times are you going to say that?” You looked at him with a pout and he just grinned at you again.

“Until you give birth.”

You instantly blushed. “What are you saying—”

He sat back, leaning against the headboard and pulling you into his lap. You watched as his large hand lay over your still-flat belly curiously. He shook his head in disbelief, huffing quietly, “A baby. There’s a baby in there…”

“Y-Yeah…” you mumbled back, still finding the whole situation surreal as well. It was your body, but even you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that you were now carrying a new life inside you. Your eyes rested on your stomach. It was still so flat. How could a baby be growing in there? How could you get bigger?

You tilted your head a little, your questioning thoughts starting to drift to a new direction. You wondered when you would start showing. When would you start to feel the little kicks and movements? How big were you going to get? Were you having a boy or a girl? Would Sylus truly love you like this—

You teared up. Sylus immediately noticed and looked startled.

You started crying.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Sweetie, why are you crying? Why are you upset?”

You were immediately pulled into his embrace, his hand automatically rubbing the back of your head gently to soothe you as you cried against his chest. You heaved and sobbed against him as he mumbled comforting words, hoping they would calm you down.

“Did I do something?” he questioned softly, feeling helpless when he felt you shaking in his arms, unable to calm down or speak clearly.

You shook your head.

“Are you hurt somewhere?”

“N-no…” you mumbled feebly against his chest.

“Then why are you crying? Sweetie, talk to me…”

“I-I don’t know…”

Sylus peered down at your head and smiled gently. “I think a certain kitten is fibbing.”

“Quit it…”

“I will if she tells me why she’s crying.”

You grumbled against his chest, protesting quietly when he pulled you back to look at your reddened face and puffy eyes. He held your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your fresh tears as he shushed you gently. You sniffed.

“I’m going to get fat…”

Sylus looked confused.

And then he laughed.

“Ah, so is that why you are crying?” He chuckled, “Sweetheart, you are not going to get fat.”

“I’m going to gain weight!”

“For our baby,” he emphasized. “The baby is going to be growing inside you.”

“You’ll stop loving me…”

Sylus immediately frowned; his earlier mirth disappeared in that instance. His eyes narrowed in anger as he spoke coldly, “What did you say?”

You clammed up, unprepared for his entire demeanor change. You let out a shaky breath when Sylus grabbed your chin, gentle but firm, and held your gaze to him. His thumb brushed over your trembling lips as he spoke, his tone leaving no room for arguments, “I won’t ever stop loving you.”

He didn’t raise his voice, but the way he said those words so evenly, so softly and resolutely, they rang loud in the large room. Your heart pounded in your chest, his icy gaze on you rendered you speechless, making you forget about your earlier insecurities. He leaned his face closer to you, his lips just a breath away from yours. “If anything,” he continued, voice dropping lower, “I’ll love you even more.”

You whimpered when he captured your lips, his sweet kiss a binding seal for his ardent words. When he parted, he pressed his forehead to yours, his voice still breathless and unyielding, “Don’t ever question my love for you again.”

Your eyes lowered, embarrassed by your earlier outburst. You nodded obediently.

The room was quiet as you and Sylus remained still, him waiting patiently for you to calm yourself. Meanwhile, you felt your cheeks reddening as you replayed the last few minutes in your mind, your embarrassment growing stronger as you realized how silly and ridiculous you were being.

“Sylus?”

“Hmm?”

“I think I’m having mood swings already…”

“No kidding…”

“What did you say?!”

“My kitten,” he answered, kissing your forehead. He lay back down in bed, pulling you on top of him gently. Your head lifted, your protests dying instantly when you caught sight of his sweet expression, eyes closed and a pleased smile on his face. Your heart instantly melted, any residual doubts lingering in your mind disappeared the moment you heard him sighing blissfully: “We’re having a baby…”

“Are you sure you don’t want to let people know Onychinus’ leader is your baby daddy?”

“I’m sure.”

“Sure-sure, or pregnancy-brain-I-might-change-my-mind-again-sure?”

“Sure-sure.”

“Positive?”

“Positive!”

“Really—”

“Sylus! Absolutely, positively, undoubtedly 100% sure!”

“Mood swing?”

“I will melt your vinyl collection.”

For the longest time, it seemed your belly continued to remain flat as a board, making even you yourself doubtful about whether or not you were truly pregnant. If it weren’t for that first ultrasound you got at your prenatal visit, you probably would have dismissed the whole thing as a false positive.

However, the moment you saw that small speck on the ultrasound photo, the moment you caught Sylus’ own surprised expression, you both knew that this was real. Your lives were changing in the most astoundingly beautiful way possible, and no matter how much you both may prep for the arrival of your bundle of joy, you knew nothing would ever be like before.

How wonderful, you thought.

One morning, early in your second trimester, you noticed a slight rounding in your middle after waking up. You cautiously touched it, startled by the feeling of the curve. You could have sworn that just eight hours earlier, you still had your flat stomach, but right now you could definitely see a distinct difference, see the way it was beginning to shape and fill out. You touched it more firmly, still unused to the surrealism of this moment.

“It’s…happening…” you muttered to yourself, still trying to come to terms with this reality. You startled again when you heard your phone ringing.

It was Sylus, wanting to video chat. You answered immediately.

“Good morning!” you greeted him.

“Morning,” he yawned back, and you realized it was probably his “night” time now. “I just wanted to check in on you before you went to work. How are you feeling?”

“Good!” you responded brightly. Possibly a little too brightly, because Sylus immediately raised a questioning brow.

“‘Good?’” he repeated, crossing his arms in confusion. “How’s your morning sickness?”

“Haven’t had any—yet,” you answered cautiously. Then you smiled brightly and adjusted the phone to show your midriff. You lifted your pajamas top excitedly, exclaiming, “But look! I’m starting to show!”

You had expected Sylus to be excited, but his expression and entire demeanor was a far cry from what you had anticipated the notorious Onychinus leader to have. He seemed upset, and you frowned, slowly pulling your top back down. “Why aren’t you excited?”

“Huh?” He didn’t seem to realize his expression was upsetting you. He sighed, and apologized immediately. “I am excited,” he clarified, though his tone suggested otherwise, “It’s just…”

“Just what?” you demanded, feeling hurt that his behavior was not like what you had expected.

“I want you here with me.”

Your face softened. “What?”

“You’re starting to show,” he continued, “and it made me realize I don’t want to miss another second of your pregnancy. I’m just…upset that I am not by your side right now, seeing your belly grow, feeling it, taking care of you…”

You could feel your cheeks warming because of his words.

“Come live with me?”

“But—”

Sylus sighed, already expecting the usual excuses: your job, your life, everything you loved was in bright, sunny Linkon City. Not the dark and dreary N109 Zone.

“But my plushies…”

Sylus blinked, confused.

“Sweetie, I have more than enough room here for your belongings.”

“My job—”

“Didn’t you say your captain was putting you on desk duty?” he interrupted you, smirking, “Surely the Hunters Association allows their employees—especially ones in their…delicate condition—the option to work remotely?”

“…”

“No more excuses?”

“Not at the moment…Give me a sec.”

Sylus chuckled. “I’ll have Luke and Kieran make arrangements for your move.”

You gawked at him. “I never said yes!”

“Not explicitly,” he agreed and then tilted his head a little, smirking, “So explain to me why your eyes shined so brightly when I made my offer?”

You slumped in bed and stared at the phone—at Sylus’ insufferable smirk.

“Sweetheart…”

“I want you next to me, too,” you confessed as you looked down at the small bump forming. You tentatively touched it. “I want you with us.”

You looked up at the phone screen just in time to see Sylus had a quick intake of breath, his eyes had widened a fraction, easily missed by those with untrained eyes. Then, he shook his head, almost as if in disbelief by what he had heard. He chuckled to himself. “Sweetheart, I’ll see you in an hour.”

You looked confused. “I thought you were going to bed now?”

“How can I sleep after hearing you say something so adorable?”

You blushed, and tried to keep your voice and expression neutral. “Go to bed,” you said as sternly as possible in spite of Sylus’ amused smirk at your transparent attempt. “I’m getting ready to go to work.”

“Call out,” he demanded.

“No—”

“Fine,” he said, interrupting you to your confusion, “I’ll just show up to your workplace at the end of your work day.”

You stared at the phone, mouth agape. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Did you just make a threat?”

He shook his head, feigning hurt. “I am merely concerned for my pregnant girlfriend.”

“No,” you repeated firmly. “Do. Not. Come. To. My. Work. Place.”

“How mean,” he cooed mockingly, “You won’t allow me to see you, you won’t let people know I fathered your baby—”

“About that—”

He looked at you suspiciously. “What?”

“People kind of know…”

“I don’t understand,” he said, frowning. He tilted his head to the side in confusion. “You said you didn’t want people to know the leader of Onychinus knocked you up.”

“Well, yes—and they still don’t know that.” You bit your bottom lip nervously, flinching a little when Sylus questioned you again impatiently. “I couldn’t just not give them a name—Tara was so excited about the news and well—”

“Well, what?”

“I said Skye fathered my baby.”

“Who’s Skye—you did what?” Sylus paused, remembering. And then he laughed. “I see, so ‘Skye’ is your baby daddy then.”

The minute Sylus started smiling, you felt an uncomfortable feeling growing in the pit of your belly. You knew it wasn’t your morning sickness making you feel queasy in that moment. The knot worsened when Sylus started chuckling. You flustered and asked, mildly annoyed, “Why are you laughing?”

“No particular reason,” he answered affably, eyes twinkling in amusement. “I can be okay with this. In fact—”

Sylus’ smile widened. “I won’t come see you after work today after all.”

You breathed out in relief, but that brief moment of serenity disappeared just as quickly the moment Sylus finished his thought:

“‘Skye’ will pick you up today after work.”

“You are absolutely insufferable.”

“See you at five, sweetheart,” Sylus responded, smirking as he ended the call and you were left staring at your bewildered reflection in the darkened phone screen.

“Well, Baby,” You started, staring down at your small bump. You gently placed a hand over it, giving it a tentative rub. “Your daddy can be an ass sometimes…”

“You actually brought your plushies.”

“You said you have room for them.”

“I do, but—”

“But what?”

“I don’t remember getting Bunbun, Artsy Birb, or Happy Snowman with you…”

“…don’t worry about them.”

Before you knew it, you began calling Onychinus’ base your home. Not a second home, not a temporary home, but home. There were days you would wake up feeling disoriented, still not quite used to the N109 Zone’s seemingly eternal darkness. There were also many mornings you would find yourself missing and yearning for the sunlight in Linkon City, but those feelings of longing disappeared the moment you felt Sylus’ arm wrapped around your waist, feeling your growing belly and hearing his soft breathing so close to you.

Your eyes fluttered opened one particular day—or, perhaps, it was night, you weren’t quite sure yet—and you felt a familiar warmth behind you. You looked down and saw a large hand covering your growing bump.

You smiled.

Your belly had grown steadily these past few weeks, becoming more and more prominent each day, and while it seemed big to you, it still looked quite small when Sylus touched it. You stared at his large hand nearly covering your entire middle, and you swallowed nervously, realizing you still had several more months of your pregnancy. Plenty of time for your baby to grow bigger.

Much bigger.

You felt nervous.

And scared.

You started to cry.

Sylus immediately woke up when he sensed the sudden shift in your emotions.

“Sweetie?” He was immediately alert, sitting up and pulling you closer to him as he examined you all over looking for anything that could be causing you discomfort or distress. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“How am I supposed to have your big babies?!”

Sylus looked floored.

“…excuse me?”

You continued crying hysterically. “How am I supposed to push out your big babies?!”

Sylus blinked, still not quite following your train of thought. He knew your hormones had been fluctuating all over the place, but even that did not prepare him for this conversation. He rubbed his forehead, half-wondering if he was still asleep and dreaming this whole ridiculous situation. He sighed when you continued to hysterically ramble:

“What was I thinking letting you knock me up with your big babies? Fuck, I wasn’t thinking—I was just a horny little slut! And now I have your big baby inside me! How am I expected to push out a baby that size? Oh, god, what if I can’t—Sylus, stop laughing at me!”

Sylus was leaning against the headboard, his whole body shaking in amusement as he watched you spiral. He chuckled when you attempted to punch his shoulder, but his quick reflex easily allowed him to grab your wrist gently before pulling you into his embrace. He hummed happily when he felt your small bump pressed against his stomach.

“Sweetheart, you are worrying over nothing…”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not gonna be pushing something out of your—"

He kissed your lips, silencing you immediately. “It will be fine,” he reassured you, “Your body was made for this.”

“…for average sized baby…not what you’ve given me…”

He quirked an eyebrow at you, half-amused, half-confused. “I might regret asking this,” he said, giving your cheek a teasing pinch to your annoyance, “but what makes you so certain the baby is going to be abnormally big?”

“Look at you!”

He shrugged, still not quite following your train of thought.

“Sylus!”

“Look,” he started while stroking your head soothingly, his voice gentle, “The doctor said you are meeting all of the expected weight gain on time. Not under, and not over.”

You continued to sulk.

“The baby is growing at a perfectly normal rate.”

“But what if—"

He sighed. “I know all of this is scary right now—” He pressed his lips to your forehead. “And I—I can’t truly fathom your anxiety. You’re scared and I wish I can make you feel better—”

You looked up curiously.

He smiled and rubbed your cheek where he had previously pinched tenderly. “I am so bad at this…”

You stared at Sylus’ helpless smile and you felt a warmth spreading in your chest. This big intimidating man with such an imposing aura, such unfathomable confidence and charisma was rendered helpless and lost by you. You felt oddly touched by this. Your smaller hands grabbed his, holding it close to your cheek and you smiled at Sylus, surprising him.

“I might have overreacted,” you admitted sheepishly, adding, “I’m feeling better now, Sylus…”

He furrowed his brows. “Are you sure?”

You nodded and kissed his palm, your hand caressing his. “I’m still nervous,” you admitted, and Sylus’ expression softened, “But…I feel safe with you…”

He smiled and gathered you into his lap, holding you securely to him. He nuzzled his cheek against your head. “I wish I could take away all of your worries,” he murmured, “but I don’t want to lie to you or make promises I can’t keep…”

He kissed you sweetly, his voice still soft and gentle, “I can only promise that I will stay by your side for as long as you’ll have me…”

His hand lowered, feeling your belly, feeling the life the two of you had made together. “As long as you’ll both have me.”

You smiled at him, eyes brimming with tears.

He wiped the corners of your eyes, tsking softly. “Now,” he continued, his tone lightening, “Any other worries I need to quell tonight?”

You stilled, looking deep in thought. Sylus was only teasing, but he grew concerned when you seemed to ponder his inquiry seriously. He tilted your chin up, your gaze meeting his. He asked, “What is it?”

“Do…do you think I’m still…pretty?”

He blinked, and then he shook his head, amused. “Is that even a question?”

You looked at him sullenly. “Don’t patronize me…I’m serious.”

“Very pretty,” he murmured, grabbing your face, his lips pressed roughly against yours. You gasped and panted, not expecting the fierce kisses from him. His hand rested behind your head, your hair roughly tangled in between his long, slender fingers as he spoke deeply, a faint growl heard in the back of his throat, “So fucking pretty.”

You whined against his lips, and Sylus chuckled as he continued to mumble in between his relentless kisses, “My pretty, knocked up hunter, all round and swollen with my baby, so cute and needy—fuck, I can’t get enough of you…”

“Sylus…” You panted, feeling your body warming up as you listened to his voice, hearing that sinful rasp full of desire for you. You unconsciously rubbed yourself against his thigh and Sylus hissed, grabbing your hips.

“Sweetie…what are you doing?”

You blushed. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

He looked at you knowingly. He gripped your hips tighter, smirking. “You’re really testing my restraint right now…”

You looked at him expectantly, biting your bottom lip. He groaned at the sight.

“Sweetie, my self-control can only go so far…”

“What if…” you looked at him, eyes glazing with desire. “I say…I want you right now?”

“What?” Sylus looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to repeat your words. You felt your cheeks warming up under his intense gaze, but more than that, you also felt a burning inside you as you realize how much you missed and ached for his touch.

“What is this lewd expression you are giving me,” he murmured, tipping your chin up. He leaned down and planted kisses along your neck, nipping and sucking as his hands roamed down your body. You shivered against him as he spoke, “Are you…giving me permission, sweetie?”

“…Yes.”

That was all Sylus needed to hear.

His lips crashed upon yours again, hands fumbling with clothes, making quick work to discard them. Your needy gasps and moans mingled with his own impatient grunts and groans as you both gave in to the pleasure you had both abstained from these past few weeks.

“Sy—ohhh…”

Sylus had you on your side, your leg held up by him as he slid in slowly, his movements more careful than normal as he gauged your reaction, making sure to prioritize your comfort and wellbeing first. He placed a hand over your belly, cradling it possessively. “Who put this baby in you?” he demanded, the rasp in his voice noticeable, making you throbbed inside.

“Y-you, Sylus!”

He kissed your neck. “That’s right,” he murmured, nipping at your skin and leaving his marks, “It’s my child growing inside you, my child in your womb.”

You shivered against him.

“Sylus…more…please…”

“Are you sure—”

“Yes!”

He smirked at your eager, impatient response. His face buried into your neck, his voice husky with desire, “It looks like it’s going to be a long night…”

“I can’t be around Luke and Kieran anymore.”

“Are they bullying you, sweetie? Just bully them right back, you have my permission.”

“That’s not what I meant—never mind. I just…feel like they know what we did…”

“Did they say something?”

“No, it’s the way they looked at me…”

“…they wear masks all the time. How can you tell?”

“I just know.”

“Sweetie…”

“Don’t you dare say I am being hormonal again!”

“…”

Ping!

“Sylus, what the hell?! Did you just text an emoji to me?!”

“I did as you said. I did not say you were hormonal.”

“You texted me the ‘pondering’ Grumpy Crow emoji!”

“It could mean anything.”

Ping!

“…Really, sweetie? The ‘annoyed’ Grumpy Crow emoji?”

“It could mean anything.”

You should have known that Sylus would be prepared for your pregnancy cravings, although, you couldn’t help but felt that he had taken things too far.

“Um…” Luke opened the fridge and stared inside for a moment before closing the door. He turned and stared at you from behind his mask. “Is Miss Hunter craving yogurt?”

“What?” You paused in your work and looked up from your laptop confused. “What are you talking about—”

Luke opened the fridge door again, giving you a grand view of the assorted brands and flavors of yogurt that filled the fridge in every conceivable spot possible.

“I—” you stared, mouth agape, “I simply said yesterday, ‘yogurt sounds tasty right now’!”

Kieran strolled over and opened the freezer door and you all stared awkwardly at the containers after containers of frozen yogurt that also lined the shelves.

“At least he is attentive,” Kieran responded pleasantly while you sat there unsure if you should feel happy or exasperated by Sylus’ gesture.

“Let’s see,” Luke started, pointing at each container as he listed the different types, “You have the regular yogurt, Greek yogurt, French-style, organic, dairy-free, low-fat, probiotic—”

“You also have plain yogurt,” Kieran cheerfully chimed in, adding, “Vanilla, strawberry, peach, raspberry, cherry, mango, coconut, pomegranate…”

“Key lime pie, strawberry-banana, chocolate, cookies ‘n’ cream, mixed berry, orange crème…”

“It’s the salad dressing incident all over again…” you bemoaned, earning absolutely no empathy from the two men in the room, who seemed to be delighted by this odd situation.

“Maybe next time you should be more specific,” Luke said unhelpfully, earning instantly a glare from you. He held up his hands in defense and shrugged. “Say, Miss Hunter, can I have one of the—”

“Be my guest,” you said, sighing when Luke happened to grab the vanilla yogurt that came with crushed chocolate cookies to sprinkle on top.

“Wait, does Miss Hunter even have any cravings right now?” Kieran pondered aloud.

Sex, your mind unhelpfully answered for you before you shooed that traitorous thought away. You forced a pleasant smile on your face and shook your head as you rubbed your growing belly. “Not really. This little one doesn’t seem to mind what I eat.”

“Huh,” Luke said as he stirred the cookies into his yogurt. “No wonder Boss is desperate to find anything to buy for you…”

Kieran nodded in agreement with his brother, adding, “He must really want the whole pregnancy experience with you…”

“Is that so?” You couldn’t help but feel touched by Sylus’ gesture now.

“Maybe you should make something up,” Luke suggested.

You rolled your eyes. “Be for real, you two. I am not going to make up some cravings when I don’t have any just so Sylus can—”

“How about pickles and hot chili-lime tortilla chips?” Kieran suggested, looking up from his phone.

“What are you—actually, that does sound good…”

“What sounds good?” Sylus walked into the kitchen, interrupting your conversation. You glared at Luke and Kieran into keeping their silence, and the two nodded reluctantly.

“Never mind that,” you said, standing up with Sylus’ help, “Are you ready to go to Linkon City?”

Sylus sighed. “The doctors in the N109 Zone are just as good. Hell, I can even get you your own personal doctors to come to our home—”

“Sylus, I want to go to Linkon City. Please?”

One look at your pouting lips had Sylus yielding to you immediately. He sighed again and shook his head in defeat, “Fine, fine, whatever you like, sweetie.”

As you and Sylus started to leave the kitchen, Luke piped up, “Hey, Boss, do we have any yogurt around here?”

You shot Luke the dirtiest look you could muster, making a mental note to get back at him again for his comment.

It was a girl.

It was going to be a girl.

Any worries that Sylus would be disappointed in the gender immediately left your brain the moment you caught sight of his awestruck stare as he gazed at the monitor where you both watched the baby make little movements.

The doctor left the two of you alone to gather your thoughts, to bask in this private joyous moment. The moment the door closed and you two were truly left alone, you both let out the breath you were holding in.

Sylus was the first to speak, his voice more surprised than you had ever heard from the usual confidant man: “We’re having a girl…”

Your heart skipped a beat. It seemed each day, everything felt more real than the last. You knew you were having a baby, of course, but now that you knew it was going to be a girl…you felt so many conflicting emotions coursing through yourself: joy, worry, fear, doubts.

But when you looked upon Sylus, any insecurities you felt disappeared instantly, because you knew he would never leave you to handle things alone. If anything, you knew he would shoulder all of the hardship if he could just so you would never have to suffer for a second in your life.

“Sweetie…”

You gazed into his crimson eyes the moment you felt his hand on your cheek.

“Thank you…”

You blinked in confusion, but he never elaborated further. Instead, you felt his lips on yours, his touch more tender, more protective. As you parted, you saw his eyes drifted from the monitor to your belly, his expression was so tender and heartfelt.

You smiled when you realized you were no longer the only girl in Sylus’ heart.

Bright red eyes. Long, straight nose. Full lips.

“Are you not hungry tonight, sweetie?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at me for the last ten minutes,” Sylus said, frowning, “Do I have something on my face?”

“Uh, no…” you responded, blushing in embarrassment.

“Then what’s wrong? Is the food not to your liking? Do you want to order something else?”

“N-no,” you answered, stopping Sylus from calling the waiter over. Your blush seemed to deepen even more, embarrassed for so many different reasons now. “It’s fine. The food is yummy. Look, I’m eating!”

You took a bite of the roasted chicken on your plate to prove a point. Sylus didn’t look satisfied, so you sighed in defeat and placed your fork and knife down. You breathed in slowly, preparing yourself for your little confession. “Alright…just…don’t laugh at me…”

He huffed in amusement at your preface.

“I just said don’t laugh at me!” you looked up, glaring at him.

“Alright, alright,” he conceded good-naturedly, “So what’s wrong?”

“I was…imagining…”

“Imagining?”

You blushed.

“Imagining what?” Sylus questioned, furrowing his brows as he leaned forward, reaching across the table to grab your chin, turning you to face him. “Answer me.”

“Just…what…the baby will look like…with your features…”

He blinked in surprise, letting go of your chin. He leaned back in his seat, chuckling in amusement.

“You’re laughing at me again!”

“I’m not laughing at you,” he objected. He leaned forward again, his left elbow propped on the table, his chin cradled in his hand as he smiled smugly at you. “You’re just so cute.”

If it was possible, your blush probably deepened to another shade. You tried to focus on your dinner, but this time you could feel Sylus’ eyes watching you intensely. You could practically feel your heart pumping fast and hard in your chest. You startled when you heard him speaking again:

“But shouldn’t the baby also have your features as well, sweetie?”

“Well…probably,” you answered.

“I think she’ll look much prettier if she looks like her mommy.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t flatter me.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s factual,” he countered with a grin. “And her mommy is very pretty.”

You quietly ate your dinner, pretending you didn’t hear him, though inside you felt delighted by his praises. Sylus continued to watch you eat, amused by your transparent act. He could practically see you brimming with joy at his compliments.

“Shall I order dessert?” he asked, already calling the waiter over. He didn’t even look at the menu, saying, “One of everything.”

You gaped. “We couldn’t possibly finish all of that!”

He shrugged. “We’ll take them to go then.”

“That—that’s not what I—” Your eyes widened as Sylus ignored your protests and gave the revised order to the waiter. “Sylus, that’s too much!”

He chuckled again. “Sweetie, you deserve to be pampered,” he said, “Let me lavish and spoil you during this special time.”

He reached across the table again, wiping your lips with his thumb. You heart skipped a beat as you watched him licked his thumb clean. “Besides,” he started, gazing at you fondly, “You’re already giving me the greatest gift ever.”

“I still think you ordered too much.”

“Complain all you want you, sweetie, but when it’s 2 AM and you are craving a lemon-raspberry cheesecake, you will thank me.”

“But I haven’t had that many cravings during this pregnancy! I’m actually a little disappointed…”

“Shall we play the guessing game then?”

“No alcohol.”

“I obviously wasn’t going to suggest—stop glaring at me.”

Another wet dream.

Some women were exhausted. (You were exhausted.)

Some have weird food cravings. (You had a different craving.)

Some may even be emotional. (You were very, very emotional.)

But you.

Well…you…were having wet dreams and an out-of-control sex drive. (Fuck.)

You woke up one morning groaning in annoyance. You remembered bits and pieces of the lewd dream, enough that you were squirming now that you were awake, feeling frustrated in parts because one: you couldn’t finish the dream, and two: you really needed to finish…

You suddenly noticed Sylus was asleep in bed next to you. You briefly wondered why you didn’t notice him getting into bed earlier, but the thought quickly dashed away when your sex-crazed brain suddenly noted appreciatively that he had fallen asleep in his bathrobe again, the belt barely tied around his waist, exposing his toned torso to you.

A book was lying next to him, and his reading glasses were tilted on his face. You surmised he must have fallen asleep while reading earlier. A mischievous thought found its way into your head, and for a brief second, you contemplated, questioning your own motives.

Well, you were only going to help him take his glasses off. You didn’t want them to break. You were just being thoughtful. Truly.

You hauled yourself up, groaning at the increasing difficulty with each day that your belly grew. You steadied your hand over your bump, giving it a gentle rub before you crawled over and climbed onto his lap, straddling him.

Sylus was still asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly.

You held back a moan when you realized he hadn’t put on any undergarment after his shower. What a sneaky bastard.

You leaned forward, touching the frame of his glasses. You hissed when you felt your round stomach pressed forward, touching his toned abdomen. The crisp scent of his body wash wafted in the air so close to your nose, making you just want to lean forward and inhale deeply.

You shook your head, chiding yourself silently before you quickly took his glasses off and placed them on the nightstand.

As you were about to climb off of him, you felt yourself brushing against him—against his bulge. You swallowed slowly, feeling a warmth spread in your core. You could practically feel yourself throbbing and aching inside.

Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

Maybe you could be quick and…

You were just going to…

Sylus’ eyes shot opened when he felt a new weight on top of him. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of you on top of him, shamelessly grinding against him. His brain quickly caught up with the situation and he laughed, as he reached out to grab your hips, pulling you into his embrace.

“Well, good morning to you, too, sweetie,” he laughed, kissing your lips, “Is this how you’re going to wake me up from now on? Because I like it.”

You blushed in embarrassment. “I—I can explain.”

He raised an eyebrow.

Grinning, Sylus reached under your nightgown, cupping your sex and rubbing his hand against the fabric of your soaked panties, making you gasped and moaned loudly, the feel of him touching you was a welcoming friction. “Really?” he questioned, his voice dropping an octave lower, “You can explain why you’re so wet right now?”

“Sy-Sylus…” you practically whimpered his name, looking at him pleadingly. You were already suffering from your out-of-control hormones, and right now, that delightfully sinful and sultry voice of his was only making things worse.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” he cooed, “Need to get yourself off on my cock?”

You really did whimper this time.

He looked amused as he undid the belt of his robe. You followed Sylus’ every movement, watching with rapt attention as he wrapped his hand around his magnificent cock and began stroking himself leisurely. His own eyes remained locked on you, relishing in the way you were reacting to him. You swallowed, feeling your insides pulsing, needing to be filled by him.

“Ride me,” he ordered. You shuddered at his tone, but you were also more than ready and willing to listen to him. He smirked as he helped you removed your drenched panties, amused by the needy state you were already in this early in the morning. He helped steadied you on top of him, helped you aligned yourself to him, and then in one fluid motion—

“Fuck…” Sylus threw his head back, groaning, as you eagerly sank down on his fat cock. He looked back at you, grinning at the sight of your aroused face taking him in so deeply. “If I’d known being pregnant would make you this insatiable, I would have knocked you up sooner, sweetie.”

You mewled happily when his large hand touched your round belly, rubbing it in slow circles.

“Look at you,” he crooned, leaning up and leading your lips to his. He nibbled on your bottom lip, his voice a soft murmur, “So sweet for me.”

You gasped as he reached out and pulled down the strap of your nightgown, exposing your breast. They had grown considerably throughout your pregnancy, the areolas had darkened, and your breasts felt very heavy with milk for the baby still in your womb. As you rode him, your breasts bounced heavily, the sight turning him on more and more.

You moaned as his hands groped you, his voice heavy with arousal, “Gonna keep you like this…”

You let out a shuddering gasp when he thrusted up, your hands instantly steadying yourself on his chest. You looked into his eyes as he rubbed your belly again.

“Sylus—”

You closed your eyes, gasping and panting as his mouth took in your sensitive nipple. A lick, a tease, and you could already feel it firming up as he sucked eagerly while his hands roamed your body, every touch of his making your skin burned hot. As the morning wore on, you couldn’t help but think how wonderful it would be when your milk would come in and he would have a taste as well.

You couldn’t wait.

“For the last time, Sylus, we are not buying everything in the catalog!”

“Why not? I can afford it.”

“I know you can afford it, but I don’t need all of these items. The baby doesn’t need all of these items!”

“Sweetie, I am only making sure you and my daughter will want for nothing.”

“Thoughtful, if not ill-conceived.”

“How heartless. You do not appreciate my generosity enough.”

“I will once you explain the crow-themed nursery you had Luke and Kieran planning.”

“A compromise since you will not allow me to make a mechanical crow for her.”

“Incorrigible.”

Sylus had always loved spoiling you, be it with material items, praises, or his affections. It was his sole belief that you deserved to be lavished, to be gifted and spoiled with the luxuries of the world, and within the bedroom, he made sure you were worshiped in other ways. Your every whim was his to answer, and he did so willingly, devotedly, and ardently.

The bedroom lights dimmed, and a record played soft, sensual music in the room.

You found yourself standing bent over his bed, large belly hanging low as he approached you from behind. Large calloused hands held your widened hips, fingers pressing into the soft flesh and already drawing out your fluttering gasps as you trembled with anticipation, already shamelessly imagining that deliciously large, thick cock of his penetrating you so deeply, in ways no other man could ever compare.

He lifted your right leg, holding it higher at hip level to give him an even better access to your soaked pussy.

“You’re so beautiful…and all mine…”

You moaned into the mattress as you felt him easing in.

“Doing alright?” he questioned, showing a moment of hesitancy as he tried to gauge your reaction.

“Yes…yes…Sylus…more…”

He smirked and continued, filling you just the way you wanted.

“I just want to keep you like this…” he murmured, sounding more like he was speaking to himself than you.

Heavy with my child…

Want to keep you bred.

Knock you up over and over and over again…

“Oh, Sylus, you’re being so rough!”

He startled, snapping out of his thoughts. He slowed his movements before bending over and kissing your shoulder apologetically. “I’m sorry, do you want me to stop?”

You shook your head slowly.

“Are you sure?”

“I want you…please?”

He smiled and kissed your cheek. “How can I resist my dear hunter’s sweet request?”

As he began moving again, your fingers curled around the bedsheets, little moans escaped. Unwittingly, you mumbled into the sheets, your words reaching his ears, “More…want…to give you more…”

“What?”

You whined when he stilled. “Sylus…please…”

“What were you…saying?”

Your hand reached around your large belly, rubbing it provocatively. Sylus felt like he had stopped breathing. The very suggestion, the mere idea that you were already hinting that you would let him impregnate you again made him more aroused than he already was.

Sylus breathed in sharply, fingers pressing deeper into your hips.

He smirked.

He drove into you, fast and unforgiving, panting hard with a pleased grin on his face as you buried your face into the mattress, fingers gripping the bedsheets tighter as you cried out his name again and again.

“Are you going to let me fuck you like this again?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“Gonna let me put another baby in you after this one?”

“Yes, Sylus, yes!”

He groaned and buried himself deep inside you, his body loomed over yours, his sinfully deep voice close to your ear now. You shivered as he whispered into your ear, “Do you like being pregnant with my baby, sweetie?”

You moaned when his hand felt your large belly, rubbing it all over possessively.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

“Yes…”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes…I love being pregnant with your baby!” you cried out, voice growing more desperate to his delight as you found yourself unable to stop the words from leaving your lips. “I want to have more of your babies, Sylus! Want to give you as many babies as you want—”

You screamed into the mattress as he picked up his pace again, taking you harder than before. Your tantalizing words seemed to only have spurred him on, his crimson eyes gleaming brightly while a smug smile graced his handsome face. You gasped and moaned, whimpering to him, “Ohhh…Sylus…! Gonna cum…ah…gonna cum, Sylus…!”

He groaned as he felt your walls tightened around him. He panted, his hands rubbing your hips soothingly as he husked, his own breathing uneven as he felt he was close to finishing as well, “C-cum for me, sweetie. Cum on my cock—”

He stilled, his head thrown back with a deep groan as he felt you coming undone, your euphoric cries music to his ears. With a few more hard, deep thrusts, his own climax came, and you felt him filling you with ropes after ropes of his cum. You felt so full.

He leaned over you, his body heavy on yours. You felt his warm kisses along your neck, his divinely rich voice so close to your ear. “You love being pregnant with my baby…you want more of my babies…”

“Uh huh…” you answered back breathlessly with a smile.

“Fuck’s sake,” he groaned at the sight of your suggestive, mischievous smile. “I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

He smirked and grabbed your chin, guiding your sweet lips to his. “When did I become so lucky?”

He pulled out with a groan, chuckling at the lewd sight of his cum dripping obscenely out of you and down your legs. He gathered you into his arms, smiling as you snuggled closer to him, tired but also immensely satisfied. You felt him laying you down in bed, settling in next to you and holding you close to his own body. Sylus watched over you as you rested next to him, his eyes fixated fondly on your sleepy face while his hand rubbed your belly soothingly to calm your restless baby in your womb.

“She’s moving so much tonight,” he murmured, bemused.

“Can you blame her?” you answered, eyes still closed, but your hand rested over Sylus’, guiding him to where you felt the most movements.

He chuckled. “Fair point,” he conceded. He leaned down and kissed your belly, whispering sweet words to your daughter, his voice holding so much love and devotion for the baby you two made together.

You opened your eyes, smiling at the sight of him caressing your belly adoringly. You had never thought there would be a moment like this in your life, never dared to dream of a love as sweet and pure as this. You wondered if you had traded all of the good luck in your lifetime for this man and the life you were both embarking on together.

“Do…do you want more?” you asked suddenly, voice tentative, almost fearful.

Sylus seemed to stop breathing for a moment.

“More…children,” you clarified.

He exhaled, and laughed. He settled more comfortably in bed, pulling you into his embrace, his hand already stroking your hair gently, already easing your worries. You relaxed under his tender ministration, eyes closing as you listened to his voice:

“Hearing the pitter-patters of little feet in this large house…why, that might be my new dream…”

You hummed in agreement before a yawn escaped. Sylus smiled.

“Shall I tell you a story, sweetie?”

“Mmhmm…”

“There once was a lonely old crow,” he began, gentle eyes gazing down at your sleepy face, “He lived only for himself…until he found a kitten…”

“A kitten?” you mumbled drowsily; eyes still closed. You yawned again and snuggled closer to Sylus. You sighed contentedly when you felt his hand stroking your head. His presence was so warm, so protective and loving, you felt like you could sleep and dream forever in his arms.

“A kitten,” Sylus repeated, continuing, “A kitten…he wanted to protect…and love…”

Sylus paused, hearing soft snoring. He looked down and saw that you had already fallen asleep. He stroked your hair, wrapping strands around his finger.

“They’ll live happily ever after together,” he promised.

Sylus had never cared for sunlight.

He had traversed in darkness and made himself ruler of a city shrouded in never-ending darkness. He lived within the shadows and only knew of this isolating world—of this existence.

Until he met you.

He had crossed over to your world, stepped into the light, into the warmth of the sun. Even though he still found the light unpleasant, he was willing to bear it all just to be near you. To see the joy on your face as you walked under the sun again after so long was a sight to see.

You always did make the sun more bearable, he thought, feeling your hand slipping out of his. You walked on unaware while Sylus fell behind, admiring the beauty in front of him.

Bathed in daylight, Sylus saw a blinding vision, a bright future with you in his life, by his side steadfastly. He knew he had stolen a piece of Heaven, already prepared and willing to pay the heavy price to keep what he had coveted.

“Will you be my wife?” he asked suddenly and you paused in your steps, realizing he had fallen behind. You turned and looked at him, cheeks tinged a pretty shade of pink, unsure if you had misheard him or not. “What did you say?”

He chuckled and shook his head in amusement at your coy look. He walked toward you slowly, but his long legs easily closed the distance between the two of you in no time. “Make an honest man out of me,” he said. Gentle crimson eyes peered down at you full of resolve and love. His hand caressed your cheek lightly, his voice soft and sultry, “Be my bride?”

“But…I’m pregnant,” you reminded him feebly, not noticing his confused look. You lowered your eyes to the ground, but truly all you could see was your large, round belly. It had been a while since you last saw your feet. You were all too aware of Sylus’ eyes on you, feeling your heart pounding in your chest as you replayed his earnest words in your mind. You continued meekly, “I’ll look fat in a wedding gown…”

He laughed. Sylus leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You’re not fat,” he said sternly, “You’d look gorgeous even with this belly—why, I might enjoy it even more.”

You huffed doubtfully. You continued to avert gazes with him, but you could still feel the warmth of where his lips were on your cheek. Your heart continued to race and you could feel the baby in your belly growing more active, possibly sensing your tumultuous emotions. You unconsciously cradled your belly, rubbing soothing circles.

Sylus noticed and he smirked, tilting his head in amusement. He tipped your chin up, his lips mere centimeters from yours. “I want everyone to know that you and this baby are mine.”

“Sylus…”

“Sweetheart, it was always you,” he said, “There is no one else.”

He pecked your lips, so light and fleeting, you yearned for more. Your eyes rested on Sylus, his entire being engraved into your memories, into your heart, into your soul. When you looked into his beautiful eyes, you could see forever. There was only one answer you could give him.

“How about it?” he murmured, his deep voice was like honey to your ears, so sweet and sensual in the way he uttered just those three simple words. “Marry me?”

You smiled. “Guess this is forever…”

In mere seconds, you were enveloped in his warmth, his eyes seeing only you, only the life that was about to unfold.

“When did my luck change?” Sylus wondered aloud, stealing kisses after kisses from you.

When indeed…

The pieces of your lives fell into place, this picture of paradise becoming clearer with each passing moment. It was yours to keep, yours to hold.

How divine.

Talking to your baby bump ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Zayne carefully arranged pillows to support your sleeping form before settling beside you on the bed, your baby bump now beneath the covers. His hand wandered to stroke gentle circles over the swell, awestruck as always by the miracle inside.

"Hey little one," he murmured softly so as not to wake you. "It's just you and me for a chat." A tiny fluttering kick met his palm, drawing a quiet chuckle.

"I want you to know how excited your dad is to meet you," he continued, voice full of wonder. "I'll teach you everything how to walk, talk...".

His eyes drifted to your peaceful expression, love swelling in his chest. "You're going to have the best mommy, you know. She's the kindest, bravest person I know." Brushing hair from your cheek, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

Turning attentions back to your unborn child, Zayne smiled. "I promise I'll support both of you no matter what. We're gonna have so much fun together, the three of us."

Caressing the bump once more, he whispered, "I love you so much already, little peanut. Can't wait to hold you in my arms."

As if in reply, a stronger fluttering pressed against his palm. Smile stretching ear to ear, he rested his head by your side, content to keep watch over his perfect little growing family.

You were curled up asleep on the couch, your baby bump pressing against the cushions as you rested. Rafayel came over quietly and knelt beside you, gently placing a hand on your stomach.

"Hey little one," he whispered softly so as not to wake you. "It's daddy."

He still couldn't believe there was life growing inside the woman he loved most. Your child wasn't even born yet and already he loved them fiercely.

"I just wanted to tell you how excited I am to meet you," he continued, rubbing gentle circles with his palm. "Your mommy and I have been waiting so long for this."

There was a flutter of movement under his hand and Rafayel's breath caught, overcome at even the smallest response. "I know you can't understand me yet, but I promise I'm going to be the best daddy."

Throughout your pregnancy so far, he had doted on your every need and craving. But in quiet moments like this, he also spoke his heart to your unborn baby through your belly.

"We're going to have so much fun learning and playing together. I'll teach you how to draw if you want!" He chuckled softly. "But most of all, I want you to know how much you are loved already, little one."

He placed a tender kiss to your abdomen resting his cheek there.

The evening sun slanted gently through the bedroom window as you slept, your soft breathing the only sound amid peaceful quiet. Xavier lay beside you, propped on an elbow while watching your belly rise and fall beneath his palm.

9 weeks along now, just the faintest swell showed your child's growth nestled safely within.

Leaning down, he placed a tender kiss to your belly through fabric before whispering, "Hey little one. It's Daddy. I know you can't hear me yet but I just wanted to say hi."

He scooped gentle circles with his hand, half expecting to feel answering flutters even this early. His heart swelled impossibly at the idea of hidden tiny fingers and toes taking shape, getting ready to greet him.

"I can't wait to meet you. Your mom and I will do everything to take care of you, keep you safe and loved."

"You'll know so much love, little peanut. We're going to be a perfect happy family together - just wait and see." Xavier sniffed, emotion rising in his voice. His eyes strayed reverently to your peaceful face.

"You're so lucky to have her as your mom. She's going to be the best." He murmured placing soft kiss to your stomach.

You had drifted off to sleep early in the evening, Sylus sat beside you on the couch, watching your peaceful slumber with a quiet smile.

His large hand drifted to rest gently against the swell of your abdomen, feeling the occasional flutter of tiny movements stirring within. His child, strong and spirited even now, responding to his touch.

"Hey there little one," Sylus murmured low, careful not to wake its mother. "It's just us guys for now. You keeping momma company in there?"

A curious prodding against his palm seemed to answer. His smile widened as he continued his one-sided conversation.

"You're going to turn our whole world upside down soon. But me and your mom, we can't wait to meet you. We'll teach you everything - how to walk, talk. Maybe how to wrestle if you're up for it."

Soft chuckling accompanied the mental image before growing serious once more. "Most of all, we'll make sure you know how much you're loved. No matter what."

His fngertips traced soothing patterns over stretched skin, voice dropping lower. "We'll be here for you always, little crow. Me and your mom against the world."

Glancing once more at your sleeping form, he placed a tender kiss to your belly. "Be good to your mom, you hear? See you real soon, little one."

©loveanddeepspaceimagines 2024

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Hope you enjoyed reading this peace! Reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated. I'm hoping i can find mutuals in lads fandom! Thank you for reading!

Fic Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Female Reader

Genre: Fluffy Smutty Romance, Unplanned Pregnancy/Sort of Enemies to Lovers AU

CW: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Baby Daddy Nanami Kento, Unplanned Pregnancy, Slow Burn, Minor Character Death, Angst/Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, MINORS DNI

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

Summary: 

You probably shouldn’t have slapped him.

But you didn’t care. He deserved it after days of dismissive remarks and hard glares to everything you worked so hard for.

“I’m pregnant. I don’t want your help. I don’t need your help. The fact that you’re the father is more than enough to keep me away from you.”

or: Despite your differences and frustrations with one another, you share a drunk but passionate night tangled in the sheets. But now, five weeks later, you and Nanami Kento have no choice but to navigate a rocky relationship while also embracing the new responsibilities of parenthood that lay ahead.

Author’s Notes: This is my very first fic and a WIP. I have two more chapters left. This entire process has been a journey and there will always be things that I can improve on. But for now, please enjoy. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I love writing it! <3

~Those Moments In Between - moments that take place during and after It Had To Be You.~

Chapter Summaries:

Thank you all for coming on this journey with me. Feel free to leave a comment to let me know your thoughts. Or send me a message if you want! Love you all <3

Chapter 1: Your life comes to a startling halt when you realize the abrasive and dismissive man you shared a passionate but drunken night with is now the father of your child.

Chapter 2: That first day when you meet him, you’re bright eyed and ready to work alongside him, filled with so many ideas that will benefit the company. Him, Nanami Kento, a highly esteemed director that always made your stomach flip in desire. But it turns out, he’s not what you thought. Flashback

Chapter 3: When it comes to work, Nanami likes to follow a specific code for people like you. And he would like to think it’s working so far. But one too many drinks and things change. Flashback

Chapter 4: When you think you’re a step ahead to keep Nanami out of your way, your world comes crashing down and makes it harder for you to decide to break the news.

Chapter 5: You want nothing to do with him. Nanami wants to make the right decision. 

Chapter 6: You catch subtle glimpses of another side of Nanami. You both come together to meet the life you have created together. A traumatic part of your life makes itself known. 

Chapter 7: Pregnancy hormones get the best of you. You are given a big opportunity in your company. But it’s not what it seems.

Chapter 8: You deal with the fallout. An unexpected visitor puts your life in jeopardy. Nanami tries to pick up the pieces. 

Chapter 9: You make a life change and show a side of yourself that you never wanted to entertain. Nanami asks you to dinner. 

Chapter 10: You catch a glimpse of the growing life within. A home cooked meal and a searing kiss.

Chapter 11: Nanami gifts you with something that sets a new course in your life. When confessions are finally laid on the table, you both give in.

Chapter 12: A vulnerable moment with each other. A baby shower. An accident that throws Nanami’s life in disarray.

Chapter 13: You and Nanami navigate through grief.

Chapter 14: A birthday, a confession, and a new addition.

Chapter 15: You and Nanami navigate through the first months of parenthood. Nanami gives you an amazing birthday gift. A surprising encounter with someone from Nanami’s past makes you unsure of yourself.

Chapter 16:  The last person you ever wanted to see pries into your life. Nanami makes a life changing decision. Your hard work finally pays off.

Chapter 17: You work hard to bring life to something dear to Nanami.

Chapter 18: You help Nanami on the anniversary of Yu's death. Nanami finally works up his courage during a warm day of Sakura season.

Chapter 19 (Epilogue): Things finally come together.

**Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission!**

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋'𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 - gojo satoru

synopsis : burdened by the betrayal of your lover's affair, you meet a mysterious man with the strangest demeanor that beholds a scar on his right wrist and has the most beautiful, crystalline eyes. his vulnerability and sincerity stir an emotion you've long forgotten, challenging you to remember who this man exactly was in your past.

content : highly unedited due to wc. mdni. smut. she/her pronouns. afab!/fem reader. reader is smaller than gojo. mentions of suicide, death, miscarriage, and blood. infidelity. gojo has yāndere tendencies. cúnnilingus. creampíe. squirting. unprotected séx. car séx. pet names (princess, angel, baby, sweetheart). fingering. deep thrōating. missionary. manhandling. overstim. mention of baby trapping ? male masturbation. emotional/verbal abuse. mentions of audio/video recordings. Gojo uses a fake name. angst but a happy ending ◡̈ heavily inspired by ‘tears on a withered flower.’ especially with the big plot points/dialogue.

wc : 25k.... i should've split this into multiple parts.... but decided to just put it into one whole post. if it's too much for you, it's written so you can read it in multiple parts ◡̈

from ae : it's been so long since I've written anything... so I hope you guys can enjoy . love y'all !! header @/MJJ_0503 on twt

p.s. : i will not accept any slandering of the reader. if you do, I'll block you. Not all readers need to be boss ladies and independent. it's fictional writing, so become the character.

Grandma used to tell you stories about the demons that lurk at night. She would bewitchingly share in a calm voice, where even the hottest of summers felt cold during those darkest of nights whenever she told this story with her frail fingers brushing against your cheeks as you stayed hidden under the blankets. 

The Devil’s hours.

“They wait for their next victim in the dark,” she warned, her face devoid of playful gestures, yet her lips threatened to twitch when she witnessed your facade flood with a multitude of expressive emotions, “they wait just for the right time for people to become weak, and it’s only then…!” she would startle you, always with the same threat of tickles and peppers of kisses.

“They’ll devour and spit out the bones of any disobedient children that don’t listen to their Obachan,” pinching your nose before placing a soft goodnight kiss on your forehead, “so young lady, I hope I don’t hear of any silly business during the night coming from your room.”

“But Obachan, I always listen to you!” cheerfully retaliating with only your face peeping through the blankets, your small hands grasping against the edge of the fabric. 

“Of course, you do, my sweet pea,” your grandma's voice slowly faded, “never trust the devil —”

A distant memory dulled through your thoughts as you heard a familiar ring.

Despite being years since you’ve last heard such a tale, you should’ve known getting a text at 2:37 am never meant any good — it was called the devil’s hours for a reason. 

A sixth sense? Or was it your poor intuition? 

The whiplash of anxiety that crept through your bones the minute you heard your phone buzz, immediately woke you from any intent of possibly sleeping. 

But you guessed it couldn’t be so bad to open it. Demons were nothing but folklore, an urban legend the adults believed. 

But… Grandma was never wrong. 

And through your ignorance, that night you were faced with three misfortunes.

First, the bright light of your phone burned into your pupils, almost making it seem as if what was your deemed punishment to witness such a scene.

Second.

“Hanako,” a familiar voice moaned out, gripping her body with his face caved into her neck, clinging onto her as if she was his lifeline — his refuge. 

You could hear the sinful slapping of their sweaty skin brewing a crimson red as their naked bodies linked as one.

You can almost see the sweat dripping down his temple, his hot breath fanning over her face as her feet pushed his hips further down into her body, his throbbing cock filling her to the core.

It seemed too natural for this to have been any mistake. You wonder if he wore the cologne you’ve bought him, yet she was the one to inhale the scent of your man at night. The red claw marks of her nails scratching against his muscular back, gripping onto his heated body as his cock crashed into her repeatedly in impactful motions, her voluptuous mounds bouncing with each desperate thrust of that man — your fiance. 

Your boyfriend embarrassingly in the talks of hopefully getting married in the next year when you’ve paid all his debt, fucking another girl with desperate grunts and needy moans. Though grainy you can see his ignorance of being filmed when he sobs out her name. 

And there, clearly visible was her face smiling, taunting as she placed a mocking kiss on his shoulder, the edges of her swollen lips with lipstick smeared turned upward with a lascivious smile, her nimble fingers combing through his hair as she whispered into his ear,

“You’re mine, baby, harder!”

You should’ve known nothing good comes out of the devil’s hour. Approximately around this time was when legend states the devil roams to haunt its prey, gathering weak souls to harvest and devour during the quietest of nights. 

“Fuck you feel so good,” he groaned into her neck, biting at her skin as Hanako looked straight into the camera, “‘m close.”

Maybe he was in search of you — a pawn prepped for the demon himself to consume.

While she, as her name resounds, bloomed like a flower, shamelessly opening up herself to whom you supposed was your man.

“feels so good,” her voice elevated in pitch, her body bruised and marked while her breasts bounced with every stroke of your lover’s cock inside her, pushing her tight walls to embrace the length of your man, “you’re so big Kōji,” she bewitchingly purred. 

Yes, because surely nothing good comes from receiving a text at this time of day. With your heart thumping in your chest while your hands shake from the horror that you’ve just seen. Your world completely shattering at the crack of dawn.

A text at 2:37 A.M from an unknown number.

It’s never wise to be awake during the devil’s hours.

Force yourself to close your eyes at the least, and maybe the demons won’t rob you of your subconscious. 

For the demons lurk in the dark, voraciously starving for their next meal, reeling you into his possessions to harvest for himself.

Ding!

You hoped for an answer to this debauchery, anything to save you from this mess. 

But there you receive your last misfortune in the form of a mysterious man and a text.

From: Satoru.

Just ended work ~

See you tomorrow at the bar, angel.

—- months prior.

Your lids felt heavy. Each step up to your boss’s office felt tortuous from the lack of sleep you’ve gotten the past couple of nights. It didn’t help that your fiance hadn’t come home the night prior, nor were you getting any thoughtful response outside of his blunt answers of “busy” or “can’t talk.”

“He’s probably busy,” you reassured yourself, despite the tickling of uneasiness that energetically synergized in your heart, making you feel nauseous, as you scrolled through your last messages with him, “yea, he’s just busy.” You tried comforting yourself — a skill you’ve mastered over the lonesome years.

Kōji Nakamura, your boyfriend of thirteen years, got hired into an established company a couple of months back. It wouldn’t be out of the norm for the new hire to be front-loaded with new tasks and responsibilities, trying to learn the job while impressing his coworkers and higher-ups, attending late company dinners to pour liquor for his boss. 

Slightly jolting when you felt your phone vibrate, a short wave of expectation that threatens your mind only for disappointment to shatter all existence of hope when the sender was from anyone but him. 

From: Akiyama-san

Hello dear! No need to come in today! Someone has bought out the whole motel for the night! I’ll manage the night, so rest up.

To: Akiyama-San

No, it’s okay! I’ll still fulfill my shift — 

And before you could respond you received another text from her.

From: Akiyama-San

You’ll still be paid so don’t worry.

“Guess this is good,” you muttered under your breath as you continue your way, quickly responding to the text with a thank you, “Kōji usually comes home early today,” you sighed. Your chest felt heavy, a dull ache that resonated deeply inside from somewhere vacant and dismissed, “M-maybe I can make his favorite dish and surprise him.”

You nervously typed out, carefully curating a message that wasn’t too clingy, yet showed how much you’ve missed him — needed him.

To: My Kōji.

Will you be home for dinner today? Miss you…

Maybe tonight you could finally confess; surely, he’ll understand. He's always wanted — 

“Dress up a little, yea?” Kōji boringly berated you as he examined your clothes, giving you a moment of attention as he lied in front of the television.

“I just don’t have much,” you softly confessed, folding up his new undergarments while sitting on the floor to organize your boyfriend’s clothes.

“You know, guys don’t like it when their women wear shirts that are all stretched out and old-fashioned? Have some decency, will you? It’s embarrassing.”

“What’s wrong with what I have?” you questioned, now used to the cold banter of your fiance, “w-we just don’t have that type of leisure, Kōji…”

“There you go again bringing down the mood,” Kōji disapprovingly sighed, his attention back to the screen, “read the room, it’s not like you’re the only one working,” he murmured just loud enough for you to hear.

Your finger hovered over the send button, biting your lip as you contemplated, your heart rate ricocheting in your chest wondering if he, too, was awaiting your message, or if he’d reprimand you for bothering him while he was busy at work. 

You hoped Kōji would come early to simply be with you, for today was rather a sensitive day. A day where it feels more gloomy and weathered than usual, the type of day that pulls you down and strips you of any dignity — left to crawl on the dirt and succumb to the wounds of an unfair world.

Your mind wanders to the last memory of the photo lay hidden in a box — a secret between you and angels that took such sacred possession from you, a tale Kōji has yet to find out. 

You didn’t have the leisure to think further when your boss interrupted your inner dilemma.

“Good morning,” he welcomed you in, chuckling, “don’t just stand there, come, come and sit.”

Quickly turning off your phone and stuffing it into your pocket, you figured you could think about it later.

“Ah my apologies,” you murmured, ashamed your boss might assume negatively of your character for standing outside his door without quickly alerting him, “Good morning Ishihara-San,” you quietly sat on the couch, “is there a reason why you needed to see me, sir?”

“Ah yes,” Ishihara-San took a sip of his coffee, “I need you to do me a favor,” he let down his cup as his eyes gleamed with hope, “Not particularly a favor, but a duty?” Ishihara-San formed a crooked smile, “There’s been a request from a possible investor that he meet with someone from our company.”

You were confused as to why that had to do anything with you because your work generally consisted of inputting data, making copies for meetings, and brewing coffee for your project lead.

“Sorry sir, I’m having a hard time following why you would need to consult with me over this, there are many qualified —”

“Well… the thing is,” your boss crossed his legs and leaned back with a gentle smile, “he wants you.”

“M-me?” skeptical of such truth, weighing on the side that your boss probably heard wrong, “Are you sure, sir? I’m not one to know much — ”

“Very,” he grinned, “he was very clear about it.”

“Well, I’m sorry to say but I won’t be able to commit to such an agreement tonight,” quickly looking down as you tightened the nervous grip of your palms, “I have a prior engagement,” you solemnly confessed.

“Is it because of your part-time job?” Your boss bluntly questioned, “If that’s the issue then no need to worry, he stated you’ll be compensated generously for your time.”

“No no, not today sir,” you smiled, “I just wanted to do something nice for my fiance,”  you cracked a nervous smile, rubbing your thumbs together as a measure of self reassurance. 

“Ah, I see… Well,” exhaling a long breath, “that can’t be helped —” his phone vibrated on the coffee table, illuminating a contact name that you failed to see.

Immediately grasping hold of his phone, “If you’ll give me a second,” his expression eased with what he’d read, “well, it must be your lucky day,” your boss hummed, quickly standing up, making his way over to you. “The investor pushed forward the time, so if you go now, it’ll give you plenty of time to have your date with Kōji-san.”

“S-sir!” Your boss was unwilling to hear it as he pushed you out of his office, and gave a supportive squeeze to your shoulders. 

“I’d advise you to go now, don’t want to keep our guest waiting!”

“Who is it that I’m supposed to meet?” you quickly asked, shocked at the quick your boss was to kick you out.

“He’ll find you.” Was all the advise he gave you before sending you off.

And that’s how you end up walking up to a dimly lit bar, on a Wednesday afternoon at the center of Tokyo’s metropolitan area. It was close to the flower shop that you worked at during the weekends, and a few blocks down from the motel you were supposed to spend the night working at. It was oddly strange to come across such a place since you never had the leisure to look beyond the steps that you took ahead for work. 

“The map says this is the place,” you murmured, looking up at the sophisticated restaurant sign that illuminated brightly, which contrasted your somber, drained expression. The world looked beautiful, foreign outside your scope of reality. You immediately felt out of touch, isolated and lonely. 

The atmosphere itself felt expensive with its polished furniture and reclusive dining options for those in the upper echelon, and it certainly didn’t feel comfortable walking in with your mundane articles of clothing that dampened your features compared to those who dressed eloquently beside you.

You normally didn’t wear much makeup, nor doused yourself in perfume. Living leisurely was a luxury for you. Especially when there was a mountainous amount of debt that’s been accruing interest with each breathing moment.

Everything was shattered — dishes, cups, the beloved lamp that you’ve cautiously stored as your grandmother’s loom laid barren on the floor, lifeless yet chaotic. 

You didn’t even have the energy to cry, or the courage to breathe yet tears streamed down your face as you slumped to the floor from the recent distress of loansharks rummaging through your shared apartment, breaking anything and everything they came across. 

By default his arms tightly weaved around your stomach, his shaky breath reassuring you as he shamelessly hid his face into the crook of your neck – he too shaken from the abrupt mayhem witnessed not only but five minutes ago.

“I’m sorry, baby,” his voice felt shaky under his breath, “i’m so so sorry,” he repeatedly confessed as you woefully cried in your distress.

… “When we pay this off,” his tears pooled on your shoulder, “let’s get married, yea? I promise… I’ll make you happy.”

That was already five years ago you mindlessly thought while scanning the room, looking for the stranger that you had to accompany for a possible business investment while absentmindedly touching your ring finger still vacant of any promise of marriage. 

“Find me?” you questioned your boss’s words, “how does he know me?”

You wondered who this person could be that they were adamant that it had to be you. Was it a past acquaintance? No, you didn’t know anyone in such authority, albeit someone powerful enough to invest money into a company.

Or was it a debt collector? No… they haven’t been showing up since you’ve been paying them promptly. 

Maybe it was some old freak that you encountered at work? You come across those occasionally. Asking for sexual favors while drunk, when all you’re paid to do was assign them a motel room and hand them the key, wishing them a good night. 

The job paid well, and Akiyama-san was a nice older lady. You were in no circumstance to contemplate if a job was worth sticking through or not when there was a pile of debt to be paid by the end of each month. 

You best decided it would be better to keep your guards up, whoever it was… he wasn’t someone to be trusted.

“Found you,” a deep voice whispered behind you.

Quickly turning your head to see a white haired man, looking at you through his sunglasses, the hint of his cologne was hypnotizing.

“My,” his voice was sultry and enticing, like a predator luring in his prey, looming from the heights as you flinched at the sudden attention, his face dangerously close to yours, “you’re even more beautiful up close,” the stranger whispered, his eyes landing to your lips. 

“Excuse me?” you fastidiously grasped hold of your ear in shock from the impending behavior of this odd stranger.

“My apologies, I didn’t intend to scare my future business partner,” he smiled, still craning down to meet your height as his face level with yours, his cerulean eyes mildly covered by his sunglasses as he scanned your face,, “let’s just say I like pretty things.” his canines sparkled under the light.

You looked up, immediately locking with his eyes, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest — intense yet soft lazuline and deep, an abyss filled with wonders, tempting you into it. There was something oddly familiar in those eyes that you couldn’t quite pinpoint as he stared back at you, it held something that you couldn’t understand. 

Taking a step back, unable to hold eye contact with such intensity as you clutched your chest, you held out your hand to properly introduce yourself. This is work you reminded yourself of. Ishihara-san would be displeased if I was rude to a potential asset to the company.

“Hello, I’m —”

“Acting so formal,” the man plopped down on the counter seat, his veinous forearms showing with his shirt properly buttoned to his elbow, propped out on the edge under his large coat, “sit, I don’t bite.”

Strange. He was most definitely unusual.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you softly stated before carefully sitting next to the man, quickly noticing his features.

He was big — heads taller than you. His stature was prominent, more defined than a models when he simply wore a black dress shirt with a couple of buttons undone, black slacks slightly more fitting on his thighs with a belt that accentuated his thin waist, an expensive-looking watch with shoes perfectly buffed. 

His hair was anything you’ve seen. White with a shine that made it obliterating graceful, tempting to run your hands through, the polish slightly undone to create a lightly distressed look, yet still exquisitely showed his forehead. 

He was probably in his 30s, yet he could outperform any man in their prime with the stature and face card that he’s got.

But his eyes, you couldn’t get yourself to think outside of the deep depth of power his eyes relayed. It was as if you were the one missing the piece, while he, a total stranger, knew everything there was to be about you. And you noticed, the scar under his right wrist probably feigned a deep, dark memory for him that pained your heart for this stranger. 

But again, this was solely business. 

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat, “just to make sure…” your heart still pounded, “are you the one Ishihara-san told me about?”

“Depends on what he’s told you about,” he lightly hummed, a small smile forming on his glossy lips.

“That you were looking to invest in our company?”

“An investment you say,” he chuckled as he turned his body around to face you, his cheeks resting on his palm, “well… I guess, you can say that.”

“What do you mean —”

“Yamakage,” he cut you off to introduce himself, “Satoru, if you’d like to get more personal, I wouldn’t mind,” he flirted. 

Responding with heat to your cheeks, you gave him your name despite unknowing how to correctly respond to his proactive engagement of flirting in a business meeting, “Nice to meet you, Yamakage-san.”

“Yeah, I already know. It’s pretty,” he admitted. His innocuous tone felt something more as if he was agreeing at the foreknowledge of your name, or if he was simply playing with you, you weren’t sure. “Your name, it’s pretty.”

You couldn’t brush off the fact he felt so familiar, like a lost acquaintance that you should remember. Like a faint memory, his presence teased your senses. 

“H-How do you know my name?” you found the courage to ask, quickly embarrassed at the question when Ishihara-san most likely informed him of his employee’s name, “ah I’m sorry for the stupid question… Ishihara-san probably told you.”

“I’m hurt,” Satoru pouted, a faint tease to his voice as he nonchalantly stared at you, “that you don’t remember me.”

“Have we met before?” you cautiously asked, worried that you’d upset him, possibly bearing a hindrance to the business deal.

“Of course,” he sighed, stretching out his long legs, caging your seated form as he easily scooted you closer in, “many times, in fact.” Again, whether it was a habit of his to speak to people so intimately, staring deep into their eyes, it was a fact that he was dangerously too close. 

“‘M sorry,” you murmured, shy from the intensity of his eyes, “But I don’t seem to remember —”

You saw his eyes stop at a certain area of your face as you spoke, his gaze shortly fixated on the small scar you had just below your right eye. You swore you saw his jaws clench for a brief moment, before softening up when he answered you.

“The flower shop,” he answered, his face easing up with a sing-song tone.

Your ears perked up at his statement, questioning if someone like him had ever guested the shop.

“You work there every weekend, right?” Satoru continued, “Tell me, what must I do to get your attention next time?”

You distantly remember your coworker speaking highly of a man who would come every weekend, oftentimes pointing him out whenever he would walk through the doors. You faintly remember a white-haired man who would buy a bouquet of roses every time, but if you were frankly honest, you didn’t quite care who came in. A customer is a customer, and time was money. You had Kōji and bills to pay, and that’s all that should matter. Remembering each customer that you’ve met was impossible with the multiple jobs you juggled. 

“I-I’ll make it a point to remember you,” you tried making him feel better, the beating of your chest thumping loudly. It wouldn’t be a surprise if he could hear your heart by how close he was sitting, “I hope my rudeness doesn’t impede in your decision to invest in our company.”

“I hear you as making a promise,” Satoru chuckled, amused at your priorities to win over this deal, “promises are a dangerous thing to make, you know?” His words felt like a double edge sword with the way he stared at you so intensely. 

“I simply wouldn’t want to disappoint my boss.” you honestly confessed.

“I see,” he hummed, “a businessman never forgets a promise, you know?” his words sounded like a threat, yet his demeanor was far from it. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you answered, “is there anything I can do for you?”

As if he’s been waiting for your invitation, Satoru slides his phone towards you with a cheeky smile, “Your number, that’s a great start.”

You type in your number, handing it over to him as he receives it with a smirk. Simultaneously his bodyguards quickly stand from across the bar, whispering in his ear and briefly bowing before making their way out.

“What a shame,” the mysterious man stated while standing up, a hint of impatience in his voice, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my leave now. I have some rather annoying business to take care.”

“Wait —Yamakage-San!” you quickly uttered, surprised as your hand immediately grasped hold of his forearm, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” he stated, pleased at the physical contact, as he glanced at your small hand grabbing hold of him.

“Is there a reason why you wanted to meet with me specifically?” still clueless as to why he asked for you when nothing was resolved in terms of this deal besides him getting your phone number. 

Grasping hold of your hand, it felt warm, mildly calloused yet perfectly groomed and unblemished. Lifting it up to place a gentle kiss on the back, his lips felt soft as you assumed, “I just want to get to know you, that’s all.”

——

Kōji knew it was wrong. He wasn’t brainless to know cheating on you was, in fact, wrong. It wasn’t something he planned on doing when he entered the company. The relationship started on a curious note. She was just so different from you and she itched a part of himself that he’s longed for you to embrace. To a drunken mistake after a company dinner, one thing led to another, and here he was with his cock shamelessly embraced by her warm insides, his hands molding her ass as he fucked her in the steamy car. 

It was a shame right before fucking her, it was so easy to eat at your favorite restaurant that he’s failed to take you in years — with an old acquaintance a couple of years shy of both yours and his from college, Hanako Miwayaki. 

No one at his company knew he was in a relationship before getting hired. Ever so, he was the handsome bachelor that his superiors tried to nudge him and the pretty, and young Miwayaki-san that feigned interest in him the moment he started, from getting together. 

“I—I love you!” she managed to whimper out through their exchange of sloppy kisses, her long fingers grasping hold of his hair as she continued to press her body onto his naked torso, “Kōji more!”

Kōji held her hips close as he watched how his slick-coated shaft would go in and out of her swollen entrance, silently cursing at how warm she felt around him. 

“Fuck,” Kōji cursed under his breath, simultaneous to how he gently squeezed one of her mounds, the grip of her pussy suffocating him even more, “keep going, just like that,” he unabashedly confessed.

But all Kōji could think of, despite the woman he held in his arms tonight, was you. It would always strike a nerve whenever he would open his eyes, instead of Hanako who appealed to his desires and easily spread her legs for him, he would suffocatingly see a glimpse of you. 

And that made him want to fuck Hanako even more. 

“K-Kōji” she would sweetly moan for his name, pleased to see her lover rutting his shaft into her. Such a sight was enough for him to go crazy over, wanting nothing but to do this all night until they had satiated themselves with the reciprocity of love and lust combined. 

Hanako had a mesmerizing beauty. And her skin was always perfect under her makeup. She smelled rich and always wore clothes that highlighted her hourglass figure, unlike you, who’d wear loose articles of clothing like an old lady. 

Her breasts fit into the palm of his hands, but they seemed to always lack a certain something compared to yours. He thought it was a shame how he’d never noticed her before. Maybe he would’ve if all he’d ever known wasn’t you — his first love since high school. 

The car quickly filled with a stench of lust. The windows were tainted with fog as the two of them filled themselves with one another. 

Hanako started to mewl at how rough her boyfriend was being, the increase in his pace was too unbearable to last a second further when her impending orgasm was threatening to release. 

“Ngh!” she managed to let out, with Kōji's cock pistoling inside her, his movements becoming uneven while spurts of his seed collected inside his condom.

“I wanna feel you without it,” Hanako pouted with her boyfriend’s face buried in the crook of her neck, further planting herself down his member, intentionally clenching on his overstimulated cock. With their chests panting for heavy breaths after their rendezvous, she was pleased to hear his groaning as his arms further embraced her tightly, “don’t you want to feel better, Kōji?” she tried persuading like shaking her spanked ass.

“We’re not kids, don’t be so reckless,” Kōji huffed out, unaware of the irony to his words while looking up at the ceiling, irked that you’d ask him to always wear a condom when —

“You’re no fun,” Hanako lifted herself to cup his sweaty face, her lips feverishly kissing her partner. Her tongue soon entering his mouth where the hot flesh swirled sinfully with his. 

She smiled when she felt his cock hardened again inside her. “Kōji,” Hanako bit his lower lip, teasingly looking down through her lashes as she pulled herself from his member, reaching down to pull off the used condom. 

“Let’s go up to my apartment.”

Kōji knew he shouldn’t. He didn’t come home the day prior, and you’d probably be stupidly waiting for him.

“I can’t tonight —”

Her lips crashed onto his again, a threatening message that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer, “You’re going to send away your poor girlfriend to sleep all alone at night?”

It’s not like you would entice him and want him like Hanako did. So what was the point of keeping some sort of loyalty to you when he’s just fooled around with another woman?

“Fuck it,” he groaned before quickly zipping up his pants, ignoring Hanako’s giggle as she led him up the stairs, practically prancing in her skirt with no panties underneath, uncaring of the person that may have seen such wretched acts he’s committed. 

After all, it was shameless what he was doing. And Kōji knew it. Because his thoughts weren’t of the woman he just had sex with, but it was filled with thoughts of you letting him slide his tip along your entrance. 

As he mixed his body with Hanako, he thought of ramming his cock inside your tight, warm cunt, squeezed magically by your plush, velvet walls. 

And as he kissed her, his thoughts were full of how your breasts would wildly bounce as he continued to hit your most sensitive spot, deeply inside. 

Would you let him take you on all fours, just like how he had Hanako currently positioned? Ass up and breasts planted to the mattress? 

Despite Hanako being deliciously naked before him, with his aching member ramming inside her, penetrating her tight insides until it becomes swollen and dripping with his cum, he hears your voice, oh so faintly as Hanako breathlessly moans, “I-I love you.”

——

It wasn’t common for Kōji to not come for the night. 

You wondered if he was alright as you sat alone in your apartment, with his favorite meal cooked you’ve splurged to make, dipping into your personal expenses — miso soup with grilled unagi. 

You felt awfully lonely despite living inside a small apartment, and everything felt foreign and distant without him there with you. There wasn’t much you owned, just the absolute essential. But it somehow always lacked a vital piece that would make you feel more at ease.

Him, you thought as tears coated your eyes. 

You would often wonder where things went possibly wrong, and how you could fix it. But every time you would contemplate, you were stuck on finding the answer.

Your phone brightly illuminated the dark room. Your eyes blurry from the tears, you quickly brushed them off with your sleeve. It pricked at your sensitive skin at how tattered the cloth had become. 

From an unknown sender

This is Satoru.

It’s a rather beautiful night!

Sends a picture of the brightened moonlit sky.  Hope you sleep well tonight >_< It was nice to finally meet you.

And just when you were about to save his number, a single text popped up, immediately crushing your heart into pieces.

From: My Kōji.

Gonna be late. Don’t wait for me.

—- a month since meeting Satoru.

If you were to say it was a coincidence that would be wrong because how many coincidences can there be to be a blatant fact that you might have a stalker?

“Yamakage-san,” you breathlessly stated as you almost ran into his chest, carrying multiple cups of coffee for your coworkers. 

“You okay?” he chuckled, easily taking the cups from you with his large hands, “but fancy seeing you here,” he stated while looking down from his height at your disheveled self, quickly noticing something. 

“Y-you scared me.” Your cheeks felt hot as adrenaline rushed through your body.

“Didn’t mean to do that,” Satoru chuckled as he put down the coffee, leading you to a seat before crouching down on one knee and tying your undone shoelaces.

“I- I can do that!” you tried to quickly swat his hands away, embarrassed at how many people were staring at the modelesque man being such a gentleman.

“I know you can. But let me.” His voice felt warm, caring almost. “Don’t want you tripping and falling over my good looks, do we?” he looked up, winking as he finished the knot. You noticed the scar again on his wrist, mutely blemishing his pale skin. It was hard to notice under his watch, but prominent enough for it to catch your attention. 

“It must've hurt…” you quietly mumbled to yourself. 

Or the instance when you were checking a customer out at the convenience store, giving them the total only to look up to see a silent man in a dark helmet, tall with wide shoulders, comforted in casual clothing as he slid his phone onto the counter.

Have you fallen for me yet? :P

“Yamakage-san,” you sighed out, “it’s dangerous to ride a motorcycle when it’s this dark. Are you coming from work?”

Your words took you aback. 

Were you being too meddling? It’s a bit ridiculous to suddenly intervene when he was a grown adult. You nervously bit your lip if you overstepped your boundaries. Stupid, of course, he’s coming from home, look at his clothes. 

“Something like that.” Pulling his helmet off, shaking his messy hair perfectly to look styled. “Then what should I do?” he asked with a playful smile, his hands grasping the counter as he leaned forward.

“Tell me,” he pressed, unbreaking eye contact, “I’ll be good and listen well.”

Turning your face away, you murmured, “Just be careful —” your eyes looking down to see his scar again, ”it’s easy to get hurt at night.”

His eyes immediately locate your attention on his wrist. And that did a number to him that he didn’t quite expect. You probably didn’t see the murderous grip he had on the counter, the throbbing pulse of his crotch suffocating in his pants as he clenched his jaw, doing whatever the hell he could, to contain himself from taking you as hostage and keeping you — all of you — for himself. 

But you’d probably not like it. And he couldn’t afford to do that, so that was enough for him to swallow his thick, adrenaline induced saliva down his parched throat as he restrained himself from acting like a maniac. 

Completely unaware and unsuspecting of the lascivious thoughts this man had of you, Satoru smirked as he lifted up the hem of his sleeve, showing more of his scar as your eyes widened. 

So fucking cute. 

His sharp canines glistened as he let out a handsome yet pestiferous smile. Satoru didn’t even bother hiding the corners of his lips from twitching. “It doesn't hurt, you know?” further pulling up his sleeve for you to get a better view, “you can even touch it, if you don’t believe me, angel.”

Lifting your trembling finger to gently touch his skin, “H-how’d you get it?” you cautiously asked hoping you weren’t overbearing.  

“I tried killing myself.” Satoru bluntly stated, shrugging as he watched your finger glide against his skin. 

In a split moment a static memory flashes before you.

“Onii-chan,” your small hands reach over to grasp the hand of a boy couple years older than you, patched up with bandages with tears welled up in his eyes as he stood over the rooftop ledge, “Obachan said that’s very dangerous! You’ll get a big owie when you fall.”

You're brought back to the present, shocked at the sudden memory you had.

What the hell was that? 

Satoru’s face was indiscernible from where you stood. His soft blue eyes still magnificently sparkled, and his lips held the prettiest shade of pink. The wisps of his bangs, contrary to his usual updo style, hid a portion of his expression that you weren’t able to decipher. 

What were you supposed to do? What can you possible say? 

But before you could register, you asked him a simple response. 

With unexpected tears dwelling in your eyes for the man in front of you. “Are you still hurting?” 

For a brief moment everything within Satoru became still. The universe felt like it stopped spinning on axis, and the balance of the world had become altered. It was you — you had substantial power over him. And Satoru couldn’t help but feel euphoric, a deep sense of bliss brewing from the most inward portions, like a symphony building up to a fortissimo, Satoru couldn’t help but belted out a laugh. 

You weren’t entirely sure if he was crazy, or if he was portraying a trauma response, but despite his rambunctious laughter, Satoru, like you, lived a life masked in pain. 

“Yama —” Without waiting for your response, Satoru jokingly wiped off a tear, “I’m joking, princess. I’m too handsome for that.”

“You’re the worst,” you muttered before quickly turning away to finish restocking the aisles, “this is why you don’t have a girlfriend at your age,” you snapped at him. 

Following behind like a puppy, wagging it’s tale waiting for his playtime, his height practically swallowing you, “sure… that’s valid,” nodding his head as he pursed his lips.  “But, I think,” stepping closer, until completely cornering you so that you were forced to see eye to eye with him, “ that’s a you problem, princess.” Pinching your nose as his minty, cool breath brushed through your cheeks.

“But look at you!” His expression gleaming with his voice raised at a higher, teasing pitch, “worrying about me! I’m so touched!” tightly wrapping you in his strong arms, knocking the wind out of your lungs. 

…

Or the other instance, just yesterday, when you met him on a rainy day, outside the flower shop just as you were about to make your way home. 

“Are you stalking me?” Your words mindlessly left your lips. You’ve grown rather comfortable with the once stranger, now, unknowingly expecting his presence. 

“Would you want me to do that?” He stepped forward, smirking in mischief as his height loomed over you, droplets of water dripping from his white bangs, his words testing you. “It’s quite easy to do that.”

It was undeniable you’ve grown accustomed to this man. Despite meeting him no more than a month prior, he felt rather comfortable. Like an old friend you’ve rekindled a friendship with. 

Yamakage-San was kind. He was attentive and thoughtful. His words oftentimes left you speechless with his abrash ways of flirting, but he was nonetheless gentle with you. The way his fingers would lightly brush against your skin felt like a tease. And how he would attentively listen despite when you had nothing interesting to say, made you feel seen. 

He somehow was filling an empty void Kōji left vacant, and you subconsciously allowed a stranger you’ve met so shortly to fill that spot. 

And how could you forget the texts he sends with unexpectedly cute emoticons even though you rarely respond back? 

It was a lie to say he was simply handsome. He looked unreal. With his tall height and slender figure, packed on with muscles under his tight collar shirt, it didn’t take an artist to imagine the intricate details of his finely sculpted body underneath his clothes. 

“Mind if I walk you home?” he softly asked, taking a step closer to button up your coat from the cold. You could almost smell his faint cologne as you looked at his feet placed right next to your smaller set.

“Will you leave if I say no?”

“Mhm,” he softly responded, “I told you I’ll listen and be good.”

You looked up at him. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, maybe that’s why his eyes seemed to sparkle even more. And it made your heart rapidly beat in your chest upon seeing his eyes again.

Strange, you thought when felt your stomach tickle.

“Only up to the bus stop,” you murmured, “Kōji didn’t take an umbrella so I have  —” You felt a sense of guilt when you said your boyfriend’s name. There shouldn’t be a reason to feel as such, but oddly you felt something tug at your heart when his name left your lips.

“Sure. Guess he forgot his umbrella?” Satoru was quick to respond, “ he’s lucky to have you,” he offered a sweet smile before opening up his umbrella and inviting you over.

Despite his long legs, Satoru walked rather slowly. Unlike Kōji, where you had to catch up to his speed, this man seemed to carefully walk at your pace, maybe even slower to stand slightly behind you. 

From your peripheral, you could see his right shoulder drenched from the rain. Yet, not a droplet of water hit you.

“How tall are you?” You managed to break the silence. Kōji was tall, but Satoru felt even taller. “Are you over 6'0"?”

“I haven’t measured myself, but most likely.” He answered while glancing down at you, “Why? Do you know a lot about men’s heights?”

Of course, being together with Kōji for nine years, you knew a thing or two about men.

“Mhm,” you nodded, ignorant of the slight annoyance on Satoru’s face.

“you're making me jealous.” Satoru gripped the umbrella handle, clenching his jaws before you made a stop to lightly tug at his coat to get his attention, innocently trying to make him feel better. “Don’t be! You’re the tallest person I know, Yamakage-san!”

You hear a honk from behind. soon water splashed towards you as a dark vehicle drove by. And in that split second, you're suddenly caged in his arms, your cheeks resting on his strong chest. 

That was scary and dangerous for anyone to be driving at such a speed, you mentally scolded the reckless driver.

You felt his voice vibrating through his pectorals, his body pressing against yours. “I’m big, huh?”

Wait. huh? What is this —? 

“Excuse me?” Your cheeks heat up when you realize the compromising position you are both in, immediately pushing him when you feel the curve of his crotch firmly outlining against your stomach. “Sorry! Yamakage — ” You quickly removed yourself, your hands pushing against his damp coat soiled from the dirt that the car rudely splashed while driving off. 

“No need, just saying that my chest is big,” he teased before wiping a droplet of rain that fell onto your cheeks, “also how about you drop the honorifics? I think we’re far past that, especially when you willingly put your cheeks on my chest and I just sacrificed my life for you.”

“I did not,” you embarrassingly coughed, emphasizing his name, “and Yamakage-san, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Boo,” he rolled his eyes before, “and they say chivalry is dead when I practically saved you just now,” the grown man mumbled under his breath, pouting as he continued to walk at your slow pace. 

Satoru could see the bus stop was nearby, but off in the corner, he saw something that piqued his interest. A couple running under the rain, sharing a small umbrella much similar to him with you. 

And if there was another thing your grandma taught you was that there’s no such thing as a coincidence. Everything is a result of a decision — good or bad. 

“We’re almost here —” your voice suddenly faints when you catch what Satoru was looking at. 

The heavy rain may have caused your vision to become blurry, but it was easy to mask the tears that suddenly welled up in your eyes. A rush of emotions and thoughts ran through your head, the insecurities and doubts that you’ve been pushing off to the side, were now forced in front of you to acknowledge.

“Kōji…” you quietly whispered as you watched your fiance intimately running into a shop with a woman tightly embracing his arm.

Your heart hurt, melting into inexplicable pain as you watched him fondle another woman with such care and diligence as he wiped off the rain from her cheeks, and shoulders, smiling proudly with his cheeks a tint of rose from the cold.

You missed him, of course you did. That much more, it was harder to witness him looking so happy, knowing despite your efforts to reconnect and act like nothing strained your relationship with him, the pain was always there, stabbing you to the core.

Yet the only thing you could do was to look away. Trusting that it was simply a coworker Kōji was being courteous too. 

And your companion stood next to you, eyes void of emotion despite his impatience brewing as he watched you be soft to that thing when you were hurting because of it. Satoru couldn’t understand why you’d chose to waste your tears on such trash.

Licking his lips, he wished you would cry for him. Maybe if he pushed it further,  you would. Then maybe he’ll have a chance at comforting you… but then again, that would scare you, and he didn’t want to do that. Especially not, when it took him so long.

Looking off in the far corner, his assistant stood in the rain, bowing to signal he’s concluded his duties, before taking off in a black car. 

——

As usual, Kōji came home late. Throwing down his briefcase, he grumbled at how wet his suit had gotten as he stripped himself to go into the shower, leaving a trail of his clothes behind for you to pick up.

And as he surpassed you, you got a whiff of a fragrant scent that was foreign to you. A woman’s perfume — it’s her, your intuition alerted you. 

Ever since you saw him smiling at the other woman, that was the one thing that plagued your mind, and you didn’t have the courage to ask him.

“Did you get a new cologne?” Your lips trembled as you asked. Hoping, internally praying, he wouldn’t say anything to prove your cheating allegations.

“Yea, from a friend,” he bluntly answered, turning the faucet for his shower. 

“Kōji.” His name naturally rolled off your lips, and in response, his head whirled towards you in less than a second. “Is it hard at work? Y-you’ve been coming home late these days,” you muttered. 

For a brief moment Kōji looked expectant before his eyes quickly dulled out, now purposefully avoiding your gaze. At the moment, he wasn’t feeling guilty in the slightest, but the contortion of his visage as he answered you before going into the shower told you otherwise. 

“Took you long enough to ask.”

“Yea… he’s just tired,” you reminded yourself, “I need to do better.” 

——

You weren’t necessarily the best at responding to his messages. Hell, he didn’t even expect you to. Just knowing you’ve read them was more than enough for him.

Satoru said he’ll be patient. That he’ll wait until your relationship with your boyfriend came to it’s rightful end. He’s waited till now, what’s a couple more going to do to him — kill him?

But something in him presses as his consciousness, continually scratching at the memory of you secretly trying to brush off your precious tears as you nibbled on your lips to stifle the sob as you watched your beloved boyfriend prance around with his mistress. And that fucking irked him beyond rationality. 

Everything dulled out around him. He couldn’t even hear the calling of his name from his best friend as he stared at his phone, drinking his hard liquor as he peered at the delivered message that had yet to alert “read” like usual. 

“You good Satoru?” the raven hair asked, curious as to what soured his friend’s mood. 

“I’ve been getting ignored.” Satoru dully expresses, gripping his glass cup causing his knuckles to turn white as he wonders why you’ve been getting distant. 

“From her?” Sitting next to him as he sighed, Suguru shook his head in disbelief, already knowing the answer, “You gotta let her go man… it’s unhealthy.”

“What do you know,” Satoru hissed through his teeth. If Suguru wasn’t his best friend, his face would’ve been knocked out by now, hell maybe something even worse could’ve happened. 

He thought you’d both had gotten a bit closer, but seeing those tears… you were still endlessly soft toward the pathetic fuck. And now you don’t even read his messages. 

“You,” Satoru pointed at the well-dressed man standing in the back of the entourage, “have you killed someone before?” 

“Uh, no, sir.” His assistant stuttered at the sudden question, “well, I wasn’t informed that I would be involved in anything like that, sir.” 

“Boyfriend?” Hanako’s boss curiously asked while sitting at his table. Her boss had an unusual talent to sneak up into places without a sound despite his tall frame. It was even more strange how no one in the company ever saw or heard of him — only Hanako and his assistants.

The rumours that floated around of the mysterious VP that would silently dominate his rivals with his dashing good looks and wicked smile. Forcing them to their knees in submission as he got whatever he wanted.

“H-huh?” surprised at him looking down at her, cutting out a picture, hurriedly throwing a piece of it into the trash, “a-ah yes, sir…” she blushed at her confession. 

“You both look good together,” the man smiled, “handsome man, too,” he complimented, stretching out his legs as he sat on her desk, “I didn’t know you were dating all this time, Miwayaki-San.”

The photo looked partially aged, definitely wasn’t within the last couple of years. Hanako looked much younger and brighter, clinging onto a man as she beamingly smiled without a care in the world.

“We’ve kindled our love. I’m hoping that he proposes soon —”

“And the girl in the trash, Miwayaki-San?” her boss lowly chuckled, “is she the third person in the relationship?”

Embarrassed that he’s seen her petty act of cutting out the woman who stood rightfully at her boyfriend’s side, “s-she’s no one!” Hanako stammered before reaching down to grasp the crumbled photo, only for her boss to quickly retrieve it. Handsomely winking, yet his voice sounded harsh, “I’ll throw it away for you. Don’t want anyone to misunderstand, do we, Miwayaki-San.”

“Ah… Thank you Gojo-san.”

It wasn’t like he was never going to find you. But if it wasn’t for his foolish secretary, it might've taken longer him than expected. Guess paying her generously beyond her skillset was worth the investment.

It was easy running a background check on you with a simple photo — your address, your job, friends, family, and the one that pissed him off the most, Kōji. 

Guess the gods were finally on his side because It’s been 20 years since he’s last seen you.

“So you can’t?” Satoru boringly stared at the man, his blood fuming inside from the lack of patience that he’d been tested with, his voice venomous to anyone who struck against him.

“I’ve never done anything of such a nature but if I handle it well and receive proper compensation…” This is what Satoru liked to hear. “I’ll do my best to not disappoint you.”

Satoru started maniacally laughing, head thrown back on the couch as he manspread on the seat, the tip of his black socks peeking underneath his tight slacks. Pleased at the newbie's courage, despite seeing him tremble as he said each word, cocking his head to the side as his eyes peered at him. “relax, it’s a joke.”

“Satoru you’re scaring —” Suguru tried to ease the tension, utterly failing when his friend immediately stands up.

“I’m leaving, it’s boring here.” Satoru dismissed himself, before turning back to Suguru, “The bill’s on you.”

Throwing back a middle finger, Suguru sighed as he took a whiff of his cigarette. 

“You don’t think he’s being serious right,” the newbie cautiously asked Suguru.

Sighing as he shook his head, “I don’t know…” he honestly confessed.

…

“Fuck.” Satoru threw his head back, his head spinning from the bottles of alcohol he’d just had. Just one response, that’s all he needed to not go completely insane and overthrow all of Japan. He had the power, and it wasn’t like he had any conscience to care for anyone else. All he needed was you.

Closing his eyes, Satoru took a deep breath as he slowly stroked his hardened member, his hand moving on its own accord, feeling every ridge of length as he pleasured himself. 

He remembered your plump lips, teasing him whenever you would give him the faintest of smiles. The way your body felt natural in his hold, and almost perfect as he stood besides you. He swore he felt electricity pumping through his body whenever his fingers would lightly graze against your soft skin.

Satoru let out a moan — gluttonous and unapologetic as he continued to jerk himself off faster, rougher as he called out your name. 

He remembers the scar on your lower right lid. It looked beautiful to him and made him almost bust a nut when he saw it the night of the reunion. And your eyes still sparkled just like he last remembered. 

He would treat you better, crawl on the floor in areas you’ve graced yourself if you wanted that. 

You drew him utterly mad — insane and crippled.

You’ve grown so beautifully. Breathtaking. The little girl that followed him around, had become a woman more lovely than the most expensive gem, and more delicate than any flower. 

His mind wandered off in thoughts of you letting him slide his tip along your entrance.  Would you let him ram his cock inside your tight cunt, being squeezed by your soft, velvet walls. 

He wondered how your breasts would wildly bounce as he continued to hit your most sensitive spot. Fuck. Would you scream for him to go faster, guiding him in the right path to find your secret spot?

Do you prefer to be pounded from behind, thighs shaking as he takes you on all fours. Or would you rather ride his hardened shaft, rolling your hips as your juices coated his abdomen. 

Do you like it when he’s got you pressed against the sofa with your legs above his shoulders, letting you milk his cock with the tightness of your cunt. Satoru would release his warm seed into you in every position if he could. He would shoot every drop of his cum straight to your womb, no doubt impregnating you if that’s what you wanted. 

He would like that. 

He would love seeing the residues of his wanton desire for you seeping out of your pussy, using his finger to push back his seeds into you, because he couldn’t afford to waste any chance to impregnate you.

Satoru thought it would be nice to see you cry. The idea of you weeping in his arms as he hugged you till you stopped, adorning you with love as your lips let out the most gluttonous moans. It fueled his blood, causing him to gasp at the closeness of his release.

Would you cry for him? Globular, fat tears streaming down your face as he pumped himself into you. Oh what he would give just to kiss those tears away. His hand feverishly stroked his heated member instead as he gripped a fist and gluttonously moaned in the shower. His white brows furrowed while panting through his mouth. 

His stomach clenched, beautifully flexing the tight muscles in his abdominals, the tip of his head now a fiery red as his slit leaked of shiny fluid.

Maybe if he hurt you, you would cry and lean on him.

Looking at his right wrist, seeing the scar on his skin, he remembers your expression when seeing it. A monumental moment — the first time he’s every felt grateful for it. Your worried look as you ever so lightly grazed your finger along it, scared to almost touch him thinking it’ll hurt him — bewitchingly foolish — was more pleasurable than he imagined. 

This scar — it didn’t hurt, he has no association to pain anymore — especially when you were the greatest memory he has from it.

But he wondered if he pressed you more on it, would you pity him?

ahh fuck he wishes he could see your face again. Droplets of tears streaming down your face as you kiss his old wound, your tender lips brushing against his skin. 

But he couldn’t do that. And Satoru releases himself, hot strokes of cum ejaculating out of his throbbing cock. His precious seeds that should be painting your insides full of him were instead coating the dark, granite shower walls with splurts of thick white.

Satoru would never do that to you.

Chuckling at himself as he rested his head on his forearm, feeling lightheaded from the bliss, “I like you too much to do that.”

And if he couldn’t, then someone else could do that for him.

“Gojo-san,” his secretary walked into this office, “I was wondering if you’ve seen my phone here.” Satoru quickly closes his laptop as he cluelessly looks at her.

Hanako had lost her phone a couple of days back. He’s seen her frantically looking for it the days prior, but with no clue of its last use, Hanako decided to ask Satoru if he’d seen it by chance. She swore she faintly remembered her boss’s office being the last place she saw her phone.

“No, I’m sorry,” Satoru sounded apologetic, even walking around his office to look for her lost phone. “‘It must had some important files in there, seeing you so worried.”

“Uhm yes.” Gojo saw her biting her lipstick-coated lips, bile forming in his throat as he tried his best to compose himself. 

“If I see it, I’ll let you know. But if you’d excuse me, I’m expecting a call soon,” Satoru calmly stated with a smile.

“Oh right!” Hanako bowed to her superior, “I would greatly appreciate it if you could.”

Watching his secretary leave his room, Gojo’s eyes immediately go to the multitude of files — videos, and pictures — downloading on his laptop, his interest piquing to a certain shameful video of Hanako and Kōji mixing their bodies as one.

A pleased smile forms, one that incites joy in his heart, causing his fingers to tremble in ecstasy as he implants a tracking and audio recording device into her phone.

His legs shake in anticipation, palms starting to sweat as he waits for the ‘Download is completed.’ message to pop up before sending it off to his beautiful yet unsuspecting recipient tonight.

you.

no, he would never make you cry. never, but he’ll be the devil in sheep’s clothing to get what he wants, because, in the end, he’ll be your savior.

because no one is worth having you, but him.

——

It’s been a few weeks since that rainy day. And though Kōji has frequently come home late, he managed to find time to spend occasional dinners with you. 

“What are you cooking?” His arms snaked around your waist, droplets of water dripping from his hair, slightly pooling at your thin shirt as he rested his chin on your shoulder. 

“Miso soup.” You stated, unknowingly squirming when you felt his thick crotch press upon on your ass, his firm chest securing you from behind. You couldn’t deny it, he still felt irresistibly so warm. 

“Want me to taste it?” It wasn’t unusual for Kōji to taste test your food, he enjoyed doing so. It gave him a sense of domesticity and a brief insight into what marriage would be like with you. 

“It’s hot.” warning him before he remotely answered, “then cool it for me,” he responded, his lips gently grazing against your neck as he softly breathed near your ear. 

Nodding you blew on the soup, carefully cooling it down before presenting it to your boyfriend to taste. 

Taking a sip, Kōji, too, felt warm with you. “It’s good,” he complimented, tightening his arms around your waist as he lightly bit your shoulder, “my girlfriend is sure a good cook.” 

“You okay?” worried by his voice as he hid his face into your neck, firmly holding you from looking back at him. 

“When…” Kōji muttered, a strange wave of emotion fueling from his core as he held onto his beloved fiance — the boring, kind you who would do anything for him. “When the debt is all paid, let’s get married.”

Kōji didn’t say those words out of guilt — far from it, he meant it. The reason he said words he normally wouldn’t say, wasn’t because he felt shame for being unfaithful with another woman… but he felt a void when he saw you standing alone, cooking up a meal in the tiny, godforsaken kitchen for him when he used to always be by your side, bothering you that it took much longer to prepare food.

He remembers the hopeful promises he’s made to you. But now, he can’t help but feel insecure in the life he’s given you. 

“You’ll wear a beautiful wedding dress and your ring,” he stated while kissing your cheeks, cupping your face as he tenderly nudged his nose with yours, “I’ll get you a really expensive one, one with a huge diamond.”

“And once we get married, I’ll give you a big kitchen!” Kōji tightly hugged you, spinning you around as you giggled in his loving embrace, “a backyard with lots of space for running around.” 

“I don't need a big one, Kōji!” Dwelling in his arms, you looked up at him, eyes crowning like moons in happiness. “Nonsense, you’ll need a big one for our family silly —”

You felt his hands gently grope your stomach, shaking you out of your memory as he swiftly made his way under your shorts.

With his lips parted, he knew his tongue could do a better job at playing with your swollen clit, lapping and sucking your juices as he fingered you just enough to hit your spot but for now, this will do. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. “You’re so warm.” 

Your nails immediately dig into his forearms, desperate to hold anything because this was dangerous to do in front of the stove but your mind wandered off into an euphoric abyss. You were seeing stars as your fiance palmed at your warm core, casually pulling down your pants as he pressed his hardened bulge on the crevice of your naked ass.

“Say you want me.” Kōji enticed, his voice condescending and lustful as he undid your bra, the clasp easily snapping off for his hands to perfectly grasp hold of your plump mounds. 

“I-I want you…” you mewled, feeling your core heat up when he further pressed his throbbing cock, the heat of his member radiating against your sensitive skin. 

“Good.” Kōji was satisfied with the wanton look that shined in your eyes when he leaned in to kiss you, the enticing urge of your dilated pupils as he grasped onto him for any ounce of support. “You’re so wet.” The thick squelches of his fingers playing with your sopping cunt embarrassed you. “Did you feel lonely because I’ve neglected you for a while?”

Kōji didn’t have plans to fuck you. Instead, he was planning on heading over to Hanako’s later in the night, rolling around in her silk covers as he made love to her. But something in him sparked, making him feel warm, and dizzy when he remembered about promising a family with you.

But… but that was impossible. You said your body was too weak to consume children… that it would be difficult.

“Mmph —! A-aah!” you moaned when he lowered you both to the hard floor, pressing his body against yours, intoxicating you with skin to skin contact before he pressed his lips back together with yours.

Despite the tension you and he faced for months prior, you still allowed him to undress you, kissing you in places that he’s once labeled as his, leaving you bare of any clothing as he pressed himself down on you. 

Your hands shook while trying to unbuckle his belt, gradually making your way to barely manage to unzip his pants and pull it down, just enough to expose his toned buttocks and free his heated member out of his briefs. He was already trailing soft kisses along your jawline while cupping your sore breasts to give a wanton squeeze.

Rubbing his reddened tip at your entrance, his eyes fully blown out in lust, he seethed through his teeth, “I’m going in.” It’s been close to forever since he’s felt your tight walls pulsing against his cock. Heavenly, absolutely magical. Hanako couldn’t compare to the warmth of your cunt.

“Ah w-wait Kōji!” you huffed, the thick air of the cramped room barely enough to provide oxygen for two needy bodies, “c-condom… it's dangerous…”

Rage. 

Fucking red was all he saw.

“Fucking shit,” he grasped hold of your cheeks, it hurt in the way he pushed his fingers against your skin, but nothing hurt more than the utter disgust Kōji looked at you before spewing out his next words, shredding your heart into a thousand pieces.

“You can’t even get pregnant even if I dump my cum in you.”

“No! No — that’s not true!” you wanted to scream out and grasp hold of him but the shock of his words dug deeper into your heart than you’d acknowledged, paralyzing you with an agonizing pain. Because soon Kōji was immediately zipping up his pants, stomping his way out of the apartment, and leaving with a loud thud to the door. 

And in your loneliness, a tear dropped from your eye as the faint steps of your lover slowly dissipated into the air. 

“Nonsense,  you’ll need a big one for our family, silly.”

“Family?” your cheeks felt warm at Kōji's words. “Our family. It’ll be me, you, and maybe one or two babies that will have your eyes… and maybe my handsome good looks?” his laugh rang euphorious to your ears. “That’s my dream.”

Family… that’s all you’ve wanted. 

Your phone buzzes beside you before your mind slowly fades away to complete darkness...

The day felt gloomy. The air was humid and skies were downcast to further impede the depressive halls of the hospital. Being inside a cold room all day with the monitors constantly beeping and people showing their fake sympathy made the rage he felt inside that much more unbearable. 

It wasn’t hard sneaking out of his room. The nurses were too busy gossiping – most likely talking about how sorry they felt for him. All he wanted was some silence from the suffocating room he was forced to be in for the past month. 

So he sat on the edge of the hospital’s rooftop, breathing in the thick air as his casted feet dangled with his crutches thrown aside. 

They say your life flashes before your eyes right before you die. So you can make peace with your entire life in those few, brief seconds. 

Does that mean they reflected back on their lives? Is that why they just left without regrets? 

He wondered if he jumped, would his mind finally feel silent?

Would the guilt of being alive finally surpass him?

Why did he have to be alone?

Why did it have to be them?

Why… why couldn’t he just die?

Why? Why? Why?

After the surgery, he barely spoke after waking up from a long slumber. The day he opened his eyes, grandma was silently crying while grandpa stoically sat next to the window. An ominous anxiety crept over when they weren’t there. 

“Obasan,” his voice barely audible, “w-where’s Okasan… and Otosan?” And after a long hesitant pause, Obasan told him the truth.

“They’re gone –” The boy didn’t hear the rest, because the sudden loud rasp of the oxygen mask rang through his ears.  

His mind was still full with memories of his parents. It still felt so fresh, as if they would come back tomorrow and tell him this was all a bad joke. It was so vivid – his last meal, his last laugh, his last hug, his last birthday celebration, his last car ride to school with his parents before having them tragically stolen from him.

He prayed to god, to anything out there, each night that he wouldn’t wake up the next morning. Because if remembering them would be this painful, maybe forgetting them would ease the agony.

But as if the deities had another plan, his wounds recovered quickly and the blunt pain in his chest no longer hurt. 

It was unfair, the injustice of it all was maddening. 

Ironically, the boy found the answer as he stepped along the ledge of the hospital rooftop. He was the only one suffering. The dead have no regrets, it's those alive that have to burden the pain. Only the living must say their farewell – the balance has always favored the dead.  

“They look like ants,” the boy commented, his voice void of any emotion as he looked down upon the people that entered in and out of the building. Some rushed in as they tried to muffle their cries, while others took their time exiting. Some spent time outside on the benches, while others strolled around, wheeling a patient. 

The boy felt jealous of them. At least they all had a purpose –  a purpose to be alive.

And maybe this was his purpose.

So in peace the boy stepped forward to embrace his fate. The breeze felt nice as it ran through his white hair. Maybe it won’t be so bad, the boy thought. If he could pay the price for doing what he wished, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much –

“Onii-chan,” a girl called out to him, barely grasping hold of his hand, “that’s scary…” she muttered.

“Let go of me.” The boy warned, “mind your own business and get lost.”

Tugging harder, “Come play with me, Onii-chan. If you get hurt, you can’t go home!” 

Home. 

Did he even have one anymore?

And for the first time since his parent’s demise, the boy had tears streaming down his face. His blue eyes once filled with pain and apathy, had life brought back onto him the moment this foolish girl held his hand. Looking back, the girl no taller than his waist was looking up at him with a missing tooth and chubby cheeks, looking awfully sad as her small fingers barely wrapped around his hand. Her touch felt oddly warm.

“You have an owie!” the girl muttered, lightly jumping on her feet as she hurriedly searched through her small bear purse, before taking out something small and handing it over to him, her soft fingers gently grazing over his wrist. “A bandaid!” She cheekily smiled, “Obachan said bandaids are for owies. So don’t cry!” only for her smile to slowly dissipate when the boy’s tears continuously flowed, dripping down his chin with some pooling on her arm as he reached over to take her gift.

Why did she look so sad for him? Why were her eyes pooled with tears, soft and gentle as she looked up at him? Why did her hand need to feel so warm? Why did his heart beat, pounding in his chest, from this little girl?

“Why’d it have to be me?” the boy muttered, his tears muffling his words as he fell to the floor, his body falling limp and mind hazy as the young girl sat with him, “why am I still alive? Why couldn’t they just kill me too?”

“Maybe…” her small hands wrapped around his fingers, “so we can go home together! So let’s be friends Oniichan —”

Her voice faded into a far distance as the boy sudden saw black. 

“You’re a good girl.” the boy heard his grandma speaking with someone. Despite his eyes barely open, he could see a girl sitting next to his bed as his grandma patted her head. “Can you stay here for a bit, darling? Obasan needs to go take care of something.” 

“Mhm!” She ecstatically responded, bouncing in her seat. “Oniichan is my friend. I’ll take care of him!” And the door closed.

“Hmm…” the girl hummed, playing with his wristband that was too big for his thin wrists, “Oniichan’s name is… ” sounding out every letter, “G-O-J-O S-A-T-O —”

“I thought I told you to get lost,” the boy muttered, “You’re not my friend. Especially not with those that can’t read.”

“That’s okay,” the girl giggled while putting her hands on her cheeks while leaning on his bed, swinging her short legs as she stared back at the boy, “you’re my friend.”

….

Has it been another month since he’s been at the hospital? The boy wasn’t sure, but what he did know was that this girl followed him around everytime she visited the hospital. And here he was, sitting at the rooftop balcony, handing her an icecream as he sat feeling the night air.

It wasn’t like the girl was sick — well, she didn’t look sick. Curious, the boy decided to ask. “Toothless, why are you here?”

“Because Oniichan is my friend.” Furrowing her brows in a pout, the girl answered while eating her icecream, “and my name isn’t Toothless.”

Awkwardly scratching the back of his head, he corrected his sentence. “I— I mean… are you sick?” but he couldn’t help but laugh when the girl did, in fact, have a missing front tooth with air whistling out whenever she talked. 

“No —” the girl mumbled, “Obachan is…” her voice was faint, almost as if she was going to cry before quickly stopping herself, fastidiously blinking to pull her tears back in, “but Obachan said she’s getting better, so it’s okay.” 

The boy was sure he’s seen her grandma in the oncology department. But, he guessed… miracles can happen — for some people. 

“Oniichan,” the girl suddenly asked, “do you think we can play together when you get better?”

“Not sure,” the boy shrugged, wondering for himself when he’ll be discharged. 

“Or! Oniichan!” the girl suddenly shouted, “let’s get married!”

“What?!” the boy almost choked on his spit, his cheeks radiating a rosy hue from her abrupt confession, “Do you even know what that word means?!”

Nodding her head, as she looked at him with her eyes wide, “Obachan said when you marry someone you can eat lots of yummy food together and have fun so everyday will feel so happy!”

“Well,” he laughed while ruffling the top of her head, “I’m too old for you. Maybe when you grow all your teeth, we can be friends.”

With a pout, she asked. “You promise?” 

“Hmm…” the boy stood up, quickly patting his clothes from the dirt, and wiping his hands off before reaching out his hand to help the girl up, “ I promise — but c’me on, let’s go, your grandma is probably waiting for you.”

Hopeful the girl took the boy’s hand, giggling as she led him to the exit, “I’ll make you happy Oniichan!”

“Sure,” the boy chuckled at her absurd declaration, oddly feeling a sense of joy tickling his insides from her pure diligence in wanting to marry him despite not even knowing the significance of such sacred word. 

Opening the door, the girl excitedly turned around to share, jumping on her toes that she failed to notice the stairs. “And I’ll share all my food with you, Satoru-kun —”

“Watch out!” the boy yelled, quickly pulling her into his arms before both bodies painfully rolled down the flight of stairs. The boy felt a rush of warm liquid drip down his temple as he held the small girl in his arms, noticing a cut just under his eyes that started to bleed. All his attention was focused on her face that he failed to feel the gashing wound on his back. 

“Toothless, you okay?” though his voice was faint and his head starting spinning, he tried to wake her up, only for her response to be silence. And with all the strength he had, he pulled her limp body closer, whispering before he too fell weak. “It’s okay… I’ll give you a bandaid later —”

“What the fuck?!” you quickly woke up, “shit,” you clutched your head feeling dizzy from getting up so fast. Your back was drenched with sweat and your hands trembled from this dream you’ve just had. 

Trying to steady your breath, you tried recalling what you’ve just dreamt. “Who was that?” Your chapped lips stung as you tasted a hint of blood. 

In a flash you briefly remembered a boy with soft white hair and the prettiest blue eyes you’ve ever seen, bandaged and bruised as he cried next to you. “Oniichan…”  you whispered. Your head pounding making you feel nauseous as a name repeatedly rang through your ears. 

Gojo... Who are you?

You decided maybe a cup of water would help relinquish your parched throat and help cool you down. So by habit your hand immediately reached for your phone, hoping Kōji messaged you after the fight you both had, as you carefully stood up to reach from the fridge door, only for it to be, again, someone else. 

From Satoru.

The weather is so cold >_<

Dress warmly! 

——

To say Kōji was frustrated was an understatement. The level of anger that entered his body when he heard your words eroded his common sense and blinded him from thinking rationally. 

He wanted to hurt you, absolutely destroy you because you were the one who was a constant reminder of his failures, and in that, he wanted to spite you.

It didn’t help how a man bumped into him as he made his way down, further fueling his rage. Instead of apologizing, that son of a bitch smirked, and his blue eyes pierced straight into Kōji's soul. And that fucked with his mind even more. 

So in his resentment, he found himself in Hanako’s apartment, pushing her against the wall, heaving up her heavy moans while her fingers naturally became tangled in his hair, the moment she opened her door for him. Slamming his lips against hers with a harsh kiss, taking in her fragrant scent that muted all emotions, stripping any ounce of rationality from him — Kōji felt numb to it all. 

For Kōji, there was no passion, only carnal violence as he prepared to fuck her. But for Hanako, it was the complete opposite. The roughness and the eagerness of his fingers as he ripped off her clothes, caused her to further believe that this man was hers. 

It didn’t take much time for Hanako to be completely stripped off in bed. She mistook his rage for wanton desire by allowing him to pull on her hair to deepen the kiss, shoving his tongue inside her mouth as it stripped them both of air, shamelessly moaning out his name to further claim Kōji as hers. 

Nothing else ran through his mind except for the image of your pained expression when he assaulted you with painful words. Hanako, with her breasts exposed, completely unaware of her boyfriend’s rage, laid bare as she pulled him in, wrapping her legs around his small waists while her dainty panties dangled at her ankles. 

“F-fuck,” he groaned, “Let me just rub it, I don’t have a condom —”

“It’s okay,” she reassured, further pressing her legs into his waist as Kōji stared at her, “I’m safe today.” 

Her words made his mind short-circuit. 

He wasn’t thinking right when he rammed his unprotected cock inside her cunt, because in a split second he was fucking her raw as she loudly mewled in pleasure, her legs trembling from the force of his thrusts. 

“Y-you’re so big!” Hanako shuddered, thighs trembling at how far Kōji perfectly nestled inside her, with his balls pushing against her ass and his hips pressing against her swollen, needy clit. 

He held Hanako close as her body jostled from below, his teeth sloppily marking up her soft skin, the puffs of his exhales forming sweat bubbles on her temples. Blinding them both from their sins as their fates entangled as one. 

Clouded by wrath and lust, rutting his hardened cock into his mistress with forceful movements had her thighs shake in pleasure, and blissful tears to well up. For a brief moment, Kōji wondered when was the last time he's seen tears of bliss as he fucked you — surely days, weeks, months?

But when Hanako suddenly clenched on his length, her tight, warm pussy provoking him to hold her closer, his eyes immediately saw red the moment he realized, under him was, in fact, not you. But, his mistress.

“K-Kōji —!” her whimpers were sensual, “Just like that!” she screamed out, her nails painting harsh lines of red on his back. 

Fuck. Fuck. It’s not like it was his fault that you couldn’t conceive. You promised to have a family with him, and now, you’re telling him that don’t want to? 

Fuck that. 

And if he could have sex with Hanako without any caution for a possible baby that could grow in her womb after this, he would do it. He wouldn’t have used protection all this time if he had no guilt behind fucking her raw. 

Or at least, that’s what he foolishly thought, a decision fueled by his anger until he actually did do it. 

But it was already too late because he already released thick ropes of cum, into a woman that clearly wasn't you, when he woke up to his senses and realized what he had done.

Immediately he pulled himself out of Hanako’s cunt to ejaculate the rest of his seed out of her, ignoring her needy whines as she pouted at the sudden emptiness she felt from Kōji's cock not filling her to the brim.

What the hell was he thinking?! There was no such thing as a safe day. Especially not when you were supposed to be his future. The rightful one to bear his children.

But underneath him was a smiling and panting Hanako, blissfully fucked as she mistook her boyfriend to be fingering her to force his leaking cum back into her. Foolishly wrapping her arms around his neck, she sealed the deal with a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love you.”

——

You didn’t have much growing up. It was just you, mom, and grandma. Well, that was until your mom passed away when you were in high school. Since then money has always been tight. Especially when trying to pay for Obachan’s medical bills, juggling multiple jobs after school was normal for you, getting wrecked by the cruelty of the world was a part of your daily life. 

You worked through school, and college was nothing but an elite dream you not even dared wanted for yourself. That was until you met a strange boy, one who nervously pranced as he confessed his feelings to you on top of the school’s rooftop.

Kōji Nakamura changed your life.

Kōji was a kind boy. He listened despite you not talking much and would remember the smallest of details about you. Though awkward in his profession of love, he still cared for you deeply. It was in his actions as he held your bag and waited to walk you home after your part-time job. It was in his sweet gestures to pack you lunch, waking up extra early just so he could catch you before leaving for the day. 

There was a sense of timidness you felt whenever he held your hand. As if he was scared you would break if he held it any harder. 

He taught you to dream and enlightened your once dull days into something worthwhile. His smile illuminated your future, and to him, you entrusted your everything. 

But it wasn’t until Grandma passed away you felt alone. A loneliness that ate up your core, slowly devouring every aspect of you, crippling you from freedom. The days when you sat alone at home, stomach grumbling from having little to eat as you waited for your beloved Obachan to come back home… only for her to never return deeply traumatized you. 

So you vowed, that if Kōji was the next best thing in your life, you wouldn’t let him go. The thought of feeling lonely again struck fear in your heart, causing you to cling to him even more.

The relationship was never this bad… it wasn’t until the debt started to fuel your fights. Nights that were once full of cuddles and warmth slowly became cold and hostile with backs turned to one another. The bags under Kōji's eyes would increasingly darken, and his sighs deepened whenever he would see you in old clothes that were out of style. 

But still, it was easier to deal with the neglect than to be alone again… 

It’s a shame how even in the turmoil, you seek out what’s familiar, even when it eats you up from the inside. And somehow in the pain, you felt a sense of comfort.

But maybe this dream, like a glass menagerie that’s so fragile that seems to always taunt you, always feeling too far away to protect, wasn’t what you’ve thought was worth protecting. 

And it scared you that he was nothing but a mirage, a foolish dream, of your delusions that one day better days will come…

But strangely so, you foolishly find comfort, again, in the man that you’ve recently met as he sits in front of you while boldly looking into your eyes. He’s smiling as if he, too, would protect you. Carefully listening to your few words as you spill the story about your miscarriage to him, he offers a smirk without any irreverence to life,

“Want me to kill him?” Satoru asked while sitting next to you, his cheeks feeling cold from the night. “I mean it,” he reiterated with a blank expression while looking forward. 

“I wish,” you chuckle, feeling a load off your shoulders as you confess about the miscarriage you’ve suffered almost a year back. It was much harder then compared to now. It was hard to sleep with the debt collectors constantly threatening and trashing your apartment, your anxiety heightened every morning when you woke up. You didn’t mean to keep it a secret from Kōji, the day you found out you’d lost your baby was the first day he didn’t sleep at home. “I guess I’m just afraid to bring it up to him.”

“Leave him and come to me,” the older man confessed, “I’m rich, handsome, and believe it or not,” he turned to you, “I’m very good in bed.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his childish boasting. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was wrong to be here, feeling a sense of warmth in your heart while talking to another man who wasn’t your lover. But was it a crime to be selfish, just for once. 

“Hm… Yamakage-san, can I ask you a question?” you hummed out his name, holding onto your beer can as you took a sip for courage.

“Sure, if you call me Satoru.” He smirked at you, pushing his hair back which exposed his chiseled jaw and pretty neckline. 

“You’re silly.” Shaking your head before continuing with your question, seriously asking. “Why are you so nice to me?”

“Like I said when I met you, I just want to be friends with you.”

“Why?” curious as to why someone like him would even want to spend a minute of his time with you. 

“Why not?” 

“Because you’re probably popular with girls, you're rich, and most likely have your life set for you.”

Cocking his head in confusion, “So, if I’m popular with girls, am rich, and have a bright future, I can’t be your friend?”

“No.”

“Then how about your lover?”

“You already know the answer to that, Yamakage-San,” laughing when you see him roll his eyes and mumble under his breath. “Yea, sure whatever, you’re still with the asshole.”

The cold must’ve gotten to your senses. Because you couldn’t help but look at his glossy lips pouting, wondering how soft it would be to kiss his lips, and feel his touch as he tenderly held you for an embrace. 

Would it feel different from Kōji's? 

Furthermore, you couldn’t help but daydream, maybe if the universe was fair to you just once… if you had met Yamakage Satoru before Kōji… would your life have been a bit different? 

Maybe if you made a decision, your fate could change.

So without much thought, you softly asked. 

“Then can you kiss me?” in your thoughts.

——

Kōji nervously sat in his living room, biting his nails as he waited for you to come back home. You were always quick to come home after work, ready to greet him despite whatever you were doing. but when he arrived, you weren’t there.

With no letter updating him like usual, or the freshly made soup and rice prepared for him for breakfast, the apartment felt vacant, absent of any life. 

Guilt started to eat up at his core, especially after last night’s mistake of fucking Hanako raw and cumming inside her. What the hell was he thinking? 

He didn’t mean for his affair to go this far. He just wanted a little fling to distract him from the frustrations he felt when he saw you — a constant reminder of his failures. 

It was amusing at first when Hanako hit on him. The underclassman that used to follow him around in college, had now become a woman. And was willing to fulfill his sexual desires and stroke his ego as he wanted. 

As the days passed, Kōji couldn’t help but feel enticed by the dichotomy of both women in his life. Hanako looked like she grew up privileged and loved, it was in her expensive articles of clothing and perfume she showered herself with. She was quirky and vibrant, ready to cutely embrace and shower him affectionately. While you wore nothing but baggy clothes that did nothing for your figure and were boring like a wilted flower. 

“Ahh,” Hanako threw her arms around him, her cheeks planted on his firm chest as he listened to his erratic heartbeat as both naked bodies cooled down from the intense sex they’d had prior, “I’m so happy I think I can get married at this instant if it’s with you,” she giggled while snuggling herself closer to him. 

“Marriage?” Kōji scoffed, a pang in his chest thickening when he immediately thought of you. Hanako didn’t know he was still with you, nor was it that she cared to ask. The conversation never flowed in that direction. And even if it did, what difference did it make when they’ve already fucked.

But unlike him, Hanako was serious about her relationship with Kōji. 

“You don’t want to get married with me?” Hanako pouted, “You should be happy your young girlfriend is even mentioning of getting married!”

Trying to change the subject, Kōji asked, “Did you find your phone?”

“Yea! It was on my desk in the morning with a letter from my boss saying he found it!” She exclaimed while perched on her elbow, her voluptuous breasts littered with kiss marks, shamelessly laid out for Kōji to see. 

“Be careful.” His chest was relieved, “and delete those videos, what if someone sees them.”

“Hmph,” pouting as she pinched his nose, playfully glaring as she cupped his face to land a fat kiss on her boyfriend’s bruised lips, “no one will see, and who cares! We’re dating anyways!”

“But back to what I was saying, you’re at a good age to get married Kōji. Don’t you want to settle down?” Resting her chin on his sternum, looking up through her wispy lashes, she asked with the expectation that her boyfriend would want to have a future with her. 

Marriage. Kōji once wanted that. 

“I do,” he agreed with his lover, tightening his hold on her waist as he pulled her closer, “I just don’t think it’s the most feasible especially when it’s so hard to take care of myself.”

“Have you thought of wanting children, Kōji?” the woman cautiously asked, imagining how good a father Kōji would be for their future children.

“Mhm.” He’s thought many times about it. Too many that he’s often dreamt about it too. 

“Tell me,” Hanako giggled, her love for this man growing in her heart.

“Nothing much. I just a child that looks like my wife and I.” His mind colored with a hopeful dream filled with you. “And maybe live in a small apartment where we can on weekend trips and eat lots of good food.” 

Kōji knew having a child with you was a luxury. But he couldn’t help but feel disappointment when you confessed it would be difficult. But you were always quick to remind him, if things got better...  

He wondered if he was the cause of such misfortune since he had no money. And in his insecurity, he fueled his rage on you. 

“Kōji,” the younger woman called out his name, drawing circles on his chest as she looked up with eyes brimming with tears, “don’t give up on that dream, okay?”

I’ll make sure to make it happen for you, Hanako internally promised as she held onto her stomach, unaware that she was already steps into making it come true. 

…

Days had passed since the incident of him walking off on you. It’s been plaguing his mind as the memory of your pained expression haunted his every moment. You were supposed to be waiting for him like always. The kind and boring you that would do anything for him; strangely, now, you weren’t here. 

It’s been hours since he’s arrived home, and he’s been looking at his phone every minute hoping that you would message him, check up on him, and care for him like usual. 

But outside of Hanako’s useless messages, his phone was silent. 

His guilty conscience couldn’t take it anymore as he lifted his phone to dial your number, rushing out to get some fresh air from the balcony. Despite the cool wind, his heart felt stuck, encaged by his poor decisions that ultimately caused his relationship with you to turn sour. 

It was all his fault and he knew it. You weren’t deserving of such treatment, but the anger… his insecurity that brewed knowing he’s failed to protect the woman he once passionately loved, shamefully overcame him. 

He had no one to blame but himself, but you were willing to take his wrath… so he let you. 

The number you have dialed is not available, please leave —

Kōji dialed your number again and upon the third ring, he was faced with a scene that would embark on a new trajectory of his sanity — or what was left of it. 

He was sure it was you. There was no denying that Kōji wouldn’t be able to identify his girlfriend of almost a decade coming out of a stranger’s car, smiling and laughing as she held onto a large bouquet too grand for her to carry. 

Kōji couldn’t help but recall a memory when he took you to the mall, excited to buy you something nice only to leave disappointed when you wouldn’t let him buy anything not even a singular rose saying he needed to save money. He remembered you telling him that you didn’t like flowers. But there you were beautifully smiling with dozens in your arms. 

Who the fuck was that? Kōji's eyes then zoomed onto the man, and for a brief second, it felt as if he’d seen the stranger before. But he decided to ignore it because his main priority was you.

It wasn’t until minutes later Kōji heard your keys rattling to open the door. He wasn’t sure what he needed to say, what he needed to do — but the moment he saw your face, he immediately ran towards you and pulled you into a suffocated embrace. 

“Where you’ve been?!” His voice sounded muffled into your neck, “I’ve been waiting for you this entire time!”

Usually, you would console him, and apologize for making him worry. But today, all Kōji received was a slight nudge as you pushed him away, “sorry, I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry,” Kōji murmured, awkwardly standing at the doorway as he watched you take off your coat, and prepare the roses into a vase. 

Like deja vu, Kōji snaked his strong arms around your waist, holding you tightly as if he needed you to know, you were his. “Who gave you those flowers?” Kōji cautiously asked while kissing your neck. His heart momentarily stopped beating when he noticed that your neck was bruised just above the navel of your neck.

“A friend.” That was all you stated before making your way into the bedroom to sleep, ignoring him for the rest of the night. 

— the night prior.

Occasionally, men would shamelessly ask for favors while drunk as they checked in. Usually, all you had to do was deny their request, hand over their key, and simply wish them a good night’s rest as you stay safe behind the plastic barrier.

It didn’t bother you when they did, because how are you going to argue with a person that’s incoherent to the point they can’t give you the right transactional card because they’re too drunk. It was a waste of your time to stress about it. 

The money was good, and that was all to it. 

And usually, despite being drunk, they would stumble up the stairs, eventually making their way to their motel room, ultimately forgetting their actions in the morning as they sped back to their waiting wives. 

But today, one customer seems to be the outlier.

“C’me on,” the drunken man slurred his words, eyes faded as drool leaked from the corner of his stubby chin, “I’ll g-give you a good time!”

“I decline your offer sir,” you sighed, “But please, if you can provide me with your credit card, not your business card.”

“You fucking gold digger,” he cursed at you, “why do you need my card? You’re trying to scam me?”

“No, sir I —”

Intruding, a man suited in black walked up to the front, presenting his credit card with a simple request, “If you’d excuse me. I would like to buy out the rest of the empty rooms.” And with that the drunken man was easily escorted out with the help of the odd stranger.

Your shift would usually end at around 5 am, but since all rooms were booked out, Akiyama-san excused you to leave early. 

Packing your bags you wondered if Satoru would be there waiting for you like always. Leaning against the pebbled wall as he boredly kicked rocks to waste time until you ended. And to no avail, he was.

But today, standing in front of you, with his height domineering above you, Satoru had a bruised lip and cheek as he stood under the dim street light. 

“What happened?!” you immediately shrieked before cupping his face, pulling him down to meet your level, before quickly blowing on his wound to ease the possible pain.

Satoru liked that, the worry in your eyes as you cared for him, your small hands holding him in place as you examined his wound, completely angered that someone would dare assault him. 

“A grown man like you going around fighting people.”

“It’s really not my fault,” he pouted, his hands sneakily finding rest on your waists. 

“Come here.” Your hand locked with his as you led him inside to use the first aid kit, ordering the grown man around,“and sit down.” Your hands felt warm despite your fingers barely grasping his four fingers. It was cute, adorable even, how you easily controlled him on a tight leash.

“Yes ma’am .” He obediently listened, spreading his legs out so that you could comfortably position yourself to place ointment on his wound. He had a clear view of your face — enticing and pure, with your delicate and soft features as your lashes fluttered and brows cutely furrowed while carefully placing the medication on his lip. 

Ahh if you would care for him like this, Satoru thought, then he would glady get beaten up if he could be pampered by you…

“Fuck, what the hell?!” the drunken man found himself on the floor, knees scraped from the sudden brute force. “Do you want to fucking die?!” 

“Me?” Satoru eyes gleamed brightly in the dark, chuckling at how pathetic the drunk man sounded, “not really. But —”

The old man screeched out when a wad of his thinning hair was abruptly pulled, “I wonder who’s the one that wants to die between you and I? Come on, guess. I’ll give you one chance.”

“Are you crazy? — Ah! My hair!” the main yelped in pain as Satoru’s grip got even harder.

“Hm.. you seem sober enough.” Satoru hummed, crouching down as he peered into the man face. “Hit me.”

“You must be out —”

“Hurry.” 

Angered at the younger man’s provocation, the man swung his plump fist, cursing as he almost lost balance from the force, “it’s people like you who are ruining the future generations, you fucking punk!”

The punch echoed through the quiet alleyway.

“Good.” Spiting out his blood, Satoru fixed his posture to hover over the man, taking out a pair of black gloves from his pocket as he swiftly wore it, hiding a prominent scar he had just under his right wrist. “Do you know who I am?”

“What the hell are you saying? How am I supposed to —”

“You dont?” His blue eyes pierced straight into the man’s soul, burning his mind so he wouldn’t dare come across you any more. “Then, it’s your lucky day because you'll remember me even in your dreams.”

Crack! 

Thud.

… Maybe it was the position that you were in, but you noticed while tending to his wound, Satoru was dangerously close — far too close that you could feel his soft breathing as he observed your features, his azul eyes noticeably landing on your lips.

“you’re so pretty,” he confessed, his eyes softening up as he sees a change in your expression. 

“and you’re crazy.” you tried pulling away, only to immediately fail as his strong hands pulled you in closer, your palms resting on his chest.

“let me ask a question.” Satoru brushed his mildly calloused finger under your eye, “this scar— where did you get it?” 

“to be honest, I don’t remember… Obachan told me it was from an accident when I was younger.” 

“oh— I see,” his voice sounded mildly disappointed, “it’s beautiful nonetheless.”

“I think something happened to your head when you got hit—“ 

“I’m being serious,” his lips hovered over yours, his minty breath fanning just below your nose, cooling your nerves, “you make me go fucking insane.” he sulked, placing his cheek on your chest as he looked up at you.

It felt as if your heart was going to burst out of your chest. It was amazing how Satoru didn’t say anything about the loud thumping despite his ears placed directly over the beating organ. “Don’t look at me like that.” You stated while pushing his hair out of his eyes, a visible grin formed on his lips making your heart flutter. His looks were enticing, absolutely cruel of him to look at you like that. 

“Like what?” Satoru challenged, a smirk growing on his lips as if he’s found a way to the golden prize, trailing his large hands up to cup your face as you shly removed your gaze on him. “Hey,” he whispered, “Look at me.”

And you do, and his expression is gentle. “Tell me, like what?” He asked again, his voice an octave lower.

“Like you love me.” you honestly answered, and his lips come crashing onto yours and you’re immediately pulled up onto his strong thighs, saddling his clothed crotched with one hand placed behind your neck while the other mounded your ass. 

The kiss was vigorous. Passionate. Sloppy as your tongues couldn’t meet in perfect coordination, but both of you didn’t care. 

“I’ve always loved you.”

His lips trailed kisses along your jaw, steadying you in place as he took the lead, allowing you to feel his hot breath on your skin. “S-satoru,” you mewled out his name.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “Say that again,” his lips murdered yours, his fingers organically slipping under your clothes. His kisses felt tender and deep, tracing the outline of your lips with the tip of his tongue as you breathed each other in, occasionally leaving open mouth kisses to smother you with soft kisses around your chest, shoulders, and neck. Your skin stung when he sucked on your clavicle, swirling his tongue with his saliva after he’s marked you while your hips moved in tandem to ride his strong thigh, feeling his hardened bulge sadly trapped in his slacks.

You felt his fingers unbutton your top. Was he planning on taking it further? Your mind raced, bouncing around with thoughts that challenged your morality or if it even matter at this point. 

But you decide on the former, not wanting to dishonor Satoru like that, but also to keep your dignity to break up with your estranged lover before possibly starting a new relationship. 

“S-satoru —” You pulled at his hair, using all of your resolve to get his attention, “wait for me,” you huffed out and his lips immediately stopped making love to you. A trail of spit connecting your lips together as he clenched his jaws to pull himself from absolutely fucking you senseless right here — if you’d wanted to. 

Placing your forehead to kiss his as you gulped down a wad of your saliva down your parched throat, trying to steady your erratic heart.

“until I break up with Kōji… wait for me.”

“I'm good at waiting,” Satoru promised with a gentle kiss placed on top of your scar, “it’s all I’ll ever do for you, princess.” 

——

Kōji has been unusually antsy these past weeks. He rarely came home late, and followed you around like a neglected puppy trying to get your attention. It was as if the roles were magically swapped between the two of you, where he was now the one painfully waiting for you to return home to him.

But it’s now been days since he’s last seen you. Where have you gone? When all of your belongings were still in this crappy apartment? Where can you be, when he was here?

At first he assumed you were at work, until you didn’t show up to the apartment anymore. Regret filled his conscience when he had no where to look nor call, because he’s never asked where you’ve been working at. All he did was expect you to pay off his debt.

He regretted ever putting his relationship with you on the line. It was a foolish decision, one he’ll take his whole life trying to rectify and own up to his sins.

He was sure of it that you’d forgive him — he needed you, without you there was no sense for him to live. 

The sight of the love mark he’s seen on your neck crippled him. It drove him mad to think someone else possibly touched you. All you needed to do was pick up his call. He’ll make it right. He’ll do better.

He’ll end things with Hanako. That’ll be easy because she wasn’t worth much to his life than a simple fuck, compared to you who’s been with him for over a decade.

He’ll find another job if that’ll mean you’ll stay with him forever. He’ll fulfill his promises to you and make you happy — one chance was all he needed.

Pick up. Kōji nervously bit his fingers, his naked feet loudly thumping on the hard floor, causing the neighbors below to retaliate in annoyance. but he didn’t care.

The line continued to ring — just one chance was all he needed.

Ring.

Ring.

how many times has he called? Surely it was close to a hundred. 

Ring. 

Rin — “Hello?” he heard your sweet voice on the other line. 

“Baby!” he urgently shouted, his chapped lips now bleeding, “where are you?” he felt a wob of anxiety pooling at the base of his throat, gripping onto his phone in anticipation of your words.

“I’m not coming back Kōji.”

“what do you mean? you can leave like that. no— Baby, where are you —?“

“Hanako.” his mind fell blank when he heard his mistress’s name on the line, his Achilles heel that would ultimately kill him upon strike. “I know everything, Kōji…” he heard you deeply sighing.

No, no, no! this wasn’t it. you weren’t supposed to know! 

“Baby no — no! Listen to me,” Kōji panicked as he heard your sniffles, oh… how he desperately wished this was a prank, a nightmare he’d wake up to and have you rightfully in his arms. 

“With what you’ve done, I didn’t think you needed proper closure… but I do feel like I owe you this one thing. If you look underneath my clothes, there should be a box. take a look inside, and it should be self explanatory what it is.”

Box? what fucking box, he thought while rushing into your once shared bedroom, rummaging through your side of the closet. It was then he noticed most of your clothes weren’t there anymore — and there it was, a small pink box hidden in the corner.

“Kōji.”

He opened the box as you relayed your last words to him. 

And there he saw a sonogram of a baby in his hands, dating back to a little over a year… 

“ I hope you can find happiness in your life without me now, Kōji.”

… just around the time his affair started.

“goodbye.” And Kōji didn’t know those would be the last words he’ll ever hear from you.

hook, line, sinker.

The onus to his failure — you, his beloved flower that’s withered under his unruly demise have finally found freedom from the one that’s plucked all of your beauty away.

——

You’ve contemplated for days wondering how you should end it with Kōji. Despite the pain he’s put you through, he was once someone you’ve loved and dreamt a future with. You knew him longer than living without him, and he was all you had for years of your life. 

All you’re firsts you’ve experienced with him, and with him you’ll experience this one last thing.

“I gotta do this,”  you muttered to yourself, staring at your phone that’s been ringing nonstop for the past couple days. 

To simply let go of a relationship, a person who you’ve known for so long is often a quite difficult thing to do. The world you wanted with Kōji, the future family and promises that were made between you and him, the sacred bond of love that once burned so fiercely was nothing more than a fever dream that has shallowed out into a distasteful nightmare. And it was time to let go.

Broken pieces can’t put themselves back together. They’ll always stay broken. And Kōji has broken you.

For a few weeks, he followed you around, begged – absolutely begged — on his knees that you would forgive him for saying such hurtful things to you. That he loved you, cared for you, wanted only you. 

Lies. lies. All of it were lies. 

He didn’t love you. If love was what he had, then you wanted no part of it. 

Because the same day that he knelt on the floor groveling in his self pity, you saw him sneak out at night, receiving a phone call from Hanako as she waited for him at a nearby park. Kissing him with tears in her eyes.

And the self proclaimed man that continuously boasted you were all he’ll ever need, your first love and companion for over a decade, did not push his mistress away, but instead embraced and solemnly confessed that he was sorry.

That was all you needed before closing your chapter with Kōji, forever locking it up to be thrown into the pits of hell to perish for all of eternity. and along with him, would the memory of your lost child accompany him.

Not a single tear fell from your eyes for Kōji — you won’t allow it. But instead, it fell for the stupid man that’s stolen your heart. 

Was he crazy?! It’s been over 20 years —

Your lungs felt heavy as you ran down the stairs, the dimly lit path almost dangerous as you breezed through, your legs speeding up in desperation to meet him — he was going to be there, always waiting to walk you back home.

The exit was close, just a couple more steps and you were free to hold him, kiss him, love him. 

And opening the door, standing at his usual spot just underneath the postlamp, was no one. 

Your eyes feverishly looked around, your head spinning from how fast your eyes trekked to look for Satoru. Your eyes becoming blurry from the tears that welled inside.

Where is he? He’s always there — 

You panicked when you couldn’t find him anywhere, he was supposed to be there! He always was —

“Who are you looking for?” he whispered in your ear, his breath fanning against your cheeks as tears threatened to spill. “Is he handsome? Because you’re making me jealous —”

Unabashed you mark him as yours. Forcing your lips on his soft, sweet ones, throwing your arms around his neck as you carelessly jumped into his embrace, knowing he’ll catch you. With your legs wrapped around his waists, your cheeks felt warm and the kiss tasted salty as you heard Satoru groan into the intimate kiss. 

His lips chased after yours as you lean out to catch a breath. “I didn’t know you were into voyeurism,” Satoru teased with a thin line of spit connecting you both together.

“There’s literally no one here to see us, Satoru.” It was close to midnight, and the streets were empty of people besides you two. 

He deadpanned with a lifted brow, “am I not a pair of eyes?” he scoffed as he carefully placed you down. 

“Whatever,” you pouted, rolling your eyes as you nuzzled your face into his chest, his arms immediately wrapping around your body. “Where were you?” you softly asked, the confidence in your voice shaking, “you were supposed to be here, stupid.”

“Sorry,” you felt his chest numbly vibrate as he spoke, “had to throw something away,” Satoru murmured with his lips pressed onto your head. 

“Hm?” you looked up through your lashes, resting your chin on his sternum, “throw what away?” you curiously asked.

A rosey hue immediately painted on his cheeks, “okay, you can’t just do that,” he muttered while cupping your face, nuzzling the tip of his nose lightly against yours, “you’ll kill me looking so cute like that.”

There was no denying that those were the same pair of eyes that you’ve fallen for years ago. The same pair of arms, once lanky and thin, now strong and secure … that saved you as you fell down the stairs.

“Satoru.” You hummed out his name, basking in his warmth as he, too, hummed back a response, “yes?”

You wanted to desperately ask. ‘How have you been? Have you been happy? Have you fulfilled your dreams? 

“Does your scar ever hurt anymore?” Your voice lightly cracked as you pulled his wrist close to your lips, kissing his skin as your vision started to become blurred from tears.

“No,” he professed, his eyes softening from the realizing you’ve remembered, “not since I’ve met you.”

Your heart pounded. It felt like a knot formed at the base of your diaphragm, making it difficult to breathe, to let out the words you’ve been dying to ask since you’ve had the dream. Everything around you felt loud, blaring into your ears and overstimulating your senses. 

What if you’re wrong? What if he isn’t who you thought?

Satoru intertwined his fingers with yours, breaking you from your thoughts as you followed him from behind, looking at his broad back as his veinous hand swallowed yours. “Let’s go home, angel.”  

And everything went silent. Like morning dew, his voice replenished your soul, anchoring you from insanity. His simple, couple of words fueled a courage for you to ask —

But even if you’re wrong … would that change anything?

Your hand tightly held his as you stopped in your track as you longly breathed in his scent. The chilled air tasted oddly sweet in that moment, and your hands could still barely wrap around his — just like years ago. 

And for once in your life, you decided nothing mattered anymore. From all the times the world trampled and left you broken and bare, you decided today you’d find liberosis to it all. 

“Satoru.” His name came out in a sob, your lips trembling while he, too, stopped himself.

“... are you still open to marrying me?” you could see his breaths become staggered, waiting for you to continue forth with your sentence. “And I’ve grown all my teeth…and could properly read out your name, Satoru Gojo?” 

Turning around, a solid tear fell from his majestic blue eyes, the whisps of his lashes damp with tears. 

“Took you long enough to remember me, Toothless.”

——

You couldn’t erase the past, nor could you predict the future. But with your lips intertwined, you found solace in the simple act of being together with him. And as you held each other tight, the gravity of your connection pulled you to kiss him again — again, and again.

You don’t recall much before finding yourself entangled in his arms, his lips sloppily kissing yours as he mindlessly pressed his thumb into the scanner to finally get you both through his door. 

Satoru brought you to his home, silently driving with only a firm grip on your thigh, finding solace in the small physical contact alone. Anything else would’ve enraged a monster inside of him, making him completely mad, as he sped through the street in his Daytona — mentally noting that he’ll need a more spacious car asap. 

Once more, you met his lips in a deeper kiss. His lips moved in tandem with yours, and the taste of his tongue fueled a warmth in your core, your panties pooling with warm slick, longing for him to touch it. 

“S-satoru,” you moaned out his name, your fingers grasping at his hair as his tongue traveled down the navel of your neck, peppering hushed kisses along your skin. Slipping a hand between your legs, rubbing your clothed core with the tip of his fingers, Satoru purred as he pushed you down onto his couch. 

You could feel his mischievous grin because his teeth grazed your skin, too late when you realized that he had his fingers doing circular motions against your clothed clit. “You’re so wet already,” he excitedly proclaimed, the hard rut of his erection rubbing against you. 

You squeezed your legs shyly as you nodded. “Yeah.”

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he shakily let out a breath, his pupils dilated as his palm pressed up down on your stomach up to your breasts, “and I wouldn’t mind that too much,” he murmured under his breath before latching his mouth onto a nipple, continously stroking your heated cunt with his vacant hand. 

It was as if your bodies were moving on its own, and you allowed it to dictate whatever action it desired. Forget everything for now, was all you could think of in your head — Kōji, Hanako, your child, all the pain, all the disappointment. Everything.

In your mind, it was all Satoru. He was the man you loved. 

He sucked the rounded mass, squeezing it before swirling his tongue around your nipple. All that you could do was let your hand grab a fistful of his hair until he moved to your right breast to give it the same attention.

Your breasts felt mildly sore with how he sucked on your bud, the slight pain felt even pleasurable as his fingers slowly moved your panty to the side, the thick slick of your sobbing cunt desperately wanting to coat his long, pretty fingers with your cum.

Though slow, you were at least successful in unbuttoning his white shirt. The heat of his defined abdomen felt like a sin to touch, as his stomach flinched at the plush of your fingertips grazing against his exposed skin. You then tried finding access to his zipper but with the rush of impatience and pumped adrenaline, your hands trembled, utterly making it impossible for you to even unbuckle his belt.

“Relax, angel,” he chuckled, his mouth releasing your tender breast with a sultry pop. With his arm caging you from above, kissing you while his hands swiftly grasped onto your wrists, he led your palms to cup the mold of his hardened, clothed cock. Satoru hissed at the contact as he pulled on your lower lip, “I’m right here, sweetheart.”

You were laying underneath him with your legs spread open, submitted under complete bliss as you watched him unravel with his cheeks flushed while his brows deeply furrowed. Something about the way he desperately needed your touch, his hand forcing your palm to hold him harder, cup his throbbing cock as his hips started to thrust upward. 

You avoided his eyes, his blue eyes much too intense as if he could read through your soul.

“don’t be shy on me now.” he commanded, quickly sitting on his knees, his legs caging you at your waist with his crotch pushing against your entrance. Now grasping both your wrists, prompting you to pull down the zipper, pulling your hands into his briefs to pull out his cock. He was warm, your hand barely fitting in from the utter size of this man. Satoru grinned as he witnessed your small hands trying to wrap around his pulsing length. “we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” 

You gulped as you tried to laugh it off. It was ridiculous how big he was. Criminal that he was even pretty down there. 

The next thing you knew, he was pinning your wrist on either side of your head concurrently to when he latched his mouth back into yours. Your attention forced back onto the man that had you digging your nails into his skin as you felt himself lowering down. He was smothering you with soft kisses around your chest, stomach, and down to your inner thighs. By spreading your legs further apart, you could feel his mouth moving closer and closer to your cunt until his tongue found its way to delve into your slit. 

Holy shit. Was this how it feels to receive oral? Kōji’s never done it like this, especially not this well —

“A-Aaah! S-Satoru—!” you yelped as his hot tongue took a long stroke up your pussy.

His kisses were tender and deep, tracing the outline of your folds with the tip of his tongue as he breathed you in. Expertly parting your folds with his fingers so he could do a better job at lapping his tongue inside of your core, breathing you in and sucking your juices, allowing the squelching noises to tickle your ear like a sweet melody. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. “You taste so good.”

Your nails were digging onto the couch, thighs pushing against his head, desperate to hold anything as you stared at the ceiling, seeing euphoric stars on his living room ceiling. It was in the way Satoru stroked his tongue around your clit, sucking at it tenderly as he teased his fingers at your entrance, coating up his fingers to easily enter inside your plush walls that made you tremble.

Your head felt dizzy as Satoru did more by flicking his tongue on your nub, soon replacing his mouth from ransacking your sweet pussy as he palmed your whole genital with a cocky smirk, when he felt your hips thrust upward, growing impatient at his lack of quickly fucking you.

“S-satoru please,” you begged, the heat of your body feeling as if you’ll explode if he touched you any further.

“Shh… I know, pretty,” kissing your inner thigh as he settled himself besides you, his arm snaking underneath to use as a neck rest, his hand holding your face to kiss him as he started to play with your pussy. Making short circles around your hardened bud, quickly holding you closer when he felt you clench as he pushed one, then two fingers, and ultimately three into you. 

He placed a gentle kiss to your temple, yet his fingers pressed harder on your clit,” let me play with you for a bit.”

Your muscles start to tighten, and the ache between your thighs become increasingly unbearable as the coiling tension inside your stomach burned a fire within you that was ticking to erupt. “You gonna cum?” Satoru breathed into your ear, his teeth nibbling your helix, the padding of his fingers intentionally grazing past your magical spot as he fingered you so erotically.

“P-please Satoru — ‘m close!” you desperately begged as tears welled up causing your impartial sight to feel even more suffocating. 

“Aw —” Satoru felt his eyes roll back from your dulcet moans, oh how he longed for you to cry out his name as he’s got you pinned under him. And your tears, god you looked so perfect crying for him. 

“Then cum.” He ordered before angling his fingers to finally poke at your g spot, the squelching, sultry sounds of your pussy echoing through his living room as your muffled cries were swallowed up by his lips. 

And moments thereafter, your bottom felt damp as warm liquid squirted out of you. “Such a good girl,” Satoru praised, his deep breath heavy and lascivious as he slowed his pace of fingering you. 

You were left breathless, your throat feeling dry while Satoru continuously kissed your body. “C’me here,” Satoru prompted, wrapping your arms around his neck before quickly holsting you bridal style, his lips never leaving yours as he walked up the stairs. 

You were so engrossed with the feeling of his lips that you didn’t even realize he had your legs wrapped around his waist. And with your arms around his neck, it was impossible to break the kiss as he led you to his bed, trails of clothes littered to leave an evidence of love. 

With each step he took, your kiss only got deeper and deeper. You had never felt such intensity throughout your relationship with Kōji, maybe you’ve had… but Satoru was intoxicating, leaving you drunk by his touch alone. 

You were gasping on his mouth, had his lips completely enveloped with yours. His lips inch around your jawline. Your neck. Your chest. Stumbling onto his bed, Satoru was quick to nestle in between your legs, his lips having no mind to stop kissing you even for a moment to breath, his hands feeling every inch of your heated body as he hardened bulge pressed against your tummy.

You feel the soft sheets on your back, the plush of his duvet lightly embracing your body as he settled himself on top of you. It was hard to look in his eyes, shy that you’ve just squirted in front of him — first try — when Kōji’s never been able to do that for you. But more importantly, when that thing between his legs looked so angry and wanting.

Would this even fit — Kōji’s wasn’t as big as Sato —

“What’s wrong?” he asked, grazing his thumb on your scar as he rested above you. You could feel his hard member brushing against your thigh while he gazed down at you in both worry and desire. “Look at me.”

“Y-youre really big,” you stammered, blinking your eyes from the shock of speaking out your intrusive thoughts. 

“Big?” emphazing your words while he chuckled, peppering kisses against your neck to ease your tense muscles. “never heard someone flat out say that about my cock. Most girls drool over it.”

“You fucked other girls?” you pinched his shoulder, obviously doing no damage from the sheer muscle he had packed under his skin.

“What can I do?” he gave you a wink, “I’m just so irresistible.”  

“Whatever —” you murmured while rolling your eyes, “... Are you like … eight inches?” 

“Probably a little over seven?” He hummed with both arms caging the sides of your head, spreading your thighs out so he could properly weave his body on top of yours. You can feel his heavy cock purposefully resting on top of your stomach as you felt him lightly grind his hips in a slow up and downward motion.

“you’re definitely not just a little over seven,” you gasped, caving into his touch, feeling your fiery core unbearable as you readied yourself to welcomed him in.

“I like to round down,” he teased, his soft lips landing on your temple. “But guess you’ll have to measure for yourself,” he soothed as he now rubbed his head against your wet folds, stroking his member as he made himself available for anything you’d want. “There’s two ways to measure,” his hand traveled to your throat, lightly grasping it before taking it down to your plush stomach, “your choice, princess.”

Wrong. In fact, there were three ways to logically go about measuring Gojo Satoru’s cock. 

Get a ruler and measure. 

Feel him deeply down your throat, gagging as his balls tickle your lips.

Feel the tip of his head pumping inside you, your palm locating just how far he inches inside.  

Gojo felt his heart rate pick up as he watched you, and it didn’t help how enticing you looked as crawled in between his legs, looking so dainty in between his thighs. You lean down, without giving him the leisure to breathe before pressing a soft kiss to the tip, and he groans, cock twitching slightly at the gesture. 

It was if he’s been bewitched by dark magic when he heard your soft giggles, hypnotizing his mind to think he was hallucinating from seeing you play with his needy head as you watched his cock twitch whenever you swiped your tongue under his frenulum. 

This was better than whatever he could’ve imagined when he fucked himself to sleep thinking of you these past nights ever since finding you.

Your lips perfectly wrapped around his aching length, and he’s choking on curses at the sensation of your warm mouth. 

“Fuck— you’re perfect,” his hand finding refuge on top of your head as he leads you in a slow pace. He truly had the prettiest cock that matched his beautiful angel-like face. You giggled again — god it sounded like heaven to his ears — as it twitched from your hold before you swirled your tongue around the pink tip, immediately tasting his precum that leaked so wonderfully out of his slit. It was salty, musky, but also a tad bit sweet? 

Gently sucking his head earned you a raspy moan out of him, so you teased him more by allowing his tip to reach your inner cheek as you tightened your mouth around his shaft. 

“God—fuck, mhm like that, baby,” he moans, a hand finding the top of your head, while the other rested on the base of your throat. Hollowing your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down his shaft as your hand rubs his tense thigh. “feel so good, sweetheart, let me in deeper,” he rasps, and you feel pride swell in your chest at his praise. 

Your hand move to fondle with his balls, massaging them gently as his hands fist his crisp white sheets, a loud grunt ringing through the room as he curses. Your tongue runs over the vein on the underside of his cock, and his knuckles go white from tensing around the sheets, his harsh grasp turning tighter and tighter as he tries to ground himself.

“g-gonna cum, baby,” he chokes, “fuck, fuck, fuck, that feels good.” you bob your head up and down his length faster, swallowing around him a few more times before his back arches and his hips raise. You let him in deeper, forcibly closing your eyes as you gagged whenever his hard tip hit further into your throat. 

“Fuck princess —” Satoru released a harsh groan, his pupils dilated and iris’ dark as he concupisciently fucked your throat. 

Thrusting into your mouth as he whines, quickly squeezing your neck to feel just how far he was rummaging your throat, his eyes rolling back when he noticed the prominent bulging of your neck before thick spurts of cum painted your throat, deeply and fully with his cum. “fuck—that’s it, sweetheart.”

His voice cracks as he lets out strings of curses, with a few more ropes of cum, his body slumps over you, leaving him panting into the room as you pop off of his cock. 

“You’re spoiling me,” he rasped out with his lips barely formimg a smile, tired from how well you took his cock, “Best fucking head I’ve ever gotten.”

—

Satoru Gojou could last for hours.

His arms caressed the smooth skin of your back, his lips feathering kisses along your bust as you saddled yourself on top of him. His cock brushing against your wet pussy, warming himself up as you meticulously moved your hips slowly in response. 

Trying to muffle your moan that escaped your lips from being too loud, Satoru wouldn’t dare let you do that. Placing a finger into your mouth, playing with your hot tongue, he ordered, “stop that — I want to hear you.” 

“Ngh!” you immediately let out, the temptation to just force his cock into you much too unbearable. But Satoru knew that would be foolish — he would easily break you if he’d done that, and how could he? When he’s finally gotten you all for himself. 

“Let me get a condom —” 

“—Wait!” you stopped him from reaching for his night stand, his drawer partially opened to peak a box of XL condoms waiting to be used, “It’s okay…” you muttered.

Brushing his finger against your cheek, making sure if it was entirely okay with you,, “are you sure? It’s not a big deal for me to wear it.”

“Yes,” nodding your head as you leaned into his touch, “yea, I’m sure.”

“You think you’re ready?” He whispered while soothing your thighs, massaging your muscles as he laid soft kisses along your neck. 

“Mhm — yes. I’m ready ah —,” your moans left breathlessly out your lips, music to his ears as he changed positions, turning you over so your back laid comfortably on the mattress.

“Baby,” reaching out for a pillow to place under your hips, “let’s start with the tip, I’ll go slow.” 

“I can take it —” his kiss stopped you from continuing. “Don’t make this harder for me,” he warned before kissing you, his lips easing your starved cunt, drooling for him to fill you up. 

You can feel Satoru soaking his length with your slick, moving his member repeatedly through your wet folds as he prepared himself to enter. “Relax for me,” Satoru cooed when he felt your tight hole repelling his entrance, “ you gotta let me in, angel.” he cooly chuckled, yet voice wasn’t anything near passive — it was impatient and starved.

The once cool room now felt hot, filled with the smell of lubricious sex as you both laid bare on his mattress. The slight pain of him pushing his head inside was quickly masked into pleasure as his hands massaged your breasts and his lips left longing stamps of love all over your body.

 “Good, just like that,” Satoru's breath was warm as he continued to slowly press his length into you, often losing composure when he pushed a little too impatiently when you clenched down on him. “Fuck you’re so tight —” he groaned, gripping on the sheets to keep his sanity before possibly splitting you open. 

It was cruel how warm you felt inside. It was as if his cock was meant to be wrapped by your plush, sultry walls, and it was destined that he would be the one to fill the empty space up to your cervix, linking you both into one body. 

You felt full, and your mind felt cloudy to clearly tell if Satoru was all the way inside you. “A-are you in all the way?” you sniffled back the tears.

If he was the devil, you were his angel that’s tempted him to total damnation, abolished from the heaven’s for his idolatry of loving you despite the gods that created him. Because there was no way, any person would not go utterly mad when they could see what he saw.

“Almost.” Satoru answered with gritted teeth, barely holding on by a threat as he continued to push himself deeper inside you. “Ahh!” you squealed, throwing your arms around his neck, unintentionally pushing him further into you. 

“S-shit,” cursing under his breath as he started to pump his cock, forcing his way inch by inch through your tight walls, until he’s finally — in what seemed like tortuous ages — kissed your cervix. It was absolutely insane how your hole perfectly stretched for him, perfectly embracing his cock as he continued to fill the void inside you. 

Satoru’s member was warm inside you. Your bodies were tingling from the intensity of your lovemaking in the dimly lit room. And when you pulled away, your eyes brimming with tears were locked in a silent exchange of yearning as he looked at you with the same longing.

Without a word, Satoru reached out and gently cupped your breast, his touch sending electricity down your spine. You leaned into his touch, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you felt the heat of his body pressing against yours. 

Your lips met once more, a tender exploration of each other’s mouths, and he was taking that chance to increase his pace. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he began to enter you again — with more grit, and force that you were clawing at his naked back, drawing harsh marks of red on his skin. You were whimpering under him, melting into his passionate movements as he fucked you in missionary. 

Your hands explored his body — his firm chest and defined six pack, to the perfect v-line down his pelvis to his pretty cock. And when you reached further down, grasping his buttocks, it felt  sculpted and perfectly round, just like how his back was now angry with his muscles bulging from the extraneous use.

Feeling you touch him, a smirk grows on his lips as he stripped you from being able to touch him, his cock pressing further in as he sat on his knees, his hands pushing your thighs to your chest. “You like what you see, sweetheart? It’s all yours.” 

Nodding as you reached out for him, “‘m cold Satoru, hold me,” you whined from the absence of his body heat made you feel suddenly empty.

He couldn’t deny your request because he quickly pressed his weight onto you, easily folding you like a chair as he fucked his cock into you, “see —” he placed a hand on your stomach, “aren’t you lucky girl, because this” he harshly rammed his cock into you, “is also all for you.”

Mine. like a hypnotic spell, a taunting melody, Satoru drilled it into your head that he was in fact all yours. 

You have had sex with Kōji countless times before, but it was never this emotional. It was never this passionate. But with Satoru, you could tangibly feel the difference in the way he kissed you, with the way he looked at you, with the way he touched you. Everything felt surreal when you were with him.

“S-satoru!” you yelped when his thrust penetrated deeper inside you, knocking your cervix as his hips slammed into your ass.

The sound of his deep chuckle slithered through your ears as he jolted his hips forward, sending you to a state of euphoria with every deep thrust. You were barely gripping onto his back, hoping it would give you some form of stability. “Focus,” he growled, the speed of his cock unforgiving as he rutted himself into your cunt, “think of me, only me.”

It wasn’t like you didn’t want to. He was just too much. It was only half past midnight and he’s already come twice. It was insane how he was still so hard, his libido still strong, as he pounded you with every bit of his strength to create more friction against your moistened cunt.

While your legs were tangled around his waist, his mouth latched onto your tit when he gave each bosom a lavish suck—even going as far as circling his tongue around your nipple. It was until he began increasing the speed of his thrusts when you could no longer contain your wanton cries, “A-Aah! S-Satoru, p-please d-don’t stop!”

“Cum,” he whispered on your ear, knowing full well that your orgasm was building back on your lower abdomen, “Cum for me, honey.”

“Satoru…” Breathless and overstimulated, your nails ended up scratching his back as you clenched around his girth, milking yourself around his cock followed by your helpless cries. Your chest was rising and falling heavily after you climaxed.

I missed you, he reasoned as he continued to pistol his cock inside you, now resting both your ankles on his shoulders as he watched your breasts rhythmically bounce around with each thrust. 

“S-satoru, I slow d-down! I just came —” Your moans came out louder than you initially expected, even louder than the skin-slapping noises from when his pelvis hit your ass. Your entire body was being pushed and pulled as he mercilessly drilled your hole with harsh jostles.

His room was dark, but even if you couldn’t see his face, you were certain that he had a million-dollar grin displayed. “Say my name.” he devilishly taunted, his voice leaving goosebumps over your body.

His shaft was already coated by slick and the squelching sounds only added to the intensity of your arousal. You barely managed out his name. “Sa-tor-u!”

“Good girl.” A wave of pleasure washed over your body when he quickly flipped you over, as the feeling of his hot breath tickled your spine. Your legs were shaking while your head fell on the cushion, leaving your ass up high and your face down low. 

His fingers were teasing your entrance despite already being stretched by his fully erected cock—satiating your clit with circular movements in synchronization with his penetrative actions. Satoru just adored how you clenched around him even through his words alone and that dominance he had over you was fueling his God complex. You could feel him trying to angle his cock better as he watched how it was disappearing from the cavern between your plump folds. And for him, nothing could look more perfect, more beautiful that your cunt stretched out so nicely to fit his cock.

“Ngh! So good… so good,” you whimpered in a breathless voice, upper body pressed against the mattress as he worked on destroying your pussy. Despite his devilish being, Satoru certainly fucked like a god as he sent you to seventh heaven when his tip rammed your g-spot. “Aah—ah! Fuck!”

Conniving. So wretching cunning. He certainly wasn’t lying when he said he fucked well — too well, was the problem.

Pulling his hips back so that he’s just almost pulled out completely before he slams back into you, pressing against your sweet spot with his tip in the way only he would ever allow you to know. He’s gone through countless simulations as he fucked his fists thinking of how’d you look when making love. He knows where to kiss and hold and touch to make your eyes flutter shut, and your mouth fall open, wanton moans falling past your lips without a care in the world who can hear. 

“so tight, baby,” he whines, “god you’re so perfect—my perfect girl.” 

“so full,” you gasp, desperately holding onto the pillow for dear life, “feel so good —fuck.”

“'m getting jealous of a pillow,” he warns, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he pulled the pillow away, a vein bulging from his temple, “but look at you, it’s a shame you can’t see what I see. Then you’d know why I can’t keep my hands off of you and so jealous — it’s fucking impossible.”

The increased roughness and speed in his pace caused you a shockwave of intense sensual gratification that sent you to euphoria. The moans and the salacious sounds that came from his rough pace drowned your room with a surge of bliss because Gojo never once stopped from plowing your cunt with his hardened member, deepening and hitting your most sensitive spot each time he penetrated you.

You can’t speak—all you can offer him as he’s bullying his thick girth into you is a pathetic whine as his veins drag along your walls, as his navel bumps along your clit and has your head thrown into the mattress. 

“P-please,” you begged, doing whatever you could to reach back and holding onto him.

You could feel a thick slick smeared along your inner thigh, the wet sound of his cock fucking into you, ringing in your ears along with his deep groans as he pants harshly against your ear. You can feel his breath against your skin, can feel the goosebumps and the flutter of your walls every time he makes a pretty little sound for you as you squeeze around him. 

With each thrust, you can’t help but be reminded when he pushes into you like he was always meant to fit right there, like he was always meant to feel you as you feel him too. 

“Love you,” he says between moans, face digging into your neck as your hand cradles the back of his head, his arms forcing you up, back arching into a bow as he continuously fucked you. “You’re my perfect, perfect girl. Can you feel me?” he gathers your other hand, covering your lower stomach to push down for you to feel a hard lump that angrily moved inside you, “this is what you do to me?”

You nod between sharp gasps and he holds you in wonder, at the way your lips look when they murmur that sweet little cry of his name, at the way your pussy sucks him in and hugs too tightly around him, at the way you look so good with the slight sheen of sweat on your face as you took his cock perfectly in. 

His hips roll, a little sloppy in rhythm now still fucking you just as hard and deep, just before letting you both fall onto the mattress with his weight pressing you down. Despite this being the first time he’s fucked you, he can sense it—the way you’re just about to fall apart on his cock, just like you always did in his dreams. So he pushes a hand underneath, pressing a thumb to your clit, rubbing harsh circles that make you clench on him harder as you cry out moans that sound so mellifluous to his ears.

Biting your lip, you closed your eyes and absorbed the pleasuring feeling of his member that was plowing your velvet walls. Your dulcet moans with the combination of his sexy grunts echoed through your shared room in overflowing titillation. You wanted nothing else for him to fill you up again, just like he did with your throat hours ago.

“you close, sweetheart? gonna cum for me? 

“yeah,” you breathe, kissing him with hot, open-mouthed kisses that he returns, “ ‘m so close—f-fuck, so close, baby.”

You know he is. It’s in the way his cock twitches and the way his hips are desperate in the way they roll into you tells you he’s just as close to falling apart as you are. You push your hips up to meet his thrusts, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt before you feel the coil snap as you cum—hard. Your walls flutter around him, spasming and squeezing around him as he inhales sharply.

“I’m near,” he announced, spreading out your thighs with his knees, his balls slamming onto your buttocks as he has you pinned down from above, fucking you like his sex doll. He fucked at an animalistic speed, forcing you to grip his forearm as his force pushed you into his headrest — your body lower region feeling sore from the sheer amount he’s fucked you.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,“ he said it with a chuckle, his thrust unrelinquishing and you couldn’t help but absolutely adore just how he stared at you, held you like you were the most precious thing in the world. And it only took a couple seconds for that softness to fade into lust as though the sex god in him manifested before you. “Feels. So. Fucking… Good!” His breathy grunts were released when his hips fell out of rhythm. 

“f-fuck, baby—’m gonna…” he doesn’t get to finish before you feel his cock twitch and his cum fills you. It’s hot and thick, sticky with every rope he fucks into you, leaking past his tip and painting your walls white. 

You can feel the mess he makes—can feel the drops leak and drip along your inner thighs as he slams into you with choked whines of your name. “god—” he gasps, breathless as his face digs into the crook of your neck, hugging you with his weight pressed on top of you as his arms tremble. 

Hot spurts of seed were shot straight to your womb, ensuring that every drop of his cum were loaded to your cervix. When he pulled out, you could feel his warm semen seeping out of your entrance because you were clenching naturally, twitching to keep his cum in. As you gasped for air, Satoru was very much proud knowing just how much he had cum inside of you.

Panting, “I love you,” he confessed, pecking your bruised lips.

Your mouth vibrated against his. “Mm— me too.” you tiredly responded back. Every inch of your body felt sore to even move.

It’s silent for a bit. Only the harsh, labored pants as you both tried to calm down and catch your breaths echoed in his bedroom. Satoru still had his nose buried against your neck, shifting his weight to the side as he slowly flipped you over on your back, hugging you tightly as your hands soon rubbed over his back tenderly.

You notice a indent on his left scapula, your fingers tracing the scar most likely caused from the impact of falling down the stairs years ago. You kissed his shoulder as you weaved your fingers through his sweaty scalp, confessing your love for the first time, “I love you.” 

“Yea I know,” he grunted before lifting himself up to cage your head between his arms, his heavy body intimately pressed on top of your smaller frame, “You were obsessed with marrying me when you didn’t even have your front teeth —”

“Shut up,” you pinched his cheeks, getting an exaggerated ow! from your lover. “You never said no to my proposal, so you’re just as obsessed.”

“I never denied it,” his expression changes before he pressed his lips onto yours, deepening the kiss.

“Satoru.” his name breathlessly flowed out your lips, music to his ears from the years of his silent yearning for you to call him. “We need to shower, your sheets are dirty —”

“we need to clean up—” another kiss “— and oh god your couch —”

“just one more,” he insisted, his tongue making his way into your mouth.

Pushing him away, you’re met with an obviously offended look. “You have work tomorrow, and I have a night shift after work,” 

“I’m rich, I have more than enough money for you to quit your jobs,” he obviously stated, “and that fucktard isn’t not your responsibility anymore. So look at me, take care of me, I’m needy and need your kisses now.” he tried pushing himself onto you.

But you press a hand to his mouth, blocking his lips from touching yours as he pouts against you, but he still presses himself closer thinking that’ll make you succumb to his desires.

“Nope.”

He grumbles, muffling something incoherent against your palm. You roll your eyes, amused at how you’ve come to love this manchild, moving your hand to cup his cheek as you stroke his lips with your thumb.

“If you’re good,” you press firmly on his bruised flesh, inciting a small painful flinch from your lover, “I’ll kiss you all you want if you do as I say.”

“No,” he moped, “you’d still kiss me when I’m bad, so what’s the point?”

“So you admit you’re bad,” you raise a brow, making him grin cheekily, “I thought you’d always listen and be good.”

“I can be,” he shrugs, “but fucking god I love it when you put me in my place.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you tiredly sighed, releasing control to give him what he wanted. It only makes him chuckle, leaning in again as his lips hover over yours, making you inhale sharply as you feel his breath fan over your mouth before kissing you for the millionth time. “Heh I’ll always win.”

With him kissing you, you’d think everything that had happened last night was nothing more than a fever dream. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the comfort of his arms around you, it all felt surreal — like a glass menagerie teetering on the edge of shattering. You wondered if it would be okay to stay here for now — to be loved by and to love him deeply. To forget about the rest of the damn world and its burdens by simply remaining in his arms, resting in his comfort as you stared at his beautiful face, listening to his slow and steady heartbeat.

At that exact moment, as you moved together in perfect harmony, breathing each other’s air while being intimately held in each other’s arms, you felt his heartbeat radiating to your chest, beating oh so loudly as it healthily pumped blood to his body, signaling he was indeed alive. And it was in his presence alone, that he fills you with comfort.

And in that, with Gojo Satoru, you knew that you were finally home.

—

Hours later when you were asleep in his arms, Satoru receives a text.

From: Ijichi

Mr. Nakamura and Miwayaki-san have both been notified of their termination. Furthermore, as instructed, all and any neighboring companies would be promptly alerted if they ever submit their applications for a job. Miwayaki-san will have her apartment stripped from her, and all debts of Mr. Nakamura will be doubled to account for interest and all payments made on his behalf would be returned to the original payer. 

author's note: wow... if you've read up to the end, I just want to say thank you for giving this a chance. I was hesitant on releasing this, especially with the wc being so long ... but if you've enjoyed it, then that's all that matters. have a good one (o˘◡˘o)

◞   ROTTEN.

꒰ satoru loves having you as his wife and spoiling you. ꒱

ᴍᴅɴɪ. 5.1k. f!reader. no curses, marriage au. domestic fluff. humor. smut. oral – m+f rec. mating press-ish. sex on surfaces. ceo!satoru x anthropology major!reader. gojo’s old money n nepotism. reader’s a sub but she’s very type a lmao so she’s a tiny dom if you squint. nsfw. reposted. 

being married to gojo satoru has its perks, the biggest being his overwhelming desire to spoil you rotten, despite it becoming a burden for you over time.

satoru is only happy if you get what you want by any means; the only problem seems to be your complete lack of desire for him to do such a thing, at least, not for material things. the first half of him courting you was a string of lavish gifts where he flaunted his wealth and showed you his promise to provide. it was bouquet after bouquet being sent to your house and your job; the first one was sweet, but the rest were obnoxious.

it was all edible arrangements and designer bags. it was impromptu trips on his helicopter if he asked what you were doing and you said you were bored, diamond keychains just because you texted him a complaint that you lose your keys too often. once he decided he wanted you, there was nothing he wasn’t willing to give you, nothing he wasn’t willing to give up, all for the sake of having you.

to him, it was just a matter of figuring out what to give you, so he simply committed to trying everything he could think of until he hit a bullseye. he was devastated to find that you thought unnecessary displays of wealth to be tactless and lacking genuine effort. it didn’t help him at all in his endeavor to gain even a flicker of your romantic attention. you reminded him that you’re a woman, not a wishlist, and from that day on—with all his eliminated options for pleasing you in tow—satoru dug deeper to try and find what might make your heart tick-tick-tick-boom for him and explode into a chaotic flurry of adoration and reciprocated devotion. this meant he needed to know you more, know you better. after that, you were most certainly doomed. he took your heart before you even knew it belonged to him. he started asking the right questions and learning your habits. it took no time at all for him to figure out you were a type a, hyper-organized neat freak with a borderline romantic obsession for your calendar. of everything, your time both means the most and contains the most intrinsic value. so satoru learned to spoil you rotten with different types of time, and that somehow led to you falling head over heels in love with a man who is genuinely your opposite in almost every way, and marrying him, too. he enriches your experiences while perfectly adhering to your specific preferences for how time should be dispersed. whatever your itinerary says is what goes, and satoru seems utterly delighted to live that way with you. everything about him is a contradiction, though. see, gojo satoru is a natural disaster of a man. he somehow pirouettes through the halls with grace but leaves a trail of his carelessness wherever he goes in the same breath. keeping him from turning your home into a brutal aftermath is a maddening feat, but being in love with him is possibly the simplest equation you’ve ever solved. living with him is a headache, and his nonchalance is excessive, but being married to him is the same thing as blinking: instinctual, habitual, something you do without even thinking of it as something that’s being done. you love it like this, moseying around his chaos in gentle frustration, being the order that reigns in some of his reckless behavior and obnoxious demeanor.

he teaches you a lot about freedom, too. he teaches you how to budge because he’s water and air; all he does is flow, shift, ebb, and flux while you’re a stockpile of earth and nothing else. you can’t be a mountain of a girl because unpredictable ridges don’t suit you. you’re more a pyramid of a girl; you’re still all earth, carved and unmoved, but your every angle is calculated and purposeful. every groove is crafted with intent. you don’t deviate from your habitual nature unless it serves a purpose. even then, the purpose must have a genuine impact. but being with satoru while simultaneously being certain of your commitment to him means that both of you have to compromise in order to coexist. it means you have to find an orderly way to navigate the monstrosity that is his erratic tendencies. 

now, it’s friday. today is a scheduled day of chaotic movements in the gojo household, and that is a compromise for the two of you. the type of busyness that takes place in this unusually large but quaint manor is organized chaos, a structured mess that only you and your husband make sense of and indulge in easily. for the both of you, navigating your sporadic bouts of time is starting to feel as natural as breathing. as it stands now, you have forty-five minutes until class; that’s forty-five minutes you have to disperse between your husband, practicality, and your commute. you need ten minutes to bustle around and get ready. you need a maximum of fifteen to get to campus. that leaves satoru with twenty to make you cum. but he’s still in a meeting for another ten minutes. the overlap is treated with caution but still disregarded as a hindrance. in conclusion, it’s friday; it’s a busy day. so naturally, satoru has you locked in his office, totally naked, with you laid back and spread out longways across his desk while he sits tall in his chair, smirking at your parted legs before dipping his head down for a taste. he’s mid-meeting with his team about acquiring yet another business to mold into a new branch of his company’s reach. you’re trying your hardest to keep quiet at the feeling of his long, slender fingers sliding in and out of you during his own responses and his tongue lapping in greedy swipes over your swollen clit when he could safely mute the call. underneath your breathy moans and quiet mewls for more, satoru’s partners all bicker about the best way to lean into successful acquisition. you hear the familiar voice of shoko ieiri flood the speaker. “if we send nanami to do it, he’ll get them convinced on the numbers, sure, but he’s not getting a signature.” “keep quiet, baby, yeah?” satoru’s head lifts, and his torso straightens. the large hand he uses to grip your thigh now reaches to unmute the call. “at this point, it’s a worthless interaction that costs me money if he doesn’t leave with a signature. not him.” his fingers never stop their gentle pumping into your hole, a lazy repetition, as he speaks. you bite your lip, but you know it won’t be enough to stop the sounds you want to make. satoru must know it, too. you see the red blink of the phone light; you whimper in both pleasure and relief. “you’re right, in that sense. the back and forth is becoming too expensive to keep dancing around an answer or a commitment. if we foot the cost to go there again, we need to come out of it with an answer.” suguru sighs after muttering his confession. you hear shoko speaking up again, but the words are drowned under the sound of your sudden moan as satoru’s fingers graze against your g-spot. all the voices on the call start to become a dizzy blur, just a rattle of endless noise. “baby,” you whine. “i can’t do this.” the neediness you freely exude only spurs him on, his mouth’s attention returning right back to the sensitive bud feeling abandoned by his tongue, your hips motioning closer to his face, closer to his mouth and his perfect tongue. “sure y’can, angel.” his voice is a warm vibration against your cunt. a palm pushes against your thigh as his lips pucker and press a tender kiss your clit. “it’s right there in your little itinerary. says it’s all me time.” and he isn’t wrong. this is his twenty minutes to make you cum as he pleases; that’s the compromise here, but he’s too languid in his movements, too loose with his grasp on the time you both have. there’s not enough of it for him to play with you the way you know he wants to. when he pulls his fingers out of you completely, panic starts to settle in, an immediate whimper of disapproval. satoru is the type that gets his thrills out of making others squirm, and even for all his love for you, you’re not exempt from that desire.

“toru, we don’t have time for this.” you whine. your voice becomes strained as he huffs, ends the call without a word, and stands, towering over you as he settles between your legs and undoes the buckle of his belt. his pants and boxers fall quickly, thick cock free, now gripped in a strong hand. the head is swollen and leaking with precum, his veins prominent all along his shaft. he strokes himself in anticipation. his blue eyes lock on to you. “this is all you have time for right now. me and all the cum i’m gonna fuck into you.” satoru grabs your hips and slides you down just a bit closer to him. it’s the last thing he says before he hooks your legs on his shoulders and guides himself right into your entrance. there’s a shaky intake of air and a soft whimper as he watches your cunt stretch to accommodate his size, snug walls clinging to his length and begging to be filled with him.

and you are desperate to be filled with him. the string of pleas for more of him, more of his cock, for all of his cum is more than enough evidence that you are. “need it on my cock, baby.” he pants in desperation rutting in and out of you. “need it sticky and messy all over my cock.” his soft, shaky pants become frantic, needy whines when he sinks himself in deep, pressing his body on top of you as his tongue swirls your nipple. your knees are now against your chest while his hand squeezes your breast and he grinds himself rhythmically into your weeping pussy with determined and desperate grunts. your cry of pleasure is accompanied by the sound of his office phone ringing diligently. “t-toru,” a ragged whine. with an audibly wet noise, satoru frees his lips from your chest and shakes his head lightly. his body lifts slightly, one hand cupping and squeezing your breast, pinching and twisting at your nipple while his other arm clutches your thigh to rock himself in and out of you easily. “can’t finish my meeting until you cum. know y’can do it, baby. perfect pussy always so good for me.” you almost can’t take it. here you were doubting him for taking his time and in only a few moments, he has your pussy leaking around his length and your body filled with so much heat, you feel like you might explode. when his playful, lithe fingers leave your nipples so his thumb can circle your clit in loving rounds, you erupt with praise and pleas for him. your gut tightens as you whimper. “yes, baby. yes, yes. so close.” your walls start to flutter around his cock and satoru gasps, a throaty groan following the feeling. “i know. god, you’re so fucking tight, baby.” it’s the whiney edge in his voice, the neediness in his tone that sends you tumbling over the edge, your heat spasming around his cock wildly as your body fills with hot bliss. “baby,” satoru whimpers, his moans breathy and hysteric. “gonna cum, baby. baby, god. your pussy is so tight, feels so good cumming around my cock.” erratic thrusts and stickiness, that’s all you feel and hear between his senseless babbling. “i love you, baby. i love you so mu—ah! cumming, baby. cumming cumming. take it. take all my cum. gonna fill you up. all me. all my cum, baby. fuck, fuck, fuck.” all of his weight falls on you like an avalanche, knees to your chest all over again as satoru buries his face into your neck and pushes himself balls-deep into your pulsing pussy. his thick cock twitches in quick succession as spurt after spurt of his warm seed spills out of him. his feathery moans are all that fill the air at the feeling of you constricting around him as he cums. the phone keeps ringing and now so do your ears, your head stuffed with so much pressure you feel light-headed. his phone finally goes silent, but across the room, your phone’s alarm sounds off and satoru whines, the weight of his body feeling heavier and heavier by the moment.

“don’t move. don’t move.” he begs in a soft whine, rutting languidly. “fucking it in, baby. don’t move. need it to stay inside.” on the outside, you’re just doing your best to catch your breath, but internally, you smile. you know him all too well. your alarm was three minutes early, as per usual, to account for his endless need to take more than what he knows he’s supposed to have. after a moment, satoru’s movement dies and he sighs softly, his lips puckering against your neck. “can you come home for lunch? will miss you too much for you to be gone all day.” “sorry, baby. no can do. i have two classes really close together. it’s unrealistic i can make it for lunch. now i love you dearly, but get your big ass off me.” he can’t stifle his laughter. “not until you tell me you’ll come home for lunch.” “satoru,” your voice becomes stern. “i have a daily itinerary to adhere to and you’re grossly aware of it.” he grumbles, “emphasis on gross.” “shut up and get off or this eats into our time later on, and you know i’ll get every second owed to me that you steal. as of right now, you have thirty seconds until i start collecting interest.” groaning, satoru rises, eyes fixated on your cunt as he pulls out. “fine, but i’m coming to see you for lunch then.” “you have a meeting approximately ten minutes after my class ends.” you remind him, to which he shrugs. “i’ll reschedule it for later on while you’re in class. i want to see you, and i’m going to, so don’t fight me on it.” and you try your best to fight off the swarm of butterflies at how casually he throws out his own events to coincide with yours. he understands you’re unwilling to budge on this particular front, and his labor of love is always willing to be moved both by you and for you. he thrives on personal chaos to fulfill your desires for order. “i won’t fight.” you promise sweetly, earning a gentle kiss to your forehead. with a loving smile, he murmurs, “that’s my baby. let’s get you cleaned up and out the door before you and your precious itinerary have a conniption.”

thus far, your day is going exactly as planned, even with the impromptu addition of lunch with satoru. it was soft and quaint, filled mostly with adoring gazes and tangled fingers as you ate. satoru did have to also work while he stayed with you, but a tiny sliver of his attention is a small sacrifice for getting to have lunch with him just because living with you, waking up with you, and going to sleep with you is simply not enough time for him. he wants all the moments in-between, too. you’re organized with time and he’s greedy with it. you leave in separate cars; though, it’s hard to get satoru to detach. you have to keep reminding him that you’re both married and share a home. it’s not until you promise that you’ll be home no later than four and he better be ready for you that he lets you go to continue the rest of your day. when you finally arrive home, you’re giggling and giddy, your phone in your hand and tapping away at the screen to alert your husband of your arrival.

you: i’ll be in our room naked for round two. only have thirty minutes until my study session. i have you penned for twenty minutes. gonna finger myself till you join. satoru: don’t you dare fuckin touch yourself. on my way.

you giggle to yourself as you enter your shared room. once the door closes behind you, your clothes and everything underneath all fall to the floor only to be tossed into a designated hamper. of course, you fit another quickie with your favorite man into your schedule since your study group will take up the rest of your time until the late evening. and right before your next event is a convenient overlap between his own meetings as well. satoru saunters into the room only a moment later, pulling his shirt off as soon as he walks in, and makes his way over to you, his mouth finding yours very easily and very roughly. “you know i hate when you start without me.” he gripes against your lips. his hand goes up to your breast, squeezing and thumbing at your nipple, earning a salacious moan from you. “i didn’t, baby.” you promise. “i kept my hands to myself.” he groans pleasurably, nodding. “as you fuckin’ should.” his head dips down to your neck, leaving little kisses there. you feel his teeth grazing against your skin like he wants to bite you but restrains himself. you tug on his belt looped through his jeans. “‘toru, can these please come off?” he nods. “gotta be quick. i have a meeting in ten.” “no,” you protest. “i had you down for twenty minutes. make them wait.” you’re giving him your best innocent eyes: eyes completely open, showing off the shape and size, irises peering into his as a silent plea. your head is tilted down ever so slightly, and your lips are set in a soft pout. it all makes you seem as if all you have is honorable, organized intent, but really, you want him to ruin you and you want him to choose you over anything else. a groan. “fuck, you know i love when you look at me like that. you’re such a little brat, always getting what you want.” you nod. “i do love having my way.” “i love when you have your way.” he murmurs, his palms cradling your cheeks. “i want you to always have your way when it comes to me. you’re a little brat, but you’re my brat.” “i’ve been demoted from baby to brat?” satoru chuckles. “believe it or not, it’s a promotion. you’re baby and a brat. you’re already spoiled to death by me.” “and i don’t always ask for it or enjoy it.” you note pointedly, eyeing him sideways. satoru looks at you skeptically. “so…we should return that miss dior perfume? the chanel, too?” you’ve may have finally started to come around to the idea of him buying things for you, even expensive things. as long as they served an adequate purpose. truthfully, he did it anyway, with or without request from you about it. it’s not as impulsive, frequent, or obsessive as before, which you relish in, but you really are spoiled to death. if your eyes linger on things for too long, satoru assumes you want it and doesn’t want to ask only to have you lie and say no, so he just gets it. now, you’ve asked him for something.

at the time, he was so shocked about it, he looked around to see if you were possibly speaking to someone else, actually. after a moment, he told you whatever it was, get it. get as much of it as you wanted. so for that one time, you did. ꒰ and you were very nervous when they rang up at just over $180. you looked at him to ensure it was okay, but he wasn’t paying attention, just smiling like a fool and borderline impatient to insert his card. ꒱ “don’t be absurd, ‘toru.” this drags a laugh out of him. “the two things i actually ask you for and you say you’ll return it? you’re a sick man.” he nods. “absolutely. now, undo my belt for me, will you, baby? we have some time, but not too much, and we have so much to do.” he runs his thumb across your lower lip, exactly what he does when he’s going to make you put your mouth on it. he thinks your lips are prettiest with his dick between them, and you agree. you put your mouth around his thumb and take it into your mouth instead, sucking on the tip of it. he groans as he watches you do it.

“let me tell you my itinerary for right now, baby.” you start. “you’re gonna put me on the dresser, just like you had me on your desk this morning. you’re gonna hold my hips and fuck me right there.” “but when i’m ready to cum, you’re gonna get down on your knees and let me fuck your throat. you’re gonna swallow it, because we’re in a hurry and you know i don’t want to clean up. then i’m getting a second taste of you. and lastly, you’re definitely going to have to fix your hair, but you’re going to have to do it while i fuck from the back.” you wipe your mouth because you’re quite literally drooling. “i thought this was my itinerary.” “it is, baby. it’s your world. i’m just adding footnotes.“ “fine, but only because i like them.” your fingers are fumbling to get his belt open and to pull it out of the loops. when you’re done, you look up to him, waiting on him to tell you what to do next. but he doesn’t. his jeans and boxers come off almost instantly. he tilts your chin up and kisses you, and then sticks his tongue right into your mouth, swirling his all over yours, even sucking on the tip of it, which instantly makes you moan in his grasp. “dresser.” he says. of course, you understand it’s a command, an order. so you scurry off the bed, padding across the room and standing by the dresser. when he comes behind you, he picks up your body and places you on its surface. he looks over you, licking his lips in anticipation. “no way i’ll ever get over you.” he says decidedly. “not a chance in hell.” “i know.” you respond. “even if you did…i’d bring you back. let’s be clear, baby. even if you don’t want me, you have me. i’m more of a forever type of problem.” satoru’s moan is strangled. “c’mere. and tilt up a little for me, baby.” you do as you’re told and tilt up just enough so he can slide in. he won’t have an issue doing so. you’re so wet, he hums in pleasure when you open your legs. you’re always ready for him. if you’re not, he’ll probably be crushed. his fingers are sliding up and down the seam of your folds. and slowly, he dips a finger just into the entrance of you. now you’re whimpering, watching him smile at you, pretty eyes so full of pride. he pulls his finger out and pops it into his mouth right in front of you, then comes back with two. “‘toru,” you sigh, head lulling back. “all you’ve been today is good. phenomenal. handled all the chaos so well. made time for me to have lunch with you. now, you’re this fucking wet for me before we even start playing? baby, you’ve been a fucking star today.” you moan, feeling him massage your entrance with two of his fingers. you try to speak, but each time you part your lips, a moan escapes you. “you’re a spoiled fucking brat, but you’re spoiled because you’re always such a good girl for me.” you feel him lining his member up with your entrance, one hand gripping your hips for some minor support. and when he slides inside of you, you both let out two moans that could genuinely be mistaken for harmonization. “see?” he pants, using both of his hands to grip you as he slides in and out of you with ease. “so ready for me…fuck, you’re…so wet, baby.” “always ready for you.” you start to whine. “faster, ‘toru.” “anything you want, baby.” when his speed picks up, so does his panting. his fingers dig into your hips, holding on tight while he rams into you, sharp breaths between his moans. “mmmph…the best pussy…the best pussy. so, fucking wet for me. ahh,” his moan is drawn; his head goes back. “fuck, tell me who this pussy belongs to.” every time he slides in and out of you, you mewl. he adds pressure on your clit and softly circles his fingers around it, your voice rising an octave. “it’s yours, satoru. all of me. i’m yours.” you promise. “fuck, you’re so fucking good to me. you’re so good to your pussy.”

“yeah, baby?” he reaches one hand up and palms your breast, playing with your hard nipples. “you belong to me? my little play thing?” “yeah, i belong to you.” his grip gets tighter, and you know he’s getting closer. “your tight, little pussy. all yours.” he pulls out abruptly. “fuck, get on your knees, baby. it’s time to remind me how perfect your mouth is. come taste your pussy on me.” you reach for him, grabbing. your legs are too sore to just jump down. “fucking cute,” he breathes, eyes melting. he picks you up and places you back on the floor. “knees, pretty girl.” you drop down instantly and he smiles, pressing his dick to the line of your lips, and you open to let him in. he starts slow, enjoying the feeling your mouth sucking him in over and over. then his pace abandons all tender sentiment, chasing his high instead. “this mouth, this perfect fucking mouth, i’m gonna fucking cum.” he holds your head down and you feel his warm streams of cum filling up your mouth. knowing he’s very likely to check, you swallow the thick liquid in one, big gulp when he pulls out. his cock glistens with the wetness of your mouth. “open up, baby. let me make sure you did what you were told.” looking up at him, you open your mouth. “so good for me. every fucking time. mkay, up. time to cum on my tongue, baby.” you shake your head. “we’re running out of time.” “no way,” he groans, utterly shocked. he looks at his watch. “fuck, are you kidding me? i’m already late. i’m trying to eat you out before my meeting.” you giggle and stand to your feet. “later this evening, i suppose. we’ll have all the time in the world.” “okay, baby,” he sighs. “by the way, will you wear that black pencil skirt i like and a white blouse tonight? please? i’m going for sexy librarian helps hopeless nerd.” you snort a quick laugh. “yeah, whatever you say, baby.” you receive a kiss to your temple for your obedience. “good girl. also, i was looking at something for you. it’s a bit expensive, but i want to get it for you because i want you to have the best of everything.” “what is it, baby?” a dramatic and exaggerated sigh. the way he smiles when you don’t immediately protest melts your heart, honey oozing in your gut, but you won’t ever full-on deny him again. you kind of like being his spoiled little brat. you won’t tell him that, though, or you fear the gifts will be endless. “i know you really like your planner, but i read that tablets are incredibly useful as a planner, maybe even a little easier. we can get you the pen and everything to go with it.” you remember that megumi had mentioned how digital planning was much more convenient. you disagree. if it broke and the information wasn’t backed up, you’d lose all of your efforts of organization, but satoru wants to give you a gift he genuinely thinks will help you. he isn’t trying to get you something expensive just to get it. it’s a thoughtful gift. it’s his endeavor to let you know he supports you wholeheartedly. everyone thinks you’re a fool for bothering with university if you’re only going to major in anthropology and be married to one of the richest men from one of the richest families in the country, but satoru thinks anything you want to do is exactly what you should do. he’ll root for you regardless. he’s always going to be the loudest cry of encouragement you hear. him being the only cry doesn’t hurt at all. it holds you on days when you look around you and question the authenticity of your own existence. you smile. “hmm. okay, ‘toru.” “yeah?” he asks happily, a fond smile taking over his lips. “no objections?” a shake of your head. “i’m a spoiled brat now. i let my husband spoil me senselessly.” “mine,” he says in response, arms wrapping around your waist. “will give you anything you want. just ask me. love gettin’ you things, but love it more when you let me fulfill a personal request.”

“okay…” you agree. “i’ll…work on getting more comfortable asking. you know how i feel about spending money on frivolous things.” “when you asked me to buy you those perfumes, i felt so good being able to step up and get it for you, to take care of any need you had. you’re mine. my forever girl. my spoiled little brat. my baby. my responsibility. if i’m your husband, tell me when you want anything. please, okay?” you nod. “mrs. gojo will make sure mr. gojo is aware of all her desires so they may be promptly fulfilled.” as soon as you finish, his palms are holding your cheeks and leaning down to give you a chaste but tender kiss. “you don’t know how much that just made my heart melt in my chest.” “are we not married?” you ask playfully. a slow and thorough kiss, one that feels like spring the way everything inside of him blossoms to life in a breath and a beat. “we are.” “then why are you acting surprised?” your raised brow and gentle swaying. satoru shakes his head. it’s not shocking in the slightest, just an eruption of unconditional, unyielding love that explodes and seeps and melts everything into a blissful pool of his own adoration. “m’not surprised at all. just really fuckin’ in love.” with a smile, you lean into him. “me, too, ‘toru.”

tags: @houseofsolisoccasum <33

hallooo,it's me again:)) may I request soshiro x reader forced marriage angst but happy ending

I hope I'm not bothering you:). it's ok if you don't want to make it

a/n: i could never say no to such a beautiful request! i love writing angst muahaha

pairing: hoshina soshiro x blind!reader

cw: forced marriage, physical and emotional abuse

genre: angst/ hurt comfort/romance/fluff [wc: 2,9k ]

a/n: this story takes place in the meiji era!

a/n: i am so upset the fic idea in my head was so cute but now that im proof reading its ass 😭 i am so not satisfied with this but maybe a part two will safe it idk rip 😭 and i have to post something can't have u guys go to bed/work/whatever unfed 😔

edited a/n: is this even forced marriage omg 😭🐵

still, enjoy!

A Vision of Love | Hoshina Soshiro

The world around you had long lost its colors. Your vision was plagued, cursed to pick up the world in vibrations and tones instead of images.

The gods have plotted against your existence long before you had been born, cursing the path you were destined to walk on with failure and hardship.

“You are no child of mine!”

The feeling of your father's hand was imprinted in both your memories and mind. A gruesome sensation, one that had no problems seeking you unannounced. On some days the beast would simply barge into your chambers, striking you to his heart's content.

And for what? All for being unable to carry out his legacy.

“Blind and weak, we should have killed you the second we saw those impurities!”

No day passed by when he wasn't cursing your existence but you had been all too used to it..

You sat kneeled on the engawa of your estate, scrubbing the long corridor facing the entrance. It was one of the many tasks given to you which had to be completed by noon. Pearls of sweat accumulated on your forehead, dripping down the side of your face and staining the cloth of your clothes but that told you that you were almost done.

You heard voices chatting in the distance. Some belonging to your family members and others to the Kaseifu, yet you were able to make out three voices foreign to your ears.

“Please come this way.”

Your father greeted the guests with fake hospitality. It irked you immensely, listening to him put up an act of dishonesty but there was nothing you could have done about it.

As soon as you finished up your work, you brought away the cloth and the rag and hurried back to your room using the back entrance. No using the main entrance when guests are around– another strict rule you had to follow.

They stopped bothering you a long time ago, the harsh rules and strict regulations forced upon you by your family. It was unfortunately not just your father who harassed you but also your mother and siblings– though their approaches of breaking your spirit were more subtle. They whispered and gossiped, calling you all kinds of names to lower your spirit.

All to make themselves feel better.

Your family was a renown clan known for its fighting skills and birthing people of strong flesh. In the world of Kaiju slayers, your family stood on top with another handful of carefully selected clans. But as dysfunctional as you were, ripped of your vision at birth and your laughable body, there was no place for you in the limelight. Thus you had been hidden away in the back of your clan, mixed with the maids and housekeepers to keep the knowledge about your existence to a minimum.

But all that was about to change.

“Lady Y/n.”

The voice of Madam Kiyoko called out for you, the only woman to treat you with kindness in this place.

“Yes, Madam Kiyoko?”

The woman's voice was gentle and sweet, like honey and milk. It calmed your heart and made you feel loved in a way you were unable to experience anywhere else. But this time something lingered in her voice? A hint of grief? Frustration? Even without seeing her face, you somehow knew that the woman was not displaying a smile on her lips.

“I was sent by your father. ..You are to pack your things immediately and prepare yourself for permanent departure..”

“Permanent..excuse me?” The tone in Kiyoko's voice painted your ears, so much that you wished to cover them and hide away.

“Your father has..given you away to another family, therefore I wish to congratulate you on your engagement.” The fabrics of Kiyoko's Kimono shifted, hinting to you that she had gone down to her knees.

There was no word that could properly describe the look of horror on your face. Pain, disgust and vexation– all these emotions tugged on your heart, forcing it to fall into unbearable agony. You suddenly felt all strength leaving your legs, forcing you to fall to the ground.

Hot tears ran down your face as you allowed muffled cries to escape your mouth. You wanted to scream and curse, run over to your father and rip all air from his lungs..

But you of all people knew too well that this day would have come sooner or later.

How else were you going to get engaged? You, who was unable to leave her house without supervision. You, who was seen as garbage in her own home. This was long overdue.

“Lady Y,n..we mustn't waste any time.” Madam Kiyoko spoke, her arms wrapping around yours to lift you back up.

“No..I don't want to, they can't do this!” Although living here was torture, it was the only home you have ever know. A small part of you always hoped to just die here. Life was cruel but at least there was food and a bed waiting for you at the end of each day. There was no telling how the people outside these gates were going to treat a blind woman like you, especially a family selected by your father. The unknown was much more intimidating than the familiar horrors.

“Child, I beg of you to grasp your heart and look at the future with confidence.” The woman tried to encourage you to take the situation with pride. But you couldn't. The fact that someone had accepted you as a wife could only mean that they were worse off than you. Who else would accept such worthless and weak soul into their family? Or perhaps they were like your family, looking forward to abuse and make use of you.

“You musn't refuse your duty as a woman, Lady Y/n, as a daughter of this house. I beg you.” Madam Kiyoko pulled you back up and dusted your Kimono.

“I know that this treatment is unjust and sudden, but anywhere in this world is better than here.”

“But I don't mind the horror! The pain and the humiliation..because I have you..”

Once again the tone in the woman's voice tugged on your heartstrings. The truth in her statement tasted bitter on your tongue. You did not wish to admit that she was right, that living here was a hell your body couldn't bear much longer.

Madam Kiyoko walked you to your chambers and helped you pack your belongings. There wasn't much, only a few essentials which you held dear. As you were preparing for your departure, you heard a soft chuckle from behind you.

“I heard that the Hoshina clan is as good as useless in this modern day and age, since the Kaiju have grown in size.” One of your sisters snickered from behind you.

“Yeah, and that their sons are as incapable as they come.” Your brother mocked.

Their voices were mere background sounds, easy to blend out. Your fingers traced themselves over the silver hairpin in your hand, a gift from the Madam.

“I will forget all about you once I leave this home. The memories, your voices and your scent. What a blessing it ends up being to be born blind, as I have no faces which I will have to wipe from my memories.” Your words stung your siblings in the guts. One of them stepped forward, your brother, ready to strike you down. But madam Kiyoko quickly extended her hand to shield your body from the abuse.

“Do not dare touch the Lady. She is an engaged woman now and therefore no longer under the rule of this household. Striking her would mean raising your hands against the Hoshina clan and I highly suggest that you do not make yourself an enemy of them.”

“She won't survive a week outside these gates. Compared to the people outside, our treatment was merciful. In this day and age there is no space for those who cannot protect themselves, tsk.” Your brother gave you one last glare before he and your sister left your room.

“This family can no longer harm you, child. So look at your future and smile, don't listen to his nonsense.” The warm hands of the woman embrace you in a comforting hug. If only you could take her with you and start your new life together..it was a hopeless wish but one you hung onto regardless

x

Nobody came to send you off besides Lady Kiyoko. With your bag packed and your heart set to leave, you approached the front gate. You refused to look back as you walked into your new life, each step feeling foreign and intimidating.

You were raised in a traditional household. From the building to the rules it reminded you of the old times. Therefore standing in front of the public transport with no navigation or sense of familiarity deeply frightened you. You could feel them all watching, the people on the train. Surely they were judging your lack of vision and pitying your weak form.

It took you quite some time to arrive at the destination, the lack of any known directions making the journey much more treacherous. But after two hours, you finally arrived at the Houshina estate. If it had been for the old couple you met at your station who guided you all the way here you would have been lost for sure.

“That is just the path we wanted to take!”

They said and took you by the hand. It felt strange, putting your trust into two unknown strangers. For a good minute you believed that they were leading you to a nearby cliff, for whatever reason. But your doubt slowly vanished as they began to talk about their day and all the errands which they had to run.

You took a deep breath and fixed your Kimono before knocking at the gate. There was no guarantee that anybody was going to hear you but this was the only way you knew how to make yourself known.

After around five minutes and almost giving up hope, you heard a shift in motion. The gate opened and before you stood a stranger. They didn't say anything and simply looked you up and down you assumed. Then they spoke up.

“Oh, it's you.”

What an interesting dialect..

Unsure of who was standing before you, you went down on your knees to show your respects.

“My name is L/n Y/n and I am the betrothed of Hoshina Soshiro. It is my utmost pleasure to meet you.”

“There is no need to be so formal, please. And get up, ya Kimono is getting all dirty.” A pair of strong hands suddenly placed themselves on your shoulders and helped you find your way back up.

A scent so sweet was attached to the stranger, one that had a strange note to it. Yet you stayed focused and continued the conversation.

“Did you come here all by yourself??” The stranger sounded almost appalled.

“Yes..is there a problem with that?”

“Your family reassured us that they were going to send someone with you, since you are..”

His eyes locked with yours. Light gray orbs sat in your sockets, robbed of all light. Yet there was a glimmer inside them, one that shone brighter than the sun itself.

“Excuse me for asking, but who am I speaking to?”

“I am just a housekeeper. Anyway, let's get ya inside and perhaps, you must have a long journey behind you.”

“Thank you very much.” The housekeeper took your hands in his, a soft warmth spreading over your entire body. His bold action startled you slightly but you did not allow your discomfort to display on your face.

“Not having an official wedding must be quite frustrating I believe?”

Is this..smalltalk?

“I never clung to the desire of partaking in such festivity. I was told from a very young age that I wasn't deserving of a wedding, let alone marriage. My father eventually giving me away to a family with no future was to be expected.”

“A family with no future?”

“Oh my, I didn't mean it like that! I apologize for insulting your masters..”

“No offense taken. I understand what ya were trying to say.” The soft sliding of wooden doors indicated to you that you were now entering the building. Almost immediately you were greeted by the sweet scent of lavender and tangerines, two odors that completed one another perfectly.

The housekeeper continued to guide you through the building, holding on to your hand so tight you feared he was going to melt into you. Yet despite his grip being so fierce, his touch was gentle and almost protective. You were not used to such kindness, therefore you found it difficult to express your gratitude once he let go when you arrived in the space which you believed was your room.

“When will the rest of your belongings arrive?” The housekeeper asked while taking the bag from your hands. Your silence said all he needed to know.

“If you need anything, don't hesitate to–”

“Young Master? A letter has arrived from the Anti-Kaiju Defense Force, requesting your presence. Oh and has the young woman arrived already? We heard the gates–”

..Master?

Your head turned to meet the voice at the door. A young woman, you assumed, stood at the entrance of your room, her words and turn indicating that she was talking to the housekeeper.

“Oh, she is already here?? Why wasn't your father notified!” The woman scolded.

“Thank you Ayame, I will see to the letter shortly. And I wanted some alone time with her first, I'm sure my father will understand."

All the woman did was sigh, as if she was too used to his behavior and excused herself from the room.

It didn't even take you five seconds to realize what was going on. Your face froze up upon realizing, a soft gasp leaving from your lips.

“I..apologize for deceiving you.” Soshiro sighed. “I didn't know how to properly introduce myself when I saw you back then and just went with the moment.”

Embarrassed? Shame? Anxiety? You did not know what to feel first. The words you spoke only minutes ago suddenly came back to hit you like whiplash. You just told your soon to be husband that you had no faith in his family, to his face, the gods were probably laughing at you right now. Not just them, but also your siblings and parents.

Their voices rang through your ears, eating at your consciousness. Not even a day had passed and you already managed to screw up, what a twisted joke this was.

“Ya ain't upset with me, right?”

All thoughts suddenly started to disappear into thin air as his fingers once again wrapped themselves around your hands. Only now did you realize how soft they were, like sunflower petals. And the distant scent of vanilla that lingered on his skin, it was soothing in a way you could not describe.

In an instant you found yourself calming down and remembered that you were no longer in that household. Five minutes have been spent in this foreign place so far, yet it felt much more comforting than your old home. Why was that?

“Saying that your family has no future when I am the one who lacks the ability to function properly..I am so very sorry..”

“Don't tell me yer apologizing for being blind?” Soshiro placed one of his hands on your head, gently caressing your hair with his fingers.

“I don't know much about ya or what you went through before. All I was told is that your family did not think highly of ya and therefore signed you away to the next available family. But just by looking at ya I can tell that you are much more valuable than ya think.” And with that said, Soshiro gave your head a light squeeze.

These gentle touches were so new to you. Being embraced in such a loving way and taken by the hand as if you were too important to lose– and not to mention by a man you just met..it all felt quite unreal.

Soshiro suddenly started to move away from you, the lack of his warmth mildly bothering your conscience, but he had somewhere important to be.

“We shall converse more once I return from my appointment, most likely together with my father. The others will want to meet you so prepare yourself for that. If they barge into your room feel free to send them away”

“Send them away? I could never do that” Hosanna laughed although you didn't say anything funny?

“Im looking forward to future interactions.”

“I..me too.”

To have something to look forward to..did you ever have that in your life? The feelings in your heart were difficult to describe. Was it truly possible for you to find happiness in a place full of strangers and foreign emotions? To seek comfort in the arms of a man you barely even knew? As Soshiro walked out of your room, you quickly searched for the hair pin that Madam Kiyoko had gifted to you. Your fingers embraced it tight, trying to recreate the warmth which you felt moments ago.

Something deep down in your heart wanted to trust his words and believe that you too could experience true happiness in this lifetime. Therefore you desperately held onto this vision of love, in hopes that one day your future would be painted in its beautiful colors.

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy,moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious,gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango ever bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride.

the proposal — kaiju no. 8, hoshina soshiro x f!reader, established fwb to fake engagement to lovers, smut, oral (m!receiving), piv sex, creampies, fingering, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism/sex act in a public place, praise, mentions of oral (f!receiving), reader is referred to as 'girl', 'pretty girl', and 'honey', reader is unable/chooses not to have kids, written for the romcom collab run by @bloompompom ! 11.6k words

a/n: i really should've rewatched the movie before writing this but i got carried away! also my first time really writing in soshiro's pov which was an interesting challenge. would i do some things differently? yeah. am i going to share this anyway and apply those things next time? yeah. anyway i hope you enjoy!

Hoshina Soshiro wakes up with a handful of something soft.

It only takes a moment before he realizes what's going on. You've been sleeping over more and more often lately, and your previous activities must've worn you both out more than expected.

It makes sense. Soshiro was a little stressed, and you've always been willing to help him relieve it.

He squeezes your tit and snickers quietly when you grumble at him. You're sleep-warm and utterly relaxed, your body melting back into the solid length of him as you resettle in his bed. It's barely dawn, the room brightening little by little, the light catching on the loose strands of your hair and the sweep of your eyelashes as you scrunch your nose at his teasing. He pinches your nipple lightly.

"Hoshina-kun… I'll dropkick you if you're trying to go again right now."

"You're the one who keeps squirmin'," he points out. You push your hips back against him again in retaliation and his cock twitches with interest. "You sure ya don't want another round? One for the road?"

He watches you consider it, your eyes blinking open and squinting at the clock on his nightstand. He rolls your nipple between his fingers and smirks when your lashes flutter at the feeling, only to bite back a groan when you arch into his touch. Fuck, you're so sexy.

"You just want me reporting to Narumi with your cum staining my panties," you mutter. Oh, now there's an idea. He knows you can feel how hard he's gotten, pressed up tight against your ass. Soshiro won't deny that you're right.

You're naked besides the shirt you grabbed from his closet last night, though the soft material has rucked up around the curve of your waist. He's similarly barely dressed, just the thin barrier of his briefs keeping him from pressing against you fully skin to skin. You're so soft and pliant in his arms, fitting perfectly in the crescent moon shape of his body as his little spoon.

"You'd like that," he murmurs, relishing the little shiver that goes up your spine. In a moment of weakness, you had confessed once that you really liked his morning voice (and his seriously-gonna-kick-this-kaiju's-ass voice, and his follow-my-orders voice, and — but then he'd turned you around and fucked you against the counter muttering praises in your ear as you came all over his cock). "Don'tcha think it'd be fun? He's already gonna know you spent the night."

As evidenced by the many hickies Soshiro's left all over your neck. It might be a little childish, this possessiveness — especially when you're not even his, not really — but Soshiro likes leaving little marks wherever he can, some sort of proof that you were together and that you chose to fall into bed with him.

And you keep choosing him, even as Captain Narumi Gen of the First Division actively pursues you. You tell Soshiro all the time that rank doesn't mean much to you, and it's not like you're sleeping with people for advancing or clout — but you're a platoon leader in the First Division and that means you spend way more time with Gen than with him. It wouldn't surprise Soshiro if one day you decided he wasn't worth the hassle of traveling down to the Tachikawa base on your days off, if you decided that Gen is actually kinda hot and could get in your pants for once.

That'd be the end of your friends-with-benefits relationship. The two of you agreed from the beginning that it'd be exclusive — neither of you wanted to worry about protection, and Soshiro didn't want to bother with the hassle of other partners anyway. It was easiest with you and only you.

"Hey," you mutter, turning in his arms to face him and leaning up to bite fondly at his chin. "You're thinking too much."

He knows he is. The message he received yesterday from the Hoshina clan sits heavy in the back of his mind, though he can kind of ignore it as you suck bruises into his neck.

Soshiro groans low in his throat and leans down to kiss you as you sneak your hand into his briefs. He feels hot and shivery, arousal pooling deep in his gut as all the blood in his body flows away from his brain. You give his cock a few slow pumps, smearing the precum gathering at the tip to help the glide of your hand along his length, squeezing and twisting your wrist just right as he shudders and grabs at your ass. You kiss him hard, seemingly determined to erase his train of thought, dragging your tongue along his teeth and sucking on his lip as you throw your leg over his hip. "Fuckin' hell —"

"You're so hard," you mutter, rolling the two of you over so that Soshiro's flat on his back with your legs on either side of his hips. His hands go immediately to grip your thighs, eyes widening at the wet smear of arousal you leave along his lower abs as you drag his briefs halfway down his legs. He kicks them the rest of the way off as you press down on one of the bruises you left on his shoulder. "Fuck, Hoshina, you're so — you look so — I'm gonna — wanna ride you, 'kay?"

As if he'd say no. As if he'd ever protest anything you want to do when you're grinding the soft folds of your pussy along his cock, practically dripping on it as you adjust the angle and squeeze the base of him in your haste to sit on it.

Soshiro doesn't cum right away, though it's a close call. The wet, sticky heat of you enveloping his bare cock is a feeling he'll never get tired of. It's heaven and hell all wrapped up in you, in being with you, being inside you. You moan as he enters you, a low, rough sound almost punched unwillingly out of your chest.

"Hold on to me," he grunts, offering his hands for leverage. You take the offer gratefully, squeezing his fingers as you bottom out and pant. "Fuck, how're you still so tight?"

"Why're you still so big?" you huff, wiggling your hips a little to adjust to the stretch. Soshiro tenses, groaning as your walls bear down on him. He's not going to cum. He won't. He can last a bit longer. "I thought we went like, three rounds last night," you mutter, "you should be wrung out by now."

Soshiro laughs. "And I thought I fucked ya last night," he says. "Thought I fucked ya good and proper. But you're just too good for me, huh? Too good at bein' so fuckin' perfect."

He punctuates his statement with a sharp thrust, relishing the startled whine you let out and laughing a little more when you shoot him a halfhearted glare. "Quit it," you demand, "let me do this."

You raise your hips and drop down on him carefully, working up into a pace that makes your tits bounce. Soshiro wants to see — wants you naked — and thankfully you don't stop him as he reaches up to pull your borrowed shirt off. The change in angle makes your stuttered moans veer into whines, mixing with the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the morning air. "You're doin' so well," Soshiro groans, hands coming up to hold whatever he can. You grab his shoulders for leverage, back arching as he leans forward to suck one nipple into his mouth.

"Hah — ahh, Hoshina —"

"What'd I tell ya to call me?" Soshiro grunts, switching to your other nipple with a lewd pop. He swirls his tongue around the pert bud and reaches down to rub quick circles around your neglected clit. "C'mon, pretty girl, what'd I say?"

You gush around his fingers, coating his cock in a ring of white as you bounce on it desperately. Soshiro can tell you're getting close — your whines get cut off, your walls get tighter, you dig your nails into his shoulders — and it only makes the coil threatening to snap in his gut tighten harder.

It's too early for this. You're worn out from last night, and pleasure is making your muscles strain. Soshiro can feel your thighs trembling with the effort of riding him. He leans back on one hand to help, timing his thrusts as you drop back down, hitting that spot deep inside you, keeping his other hand at your clit as you sob. The friction is driving him insane — you feel so good. He can usually keep his mouth shut during sex, only letting out rough groans and stuttered moans, but knowing you're affected by his raspy morning voice has him dropping his filter with every thrust.

"Feels so fuckin' good, pretty, you look so perfect on my cock," he grunts. You tilt your head towards the ceiling as you pant, granting him access to suck more bruises into your neck to bloom along with the ones from last night. "You're such a good girl — such a good fucking girl —"

Oh, he's gonna cum soon. You're squeezing him so tight, your wet walls squelching obscenely with every thrust.

And then you say it —

"F-fuck, Hoshina — I'm gonna — Soshiro I'm gonna cum —"

Ah, fuck.

"Nghh," Soshiro feels it snap, feels his thrusts get sloppy as he cums, thick ropes of white painting your insides as you whine and cry and cum around him, squeezing him tight, feels the sharp zip of pleasure racing through his body as all his muscles release.

You collapse on top of him and he catches you, breathing hard, sweat beading his temple and dripping into your hair. His arm is loose around your waist and he's trembling holding the two of you up with his hand planted flat on the mattress. "Can't believe you still came so much," you mumble into the side of his neck, "what the hell, Soshiro?"

"It's a going away present," he mutters back, laughing fondly when you pinch his side. "Make sure ya keep it in while you're reportin' to your Captain."

There's only the sound of harsh breathing for a moment as the two of you recalibrate and return back to your bodies.

"I'll need my panties," you say, lifting your head and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Do you know where you tossed them last night?"

Soshiro traces a pattern idly along your bare back, following a few of your scars and smoothing along the sweaty skin. "You don't wanna shower first?"

You shoot him a look and he laughs. "You'll spill out if we do — unless you're planning on going again."

Soshiro hums and leans forward to kiss you, languid and easy. You kiss him back, as naturally as breathing, and maybe there's some post nut clarity involved but the idea he's been floating in the back of his mind seems a little more like a good plan the longer he kisses you.

"What d'ya think about marryin' me?" he asks.

"Is this why you called last night sounding like that?" you ask. Soshiro tilts his head and you copy him, pinning him in place with your pretty eyes. "I came over thinking you needed to talk, but you… distracted me."

Soshiro snorts. You still sound breathless, hazy and floating off the high of your orgasm. "I got a message from my family."

"The entire Hoshina clan?"

"Yeah," he says, shifting you more comfortably in his lap. He's getting soft, but you make no effort to move from off of him. "My dad was askin' me to come back."

"To do what? You're the Vice Captain of the Third Division — surely they've stopped hounding you about quitting the Defense Force to be a teacher." You say it so easily, as if they'd be stupid to bother trying. "You're literally better than Narumi's dumb ass against mini kaiju. Your family should be proud."

"They said something 'bout my future prospects," Soshiro admits. He has no idea why you have so much faith in him, but he appreciates it. "So it sounds like I'm bein' set up with omiai. I was thinkin' it'd be nice ta walk in with a fiancée so I could avoid that whole mess."

You hum thoughtfully, but it's not an answer. Soshiro helps you get off his lap, following you into the bathroom and helping to wipe you down with a wet towel as his cum dribbles out of you. Your panties are located and you slide them on, sighing. "I wish the train ride back was shorter, but there's no way I can sit that long with your cum in me. Sorry, Hoshina-kun."

"You're gonna kill me someday," Soshiro says frankly. He didn't actually expect you to try. You snicker and flick his forehead affectionately.

"You're the one who thought this was a good idea," you point out. "For someone who isn't interested in having kids, you sure love cumming inside."

Soshiro raises an eyebrow. "Pot. Kettle."

You laugh. "Fair point," you say. "Anyway, you just need me to pretend as your fiancée, right? I'm down. Finding another fuck buddy would be a pain at this point, and you piss off Narumi the most, so it works for me. Will I get to tour the famous Hoshina training compound?"

"Yeah, 'course," Soshiro says. There's a funny feeling sitting in his chest, but he doesn't have time to think about it as you give him a sweet kiss and loop your arms around his waist. "It'll just be for a lil while. Just 'til my family gets off my back."

You shrug. "Do you want me to record Narumi's reaction when he finds out your dick game was so good I agreed to marry you?"

Soshiro laughs. You feel good pressed against him like this, hugging him in just your panties. You usually save your physical affection for behind closed doors, so Soshiro's gotten used to soaking up as much as he can before you inevitably leave.

"Go shower," you say after a moment of aimless kisses. "I can make your coffee."

"You're the best," he mumbles into your hair. You tilt your head up to accept another careful kiss to your temple, eyelashes fluttering closed in appreciation. "I'll be quick."

"That's what you said last night, but now I'm all sore," you laugh, pushing him towards the shower. Soshiro obeys, scrubbing up and getting ready for the day. You grab your toothbrush from its spot next to his on the counter to brush your teeth, and then you wash your face with the cleanser he picked up for you the other day. You shoot him a wink through the mirror when you catch him checking out your ass, and then you skip out of the bathroom and Soshiro listens through the open door as you hum absently in his quarters. Captains, Vice Captains, and platoon leaders get the most space, so while his apartment isn't as large or as fancy as Captain Ashiro's, it's still pretty sizable. There's enough space for a small kitchenette, at least, and soon the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts in to cut through the steam of his shower.

Soshiro pulls on his uniform, toweling halfheartedly at his hair as he finds you on his couch. You're nursing a mug with the JAKDF design flaking off — the one you always use, which is why he hasn't replaced it yet — and there's another fresh mug on the table. Soshiro sits beside you and takes a sip.

"Perfect," he says, "thanks, sweetheart."

You've dressed back in your own uniform, rumpled and sleep worn. "That'll cost three kisses," you say, smiling into your mug. Soshiro hums, arching a brow.

"The cost's gone up? What's up with that?"

You shrug demurely. "Inflation. Sorry, but rules are rules."

Soshiro is careful to grasp your mug as he leans over to kiss you, bypassing your softly puckered lips and going for your nose and cheek and forehead instead. Your lashes flutter as you open your eyes to glare at him playfully. He's hovering close enough that he can feel your breaths on his skin. "The cost for not paying up properly is five kisses."

"Ah, well, I guess I'd better pay up," he murmurs, setting your mug aside and kissing the silly smile off your lips. You giggle into the kisses, delighted and giddy, a version of you that Soshiro only sees behind closed doors.

"Your hair's still wet," you say, pulling back with a wrinkle to your nose. A few stray droplets of water slide down your cheek. Soshiro watches, mesmerized, as your tongue darts out to catch it. "C'mon, I'll help you."

You sit up and take the towel from around his neck, fluffing up his hair as he tilts his head obligingly towards you. It's nearly time for you to catch the train back, but you take your time, pressing the water out of his hair carefully.

It's a little too sweet, a little too comfortable and domestic. At the beginning of your friends-with-benefits arrangement, you never stayed the night, and you had laughed when he offered, preferring quick fucks around the base in the limited time you had together. That was about a year ago, and now you show up in the evenings, claiming his pillows and demanding he update you on the latest story he's been reading before getting down to business. Any more of this and he'll start getting ideas.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think ya liked me."

Soshiro peeks up at you from beneath his bangs, a lopsided smirk on his lips, ready to fall back into the easy pattern of teasing and bantering with you. Just like clockwork, he catches you rolling your eyes. "I wouldn't let you or your dick anywhere near me if I didn't like you at least a little bit, Hoshina-kun."

"And 'cause I piss off your Captain," Soshiro says. You nod with just a fraction of hesitation, but that's probably because you're distracted by the towel in his hair.

"Narumi gets so grumpy," you laugh. "You'd think he's never been rejected by girls before."

"He's never been rejected by someone as pretty as you," Soshiro says absently, reaching up for the towel. His hand brushes the back of yours and you drop it abruptly, covering up the moment with a scoff as you turn quickly to grab your mug. "Want me to walk ya to your train?"

"I'm a big girl," you roll your eyes. "I'll be fine." Soshiro watches as you drain the rest of your coffee and rise to bring the mug to the sink. You pad back and lean over the back of the couch to give him a light kiss on his forehead, and then you're sliding your boots on at the genkan and waving with one hand on the door. "See you next time, fake fiancé."

His apartment is quieter, emptier without you, so Soshiro finishes up his own coffee and heads out to face the day. His muscles are pleasantly sore, relaxed in the way he always is after spending time with you, and now that he has a plan for dealing with his meddling family, it's easier to cheerfully put his new rookies through a rough training session.

You send him a message later in the day, a short video clip of you in Captain Narumi's office. Soshiro settles in his desk chair as he watches, mindful of Okonogi searching for some records in another corner of the workspace. The video clip starts off with the front facing camera, where you grin and throw up a peace sign, before it flips to show the First Division Captain hunkered down in a mess of boxes and a rumpled futon, fingers tapping rapidly at buttons as he stares at the television screen with bloodshot eyes.

"Reporting, Captain Narumi," your voice sounds cheerful and Soshiro can see Gen's head twitch towards the sound.

"I'm almost done beating this boss," Gen says hurriedly.

You hum, but it's clear you don't particularly care. "Then I guess I can tell you later about how I'm engaged to Vice Captain Hoshina."

"Hah?!" Gen's controller flies into his blanket as he scrambles up, a pathetic noise coming from the television as a Game Over flashes across the screen. "What did you just — are you recording this?"

"I promised I'd show my future husband," you say sweetly, and damn if the phrase doesn't stir something strange in Soshiro's chest. "Do you have any congratulatory words for us?"

Soshiro brings his phone closer to his face, snickering as you zoom in on Gen's rapidly contorting expressions. The Captain of the First Division seems to refocus, gaze zeroing in on your neck. "You're pulling a prank on me," Gen says. "You look like you got attacked. You two aren't even dating. What about giving me a chance?!"

The video shakes as you shrug. "What can I say? We've been together for a year now, you know. Hoshina-kun's the only one I trust to treat me right. Anyway, I've gotta tell everyone else, thanks, Captain."

The video flips to show your face again, and you give a little wave and a smile to the camera. "See you soon, love!"

It cuts off with a strangled noise from Gen's direction and the bright peal of your laughter in response. Soshiro can't help laughing too, clutching at his side as he scrolls through the rest of your messages to see screenshots of the First Division Captain's face looking like he belongs in several viral memes. And if Soshiro's ears feel a little warm at your new term of endearment for him, well, that's just for him to know.

Okonogi pops up with a stack of files and sets them on the table. "What was that, Vice Captain?"

Soshiro hums, tapping out a response to you. Before he can send it, you send a blurry photo that makes him sit up straight, eyes wide. It's clearly your panties shucked down your thighs, taken from an awkward angle, but even with the shadowy lighting he can see the way your fingers are glistening with creamy white liquid stretching down to your pussy.

Is that… is that his cum from earlier this morning?

You send him a thumbs up emoji. Mission success, you type, as if you aren't giving him a heart attack from several kilometers away.

Okonogi clears her throat as Soshiro locks his phone and rubs at his face. "Sir?"

"Ah, my fiancée just sent me a funny video."

The news spreads across the two divisions rapidly, much to Gen's loudly voiced annoyance and Soshiro's amusement. It isn't exactly a secret that you have an exceedingly friendly relationship with the Third Division's Vice Captain, but the details of your engagement are enough to fuel the communal bathhouse rumor mills for a solid few weeks. Love in the Defense Force isn't rare by any means, but most of the higher ranked members are more focused on their fighting abilities than romance, so it's big news for the Defense Force's strongest miniature kaiju combatant to be involved in something like an engagement.

Time moves differently in the Defense Force — there are daily patrols, training sessions, sporadic days off — but everything gets put on hold when a kaiju emerges in the area. Then it's destruction minimization, civilian rescues, kaiju neutralization and the aftermath of reports and reconstruction and kaiju deconstruction. The First Division gets a few more than the Third's, just by virtue of being based next to the ocean, and it feels like ages and no time at all before Soshiro sees you again.

"What's this?" you ask, shutting his office door behind you with a soft click. "Are you behind that mountain of paperwork somewhere, Hoshina-kun?"

"M'here," he grumbles, reaching up to stretch out the stiffness in his back. Nobody ever talks about how much paperwork comes with going up the ranks. "Thanks for comin' by."

You snicker as he spins to face you, letting him tug you closer by the hem of your uniform jacket. "Did you call me over to rescue you? Sorry, sir, but I have my own paperwork to die under."

Soshiro snorts and tugs you even closer, until your knees bump his. "I needed to give ya somethin'."

He digs around in his jacket pocket for a moment before producing a small box. Your eyes widen, but you don't say anything as he takes your hand and slides the ring into place. It's a simple band, safe to wear beneath combat gloves, but the gem inset is a clear, brilliant amethyst. "Unconventional color," you remark, tilting your hand in the light.

This is somehow more embarrassing than he thought it'd be, but thankfully you don't seem to notice the flush creeping up his neck. "You said once that ya liked my hair color in the light. Since it's just a favor, I figured you'd be alright with somethin' a lil different."

You meet his eyes and grin. "Oh? Is this where you promise me a real ring when we get engaged for real?"

Soshiro's heart kicks in his chest as he coughs his surprise. You laugh, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, mussing up his bangs. He blinks as you comb the strands back into place. "I dunno, you'd hafta move to Tachikawa if we got married for real."

If you're not joking — if you really do feel something else, something more —

You tilt your head, your eyes clear and sparkling as the setting sun hits your face just right. The angle of light swallows your pupils, throws your gaze into something unreadable for just a moment. "You don't think you could unseat Hasegawa-san as Vice Captain? He should probably retire soon, you know. He looks way too stressed."

"Your Captain would never take me," Soshiro scoffs. "Besides, I promised I'd always clear a path for Captain Ashiro."

You're quiet for a moment. Soshiro can feel his heartbeat in his throat. "I guess I could move here," you concede, humming. Your fingers still on his bangs. "The company's not too bad."

"Not too bad, huh?" Soshiro raises an eyebrow, skims his fingers along your waist. The air feels charged with something unspoken, something different — but he knows how to drag it back to normalcy. "I can't say much 'bout the company, but what about this desk?"

Mischief sparks in your eyes and he answers your grin with his own. That's more like it. "The last time we fucked on this desk, Okonogi-chan complained that all your paperwork was messed up afterwards," you point out. "I have a better idea."

Soshiro's eyes widen and a bolt of lust zips down to his cock as you sink to your knees, settling between his thighs with a hum. You shuffle and turn a little, positioning yourself between his chair and his desk. "What're ya doin'?"

"You still need to finish your paperwork, right? How many reports do you think you'll get through before I can make you cum down my throat?" Your eyes flash in the light and he shudders, hips jumping into your touch.

"Ya lock the door?" Soshiro huffs, shifting in his seat as you run your hands along his thighs. Fuck, his pants are getting tight. You shrug noncommittally and drag your finger along the hard bulge of his cock. "I didn't call ya over for this, y'know."

"I know," you unzip his pants and smile as he lifts his hips enough for you to yank the fabric down. His cock springs free and you lick your lips. Soshiro groans. The way you're looking at him — eyes bright, lips wet and shiny, eyelashes fluttering as if you're shy when you reach out to lick the beads of precum on the tip of his cock — should be fucking illegal. "You'd better get to work, Vice Captain."

Oh, fuck you. Soshiro knows you know exactly how to rile him up, and using his title in that tone of yours is one guaranteed way to get him that much closer to cumming. You blink up at him expectantly. "You can't be serious."

You stroke his shaft with your left hand, the cool metal of your new ring sending electricity up his spine. It warms to body heat quickly, but the added texture is enough to keep all of his senses trained on your touch. He grabs a pen as you twist your wrist on the upstroke and he nearly drops the damn thing. "You'd better get them done correctly, Soshiro."

"I hate you," Soshiro chokes out a grunt as you suddenly engulf him in your mouth. His balls tighten and he snaps his pen in half, heat and lust and lightning gathering in a maelstrom below his gut. "Fuck, you feel so good."

You swirl your tongue around the tip as you suck, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing him down without giving him any time to brace himself. The wet, warm heat of you is heaven around his cock, the tight suction of your lips sending him spiraling with every stroke. It's hot in the office — sweat beads at his hairline as you settle into a steady rhythm, the wet, sloppy sounds of you drooling all over him echoing in the quiet room. "Yeah, honey, just like that."

Your eyes widen at the new pet name but your rhythm doesn't falter — if anything, you start moving faster, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat in a way that's driving him insane. Soshiro can't even keep his eyes focused on the paper in front of him, mesmerized by the bob of your head and the gleam of your eyes beneath his desk. He cups your cheek with his free hand, something light fluttering in his chest when you lean into his touch, even as you proceed to suck his cock like your life depends on it.

Tension and heat coils in his gut. Holy fucking hell. You have one hand braced on his tense thigh, but your other hand goes to cup his balls, smearing your drooling saliva on them as he chokes at the feeling. It's overwhelming — you are overwhelming — and he tries not to hold your head in place while he fucks your mouth but your moans are so pretty and you look so hot with your mouth stuffed and —

The click of the door opening is the only warning he gets, but luckily years of honed reflexes saves the two of you as he rolls his seat forward, forcing you further beneath the desk and his cock further down your throat.

"Hah — shit!" Soshiro gasps as you dig your nails into his thigh. He throbs in your mouth. "Ah, fuckin' — sorry, Okonogi-chan, I just hit my knee on the table."

The Third Division's Operations Manager gives him a funny look, but thankfully she stays near the door. "I just came by to ask if your reports are done, sir!"

Your throat is convulsing around his cock and it's the worst thing he's ever felt in his life because if he cums right now, there's no way Okonogi will miss it. "N-not yet, sorry!"

"Well, let me know when you're done so I can add my files. Will you finish them before your fiancée gets here?" Okonogi glances around. "I thought she'd be here by now, actually."

"Nope, haven't seen her!" Soshiro's voice cracks. There's spilled ink staining one of the reports. You slowly pull off his cock, but the lightning rod of tension in his spine just coils harder. "I'll finish 'em soon!"

"Are you getting sick, Vice Captain? Please don't take this the wrong way, but you're sweating a lot and you're all… red," Okonogi says hesitantly.

"Aw, 'm fine, dear," Soshiro threads his fingers through your hair in warning when you make an aborted little sound. He coughs loudly. "I feel just peachy! In fact, I'm ready to zip through all these reports right now!"

You slowly sink down on his cock again, tongue tracing the vein as you go. Soshiro dares to shoot you a warning glare and nearly cums down your throat at the answering gleam in your eye. He's throbbing in your mouth and you don't even care. Fuck you're a menace.

"Well, if you say so," Okonogi sounds rightfully dubious, but she puts her hand back on the doorknob. "I'll check again later!"

The instant the door clicks shut after she leaves, Soshiro slumps into his seat, groaning low in his throat as you swallow him back down. It's dim beneath his desk, but he can clearly see tears gathering at the corners of your pretty eyes, and you moan as he carefully starts fucking your mouth. The tightly wound tension is incessant, a burn beneath his skin, a thrumming in his ears. You're gorgeous like this, choking on his cock and drooling, spit soaking the bottom of the seat as you blink those teary eyes up at him.

"Fuckin' hell, honey, you're gonna make me fuckin' cum," Soshiro groans. "Where d'ya want it? Down your throat? Are ya gonna swallow it all like a good fuckin' girl?"

You moan loudly at that and he huffs out a laugh, the tension so tight it feels like he's going to snap. It's the ring that does it — your hand disappears for a moment and when you bring it back into view, he catches the glint of the ring, glistening with your cum, because of course you're fucking soaked and of course you had to show him with his cock down your throat and —

Soshiro cums so hard he sees white.

There's nothing. There's sparks and light and heat blooming everywhere. Distantly he hears himself grunting a garbled version of your name, but his brain shuts down so hard he barely has the capacity to breathe as his orgasm crashes through him.

"Soshiro, Soshiro," you whisper, climbing onto his lap and pressing soft little kisses all over his neck and jaw and cheeks. Soshiro comes back to his senses slowly, panting hard as feeling returns to his fingers and legs. "Hey," you whisper, brushing his sweat soaked hair from his forehead. "Are you back?"

"You…" he breathes. His brain is still rebooting.

You giggle. "Me?"

Soshiro grips your waist to hold you steady as you hover over his cock. "Gimme a minute. I'm gonna make you squirt all over this fuckin' desk."

You laugh outright at that, dipping down to kiss him sweetly. He can taste himself on your tongue, but it doesn't bother him. "Okonogi-chan will kill you if we get the reports messy."

Soshiro runs his hands up your sides just to watch you shiver. He still feels hazy, floaty, breathless and loose. "You're stayin' the night?"

"Is that an order, Vice Captain?" you ask teasingly. Your voice sounds scraped raw. He hums, reaching for your dirty fingers. You watch with blown pupils as he licks them clean, his tongue swirling around your engagement ring and his canine tooth catching on your fingertip.

"Let's go back to my rooms so nobody'll hear ya screamin' my name."

He ends up making you squirt in the shower, eating you out messy and lewd as steam fogs up the room. You goad him into fucking you from behind against the door afterward, pushing your ass back with every heavy thrust until you both cum hard enough to warrant a bath. He washes your back and hair in the shower first, building up a lather of shampoo and twisting the strands this way and that as you laugh and complain about the water temperature, but the both of you are relaxed and pliant in the warm water of the bath afterwards.

You cajole him into one of the smaller mess halls afterward, your hair wet and dripping down your borrowed shirt as he sets two trays piled with food in front of you. It's late — way past midnight — and you're soft and giggly and clingy as you drape your legs over his lap and eat. Soshiro drops extra bits on your plate whenever he thinks you aren't paying attention, but of course you're always paying attention to him.

"Quit it," you grumble, "I'm too full!"

Soshiro snickers as you scoop the rest of your food onto his plate. "Whoa, is this what I'll get as a married man? Your leftovers?"

You roll your eyes. "Shut up, you spoiled asshole. When we're married you know you'll be doing all the cooking."

Maybe it's the late hour, but the way you say it — like it's a fact. Like it's a truth, and not a lie to appease the Hoshina clan and keep them from meddling in his life. Soshiro wonders when he started hoping.

"That's true," he says lightly. "You're just as bad as Captain Ashiro with kitchen knives."

"Don't let your family find out, or they'll tell you to find a new wife," you joke. Soshiro snorts, but it's quiet in the empty mess hall. You prop your chin on your hand and watch him chase around the last grains of rice with his chopsticks. "Tell me about your family? Is there anything I should be prepared for?"

"Well, ya know I've got an older brother," Soshiro says. It feels a little strange, mentioning Soichiro after all these years of (literal) radio silence. "He'll be busy captaining the Sixth, so we shouldn't be runnin' into him at the house. My dad's still an instructor, and he'll probably wanna know 'bout your combat levels. My ma…"

"Uh oh," you murmur. Soshiro sighs and takes your hand.

"My ma's always wanted grandkids." He watches as your face goes blank. "Y'know I ain't the type. I've got my hands full with my lil' fledglings already."

"Well," you squeeze his hand and offer a tiny smile, "at least this is fake. Your mom will get her grandkids eventually, even though it won't be from me."

You're quiet and distant on the short walk back to his rooms, but maybe it's just the late hour. Soshiro doesn't know how to break the strange awkwardness that's settling between the two of you — but you seem lost in thought, kissing him goodnight absently and quickly burrowing your face into his neck as if you don't want him to look too closely at your expression.

It's weird. You seem back to normal in the morning light, making his coffee and hugging him from behind while he brushes his teeth, but there's a strange distance in your gaze and your smile drops unnaturally when you think he isn't paying attention. There isn't much Soshiro can do about it, though — you go back to the First Division and your texts are… typical. You agree to take some time off to visit the Hoshina family home together and Soshiro just about wears down the floor of his office with his pacing.

"Vice Captain, are you sure you don't need a break?" Okonogi asks. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but you seem agitated."

Soshiro flops back into his seat and stares at the ink stain he left behind the last time the two of you were in his office together. The ruined report was luckily one of his own, so he just printed another copy, but unfortunately he hasn't been able to scrub the ink out of the desk. "Nothing to worry 'bout, Okonogi dear."

"Are you worried about your family visit? I'm sure it'll be fine, sir — your fiancée is perfect for you," Okonogi says. She adjusts her glasses. "But if you're concerned, you should talk to her. She'd want to know."

Soshiro doesn't think you want to know what's really going through his head — you'd probably run away. Casual. Friends with benefits. You were the one who brought it up, after years of working together whenever your Divisions teamed up, after plenty of teasing and friendly competitions and sharing meals sitting slightly apart from the rest of your officers. You always caught his eye, but of course he'd never assume you were interested, not when you had all those other options (including Captain Narumi) — so it had been a welcome surprise when you confessed that you thought he was hot. That you thought about him at night. That maybe having a friends with benefits arrangement could be good for both of you to blow off steam without any mess.

Soshiro still remembers your first time together — the first and only time you slept together in the First Division. Your rooms were smaller than his, but he hadn't had much of a chance to explore, too busy learning how to elicit those sounds from your lips that haunted his dreams for months afterwards. It was awkward at first, with bumped noses and self conscious laughter, but you had forged ahead as if it would be your only chance and it was so good.

It's always been good with you — good and easy. This weird… distance? It's unsettling. Soshiro can tell something is up, but you message him normally and there's nothing for him to hang this niggling feeling on.

He meets you at the train station a few days later and you smile at him like he's made your day. "Should I be calling you Soshiro-kun for this trip?" you ask, offering a canned coffee from the vending machine. It's early, and of course he hadn't had time to make his own morning coffee, so the can is a welcome weight in his hand.

"Yeah, but don't do it too often or I'll drag ya into a hotel on our way down," Soshiro says, trying not to stare. He pops open the can and takes a sip, eyes dragging down your form as you laugh. It's rare to see you in something other than your Defense Force uniform, his borrowed clothes, or naked — and you've shown up to the train station in a cute skirt and blouse outfit, looking fresh and adorable and not at all like you take down kaiju on a regular basis. Something about the dissonance stirs up a surge of protectiveness in Soshiro, though you'd probably offer to kick his ass if he voices this thought aloud.

"We're meeting your parents, Soshiro-kun," you scold, "keep it in your pants."

But there's a teasing glint in your eye and Soshiro snorts, reaching out to snag your wrist, pulling you close so he can kiss the laugh out of your mouth. The strange unsettled feeling is nudged to the back of his mind as you kiss him back.

The shinkansen ride is a few hours long, but you've packed bentos and seem perfectly content to gaze out the window at the flashing scenery as he reads a book. You doze off a few times, settling into his side as naturally as breathing, and Soshiro keeps as still as possible so you can be comfortable leaning against him. You later confess that the bentos were made from bits and pieces you had begged from the officers on chef duty early this morning and Soshiro teases you about making your bentos in the future.

"You can barely even function without your coffee in the morning, Hoshina-kun, how're you gonna make us bentos?" You're so pretty when you're laughing like this — lighthearted and sweet with your sparkly eyes. Soshiro knows he's staring openly now, but you don't seem to mind, leaning into his space to steal the last bite of tamagoyaki while he's distracted.

"I'm a man of many talents," Soshiro declares, just to watch you snort into your royal milk tea can. "But 'course I'll just make 'em the night before."

"That's good planning," you nod sagely. "I knew I picked a good future husband."

The automated announcements overhead remind the two of you that your stop is coming up, and Soshiro gathers up the trash and your bags in preparation to offboard. Both of you packed light, used to moving quickly through cities on long deployments, and it's nothing for him to sling both bags over his shoulder. You follow him off the shinkansen and through the station, always close enough to touch but careful to maintain a little bit of distance in case someone sees.

It's lucky you do, because as soon as the two of you step out into the balmy southern air, someone calls out his name.

Soshiro feels his shoulders stiffen and you shoot him a mildly alarmed look. "Well, well, well, if it ain't my lil bro!"

What the hell.

"And ya really brought someone! Ma's gonna be over the moon!" Soichiro says brightly. Soshiro watches with dread as his older brother approaches and promptly offers his hand for you to shake. You take it, amusement in the edges of your polite smile. "I'm Hoshina Soichiro, this guy's older brother and Captain of the Sixth Division."

You introduce yourself, shooting Soshiro a wry glance as you add, "and I know who you are, sir. My captain speaks highly of you."

"Oho! You're a member of the Defense Force? Are ya with the Third?" Soichiro asks. If you've noticed that Soichiro and Soshiro haven't actually spoken to each other yet, you don't mention it.

"No, sir. I'm with the First Division," you reply. "Thank you for coming to meet us at the station. We weren't expecting anyone."

"Aw, well, I wanted ta catch up with my lil bro," Soichiro says. Soshiro's mouth twists a little at that, but he faces his older brother and offers him a tiny smile. It makes his face hurt. "It's been a long time since you've been home."

"Things are busy in the Third and I'm further away than you are," Soshiro says. Thankfully his voice stays steady. You step a little closer to him, the back of your hand brushing the back of his, and he takes a deep, fortifying breath. "Is everythin' good at home?"

"Things are peachy," Soichiro says, waving them along as he begins to walk. "Dad's just finished up teachin' a new batch of hopefuls for the Force, and ma's been settin' me up with omiai every time I come home. Is that what you're here for, lil bro?"

"They just told me ta come by," Soshiro admits. "But I've got some news for 'em, anyway."

Soichiro glances back at the two of you walking so closely together and hums. "Yeah, I figured. When ma said you'd be bringin' a guest, I knew I had ta come see it for myself first. It ain't right that ya got such a cute girlfriend, Soshiro."

Soshiro can feel his ears burning, but you just shoot him a grin and a raised eyebrow. Well, if you're fishing for compliments… "She is a cutie pie," he says lightly. "But she's smart, too, and funny as hell. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me."

He watches you blush prettily and avoid his gaze for the rest of the ride towards the Hoshina compound. Years and years of kaiju fighting and developing the Hoshina clan techniques means the family is pretty well off — Soshiro doesn't flaunt the family's wealth, determined as he is to prove his own worth — but it can't be denied that he grew up well taken care of and pampered in spite of the intense training he put himself through growing up.

The grounds sprawl in a valley nestled between densely forested hills. The buildings are traditional and the yards are all swept clean, tastefully interspersed with rock gardens and ponds full of glimmering koi fish. The sharp clack of practice swords echo in the balmy air as a clan member leads students through exercises, though Soshiro doesn't spot anyone out of the ordinary as Soichiro leads them into the main house.

He pauses before the sliding door that leads to where his parents will be waiting. This is fake — the two of you just need to get through this weekend, and then you can go back to your divisions and pretend none of this happened. His family won't expect any updates for a long time, and by then Soshiro can figure out if you… if you'd be willing to marry him for real. Maybe, by then, he'll finally be good enough for you. So why is his heart pounding so loudly in his chest?

You stop as well, looking wide eyed at him as you shift your elegantly wrapped gift in your trembling hands. "Soshiro?"

"I promise they won't bite," he murmurs, ducking close as Soichiro reaches for the door. He doesn't know if his older brother can hear, but it doesn't really matter as long as you feel better about this meeting. "I'm the one choosin' you, remember."

You blink up at him, close enough for a kiss, your eyes searching his for something before you take a deep breath and nod. "Right. You're the only biter in the family."

He snorts before he can stop himself, feeling hot around the neck and ears as he straightens up. Jumping into the middle of a daikaiju battle would probably be easier than this — than facing his parents with news of his engagement and listening to them tell him to quit the Defense Force. His older brother lets out a quiet cough before he slides the door open. The three of you enter the lion's den.

Soshiro has nothing to worry about. Hours later finds the two of you settling into the room you'll be using during your stay, futon laid out as you sit beside it, your legs tucked to the side with your skirt splayed out. The sliding door leading to the walkway is open, exposing the two of you to a small side yard featuring a koi fish pond, but otherwise the guest room is out of the way of the main buildings. Soshiro won't be staying in the same room as you, even if his parents did approve of the engagement, but there's still some time before lights out and he wants to be with you. You let out a deep sigh and reach for his hand.

"That went well?" you ask carefully. Soshiro squeezes your hand. Watching you interact with his parents, who he loves in spite of the sense of duty that permeates everything they do, and with his older brother, who he knows is so much better than him at everything — seeing you cheerfully and earnestly bringing up Soshiro's own good qualities whenever you could did a lot to ease an unknown soreness in his heart.

"You were amazin'," he says honestly. You blush.

"I just wanted them to know how amazing you are," you say. "You're the coolest Vice Captain in the Defense Force, you know?"

"Just a cool Vice Captain?" Soshiro asks, glancing over at you. He smiles a little to himself as you roll your eyes.

"Did you also want me to tell them you're an incredible lover?"

Soshiro laughs out loud at that, releasing your hand so that he can pull you into his lap. You settle there easily, grinning, looping your arms around his neck as he leans up to kiss you. "We can keep that to ourselves," he says. His heart feels light. "I didn't realize you were payin' that much attention to me. Stroke a guy's ego like that and he might propose for real."

A wall comes up in the depths of your eyes and he falters as he leans in to kiss you, but you close the distance before he can ask what's wrong. You taste sweet, like the daifuku mochi you shared with his ma earlier, and you kiss him like you never want to stop. Soshiro groans into your mouth as you lick into his, your tongue sliding slick against his teeth. You don't pull away as you kiss, merely tugging his lip between your teeth, sucking lightly and tilting your head for better access. You kiss him hungrily, messily, the kind of desperate kissing you usually resort to after weeks without seeing each other, and all of it sends heat lancing through his body and straight to his cock.

You're so fucking soft in his arms — delicate and strong and warm, barely resisting as he crushes you to his chest, wrinkling your blouse and slipping a hand below the waistband of your skirt. Soshiro can feel the rabbit-fast beat of your heart against his, hears the soft gasp you let out when he nicks your lip. A breeze floats in from the wide open door, ruffling his hair, and he suddenly remembers where you are.

"Soshiro…" you breathe, chasing his lips as he pulls back with all the self control he can muster. "Soshiro, c'mere."

Fuck, the way you sound —

"Quit teasin' me," Soshiro grumbles, hands heavy on your hips. He leans back and glares halfheartedly at you, though it's nearly impossible when your lips are spit slick and kiss swollen and your eyes are hazy with want. "Someone could walk by at any moment."

You blink. "Not my fault you're irresistible." You rock your hips slightly in his lap and smirk when he groans at the friction against his cock. "Are you going to jerk off in your childhood bedroom?"

"You'd like that," Soshiro notes breathlessly. "Are ya gonna touch yourself tonight? Here, on our guest futon? Are ya gonna think of me?"

"I always think of you," you confess easily. Soshiro's heart thunks painfully in his chest. You tilt your head and kiss the tip of his nose. "It'll be weird sleeping in this guest room tonight when you're so close by."

"I'll cuddle ya lots when we get back to the base," Soshiro promises. "Whatever ya want."

"Okay, I'll hold you to it," you say, kissing him sweetly. "I guess you should get out of here before we really give something for your family to talk about."

Soshiro laughs quietly and skims his lips along the smooth column of your neck. "You'll hafta let go of me if ya want me to leave."

You slide off his lap with a pout, waving him off with a small smile that drops as soon as he rounds the corner. Soshiro keeps walking, however, because whatever's going on with you is probably something that can wait until you get back to the base. He doesn't want to air out any issues where his family can hear.

After a long day of train travel and the excruciating anxiety of presenting you and your engagement to his family, Soshiro wants nothing more than to sleep. But as he approaches his room, he groans to himself. The light is on, and the shadowy figure waiting for him inside is unfortunately familiar.

"It's late," Soshiro says, sliding open the door and facing his older brother. "Can't this wait 'til tomorrow?"

"Aw, but I've gotta go back to my base tomorrow," Soichiro says. He holds out a bokken and tilts his head towards the yard outside, which is swept clear of rocks and leaves. "Wanna go a round? Or are ya still my lil Wimpshiro?"

The old nickname makes Soshiro frown. He takes the bokken and nods toward the yard. "After you, Bonehead bro."

They don't have any protective gear, but neither of them are really looking to hurt the other. Soshiro feels his muscles tense with familiarity and falls into the rhythm of his childhood — the clack and clatter of blades meeting and pushing apart, the shuffle of feet on hard packed dirt and the low swoosh as the wooden practice sword narrowly misses his hair. He can tell his older brother is holding back, but it doesn't feel disrespectful. Or like he's underestimating him. Unlike in childhood, when Soshiro knew bone deep that he could reach his brother with just a little bit more, now it feels like a mutual agreement not to wear themselves out.

"You surpassed me a long time ago, Soshiro."

The words make him jerk back in surprise. "Don't make fun of me," he snaps. "You aren't even goin' all out."

Soichiro sticks his tongue out and flicks his long braid over his shoulder. "You ain't either, lil Soshiro. I know you hate my friggin' guts, but I'm proud to be your older bro, y'know?"

Soshiro frowns. Keeps himself in a 'ready' stance. "Where's this comin' from?"

"I was listenin' to your fiancée gushin' 'bout your good qualities," Soichiro says, leaping forward with a strike that Soshiro catches with his own blade. "And I was thinkin' it's a damn shame she knows ya better than I do."

Soshiro knocks the next strike aside and falls into a flurry of practiced blows, meeting Soichiro's wooden blade at every twist and turn. "She's my fiancée."

"And she's a good one," Soichiro nods. "Makes sense that she's picked you outta everyone."

But it's fake — it's not a real engagement — you haven't picked him, not for real —

"If ya stay here any longer she might change her mind. Good thing you're goin' back to the Sixth."

It comes out before he has a chance to swallow it down, and Soichiro's next strike misses him by miles. "What're ya talkin' about, ya dope? She'd never pick me."

Soshiro sighs and rubs at the bridge of his nose. Being around his older brother and facing all these memories again is throwing him off. He walked past one of the training buildings earlier and his father's voice had leapt into his mind unbidden — Soichiro is the Hoshina family's ultimate incarnation — and while he knows it's always been out of love and worry for his safety, he can't stop the bitterness from stinging in his throat whenever he remembers his family telling him to give up on his dreams of joining the Defense Force.

And it seems it's all combining into one awful swirl of insecurity that isn't even fair to you. Soshiro knows you better than to think you'd suddenly choose his older brother over him. Even if Soshiro is used to being a reject… he's never been rejected by you.

"Anyway, I'm lookin' forward to the wedding," Soichiro says, oblivious to Soshiro's inner turmoil. "Ten bucks says you'll cry during the sake sharing ceremony."

"Shaddup, ya bonehead," Soshiro laughs in spite of himself, startled out of his thoughts. "I ain't gonna cry."

"You look at her like she's the whole world," Soichiro says. He slides into a neutral position, his wooden blade pointing downwards. "When she births your first child, you're gonna sob like a baby."

The words are cold water thrown over his shoulders. "We ain't havin' kids."

"Oh?" Soichiro flicks his braid back over his shoulder again. "That's fine. I'll let ma know she can rest easy just dealin' with mine."

"Ma… won't mind?" Soshiro asks.

"Ma just wants ya to visit more often," his older brother says, "and she likes your fiancée. Said she's cute as a button and clearly adores you, which is all ma wants for us boys."

"You're gonna let her keep pullin' ya into omiai?" Soshiro asks, dropping out of his fighting stance as well.

"Not everyone's lucky enough to find a love like yours, lil bro," Soichiro shrugs. "Let your older brother show some dignity for the clan, alright?"

Soichiro finally leaves and Soshiro sits on the deck, bokken resting across his lap. The traditional buildings creak as they settle, a familiar sound as he looks out into the deepening twilight.

One more day. One more day in his family home, and then he'll be back on a train to Tokyo with you by his side. Tomorrow the plan is to give you the tour you wanted, and then catch the shinkansen after lunch. Maybe Soshiro can borrow you for the rest of the evening, too — you can always catch the next morning train to Ariake.

"Soshiro."

"Yeah, honey?"

You bite your lip before you reply, which is Soshiro's first sign that something is up. You acted normally during the morning tour of his family home, walking close enough to brush shoulders with him and smiling without a care in the world, and you snuck in a few kisses on the train ride back to Tokyo. But now you're fiddling with the sleeve of your pretty dress and barely looking him in the eye. The train station is emptying out around you.

"I think we shouldn't see each other for a while."

Soshiro's heart clenches in his chest. This is it, then. You've finally gotten tired of him — you've figured out that you could do better, find someone better —

"I love you, but I can't… I can't give you kids. I know that's what your family expects, and it isn't right to get their hopes up like this. I like them, Soshiro. They love you so much."

Soshiro's brain feels fuzzy.

"Wait. What did you just say?"

You frown up at him. Your eyes are sparkling with unshed tears and he reaches up to thumb at your cheek, brushing along the soft skin there as he stares down at you.

"My ma doesn't care if I have kids," Soshiro says quietly. His heart is beating so loudly he can barely hear his own voice. "They just want me to visit more."

Your cheek warms under his touch. "So I've been worrying about that this whole time for nothing?"

"I only found out last night, talkin' to my big bro," Soshiro says. "Do ya really love me?"

"You're an idiot," you breathe. You reach up to grab his hand and turn to walk down the platform, tugging him along. "You're coming with me. We're going to my place this time."

Soshiro lets you drag him onto the train to Ariake, lets you hold his hand the entire time, his rough palms scraping against yours as you squeeze his fingers. The two of you make it onto Ariake base unscathed and unnoticed. You lock your room door behind you.

"Look at this," you demand, booting up your computer and pulling up a word document that fills the whole screen. Soshiro leans over the desk to read it, eyes widening with every word.

"This is…"

"My request for a transfer," you nod, stepping back and crossing your arms over your chest. "I wrote it a long time ago — before your proposal, actually. I've been in love with you for ages, Soshiro. I just didn't know if you…"

"I love you."

You blink. Your nose wrinkles as you pout. It's the cutest thing he's ever seen. "I had hopes, when you proposed, even though I knew it was fake, but you just… kept making me feel all mixed up."

"I thought I was lucky ya kept choosin' me, but my luck was gonna run out someday," Soshiro says, his voice cracking on the words. "You could choose anyone."

You roll your eyes and the tension pops like a bubble. "Why would I choose anyone else when I love you, Soshiro?"

Soshiro laughs, feeling suddenly weightless and warm and fond. He reaches for you, smiling wide when you step into his embrace easily. Your arms wrap around his waist and he relaxes into your hold, nudging your temple with his nose. "Will ya marry me for real, then?"

"Of course I will, you dummy," you bury your face into his chest. Your voice comes out muffled. "But you owe me a million cuddles first."

"Wow, inflation's really hittin' hard," Soshiro murmurs, laughing when you roll your eyes and kiss him. It starts off as a sweet kiss until you fist the back of his shirt and a bolt of heat sweeps through him. "Can I start payin' up now?"

"Yeah," you breathe, tugging him over to your bed and pulling you both down onto it. Soshiro huffs as he lands on top of you, the sweet scent of you puffing up from your blankets and pillows. "Kiss me, Soshiro."

The way you gasp his name does nothing to ease the lust clouding his veins, but Soshiro has enough presence of mind to obey, kissing you deeply as he pins you to your bed. He keeps one arm by your shoulder to prop himself up, but his other hand is free to roam your body, squeezing your tits and digging into the curve of your waist, dragging the silky fabric of your dress up to your hips. You're tugging at his clothes desperately, popping open buttons and untucking his shirt, but you keep kissing him all the while, as if you can't bear to part with his lips even for a moment.

"You're so gorgeous like this," Soshiro mutters, groaning when you palm his cock over his unbuckled pants. He throbs concerningly in your grip and he huffs a laugh into your neck. "I'm — I'm fuckin' sensitive, honey, hold on —"

"Get inside me quick, then," you murmur, shimmying out of your panties and dragging your dress off. Your bra goes flying off as well, leaving you naked beneath him like the finest feast in the world.

Soshiro pulls off his own clothes but doesn't enter you right away, determined to worship you the way you deserve when you're laid out like this for him. You gasp as he sucks and nips at your neck, arching into his touch as one large hand grips your breast. You squirm when he trails down to flick his tongue against your neglected nipple, kneading the flesh with his hand and switching sides just to suck hard at the other bud. "S-Soshiro you jerk—"

He laughs fondly as he kisses down your tummy, biting affectionately at your hip bone just to feel you twitch. His hands smooth over your thighs before he spreads them apart, scooting down the bed to settle between your legs. "You're so wet already," he says reverently, "is this all for me?"

"Please, Soshiro — ah!"

Soshiro slides two fingers into your wet, slippery heat without preamble, groaning as your walls clamp down on him. He sucks at the inner meat of your thigh as you rock your hips, scissoring his fingers to stretch you out and pressing into the spongy bit of your walls that makes you gush even more down his wrist. He laves attention to your other thigh as well, littering love bites all along your sensitive skin but avoiding where you want him most.

"Are ya close?" he asks, watching intently as you fuck yourself on his fingers. He adds another just to hear you whine, the sound going straight to his cock as his balls tighten. You look so pretty like this, desperate and hot, squirming on the bed as you chase your pleasure with his help.

You catch his gaze and he groans, scrambling up to kiss you hungrily. You moan into his mouth, tongue swiping along his own as your hands leave the bedsheets to dig into his shoulders. "Soshiro, please —"

"My gorgeous, perfect fuckin' girl," Soshiro grunts, removing his fingers from your tight hot cunt and replacing them with the head of his cock. He's leaking at the tip, throbbing and heavy, and you whine as he catches at your clit. "I'm gonna marry ya," he promises, moving his hips carefully as he enters you slowly.

"I love you," you whisper, blinking starry eyes at him as he bottoms out with a moan. Unfair tactics — you've got his heart rate flying off the charts, his entire body warm and tense with adoration and desire as he slowly pulls out just to bully his way back inside you.

"I love you, too," Soshiro says, fucking into you carefully so that he's nudging that spot inside you that makes you clench harder around him. "I'm gonna — gonna make ya happy. And proud and — I'm gonna keep ya safe."

"Soshiro, you're gonna make me cum," you gasp, giggling a little deliriously as your nails dig into his back. You wrap your legs around his hips to pull him closer, and something about that makes his body run white hot. "F-fuck, Soshiro — I'm — !"

He cums first, his cock kicking and throbbing inside you as you fall headfirst into your orgasm, bodies shuddering and releasing in unison. Soshiro buries his face in your neck, biting down as he groans, relief crashing through his body as he floods your insides with white.

"I fuckin' love you," Soshiro says, peppering your face with kisses as you pant breathlessly. You giggle and run your fingers through his hair, the sweaty purple strands sticking up as you mess with it.

"You're an idiot if you think I'll ever stop loving you," you say softly. Soshiro meets your fond gaze and smiles.

"First ya call me an idiot, then a dummy and a jerk," he says, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say ya need some new nicknames for your fiancé."

"Hmm, I'll think about it," you laugh.

The two of you stay holed up in your room for the rest of the day, eating the snacks you have stashed around and talking and dreaming and making plans for the future. Soshiro's heart does a traitorous little flutter when you ask him to make love to you a few more times — because it is love, and it's still dirty and hot and you make him cum so hard he goes boneless, but there's love there, as always.

Soshiro wakes up the next morning with a handful of something soft.

"Soshiro… I'll kick you off this bed."

He snickers into the nape of your neck and removes his hand from your breast after giving it a gentle squeeze. You turn to face him, shoving your bare legs against his, and reach to grab his hand. The morning light is seeping in through your blinds slowly, but it still catches on the pretty purple gem and the shiny silver of your engagement ring as you hold your entwined hands up.

"G'mornin', fiancée," Soshiro murmurs. You drop his hand in favor of running your fingers through his hair.

"Good morning, my love."

Hi! Im not sure if you're open some request or I might give you some idea. I wonder what Hoshina's reaction when his s/o asked him curious question “what if I disappeared one day?"

Feel free to ignore this request! ^^

Omg my first request- hi! So sorry, this got so much sadder than I wanted it to be but the short answer is the poor guy just can't live without you.

You knew marrying Soshiro Hoshina was going to be the best decision of your entire life. You'd give up a winning lottery ticket just to be able to stand next to him at the altar. Marrying him was like winning the lottery anyway, only he was a lot more attractive than a couple of numbers in your bank account.

Nothing could compare to the feeling of waking up in the middle of the night just to check the time and realizing he was wrapped around you tightly like he couldn't sleep without your skin on his. Even when he'd roll off of you, some part of him would always be touching you, whether it was his leg thrown over yours, or his arm under your neck, or even just his shoulder snug against your shoulder. He needed to touch you like he needed to breathe. And you'd never get tired of it.

Your favorite part was when you'd get up to start getting ready for work, or even just to go to the bathroom, and he'd feel you move and roll over to you mumbling "Wait... don't go, I haven't said I love you yet, okay I love you," sleep still dripping from his voice, and then he'd conk out again. You'd kiss him on the forehead, cheek, lips, anywhere really, and then whisper back, "I love you too baby." And even if he was out cold, he'd smile like he heard you.

You loved everything about being married to him, even the fights- because he couldn't stay mad at you for long. The longest fight you'd had with him in the years you'd been together lasted less than 24 hours- you'd had enough of his pouting and his cold shoulder, and so you did what any rational person would do when they wanted to go to bed and have their significant other actually come to bed with them, you stripped naked. Ended that argument real quick. In fact, he was in the bed before you even got your panties all the way off, he wanted to help.

But, after only being legally married for a few weeks, you finally discovered one thing you did not like about being married. You'd have to have the talk with him. What happens if one of you dies?

Insurance companies wanted to know, your jobs wanted to know. Honestly, you hated to talk about it, but some part of you wanted to know as well.

So one day, you sat him down to talk about life insurance, emergency contacts, all the things you don't want to talk about when you're freshly married, but that need to be talked about anyway. Who do you want me to call first if you're in an accident? Do you want to be resuscitated if you're injured beyond belief and wouldn't be able to live a normal life again even if you were brought back from the brink of death? Do you want to be cremated or buried?

Then, under the guise of talking all things rational and logical, you slipped in a question you'd secretly wanted to know. "What if I... disappeared one day? What would you do?"

He went silent, gripping the legal paperwork in his hands tightly. You hadn't expected the vast amount of pain that would stain his eyes and spill over to darken his face. You reached over to rub his hand until he loosened his hold on the papers. He sighed.

"Like if you... went missing? Or... died?" He asked, the words like knives scraping out of his throat, threatening his very livelihood.

You nodded slowly.

"Well... if you were... missing, I'd search my whole life for you. I'd never give up. And if you... died. I'd be right there with you." He said solemnly.

You wanted to stop this conversation right now and tell him something like you'd never die or you'd never go missing, anything to erase the hurt that he was in right now because of you. But you couldn't stand the thought of you actually dying or going missing and him spending his whole life in pain because he couldn't move on.

You kneel on the floor in front of him and grab both his hands which have now been balled up into fists. You kiss at his fists and keep kissing them until his hands relax and wrap around your hands. He's shaking but he holds onto you tight like you'll disappear if he lets go.

"Baby." You say, making sure you have his attention. He won't look at you, it's like he knows what you're going to say. He always knows what you're going to say.

You pull a hand away from his trembling fingers and cup his face with it, stroking smoothly at his cheek. "If I die, I want you to promise me you'll live on and be happy."

He shakes his head no immediately. "Can't do that, love."

You smile at him warmly. "Baby. It'll be okay. I want you to be happy."

For the first time in your life, you think you might make him cry. If this weren't such a depressing moment, you might tease him about the Vice Captain of the Third Division being such a crybaby. But you can't tease him. You can't even seem to get anymore words out when you see the state he's in. He's acting like you're dead right now. His face has gone pale and clammy and his fingers must be bruised from pressing into your skin so hard to make sure you're still there. His eyes... you almost can't look at his eyes anymore as you see the tears start to collect. It's like he's drowning but there's no bottom so he just keeps sinking and sinking.

"I-" He starts but this time the words get stuck. He blinks and the force of it pushes a tear over the edge. You watch as it trails down his cheek, feeling helpless but also in a heartbreaking way, feeling so very loved by him. He swallows and then clears his throat. "I-I'm happy.... because you're here. How could I... be h-happy... without.. without you?"

You can't take it anymore. You stand up and throw your arms around him, hoping maybe he'll forget this whole conversation if you smother him with enough love. He pulls you in even closer to him and sighs deeply, like he's exhaling his first fresh breath of air after being submerged for so long. You think you might crack a rib from how tight he's holding onto you, but you're scared to pull away, having never seen him so vulnerable like this.

"Don't cry baby, you're going to make me cry." You mumble into his shoulder.

"Don't die then. Don't give me a reason to cry."

You smile against his shoulder. "Alright baby. You got me. I won't die. Ever."

He runs his fingers through your hair and you wonder if the repetitive motion is to soothe him or you. "That's my girl," he murmurs against your neck as he nuzzles up against you.

"That's my girl," he repeats again, "My one, my only."

This is such a brainrot but this song is definitely hoshina coded like literally. You cannot change my mind that this is so captain!reader having a private relationship with vice captain hoshina coded (IF SOMEONE DOES A STORY ABT IT I WOULD LOVE TO READ IT SO PLS DO U WILL SO HELP ME IN MY LIFE

content: hard and soft thoughts, extremely suggestive (18+), dad!cheol

Thinking about Choi Seungcheol and how both of you have ridiculously high sex drives and can't keep your hands off of each other especially at the beginning stages of your relationship.

How both of you would be the type to jump each other as soon as they come home, and even more so after the times where either of you are traveling and couldn't see each other for extended periods of time.

How you'd always find ways and excuses to push the limits and do it anywhere anytime. Birthdays? You're at it as soon as the clock hits midnight. Anniversaries? So many weekend getaways where you two hardly leave the bed. New hairstyle? Of course you pounce on him to show him how good he looks. Bad day? He will literally take the day off to worship you in every way imaginable.

How you two gain sort of a reputation amongst the members. Whenever you get invited along for group trips, everyone has to play a game to pick rooms and losers will always take the room next to yours where they're submitted to all sorts of noises throughout the night.

How the members ask him out of pure curiosity how often he actually gets lucky and are in jaw-dropping shock at his smug response of “every day if possible. sometimes more than once.”

How even after years of being together, there's always something new to try because he loves spoiling you with spicy gifts and lingerie whenever he can.

How one year when Father's Day comes around, you finally ask the question if he wants to be a real daddy. It doesn't take long before he's all over you again, determined to put a baby in you.

How emotional he gets when you tell him that the tests came out positive, with a newfound determination to dote on you more than he has in his entire life for the next 9 months.

How giddy he'd be going shopping for all things baby related. He will stop at nothing to ensure his kid gets the best things in life, doing hours of research with you on what products are safest and most highly rated for new parents.

How absolutely SPOILED ROTTEN his kid would be by his 12 godfathers. Emergency childcare wouldn't even be an issue in your household with a dozen competitive men all trying to win uncle of the year.

How despite all the anxiety and doubt that comes with being a first time parent, he knows it will all be ok because he has you by his side.

Somebody [SVTHUB world tour collab]

pairing; choi seungcheol x f!reader

genre; smut (minor dni), fluff, angst, romance, fake dating au

summary; When you need someone to help you out of a bind quickly, you pick the first person you see to be your “boyfriend”, you just didn’t expect it to be your single hot dad neighbor, Choi Seungcheol…

content warnings; single father!seungcheol, teacher!reader, seungcheol has a child (obviously), eating/drinking, jeonghan/joshua (implied relationship but not stated), betting metioned, alcohol, medical field - doctor!seungcheol, doctor!joshua, mentions cheating in past relationship, mentions death/accident of spouse - widow!seungcheol --- i am sure there are more, if there is anything important you want me to add let me know

smut warnings; unprotected sex (birth control mentioned), creampie, fingering, oral (f receiving), begging, crying (pleasure), multiple orgasm, lots of pet names, marriage kink, seungcheol carries the reader and is larger than the reader, manhandling, shower sex...again if I miss something let me know.

w/c; 25.2k and some change (623 extra words for patreon bonus)

svthub world tour masterlist

a/n; thank you to my @junkissed for proofreading for me once again, i love you so so much. i really hope you guys enjoy my little addition to the svthub world tour and those on tumblr will join me in Barcelona for the bonus 💕

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

You were exhausted. You had been living in your new apartment complex for around three months, yet you still weren’t completely unpacked. Between work and just a general unwillingness to complete a single project that had to do with your personal life, it seemed easier to let the boxes sit where they lay until they became an inconvenience. Today, they were an inconvenience. 

So now you find yourself having worked a full eight hour work day and you still managed to unpack four of the daunting boxes, and you were feeling pretty good about yourself. At least you were until you made your way down to the parking lot to put the boxes into the recycling bin and heard an unwelcome voice. 

“Y/N… hey.” 

Your ex-boyfriend’s voice made any strength you had in your arms leave as you attempted to push the boxes into the large blue bin. He didn’t live in your complex. In fact, you had moved out of your shared apartment with him, which was at least a 20 minute drive away. It should surprise you that he would show up uninvited and unannounced, but after a five year relationship with him, you knew he was persistent. 

Wiping your hands off on your jeans, you clear your throat and turn to meet the man’s eyes before looking for how you were going to get out of the situation. You weren’t afraid of your ex; it was more that he didn’t know when to stop. You had told him time and time again, after a very messy breakup where you had caught him cheating, that you wouldn’t take him back. It didn’t make it any easier that you had the same profession as him and when things had been great, the two of you had applied at the same place. 

“Alex… wild seeing you here. You don’t even live here.” 

He knew you were being evasive. You did the same thing at work, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t still try. Persistence was key. There had been something there between the two of you that made a relationship last for as long as it did, and if he worked hard enough, he could get it back. At least that’s what he thought. 

Sighing, Alex watches you turn away from him, heading back towards the building. Following behind you, he groans when you shoot him a dirty look. 

“Babe, seriously? I’m looking at the apartments in the area. I thought I’d just stop by and say hi.” 

Rolling your eyes, you use your body to shield the keypad so you can type in the code to unlock the complex’s door, hearing the code get denied, once and then twice. You were flustered and hitting the wrong buttons. 

“Sure, whatever. You have a perfectly fine apartment, and don’t call me babe. I’m not your babe.” 

When you can’t seem to get into the building, Alex sighs again, reaching out to try to comfort you, but he only manages to make you uncomfortable as he grabs your arm, telling you to calm down. You look to the door surprised to see it opening, a larger man furrowing his brows at the sight in front of him before you give him a relieved and pleading look. 

"Oh, thank God, hi honey. Alex, have you met my boyfriend?” 

Tilting his head in confusion, Seungcheol looks between you and the man holding your arm before he sees the desperation on your face. You were in some sort of distress. He knew you lived in the building; in fact, you were his neighbor, though he hadn’t had much of a chance to speak to you yet. Seungcheol knew he could say he didn’t know you, go on his way, staying out of your business, but something about you and what was happening told him he needed to play along. Extending his hand towards the one around your arm, Seungcheol gives the man a tight warning smile. 

“Hey man, I’m Seungcheol.” 

You feel Alex’s hand slide from your arm, his brows furrowing at the new information. Watching the two men, you feel your heart in your throat as they shake hands and the man named Seungcheol moves closer to you with a smile, looking at you expectantly.

“It was great to meet you Alex, but uh...” Clearing his throat, Seungcheol tries to think about how to get you out of this without making you uncomfortable. Shrugging, he sighs and just goes for it. “I was just coming to see why you had been gone for so long. Dinner is ready.” 

Your cheeks burn as Alex stares at you, his eyes narrowing. You can tell he is almost looking for holes in your and Seungcheol’s story, but when you smile and Seungcheol puts his arm around your shoulders, Alex rolls his eyes. You weren’t sure if he actually bought the entire story on the spot, but it had been enough to get him to put his hands in his pockets and for him to back up, muttering. 

“I’ll see you at work, Y/N.” 

Offering your ex a strained smile, you lean into Seungcheol until Alex is out of sight. Taking a deep breath, you feel the pressure of being around him lift off of you before you glance up at Seungcheol and give him an apologetic look. Moving his arm, Seungcheol chuckles and shakes his head, turning back towards the door and using his keyfob to open it for you, letting you slip by him. 

“Uh…thank you. Seriously. I’m so fucking sorry to drag you into that.” 

Leaning against the metal doorframe, Seungcheol just smiles and shrugs. His eyes stay on yours as you walk backwards for a few steps towards the elevator. 

“My pleasure, honey. Have a good evening.” 

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips when the handsome man teases you. Backing into the elevator door, you laugh and shake your head, turning to press the button before glancing back to look at Seungcheol, still watching you for a moment before he waves and lets the door shut, leaving you alone. 

Finally, in the elevator, you can take a breath as you lean against the wall. With each soft ding of the elevator as it climbs the floors, you chew at your lips and laugh under your breath at how the exchange between you and Seungcheol has ended. It was silly for you to feel so smitten by someone who had just helped you out of a hard situation, but god had he been attractive. 

Walking towards your apartment, you sigh, taking your key out of your pocket as you glance to the door next to yours. Your brows furrow as you remember the first few days when you had moved into the apartment complex and you had met your neighbor in passing. He had been nice, asked you if you needed any help, but most of all, he had been attractive. Feeling your heart sink into your stomach, you picture the face of the man who had asked if you needed help moving boxes and it’s the same face that had pretended to be your boyfriend. 

“Sara!” 

Jutting your hip to the side, you barely manage to let one of your students run by you as he heads straight for a friend. Smiling at the interaction, you don’t notice the boy's father trailing behind him, a small backpack in his hands. 

“Matthew… You need to apologize to your teacher. I know you are excited, but still watch where you are going.” 

Shaking your head, you start to turn around towards the somewhat familiar voice when the small boy pouts up at you. He is so cute that you can’t stop yourself from squatting down to his level to smile at him and adjust his small tie on his uniform. 

“‘M sorry, teacher. I haven’t seen Sara all summer. Daddy wouldn’t let me stay at her house because I’m a boy.” 

You find yourself nodding along with his words, sympathizing with him until you can’t help the small laugh that slips from your lips. 

“It’s okay, Matthew. There will be plenty of time to play with Sara at school. Cut your daddy some slack, okay?” 

Ushering him along, you watch him for a moment longer, half turning towards the boy's father but still not quite looking at him. You have a habit of watching your students more than you do their parents, it would only take a second for a five year old to find trouble. 

“Don’t worry about Matthew. No harm done.” 

Seungcheol grins at you as you watch the kids so diligently. He had no idea that you were his son’s teacher; this was a happy surprise, or perhaps an awkward one. He hadn’t really made up his mind yet. It isn’t until you finally glance at him and your mouth falls open in confusion that Seungcheol presses his lips together and winces at your reaction. 

“Didn’t know your boyfriend had a kid, huh? Is that a deal breaker?” 

You can feel your cheeks burning at Seungcheol’s joke, but your eyes quickly move over him before you give yourself something else to do by reaching for Matthew’s bag. It was better if you kept yourself busy and just did your job. Laughing a bit awkwardly, you meet Seungcheol’s eyes and bite at your lip out of nerves as he lets you take the bag and you move to the small wooden cubbies to find Matthew’s name. 

“Uh… I will be honest, I didn’t. I’m sorry again, by the way. Even more so now. I swear to you, I’m not a complete mess; I’m a good teacher.” 

Shaking his head, Seungcheol finds himself frowning when you seem to find the need to explain yourself and defend your position. He hadn’t meant to cause that reaction. 

“I—no… I’m sure you are. I’ve heard nothing but great things about you leading up to today. I apologize… that was rude of me. I was just trying to make a joke. Break the tension.” 

Feeling a pang of guilt at your reaction as Seungcheol frowns, you take a deep breath and shake your head. You didn’t want him to feel bad. It just wasn’t the most ideal situation to find yourself in with a parent. Running your fingers over your hair, you press your lips together and scrunch up your nose, drawing Seungcheol’s attention to it. He smiles, finding the expression on your face cute. You were cute. 

“No, no, I know. I’m sorry. I’ve only been here a couple years and this is my first year without working in someone else's classroom. I just don’t wanna mess up.” 

Seungcheol nodded, understanding the feeling—perhaps not in the same profession, but he had been there in his own way. Gesturing towards the kids, Matthew in particular, as your eyes once again move over the kids, more of them making their way in, he shrugs as he speaks. 

“With how you have been watching them... I don’t think we have a single thing to worry about.” 

He finds himself wanting to stay, if not just to talk to you but also to Matthew. It was his first day of big boy school, and even if Matthew looked like he was doing just fine with the adjustment, Seungcheol couldn’t say the same for himself. One glance at his wrist, seeing how much time he had spent standing in the classroom, however, makes Seungcheol sigh and run his fingers through his brown hair. 

“I gotta go. I should get out of the way anyway. Matthew…” 

Hearing his name, the small boy perks up and looks towards his dad with a grin before making his way over. Ruffling his hair, Seungcheol practically pouts, making your heart feel heavy. This part was hard, even for you. You didn’t have children of your own, but the sentiment was still there when you watched loving parents leave their children for the day. 

“I love you. Please be good. Learn somethin’?” 

Giggling, Matthew leans into his dad’s touch and rocks on the balls of his feet as you take a step away to give them a moment to themselves. 

“Love you too. I’m so smart, Daddy. Teacher will be suppised!” 

Rolling his eyes at how cocky his son sounds, Seungcheol groans under his breath and looks at his watch again. 

“Yeah, alright, it's 'surprised’ and stay away from Uncle Jeonghan. Learn some humility.” 

“I don’t know what that means, Daddy.” 

Your small laugh draws Seungcheol’s attention and makes him grin as he ushers Matthew towards you. 

“I bet Miss Y/N knows and she will let me know if you’ve put it into practice when I pick you up after school.” 

Winking at you, Seungcheol turns to head out the door, glancing over his shoulder to wave at you as he goes. Looking down at the small boy with an expectant look in his eye, you bite at your lip and try to think about how you are going to explain humility and modesty to a five year old on a Monday morning. 

“That’s so good!” 

You clap as you watch a few of your kids preen with pride after counting to ten. They had been working hard after recess and a snack. It had been a good first day and you were proud of each and every one of them, even if you couldn’t help how your eye kept going to Matthew. He was so cute—not that all the kids in your class weren’t; there was just something about his gummy smile that reminded you so much of his dad. 

Looking up at the clock as the bell rings, you quickly look back at the kids, who mostly look confused until the door opens and parents start to file in. 

“Hey! Everybody… I know you want to see your parents, but let’s remember to grab our bags. Cubbies first, please!” 

You watch as most of the kids listen to you, moving in small lines to the wooden cubbies to grab their jackets and bags before finding their parents and heading out the door. Bending to pick up a few toys, you furrow your brows when you hear your name. It’s said by a small, familiar voice—Matthew, who pouts at you when you finally meet his eyes. He looks around, seeing most of the room clearing out, but his dad is nowhere to be found. 

“Hey, what’s up? Maybe your daddy is running late. Maybe mommy is coming?” 

Shaking his head, Matthew gives you a confused look as he tugs at the bag on his shoulder. 

“I don’t have a mommy. Can you call my daddy?” 

Feeling a pang of guilt at mentioning his mother, you squat down to Matthew’s level so he doesn’t have to tilt his head back to look up at you anymore. You knew you could call Seungcheol if you needed to, but school had just ended. Maybe you could give him a few more minutes. Reaching for Matthew’s bag, you sigh and offer the boy a smile, watching him match it with that cute gummy grin. 

“How about we give him a few more minutes and if he doesn’t come, we can call him? You can pick any book you want and I’ll read it to you.” 

The idea of choosing any book in the room is enough to make Matthew okay with your terms. Wiggling out of his bag, he goes to the shelf, looking over the book covers as you stand and put his bag on the table with your purse. Checking the clock, your brows furrow with a sigh. It wasn’t that late and you were sure this wouldn’t be the last child you would be waiting for. 

Cursing under his breath, Seungcheol looks at his watch as he speed walks through the school halls towards your classroom. He was over 30 minutes late and he was sure you were upset with him. He should have called but he was more concerned with trying to get to the school in one piece. 

Reaching the door, he starts to speak when he hears your soft voice and for some reason, it makes him stop in his tracks. He sees Matthew sitting in your lap as he rests back against your chest, a book in your hands. You smile as you read the book, trying to come up with a voice for each character, making his son laugh. Seungcheol almost feels bad for interrupting the moment, but then he feels bad again for leaving you here at work with Matthew for so long. 

“Y/N…”

Lifting your head, hearing your name, you smile at Seungcheol, feeling Matthew slip off your lap and run towards the door. You were definitely second best, but that was completely fair. Seungcheol holds the back of Matthew’s head as the boy wraps his arms around his legs and pouts up at him, asking him where he’s been. 

“I got caught up at work; I’m so so sorry. It won’t happen again.” 

Moving towards the table, you pick up Matthew’s bag as you shake your head. 

“It’s no problem. It happens. Maybe you could just text me to let me know if you are gonna be late?” 

Nodding, Seungcheol lets out a breath, lifting his hand to rub at the back of his neck. You were right. 

“No… yeah, absolutely. I’ll make it up—” 

“Oh! Hey… Seungcheol, right?” 

Your smile fades hearing Alex’s voice as you watch Seungcheol’s brows furrow in confusion. Moving quicker towards the door, to hand Seungcheol Matthew’s bag and get his attention, but his eyes move to your ex. 

“I—yeah… I gotta get Matthew home.” 

Looking towards you as if asking for an explanation, Seungcheol takes the bag from your hand while ushering his son out the door. You try to let him go, gesturing towards the hall, when Alex scoffs and gives him a once over muttering under his breath. 

“Seriously, Y/N? A parent...” 

Swallowing hard, you feel your chest tighten when Seungcheol stops in his tracks. You wouldn’t blame him if he told Alex it was all bullshit right there. It would be smart of you to do it, he wasn’t going to let it go either way. Starting to speak, you stop when Seungcheol is quicker, keeping his voice low as he smirks at Alex. 

“Is there a policy against that, Alex?” Glancing at you, Seungcheol reaches out to grab your hand, squeezing it lightly, winking at you before dropping it. “See you later, Y/N.” 

Your cheeks burn as you watch Seungcheol walk down the hall with Matthew. The young boy glancing back to smile at you curiously before looking up at his dad and saying something you can’t make out. Beside you, Alex’s jaw tightens as he watches you keep your eyes on the man leaving. What he wouldn’t give for you to look at him like that again. 

“There should be a policy against it…” 

Shooting him a look, you turn towards your classroom, your hand on the doorframe as you speak. 

"Well, there isn’t, Alex, but there is one about harassment. Leave me alone.” 

You watch his mouth open and close a couple of times as you close the door in his face, leaving you in peaceful silence to wrap your mind around what had just happened.

Wiping sweat from your brow, you glance around your living room at the boxes that had once been piled up in a corner. It had been difficult to tell if you were moving in or out, but as you broke down, one last box signified that you had officially settled in. It had only taken you months to do it, and for some reason this Saturday felt like the right moment; everything was feeling like home in this apartment for once. 

Grabbing as many of the boxes as you can, you let out a groan at how many trips you are going to have to take as you make your way to your front door and push it open with your shoulder. Cursing under your breath to the sound of your keys hitting the floor at your feet, you try to lean down without putting down the boxes when a hand brushes over your fingers, taking your keys from you. Before you are able to say anything, your eyes meet Seungcheol's, and your lips pull up into a shy smile. 

“Your hands seemed full.” 

Nodding as you take the keys and slip them into your back pocket, you don’t notice Seungcheol glancing into your apartment, seeing the pile of boxes. It isn’t until he clears his throat, gesturing inside, that you tilt your head curiously.

“Want me to help with the rest? I think we can get them all down to the bin in one go.” 

Your first instinct is to tell him no, that you don’t want to bother him, but there is a look in his eye that you don’t want to turn him away. So you step out into the hall and smile at Seungcheol instead. 

“I mean, if you are really offering.” 

Laughing, Seungcheol nods and slides past you, glancing around your apartment with a grin before he leans down to pick up the larger pile of boxes, heading back towards you. 

“It’s not a big deal, Y/N. I was hoping to talk to you today anyway.” 

Moving through the hall with Seungcheol at your side, you use your elbow to press the elevator button, your head once again tilting to the side, almost like a puppy hearing a new word as you listen to him speak. He wanted to talk to you. You try to think of the reason, but only one comes to mind.  

“Is it about Matthew?” 

Pursing his lips briefly, Seungcheol quickly smiles at your assumption and nods to cover up any doubt. You weren’t wrong in thinking he would want to talk about his son. You were his teacher, it was only fair that he would be the topic of normal conversation. 

“Mmm, he loves school. I think you are the main reason.” 

Shaking your head, you step off the elevator and head for the main doors out of the apartment building with Seungcheol in tow. When you stop to lean your boxes against the wall, opening the door for him, Seungcheol smiles at you as he moves through the door, only to stop and hold it open for you with his foot. 

“Thanks, but no... I think it’s his friends. He loves hanging out with Sara.” 

Seungcheol lets the door close behind you before trailing along at your side as he shakes his head. He knew how much his son liked his friends, but there was something different about Matthew since he had started school. 

“It’s more than that. He’s eager to get there. He can see Sara anytime, and that doesn't have to be at school. He wants to get to Miss Y/N’s class.” 

Feeling your cheeks heat up, your lips pull up into a smile that you are unable to hide even as you look down. It was one thing to be told you were good at your job; it was another to hear that a student wanted to go to school because of your class. It was everything a teacher wanted to hear. 

Watching Seungcheol push his boxes into the bin, you run your fingers along the underside of one of the boxes still in your hands. You weren’t sure if he even understood the gift he had given you while helping you with a mundane task that you had been dreading. Glancing down, you take a deep breath, hoping the butterflies in your stomach will calm down when Seungcheol’s voice brings you back to reality. 

“Here, let me put these in there too.” 

Meeting his eyes, you swallow hard, feeling his fingers glide over yours as Seungcheol takes the boxes from your hands. When you glance away with a small smile on your lips, he takes notice. Pushing the rest of the boxes into the bin, Seungcheol bites at his lip, trying to choose his words carefully, before he turns back to you and scratches at his brow. 

“Anything else to throw away? Is what’s his name lingering around? I can toss him in too.” 

Feeling your cheeks burn, you scoff into a laugh as Seungcheol moves back to your side. Walking in tandem towards the building, you glance up at him, shaking your head as he laughs, along with you leaning to knock your arm with his to let you know he is joking. 

“Alex… and thankfully he isn’t. God, I am so sorry about all of that. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved to begin with.” 

Shaking his head, Seungcheol purses his lips, watching you take your keys out to tap your fob against the reader, letting him open the door for you. 

“It’s not a big deal. You seemed really uncomfortable. I was happy to help… I mean, I still am. He strikes me as the type to not give up easily.” 

Scoffing once again, you follow Seungcheol to the elevator, leaning against the wall as you meet his eyes. That was an understatement. If he was able to tell from just a couple of meetings with your ex, that should say plenty about Alex’s character. You find yourself allowing your eyes to move over Seungcheol’s face, his handsome eyes, and his plump lips before you sigh and look down at your hands as the elevator steadily climbs the floors. 

“He’s not. He thinks that’s a redeeming quality.” Sighing into your words, you push off the wall as the doors open, stepping out into the hall as Seungcheol follows you. “But he’d be wrong. I couldn’t ask you to help me anymore. You’ve done so much.” 

Offering Seungcheol a smile, you walk backwards for a moment as he tilts his head, his own smile lifting at one side as his eyes move over you. You were so cute; he knew it was dangerous this game he was playing. He wanted to get close to you and he knew there were better ways, this had just been the one that had been presented to him. 

“You didn’t ask. I’m offering… Speaking of, you busy this evening?” 

Shaking your head, you slide your keys from your pocket as you watch Seungcheol lean against his door. You can’t help but notice the way your eyes once again move over him. He was possibly the most handsome man you had ever seen and also the most unattainable. You needed to remember who he was and the boundary that was set, even if it was blurred. 

“Mm, no. Why? Need some help with Matthew?” 

Seungcheol sighs into a laugh. It wasn’t unfair that you’d assume he wanted to ask you something involving his kid, but he just smiles as you look at him curiously, as if realizing for the first time that Matthew isn’t around. 

“Oh… no. He’s with my parents this weekend. I was gonna ask if you wanted to come over for dinner?” 

Your brows furrow at Seungcheol’s question. That boundary was getting even more blurred as you considered his question and he seemed to see you struggle before he laughed and bit his lips before speaking up again. 

“We can talk about how to pretend to be a good fake couple. You know, for appearances sake. Maybe get Alex to get a life.” 

While Seungcheol’s explanation wasn’t entirely convincing, you smiled and nodded. In truth, you didn’t want to turn down the dinner invitation. You didn’t want to tell Seungcheol no and that you didn’t want to spend more time with him, even if Matthew wasn’t involved. It was a dangerous line you were walking. 

“Great! Uh… around 6?” 

At 5:55 you were considering texting Seungcheol to tell him that you had suddenly come down with the flu. Your anxiety was causing your heart to rise into your throat as you tugged at your shirt, trying to make sure you looked decent. 

With your hand hovering over the door, you whine to yourself before knocking lightly at Seungcheol’s door and waiting. Maybe he would make it easier on you and just not answer the door, but then the idea of that makes you frown. You hate the idea of not being able to spend the evening with Seungcheol. Even the idea of something disrupting it causes disappointment to bubble in your stomach until the door opens and you are met with his handsome face and a gummy smile that matches your favorite one of Matthew’s. 

“Hey, you look—uh… I mean, you look pretty. Come in.” 

Seungcheol stumbles over his words, the flush of his cheeks evident as he shakes his head, trying to keep his head and not overstep with you. He knew where he stood and where he wanted this to go, but you had made yourself pretty clear the first day in your classroom. You were his son’s teacher and now this situation... It was odd. Seungcheol was just happy to at least have you in his life as a friend, if not more. 

Swallowing hard, you look down to hide your smile as Seungcheol compliments you. You weren’t sure how to react, so instead you pressed your lips together and gestured outward to his apartment. 

“Your place is so nice.” 

Shrugging, Seungcheol leads you towards the open kitchen and living room area where, the dinner, he has been working on bubbles quietly on the stove. You watch him adjust the temperature and stir a sauce as he sighs, tilting his head. 

“It’s a mess. I should have cleaned up more. I don’t usually have company besides a few friends, but they are used to Matthew’s shit laying around. Here, do you like this?” 

Holding the wooden spoon out towards you over the bar, Seungcheol watches as you blink at him a couple times before leaning forward to take a bit of the sauce off the spoon. It is savory and delicious as it hits your tongue and the back of your throat. Closing your eyes, you nod and lift your fingers to brush them over your lips as he watches you with a smile on his face at your reaction. 

“It’s delicious, Seungcheol.” 

Turning down the heat even more, Seungcheol moves to the sink to strain another larger pot as you watch him closely. His voice is calm and soothing. Everything about him makes you feel almost instantly comfortable in a space where you thought you’d want to hide under the table without a reason to truly be there. 

“I don’t know if it’s all that great. You are being nice, but this is my go to for dinner. Matthew likes pasta and I’m halfway decent at it. So I hope you actually like it.” 

Licking your lips, you lift your hand to cover your smile as you watch Seungcheol putting the finishing touches on dinner. He moves with ease, his eyes catching yours every once in a while, making your skin erupt in chillbumps as you glance away shyly. You could feel yourself getting too comfortable around him if you were to let your guard down, and that was all your body was telling you to do. 

“Mind to grab a couple of those wine glasses?” 

Glancing to your right, you shake your head gently before collecting two of the fragile glasses as Seungcheol moves past you towards the table. You hear your stomach growl as the smell of the pasta and garlic bread greets your nose when you get close enough to set the glasses down. Smiling, Seungcheol sneaks a look in your direction, watching your brows furrow and your lips turn down in embarrassment as he hears the grumble coming from your stomach. 

“I—sorry. I didn’t eat lunch.” 

Shaking his head, he picks up the bottle of wine, twisting the opener into the cork as he takes a breath to cover a small laugh. Seungcheol swore he could feel the effects of the alcohol before even taking a sip, with you standing so close to him and with how sweet you were. He knew this was a dangerous arrangement. Not that either of you would be doing anything wrong, but as the moments ticked by, it was getting difficult not to give into lingering glances. 

“You have nothing to apologize for. Except perhaps to yourself. You need to eat regularly, Y/N.” 

Groaning playfully, you hold the glasses steady, allowing Seungcheol to easily pour wine into each before he moves your chair, letting you sit down first. You can feel your cheeks flush up into your ears. The sound of blood rushing to your head has your hand reaching for your wine, bringing the glass to your lips to take a sip of the liquid courage as Seungcheol lifts your plate, putting pasta on it with an appreciative hum. 

“Thank you. I promise, I’m usually better about eating... and I always make sure the kids eat their lunch and snacks at school. So don’t think my own behavior somehow reflects—” 

Moving his hand from the serving fork, Seungcheol slides it over yours, meeting your eyes as you start to ramble. You were spiraling and there was no reason for it. 

“Hey… I know you are a good teacher. I don’t worry a single moment in the day about Matthew’s wellbeing when I know he’s with you. Don’t worry about that.” 

Taking a deep breath, you flex your fingers under Seungcheol’s palm, feeling his hands wrap around yours as his brows furrow. You can see the look in his eye and how he’s searching to make sure you understand what he’s told you, so you nod. Even if you didn’t completely feel adequate, you needed Seungcheol to let go of your hand before you fainted into his floor or made a run for the door. 

“Mmkay… I–mm…” Smiling, trying to compose yourself, you watch Seungcheol’s hand move from yours to his wine, making you feel like you can take a breath. “The wine is very good. Thank you for inviting me to eat.” 

Letting the wine glide over his tongue, Seungcheol smiles against the glass. He had noticed that you were starting to panic, but so was he. It hadn’t been his intention, but the alternative was you feeling like you weren’t good enough and that just wouldn’t work for him. Gesturing towards your plate, Seungcheol clears his throat and tilts his head before picking up his own fork. 

“Thank you for eating with me. I’m a sad, lonely sap when Matthew is gone on weekends. You saved me from boredom.” 

You weren’t sure how truthful Seungcheol was being but his words made you feel warm and they made you settle into your chair. They gave you a purpose to be there and not rush. You didn’t want him to be lonely. You suddenly realized how quiet it was in the apartment. You were used to that in yours but you could also sometimes hear Seungcheol and Matthew through the walls and they always sounded happy together. Of course, a weekend alone might be lonely for him. 

Two glasses of wine down and after refusing another helping of pasta, you felt even more relaxed around Seungcheol. He was funny and warm. You understood even more about Matthew after spending time with his dad. They were like a mirror image of one another and as much as you adored Matthew, you could see yourself feeling that way about Seungcheol as the night carried on. 

Soon you found yourself on his couch, another glass of wine in your hand as you pulled your legs up under you. Seungcheol grinned at you as you told him about going through your first year of assistant teaching. He could tell that you had a passion for your career and it was just one of the many things he was starting to love about you. This was becoming one of the easiest and equally difficult evenings of his night. While he loved talking to you and being close to you, he couldn’t help as his eyes moved over your pretty face and along your neck as he pictured getting closer to you and seeing if you’d let him touch you. Instead, he kept his respectful distance and admired you. 

Watching Seungcheol stand up to grab another bottle of wine, you tilt your head, letting your eyes move along his fit frame. You weren’t blind. You were a woman, you had needs, and god, if your body wasn’t screaming at you that you were an idiot for not trying to get closer to the man who had been smiling at you for the past few hours. You were simultaneously enraptured by him and terrified of him. You could see yourself falling for him and it would be hard and messy. It couldn’t end well, because the first person you saw in your mind was Matthew. 

Looking back around the room to pull your mind back to the present, despite the euphoric cloud of alcohol, you smile seeing the pictures of the boy on the wall. There were so many, from the time he was an infant to now. You could see pictures of Seungcheol and Matthew with others as well. A woman who you assumed was Matthew’s mother and some men who looked to be around Seungcheol’s age, perhaps brothers. A wave of longing hits you and you rest your head on your arm, a frown on your face as you keep looking around, finally noticing the degrees on the furthest wall. 

Narrowing your eyes, you struggle to make out the words, finally sitting up and leaning forward to read as Seungcheol moves back to the couch with a sigh. Reaching for your glass, the man says something you don’t pay attention to as he tries to hand you the glass. 

“Y/N? Is white wine okay?” 

Blinking a couple of times, you meet Seungcheol’s eyes and look at the glass in his hand with a clueless look on your face. A smile spreads over his face. He tilts his head and lets you take the glass from him as you gesture towards the wall with your other hand. 

“You—wait… You’re a doctor?” 

You weren’t sure what you had assumed Seungcheol did for a living, but a doctor hadn’t been on your bingo card. Looking around the room as you feel reality setting in, you can see that things make a bit more sense. The furniture was really nice. The wine was delicious and tasted expensive. Seungcheol, even in lounge wear, looked expensive. 

Shrugging, Seungcheol purses his lips as he takes a sip of the wine from the glass in his hand as he looks at his medical degree on the wall. He hadn’t really considered that you didn’t know or that it would matter. Meeting your eyes once again, he sighs and leans back against the back of the couch, getting comfortable. 

“Mmhm, family medicine. I have a small private practice in the city and a couple days a week I work out of the hospital in the emergency room. Are you that surprised? Do I not look smart enough to be a doctor or something?” 

Sitting up, you shake your head so fast Seungcheol is afraid you might get whiplash. Reaching forward as he laughs, he runs his fingers over your arm as you lift your glass to your lips, finally taking another sip to calm your nerves before explaining your apparent shock. 

“No…No—of course you are smart. You just don’t look like a doctor. I didn’t expect you to be... you know.” 

When you don’t elaborate, Seungcheol laughs as he leans to put his glass on a coaster on the end table. You take another larger sip of your wine as your eyes fall to the fingers of his other hand as they rest against your forearm and the couch. It isn’t lost on you, no matter how tipsy you might be or how much you enjoy his fingers on your skin. 

“I don’t know. Tell me. You can tell me anything.” 

That was a very dangerous thing to say to you and Seungcheol seemed to know it as he watched you snort into a laugh. Giving you the smile that you had grown to love so much, he bites at his lip and leans forward slightly, listening to the laugh fade as your eyes focus on him. 

“Seriously, tell me what you mean.” 

There was a lump in your throat and wine wasn’t going to get it to go down. You weren’t sure anything could. No matter how much you swallowed or cleared your throat, it was only when you glanced down at your wine that you were able to feel the pressure subside enough that you could talk. 

“I—you know what I mean, Seungcheol. The whole package, I guess.” 

Shaking his head again, Seungcheol sighs out a laugh, wishing he could just get you to say what you mean instead of this game where you beat around the bush. 

“Package? Like from Amazon? What are we talking about here, Y/N? Help me out.” 

He was frustrating in the most adorably clueless and teasing way. You had a feeling he knew what you were hinting at, even if he was trying to play dumb; he was a doctor after all. You had already insulted his intelligence once. Glancing up long enough to meet Seungcheol’s eyes, you take a deep breath and let it out with a sigh that sounds more like a laugh as you speak. 

“You’re incredibly attractive, a doctor, obviously successful, and a good dad. The whole package. I don’t think you can order that on Amazon.” 

Seungcheol bites at his lip after hearing you explain your words. It was better than he had anticipated. He felt bad for making you say it, he knew it had to be somewhat embarrassing, but he had to hear it. He might never hear it again, because at the end of the day, this wasn’t a real relationship. 

“Mm, well, that’s good for your boyfriend to know.”

Opening your mouth, you look confused but Seungcheol grins and picks up his wine, letting you off the hook as he takes a sip and continues. 

“You know, fake boyfriend.” 

A small, confused laugh slips from between your lips as you nod, trying to act like it is easy to understand and it all makes sense. You try to pretend like this is going to be easy and that him “helping” you keep up this ruse is a good idea, but who was it actually helping? 

“Right, my fake boyfriend. My fake doctor boyfriend.” 

Smirking, Seungcheol rolls his eyes and watches you finish off your glass of wine. He hated the word fake. Was it horrible of him to hope for a time when he could remove the word fake from his and your vocabulary? Yes, he knew it was. So he just takes a deep breath and points at your wine glass. 

“More wine, fake girlfriend?” 

Your laugh is so pretty, it almost breaks Seungcheol’s heart. He watches your head tilt back and his eyes move along your neck and back up to your face as you sigh. It’s when you glance at the clock on the wall and pout that he matches the pout, knowing what you are going to say. 

“It’s so late. I should go home.” 

Two in the morning. That was much later than you had intended on staying, but the look on Seungcheol’s face made you almost reluctant to get up. You were tired, the wine was doing a great job at aiding that fact, but it didn’t lessen that pout on his handsome face. You watch as he nods, a soft sigh escaping between his lips before he takes your empty glass and stands up. 

“Thank you again for coming over. I really did enjoy it. Maybe we can do this again sometime.” 

Your eyes follow Seungcheol into the kitchen as he puts the wine glasses into the sink. When he glances over his shoulder at you, giving you a hopeful look you can’t disappoint him even if your brain is screaming about how much this is going to hurt you. 

“Absolutely.” 

“That’s all you did?” 

Groaning at Jeonghan’s tone in his question, Seungcheol pushes a plate of leftover pasta across the kitchen island towards him and Jihoon. Lifting his hands, he gives his best friend an incredulous look before stabbing at his own food with a pout on his face. 

“What did you expect him to do, Jeonghan? Jump her the first chance he gets.” 

Jihoon rolls his eyes as he shoves a fork full of pasta into his mouth, talking between bites. Out of the two men, in his own opinion, he had the most level head in this situation. He understood why Seungcheol had let you go home and why he hadn’t made a move. Jeonghan, on the other hand, stared at his friend as if he had two heads and was growing another. 

“I expect him to grow some fucking balls. You deserve some happiness, Cheol. You have this hot little teacher next door that you won’t shut up about; she comes over, and that’s—that’s it!” 

Jeonghan made it seem like he had committed a crime by respecting you and your position as his teacher. Not that the two of you had exclusively said you didn’t want to actually explore things, but it was an unspoken thing. Seungcheol wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t get through medical school on a wish and a prayer. 

“I’m helping her with her stupid douche of an ex. It would be wrong of me to actually make a move. Plus, it would be weird for Matthew.” 

Finally swallowing a bite of his food, Jeonghan scoffs around the pasta at Seungcheol’s half ass attempt at an excuse. In his mind, it didn’t make any sense and he was grasping at straws. He had seen his best friend fall for someone before and he didn’t want to see him lose that chance because he was scared. 

“Bullshit, it would be weird for Matthew. He already talks about Miss Y/N all the damn time. He likes her more than he likes me at this point. It’s offensive…” 

Chuckling, Jihoon gets a harsh side eye from Jeonghan that he matches with one of his own. 

“I think it’s hilarious and I think that you need to stop riding Cheol’s ass. If he wants to ask her out, he’ll do it. If not—” 

“He’ll die alone and pouting.” 

Dropping his fork into his plate, Seungcheol lifts his hand to push at his temples as his friends continue to talk about him as if he isn’t even in the room. Both of them had good points and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Jeonghan had some of the better ones. He knew he was being a wimp when it came to you, but he wasn’t ready to bet and lose. 

Noticing that Seungcheol had gone quiet, Jeonghan turned his attention back to him, letting out a sigh as Jihoon did the same. Neither of them liked the look on his face. They had been friends with him for over a decade and been through a majority of the highs and the lows. They had been there for the best of his life so far and the day that he thought his own had ended because hers had. 

Rubbing his thumb into his palm as he thinks about what to say next, Jihoon furrows his brows deeply. For a moment, he looks annoyed, but that’s because he is. He’s annoyed that he’s going to agree with Yoon Jeonghan for the first time in a long time. Sighing in a groan, the man leans forward and taps his fingers on the island as he tries to make his point. 

“Listen, I’m not saying I completely agree with Jeonghan—”

“But clearly, he agrees—” 

Shooting a look at the man, Jihoon watches a smirk pull up at Jeonghan’s lips as he stops talking, letting him continue. 

“But... even I can admit that something is going on in your head, Cheol. I’m not going to push you as hard as him, but don’t let it slip through your fingers because of the unknown.” 

That was what terrified him. The unknown. You could reject him completely. He could look like a fool. You could accept him and fall in love with him. Then he might lose you. There was so much unknown. The unknown had ruined his life before and only the people closest to him and his son had kept him from drowning. 

“What if it doesn’t work out?” 

Nodding, Jeonghan lifts his hands off the island and takes a deep breath, letting it out as he meets Seungcheol’s eyes to answer his question. 

“And what if it does?” 

Forcing a smile on your face after a long day, you stand up as the bell rings and parents start to move into the room to collect their children. Taking your time, you note each one, telling them to have a good evening and that you will see them in the morning. 

It wasn’t that you hadn’t enjoyed your day, but you could feel a headache behind your eyes and fifteen screaming five year olds was a lot for anyone. So as the numbers started to dwindle, you could feel the anxiety starting to fade from you. 

“Hey, buddy!” 

Glancing up as Matthew squeals happily, you watch him run towards a slender but fit man that you vaguely recognize. Perhaps he had been on Seungcheol’s walls in one of the pictures, but you didn’t have a name to put—

“Uncle Jeonghan!”

Ah, so this was Uncle Jeonghan that Matthew talked about so much. Picking up your clipboard, you furrow your brows, moving over to him and the man as you quickly make sure the man’s name is listed as someone authorized to pick up. 

“Have a good day? This must be Miss Y/N that your daddy talks about all the time.” 

Lifting your head from the clipboard, you meet the man’s eyes as your cheeks start to burn. Opening your mouth, you close it quickly as he smirks at you and ruffles the boy's head as he clings close to him. 

“I—Yoon Jeonghan? If you could just sign for Matthew, since you're not his legal guardian and only listed as an authorized person, it’s policy.” 

Taking the clipboard from you, Jeonghan grins as you seem to shy away at his words. He could see the appeal. You were beautiful and seemed responsible. You were exactly Seungcheol’s type. 

“No problem; Y/N. Cheol had to work in the ER today so here I am to save the day. I honestly don’t know why he didn’t just ask you to bring him home.” 

Scoffing in surprise, you watch as Matthew gasps and looks up at you like a new toy. 

“That’d be so cool! Miss Y/N, can you one day? I can show you my toys.” 

Not wanting to disappoint the boy, you give him a strained smile and meet Jeonghan’s eyes, realizing he was an enabler. Seungcheol should have warned you about him, but maybe he didn’t even realize how your first meeting with him would go. 

“Maybe… I’m your teacher, Matthew. We play at school—” 

“Well and his neighbor and his daddy’s girl—” 

Shaking your head, you watch as Jeonghan bites his lip to stifle a laugh before nodding and holding up his free hand as a way of surrendering. Apparently Seungcheol had shared some details of your “relationship” with his friend. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out, but you had a feeling this man was the type to pull you out and back into the spotlight. 

“Maybe one day, Matthew... but let’s not get our hopes up.” 

Pouting up at you, Matthew just nods and moves away from you both to go get his things. Letting out a breath, you take back your clipboard and put it down on a shelf behind you as you and Jeonghan glance towards the small boy as he pulls on his jacket. 

“He’d let you take him home.” 

Furrowing your brows, you glance over at Jeonghan and shift on your feet at his words and the implication behind them. Noticing how you seem to nervously shift from foot to foot, Jeonghan smirks and glances down at his phone in his hand, answering a text from Seungcheol as he speaks to you. 

“One day he’ll man up and ask you out for real. This fake dating shit—” 

“Don’t curse in my classroom, please.” 

A laugh slips from between his lips as he glances up from his phone to offer you an apologetic smile before nodding and continuing. 

“Sure, sorry. As I was saying, this fake dating nonsense you two have going on right now isn't going to work. I can already tell you like him.” 

Insufferable. That's how you’d describe Yoon Jeonghan. You had known him for less than ten minutes and already you knew he was going to be an issue in your life. Crossing your arms, you start to sigh into your words, a dramatic big breath, when Alex’s voice once again ruins your moment. 

“Matt, buddy, let me help.” 

Jeonghan watches as your head moves like prey sensing a predator towards the other teacher, who was now helping Matthew with his bag. His eyes move to his godson’s face as he grimaces as the man tugs on the straps, keeping them tight on his arms. 

“He’s fine, Mr. Alex. Thank you.” 

You still sounded like yourself, with that sweet tone to your voice, but even Jeonghan could hear the hint of malice behind it. So this was Alex, and now Alex thought it was okay to mess with Seungcheol’s son. The “fake” dating made sense. This man did not understand boundaries and used everything in front of him as an open door. 

Stepping in front of Alex, you smile at Matthew and the smile transfers to the boy’s face. Jeonghan feels relief wash over him at the sight as you kneel down, adjust the straps back to where they were and then tie his shoe properly. 

“I was just helping out a student, Miss Y/N.” 

Oof… There was so much tension in this room that even Jeonghan felt like he was going to drown in it. Stepping forward, he clears his throat and offers his hand towards Matthew, letting him take his fingers. 

“And while I’m sure she appreciates that, and the parents do... I don’t know you, Mr. Alex, was it? From where I was standing, some strange man was touching my godson, which honestly made me nervous for a moment. I’d be more careful; this isn’t your classroom.” 

Standing up, you feel your cheeks burn under Alex’s eyes as he looks to you to defend him, but you don’t. Jeonghan had a point. Not every parent or guardian knew who all the teachers were, not even the students knew the other teachers. Simple acts could be misunderstood and while he was doing something to “be nice” and it was innocent, you knew there was another reason he was inserting himself into your and Matthew’s lives. 

“Well, I do apologize for the misunderstanding. My classroom is right down the hall. I was just coming to see Miss Y/N. We are very close.” 

Jeonghan just smirks at the man and shoots you a glance before looking at his phone and seeing a reply from Seungcheol. 

“I’m sure you are.” Dismissing the man, he looks at you and smiles brightly. “Y/N, dear… Cheol asked me if you wouldn’t mind helping me with Matthew once you get home? I’m an awful cook.” 

Opening his mouth to say something, Alex stops when Matthew squeals with delight and grabs at your shirt, begging you to come over. 

Another point to you and Seungcheol. 

Staring at Seungcheol’s apartment door, you listen to the sound of Matthew’s laughter. While you knew why you had agreed to Jeonghan’s ridiculous plan, you weren’t sure why you were attempting to follow through with it. You could so easily just text Seungcheol and tell him that your evening got far too busy, and you wouldn’t be able to help Jeonghan out with Matthew, but suddenly it felt important to you. 

Jeonghan had been doing a good job, for the most part, at keeping Matthew distracted from asking when you were going to come over, but every few minutes the question kept coming up. He knew there was a slight chance you might bail on them, but he had a good feeling you wouldn’t, so he simply told Matthew, “she’ll be here soon,” each time he asked. So when you knocked on the door, a little after 6:30, Matthew squealed in delight and beat Jeonghan to it by a mile. 

“Miss Y/N! I’m so excited. I have coloring pages and my trucks to show you. Can we paint?” 

Shaking your head, you run your fingers over Matthew’s head with a sigh as you listen to Jeonghan chuckle under his breath a few feet away. It was clear to see that the little boy had you wrapped around his little finger. You weren’t supposed to have a favorite student, and maybe that wasn’t even what was happening here, but you adored Matthew. Him and his gummy smile. 

“Maybe? I’m supposed to help with dinner. What did your Uncle Jeonghan have in mind?” 

Giving you a once over in your more casual clothes, Jeonghan nods in approval before gesturing towards the kitchen as if you didn’t already know where it was. 

“Luckily for me, Cheol is a great father. He left a note that says, 'stuff for pizza in the fridge’, so it looks like it’s pizza, Teach.” 

Rolling your eyes, you let Matthew hold on to your waist as you make your way into the kitchen and glance at the note in question. 

“And you can’t make pizza on your own?” 

“Uncle Jeonghan burneded my chicken nuggets last week. Can you make me pizza, Miss Y/N?” 

Letting out a breath, you meet Matthew’s eyes before looking back up at Jeonghan, who grimaces at the mention of the chicken nuggets. Maybe it was a good thing that you were here if this man couldn’t even be trusted with the most simple of foods. 

It didn’t take long for the three of you to get into a comfortable rhythm. You quickly took over things in the kitchen, leaving Jeonghan to entertain Matthew, which in turn kept him from being under your feet. It wasn’t until you were putting the homemade pizza into the oven that the evening started to calm down and you were able to really look around you and feel your heart tightening. You wanted this. Not with Jeonghan, though he was starting to grow on you as a friend, but you wanted to be around Matthew more and to help with him. 

Feeling your cell phone vibrate in your back pocket, you wipe your hands off on a dish towel and slip it from your pocket only for a smile to pull at the corner of your lips. 

Seungcheol: I owe you big time 

Glancing towards the living room, you press your lips together watching Matthew and Jeonghan sitting at the coffee table with crayons covering most of the surface. Now that feeling of wanting this more often was even stronger as you thought about Seungcheol, wishing he was here… even though that felt wrong on some level. You shouldn’t want something with a parent of one of your students… there had to be something wrong about that, or at least Alex was good at making you feel like there was. 

Y/N: Don’t say that yet. Pizza isn’t out of the oven yet. I might burn it just as bad as Jeonghan.

Grinning as he leans against the wall of the break room, Seungcheol allows himself a moment to just enjoy the idea of you in his apartment. He knew he would be there in a few more hours, but picturing you with Matthew seemed so domestic. Jeonghan was right, as much as Seungcheol hated to admit it… he wanted more with you than some fake relationship. 

“What are you smiling at like that? It’s creepy…” 

Scoffing at Joshua Hong’s teasing words, Seungcheol quickly replies to you before clearing his throat and sliding his phone back into his coat pocket. He had never been good at “acting casual,” and most of his friends knew that, so this time was no different. 

“Nothing, why are you? You know, being nosy? Don’t you have a patient in Five?” 

Joshua smirks as he watches Seungcheol scratch his neck. He could see that his friend was nervous and that, paired with the stupid, love-sick smile he had been wearing, could only mean one thing. 

“I just discharged that patient. Are you simping that hard over some girl? Choi Seungcheol, are you fucking someon–” 

Lifting his hands, Seungcheol is quick to let out a panicked sound in order to stop Joshua from continuing. It was bad enough that he had to deal with Jeonghan on almost a daily basis. Dealing with both Jeonghan and Joshua, now that was a nightmare. 

“Shut up. I—no. No, I’m not fuck—I’m not sleeping with anyone. You spend too much time with Jeonghan if you are talking like that.” 

Joshua had never known Seungcheol to be so proper and flustered before, and honestly, it was pretty amusing to see him sweat over something as simple as a girl. 

“Hannie and I enjoy our quality time; thank you very much. Get the stick out of your ass and tell me what’s going on, or I’ll just have to ask him. I’m sure he knows.” 

The idea of Jeonghan being able to explain his love life, or the lack thereof, to anyone but especially to Joshua was a terrifying and humiliating thought. Shaking his head, Seungcheol groans and reaches for Joshua’s arm, stopping him from leaving the break room as he glances towards the clock to see how much time he has left on his break before he explains from the beginning. 

Seungcheol: Well burnt or not, can’t wait to get home and have a slice. See you in about an hour?

You had stared at your phone and Seungcheol’s text for a bit longer than you had meant to. When Jeonghan pursed his lips and glanced over your shoulder to see what had your attention so enraptured, you gasped, pulling the phone to your chest. 

“Sorry, I said your name a couple times, but you were staring at your phone like it was a bomb. I had to make sure you didn’t need help with it.” 

Furrowing your brows, you clear your throat and put your phone face down on the counter, turning towards the oven and leaning to glance at the pizza through the window. You were avoiding the topic, but Jeonghan wasn’t the one to just give up. 

“You set a timer, didn’t you? Should come out right in time for us to eat. You know, Matthew, me, you, and Cheol.” 

Glancing over your shoulder, you narrow your eyes at Jeonghan and straighten to your full height so that you feel a bit less small in front of him. 

“I wasn’t going to stay for dinner.” 

Tilting his head, Jeonghan starts to speak when Matthew whines and the sound of his little feet hitting the wood floor draws your attention. You get ready to explain to him that you need to go, that you have so much you have to do before bedtime, but one look down at him and the pout on his face... all excuses die on your tongue. 

“Please don’t go! Eat pizza with me. You said maybe to playing with trucks.” 

You watch as tears start to gather in Matthew’s eyes and it almost breaks your heart. Even Jeonghan feels a pang of guilt knowing he had pushed a little too hard, and he finds himself hoping you’ll stay as he looks at Matthew, his small shoulders lifting to take a breath, trying to keep himself from crying. 

Squatting in front of Matthew, you run your fingers over his cheeks and offer him a smile, happy to see his lips pull up even slightly in return. It was easier to say no at school. You knew you had authority and there was more to say no to. Children would get into trouble more often if you gave in, but here, what would you lose if you said yes? What harm could it really cause? 

“I—I’ll stay for dinner. I made really good pizza. I would hate to miss out on it or your trucks.” 

Wrapping his arms around your neck, Matthew grins as he giggles. He had known a lot of sadness in his short life, but his father and those around him had worked hard to show him even more joy. This was more joy. There was something special about you, and it wasn’t just that you were his teacher or that he liked you so much; it was more that you felt so warm and made him wonder what his mommy would have been like. Not that he would tell you that, at least not tonight. 

Patting Matthew’s back, you glance up at Jeonghan as he purses his lips, the look on his face a mixture of apologetic and appreciative. It takes a moment before you are finally able to pull away from the boy and meet his eyes, seeing a bit of wetness on his cheeks, but that big smile on his face remains even as you wipe the tears away. 

“The pizza has to cook for a bit longer. Wanna show me what you and Uncle Jeonghan were working on?” 

Letting out a deep breath as he walks through the door, Seungcheol finds the stress of his day quickly replaced by fondness. He knew you had decided to stay for dinner, but seeing you in his living room with Matthew for himself was a different story. Now he couldn’t help the smile that played on his lips even as Jeonghan watched him carefully, studying him for what seemed like a full minute before Seungcheol finally moved further into the house. 

“Thought you were going to stand in the hall all damn night.” 

Scoffing at Jeonghan’s words, Seungcheol shakes his head before meeting your eyes trying not to lose himself in your soft smile. You are so beautiful and it was becoming impossible for him to pretend like he didn’t like you, and that he didn’t want to see what this could be without some silly stipulations to your relationship. 

“How’s the evening been so far? Don’t I get a hug?” 

While his words were meant for Matthew, you still pressed your lips together feeling a slight urge to stand up and move into Seungcheol’s arms too. He looked incredible, even as tired as he was. You were having a hard time not staring at him, and Jeonghan was taking notes. 

“I think the uh—the pizza is cool enough to eat. So you have good timing.” 

Nodding to your words, Seungcheol squats down to hug Matthew. You watch fondly as he rocks the small boy back and forth a few times, causing him to let out a delighted sound before Seungcheol stands and runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Awesome, thank you again for helping, Y/N. I’ll… uh get changed and meet you guys at the table.” 

Swallowing hard, you nod as your eyes follow Seungcheol through the room until he is out of your line of sight. A small chuckle to your right pulls your attention back to the present and to Jeonghan, who simply lifts his brows and pats Matthew’s back, ushering him towards the dining room. 

“Pizza time, buddy. Too much ogling is going on in this room for my stomach to handle.”

Looking up at Jeonghan, Matthew tilts his head as he walks beside him, a look of confusion on his cute face. 

“What’s ohgling?” 

With a groan, you drop your head into your hands for a split second before moving to your feet and following along with the two just in time to hear Jeonghan explain how to say the word properly and that it means to look at someone for a long time because you like them. At least he had kept it PG.

“Can Miss Y/N tuck me in tonight?”

Matthew’s words make you stop what you are doing mid-bite. Jeonghan’s smirk only grows as Seungcheol tilts his head, looking at his son and over to you as you give both of them a deer stuck in headlights look. The evening had gotten exponentially more interesting since Seungcheol had gotten home. You two weren’t fooling anyone, at least as far as Jeonghan was concerned, and this was the cherry on top. 

“I–well… That’s up to Miss Y/N.” 

Meeting your eyes, Seungcheol looks a bit worried that you might say no. He wouldn’t fault you if you did, but he hated the idea of his son being disappointed. You could see the look and it was so very similar to the look in Matthew’s eye that your stomach was in your throat. Why were these two so impossible for you to refuse? 

“I don’t mind.” 

Clapping his hands together, Jeonghan gives you both a wide smile before pushing his chair back from the table and wiping at his lips. 

“Great, now that’s settled, means I can get headed home. Thank you for the lovely dinner, Y/N. Please invite me again.” 

Following Jeonghan, Seungcheol gives you an apologetic look as you start to speak but can’t seem to find the right words to defend yourself. While you had grown used to his teasing over the past few hours, it didn’t make it any easier to handle in front of Seungcheol and Matthew. You could feel heat rising in your neck and face as you turned your attention back towards Matthew as he grabbed your hand and tried to tug you out of your seat. 

“Come on! I gotta show you my room and my trucks. Daddy says they are the most coolest.” 

You were lucky to have such a sweet distraction, just two of your fingers in his small hand as Matthew led you down the hall and away from the embarrassment of Yoon Jeonghan’s words. After watching you and Matthew for a moment, Seungcheol then glances back at his best friend as he slips his shoes on and offers him a triumphant smile. In his mind, clearly, he had managed to play matchmaker well if you were staying longer than he was. He could almost hear the wedding bells in the back of his mind, but the look on Seungcheol’s face was one of doubt, which always leads to delays. 

“You’re welcome. Get that stupid look off your face and seal the deal.” 

Scoffing, Seungcheol double checks that you can’t hear either of them before he meets Jeonghan’s eyes once more. 

“Would you shut the hell up? I–we don’t know what’s going to happen. She was doing me a favor because you trapped her in a moment—” 

“No, she came over because she wanted to. She could have canceled and she could have left hours ago, Cheol. She wants to be here and she wants to be here with you. You weren’t here to see her schoolgirl crush smiling at her phone every time you sent a message.” 

Pressing his lips together while learning about the couple of hours before he had gotten home, Seungcheol couldn't stop how the corners of his lips started to turn up. He wanted to see that smile. He loved your smile. He loved how you made Matthew smile. God, he was falling for you and it was that hard sort of falling that people warned you about. 

“Really?” 

Shaking his head, Jeonghan reaches over to pat Seungcheol’s bicep as he rolls his eyes at his friend’s reaction. You were the school girl and here was your school boy. It was a match made in heaven, and it was nauseating to be around. 

“Really, Casanova. Don’t let her slip through your fingers because you’re a pussy.” 

Seungcheol groans, his smile falling at Jeonghan’s wording. Why did he have to be so crass? No, he wasn’t some church going perfect angel himself, but at least he didn’t go around calling people a pussy. 

“Get out, seriously. If Matthew starts saying shit like that, I’m personally making you pay for his therapy sessions.” 

Getting one last cheeky grin from Jeonghan, Seungcheol closes the door and makes his way back towards your soft voice. It was getting late and being a school night, it was around the time he would normally get Matthew ready for bed. He almost hated the idea of that tonight. He knew that Matthew wanted you to tuck him in, but what would that mean afterwards? Would you have leave right way? Could he talk you into staying for a glass of wine? It was a school night for you too…

“No, that truck was my favorite too. Get your teeth in the back too.” 

Surprised to hear you and Matthew in the bathroom, Seungcheol tilts his head and leans against the wall, watching you smile at his son. It was surreal to see something like this. He had always wanted this for Matthew—and, if he could be selfish, for himself. 

This wasn’t something he had gotten much of from his wife before her accident. She didn’t get to help him put Matthew to bed once he was old enough to remember her. While Seungcheol would always regret that, he found himself allowing himself a bit of time to relish Matthew’s little piece of normality with you. 

“Good! Big smile.” 

You laugh, your heart full and warm, as Matthew shows you his clean teeth. This was dangerous. You were so in love with this family. You could see yourself doing this every single night and never getting tired of it. There was something about Matthew and Seungcheol that made your life feel complete and that was terrifying in ways that you couldn’t even explain to yourself. 

“One of my favorite smiles. Time to change? Then I can come tuck you in.” 

Turning to follow Matthew, you stop short, seeing Seungcheol watching you from the hall. You get hit with a sudden rush of anxiety, wondering if you have overstepped, but the smile and look on his face tell you that you haven’t. You watch his fingers glide through Matthew’s hair before he glances back at him, telling him not to bring trucks into his bed, before he looks at you and takes your breath away with a smile. 

“You’re a natural.” 

Shyly, you shake your head and move towards him and Matthew’s bedroom, stopping just outside to give the boy time to change. 

“Just teacher things, I guess.” 

Seungcheol shakes his head and fights his urge to reach out and pull you towards him. You were standing too far away from him and with how he was feeling, all he wanted to do was pull you into his arms and do exactly what Jeonghan had told him to do. Why was he dancing around this? You were everything he had been wanting and not even the fear of the unknown was enough to keep him from taking that leap. 

Starting to speak, Seungcheol watches you take a deep breath when Matthew’s small voice makes him stop before he even gets started. You instead watch as he smiles and rubs the back of his neck, gesturing for you to go ahead. Biting at your lip, you nod and give him a small glance as you pass by, only for your breath to get caught in your throat when Seungcheol’s fingers trail over your fingers just before you cross over the threshold into the bedroom. 

“Go ahead; I’ll say goodnight once he’s tucked in. Something tells me he might get upset if I try to interrupt.” 

One last look towards Seungcheol, and you move into Matthew’s room and sit on the side of his bed as he grins up at you. Your stomach was doing flips as butterflies held a rave inside of you, but with a deep breath, you managed to keep your cool and tuck the covers around Matthew. 

“How’s that? Too tight?” 

Shaking his head, Matthew wiggles under the covers to show you that he can still move easily as you run your fingers over the top of his head, feeling his eyes move over your face. 

“Okay, good. Sleep well and I’ll see you at school in the morning.” 

“Mmkay, Miss Y/N.” 

You smile at his tired words, starting to stand when Matthew whines and you stay right where you are, giving him a concerned look at the sudden change. 

“Can I have a hug for bedtime?” 

You knew you would say no. Sure, it would make Matthew sad and, in turn, make you sad, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much as what you chose to do. Instead of saying no, you nodded and leaned down to let him wrap his arms around your neck and hold you close to him as he whispered his thanks for the day and told you goodnight. You could feel the tears rising in your eyes even as you willed them to stay back. 

“It’s my pleasure, Matthew. Tha–thank you for hanging out with me. Sleep tight…” 

Seungcheol had to take a deep breath while watching his son cling to you like a safety net. It almost broke his heart to watch you sit up, but then you ran your fingers over Matthew’s face and whispered goodnight and Seungcheol could have sworn he saw tears in your eyes. Was that a good sign or a bad one? 

Sliding past Seungcheol, you sniff softly but smile at him as you let him move into the room. You find yourself wanting to watch as he finishes up the bedtime routine, but your heart won’t let you. The tears on your cheeks tell you that you need to run out of this apartment as fast as you can, but you wait, feeling the need to say your goodbyes to Seungcheol. 

The soft click of the door shutting draws your attention back towards Matthew’s room and Seungcheol as you wipe your cheeks quickly and put your smile back on your face. You didn’t hate what you were feeling; it just terrified you to no end. You had never pictured a family with Alex; no matter how many times he had brought up what a fantastic mother you were going to be to his children, it wasn’t something that you could see. Looking at Seungcheol, you could picture that future and you weren’t even in a real relationship with him. What did that say about you?

“Hey, thanks for doing that. He’s already out like a light. I never get him down that easy.”

You only manage to hum into a small smile at Seungcheol’s words as he moves closer to you,  his presence making it harder for you to choose if you want to stay or run. 

“It’s no biggie. He’s a great kid.” 

Nodding, Seungcheol opens and closes his hand a few times before taking the leap and reaching out to wrap his fingers around yours, feeling your hand shake in his. Maybe you were just as nervous as he was? Maybe you could already see where this was going? Maybe, just maybe, you wanted it too. 

“He is… But, um, could I say something? Not about Matthew and you hear me out?” 

Those butterflies had taken something strong at their rave and you felt like you were going to be sick with nerves. Your head was woozy even as you nodded to answer Seungcheol, unable to find the right words. Swallowing hard, he sighs into a small laugh before reaching up to scratch at his brow with his free hand, keeping yours in his other. 

“I–okay, I’m just gonna say it, alright? I love having you around. I really like this, you know? Us. So I was thinkin’ if you aren’t busy, maybe we could get dinner this weekend? Just the two of us?” 

Letting out a breath, you pull your fingers back and smile at Seungcheol, trying to think straight, but nothing in your head makes sense. You were panicking. The look on Seungcheol’s face told you that he could see you were panicking as you took a step back from him and literally looked for your escape route. 

“It is so late. I have work in the morning, but you know that. Thank you so much for dinner. I mean, you know what I mean.”

Following you, Seungcheol runs his fingers through his hair, feeling panic start to roll through him as you pretend that he hadn’t just confessed to you and asked you out. Was he that bad of a choice? Or was this about something else? Were you afraid too?

“Y/N? What? Wait, no, I know you have work. Shit… wait. I didn’t mean to—” 

Turning to face him as you reach the door, you can’t stop the tears that run down your cheeks. The same tears seem to resonate with Seungcheol and stop him from giving you his reasoning. All he finds himself wanting to do is hold you and make it better, but that fear of pushing you away is stronger than ever as you wipe at your cheeks and apologize under your breath, pulling your shoes on. 

“I will talk to you later, okay? Just… I can’t do this right now.” 

Seungcheol knew he should say something else, do something to stop you from leaving until more was said and understood, but all he could do was watch as his door shut and leave him in silence. His heart beating hard in his chest, the pang of rejection and confusion rips through Seungcheol as he turns away from where you had been standing and moves to the couch to sit down and rest his head in his hands. 

Inside your apartment, you let your tears fall freely. You didn’t want to disappoint Seungcheol, but the first thing you saw when he said those words to you was Matthew’s disappointed face. That’s the face you would have to see if the relationship didn’t work out. That's who you’d be hurting. It wouldn’t just be your heart or even Seungcheol’s heart on the line; it would be that child’s heart. 

So now you sat on your kitchen floor, your heart feeling shattered as you forced yourself to stick to what you had decided instead of running back over to Seungcheol’s apartment and telling him that you felt the same way. Sometimes people don’t get what they want just because they want it. Sometimes they have to give up what they want for the benefit of others.

Seungcheol was nervous as he stood in the doorway to your classroom. He knew he was early and that Matthew wasn’t particularly happy with him because he would be the first student at school, but he needed to talk to you. The way things had ended the night before was eating at him. 

Ushering Matthew into the room, Seungcheol watches as his son runs over to you. He feels his heart tighten as small arms wrap around your waist and he wants to do the same thing. The confusion and surprise on your face are enough to make the thoughts move from Seungcheol’s mind as he smiles at you and lifts Matthew’s bag, walking towards the cubbies. 

“You—you’re early. The others won’t be here for probably half an hour.” 

Wincing at your words as he hangs Matthew’s bag up, Seungcheol considers lying. He thinks about telling you that he just has to get to work early—that’s the only reason he’s bringing Matthew in so early—but the look in your eye tells him that he should just tell you the truth. 

"I—yeah, I know. I just… Could I talk to you for a second?” 

Glancing towards Matthew, you sigh as he moves away from you both towards the building block area to play. Crossing your arms, you gesture back towards the door and the cubbies to give even more space between yourself and Seungcheol from the boy so he can’t hear. 

“I’m not sure there’s a lot to talk—”

“I know… I’m sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt you, Y/N. But please? Can I just say this? I didn’t really get to finish what I wanted to say.” 

You furrow your brow, glancing down at your fingers on your forearm as you nod. This conversation was already too difficult. Seungcheol felt too close, but glancing off to the side towards Matthew as he stacks up blocks, counting them quietly under his breath, makes you take in a deep breath as you listen to what he has to say. 

“Okay, can’t we just try it? This seems to work great. I mean, at least it does to me. All I asked for was dinner. I like you, Y/N. Like, really, really like you.” 

Tilting his head as he stops walking in the hallway, Alex narrows his eyes, listening to the conversation in your classroom. He had wanted to see you before school started, before your students arrived, but clearly someone had beat him. As he listened closer to the voice of the man, he recognized it, Seungcheol, your boyfriend. Why would he need to tell you how much he liked you? 

Shaking your head, you lift your fingers to quickly wipe at your cheeks, feeling moisture under your eyes as you take a deep breath. This isn't about what you wanted or what Seungcheol wanted. That had become obvious to you last night. You couldn’t and wouldn’t risk breaking Matthew’s heart and ruining something good in his life. You couldn’t be more than his teacher. Even being his friend was putting too much pressure on him. Everything could come crashing down and it wouldn’t be you or Seungcheol who would suffer the most; it would be Matthew. 

“I shouldn’t have asked you to do this. I should have had more guts to just—” Stopping to let out an unamused laugh, you meet Seungcheol’s eyes as he gives you a confused, sad look. “I’m so sorry, Seungcheol. We need to stop this. No more pretending. It’s not good for us and it’s worse for Matthew.” 

Pretending. The word causes Seungcheol’s heart to feel like it’s breaking and it causes Alex to scoff. You had been pretending to date Seungcheol. Shaking his head, Alex smirks as he turns back towards his own classroom, running his fingers through his hair, leaving you to finish your breakup with your fake boyfriend. He could always talk to you later. 

“I—Y/N…please. Why do you think that this is going to hurt anyone? I don’t ever want to hurt you and I certainly wouldn’t hurt my son.” 

Biting at your lips, you furrow your brows and take a step back from Seungcheol as his voice cracks. You could hear other people in the halls now; this conversation had to end. 

“Have a good day, Dr. Choi.” 

With his mouth falling open in confusion and hurt, Seungcheol closes his eyes at your words before nodding. He could hear the sound of the other children in the halls too. He knew he couldn’t force you to talk about this or to come out of your shell, even if he could obviously see you were holding back something. 

You turn from him as Seungcheol moves back into the classroom to lean over Matthew, kissing him on top of the head and whispering his goodbye before glancing at you once more. Without another word, he leaves the room and you feel like you are standing in the ocean as a wave of pain washes over you. 

The day is longer than any other that you can remember. You avoid Seungcheol’s eyes as he picks up Matthew, even as the little boy grabs at your hand, asking you to come back over for dinner. When Seungcheol tells him that tonight isn’t a good night, you hold back your tears as you listen to Matthew’s small, sad voice asking why. 

That was why this wasn’t going to work. You were so good at disappointing people. That was what your degree hanging on the wall should be in. A PhD in Disappointment. 

Walking through your now empty room, you let the silence wash over you as you picked up books and toys, not hearing the door open. You don’t hear footsteps approaching you until Alex’s voice pulls you out of your haze and brings you back to reality. 

“You didn’t have to be so pathetic and pretend to have a boyfriend, babe. Seriously? I don’t need to be jealous to want you back in my life. I’ll take you back, Y/N. You don’t have to put on a brave face.” 

Alex’s words bite at your self esteem and your confidence. Keeping your back to him for a moment longer, you fight back your tears, realizing he had to have heard your conversation with Seungcheol at the beginning of the day. You want to be angry and embarrassed, but instead you are relieved. There is no longer a secret hanging over your head, no need to pretend or worry about some big reveal as the panic slowly fades from your body. 

All you are left with, once the anxiety is gone, is disgust. You try to quickly picture a time when you were in love with Alex. You try to imagine wanting a full and long life with him after hearing him say such hateful and degrading things to you, but you can’t. All you can feel is hate and pity. The pity isn’t even for yourself; instead, you feel an overwhelming pity for the man who once made you laugh before he made you cry. 

Turning to face Alex, you meet his eyes as he smirks at you, the smug look on his face looking more like a mask than something real. He wants to play the villain so badly and you could play the victim and let him have it, but instead you just sigh and nod. 

“Thank you, Alex.” 

Starting to speak, Alex looks surprised and hopeful before you lift your hand and stop him as you continue to speak. 

“Thank you for reminding me why I will never allow you in my life again. I never want to see you again. Someone who would say something like that to me... well, it should be obvious if you ever loved me why I couldn’t and wouldn’t want you near me. Please get the fuck out of my classroom and my life.” 

Your voice is even, a bit of emotion laced in it, but you aren’t hysterical like Alex had imagined or perhaps wanted. You are instead mostly calm and collected and your words stab him in the gut like the final nail in the coffin of any chance at a relationship that he had imagined. 

Taking a step backwards, Alex tries to speak—to come up with some excuse for his actions, but you were right. As he thinks back on the person that he had been and the person that he has become, guilt bites at him, making it harder to defend himself. 

You watch as he shakes his head, muttering something so low that you can’t hear it before he moves out of the room and your door shuts, leaving you once again in that empty silence. 

Closing your eyes, you are back in that ocean as waves crash over you. Tears stream down your face and you recognize the pain as heartbreak. Heartbreak from the final mourning period of a relationship and the impossibility of another. Another wave knocks you back and you let out a sob, your hand on your stomach. More loss, but mixed with relief. 

You feel the loss of a possibility for your own family. You had seen yourself with Seungcheol and Matthew, but that was possible. The relief was from letting go, or attempting to. It was also a loss of the weight that had been on your shoulders from the very moment that you had lied to Alex. 

You just wish that it had never been a lie.

Despite many pep talks from Jeonghan, Seungcheol couldn’t make himself knock on your door. He had seen you around the apartment complex during spring break, but you were avoiding him. Worst of all, you seem to be avoiding Matthew. 

He didn’t really blame you. After what you had told him, it made sense. You were scared, but so was he. He had been terrified from the moment he realized his feelings for you, but he had taken the leap and ended up falling short. 

Any other time, Seungcheol would have given up. He would have stopped looking for that person and tried to push them out of his life, so why couldn’t he do that with you? Why would he lay in bed every single night and picture you in yours, just an apartment over? Why would he look at his phone and pray that you would text him? Why couldn’t he just get some guts and text you himself? 

He had decided that after spring break, the first day of school, he would try his best. At school, it wasn’t like you couldn’t talk to him. You had to talk to parents, and you had to talk to your students. Matthew was excited about seeing you again; this would be the perfect time. It would have been perfect if, when Seungcheol had come through the door, there wasn’t a completely different person standing at the front of the classroom. 

 “Daddy…” 

The whine in Matthew’s voice almost broke Seungcheol’s heart. Running his hand over Matthew’s hair, Seungcheol offers the woman a smile and tilts his head as he walks towards her as she looks down at her clipboard. 

“Hi. Uh, Matthew Choi… I’m Seungcheol, his father.” 

Smiling at the boy and at Seungcheol, the woman finds Matthew’s name and places a check next to it before sighing. 

“So prompt, I value responsibility. Hello, I’m Mrs. Lim.” 

Shaking the woman’s hand, Seungcheol tries to keep his smile, but he knows it’s strained as he glances around the room, realizing how much of the room has changed. The posters were different. The books were in a different place. This wasn’t your classroom anymore. 

“It’s really nice to meet you. I’m so sorry, but where is Miss Y/N?”

Swallowing hard, Mrs. Lim nods at the question before putting her clipboard to her chest and taking a deep breath, knowing she would be handling this question many times today. 

“The school was supposed to send out a letter, but perhaps not everyone got them in time. Miss Y/N accepted a job in another district. I hope that I can fill her shoes here…” 

Feeling like a truck had run him over, Seungcheol just nodded as Matthew looked up at him, confused. A small hand tugs at his jacket and Seungcheol nods once again before glancing down at his son, trying to smile at him even as Matthew frowns. 

“Uh, Miss Y/N is teaching other kids, buddy.” 

“No! Daddy!” 

Hearing his son cry was one of the most painful things that Seungcheol could experience. He knew it wouldn’t be the last time, and it hadn’t been the first by a long shot, but there was so much heartbreak in his sobs. Moving to his knees in front of Matthew, Seungcheol controls his own emotions as he wipes tears away and shushes the little boy to calm him down. 

“It’s okay. Mrs. Lim seems so nice and I’m sure you two will get along.” 

Pulling back from Seungcheol, Matthew sniffs hard, talking between sobs as big tears roll down his cheeks, meeting his dad’s fingers.

“Did I make Miss Y/N mad at me?”

Shaking his head quickly, Seungcheol pulls Matthew into his arms and closes his eyes, having an even harder time keeping himself in check. He was upset with you for not telling him, but he was even more upset with the fact that you felt like you had to leave. 

“Absolutely not. Miss Y/N adores you.” 

It takes a few more minutes before Matthew is calm enough that Seungcheol feels comfortable leaving. After apologizing to Mrs. Lim for the small outburst on behalf of his son, Seungcheol moves out into the hall and leans against the wall to catch his breath. 

Running his fingers through his hair, he shakes his head and sniffs back his own tears that had threatened to fall when he hears a familiar voice. Glancing to his left, all Seungcheol sees is red. His feet moving quicker than his brain, Seungcheol pushes his forearm against Alex’s chest as the man’s back hits the wall with a dull thud. Only the sound of a gasp from another teacher is heard over Alex’s grunt before he tells the woman it’s fine. 

“It’s not fine... what the fuck did you do? What did you do that made her leave?”

Scoffing through a bit of pain, Alex meets Seungcheol’s eyes and there is pain and hurt in both. The hurt in Alex’s eyes only serves to piss off Seungcheol more as he pushes harder against the man’s body, feeling his hand grasp at his wrist. 

“I—get off me. I don’t have to tell the fake boyfriend anything.”

Leaning back only to push against Alex harder so that his head hits the wall, Seungcheol watches the man’s mouth fall open in pain as he hears the sound of the security guard moving towards them. Taking a step back, he holds up his hands, showing them he’s done before he grabs him. 

“You don’t know anything about Y/N and you don’t know a damn thing about me and her.” Pointing towards Alex as the guard puts his hand around his forearm, Seungcheol scoffs, keeping his ground. “Stay away from Y/N and if you ever touch Matthew again, I won’t need to file a report with the school. You got it?” 

Rubbing the back of his head, Alex winces and narrows his eyes at Seungcheol. It had all been grounds for him to let them drag Seungcheol out of the school until his kid was mentioned. Now Alex needed to save face. No, nothing had happened, but he had crossed the line multiple times with you and by approaching a student that wasn’t his, he had already been warned by the administration. 

“Let him go. Everything is fine. Just a misunderstanding. We are fine… We understand one another, I can promise you that.” 

Feeling the hand on his arm relax, Seungcheol scoffs at how quick Alex’s mood shifts. He was pathetic and he could understand why you wanted nothing to do with him. Giving the man one more look of contempt, Seungcheol shakes his head and moves for the main doors, letting them slam behind him. 

Rolling your head from side to side, you rub your neck as you let out a soft sigh. You were tired after a long day and a longer commute than you were used to at your new school. The students were great but they weren’t the same. The entire day, you found yourself missing your students, as you had to check name tags to remember who you were speaking to. 

It would just take some getting used to. This was the best decision. It was easier for everyone to do it this way. It didn’t matter that you looked for Matthew in the circle of children on the reading rug only to be disappointed when you couldn’t find his sweet gummy smile and his kind eyes looking back up at you. Your heart would heal. 

Taking your keys out of your purse as the elevator stops on your floor, you keep your eyes down until you are almost at your door. Seeing shoes on your welcome mat facing you makes you stop in your tracks and causes your eyes to slowly lift to meet Seungcheol’s as he rests against your door with a frown on his face. 

You had done such a good job of avoiding him and Matthew. Sure, there had been a few times you had found yourself turning on your toes and heading in the other direction, but you had done that to make things easier for everyone. Looking at Seungcheol now, making eye contact with him, you knew there was no running away. 

“Um… Hey.” 

Seungcheol had hoped for more after not talking to you for so long, but he would take what he could get. He knew he was putting you on the spot; clearly, there was no other way to get you to talk to him. 

“Hey. So, I, uh, I took Matthew to school this morning and needless to say, we were both a little shocked and—fuck, I won’t even lie, we were heartbroken when you weren’t there. You quit?” 

Taking a deep breath, you look at your keys in your hand as Seungcheol speaks. Learning that he and Matthew were hurt by your absence makes your stomach feel queasy, but you try to stand your ground and keep yourself somewhat stoic as you nod. 

“Sorry, I got an offer about an hour away and I felt that I should take it. Ya know, it’s better—”

“For who?” 

Being interrupted by Seungcheol, you meet his eyes once again and let out a breath through your nose before looking off to the side. You didn’t want to look him in the eye and try to explain—or lie about this. It was hard enough trying to convince yourself every day in the mirror. 

“For everyone, Seungcheol. I can’t work there anymore. I didn’t want to ruin things for Matthew or you. I couldn’t be around Alex anymore.” 

Stepping away from the door, taking a step towards you, Seungcheol reaches out to take your wrist into his hand, trying to get you to actually look at him. When you don’t instantly pull away, he lowers his head and leans to the right to make you meet his eyes as he speaks. The wet glaze over his eyes makes you feel like your heart is breaking all over again as your bottom lip quivers until you bite at it to force it to stop, once again forcing back any emotions that threaten to bubble to the surface. 

“Matthew isn’t happy without you, Y/N. Why in the hell would you think that he would be? He’s depressed without you at school and without you in his life. I don’t understand why you think he’d be better off without you around.” 

Sighing loudly, Seungcheol’s eyes drop to your bitten lip as you try to keep your tears back. He can see them on the rims of your eyes and he knows that you understand, even if you won’t say it. 

“My son loves you. Don’t you get that? I lov—fuck… I need you in my life, Y/N. When I found out about you quitting I saw Alex and I confronted him. I told him to stay the fuck away from you, away from us.” 

Shaking your head, you pull your arm from Seungcheol’s, feeling his fingers chase after yours as he whines your name under his breath. You can hear and feel the desperation behind his voice and it makes you want to make it better, but you don’t think he even understands what he’s saying to you or what he’s done. 

“You shouldn’t have done that, Seungcheol. There’s no point. It was wrong of me to put myself into your life and into Matthew’s life. This is what I do. Don’t you get that? I disappoint people. Please let me—let me go. You don’t get it.” 

Frustration rises in Seungcheol as you speak and as he watches your tears run down your cheeks. You were the one who didn’t get it. You thought this was just pretty words and a dream but to him, it was so much more. You were so much more. 

Sliding his hand along your cheek to push away your tears, Seungcheol whispers your name as you let out a soft sob. Wanting to make you see what he feels, he cups your face in his palm and brushes his lips against yours, feeling you stiffen in his grasp for only a second before you relax. His kiss not only stuns you but it also takes your breath away. Your tears flow even more freely as Seungcheol’s fingers brush at your skin and his lips move over yours until he finally pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. 

“Do you understand now?” 

Wrapping your fingers around Seungcheol’s wrist, you sniff back tears as you lean your head back from his and shake your head. 

“It won’t work, Seungcheol.” 

Walking you towards the wall, Seungcheol shakes his head in return before leaning to kiss your cheek and tasting your tears on his lips. 

"Yes, it will. It has to. I want it to… so fucking bad, baby. You feel like my missing piece. Y/N, you’re my somebody. Let me prove it to you.”

Seungcheol cups your face with both of his hands as you push your front door closed, letting him once again walk you backwards until your back is flush against the wall. The only difference this time is that it’s your lips that meet his first. You feel his fingers slide along the side of your head as he deepens the kiss, his tongue gliding into your mouth to mesh with your tongue before he groans, feeling your fingers grasp at his sides over his t-shirt. 

This was everything Seungcheol had pictured for days, if not weeks, after being around you. He had wanted to kiss you that night when the two of you had shared wine on his couch. He had wanted to ask you to stay the night after dinner so that he could make love to you, and now he had you in his hands. 

Sliding one hand along your neck, Seungcheol breaks the kiss long enough to meet your eyes, checking for any hesitation as his other hand moves to your hips and tugs them flush with his own. The only look in your eyes is one of desperation and desire. He wasn’t the only one who had wanted this, he had just been better at admitting it to himself than you had. Now that it was real and in front of you, your brain was in a frenzy. 

“You’re so beautiful—so fucking beautiful. Wanted this… God, I’ve wanted it since I laid eyes on you. Wanna make you mine.” 

Seungcheol’s hand moves back to your face, resting on your jaw so that his thumb can brush over your bottom lip, tugging it down as you whimper. There truly was nothing better than this. No art in any museum could compare to you. No artist would ever capture that look in your eyes, the bitten look of your lips, or the desire that was burning in you for Seungcheol. 

“Please? Please, Cheol…” 

Nodding, Seungcheol groans under his breath as you beg him to do what he wants. Glancing away from you, he gestures towards the hall in hopes that his guess of the layout of your apartment wasn’t too far off. 

“Yeah, second door.” 

Smiling at your pretty voice, Seungcheol leans down to capture your lips once again as his hands move from your face and hips to wrap around your thighs right under your ass. Feeling your arms wrap around his neck in surprise, he grins on your lips and lifts you with little effort, even as you gasp. 

“Seungcheol, oh my god, I can walk.” 

Clinging to Seungcheol, you watch as he shakes his head, walking you towards your bedroom. His strong hands are under you, holding you close to his body with each step. 

“What’s the fun in that, baby? Let me have this, okay?” 

Stepping into your room, Seungcheol only glances around for a second before his lips are back on yours and he takes another step towards your bed, only to sit down, allowing you to rest on his lap. Your cheeks were hot with how flustered you felt, not only about being carried to your room but about how you could already feel Seungcheol’s cock between your legs. Letting out a shaky breath on his lips, you hold onto Seungcheol’s shoulders as you give into your desire and rest your knees on either side of his legs. Rolling your hips over the bulge in his jeans and earning you a deep groan from his throat, Seungcheol leans his head back and presses his fingers into the swell of your ass through your pants. 

“Shit… that—that feels so good. It’s been a long time for me, Y/N.” 

Nodding, you slide your fingers from Seungcheol’s shoulder along his neck and up to his face to tilt it back towards you so you can meet his eyes as you roll your hips over him once again. You feel your own arousal beginning to soak through your panties, causing them to stick to your folds, a soft whine slipping from between your lips as your brows furrow. 

“That’s okay. It’s been a while for me too, Cheol.” 

It might be selfish of him, but Seungcheol thinks at that moment that if he had his way, he might be your last. He would be all you’d ever need. You’d never want to look for anyone else. All he needed to do was prove that to you. 

Smiling into a soft groan, he groans as his brows furrow, feeling your fingernails press into his shoulders over his shirt. Seungcheol leans his head back and your lips against his throat has his eyes closing and his fingers tightening on your hips, pulling you down over his lap. Sliding his hands upwards, Seungcheol whispers your name as your lips move along his jaw and his head almost becomes cloudy with thoughts of putting your back on the bed and having his way with you. 

“Y/N… fuck. I need to see you. Can I? Can I see you?” 

Nodding, you lean back from him, letting his fingers work up your sides, pushing your shirt up as he goes. Brown eyes take in every new inch of skin exposed to him as Seungcheol furrows his brows and whispers out soft praises for you. He tells you how beautiful you are, how perfect you are, and how much he cares about you, all before pulling your shirt up and over your head and tossing it behind you into the floor. 

Your cheeks burn at his attention as Seungcheol smiles at you, his fingers once again on your body. You can’t help the way that you gasp and shift in his lap as his fingers walk along your flesh, leaving goosebumps behind his path. 

Shifting your shoulders forward, you feel your bra straps fall down your arms when Seungcheol’s fingers work the clasps open at the middle of your back. The garment gives way and you feel warm breath fanning across your skin before soft plush kisses move from your shoulder to the center of your chest. 

Letting your bra fall into your lap, you slide your fingers into Seungcheol’s hair as his name slips from between your lips like a prayer or a hymn. You didn’t have much doubt that he would have been good at this, but it was still surprising at how much attention he was giving you and how he was taking his time—even if you wanted more and more quickly. 

Tugging at his hair, you whine almost in frustration as you feel his lips brush over your nipple, only for Seungcheol to pull away and place a kiss in the same place on your other breast. You were so aroused—so wet—that you felt like you could cum untouched on his lap, but every single teasing touch kept you right on the edge. 

“Cheol… please? I need more… Give me more.” 

He wanted to give you more. He wanted to see more, but tasting your skin was like tasting sugar for the first time. The salt in your skin was addictive. The smell of your body wash, the perfume that you used... even the laundry detergent that you chose was like the perfect mix to keep him dazed. It’s only your voice that brings him back to the present and reminds him what he’s supposed to do. 

Standing with you secure in his arms, Seungcheol quickly turns to lay you on your bed so he can hover over you. The feeling is instantly different. You had known that he was a large man and that he worked hard in the gym, but having him on top of you like this made it even more obvious how small you were compared to him. 

Letting his eyes move over your face for a moment as your eyes widen, Seungcheol smirks slightly, trailing his fingers along your stomach to the clasp of your jeans. Working them open, he watches you bite your bottom lip and all he can think is how he wants to do that for you, how he’d do anything for you if you asked him to. It could be in this bed or the most simple domestic task and he would make it happen. 

When Seungcheol’s palm presses to your abdomen and his fingers work their way into your jeans past your panties, you can’t help the small, surprised gasp that escapes from behind your lips. Your hips lift and Seungcheol’s middle finger barely presses between your folds, brushing over your clit, and it’s almost enough to make you want to scream his name. 

You didn’t remember being this easy to please, but perhaps it wasn’t even that… no, perhaps it was Seungcheol touching you. Maybe it was his fingers sliding against your wet folds and parting them so that he can circle your entrance with that same middle finger. It was because this time you were with the man you had spent hours trying to avoid picturing spending your life with and now he was groaning your name, feeling your slick arousal coating his fingers for the first time. 

“Baby, oh my god, Y/N.” Seungcheol feels his mouth water as he feels his fingers slipping through your soft, wet folds. He just shakes his head as he tries to angle his hand in your tight jeans to press his finger into you, only to whine in frustration when he can’t. “Gotta get these off. Wanna taste you… gotta open you up, baby girl.” 

Smiling as you run your fingers through Seungcheol’s hair, hearing him whine, you lower your eyes to his hands as he tugs at your jeans, working them down your legs. There was this amazing juxtaposition when it came to him. You had just felt so small under him and now you were listening to him whine and talk with a pout on his lips as he tried to pull your pants off while still talking to you with such a dirty mouth. 

Grinning to himself as he drops your jeans on the floor next to the bed, Seungcheol glances up at you before he wraps his arms under your thighs and scoots you up in the bed suddenly. Gasping his name, you grab at his shirt out of surprise, feeling it pull up his body as he meets your eyes again with a raised brow. 

“Can’t have you falling off the bed. Do you want my shirt? You can have it, sweetheart.” 

Your eyes follow Seungcheol’s hand as he reaches over his shoulder to tug at his shirt, pulling it up over his head with one swift movement. There were many ways to remove a shirt but that had to be the sexiest way you had ever seen. Trying to push your thighs together, you find you can’t as Seungcheol’s knee rests between them, drawing his eyes down to your legs as he hands you his shirt. 

“Fuck… look at you.” 

Hissing out a moan, you clench your fingers around Seungcheol’s shirt and lift your hips when he pushes his thumb against the center of your panties, where the cloth was sticking to your skin. This wasn’t what you meant by giving you more, but any complaints can’t make it out of your mouth as Seungcheol smirks at you, one hand resting on the bed next to your hip and the other staying between your legs. 

Brushing his knuckles over your wet panties, he lets out a breath before pulling them to the side and letting out a deep groan at the sight. He knew you were wet. He had felt it on his fingers and it was easy to see even through your panties, but seeing your glistening skin was another thing entirely. 

“So pretty… you’re so wet, baby girl. Is it uncomfortable?” 

Nodding, you close your eyes tightly, feeling tears threatening to spill over the rims of your eyes from just anticipation. 

“Yes, Cheol…” 

A soft, sweet, faux cooing sound slips from his lips before Seungcheol lowers himself down between your legs to run his tongue over your soft folds. Grunting to the taste, he furrows his brows and wraps his fingers around your panties tighter, keeping them to the side as he wraps his free arm around your hip, tugging you closer to his mouth. One simple taste wasn’t nearly enough, it was only enough to make him feel feral with desire for you and for him to want to bury his face between your legs for the rest of his life. 

Bringing Seungcheol’s shirt up to your mouth, you bite down on the cotton to muffle your moans. Your eyes close tightly, tears running from your eyes and towards your hairline as Seungcheol’s lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks hard and groans, sending a vibration through your body. You feel yourself clench around nothing until he runs his tongue along your folds, massaging them, pulling them into his mouth and finally pressing his tongue into your needy hole. 

“Seungcheol!” 

The shirt falls from your lips as you scream his name, feeling the pressure that has been building in your abdomen and threatening to overflow. Seungcheol’s lips pull up ever so slightly, even as he nudges his nose against your clit and fucks you with his tongue, feeling you clench around the muscle. 

He wanted you to cum for him. He needed it more than he needed water to survive the desert. You were all that made sense right now, and getting you to bliss was the answer to everything. 

Sliding his hand from around your hip, Seungcheol grunts under his breath as he leans back, face wet with your slick. Spitting on your entrance, he works two of his fingers into your velvet walls, watching you arch your back off the bed. 

“There you go, baby.” 

He could feel you clamping down around his fingers as you became impossible wetter, your cum seeping around his fingers with each deep thrust. 

“Oh my god, Cheol...”

Smiling against your inner thigh, Seungcheol glances up at you to meet your eyes as he carefully slides his fingers out of you, feeling your walls pulse around them. He wanted more, but even if you decided that you couldn’t handle more or that you didn’t want more, seeing you like that would be enough. 

Reaching out for him, you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling instantly frustrated at the feeling of his jeans against your skin. The only thing that makes it better is his soft, plush lips on yours. You try to think quickly of anything better than Choi Seungcheol’s kiss—the way he would smile against your mouth before licking into it with a groan—and nothing comes to mind. Muttering into the kiss, you drag your fingers along his sides, feeling him shiver under your hands before he leans back to look down at you with want in his eyes. 

“Off, take them off. Want—I want you. Please?” 

At first, when you say off, Seungcheol’s heart almost drops into his stomach. He thinks that you really have had enough of him for the night, but then your nails tug at the top of his jeans and a smile pulls at his pretty lips. 

“Anything you want... fuck, Y/N. I’d give you the world.” 

Sucking on your bottom lip, you feel heat rising in your cheeks and along your chest and neck at Seungcheol’s words. You had fallen deep and hard for this man and he was a romantic. You weren’t going to get out of this without a few scars or in one piece, but now you weren’t sure if you wanted to. 

Watching him closely, your eyes follow Seungcheol as he slides off the bed to push his jeans down along with his boxers, leaving him naked in front of you. Bringing your fingers up to your already bitten lips, you turn on your side and press your cheek against your arm, trying to hide your reaction, but the look on Seungcheol’s face tells you that you haven’t gotten off that easily. 

Moving back to you, he runs his hand up the length of your leg, stopping at your hip as he tilts his head to meet your eyes, his other hand pulling your fingers from your lips. Seungcheol watches as your lips fall open on a soft, breathy gasp of his name when he guides your hand to his cock. With your hand in his, he guides your palm over the head of his length before wrapping your fingers around his shaft and dragging your hand from tip to base. 

“This okay?”

Nodding quickly, you whine, feeling Seungcheol thrust his hips gently towards your hand as he lets go of yours in place of running his fingers over your head, a groan slipping from his lips. He didn’t want to get off like this, and he wouldn’t, but with how you had been looking at him—a mixture of lust and surprise—Seungcheol wanted to make sure you knew what was going inside of you. 

Your eyes stay on his face for a moment longer before they drop to your hand and Seungcheol’s cock in your hand. It wasn’t as if you couldn’t tell he was big, but feeling and seeing were different stories. It wasn’t length but girth. He was thick enough that you could already imagine the stretch and found yourself thanking him in your mind for making you cum first. 

“Sh—shit baby… I gotta stop you.” 

Putting his hand back over yours, Seungcheol licks his lips and moves your hand from his leaking cock as it twitches, almost begging you for more. He already felt so close. Just looking at you, fucking you with his tongue, and feeling you on his fingers had been enough to make him feel like he was going to cum, but now your hand on him? He was lucky he didn’t cum the second he put your fingers around his cock. 

“Fuck me, Cheol.” 

Your voice is timid and almost a whisper but Seungcheol can hear it. Furrowing his brows, he licks his lips once more before shaking his head and this time your heart sinks before he speaks and slides his hand between your legs, parting them so he can once again run his fingers through your already swollen, wet folds. 

“No… I’m not going to fuck you, baby girl.” Grinning as you start to pout and whine in protest, Seungcheol leans to kiss your lips as he pushes two fingers into you, feeling you arch off the bed. “I’m gonna make love to you. There’s a difference.” 

Gasping on his lips, you hold on to his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin as Seungcheol rocks his fingers back against your spot, feeling you clench down over them once again. When you throw your head back, cum once again coating his fingers, Seungcheol groans, leaning to press his lips to the column of your throat, feeling your swallow hard under his kiss. 

“That’s it, such a good girl. You feel good?”

Out of breath, you nod weakly as Seungcheol looks down at you, sliding his fingers out of you. 

“That’s all I want, baby…” 

Glancing around the room, Seungcheol leans his head on his arm before taking a breath and wincing a bit before asking you what he had been mildly dreading from the moment this had begun. He knew it could make or break the moment, but it was important. 

“I didn’t bring anything with me with the assumption that something like this was happening. 

Fuck, I mean, I don’t even think I have condoms at my place. Do you have anything?” 

Smiling as you bite your lips, you run your fingers over Seungcheol’s cheek before tracing his lips, feeling him press a kiss to your fingers. 

“I’m on birth control, Cheol. It’s fine.” 

Taking a deep breath against your fingers, Seungcheol nods, feeling the pressure melt away as you run your knee along his outer thigh up to his hip. He hated the idea of disappointing you after making a big promise like he had, but now the pressure was taken over by desire. It was an honor to be in your bed in the first place, but like this? His head was spinning.

Sliding his fingers along your bent leg, Seungcheol leans into your hand as you cup his cheek before he turns to kiss your palm and nods, letting you know without words what he was doing. Gasping softly at the feeling of the tip of his cock running through your folds, you close your eyes and drop your hand to his shoulder as you push your head back into the pillow. Not even imagining the stretch could actually prepare you for the real thing as Seungcheol slowly eased inside of you bit by bit. 

“Oh my god.” The words fall from your lips like a prayer, tears finding your eyes again as the painful stretch is quickly replaced with pleasure. “Seungcheol… fuck. You’re…” 

The words get caught in your throat and Seungcheol looks up at you in concern, seeing tears running from your eyes. Running his fingers over your face, he stops moving and presses his lips to yours, only to feel you shake your head and lift your hips, trying to get more of him inside of you. 

“Ah—fuck, Y/N… I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Nodding, you capture Seungcheol’s lips, kissing him between words. 

“I’m okay. Feels so good, baby. Please give me more.” 

Hearing you call him baby left Seungcheol stunned and love struck. He pauses before feeling you once again lift your hips before you wrap your legs around his waist and whine his name on his lips. 

“Okay…okay. It’s just... call me that again? Please?” 

You hadn’t even realized what you had said until he asked for you to call him the pet name again. Opening your eyes as you press your head back into the pillow, you feel Seungcheol bottom out in you, the stretch so intense that you clench around him, earning yourself a well deserved groan from his chest. 

“Baby?” 

You watch as Seungcheol nods, another groan dripping from his lips like candy for you to collect. Smiling, you can’t hold back a soft moan as Seungcheol makes a shallow thrust and you feel full and complete. You find yourself wanting to always feel like this. Warm, full, and safe. 

“I—lo—” You struggle with your words as Seungcheol thrusts deep and harder, sending your head towards the headboard. Reaching back over your head, you hold on to the side of it and hum out another moan before nodding. “Just like that, baby. I’m so close. You’re right, there’s a difference.” 

Seungcheol smiles at your words as he leans down to press a kiss on your shoulder. He was hoping you hadn’t been upset with him for telling you he was going to make love to you. There would be plenty of time for him to fuck you later—at least he hoped so. If he got his way, this would be forever. He could already picture himself buying a ring and getting down on one knee. 

Shaking his head to push that thought from his head, not wanting to scare you away, Seungcheol nips at your neck and groans, feeling himself about to burst. He had already made you cum twice, but it was important to him that you were satisfied. He would do everything he could not to cum before you. 

Tugging one of your legs loose from his waist, Seungcheol meets your eyes as he slides his hand between your bodies and finds your folds. He watches as your mouth falls open as his fingertips rub in tight circles over your clit, all while his cock is buried deep inside of you until that cord that was winding in your abdomen snaps once again. 

“Yes…yes—oh fuck!” 

Your voice was like music and had to be what angels sound like. That was all Seungcheol could think of as you came on his cock. You were so tight before, but now, as you orgasmed for the third time with him inside of you, he had seen heaven, and he wasn’t sure how he survived you. 

“Please… now you. Cheol, baby… please?” 

You begging him to cum only solidified that he had to have died and gone to heaven because there was no way for him to resist you. There was no way for him to hold back. Groaning loudly against the crook of your neck, Seungcheol cums as he feels your thighs start to shake around him. 

Running your fingers through his sweaty, damp hair, you close your eyes and focus on catching your breath as Seungcheol rests over your body. He was afraid he was too heavy, but the moment he tried to move away from you, a small whine of protest had him staying right where he was. Placing small kisses on the top of your breasts, Seungcheol then glances up at you, seeing the bliss on your face and he can’t help but smile. 

“You are so beautiful.” 

Laughing softly, you open your eyes and look down at Seungcheol before lifting your hand to hide your face. There was no way you looked remotely beautiful at the moment. You knew you were sweaty and in desperate need of a shower and yet here was the most attractive man you had ever seen in your life, telling you that you were beautiful. 

Wrapping his hand gently around your wrist, Seungcheol pulls your hand from your face and kisses the back of it before bringing your palm to his chest. You feel his heart beating hard as he too works to catch his breath. 

“I’m serious, Y/N. I am so—shit I don’t want to scare you away, but I’m afraid if I don’t, I’ll lose you again. I’m in love with you.” 

Taking a sharp breath at Seungcheol’s confession, you glance up at the ceiling to avoid having to look at his eyes. A small frown replaces his smile as he hears your heart beat quicken in panic. He hadn’t wanted you to panic, but he knew it was a risk. Carefully sliding out of you and to your side, Seungcheol lifts your hand from his chest to his lips and kisses the back of your knuckles as you bite at your lips. 

“Y/N, baby, please look at me? I wanna talk about this. I know you feel something for me or else we wouldn’t be in this bed.” 

Pushing your thighs together, feeling even more sticky and sweaty, you feel yourself becoming even more self conscious until you meet Seungcheol’s eyes and see the concerned look on his face. You didn’t want to hurt him again. You had spent so much of your life running and once you had a good thing, it bit you in the ass. So now that you had walls that he had taken a sledgehammer to, it was terrifying. 

“I—you’re right. I do feel something for you. I feel a lot of things. I’m just so fucking scared, Seungcheol. What if we mess this up? I don’t—” 

Closing your eyes, your words end on a sob as your emotions get the better of you. Moving to pull you into his arms, Seungcheol shakes his head and shushes you before kissing the side of your head, letting you continue.

“I can’t hurt Matthew. I love him so much. I know I shouldn’t. It’s not proper for a teacher to have a favorite like that.” 

Smiling against your head, Seungcheol takes a deep breath and places another kiss before shaking his head. 

“I don’t think it has anything to do with being his teacher or a teacher in general. I think—and you can tell me to shove it up my ass if I’m out of line, but I think it has to do with just love in general. You are maternal, Y/N.” 

Swallowing hard, you hold onto Seungcheol’s forearm as you think through what he has said. 

There was a part of you that did want to tell him to shove it, but a larger part that knew he wasn’t wrong. You had pictured far too often a life with them that wasn’t just being Matthew’s teacher. 

“I feel like I should apologize for that or something.” 

Leaning back to look down at you, Seungcheol moves his hand to tilt your chin up so you will look at him. Furrowing his brow, he shakes his head and the look in his eyes is the most serious you have seen in the entire night. 

“Never apologize for loving my son. He loves you too.” 

The words go straight to your heart and tears stream down your face. You picture Matthew’s sweet smile as you close your eyes and you know you have to ask about him. 

“I—okay. Can I—can I ask how he’s doing?” 

Pulling you back to his chest, Seungcheol leans against your headboard and leans his head back against it with a soft sigh. 

“He’s sad, baby. He misses you. He doesn’t like school as much, even if Mrs. Lim is a decent teacher. He asked if you didn’t like him anymore and that was why you had to teach other little kids.” 

Seungcheol knew the truth of what Matthew had been dealing with would hurt you, but it was something that you needed to know. He could have sugar coated it, but when it came to his son and how he was feeling, that was something Seungcheol would never do. He isn’t surprised when he feels your body shake against his. It breaks his heart to feel your tears against his chest as you turn in his arms to be held tighter. 

“I can’t go back to that—to that school, Cheol. I didn't…  I’m the fucking worst.” 

Shushing you, Seungcheol kisses the top of your head as tears sit on the rims of his eyes, feeling your heartbreak and his own for his son. 

“I know it wasn’t just about us. That wasn’t why you left. What’s done is done. You aren’t the worst; don’t talk about yourself like that. All we need to do is talk to Matthew about it. He will understand.” 

"Alright, listen, if your dad asks about the weekend, what are you gonna say?” 

Jeonghan lifts a brow as he looks down at Matthew on his right. The little boy’s hand in his as he smiles up at him. It had taken a lot to get that smile on his face and he was proud to see it. Between him and Joshua, a weekend of trash tv, and all the worst foods you could feed a child, he was finally seeing the Matthew he knew. 

“That Uncle Jeonghan and Uncle Shua let me watch edgeucational things only on TV.” 

Clicking his tongue as he winks at his godson, Jeonghan fishes his key for Seungcheol’s apartment out of his pocket and pushes the door open. Shifting the overnight bag on his shoulder, he doesn’t glance up until he hears Matthew gasp in surprise. The sound scares him, his eyes widening as the boy takes off, running towards the living room and drawing his eyes in that direction. 

“What! What’s wrong?” 

It’s when he sees you sitting on the couch with Seungcheol that it makes sense. He watches as Matthew wraps his arms around your neck, the sad expression on your face and tears in your eyes as you wrap your arms around the child, pulling him into your lap. 

Meeting Seungcheol’s eyes, Jeonghan lifts his brows and gets a grin back as an answer. Shaking his head, Jeonghan drops the bag from his shoulder onto the couch and lets out a low, deep sigh. It had taken long enough, but clearly things had worked out the way they were supposed to. He just wished it had happened sooner and not at the expense of Matthew’s happiness. At least he could relish in the happy look on his face now, that was making up for almost all of it. 

“Well then, I was going to see if you needed me to stay for a bit today, but clearly...” 

Rolling his eyes, Seungcheol stands up to hug Jeonghan, whispering that he will explain everything later. Glancing back to you and Matthew, he presses his lips together as you nod along with Matthew’s story about his weekend with Uncle Jeonghan and Joshua, letting him have a moment to walk Jeonghan to the door. 

“Yeah, I wanna know all the juicy details. Jihoon owes me 100 bucks.” 

Grinning as Seungcheol makes a face of disgust, Jeonghan waves at you and Matthew before walking out the door, leaving the three of you to yourself. Leaning against the wall, Seungcheol watches for a moment longer, his lip caught between his teeth as you run your fingers through Matthew’s hair lovingly while you explain the new job. 

“But, I’ll still see you all the time. I promise, okay? I just have to help other kids for the rest of the year.” 

Pouting a bit, Matthew wraps his hand around yours, pulling it into his lap before nodding. 

“Mmkay… as long as you come over all the time.” 

Smiling a bit sheepishly as he looks from you to his dad and back, Matthew kicks his legs and giggles, making you tilt your head as Seungcheol moves to the couch to sit next to you. 

“Daddy, does this mean that Miss Y/N can be my mommy now?” 

Blanching slightly, Seungcheol’s mouth falls open as he looks at you, watching your lips press together. Meeting his son’s eyes, he tries to speak before laughing and rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Uh, that’s adult business, son. I don’t know. Maybe one day. You know if Y/N will have your daddy as a husband.” 

Looking away to hide your embarrassed smile, you clear your throat as Matthew giggles once again and slides from your arms to his dad’s. 

“I think that’s a yes. All the boys on the TV show Uncle Shua liked got down on their knees and just asked. Most of the girls said yes, even though they were behind a wall!” 

His eyes widening, Seungcheol looks at you as you laugh and brings your fingers to your lips before speaking. 

“I thought you said you guys watched educational videos?” 

Looking down at his hands, realizing he had said too much, Matthew grins and shrugs. 

“I didn’t say nothing.” 

Eyes narrowing, Seungcheol presses his fingers into his son’s side, tickling him as he shakes his head. 

“I need to have a talk with your uncles about teaching you how to lie and letting you watch garbage.” 

Smiling, you watch the two people you love the most as they laugh and end up hugging when Seungcheol kisses Matthew’s cheek. You could get used to seeing this every day. 

You had thought that after you had helped Seugcheol get Matthew to bed, you might sneak back to your apartment, but then he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and pouted. That was how you ended up on his bed, his lips on your neck as you whined softly, doing your best to keep your voice down, feeling him smile against your skin. 

“Seung–Seungcheol, please. I’m trying to be quiet. I’m not sure I can do this. What if we wake up, Matthew? How do we even explain—” 

Leaning back, Seungcheol meets your eyes and purses his lips before sliding off the bed and offering you his hand. Taking a breath to calm down, you put your fingers on his and let him guide you off the bed and towards the connected ensuite. 

“We don’t have to explain anything, baby. He’s a heavy sleeper, but if you are worried.” 

Leaning against the counter of the double sink, you watch as Seungcheol leans into the glass shower to turn it on. The sound of water fills your ears and you smile as the man you had grown to adore beyond words looks back at you for praise as if he had just moved the earth for you. 

“Smart…” 

Nodding along with your words, Seungcheol moves back over to you, sliding the skirt of your sundress up your legs to your hips. 

“I mean, I am a doctor. It’s a requirement.” 

Smacking his chest, you listen to Seungcheol’s laugh and it makes you feel warm and safe. Lifting your arms, you let him quickly undress you, dropping your dress on the counter before he takes a knee and hooks his fingers into your panties, shimmying them down your legs. 

“You don’t look half bad on your knee, Dr. Choi.” 

Seungcheol lifts his brow, a smirk pulling at one side, before he leans to press a kiss to your leg, discarding your panties to the side. You run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips on your skin, chill bumps spreading under his kisses. 

“You like me on my knee? Wanna see me like this again?” 

Your cheeks burning, you bite at your lips and hide your smile as you look away from his eyes as Seungcheol looks up at you before rising to his feet once again. Turning your head back towards him, Seungcheol brushes his lips over yours as steam starts to fill the room. He could feel the warmth on your cheeks under his fingers as he ran his thumb along your cheekbone towards your hairline. 

“Hm? I asked you something, baby girl.” 

Whining his name, you take a breath as Seungcheol takes a step back to tug off his shirt and quickly get rid of his pants and boxers before offering you his hand once again. 

“You can’t ask me things like that. It’s too soon.” 

Shaking his head, Seungcheol leads you towards the shower, opening the door for you and following you inside. His eyes move along your body as the water hits your skin and you lean your head back into the stream of water with a smile on your face. Lifting his free hand, Seungcheol runs it between your breasts and down your stomach as the smile on his lips grows. 

“Too soon for what? For me to already be thinking about wanting to marry you? Shit, I was thinking about that the night we drank wine until 2 in the morning on my couch.” 

Licking water from your lips, you lift your head to look at Seungcheol as he speaks to you. His words make you feel hot and almost speechless. He had wanted you for that long? He had wanted you that way for that long. 

Meeting your eyes for a second, Seungcheol lets out a soft hum of appreciation at the dazed look on your face before his middle finger drags between your folds and your knees buckle. Quickly wrapping his arm around your waist, he groans as he turns your back towards the shower wall and lets you rest against it. 

“I’m in it for the long haul, baby. I think you know that. Is that something you’d want? Hm? What was Matthew asking earlier? To be his mommy?” 

Your lips fall open in a moan of Seungcheol’s name as you feel two of his fingers hook into you and his palm rests against your clit. Lifting your leg, you wrap one around his waist, letting him keep you upright as you try to think straight, only managing to babble incoherently. You weren’t sure how he wanted you to think clearly and come up with logical words when his fingers were so deep in you. 

“Tell me… I really wanna know. Doesn’t mean it’s gonna happen tonight, but... I won’t lie, thinking about you like that—as my wife…” You feel Seungcheol shiver as a grin pulls at his lips against your jaw. “It turns me on.” 

You knew Seungcheol was romantic and now you knew he had particular kinks. God you were in trouble. You were in trouble of being in constant pleasure if you did end up being this man's wife. Holding onto Seungcheol’s biceps, you whisper his name as his lips brush against yours before nodding and feeling him nod in return. 

“You do? Yeah? Can you say it for me? I wanna hear it. Indulge me, sweetheart.” 

Whining, you lean your head back against the shower wall as you feel yourself starting to fall over the edge. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes from pleasure as you whimper and your mouth falls open, cum slipping down Seungcheol’s fingers as you moan out the words he wants to hear. 

“I would; I would wanna be your wife, Cheol. I love you.” 

Bracing himself against the wall, palm flat against it, Seungcheol groans, feeling himself unable to hold back. It’s not everything he has to give you, but you are surprised to feel warm cum on your stomach, drawing your eyes downward. 

“Oh, my god...”

Sighing, Seungcheol laughs, a bit embarrassed, before pushing off the wall and sliding his fingers out of you. Wiping his mouth clean of water, he uses his other hand to hold your leg to his hip as before, stroking his still hard cock a couple times and lining himself up with your eager pussy. 

“I told you I liked the idea of it. I love you, too. Fuck…” 

The last word out of Seungcheol’s mouth is drawn out as he slips himself inside of you with some effort. In this position, you were even tighter than he was used to. He had taken you to bed a few times over the weekend, but never like this and you had never sucked his cock in like you were trying to milk him dry. 

Holding your hip tightly, Seungcheol meets your eyes as you let out a soft gasp, feeling his hips meet yours. At this angle, you felt like he was going to tear you apart, but you weren’t complaining. There was bad pain, and then there was this. This was that sweet, satisfying pain that led to so much pleasure that you saw stars, and you were starting to see them. 

Lips meeting yours, Seungcheol groans into the kiss as he grinds his hips against yours, finding it harder to move after a few deep thrusts when you clamp down over him and cum once again. Scratching at his wet skin, you bite down into his bottom lip before leaning back from his kiss to pant out his name when Seungcheol groans so deep it sounds like a growl. 

He had made love to you before; there had truly been a difference between that and now. The way his fingers were bruising your hips and the way his hips were slapping against yours—now he was fucking you. You knew you wouldn’t be able to tell him which way you preferred, even as you watched his mouth fall open as he cums once again, this time filling you and pushing it out with each deep thrust. 

“Holy shit, baby.” 

Furrowing your brows, you let out a soft gasp as Seungcheol slips from you and lowers your leg safely back to the floor. Keeping your back to the wall, you take a few deep breaths, feeling his fingers running along your sides as his lips press to your throat, up your jaw, and finally to your lips before you smile. 

“That was…” 

Nodding to agree with you, Seungcheol laughs against your lips before taking a step back to step under the showerhead, feeling the warm water run over his body. Opening your eyes, you can’t help the way you shyly look at him before laughing and looking away, making him grin as he reaches for his shampoo with a tilt of his head. 

“What? Are you shy now? Is this about being in the shower with me or, uh, wife talk?” 

Wrinkling your nose, you knock your head back against the shower wall before pushing off of it and towards Seungcheol. Watching him follow you with curious eyes, you sigh and lift your arms to run your fingers through his hair, spreading around the shampoo as you speak, feeling his hands running over your hips. 

“The last part. It is a little fast. but I—is it bad that I like it too? Maybe I want that? Not now!” You are quick to add on the last to your sentence, making Seungcheol laugh before he leans his head back into the water, washing out the shampoo from his hair. “Just in the future, with you?” 

Taking a breath, Seungcheol runs his fingers through his hair and then holds on to your waist, switching positions under the shower head to let you stand there as he grabs body wash to start spreading it over your body slowly. 

“Not at all. I want it... in the future.” 

Smiling brightly, Seungcheol meets your eyes as you whine, feeling overwhelmed. Leaning to kiss your nose, he sighs and spreads the soapy water along your body as he nods. 

“Did I ever tell you that if I got married again, I’d love to have my honeymoon in Barcelona?” 

He was great at breaking the tension. You couldn’t help the smile that pulled up at your lips or the laugh that spilled from between them as you shook your head, turning in his arms to let him wash your back. 

“No? Well, that’s my dream destination. I’ve never been, and what better place to go with my bride?” 

READ THE BONUS ON PATREON

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

"Why the fuck...does this vacuum cleaner smell like cheese?"

Kento was yet to arrive home, and you saw this as only a blessing for him. Staring down the barrel of the hoover, the house finally hushed from the sounds of rowdy children, you wore your finest holey tank top, and pyjama shorts which covered asscheek, pussy and belly (but only ever two at a time, at any given time).

Your antiperspirant didn't have the same stamina as you. You swore as you trod barefoot on Lego, staggering and cussing like a mad old witch.

Bra-less, and without the time to scout the laundry pile for underwear, you hoovered crumbs and war-detritus like a skrunkly raccoon; hungry, cross, and in need of a shower. Your mind was lost, running between the alleyways of your chore-list, when the door clicked open, and closed.

You vacuumed, and vacuumed, not even looking up as you heard the rhythmic tack, tack, tack of his brown Oxfords approaching.

"There she is."

As if you were the Venus de Milo.

You grunted, lifting the rug and picking up an abandoned, squashed peach with an ugh! and cursed your sleeping offspring. You stood up with a huff, blowing sweaty hairs off your face, your breasts swinging independently of you.

"How's my darling wife?"

Pristine as ever, crisp and ironed and with the faintest tang of sweat and cologne, you wondered if Kento would ever arrive home looking like he'd been intimately acquainted with a trash can. The day had not yet come. Whiskey-deep eyes drank you in, parched.

Your heart ached with how handsome he looked, and how pathetically mismatched you were against him.

"Kento. You're home."

"Mmmm."

Either in confirmation, or having seen something delicious; you weren't sure. You suspected the latter. You scoffed as his hands reached out to slip round your raggedy waist, and you scoffed, and he shushed you, and you berated him, and he mumbled sweet nothings into your neck until you were finally folded into him, his missing ingredient.

And how he looked at you, as if you'd hung the stars and orchestrated the seasons.

You breathed him in, lax against the brick-wall solidity of him. You could have cried.

You still had sloppy peach remnants in your hand as Kento kissed you, soft and mellow and longing. You huffed against his lips.

"Kento, I am a fucking mess--"

"You're lovely--"

"--I absolutely am not--"

"--ravishing--"

"--you're ridiculous--"

"--gorgeous--"

"You're an idiot."

"I've missed you."

"God, I've missed you too. So much. You don't even know."

"I'm sure I do."

You sighed, nuzzling your face into the hard planes of Kento's collarbones, growling away a day of frustration. His chuckles rumbled up, tickling your nose. You rested your cheek against Kento's chest, your weariness bone-deep, having had no agency over your body or your time since dawn.

You surveyed the carnage together in silence; toys strewn as if the bodies of soldiers, abandoned laundry with stains of suspect aetiology, congealed meals, lovingly prepared and never eaten. You felt the weight of the day threaten to overwhelm you, feeling the panic and anxiety climbing, tidal waves on your waterline--

"Sit down. I'll make you a cup of tea."

The floodgates almost opened. "I can't do that-- you've had a long day-- so much to do--"

"And, I'll do it."

"No you won't, I--"

"Sit down. And I'll make you a cup of tea."

A single, slow kiss to your sweaty forehead. You sniffled, no strength left for another battle. You offered paltry smiling complaints as Kento nuzzled your hair, gripping you closer, growling into your neck as you squeaked and laughed.

You felt the familiar heavy press and twitch of his cock against you, and he groaned as you squirmed in his grasp, giggling. You caught his eye, as he twinkled down at you, pressing one slow kiss to your lips, possessive and full of promise.

"...I'm not apologising for anything. You look incredible."

"Ridiculous man, Nanami Kento."

Thinking about telling sugar daddy scoups that you're pregnant and being terrified about his reaction because that wasn't part of the deal - y'all just fuck so much without a condom that the birth control didn't work.

SugarDaddy!Scoups who knows something is wrong. He knows you were throwing up, and now you're avoiding him.

SugarDaddy!Scoups who shows up at your apartment one day while you're out and waits outside your door for you to come home, despite having a key, cause he's unsure if he's still allowed in your space.

SugarDaddy!Scoups who knows you're shocked to see him, but desperately wants an answer, so he refuses to leave until you tell him what's wrong- what he did and how he can fix it.

SugarDaddy!Scoups who pulls you into him the second the words "I'm pregnant" leave your mouth, his whole body enveloping you and his arms holding you tightly to his chest.

SugarDaddy!Scoups whose heart breaks when you ask, "Are you mad at me?"

"Baby, I'm so fucking happy right now I don't know what to do with myself."

SugarDaddy!Scoups who tells you he's all in, that he wants this, wants the baby, wants you.

SugarDaddy!Scoups who kisses you passionately, breathing you in and holding your body to his before he asks you to be his, for real, forever.

SugarDaddy!Scoups whose over the moon when you tell him that you've always been his.

Boyfriend and baby daddy!Scoups who takes you to bed that night and worships every inch of your skin, sucking marks onto your chest and stomach, littering bruises over your thighs and filling you up with more cum until you're writhing under him and can't cum anymore.

Boyfriend and baby daddy!Scoups who makes sure to be at every appointment and class. He reads all the books and does all the research.

Boyfriend and baby daddy!Scoups who asks you to move in with him so he can keep you and the baby close.

Boyfriend and baby daddy!Scoups who has the nursery set up and ready to go by the end of your 4th month (he's just really excited, ok?)

Boyfriend and baby daddy!Scoups who cries when he finds out he's having a little girl. He breaks down in the appointment, babbling out "thank you" over and over.

Boyfriend and baby daddy!Scoups who takes paternity leave the second you take maternity leave and refuses to go back until you give him the ok.

Boyfriend and baby daddy!Scoups who sits behind you and holds you close to his chest, feeding you ice chips, while you give birth to his little princess.

Boyfriend and baby daddy!Scoups who holds you both close while you sleep in his arms, whispering sweet nothing's to the little princess.

Boyfriend and baby daddy!Scoups who proposes to you in that hospital bed, the baby between you and a ring resting on her chest.

Fiancé!Scoups who refuses to let you move when you get home. He brings you food and drinks and helps you to the bathroom and bathes you. He changes the baby's nappies and feeds her.

Fiancé!Scoups who is scared to be intimate with you in case he hurts you, so he waits four (4) months. He gives in when you ask his parents to take the baby for a night and greet him with the sight of you in his favourite lingerie.

Fiancé!Scoups who is happiest when he's got you snuggled into his side and little princess resting on his chest.

| I WISH YOU ROSES + KAIJU NUMBER 8.

+cw. —f!reader, smut headcanon + scenarios format, sort of exs to lovers, mature content, angst and hurt, comfort, alcohol consumption, established relationship

+syn.— making amends after the fight. who apologizes first? does it always end up with sex? or is he sleeping on the couch tonight?

+wc. —1.5k

+notes. — wanted it to be super smutty but ended up with angst instead. enjoy and scream in tags if you like it| redirect to blog navigation.

→ [ ICHIKAWA RENO ]

reno would stare at the screen of his mobile phone opening your message box yet not send a single text to you. he is a little stubborn. in the spur of the moment, he said, “maybe we had nothing, to begin with in the first place.” those were some heavy words. he won't disagree. even liquor isn't enough to drown his feelings about you. why do people drink to forget their love anyway? it's stupid. it's so stupid. he locks his phone and then buries his head in his hands murmuring, “god why can't I just call her?" the rusty fizzy flavor is threatening his throat again. his phone starts to vibrate and rings a little later making him jump a bit but his reflexes were quick enough not to get you a first full ring. “hello? babe? is that you?”

“just call her man.” Iharu drawls from the other side and disconnects the call even though he sits opposite him. Reno looks at him ungodly pissed until the prior speaks up, “don’t waste your anger on me, dude.” Reno’s phone rings again.

“you’re doing this on purpose, aren't you picking on me?” Reno tartly responds holding his phone towards him so sure about that Iharu is doing it again but that dimwit is so drunk that he has to lean forward, squint his eyes at the screen.

“no dudee. It's your girl—” Reno picks up the phone but he doesn't speak.

“are you at a bar right now? i just finished my work.”

“yes, I’m. can I go pick you up?”

“of’course you can but I got a cab. bye. text me the address.”

When you reach at the bar you could easily spot him. He is sitting at the corner in a secluded area. Ofcourse he is. Then, there is Iharu practically drooling on the table.

“why are you here?”

“what do you mean why I'm here? You texted the address.”

“yes but aren't you angry? At me?”

“yes but I know better than to take you seriously when you are that angry. ” he looks away from your face. “we can talk about it if you are still upset.” he shoots you a lazy smile and gets up.

“what about him?”

“what about who?” reno asks with pinched eyebrows.

Iharu’s snores are quite loud by now. You look at Reno holding your hand out. He doesn't protest. He gives you his phone and says his passcode. He gets you. His words are not drawly but rather slower than usual. At first, you intend to call Kafka but both of them being a pain in the ass you texted his vice-captain.

The can ride from bar to home was silent. Reno was laying his head down on your shoulder, eyes closed but a little fidgeting was there every now and then. As soon as you reach your apartment complex he got out, even leant against the wall while being on the elevator. He's sulking. It's adorable sometimes. When you reach your shared apartment he doesn't come in stands outside until you ask him to.

“i’m sorry.” reno says loud enough to kick out the drowsiness out of his body. “i'm sorry, babe.”

“well, it was partly my fault too but —” you grab his collar and pull him towards yourself. his defense system is useless against you. “but I'm going to make it memorable.” you say unbuckling his pants. As soon as his trousers hit the floor Reno closes the door with a kick while you go to your knees. “perhaps we should fight more,”

With his member in your hand you look up at him and then blink. once. twice. thrice. And then get up and walk inside your room. A few seconds of silence and then Reno is walking on your trail left by you apologizing for a few more times until you just shut him up with the most sloppiest toe curling blow job.

→ [ GEN NARUMI ]

“do not walk away from me. I'm not done talking yet.” Narumi's voice is perfectly flat devoid any splotch of anger or even frustration. he is leaning against the door as you move from kitchen counter to the dinning table carrying the dishes, then cooked meals and a water bottle. his eyes are going back and forth waiting for you to say something, anything or just yell at him. he can handle your blood and tears, not this silent treatment.

“well, don't treat me like I'm one of your missions and we are good.” you exclaim with a low voice while waving a hand as if you were talking to yourself but actually you just wanted to beckon him for dinner.

“i don't us to be just good. I want us to be better, to be comfortable in each other's presence, even in thoughts. . .” and now he is going to lecture you, like one of his subordinates. there is an agonizingly awful silence filling the room as you wait for him to continue but he is just there, standing, still silent.

you turn your chair to spare a look at him. his stance is still the same, lazy and nonchalant. he isn't mocking you or your love for him. he genuinely cares for you.

“i mean it.” he starts walking towards you in faster pace than usual. “and you know that.” he stands in front of you looking like a kicked puppy. the moment you leave your seat he is going to pounce on you like a wounded animal. this has happened before and last time it hurt a lot. so you don't get up instead just turn around to eat.

He grabs your wrist before you can even touch the food. “I said we’re not done talking.” he almost yells. seeing you flinch he sighs deeply before he gets on his knees and rests his head on your lap. “we submit are phones after turning it off. that's why I didn't know— that you were coming early from work. we work in different departments so we have different rules too. you can ask around. they'll tell you.”

“why didn't you say that earlier? was the whole fight really necessary?” you said with utter frustration laced underneath your voice.

“shouldn’t i at least get the benefit of doubt?” he looks at you placing his chin on your thighs.

you stroke his hair and he closes his eyes. “yes but — umm— never mind.” you say running your thumb over his lips. he graces a glance at you before running his hands on your back tracing up to your shoulders, he is crouching now and then pull away your top. now you're naked and sitting on a chair as he is standing. he throws the top away and sits on his knees again. hooking his arms around your calf muscles he licks in between your legs. “this is payback.” he whispers. your panty is still on and all Narumi is doing is licking slowly over the cloth, sometimes barely touching but if this is the payback you don't mind it at all, unlike last time.

→ [ HOSHINA SOSHIRO ]

Hoshina is the one who gives you the silent treatment even if he is at fault. He doesn't want his anger to harm you in any way, be it due to you or due to himself. He is not much of an angry person to begin with but somehow he just loses it for you. Maybe that's his protective instinct for you or the fear of melting the cocoon he created for his own protection. Either way, it's frustrating. It's frustrating enough that he keeps telling you how you should not put yourself in danger to protect him in a field mission yet you keep disobeying him at every mission. Either you are mocking him or trying to take his position which by the way both are wrong given the fact that you are his subordinate. He sat on one of the benches in the training room. he is too frustrated to concentrate on training.

“you know, you can let your anger out right? on me?”

Hoshina looks at you, pupils ever so still like a moonlight pond on a windless night. That's exactly what he doesn't want. don't you get that? you're wearing your night dress not your suit, which means you were either waiting for him or going to bed.

“i'm not mad at you.” he sighs. “not even myself. just at the situation in general. i know it's your instinct to protect people but sometimes . . .” he trails off looking at his fisted hand. he unfists his hand again.

“i can take it all, you know?. be it your love or anger. . .” Hoshina looks at you keeping his bottle aside. he swallows before leaving his place and dragging you inside the training room, the door still not closed.

“are you sure about that my love?” he graces his hands in between your thighs while whispering. you give him a nod. “let's see how long you last.” as his hand rubs against your entrance his mouth starts to suckle over your nipples as his other hand pins both of your hands above your head. the night suddenly feels long and breezy.

≡;-꒰ 𝐋&𝐃𝐒 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 (𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕)

╰┈➤ ❝ oneshot series | caleb x reader | rafayel x reader | xavier x reader | zayne x reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

general tags : pwp (with plot), afab!reader, softdom!boys, reader deals with negative thoughts and insecurities, hints of anxiety and depression, fluff, mild angst, essentially just gentle comfort smut (but sex is not used as a coping mechanism)

premise : it happened, sometimes. though you could look at life through rose-colored glasses all you wanted, there were still reminders all around you that things won't always go by so perfectly. on some days, the struggle would become harder and harder to ignore... until it's overwhelming. exhausting. fortunately, on days like that, they will always remind you that you aren't alone—and maybe, then, things don't have to be so bad anymore.

alternatively—on your darker days, the love & deepspace boys soothe you through your anxieties.

*** some works are still in progress. wip tags subject to change. ***

Ღ ᴄᴀʟᴇʙ

tags : reader has social anxiety, reader has general insecurities, unwarranted catcalling, caleb gets pretty protective in this, cuddling, kissing, heavy petting, oral (f receiving), praise and reassurance, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, soft and slow sex, but it gets pretty rough towards the end, use of pet names "pipsqueak" "baby" "pretty"

(coming soon)

Ღ ʀᴀꜰᴀʏᴇʟ

tags : hints of switch!rafayel, reader is hesitant with intimacy, descriptions of self-esteem issues and general insecurities, mentions/implications of toxic relationships, implications of dubcon (not with rafayel), praise and reassurance, kissing and making out, heavy petting, first time sex (with each other) (no virginity loss), masturbation (f), oral (m. receiving), vaginal sex, cowgirl and missionary positions, unprotected sex, creampie, soft sex, use of pet names "cutie" "princess" "baby", references to card "fiery undercurrents"

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≡;-꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍

╰┈➤ ❝ rafayel x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni tags : softdom!rafayel, hints of switch!rafayel, reader is hesitant with intimacy, descrip

Ღ xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ

tags : reader has negative thoughts, implications of depression (not explicitly stated/mentioned), implication of self-harm (scars) (not detailed), slight arguing (ish), cuddling, praise and reassurance, kissing and making out, nipple play, slight clit play, fingering, soft and lazy foreplay, use of pet names "angel" "princess"

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≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni PLEASE be mindful of the tags, and please skip if they are uncomfortable for you! tags : s

Ღ ᴢᴀʏɴᴇ

tags : husband!zayne x wife!reader, reader has body insecurities and negative thoughts, kissing, heavy petting, body worship, praise and reassurance, nipple play, clit play, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, soft sex, slight dirty talk, slight cursing, use of pet names "sweetheart" "snowflake"

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≡;-꒰ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍

╰┈➤ ❝ zayne x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni tags : softdom!zayne, husband!zayne x wife!reader, reader has body insecurities and negative

『 whenever there's a chance, i'll tell you that you're amazing as you are; 'cause when you give me a glance, i'm sure that i see the universe in your eyes. 』

⁺₊ / an : fun facts with roxie time !! i'm currently getting my masters degree in psychology and have had experiences with anxiety and depression in previous years, so this series is a bit special to me! and i hope it can offer a bit of comfort to some of you, too <3 BUT just to clarify! again, sex is not used as a coping mechanism here; any sexual intimacy between reader and the boys in this series is communicated, consensual, and done in a safe environment 🙌 please please practice good communication and coping methods !! 🤍

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

back in it with the bsf!husband soshiro bs— because growing up the two of you were always such shits. just causing trouble and having each other's back. and i say this bc soshiro just goes from 'yeah thats's just no for me' when he doesn't want to do something to 'yeah, probably not going to get the greenlight from my wife'. doesn't want to sit through a supervision training session? 'my wife needs me to pick up groceries for dinner.' not wanting to go out for drinks that night? 'nah, my wife's waiting at home for me. i promised i'd finish this season with her'. and like no one can really call him out on it, even if its an absurd thing that you don't even need to have input on.

and sometimes its not even used as an excuse. especially when kafka is feeling a little extra spicy and tries to tease his vice-captain back and soshiro just hits him with 'do you have a wife?'

windbreaker x reader - sakura, suo, sugishita, kiryu, ume + togame AS DADS 🤍🤌🏻

(warning - mentions of bio kids/birth/nursing + etc!)

HARUKA SAKURA - goes from the panicked dad to the dad who can handle five children at once...

His first year of parenthood is mainly... chaos. It's him struggling to change a diaper with less than six baby wipes. It's him going on patrol with spit up on his shirt. It's falling asleep as soon as his head his the pillow, barely any spare moments left in the day to spend with you without baby by your sides.

His third year of parenthood, however? His third year has him with two kids on his hip and one hanging off his back, all while he's in the kitchen warming up bottles and scrambling eggs for lunch with enough time once everyone's down for a nap for him to sneak you into your bedroom to spend a surprise hour under the sheets.

It doesn't matter if the kids are his or not, he runs his household like a preschool military... even if, at the end of the day, he can't tell you how he managed to do it. Sakura always knows where every kid is stationed in the house, what they're all doing and want to do next, and who needs a meal or a nap or anything in between. It's like he's psychic of sorts, because one kid could just be popping out of their bedroom and he'd already have their milk and afternoon snacks at the ready.

He's also a miracle at handling fights and spats, able to sit down every single child involved and help them talk it out before making them apologize. It's almost as though he was made to be a dad... if his main purpose on earth wasn't already... fighting people?

(It makes sense, though; he's grown to be such a peace keeper.

That being said, just because he can handle five kids at once doesn't mean they can handle him. He can really be Mr. Tough Love sometimes, especially to kids that aren't his own and don't yet know he means everything with love.)

(Also, he will jog around the neighborhood with a stroller lmao, or power walk with the youngest on his back. The neighborhood ladies LOVE him. Keep him locked up for his own safety. Eventual dilf.)

-

HAYATO SUO - the dad to an extremely fussy baby...

Suo being the type of man that he is (and has always been)... you never would've guessed that one of the few things able to sway such an infallible man could be his very own baby.

That first year after your... very expressive... daughter is born is mostly spent with Suo in shambles. Neither of you are sure if it's just the lack of sleep and all the other emotions that come with being a first time dad that are making him so flustered when he can't figure out why she's crying or what she wants... or if your daughter really is just that powerful to have the almost-always-unfazed Suo so pissed at a piece of broccoli for simply existing under his daughter's nose.

Every patrol around town or date night or time spent without your daughter on his lap is time he spends PONDERING how he can master the whole... "being a good dad" thing. One of the few things he's not able to immediately master and pull off with grace.

He eentually gets the hang of it though, once his kids grow into their security and start acting just like him.

(For every kid you have, there's at least a year spent like this. No matter how much he's learned or how easy it becomes for him to read his children, it's like the process resets as soon another bugger shows up.

Of course, all his kids are born fussy because HE was a fussy baby. But don't tell him that.)

-

KYOTARO SUGISHITA - the "go get my wallet" dad...

Like all the time he spent in Ume's garden during his youth, when Sugishita becomes a dad, the best way he knows how to spoil his girls is by investing every single spare moment of his time at their side... and heeding every. single. one of their requests.

As soon as they're old enough to walk (and no longer need him carrying them around everywhere, which he is devastated about, btw)... he's not only trailing behind them everywhere, but also insisting they get whatever their little hearts could desire.

...which sometimes means he's secretly pulling out his wallet and paying off the employee at the zoo to let them stay another hour after their tickets expire... and sometimes means he's coming home from the grocery store with three extra bags of snacks and four, brand new toys.

(This indulgence of his does not go away even as they age. If his daughters want a caviar bento every day for lunch, they're getting that caviar bento no matter what. No matter the cost. No matter the labor. And yes, before you ask, he makes their lunches too.)

Discipline also doesn't really exist for this guy, it's lowkey embarrassing because YOU WOULD THINK it would, wouldn't you?

-

MITSUKI KIRYU - the dad whose kid ends up wearing mad drip to day care...

You know those memes that sometimes come around that are like... "hispter" or "swaggy" baby? Kiryu ends up with one of those, sort of... unintentionally, even if the outfits don't stop when you point out how much needless concern he has for his son's fashion.

(It's not even that he's trying to make your child is fashionable... it's just how naturally good he is at buying clothes; he always comes home from the department store with a whole ensemble rather than just the two or three pairs of shirts and pants you asked for.

It's a little... self-conscious-making, honestly... to walk into a preschool with the nicest dressed toddler in tow, wearing clothes even he doesn't care about, and that are obviously going to get dirty the second he starts playing in the dirt (which he does, practically the second you let go of his hand. He's a wanderer, lol.)

Not that Kiryu cares a thing about your baby making a mess in his specially chosen, mini flannel (not that I need to say so, but he does his share of laundry)... but when all the other kids are in regular leggings and Minecraft t-shirts... it's definitely sort of funny that yours wears baby converse and button-ups.

-

HAJIME UMEMIYA - picture man dad

Not only does Ume have pictures of all his kids happiest moments and biggest milestones, he has pictures of every second in between:

Pictures from between your legs of your baby literally being born, videos of the next one crowning. Pictures of your kid's first poop, or of their diaper rash from when he panicked and tried to emergency contact your doctor. Pictures from the first night they slept in their big kid beds, to pictures of their first (and worst) pimples.

He's lowkey (highkey) a vlog dad without the youtube channel; similarly, he also tries to record everything. Birthdays, sibling fashion shows, nighttime routines, wake-ups on holidays, fights, YOU NAME IT, he's pulling out his phone.

You honestly wouldn't think he does anything with the pictures but sometimes you find him asleep in bed just going through everything... he loves his kiddos that much <3

(He never forgets to take pictures of you both, either. Mostly you, but also some of the moments you're together, like your outfits or when you're on a date. He wants to be able to hold on to his memories forever, and give his kids something to remember you both by when they grow up.)

(Almost everyone has him muted on social media too except for Sugi lmaooo because he posts way. too. many. pictures and writes 500 word captions even over something as small as a lost tooth...)

(And lmao, he has at least one kid who is always ready to strike a pose, and in fact, does strike a pose whenever there's a camera out.)

-

JO TOGAME - the most hands-on father who will NOT put his child down...

For Togame... fatherhood essentially turns him into a willing jungle gym... likely due to the fact that when your baby was first born, he happily took on the night feeds and changings and often fell asleep in the armchair right next their crib just waiting for the next time he could hold them...

But you know those dads you sometimes see out in public, who play with their kids the way they'd play with a monkey? No sooner than he's finally able to is he holding your child up on his shoulders or swinging them around by the ankles like a sack of potatoes every time they're together; causing you to have a heart attack whenever you witness it, and everyone in the general vicinity with a shitty partner to ask how you "got him to be so involved with raising with your kids."

(Of the two of you, he's actually the one who gets antsy when people who aren't close to either of you ask to see or touch the baby. He's the one who hovers cautiously when his cousins pester you about letting them have a turn holding the baby, or when another relative makes a joke about you hiding them from family when you just went off to nurse in private. He is Pissed and is not afraid to express that lmao.)

It's really a blessing and a curse... because on one hand it's sooo sweet to watch them together... but then on another, your child is just, if not more, clingy than him... and cries louder than any other kid in the room when Togame finally lets go of the hug on their first day of preschool.)

-

Thank you for reading!

cheol has been so hot recently i need his kids

cw — nsfw, talk of kids & pregnancy, breeding, reader referred to as ‘girl’

“Four, Seungcheol?”

“Huh?” your fiancé perks up from his phone at the sound of your voice.

“Four kids? Three boys and one girl?”

He raises one of his thick brows at you and a smirk appears on his lips. “Is that what you want?”

“No, apparently that’s what eighteen year-old Seungcheol wanted,” you say, waving your phone screen at his face. “Seungkwan sent me a video of you asking Dino how many kids he wants when he’s older. First of all, he looks like a newborn, so I don’t know why you would ask him that. Second of all, four?!”

He stretches his palm out towards you, a curious frown wracking his features as you hand your phone to him so he can watch said video.

He watches it through, and it appears you’re right—it’s his younger self telling his members that he wants three sons and a youngest daughter.

It’s not like you haven’t talked kids with him before. In fact, it’s come up a few times before, and he’s always been considerate of you only. It’s however many you want, and if you don’t want any, that’s fine too. That’s why it’s a little comical seeing a younger Seungcheol fantasise about having so many kids when you’re almost certain he had never even been in the same room with a girl yet.

For a moment he worries that you’re genuinely mad at him over this, until you throw yourself onto the couch next to him with the cutest fake pouty frown on your face.

“Your poor future wife’s womb,” you say, shaking your head at him like you’re disappointed. “You’re so inconsiderate of her.”

“We’re talking in third person now?” he laughs, reaching over to massage your thighs.

“Well, no, because I won’t be carrying four of your gremlins.”

He gives a half-scoff, half-laugh. “I’m not asking you to, honey,” he says, growing serious for a moment. The next moment he’s grinning again, eyes twinkling with mischief. “But I remember what one of your friends told me you said to her when me and you met for the first time.”

Sweat starts pouring down your face immediately.

“You said I was so hot that you’d give me a football team of kids if I wanted.”

“I was drunk!”

“You were tipsy at most,” he corrects.

“Whatever,” you say with a roll of your eyes and the heat of the sun in your cheeks. “I didn’t lie.”

“Oh, yeah? I thought you refuse to ‘carry my gremlins’ though. Now you want a whole football team?”

“Seungcheol!” you exclaim, smacking at his arm for his audacity. “Why don’t we worry about just one for now?”

“Wait… really?” Seungcheol asks, his eyes shining. “I thought you wanted to wait until after the wedding.”

“It’s in two months, so it’s not like I’ll be showing. Also, it can take a couple of weeks of trying to even get pregnant in the first place.”

Okay, maybe there are a few more logistical issues with being pregnant on your wedding day, but truth be told, right now, all Seungcheol can think about is fucking you into another dimension.

“Honey, I promise that I will put a baby in you by morning.”

He wasn’t lying.

The clock nears three a.m. and Seungcheol still pounds away at you like a feral dog. Every inch of your skin is sticky with either spit, sweat, or cum. Your muscles burn from exertion, not yet aching but by the time day comes they will be.

It started off soft—kisses that were bursting with love and excitement because you wanted to have a baby. A family. Seungcheol’s touches dripped with appreciation for you, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be like this but a thousand times more when you’re actually pregnant.

Then he’d fucked you full the first time, and in the blink of an eye, the tenderness in his eyes was gone. He’d filled you up, yet suddenly, it wasn’t enough. It didn’t help that you begged so sweetly for his cum, with your pretty eyes gazing up at him, glimmering.

He’s never been immune to your eyes.

From then on his grasp had turned bruising. Now he’s got you pressed into the mattress, pouring every ounce of his weight into fucking you.

“Feels so fucking good, Cheol,” you whimper, throat dry and raspy from all the moaning you’ve been doing. Your fingers are weak as they curl into the sheets below, but you need something to cling to or else you might pass out.

“Yeah, look at you still taking it. My fucking girl,” he grunts, digging his fingers into your hips as he arches your back further down, burying his cock impossibly deeper inside you until you swear he’s in your womb. His cum from previous rounds slips out of your hole with every time he punches into you, but Seungcheol makes no effort to push it back inside—it means he’d have to pull out, and, right now, he’d probably rather die than leave the warmth of your walls that clench down on him so tight that they keep him nestled inside.

“Made for me, you know that? You and this pussy were made for me,” he rambles, leaning down until his hard, sweat-slicked chest is pressed to your back. His hot, jagged breaths nip at your ear. “Made to take my cum, to carry my kids.”

“All yours, Cheol,” you manage in a whisper. His rough hands leave your hips, only to cover your own hands as they claw at the sheets, and lace your fingers together. A reminder that he’s still your Seungcheol, your future husband, who loves and cares for you more than anything and would never do anything to hurt you. It makes your heart and your pussy clench.

“Gonna cum again, baby? Can you take one more?” he asks, with a punched out chuckle.

“Fuck- yes, I can take it,” you mewl, voice cracking, mustering up any last remaining strength in you to push back against his hips, shamelessly desperate for cock. “Wanna cum again. Want your cum too.”

It takes everything in Seungcheol not to lose his mind. He wonders how he got so lucky with you, because he’s convinced the gods made you for him and put you in this world. The fact that he also managed to find you is a miracle.

He peels himself off of you, straightens back up, and fucks into you with such vigour that you start to see stars. Or maybe it’s your orgasm, because it’s almost immediate the way your abdomen erupts with a soft glow of pleasure—he’s wrung all the energy out of you so that it’s no longer crashing waves but a gentle pulse. Still, it leaves you breathless and teary-eyed, your pussy clamping down on Seungcheol’s cock, desperate for his seed.

“There it is, good girl,” he coos, watching tenderly as you gasp and shudder from the pleasure subsiding. “I’m right there too, baby, gonna stuff you full again, just how you like it, hm?”

Gentle fingers push strands of hair out of your face, his thumb wiping away the stray tears that roll down your cheek.

“Please, want your baby in me, Cheollie,” you sob.

“I’ll give you a baby. I promised, didn’t I?”

Inside your walls, his cock throbs and pulses with his promise, begging to coat your womb.

“Yes, yes, please! Want it so bad.”

You’re not sure how Seungcheol even has anything left in him, but a moment later and he’s spilling his seed inside you in spurts again, filling you up for the nth time tonight. You smile at the warmth, at the feeling of fullness that nobody but him could give you.

“Baby? Are you okay? Is it too much?” he asks, pulling out of you all too quickly after he’d come back down from his high. Your ‘perfect, doting fiancé’ Seungcheol replaces the ‘rabid animal’ Seungcheol in an instant when his head clears and he takes in the sight of you, covered in fluids and bruises and marks from his mouth and his hands.

“‘m good, just… so tired,” you say, falling to your side with a yawn, grimacing at the feeling of dried cum and spit on your skin as you move.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t have kept going, I’m sorry for pushing you that hard,” he says, voice heavy. He lays next to you, stroking your cheek, his eyes glazed over with guilt.

“I would have asked to stop, I promise. You know I can take it,” you tell him, smiling assuredly at him.

“I definitely know that now.” He laughs, albeit nervously.

“Besides, you promised you’d put a baby in me by morning and there’s no way I’m not pregnant after that.”

He watches you pat your tummy and the guilt in his features vanishes then, and in its place comes smug, utterly shameless pride. He has a feeling, just an inkling, that none of this went to waste, that it stuck, that you’re right.

As a sweet slumber takes over you, the last thing you hear is your fiancé’s hushed words of “I love you,” and the feel of his lips against your forehead.

randomly thought of girldad soshiro

✩ — includes: soshiro hoshina x f!reader. fluff. no cws. wc: 332. reblogs are very much appreciated !!

✩ — note: ANON I SWEAR WHEN I CATCH YOU OMFGHJHAJHAJHAJDKHASV PLSSSS

soshiro had doubts in his abilities as a father, if ever the time came.

and well, it did come—but on that day, he swore that he'd do his very best to be a good father figure. (despite your husband being confident in himself in the regular sense, he isn’t that confident when it comes to fatherhood so he can’t really say that he’ll be the “greatest”.)

when it’s only hoshina and his daughter alone, he'll let his daughter play with his hair, letting her put some random ribbon clips on it. and when your daughter gets her hands on your little makeup collection, soshiro prepares himself. the way his daughter drags the brush against his skin is ticklish as he tries to hold back a laugh at the feeling since his daughter would scold him, saying, “daddy, don’t move! you’re gonna ruin your makeup!” with a little pout on her lips.

he spoils her ever so often too. whenever soshiro finds something that will remind him of his daughter, he will get it. although he gets scolded by you, the words “you shouldn’t spoil her this rotten, soshiro.” repeat themselves every time it happens. but hey, nothing could beat the sparkle in his daughter’s eyes when she saw what her daddy got her. could you really blame him?

there are times when his daughter gets fascinated by her daddy’s little fangs. always trying to poke them whenever hoshina speaks. hoshina’s fangs are also something that your daughter has inherited from him and they always peek out whenever she laughs out loud (a sound that’s music to both of you and your husband’s ear). she will always point out how pointy it is, wondering if her little fangs will grow that pointy too when she grows up.

yet as time went on, soshiro realized that he’s already doing his best to be a good father figure to your daughter. as long as she’s happy, then he’s happy. that is simply how it works.

Imagine you created a hate account just to slander the First Division Commander, Gen Narumi. He is a petty loser and you feel this slight satisfaction watching him getting annoyed reading all the hateful comments you leave on his posts and all articles written about him. But you didn't think much about what he would do to you once he finds out that one of his team members was behind that awful account. He wouldn't find out about it anyway. Why bother?

34.6037° S, 58.3816° W | jww

(your latest assignment has you jetting off to argentina hoping to finally catch the infamous art thief that's escaped your agency one too many times already. you know what's at stake if you lose your focus. enter the beautiful stranger that has you questioning everything you know.)

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader genre: strangers to lovers, (kinda, v light) enemies to lovers | smut, fluff, angst rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~22.8k (idk what happened) warnings: art thief!wonwoo, secret agent!reader, brief mentions of death & bloody past (again, reader is a secret agent), mentions of past violence, mentions of weapons, food, drinking, VERY ambiguous ending smut warnings: multiple smut scenes, multiple positions, unprotected sex (don't do this), slightly rough sex, mild dom!wonwoo?, fingering, oral sex, choking, spanking, multiple orgasms, squirting, light marking, semi-public sex, food play (whipped cream, chocolate), i think that's it

a/n: this is for @svthub's world tour collab (check out the other fics here). i had so much fun writing this even if it got away from me a bit. thanks to @effortandmore for lending me her art brain. thanks to @highvern for constantly listening to me and @multi-kpop-fanfics for fit inspo. and as always, thank you to my bby @wongyuseokie for the banner & divider.

tag list: @wonustars, @minisugakoobies, @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @naajaeminsgf, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @pyeonghongrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @tomodachiii, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @sdoulc, @wonwootakemyheart, @divinityyyy, @nightshadeinmoonlight, @imma-queencard, @jelly-n

“We’ll be landing in about 45 minutes, according to the pilot,” a voice says, interrupting your laser-like focus.

You look up from your tablet and blink at him for a second. It takes you a moment or two to register he’s even standing there. Another moment to register what he actually said to you a second ago. In the meantime, you switch the program open on your tablet.

“Oh, thanks,” you say in response. 

He sits down in the seat opposite you and fixes you with a smile. “Must be a good book, you’ve barely looked up for the entire flight.” 

“Guilty,” you say with a practiced smile. 

Chan, you think that’s his name, seems nice enough. A little overeager and too ready to agree to something when his bosses tell him what to do. There’s that real thirst to prove himself. But, at least from what you hear, he’s got a bright future. He’s done well with what he’s been given so far, which are increasingly difficult assignments. You can see why. He’s easy on the eyes and he’s got that soft smile down. The kind of unassuming smile that makes people want to trust him. If he can keep it up, he’ll go far. 

“Thanks again for letting me catch a ride,” you say to fill some of the space between you. 

Chan only shrugs. “Any friend of Mr. Choi’s is always welcome. Plus, nobody really says no when the boss says something.”

A lesser person would have probably laughed at that. Hearing him referred to as Mr. Choi and the boss is a little comical to you. Not that it isn’t true because he is definitely Chan’s boss. It’s just, well, it’s a little more complicated than that. 

“Honestly I don’t really even understand what Cheol does,” you lie and turn on a little bit of the charm. It’s always good to practice on people that are trained to be charming themselves. 

“Do you call him that?” Chan wonders.

“Call him what? Cheol?” you ask and Chan nods, eyes a little wide. It catches him just off guard enough. “Yeah, but I’ve known him for years. What do you call him?”

“Sir, usually,” Chan answers too quickly. You can’t fully fight the smile that answer brings to your lips. “Glad to see I entertained you.” 

“He’s not nearly as bad as I’m sure he seems at work,” you say like you’re sharing a secret.

The truth is that you’ve been hearing about this new agent that Seungcheol is personally training for over a year now. So, you know that eventually, you’re going to all be laughing at this conversation in hindsight and he’ll also be calling his boss Cheol. For now, though, things are a little bit different. 

“He mentioned that you were heading down to do some research?” he asks and you nod. 

This part has always been a little tedious to you, the part where you come up with a cover story that you even have to feed to other people within the same organization. It’s been this way for your entire career. You were recruited at 18 years old and went through special training along with obtaining a degree. The Agency had two divisions, but you only ever learned about the second one if you were recruited to work there. It was that second division you joined right away. 

Training had been grueling. If it wasn’t some kind of physical endurance training, it was sitting in a windowless room studying history or a foreign language. Or it was combat training with whatever weapon was on deck that day. Or working to blend into any situation. You quickly learned that did not mean not being memorable. At least not in every situation. Sometimes that meant looking at ease in your surroundings even if eyes were on you. Thankfully, the charm seemed to come naturally to you and that was one less thing you had to worry about learning. 

The Agency officially works in maintaining international relationships between countries. That can mean a number of different things. Sometimes it involves an agent or team heading out to a location as official representatives. They can help with negotiation, security concerns, smoothing out issues, anything really. Unofficially, it often involves going undercover on a mission. That can involve either division, depending on the sensitivity of the mission. If it’s simpler, then someone like Chan gets sent out to work his way into a situation and influence the outcome so that everything stays calm. In fact, he’s here to charm a wealthy heiress that’s getting a little too close to revealing confidential information on government contracts. 

You, on the other hand, are officially here to study Argentinian culture and immerse yourself in local traditions. Chan doesn’t know that you work for The Agency as well. He doesn’t know that Seungcheol is like a boss to you. It’s not his preference. Seungcheol misses the days when he was by your side in the field instead of stuck in the office behind a desk. Unfortunately, several years ago he suffered a severe injury that just made field work impossible for him. It took a lot of convincing, most of which fell on your shoulders as the person closest to him, to get him to transition to his current role. Where you had never set foot in the main offices, he had been there periodically. He was known to people there. And he was so insanely smart that you pointed out he would be bored trying to assimilate into regular life. Why not get to do one of his other favorite things and tell younger agents (or even older ones) what to do? That had been the biggest selling point because he was good at being in charge. It had been a bit of a rocky transition at first, but now it’s smooth sailing. 

Unofficially, you’re here tracking one of the most infamous art thieves in the world. This is the kind of thing that has to be handled with the utmost secrecy. Other agencies and your own have tried to track him down and apprehend him only to have him slip into the wind. If you had to hazard a guess, you’d assume that there had been leaks during the previous attempts. You’ve also considered that he’s just really good at making a mark and blending into his surroundings. This is one of the most secretive missions you’ve ever been sent on despite seeming relatively innocuous. How much harm can an art thief really cause, right? Except, The Agency is largely funded by private investors and several of those investors have been victims and had art stolen. Despite that, the only people that know you’re making this attempt now are Seungcheol and the head of covert operations. His counterpart doesn’t know that you’re handling it, or even who you are. Instead, the main division of The Agency has a team headed to Amsterdam thinking that they’re after the notorious thief. 

Although it seems like it should be straight forward, this thief has been working in the shadows for years without anyone really knowing what he looks like beyond him being a man. The reports about what he actually looks like vary so greatly that nobody really knows what to believe. You and Seungcheol have spent months trying to put together a profile that seems most realistic and you feel as comfortable as you can. His appearance seems a little elusive, but the information that he’s going to be in Buenos Aires is the best lead you’ve gotten. It comes from someone that you worked with on a previous mission. You had been studying your profiles when Chan came over and quickly exited to a different application. 

“I am. I’m working on understanding the history of Argentinian culture through the eyes of Buenos Aires for a project,” you say with all the affection of someone who was actually going to be doing that. “I’m going to spend most of my time just out talking to people, learning their stories, that kind of thing.”

“Do you, uh, speak Spanish?” Chan wonders with clear apprehension. 

“I do,” you say with a light laugh. “Be a bit awkward if I didn’t, right?” 

“That’s impressive,” he says. 

“I speak several languages,” you say nonchalantly and then make a show of catching his eye. “I studied language and culture in university.” 

“You’re not what I’d imagine for one of my boss’s friends,” Chan admits. “Especially one close enough to get added to the manifest.” 

You shrug. “I’ve known him for a long time.” 

“He doesn’t strike me as someone with a lot of time for friendships or someone that you can ever really know,” Chan presses and you laugh.

“Married to the job, right?” you agree. “I’m a low maintenance friend. I spend a lot of time out of town for research, immersed in local culture. We’ve probably got more in common that you’d think.” 

“That makes a lot of sense,” he concedes, seeming to easily buy your cover. He stands up. “I’ll let you get back to your reading.”

The rest of the flight goes smoothly and you say your goodbyes to Chan and the others from the flight once you get off the plane. As is the plan, you take your suitcases to a local taxi and head to your hotel, checking in under one of the many fake names you used when on a mission. The room is nice, too, even if it’s nothing all that extravagant. It’s just another part of the cover. 

Since it’s been a long day, you figure that you might as well just order room service and settle in for the night. It’ll give you the chance to start getting your body used to the local timezone. Not that your body really has a home timezone anymore with how you’re constantly on the move. But, you still don’t mind the idea of resting for the night. 

You’re incredibly thankful to be in Buenos Aires in July since it’s the coolest month. It makes it easier for you to just walk everywhere. Before leaving your room for your first full day in your new city, you double check your messenger bag to make sure everything is in there: camera, multiple lenses,  journal, tablet and keyboard, sunglasses, wallet, and all your little bits to make it look like a bag you wear all the time. You smile at the receptionist on your way out, letting her know that you’re going off to explore what the city has to offer. She seems happy to see that you look better rested than after your long travel day. Even if heading out is mostly a cover for your mission, it’s also a little true. This city has been on your bucket list to visit for years and you’re not going to waste what might be your only opportunity to explore. It might even make it more believable as you’re trying to blend into the crowds around you.

After spending several hours wandering around and taking in everything you could, you find yourself at a local cafe in the early afternoon to have a cup of coffee and a light lunch. The whole morning flew by in a rush of colors and culture. It’s so easy to be interested in everything that’s before you because it’s just so vibrant. So full of life. Such a juxtaposition of history, tradition, and new influences. It’s one of the first times you’ve been somewhere and had to remind yourself that you are actually on a mission. You’re not just there to sightsee and fall in love. 

There are a lot of tourists in the cafe, which doesn’t really surprise you. Most places in Buenos Aires stay open during the afternoon for tourism, but you know that cafes in smaller towns would close. You figure that most locals probably avoid shops during this time of day as well. It feels lucky when you spot an open table in the corner until another patron moves and you see there’s actually someone sitting in one of the seats. It’s an uncharacteristically awkward moment for you, especially given how confident you are with everything else, that he catches you mid-decision. His eyes meet yours before looking at the coffee in one hand and the plate in the other. When he looks back down at the table, it clicks into place before you can turn around. 

“You, uh, can sit…” he starts with deliberate slowness that shouldn’t be throwing you off even more. 

You shake your head to clear it and smile. “It’s fine, I don’t just speak Spanish.” 

“Oh,” he says with a breath of relief. “Well, you can sit here.” 

“I don’t want to intrude,” you say and go to turn around.

“It’s busy. Are you going to just eat standing up?” he asks with a challenging raise of his eyebrow. 

“Well,” you start.

“I probably won’t be here much longer anyway,” he offers.

Reluctantly, you move to sit down with him. It’s kind of insane the way he’s thrown you off your game by just existing. Usually, you’re the one that’s disarming strangers with your charm, not the other way around. As soon as you sit down, he looks back at the book he has open in front of him. It gives you a chance to figure out if he’s actually that attractive that it’s thrown you off or if you’re still just jet-lagged. 

His glasses slide down a nearly too perfect nose and he pushes them up without missing a beat. His black hair is a little messy and a little long, falling carelessly around his face as he gets lost in whatever book he has open in front of him. His clothes make him look a little too fancy to be sitting in a cafe overrun with tourists like this. Somehow, he makes a cardigan over a dress shirt with nice, pressed slacks work without looking like he’s trying too hard. Everything about him just exudes calm, confident energy. Like the kind of person you would assume comes from old money. Unassuming, yet standing out without even meaning to. It reminds you of some of the landmarks you saw that morning, like rich history perfectly combined with modern needs. 

Thankfully, at least some of your training kicks back in and you manage to keep it from being too obvious that you’re one step away from fully checking him out. Your new tablemate seems content to sit in silence, though, so you pick at your food while going through some of the pictures on your camera. Today is about getting the lay of the land as much as anything else. It’s not like you can just find your infamous art thief without knowing where to look. 

“I’m sure you got some great shots,” he says, drawing your attention again. When you look up, his eyes are on your camera. 

“Oh, yeah, it’s so hard to really capture the feeling of something through a camera, but I definitely try,” you say.

“I saw you at The Obelisk and I thought, I’ve never seen someone so focused in my entire life,” he says, except now he’s looking at you.

“There must have been thousands of people there. How did you pick me out?” you ask with a laugh. 

The mystery man shrugs. “Like I said, you were focused. And not in the way a lot of influencers who travel for the perfect picture are. I knew that it was more than that for you.” 

“It is,” you agree. “I’m studying the history and the culture down here. Just got in last night.” 

“Can I see the picture you landed on?” he ventures. 

You hesitate. Your pictures are good, sure, but you’re not actually doing anything that serious when you’re down here. Since it’s supposed to be part of your cover, you should feel confident. After a moment, you hand your camera over to him with your favorite picture in the display window. 

“Be kind. My focus is language and history first, not photography,” you toss out. Another layer to the cover. It’s convenient, though. Not that you expected to be talking to someone like him about photography.

“This is amazing,” he says and seems earnest. “Can I look through the rest?”

Again, you pretend to consider. This time it’s for the sake of the persona you’re committing to. It’s not like there’s anything on there from before today since it’s a fresh SD card. 

“I promise to be kind,” he presses and you roll your eyes.

“Fine,” you say and he smiles. 

It’s hard not to notice the amount of care he uses while handling your camera. Maybe he knows something about photography and realizes it’s an expensive model. Or maybe he’s just gentle with something that clearly means a lot to someone else. It’s also easier to feel like you can appreciate things about him when his attention is somewhere else. Like he won’t notice the way your eyes map his features, noting the furrow in his brows or how smooth his skin is. Or the way his hair seems absolutely perfect without any product in it. None of it seems fair that he should just get to walk around looking like that.

“I’m surprised not to find a picture of myself on here,” he starts and it pulls you from your thoughts. There’s a moment where you wonder if he’s secretly self-centered, until you meet his eyes and see the glint there. “You know, with how you’ve been studying me.” 

“I appreciate beauty wherever I see it,” you answer, trying to channel more boldness than you feel. 

“Are you saying I’m beautiful?” he questions, entirely too at-ease. 

“I don’t think you need confirmation on that,” you scoff and look out the window. “Besides, it wasn’t me that noticed you earlier.” 

“A shame for me,” he muses. “I appreciate beautiful things as well.”

He hands your camera back with his eyes locked on you. It makes your skin feel a little flushed and you hate it. Hate that you’re always able to keep your cool in any situation and still so completely disarmed by this man. Hate that it’s him that breaks the moment, too, when he looks down at the expensive watch on his wrist with a sigh.

“Late for something?” you venture. 

“Something like that,” he agrees and puts his book away in a bag you hadn’t noticed. “I’m glad you sat down though.” 

“Me too,” you admit a little too quickly as he’s standing up.

“Enjoy your afternoon, beautiful stranger,” he says and you twist around.

“Wait, I didn’t get your name,” you call and he stops by the door. The smile he throws your way sends a tingle down your spine.

“I hope we’ll run into each other again, then,” he says.

And just like that, he’s gone. Slips into the crowd like he wasn’t even there in the first place. It makes you wonder, just for a second, if the entire exchange actually happened. Until you look back at the table and see the cup of coffee he had been drinking. Beside it, you notice a small piece of paper advertising a new installation at one of the local art museums. Not entirely out of the question, you think, for someone visiting this city and also interested in seeing your camera.

It’s then that you remind yourself why you’re actually here. You shake your head to clear it of any thoughts of the stranger, knowing you can’t make any effort to run into him again. The mission is the only thing that matters. Getting close to someone that could distract you in that way is not part of the plan. So, you can appreciate the banter and get back on track.

The next few days pass relatively uneventfully. You continue to explore the city while always keeping your eyes and ears open for any indication of the art thief. It’s a little frustrating to not have much to go on, but you’re also one of the most patient agents and you know it’ll pay off eventually. Seungcheol keeps in regular contact, sending along each new nugget of information he’s able to find. Even if they’re seemingly insignificant, you file them all away, appreciating how hard you know he’s working given how few people know about the mission. He has to pull the relevant pieces to send to you without tipping off the team in Amsterdam. 

You’re also splitting your days. Making sure to get out to experience the local culture to maintain your cover, while spending just as much time locked away in your room so that you can do your own research. Everything points to him already being in the city as well. It also seems like this next heist might be two-fold for him. It appears that he’s got a client that wants a specific piece of art and that he’s also going to steal some pieces for himself to sell at later dates. It’s a bit unusual, from what you’ve been able to tell. He usually likes to keep each job simple to reduce the likelihood of getting caught. Then again, he’s been active for years and doing just fine. 

Today you decide to go to check out a museum that you’ve been putting off. It’s silly, but you didn’t want to show up there the day after that cafe since it seemed a little convenient to leave behind. You have to familiarize yourself with all the museums in the city, though, and it seems like this one could be your thief’s target. It has just the right amount of traffic. Just the right combination of popular pieces with lesser known artists. 

Once you’re there, you immediately move away from the popular sections. That’s not the kind of art you’re after because it’s not the kind of art the thief ever steals. It’s too recognizable. Too hard to move. Just too risky. Once you’re in a quieter part of the museum, you fight off any feelings of being a fraud. Art has never really been your strong suit. If it weren’t for this mission being so sensitive, you definitely would not be the first agent anyone would choose. But, it is sensitive and so you have to rely on your training to carry you through any conversations that might pop up. You have to rely on the hours spent pouring over lectures about the different styles and influences, the different periods, different techniques. Hopefully your talent at rote memorization will serve you well. 

“It’s a shame they keep one of the best artists tucked away in a corner like this,” a voice says from your side, pulling you from your thoughts. 

You answer without even thinking much about the voice or even turning to see the person who appeared next to you nearly soundlessly. “Makes it easier to appreciate in peace, though.” 

“You like surrealism, then?” he asks and it’s only then that you notice something familiar about the voice or the manner of speaking. Or the fact that he’s not speaking to you in Spanish. 

Before you even turn to your side, you know who you’re going to find. He’s looking just as put together and at-ease as he did several days ago in the cafe. His hands rest in his pockets, but his eyes on you are sharp. There’s something a little hard to read about him, you think. 

The smile you give him is practiced, designed to seem genuine. “I like Leonor Fini.” 

“You’ve got good taste,” he says and turns back to the piece. 

“I do like surrealism,” you carry on, turning back to the piece yourself as well, “but, with her work, I really appreciate the way she used female subjects through a female lens. Too many artists…”

You trail off, pretending you’re unsure if you should continue. He falls into the setup easily. “Men could only show female subjects through their own eyes, but women look different through the eyes of other women.” 

“Exactly,” you say and smile at him before turning back to the painting again. “There’s something so captivating about the work she did.” 

“I agree. That’s why this is my favorite piece here and in my favorite section of works,” he says confidently. 

“You already have a favorite?” you joke.

“Well, I’ve been here every day for the past several days,” he shares.

This makes you turn to him fully. “Because you love this section and this work so much?” 

This mysterious man actually looks down like he’s embarrassed to admit whatever he’s about to tell you. Like he’s gotten shy for a moment. “I do, but I was actually hoping to run into you.” 

That catches you a bit off guard and it takes your brain a minute to remember, once again, you’re here on a mission. “It would have been easier to run into me if you just asked for my number.” 

“Kind of ruins this whole mysterious thing I have going on, though,” he shrugs. 

You roll your eyes and extend your hand, giving him your fake name for the mission. His eyes sparkle for a second before he takes your hand. 

“Wonwoo,” he answers.

“Nice to finally get your name,” you tease.

“I figured you’d come check out the museum when I left the card there at the cafe,” Wonwoo says. 

“I knew that was on purpose,” you mumble.

“Yet you didn’t come until today,” he observes.

“I wasn’t trying to make it easy on you,” you throw out quickly.

“Okay, time to switch tactics, then,” he says. “Can I take you to dinner tonight?” 

“I’m not sure, can you?” you ask.

“Please let me take you to dinner,” he says.

It’s a bad idea and you know it. Everything about him screams distraction. This isn’t what you’re in Buenos Aires to do. Yet, there’s something about him that has you curious. There’s also the fact that this museum seems to be the most likely target for the art thief and this man admitted he’s been here every day. A small part of your brain is sending up alarm signals to keep an eye on him. He doesn’t seem like a secret art thief, but hasn’t your training taught you how to hide in plain sight? It’s entirely possible he’s doing the same.

Your brain goes into overdrive as it often does on missions. There are a million little details in the pages of your profile on the art thief. They come flooding back to you. The profile so thoughtfully pieced together by The Agency says he’s probably unassuming. The kind of man that fits into any situation in the same way as you do, like he’s not trying to fit in and it means he doesn’t stand out as not belonging. The profile suggests that he’s confident. That he would appear calm. Most importantly, he’s the kind of person that would absolutely look at home in the midst of art. So, whether it’s a good idea or not, you know you’re going to say yes. He must see the answer in your eyes before you voice it because he smirks. 

“What time?” 

Wonwoo offers to pick you up at your hotel, but you insist that you’ll meet him at the restaurant. It’s safer that way, after all, being a woman traveling alone. At least that’s what you tell him. Not that anything about Wonwoo seems that threatening and you’re better equipped to handle yourself than most. You just don’t need him anywhere near your room even with everything put away. After going back to get ready, you made time to pour over the information you have. The more you consider it, the more it seems plausible that he could be exactly who you’re looking for. There’s only one issue: he asked you out. Everything you have suggests that he made agents in the past and slipped into the wind. You’re not cocky enough to think you’re too good to fall victim to the same fate. You keep your update to Seungcheol vague in case the lead doesn’t pan out. 

Surprisingly, Wonwoo picks a nice place off the beaten path for dinner. It’s not overrun with tourists and it’s not too expensive. Like him, it’s unassuming but quietly impressive. You try not to let your heart skip a beat when you see him in a simple white dress shirt and black dress pants. He stands to pull your seat out for you and then settles back into his seat across from you. This is for the sake of the mission. Either he’s the person you’re looking for or you’ll have enjoyed a free and tasty meal. Nothing more to it. 

His Spanish, it turns out, isn’t that great and so you help him through ordering since it’s definitely a place more for the locals. Or maybe it’s just an excuse to get your help. You’re not really sure you mind either way. He makes suggestions about which wines he prefers, but ultimately lets you pick, insisting that he will take care of whatever you land on. Once you get through ordering and all the small talk, it gives you a chance to really get to know him.

“Have you been here before?” you ask.

“This restaurant or this city?” he asks.

“Either,” you shrug.

“No to both,” he answers. “Clearly, my Spanish is a bit rusty. I’m so lucky that I found someone who’s so fluent.” 

“I’m not sure I believe you can’t speak the language,” you muse.

“I can speak enough Spanish to get by, but it’s not that good,” he assures you. 

“Interesting place to visit, then,” you observe.

“I’d miss out on a lot of beauty if I only went where I spoke the language fluently,” he retorts and you smile genuinely at that. He’s right. 

“Like the art in the museum?” you suggest.

“Or a charming stranger,” he counters. You’re impressed. “I do like the art as well, though.” 

“What other beautiful places have you visited?” you ask.

“Oh, I hardly think it’s that interesting,” he dismisses.

“Humor me,” you say. 

There’s a moment where he’s careful in listing off places. Like he’s weighing something that you can’t really place. He ends up listing some places that catch your attention. Each of them has some wonderful art museums and it piques your curiosity. You try to look just politely interested, commenting on how he’s lucky to be able to travel as extensively as he seems to. He plays it off with a vague comment about being fortunate with help from his family. It’s the kind of thing that you know passes on a first date. It’s not appropriate to mention money on a first date. So, that would be fine, if it didn’t also make you curious about who this man really was. After all, your art thief being well connected through family would definitely make sense.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, you try to enjoy it. Not that it’s hard to do. Wonwoo is actually a lot of fun to be around. The conversation flows easily and you’re able to connect on a lot of shared interests. At least, interests that you pretend to have for the sake of this mission. But, it feels like he might also be pretending on some of his interests. He’s just a little too calm and put together. A little too quick with his answers. A little too rehearsed with his comments. Maybe you wouldn’t think twice if you weren’t doing the same. 

By the time you finish the main course, you’re pretty sure that you managed to stumble into a date with the exact person that you’re here looking for based on his stories. It may have been a guess before. It feels nearly for sure  now. He mentions how you have to visit Japan when the cherry blossoms are blooming, which sounds stunning. He mentions Oktoberfest in Munich and how he barely remembers anything from that trip. Then there's the ice festival in China, Nordlysfestivalen in Norway, and a few other locations that sound beautiful. They also have one thing in common. Each place is also on your list for stolen art around the time of the events. 

Once you finish dessert, you’re making a decision that you know you should really clear with someone else before making. Sure, you’re pretty sure that Wonwoo is the art thief. And yes, it’s true that keeping an eye on him is in your best interest. One way to do that is to continue with the date. Yet, you’re not stopping to check in with Seungcheol. You’re not analyzing the pros and cons of doing this. After giving Seungcheol a vague update about a lead and promising you’ll have more information later on, he should be the first person you call. He’s not swept up in the atmosphere of a foreign city with a gorgeous stranger. No, you don’t do any of that. You’re just agreeing to go back to his room with him without a second thought. He’s painfully hot and you’re incredibly attracted to him, which is wildly unprofessional. But, you’re not sure you care. At least for the night. You can figure it all out later.

Wonwoo is quietly confident without being cocky. His gaze is so penetrating that it feels like he’s undressing you without it being slimy. He can hold a conversation about seemingly anything, but he’s also just as interested in what you have to say. In fact, you have his attention the whole night, regardless of anything else going on. It’s a little overwhelming to have someone so focused on you. But, when it feels a little overwhelming, he makes a perfectly timed, slightly sarcastic joke that makes you laugh harder than you should. The smile you wear all throughout the date is genuine. You’re actually enjoying yourself so much that you’re not sure you want it to end. Life has never felt so simultaneously complicated and easy.

Wonwoo’s lips are hot on yours as he cages you against the door of his hotel room. That intensity you saw all dinner reappears and you feel like you might burn under his touch. He’s so in control. You’re still not entirely sure how you wound up here, but you’re not really trying to think too hard about it. The fact that he’s almost definitely the art thief becomes an issue for future-you the second he kisses you like it’s your last day on Earth. It’s not like he knows you’re tracking his movements and it isn’t exactly a bad thing to keep a closer eye on him. Nor is it the first time you’ve done something like this. It is the first time you’ve done it without thought, though, and genuinely been interested in the man you let seduce you.

He has his body pressed against yours with his arms on either side of you so there really is nowhere to go. It’s kind of hot and you’re not even pretending to be turned on. A definite bonus. Your hands quickly undo his belt so that you can pull the edges of his shirt out. The moment your hands make contact with his skin, he pulls away and hisses. They’re likely cold, not that you care. It gives you the chance to catch his lower lip between your teeth. You watch his eyes darken with lust as you run your hands up his back, scratching down lightly. 

“Just who do you think is in control here, baby?” His voice is so low in your ear that it makes you swallow hard. Everything about the endearment sounds sarcastic and it shouldn’t work, but you’re only human. Then he nips at your earlobe and you actually moan. 

“What are you going to do about it?” you challenge. It feels like a lot of heat between you. If your head were clearer, you might consider that it feels like two people who know they shouldn’t be fucking. Almost like he’s punishing you a little, which he might want to, given why you’re here.

“That’s a dangerous question,” he warns you. 

“Afraid I can’t handle it?” you ask and watch the way it nearly breaks his composure. You press forward into him, pulling him down so his ear is by your mouth now. Barely raise your voice above a whisper. “I’m not that fragile. I can handle a little pain.” 

That seems to set him off. You’re worried for a second when he pulls away, but that disappears as you watch his nimble fingers rapidly undoing the buttons on his shirt. He casts it aside and looks back at you. 

“I want you stripped naked and on the bed,” he commands. 

You’re not typically in the habit of taking commands but something about him makes you want to listen. Even if you want to challenge him a little. He turns his back and you do strip down. Mostly. You climb onto the bed wearing only your panties, legs spread open and waiting for him. When he turns around, you miss the flare of his nostrils at your defiance looking at his muscles. For someone so unassuming, he was certainly in good shape. 

“Is this your idea of naked?” he questions.

It’s funny, since he’s still got his boxer briefs on, though they leave little to the imagination. You can already see that he’s getting hard from the lead up. 

“I thought I’d leave that honor for you,” you say, injecting as much innocence as you can muster into every word.

Wonwoo looks at you for another long second before climbing onto the bed and getting between your legs. He pushes them further open and you bite down on your lip. 

“You don’t get to muffle those moans from me, sweetheart,” he teases, running a hand up the inside of your thigh.

“Or what?” you challenge again.

He raises an eyebrow at you and pulls his hand away from your thigh. You’re about to whine when he brings it back in a sharp slap. 

“Shit,” you hiss. 

“You liked that, didn’t you?” he asks. You nod with big eyes. “Use your words.”

“Fuck, yes, I liked it,” you rush out the second his finger traces a light line up your clothed cunt. 

“I can tell,” he snarks. “Just tell me if it’s too much.”

“It won’t be,” you insist. He pulls his hand away and looks at you surprisingly soft for a second.

“Tell me if it is,” he repeats.

“I will,” you promise. 

“Good,” he says and hooks his fingers inside the band of your panties, pulling them down your legs and casting them aside in one motion. “That’s better.” 

In another surprise, Wonwoo doesn’t dive right into your cunt the way you expect him to given how frenzied everything has been so far. Instead, he trails kisses from your knee up your inner thigh. Pausing occasionally to nip into the skin before running his tongue over the mark to soothe it. You’re writhing on the bed by the time his breath ghosts across your cunt. The chuckle is low and deep as you squirm when he moves to your other thigh. You’re going to die before he even touches you. 

“Jesus fuck, Wonwoo, if you don’t start eating me out…” you start, a hand winding into his hair.

He pops up and glares at you. “You’ll what? Did you already forget who’s in charge?” 

“I’ll…” you start, before cutting off with a sharp, “FUCK!”

He’s still got his eyes on you when his thumb runs quickly through your folds to press against your clit. There’s barely any movement but it anchors you in place. “That’s what I thought.” 

His kisses up your other thigh are much sloppier with a thumb still in place. It only makes you squirm more, searching for some kind of relief. When he finally gets to your lips, you expect he’s going to tease you again. You’re wrong. Again. His tongue dives into your pussy while his other hand keeps you spread open. This man knows what he’s doing and it’s immediately more than you’re expecting. You can’t stop your legs from snapping closed to box him in. That is, until he pulls his hands off you to spread your legs wide again, giving him the best access to you. It’s clear that he’s in charge and he wants you to know it. 

It’s everything you can do not to thrash around, but Wonwoo seems to be ready to help there. He’s got a hand on your stomach anchoring you down to the bed. You’re not even sure how he’s got enough hands to move them along your body the way he seems to. Without warning, he moves his mouth up to pay attention to your clit. And he doesn’t give you a break, sliding two fingers into you and immediately scissoring them open. He sets a brutal pace, curling his fingers to hit you where he seems to know you need him on some of the passes. 

“Fuck, Wonwoo, oh my god, fuck,” you scream out.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” he sneers at you from between your legs.

“Yes, fuck,” you moan. “Your fingers, oh my god.” 

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans.

In the next moment, you’re coming so hard you squirt over those amazing fingers of his. Your vision whites out around the edges and your toes are curling. It’s all you can do to catch your breath as Wonwoo’s fingers pump through the high. 

“I don’t remember the last time I came that hard,” you admit.

“We’re not done yet,” he shares and the tone of his voice has you nearly clenching your legs together. “Turn over. Get on your hands and knees.” 

“So bossy,” you say with a roll of your eyes. You turn over anyway, though, and put your ass in the air. 

“This is a really good fucking view,” he says. You feel the bed dip when he gets back in place after removing his boxers. 

Wonwoo has one hand on your hip and the other is running up your back to press you down further. To help you get that perfect arch of your back. You wiggle your ass at him and are rewarded with a stinging smack. Your moan is muffled by the pillow, so you turn your head to the side. Already know he wants to hear you. When he smacks your other ass check, you nearly scream out.

“That’s it, I want to hear you,” he encourages. 

“Please, Wonwoo, just fuck me already,” you beg. 

“One orgasm wasn’t enough?” he asks and you can hear the cockiness in his voice. Bringing a ringing smack down on your ass again. You scream out at the sting. 

“No, I want you to split me open,” you whine. In any other situation you might be embarrassed by the admission, but not now. Not with him. Not when it’s so clearly turning him on. 

“Greedy little thing,” he comments. His fingers press into your cunt again and you nearly yelp. 

There’s no time to adjust when Wonwoo removes his fingers and immediately lines himself up at your entrance. With one snap of his hips, he’s fully inside you and you’re hissing. He’s bigger than you were guessing, even with the outline in his boxers. And he doesn’t give you a break as he starts fucking you hard. All you can hear is the sound of his skin slapping against yours and the mingled moans from both of you. You’re sensitive from both the pace and the earlier orgasm. Your legs feel like they would collapse under you if they could. 

As if the pace isn’t enough, Wonwoo snakes an arm around you to reach for your clit, rubbing circles into it at the same pace as his thrusts. You can tell he’s nowhere near close, but you’re about to lose control again and you’re not sure how to stop it.

“Fuck, Wonwoo, slower, I’m going to - fuck!” you whine out. 

“You gonna come again? So soon, baby?” he taunts. 

“I can’t - fuck, please,” you beg. “I’m so close.” 

“I want you to  make a mess of my dick the same way you made a mess of my fingers,” Wonwoo directs. 

“But you haven’t…” you start and Wonwoo removes his hand from your clit. You cry out at the loss until his other hand grabs your hair to yank you back against his chest. When it’s clear you’re not going to move, his hand moves from your hair to your throat.

“I want you to come for me. Right now. Show me how good I feel inside that tight pussy,” he directs.

It’s one of the most surprising reactions, the way your body immediately responds to him. He’s got you coming just as hard as the first time and he doesn’t give you a chance to second guess any of it. As the shocks rip through your body, you notice that Wonwoo does slow down his thrusts. Doesn’t pull out of you, though. You collapse forward and arch your back again so it’s easier to meet Wonwoo’s continued pace.

“You’re so good at listening,” he praises.

“Not usually,” you mumble into the pillow through the haze. 

“I must be special,” he says as he lazily fucks into you.

“Jesus Wonwoo, you can fuck me. I know you haven’t finished yet,” you grumble.

“In a rush to go somewhere?” he teases. 

“No, but it must be…well, I don’t know. Hard for you,” you mumble into the sheets. 

“I’ve got excellent control,” Wonwoo says, all confidence. “I’m not in a rush to end this.” 

Despite your instance, he continues to lazily snap his hips into you. It’s so slow, way too slow. He reaches down to pull you up against his chest again, still keeping the pace. His hands are on your breasts, squeezing them to anchor you to him. He rolls one of your nipples roughly between his fingers to see what he gets as a reaction. Your moan seems to spur him on further. Each time pain shoots through some part of your body, it only seems to turn you on more. It’s easy to forget why you agreed to this in the first place. 

For all the demands, Wonwoo is actually very attentive as well. He peppers kisses from behind your ear all the way down your shoulder and back, paying special attention to the areas that seem to get the best response from you. He’s also careful with where he nips you, never biting hard enough to leave a mark somewhere that couldn’t be easily hidden. The entire experience has been so all-consuming that there isn’t space for any other thoughts in your head. It’s just him and this hotel room that’s entirely too fancy. 

He must feel that you’re starting to get worked up because he pushes you back down into the bed. His pace finally picks up again, which is good because you’re sprinting towards being too sore to actually enjoy it anymore. The pace gets much faster again, not nearly as rhythmic as before. His fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts. It’s the first time it actually feels like he’s losing control. 

“Oh my god,” you cry out. “I’m gonna come again. Oh my god!” 

“Me too,” he groans through a stuttered breath. “Fuck, where can I come?” 

“I don’t care,” you cry out. You’re about to have your third orgasm. “On my back, on my ass, I don’t fucking care, just come with me.” 

You press a finger to your clit to try and help you over that last bit to tumble over the edge so that Wonwoo can chase his own relief. The second your body starts shaking, you feel him pull out. He must pump his cock a few times because there’s a slight delay before you feel something hit your back. You feel a little proud with how much cum you feel on your skin, like maybe he was a little more affected by you than he wanted to let on. 

As soon as Wonwoo lays down next to you on the bed, you also collapse onto your side. The bed is soft, but your knees are still a little sore from spending so much time on them. Wonwoo immediately pulls you into him so that he can kiss you breathless. His hand is behind your head, keeping you from pulling away. The chemistry between the two of you is intense. Not something you were prepared for. It’s clear that if one of you doesn’t stop, then you’ll be fucking him again. And your body needs a break.

“I should get cleaned up,” you say when you pull back, more than slightly breathless. 

“Let me just get cleaned up a little and then you can take a shower,” he says. 

He presses a kiss to your temple and then gets up off the bed. There’s no point in pretending you aren’t watching him as he walks to the bathroom. He’s all lean lines and unexpected muscles. Nobody should be allowed to look the way he does, to look so good that Greek gods would be jealous. And yet here he is. 

A few minutes later, he emerges from the bathroom and arches an eyebrow at you. There’s a towel slung low around his hips in a way that should be a sin. “You’re going to make me think that you want more.”

“I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to stand,” you joke as an answer.

It surprises you a little when he comes over to the bed and helps you up. That is, until you see the way his eyes take you in. There’s nothing soft there, only predatory. Like you’re a meal he wants to return to. Your brain still feels a little slow to catch up, but registers something like he’s analyzing you. Still, he helps you get to the bathroom, points out the toiletries, and then disappears back into the room. 

By the time you’re clean and wrapped in the softest bathrobe you’ve ever worn, Wonwoo is sitting at the table wearing shorts and his glasses with nothing else. He’s scrolling absently through his phone and picking at some snacks that hadn’t been there when you had gone to shower. You didn’t think you’d been in there long, so it’s surprising he was able to get something up so quickly. When he notices you’re out of the bathroom, he indicates the food.

“I ordered us some snacks and they were happy to get them up here quickly,” he says. 

You take a seat across from him a little apprehensively. This is the part that you hadn’t really considered. How do you excuse yourself from the situation in a way that ensures you’ll see him again? It’s not that you want to have a repeat, though there’s part of your brain that is not opposed like you should be. It’s just…well with the room and the toiletries and the fast room service, you’re sure that this is the man you’re looking for. Which, admittedly, might make things a little complicated. But, you do have a job to do.

“I guess I am hungry,” you admit and reach for something.

“Glad you’re not going to make me eat alone,” he muses. 

“You already paid for dinner and drinks, I wasn’t expecting more treats,” you admit. 

“Seems fitting after the mindblowing sex,” he says and watches you, a clear glint to his eyes. “I can’t get over how insanely hot it was to watch you squirt for me.” 

Your cheeks redden without your permission. He’s so free with admitting it even with the moment having passed. Maybe he’s more trouble than you realized. 

“Seems like I wasn’t the only one to enjoy myself if my back is any indication,” you toss out. 

“I really enjoyed the way you told me I could come on your back,” he shares.

“And my ass,” you remind him.

“I got that too,” he reminds you. “And what a nice ass it is.” 

“Careful or I’ll ask you to blow my back out again,” you say, voice slightly betraying that you’re affected by his very presence. 

“That makes me think you were going to head out and never see me again,” Wonwoo ventures.

“I haven’t decided yet,” you say, trying to be coy.

Wonwoo fixes you with a stare that you can’t quite decipher. It nearly makes you squirm under the intensity. Is he just like that? The kind of person that does everything with that burning look in his eyes. 

“Let me ask you something, Agent,” he begins and your mouth runs dry. You do everything you can not to let him know that you’re a second away from losing it. “Do you fuck all your targets? Or am I special?”

The way he smirks at you lets you know that he knows he’s onto something. Knows exactly who you are. Or maybe who you work for, at least. He’s made you and you’re not entirely sure you’re safe anymore. You’re also not entirely sure what the best move is. Probably take half a second too long to decide if his face is any indication. 

“Agent? Target?” you laugh out. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Don’t you?” he presses. “Really, we shouldn’t be lying to each other so early in the relationship.” 

“I’m here doing…” you start.

“Research, yes. That’s what you said. And you almost had me when it took so long to run into you again. Your Spanish is flawless. It doesn’t sound like someone that learned at some secret agency. You’re much better at languages than any of the other agents that have come after me. And waiting so long to meet me again, genius. It really had me second guessing who you were,” he says. “But then, you made a mistake. Do you know what it was?” 

“Going on a date with someone that’s clearly a little delusional?” you ventured. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh, I think you do,” he says, confident. “I’ll tell you where you fucked up. It was dinner tonight. No, not something you said or did because you were shockingly smooth with it. It’s that you agreed to it at all. I suggested a place no researcher would ever go to. Because it used to be the site of a religious monument, but it fell into disrepair. A local crime family took it over. Only locals bother going there, but no researcher ever would.” 

Your heart sinks. Through all your research and all your planning, you knew that you would never be able to get everything. There just wasn’t the time. So, you had to hope that the person you were chasing wouldn’t notice any small missteps. Or would write them off with your cover story. What you had not planned for was this. In all your careful consideration, you had not planned to go on a date with the art thief himself. He had you and he knew it. It’s hard to see the right path out of this. 

It had been a gamble to get close to him the way you had. A gamble that you questioned taking and took anyway. A gamble you took without clearing it with Seungcheol. Usually, getting close to a target this way, you talk to him to make sure that he thinks it’s a good idea too. Make sure that this kind of move will fit the profile for the person that you’re chasing. This time, you’re flying blind. You had gotten a little ahead of yourself. A little sloppy. This isn’t the type of work you’re known for. It’s not the reason that you were sent down to Buenos Aires to chase him on a secret mission. 

“One mistake,” you sigh with a shake of your head. 

“Yeah, just the one,” he agrees. 

“So why did you invite me back here?” you ask. 

Wonwoo shrugs. “I’m curious about you.” 

“Curious? You risked inviting me back to your actual hotel room over curiosity?” you ask, looking around. 

“Who’s to say this is actually my room?” he says with another casual shrug. You clock it on his face as soon as he says it. 

“No, it is your actual room. The comfort, the speed of the room service, the way things are laid out. It’s not staged. This is just where you’re staying,” you observe. That makes him smile in a way you’re not expecting.

“Good eye,” he agrees. “Now for my question. Do you fuck all your targets?” 

“No,” you say shortly. 

“Why even agree to go on a date with me, then?” he presses. 

You sigh and sit further back into your chair. Take a piece of fruit from the table to buy yourself some time. “I don’t know. It wasn’t a good decision, obviously. I wasn’t even sure you were my target. There was just…something about you.” 

“So you’ve never fucked a target before? I’m special?” he asks with a smirk.

“I didn’t say that,” you respond. “I just don’t usually fuck a target without clearing it first.” 

“Who knows you’re here with me?” he asks.

“Nobody,” you answer. It’s too honest. 

You’re not sure if you should have admitted that and even less sure if he’ll believe you. It is the truth, though. Nobody in the world knows where you are right now. It’s kind of a crossroads for you because Wonwoo isn’t dangerous. He’s never been violent, as far as your information shows. Despite being physically separated from your bag, you’re not exactly unarmed. And yes, he does look like he’s in shape, but you’re still confident that you can take him if it comes to that. Once again, your mind is running through a million calculations a second as you realize you definitely should have talked to Seungcheol. 

“I’m trying to figure you out,” he admits.

“How’s that going?” you ask sarcastically. 

“Not as well as it would normally,” he says. It’s something else that’s honest between the two of you. More honest than you’re expecting. “Most people are too easy to figure out. It’s boring. Nothing about you makes sense to me.” 

“And what about me is so difficult for you to figure out?” you ask, still lacing your words with sarcasm. 

“You know, despite me figuring out that you’re after me, you’re actually the best agent that they’ve ever sent. You fit into your role seamlessly. You’re just the right amount of charming. You blend into your surroundings because you don’t try to do anything to dull yourself. Against my better judgment, I am impressed. And yet, you still decided to come on the date. You’re clearly the best they have and you’re still here,” he says, gaze soft but analytical on you. 

“I’m going to keep my mouth shut,” you say carefully. 

“Why?” he asks. 

“You disarm me,” you admit. “I know so much about you and yet, here I am. Unwilling to leave even though you know what I’m here to do.” 

“Do you still want to turn me in?” he asks.

“Are you going to disappear into the wind the second I walk out that door?” you counter. 

He regards you for a moment. A moment too long, really. It makes you squirm in your seat. This isn’t going at all how you would have imagined. “No.” 

“Why?” you ask.

“Because I’m waiting to see how this whole thing plays out. You haven’t said that you want to turn me in. I can see you’re conflicted about it. So, I’m going to see how this plays out,” he answers. He holds up a hand when you open your mouth. Seems to predict you’re going to ask why again. “Because…okay, look. I know this is really weird. I know you’re here to try and find me. But, you’re actually interesting and that sex was fucking good. So, I don’t know, call me cocky. I’m not ready to let you walk away just yet.”

“If I can walk at all,” you grumble. 

“You were walking just fine from the bathroom. Maybe I need to really make sure you can’t walk,” he muses. 

The eye contact is too much and you turn your head away. You’re positive he’s onto you, especially when you carefully cross your legs. It’s just that he’s right, isn’t he? You can sit here and pretend that you only slept with him to keep him close while you tried to figure him out. Can say that it was all just part of the job and you didn’t enjoy it. Can say that you wanted to take a different approach since nobody else has been able to catch him.

That’s also very clearly a lie.

Seungcheol likes to know what his agents are up to, particularly when it comes to agents like you that deal with secret missions. Since you started as friends before he had to retire to his desk, he’s also very protective of you. He hates it when you suggest using your charm on a target like this. So, no, this isn’t just another target. This is something else entirely. You have to admit that you actually enjoyed it. That you would like to do it again. That you actually don’t even want to leave his room because you’re not convinced you’ll ever see him again. Which is really stupid, isn’t it? You should not care if you never see him again. Unless it means that you failed your mission. That’s not why you’re worrying about never seeing him again, though. 

Just as you’re about to open your mouth and say something else, your phone chirps from your bag. It’s a sign. You know it is. The sound is tied to Seungcheol. Which means he’s looking for a check-in. Which means you’re late, something that never happens with you. You’re standing up to get your phone before even realizing it. Wonwoo’s eyes track your movements. 

Cheol: hope you’re enjoying your trip! Send pictures when you can

It’s code. Sent through a normal message so that it doesn’t look suspicious. And so that it gives you the chance to ignore it if you’re not in a place where you can answer him. You don’t even hear Wonwoo approach as you’re mentally calculating how to respond to this.

“Is that code?” he asks and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of his low voice by your ear. God, nobody should have a voice like his.

“It’s my handler, I guess you could say,” you answer.

“Are you going to call him?” he asks.

“He’ll worry if I don’t,” you say and realize it’s true. 

Wonwoo steps around you to grab his own phone and then returns to his position at the table. “I’ll be quiet if you want to call.” 

There’s something kind of hot about how he says it. Like he doesn’t actually want to let you leave. Or like it’s an order to stay. You’re not sure if you’re reading too much into it. When you look over at him, his eyes are on his phone, but his lips turn up in a smile. He knows your eyes are on him and he’s still playing a game. A game that you just might lose, for the first time in your life. 

With a sigh, you shake your head and just fire off a text in response. You don’t have it in you to call Seungcheol and you also aren’t exactly sure what to say. He’s always been able to read your tone like it’s his own. After telling him you might have a lead, he’s going to know something is wrong. This is going to be a problem.

You: it’s been amazing, i’m loving each new thing i get to see in person. I’ll have some pictures to show you tomorrow!

It’s a signal that you’re not going to have anything new to share with him tonight and not to contact you again until you check in the next day. You’re not really sure if this is the right decision, but you need time to clear your head. This is the only way that you can see getting that. It’s too hard to think about making a decision when Wonwoo is still half naked and looking at you like you’re prey. At least you can assume that you could take him if you needed to. Thankfully, he’s not really looking at you like that kind of prey. 

“I’ll call him tomorrow,” you say.

“And what will you do tonight?” Wonwoo asks, looking up at you.

“I’m all yours, at least for tonight,” you say. 

You’re surprised the look he gives you doesn’t melt you into the floor. “I can work with that.”

The next day brings more confusion than the night before. At least you’re back in your own hotel room and out of the intoxicating orbit of Wonwoo. The downside is that you couldn’t leave his bed without agreeing to lunch plans with him. Both of you wanted to get breakfast together, but hadn’t been able to get out of bed in time for that. You turned down his offer to just buy you new clothes so you wouldn’t have to leave his sight. Thankfully, he does seem to understand that you need a minute to process everything in the last 24 hours. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind.

That’s not what you need to focus on right now, though. You don’t have any more messages from Seungcheol, which is what you expected. Still, you need to call him before he doesn’t something to check on you. Like sending Chan to your hotel with some made up story. You don’t want to put anyone in that position. You also don’t really know what you’re going to say. When you left Wonwoo’s hotel room, he made it clear: the choice was yours. He wants to see you again and he also knows that he’s asking a lot. Too much, probably. So, he’s giving you a choice. If you show up at lunch to meet him, then you’re at least willing to get to know him a little more before deciding anything. If you stand him up, then he’ll know you can’t agree to that. It’s a major gamble for him because you know what he looks like and his real name. You have more than you need to put an end to years of his hard work. 

Nothing in your life has prepared you for this. Not really. Sure, you train for missions and you perfect your skills. But, emotions have never been part of it. It’s always been so easy to separate your humanity from your job. Kind of like you just switch of anything that makes you normal and go into mission-mode. You once compared it to being an actor because you’re just playing a part. None of it is real and none of it is really your decision. This is uncharted territory for you.

Once you catch your breath, you pull a device out of the secret pocket in your bag so that you can connect it to your phone. It’ll scramble the signals and make the line secure so that you can call Seungcheol. It’s a bit of normalcy that you’re craving in the madness around you. 

“Finally, I’ve been worried,” Seungcheol answers. 

“I answered you right away,” you point out.

“Yes, to say that you would not be calling me,” Seungcheol presses and you sigh.

“Because I don’t have anything new to report,” you say without even realizing when you made the decision. The lie flows so easily. “I’ve been cataloging everything on everyone I see at the museums and galleries. Cross checking the names coming into the country. Surveying anyone that sticks out as I check things out.” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Seungcheol cuts in.

“I’m here to find him, though,” you point out. You’re not sure why you’re doing this. 

“I know,” he says. “But, I’d rather you be safe.”

“I’m always safe,” you lie. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to pick up on it. 

“I know, but I also know you’re competitive,” he says. “Remember, we’ve already sent no less than 6 teams to find him and they’ve all failed.” 

“I don’t fail, though. That’s why you sent me,” you say. You’re not even sure why you’re arguing with him. 

“Just be careful. What happened with that lead you thought you had?” he asks. 

“A dead end,” you say with a practiced sigh. “Does the intelligence say he’s still in the city?” 

“I can’t imagine he’d leave without taking anything,” Seungcheol says. 

“Good point,” you say. “I’ll keep looking.” 

“Do you want me to send back-up?” he asks.

“It’s your mission,” you say noncommittally. “If you think it’ll help and we can still fly under the radar, then by all means.” 

“I was thinking of Chan since he’s still kind of in the area,” he says.

“Ah, yeah, I’m not sure,” you admit.

“You’re right, I know. I do want you to formally meet him soon, though. But, definitely not mid-mission,” he agrees. “Just be careful and keep me updated. If it goes on too long, we’ll just pull you. Maybe he got spooked.” 

“Yeah, that works,” you agree. 

“See you when you’re back,” he says.

“See you,” you answer and hang up.

It feels awful to lie to him, of all people. He’s one of the only people that you’ve ever trusted in your life. The only one that knows exactly who you are, knows all your demons, and still accepts you. He knows just how many people are six feet under because of you, knows the ways you’ve had to use your body, knows the lies you’ve told and the people you’ve hurt, both physically and emotionally. He knows all your scars and he accepts it. Because you know all his scars, too. It sucks to lie to him.

Sometimes they say that indecision is still a decision. That’s where you are now. You can say that you haven’t made a decision about what you’re going to do with Wonwoo. You can say that you’re waiting for more information. But, in a way, you’ve made at least one decision in his favor. You didn’t tell Seungcheol that your lead turned out to be the art thief himself. No. Instead, you’re showering and getting ready to meet him again, about to make yet another decision. Maybe you were always going to agree to lunch rather than stand him up. He’s got a lot to lose here too. It’s far more complicated than it should be. 

Your head is a little in the clouds by the time you leave your room to head down to the lobby and out into the comfortable winter air. If you spend a little more time than strictly necessary making sure you look nice, well that’s your business. The only drawback is that you don’t have Wonwoo’s phone number, at your own insistence, and so he may think you decided to stand him up. That worry lasts as long as it takes for you to reach the lobby. That’s where you see him, sitting casually in an armchair with his eyes locked on you. There’s no reason for the way your heart skips over such a simple outfit. It’s just a t-shirt and a leather jacket. Why are you nearly losing your mind?

“What are you doing here?” you ask and he gives you the most charming smile you’ve ever seen. It probably even puts your own smile to shame.

“I took a chance that you would decide in my favor,” he says and stands up.

“Confident,” you say, “but still, I was supposed to meet you at the restaurant since I hadn’t decided.”

“It’s a date. I’m picking you up,” he says and surprises you by placing a gentle kiss on your cheek . 

“Isn’t that chivalrous of you,” you comment while trying to convince your heart to stop beating out of your chest. 

“Shall we?” he asks and motions for you to walk ahead of him.

The chivalry doesn’t stop at picking you up at your hotel, unfortunately for you. He opens the door and then gently takes your hand. There’s a hand on your back when you step around him. He puts himself between you and any traffic. It’s the best anyone has ever treated you and you hate that you’re even noticing that. Now, you’re thinking that you should have stood him up for an entirely different reason.

Lunch feels like the most normal thing in the world. The real reason for being in this beautiful city doesn’t come up at all. Instead, you talk about life and interests. The type of music and food that you like. What you do in your free time. It’s exactly what you imagine first or second dates to be like. Not that you have much experience with actually dating. 

It only gets deeper from there with Wonwoo telling you more about himself. Not about how he really makes money, but it certainly helps you understand how he got involved and how he stays under the radar. As it turns out, he comes from a lot of money. He doesn’t say it in a way that sounds like he’s bragging. It makes sense, though. Everything about him screams old money, which fits the profile you put together. The way he carries himself, the way he speaks, the way he dresses. It doesn’t feel like someone that’s made his money from stealing art. You learn that he’s involved in a lot of charities, which surprises you a bit. You also learn that he sponsors students in a video game design program in his home country. There’s so much more to him than stealing art. In fact, that seems to be such a small part of who he is. It’s more than a little surprising, which is odd since it’s usually so hard to surprise you. It’s clear that he’s grown up around art. All this time and he’s just been hiding in plain sight. 

The two of you sit at lunch for so long that the servers finally, very politely, indicate that it’s time to leave. It’s never been this easy to sit with someone in your entire life. It’s a level of comfort that you should absolutely not feel with someone like Wonwoo. But, you can’t help it. You can’t help the way you feel around him. Can’t really fight the feelings that keep threatening to bubble up. 

The roads aren’t nearly as busy when you walk back towards your hotel. Even though it’s a tourist city, it still quiets down in the mid-afternoon when the local businesses close down. The tourists seem to use the time to also relax or take advantage of certain monuments being quieter. It lends itself to the comfortable silence that settles around you and Wonwoo on the walk. 

When you reach the lobby, you turn to face Wonwoo and your breath catches a little. The sun in July isn’t as strong, but it still provides a backlight like he’s some sort of dark angel. Which sounds insane, even if your head. There have been so many beautiful people in your life, yet this is the one that has you forgetting how to put words together. It’s like he knows exactly what you’re thinking when he steps into your space and takes your face in his hands. He kisses you so fiercely that you forget your name. It’s the kind of kiss that doesn’t look like much from the outside, but changes your entire world on the inside. 

“Well how am I supposed to go back to my room and leave you now?” you ask against his lips when he pulls back. You can feel the smile on his own lips when he kisses you again.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he whispers. 

“No,” you whisper back and kiss him again.

“I don’t want you to leave me,” he says. 

That makes you pull back sharply so that you can search his face. Does he realize how that sounds? It makes you wonder if he means more than just tonight. What is he trying to do to you? How many ways can one man make you reconsider everything you stand for? Nothing about his face looks smug or even insincere. In fact, he looks the way you imagine you feel. A little smitten and a lot unsure of what to do next. 

“And what would I do instead?” you ask, though you have an idea where he’s going.

“Go pack a bag of some of your things and come stay with me for the next few days,” he requests. It’s just bordering on a demand, even though it’s clearly your call. 

“Are you crazy? We barely know each other,” you protest without much heat. 

“What better way to get to know each other?” he counters. He grabs your hips, pulling you close to his body so he can wrap his arms around you. “And think about it. I can see you’re still not sure what you want to do. If you’re with me, you’ll know where I am at all times. I can’t get into any trouble while you’re still deciding.” 

“I suppose you do make a point,” you concede. 

“I have never done anything this reckless in my life. So, I’m just asking for a chance,” he shares.

It’s a little insane for him to say this is the most reckless thing he’s done in his life. Surely, stealing art is crazier than this. Which would make you lean towards not believing him if it weren’t for the voice in the back of your head. That little voice that agrees with him. You’ve put your life in danger more times than you can count, but saying yes to the man in front of you feels like the most dangerous idea yet. Maybe it’s because you know it’s not your body you’re putting on the line, but your heart. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what he means too. That he’s never taken the chance to chase someone like this. Or maybe you just want to believe that you might be special. 

All you can do is nod at him and watch the smile that breaks across his face. It’s honest, unguarded. It’s real. There’s nothing behind it except genuine happiness that you agreed to spend the next few days with him. Before you can second guess your decision, you give him one more kiss and nearly run up to your room. 

Being separated from him gives you the chance to actually catch your breath. To focus on what you need to bring with you. Since, apparently, you’re not going to reconsider if this is actually a good idea or not. You know you should. You know that this is another one of those moments that you chalk up to indecision when your actual decision could not be any louder. Again, you’re reminded of what you’re doing here. What you’re supposed to be doing here. This man is your enemy. He’s the person you’re supposed to be arresting and bringing into The Agency to face sentencing. You’re a good agent. You always put the mission ahead of yourself, your thoughts, your beliefs, or even your relationships. This isn’t a version of yourself that you recognize and it should stop you in your tracks.

Instead, you decide which dress to pack away and what pair of shoes looks best. For the first time in your life, you’re diving in first and asking questions later. Or never. 

It shouldn’t be surprising that you end up naked in Wonwoo’s bed minutes after crossing the threshold to his hotel room. Not with how things have gone so far for the two of you. Yet, what is surprising is that the sex is even better than the night before. You’re catching your breath, tucked into Wonwoo’s side, body tacky with sweat but so impossibly happy. His hand that’s around you absently traces patterns into your skin. It’s honestly like you’ve known him for years. It’s insane to realize how comfortable you feel when that’s not something you ever experience. Not like this. 

It’s also shocking to you how much this man wants to share with you. He carries on your chats from lunch as if he hadn’t just fucked you into his mattress yet again. Like this means more than some dirty sex holed up in a hotel in a foreign city. Makes you feel like you might actually mean something to him, which is a very dangerous feeling to have. Both of you know that this can’t mean more than what it is. At least, you think you know that and you think he might too. But, there’s a clear understanding that you won’t talk about it. Not now, at least. 

Wonwoo decides that he wants to take you somewhere fancy for dinner. The type of place that you would never consider going to while on a mission. Though, you’re always prepared for anything. When you were packing up your things in your hotel room, you even grabbed a couple nicer dresses. All they needed was a quick steam, which the hotel staff had been only too happy to accommodate. Any protests about it being too much fell on deaf ears. He was set and the two of you were going to a famous restaurant. All you had to do was shower and get ready. Your dress would be ready by the time you needed it. 

It’s clear you don’t really understand the limits to Wonwoo’s wealth, if there even are any, when you arrive at the restaurant. It’s the kind of place where you usually need reservations well in advance. It’s not the kind of place you can just show up at. Despite that, the host leads you back to a semi-private area where you’re tucked into a corner booth. It’s clearly one of the nicest tables in the place. You think you catch Wonwoo sliding the host something when he shakes their hand before he turns back to you. All thoughts go out the window when he slides in right next to you, not leaving any space. 

Wonwoo’s Spanish really is very remedial and so you help him decipher the menu and order. It gives you pause when there aren’t prices anywhere on the menu, but he’s quick to wave off any concerns. Insists that it’s his treat. You don’t want to think that’s something you could get used to. It isn’t like you have any real trouble affording nice things. Your salary is high and you don’t have much to spend money on. This is a different level, though. It’s even different from the times you’ve gone on a mission and charmed your target. That always feels temporary. Like you’re something of an imposter. You don’t get those feelings here with Wonwoo.

Letting him pick out which outfit you wore may have been a mistake. You discover this once you get your drinks and the waiter leaves you alone. His hand rests possessively on your thigh, against the bare skin of your leg exposed by the slit in your dress. His body is angled towards you and he’s encouraging you to continue telling your story. But, he has to know he’s distracting, too, with the way his hand slides further up your thigh. What started as arguably innocent ventures quickly into dangerous territory. 

“You were saying?” he prompts. His hand is inside the fabric of your dress now, keeping you from pressing your thighs together like you want to. 

“I, uh…” you stutter as he digs his hand into the soft flesh there. “Wonwoo, aren’t you worried?”

“About what?” he asks innocently.

“Getting caught,” you hiss and look down at your lap.

“No, sweetheart, I’m not worried,” he says and you glare at him, “because you’re going to be good for me and be quiet.”

“I don’t know…” you start and stop as soon as his pinky grazes along your entrance through your panties. “Fuck.” 

“Doesn’t seem like you actually want me to stop,” he points out.

“I, fuck, you know I don’t but there are people,” you say softly.

“I paid good money for this table. I don’t think we’ll be disturbed,” he tells you. 

“I…” you start. When he pulls his finger away, you nearly whine.

“I need to hear you say you want it,” he says.

“What?” you ask, a little louder than you intended.

“Use your words,” he directs and you glare.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, earning a chuckle out of him. 

“Not yet,” he retorts.

“Fine, yes. I want your fingers inside me here in this damn restaurant,” you say.

He’s expecting this answer. It’s written all over his face. This time, he doesn’t tease you. Doesn’t waste any time because you may not have much of it. He simply pushes your panties to the side and slides his first finger into you. The angle doesn’t make it easy but his fingers are long and slender, like they were built for something like this. It’s hard to keep from making a sound, so you try to do anything to distract yourself from the way he pumps into you. Or the way he adds a second finger so quickly. 

When you pick up your drink to take a sip from the straw, you watch his eyes on you. They seem to darken the second that you wrap your lips around the straw. His fingers pump into you even faster. And his lips are demanding on yours when you set the drink back down. You moan softly into his mouth without really considering if anyone is paying attention or if they can hear you. His tongue tangles with yours frantically while he tries to get you off right in that booth. 

This is new for you. You definitely didn’t think you would get so turned on by the fact that anyone could walk back over to see what you were doing. Anyone could hear the noises you’re making. Anyone could figure it out. When he feels that your pussy clenching around his fingers, he pulls away from the kiss. Leans his forehead against yours so that he can whisper filthy things in the space between you. Tells you how good you feel and how he loves watching you when you’re about to come. Moans about how tight you are. How pliant you are for him. Reminds you to be quiet. Tells you he can’t wait to taste you on his fingers. That’s what finally pushes you over the edge.

Your fingers grip the edge of the booth underneath you as you come hard and fast. He lazily guides you through it and then follows through by bringing his fingers to his lips. It’s so hot that you consider asking if you can just leave and go back to the room to be fucked properly. But, then your stomach rumbles and you think better of it. It’s only another few minutes before the first course arrives with a slightly knowing look from the waiter. After that first course, you excuse yourself to the bathroom to clean up, at least a little. You deem your panties ruined and just remove them, tucking them away into your bag. You’ll have to be a little more careful the rest of the night.

This dinner is somehow even better than the first and it has nothing to do with the place being expensive, though the food is definitely amazing. You also don’t think it really has anything to do with the way Wonwoo fingered you under the table. That’s definitely a first for you. Exhibitionism hasn’t been your thing before, but maybe he’s got you learning new things about yourself. It had only taken him a minute to realize that you weren’t wearing underwear anymore. It definitely took him another minute to regain his composure.

The thing that actually makes this dinner better than the first is the man across from you. With his walls down, the entire night just feels that much more. It’s one of the only times you’ve ever felt your own guard come down. It’s not smart and you don’t care. You think you probably look a little punch drunk to anyone that can see your table. Then, you meet Wonwoo’s eyes again and think he probably looks the same. You never really have the chance to enjoy dates, but even if you did, this would still probably top them all. It’s all the little things. The way Wonwoo carefully brushes a strand of hair out of your face. The way he offers you a bite off his own plate when you say it looks good. The way he brings your knuckles up to his lips and presses feather light kisses to them. 

“Are you going to insist on ordering dessert here too?” you ask after the main course. 

“I was thinking we might have dessert back in our room,” he says and you raise an eyebrow.

“Our room?” you question.

“Don’t test me,” he cautions. 

“I wouldn’t dare,” you say and lean into him to press a slow kiss to his cheek. Your hand brushes over his lap as a way to get closer.

“Is this you not testing me?” he asks when your hand brushes across his lap again.

“What? You can make me come on your fingers but I can’t tease you a little?” you ask innocently.

Wonwoo grabs your hand and anchors it on your own thigh. “We’re getting out of here and then you can show your appreciation however you want. We don’t need to give them more of a show.” 

It seems like it takes an eternity to pay the bill (which Wonwoo doesn’t let you see) and get a cab back to the hotel. The promise of something else simmers between you the entire time. Wonwoo keeps a hand on you the entire time. A hand on your lower back out of the restaurant, fingers intertwined with yours in the cab, an arm around you walking into the hotel. When you get into the elevator, he pulls you back against his chest as more people join. He masks it as affection and presses a kiss to your cheek, but you feel the desire beneath it. 

The moment you cross into the room, you slip out of your shoes and turn around to press a kiss to Wonwoo’s lips. The tension between the two of you is thick and it’s hard to remind yourself to come up for a breath. He overwhelms every one of your senses. There’s nothing but him in every corner of your brain when he kisses you like that. 

It’s almost embarrassing when he breaks the kiss and you chase his lips. “How about dessert?”

“I thought that was just your way of saying…” you start and he directs your attention to the table. There’s an assortment of fruit, whipped cream, and melted chocolate there. 

You’re a little hesitant when he starts to walk to the table. It just feels incredibly intimate, which is true for a lot of what's happened with Wonwoo. But, this still feels different. It feels like more, once again. Wonwoo realizes that you’re not behind him and turns back to you. He closes the space between you yet again and places a hand on your cheek, impossibly soft. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asks. 

“I’ve never done…this,” you say softly into the quiet between you and him. 

“Pretty sure we’ve already fucked several times,” Wonwoo says to lighten the mood.

“No, I mean, this…I don’t know. The desserts and the whipped cream and chocolate. It just feels, I don’t know, intimate,” you admit. 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he assures you. 

It’s absolutely insane that you’re hesitating. It doesn’t have to be some super intimate thing. It’s not like Wonwoo hasn’t already seen every inch of you and gotten to know your body better than anyone should in that period of time. But, this is far beyond the point where you can convince yourself any part of this is for the mission anymore. This isn’t just to keep him close. This is no longer indecision, as much as you want to pretend that it is.

“Is this your go-to move, then? Have a bunch of sweets delivered to the hotel room and seduce people with being all gentle?” you ask.

“I’ve definitely never done this before,” he says and it’s too honest. 

Instead of answering him you just kiss him because it’s the only answer you can think of. Somehow, knowing that this is different for him too makes it feel less overwhelming for you. You drag him back towards the table until you’re leaning against it. Your back arches into him as he licks into your mouth. His hands wrap around you to keep you tight against his body. He pulls away again and you’re ready for it this time. 

Wonwoo reaches an arm behind you and dips a strawberry in some of the chocolate. He brings it to your lips and watches intently as you get your mouth around it. The first bite sends a little bit of juice and chocolate over your lips. Just as you’re about to wipe it away, Wonwoo pulls the remainder of the strawberry back and kisses it away. It’s like that one action unlocks any hang ups you have. You twist around to scoop up some whipped cream with your finger. Your eyes lock on Wonwoo as you slowly lick it off. With it still in your mouth, you kiss him hard, enjoying the way your tongues dance and the tastes. 

The two of you take turns dipping fruit and feeding it to each other. The kisses become more and more desperate in between feeding each other. It’s a little messy, though, so you unbutton Wonwoo’s shirt and slide it off his arms. He undoes your dress to slide it off your body, removing your bra along the way. You rid him of his pants and briefs as well so that you’re not the only one standing there naked. 

When you reach back to get more fruit, Wonwoo grabs your hand to stop you. There’s a question in your eyes that he leaves unanswered as he moves things out of the way behind you. Then, he’s sitting you on the edge of the table and reaching for the whipped cream, which also answers your question. He puts some of the topping on your breast and sucks into your skin to lick it off you. Your legs part on their own as you lean back on the table to encourage him to get closer. He swirls his tongue around your nipple before softly nipping at your skin. Without warning, he bites into the flesh of your breast and laves over the spot to soothe you. 

Food should not be this sexy. Maybe it’s just that it’s Wonwoo tempting you, but you’ve never been this turned on. His tongue is everywhere across your breasts and your stomach. Covering you in kisses while also licking the whipped cream or chocolate off of you. Your nails scratch down his back each time he nips into your skin. Somehow the sensations are everywhere all at once. You wrap your legs around his waist to anchor him closer to you. 

“I need you inside me,” you whine out with Wonwoo kissing along your neck.

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” he asks into your skin.

“Feel for yourself,” you encourage. 

Wonwoo pulls away from your neck and looks at you with lust. He presses his fingers to your mouth and you suck them in without even thinking about it. They’re sweet as you swirl your tongue around them. “Fuck, that’s hot.” 

As if it’s confirmation, he ruts against you, seemingly hard just from all the making out and the food. You pull his fingers from your mouth and guide them to your already dripping pussy. He’s not the only one that’s gotten insanely turned on. As soon as you guide his fingers through your folds he groans again. 

Neither one of you is in the mood to wait and he doesn’t waste any time angling his hand so he can pump his fingers inside you. Just presses two fingers right in and adds a third to try and open you up. It makes you scream out, praising his fingers with how quickly they work you over. He removes his hand entirely too quickly and you’re whining at the loss. Wonwoo runs a hand along his cock, pumping a couple times and catching some of the precum to spread it along his length. It’s not enough, but you don’t really care right now. 

“Please, Wonwoo, I need you,” you beg.

“Feeling a little desperate, princess?” he teases, that cocky smirk back on him. 

“Just fuck me already,” you whine. 

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything else, just lines himself up and presses his tip into you. It stretches you out and you’re a little surprised that he goes so slowly. Then, you realize that it feels like more when he’s inching into you like this. His eyes watch you for any signs of discomfort. He leans forward and catches your lips in the neediest kiss of the night when he bottoms out in you. You lean back onto your elbows, bringing him along with you. The kisses get sloppier as he starts to thrust into you. 

He pulls away from you to reposition and presses your leg up so that he can get deeper. You let your leg fall over his arm so that you don’t have to hold it up. The moans between the two of you are loud enough to drown out the sound of skin on skin as he fucks into you hard. You can’t help it, though, and you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Look at me,” he directs roughly. 

You moan in response but tilt your head back towards him. It feels like a chore and that’s when it occurs to you. Taking hold of his free hand, you move it to your throat. For a second, his eyes go wide and his pace slows. He’s searching your face for a clue before he grabs your throat a little more forcefully.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yes, fuck,” you groan out. “I’ll tap you if it’s too much.” 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he utters, flexing his fingers on your throat.

Somehow, Wonwoo seems to know the perfect amount of pressure. It’s just tight enough that it makes it a little harder to breathe, but not so much that it’s actually choking you. He seems more comfortable than when he did it the first time. It also makes it easier to keep your eyes on him the way he wants. Everything feels heightened and it’s entirely too soon that you’re rushing to your high. You clench your walls around Wonwoo and he fucks you harder, groaning at the increased tightness.

“Gonna come all over my dick again?” he asks and you moan. 

You can’t really say anything and you don’t want to. This is all you need. Your hand winds down your body and you look at Wonwoo with a question in your eyes.

“Go ahead, baby, touch yourself,” he directs you. 

Asking for permission to do anything is unlike you, but there’s something about wanting to please this man that drives you to all sorts of new things. You rub your clit in time with his thrusts and it seems like only moments pass before you’re tipping over that edge. 

Heavy breaths eventually subside to find Wonwoo slowly, almost lazily, fucking into you. His hands are now both on your hips as he waits for you to come down. You sit up with him still inside you and kiss him, slow and full of all sorts of unspoken things.

“You really are fucking amazing,” you say, voice a little hoarse. “You can move faster.”

“I was thinking we might need to get into the shower,” he says with a smirk, pressing a finger to your skin. You’re about to object when you watch him pull it away and it sticks. 

“Maybe I can take care of you in there, then,” you say and kiss him softly. 

His eyes seem to light up a little at that. He slides out of you gently and walks slowly into the bathroom. You meant what you said. Shower sex is definitely not your thing because it’s never as sexy as people make it out to be. It can be slippery and there aren’t really any good positions. That doesn’t mean you can’t help him out a little. 

Wonwoo has other ideas first, it seems. Once the water is warm enough, both of you get in and he lathers up a loofah to gently wash all the stickiness from your body. It’s gentle in a way you’re not expecting and impossibly thoughtful. You relax against his back with his arms around you while he makes sure all the remnants are gone. 

When you’re clean, you turn around to face him and kiss him hard. The water falling on your back creates the perfect sensation with the heat between the two of you. He gathers you against his body, hands sliding down to grip your ass. It’s all you can do not to melt right on the spot. You think that you could probably kiss this man for the rest of your life and never get bored. Or never fully prepare yourself for the way it makes you feel. 

You drop to your knees and take his cock in your hand. He leans back against the wall of the shower as he looks down on you. It’s crazy to you how turned on this man gets (or stays) just from kissing or skin contact. No matter what, his body always seems to be ready for you. You run your tongue along his length and swirl your tongue around the tip. You’re impatient and you know he’s been waiting, so you don’t waste any time before you suck him into your mouth. You relax your throat and swallow as much of his cock as you’re able to, alternating between bobbing and hollowing out your cheeks. 

“You look so good looking up at me like that,” he groans. 

You hum around his dick and Wonwoo grabs the back of your head to anchor you there. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes before he releases you and you can get a breath. Even in this position, you can tell that you actually have control over this man. It’s a great feeling since he’s been in control every other time. His hips buck when you suck him back into you. It’s definitely a powerful feeling. The groans also tell you what you already know, you’re good at this. He’s putty in your hands. 

With a few more bobs, he’s coming down your throat and then slumping back against the shower wall. It doesn’t stop him from helping you up off your knees. You pepper light kisses along his collarbones before he surprises you and pulls you into another kiss. It’s never been your experience that a man wants to kiss you like that, but he doesn’t shy away. 

“We better get out of this shower before we run through all the hot water,” he says between kisses.

“You’re right,” you say with a sigh. 

The two of you step out of the shower and Wonwoo is quick to wrap you up in a towel. It takes everything in you to tell your heart to calm down. You know Wonwoo feels all the same things you do. Even if he's not free with vocalizing his emotions, his actions tell you exactly what he’s thinking. If you know where to look, that is. You’re realizing that you definitely know where to work. 

Twenty minutes later, your skin care routine is done and you’re curled up in bed in one of Wonwoo’s oversized t-shirts. You know your alarm is going to be too early tomorrow since you need to check in with Seungcheol, but all you want to do tonight is curl up and talk more with this incredibly interesting man. 

Something seems to shift now that you’re holed up in Wonwoo’s hotel room with him for the next however many days. Before, he seemed hesitant to talk about the real reason you two crossed paths. You’re not sure what causes the change or why he trusts that you’re not going to just turn around and burn him. Maybe it’s just that you haven’t done it yet. 

“What made you want to start stealing art?” you ask while the two of you are sitting outside on the balcony. This room really is too nice. It almost makes it hard to leave and explore. 

“I don’t know if it was that I wanted to steal art,” he chuckles. 

“Okay, how did you start, then?” you ask with an affectionate eye roll. 

“It’s going to sound stupid,” he says with an uncharacteristic shyness. “I guess, I don’t know, I grew up in this house where nobody ever seemed to care what I was doing. I stole the first piece from my parents and sold it off to someone I’d met at this underground club. I figured my parents would catch me and then at least I’d have their attention for a minute.”

“I’m guessing they didn’t catch you,” you comment.

“They didn’t even notice it was gone,” he says with a chuckle. “How old were you?” you ask.

“16,” he answers immediately.

“So you’ve been doing this…?” you start, doing the math in your head.

“12 years, yeah,” he says. “It took awhile to get to the point I’m at now. I think for a while I was figuring that my parents would somehow catch on and give a shit about my life. By the time I was 19, I was really good at it and I’d made a lot of contacts. I still moved in all those circles so I never looked out of place at a gallery or a museum. Nobody looked twice at me.”

“Did it ever get lonely?” you ask and Wonwoo regards you for a moment. “I just mean that you were still part of all these circles. You still went to all these parties and it seems like none of them knew you at all. You were hiding in plain sight because nobody knew you well enough to see it.”

“I had the networks of people that I sold to or accepted jobs from,” he says.

“But everything I’ve ever seen says that you rarely met with those people in person. It was always online contact and leaving pieces somewhere after the money had been wired,” you share.

“I guess your agency got a few things right,” he mumbles.

“It sounds loney,” you say sympathetically.

“I wish you were a little less observant,” he says like he’s trying for a joking tone. 

It’s immediately obvious that he’s a little tired and definitely lonely. You can’t really imagine that type of life. Sure, you’ve been working on your own or with a single partner for your entire adult life. But, you’ve still been part of an organization. There are people that know you at your core. There are people that you can turn to when everything in life feels like it sucks. No matter how bad things get, you know there are people out there who can support you.

Almost involuntarily, a series of images pop into your head. Wonwoo in a suit at a charity gala, the type of person that everyone wants to approach. You can imagine people whispering behind their hands about going to speak to him or ask him to dance. Maybe trying to approach him at the bar. Then you see him just as clearly at home afterwards, alone and sitting on his couch with a drink in hand. You see him perusing a museum to get the lay of the land so that he can steal it later. Once again, alone. You see how he probably sits at home communicating with all his potential buyers. 

Wonwoo reads the look on your face and assures you that it’s probably not as bad as you’re imagining things. Yes, he admits that he’s lonely sometimes and that he’s alone more than he’s with other people. It’s hard for him to let anyone in. He doesn’t want to have to account for his time or trust that they won’t blow his cover. There’s nobody in his life that he can be totally himself with, at least not until meeting you. But, he insists that it hasn’t been so bad. Mostly, he prefers to be on his own anyway. He likes the quiet and the solitude. Likes to be able to enjoy his down time however he likes. He gets enough socialization when he goes to events as he’s expected to. 

Which brings up a question. After over a decade of doing everything solo, why has he trusted you with all of this now? His answer comes more immediately than you would expect, yet it makes sense. You have something to lose here, too. Possibly even more than he does. After all, there have been a lot of teams that have been close to unraveling his mysterious identity. You, on the other hand, are supposed to be tracking him down. Not spending time locked away in his hotel room with him. That brings you up a little short because he’s right and you’re not planning on going anywhere. 

He admits that you intrigue him. All his life, Wonwoo has appreciated a good puzzle or a good challenge. You present both to him, though it hasn’t been as much of a challenge to get you to give him a chance as he expected. It is a challenge to try and unravel you. To try and figure out what made you say yes to the date and what makes you stay now. You also meet him on a level that nobody ever has before. You nearly blush at the way he describes your intelligence and how he feels more turned on by your brain than anyone before. Normally something like that would make you cringe. But, somehow Wonwoo makes it sound both sexy and endearing. You’re just as challenged by him, too, so maybe you get it. 

It also brings up some very conflicting feelings in you because it’s a reminder that you have a life entirely separate from him. You have a life that doesn’t allow you to account for this time. At some point, you have to make a final choice. It’s way too late to just turn Wonwoo in without any sort of repercussion. It’s too late to act like this is all just in the name of bringing down one of the most difficult targets you’ve had to track. In the name of getting to know Wonwoo better, you’ve also shared a lot about yourself. A lot that someone like Seungcheol would be able to clock immediately as being true. Every moment you stay with Wonwoo makes your future more complicated. Things are already too hazy. 

“Okay enough heavy stuff,” you declare and stand. “Let’s go do something.”

“Such as?” he prompts. 

“We’re in a beautiful city, let’s go see some of it,” you suggest.

Wonwoo wants to take a minute to actually plan something, but you veto that. He’s definitely not the spontaneous type, which you figured out before you were even sure who he was. It makes more sense now, knowing who he is. So it feels like more of a win that he relents and agrees to just go with the flow. It’s not as if you’ll be flying totally blind anyway. You did a lot of research before coming down for the mission and you know a lot of the places to see, both tourist places and some that are off the beaten path. 

Once you’re outside of the hotel room, things feel different in a way you can’t quite put your finger on. Everything in the hotel room feels real in the sense of getting to know each other. The conversations can be heavy and there’s that constant need to rip each other’s clothes off. Being outside exploring a foreign city feels real in an entirely different way. None of the conversations are heavy since you’re just appreciating the sights. But, you and Wonwoo trade off in taking pictures of each other (or even snap some together) and it feels like a glimpse at another life. It isn’t a fantasy world because it does feel real, but it doesn’t feel like an actual reality either. It almost feels like a mission you’re on where you and him would pretend to be a couple. You have to remind yourself this is actually a mission and you’re running around with your target because Wonwoo isn’t your partner.

When you’re in Plaza de Mayo, you take a step back to allow Wonwoo to purchase something to eat. It’s too cute to watch him stumble through his Spanish, constantly looking over at you as if asking for help. All you can do is smile as he mixes up hombre and hambre. The older woman putting the food together only smiles softly. There’s something incredibly cute about watching this stoic man get flushed over ordering in another language. 

The next few days follow mostly the same pattern. You wake up earlier than Wonwoo so that you can pretend to work on the mission and actually check in with Seungcheol. Wonwoo pretends that he’s still asleep sometimes. Other times, he gets up and works on his own things. It’s cute that he’ll do anything to make it seem like you have privacy. Breakfast in the room always comes next because it’s an easy way to get ready for the day. 

The days themselves are all a little bit different. You see the Piramide de Mayo, the Floralis Generica, the monuments to Juana Azurduy and General Jose de San Martin, Teatro Colon, the planetarium and several other interesting sights. The planetarium is a personal favorite of yours because it’s just kind of weird in an affectionate way. It’s hard to truly pick a favorite though because each new stop teaches you more about the local culture. It’s the kind of place that just makes you want to fall in love with it. There’s so much beauty and so much to appreciate. Each new stop also seems to involve learning something new about Wonwoo and somehow him trying his hand at Spanish again, only to fail. You’re wondering if he does it just to entertain you. 

While you’re seeing all the tourist spots, you take time to see the things the locals recommend as well. Sometimes that’s hole-in-the-wall food places or stands that someone mentions. Other times it’s a park that’s too out of the way for tourists. Even other times still, it’s a hidden access point to the beach. Thankfully, it’s still cool out and getting Wonwoo to agree to the beach isn’t difficult. You idly wonder what it would be like to try and get him to visit the beach in January when it’s the dead of summer. 

You want to try as many local dishes as you can while you’re there, too. Given his way, Wonwoo would probably eat in the hotel room just as much as out of it, but you don’t know when you’re going to get this chance again. So, even though he’s worn out from spending so much time around people, he lets you drag him out again every night. He even seems to enjoy himself.

At the start of whatever this is, it was always you asking Wonwoo all the questions and trying to volunteer as little about yourself as possible. You’re still an agent and you’re still supposed to be after him. The least you can do, while you’re totally ignoring your mission, is try to better understand Wonwoo and his motivations. Even if you don’t end up turning him in, it's an invaluable experience to get to look into the mind of a criminal. When will you get another chance like this? When will you be this close to someone to ask personal questions? No part of you even considers that he’s lying to you. You’re positive that he answers everything truthfully.

Somewhere along the line, it shifts. Maybe because you know everything you want to know about the man across from you. Or maybe because you genuinely feel comfortable about him. Either way, he’s the one that’s asking you questions now. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t want to know anything about your work. He doesn’t seem to care about any of that. There’s a nagging thought that thinks he might just be trying to make you comfortable. You try to quickly brush it away, though, and just answer any of the personal questions he asks. Wonwoo wants to know the simple things like where you grew up, what your family was like, and what you wanted to do when you were younger. The things that allow him to really know you. It’s terrifying. 

By the time you get back to the hotel that night, you’re exhausted. It feels like it’s been a never ending span of days in the best way. You collapse on the bed without changing. All you manage to do is take off your shoes. Wonwoo leans over you and kisses you, softly at first. But, like every other kiss with him, it leaves you gasping for air after a minute.

It’s amazing how he seems to take your breath away and even more amazing how he always seems like he’s ready to tear your clothes off. You’ve never had someone like him in your life. But, that also brings you back to reality. Wonwoo asked you to give him a few days staying in his hotel room. It’s definitely been longer than that without either of you seeming to notice. There’s a level of comfort that neither of you talk about given that this all has an expiration date. And that expiration date is rapidly approaching. 

Staying with Wonwoo turns out to be longer than either of you planned and neither of you has a complaint about it. You’ve been checking in with Seungcheol every morning and Wonwoo pretends not to listen. It’s been like living in a little bubble where reality isn’t a concern. 

That’s just the thing, though, isn’t it? This isn’t real life, not for you. This isn’t something that lasts long term or that you can even sustain. The reality is still there. Wonwoo is one of the most infamous art thieves to ever live and you work for a secret agency tasked with bringing criminals like him to justice. You’re not exactly sure what the last however many days have been. All you know is this is just a break from reality. A brief glimpse into an alternate life that can never be. It’s been amazing and something you won’t ever forget. You’re hoping that you’re both on the same page about that, at least.

“I should probably go back to my hotel today,” you say. 

Wonwoo looks up from across the room where he’s reading while you pretend to work on your case. It helps to at least log in to the system. “To get more stuff?”

“I can’t stay here forever,” you point out. 

“No, I expect at some point we’ll leave and head to the next place,” he agrees with a shrug. 

“We?” you ask, eyebrows flying up. 

“Yes, we,” he says like suddenly you’re slow on the uptake. “I’ve got a few places in mind that I’d love to take you, but it’s really up to you.” 

“Wonwoo,” you start and your heart sinks.

You are definitely not on the same page. Probably not even in the same book, if you’re honest. Everything over the past days with him has been amazing. The perfect little escape from your reality. But, that’s all it’s been: an escape. Or maybe that’s all you’ve let yourself think it was. Anything else seems like entirely too much. His face drops as he watches you.

“You’re not coming with me,” he realizes.

“I didn’t even know you would want me to!” you state, too loud for the space.

“How could you not? I’ve been telling you all the places that I wanted you to see,” he says and that hits you harder than a physical blow. He’s been giving you all the signs that this isn’t just a bubble.

“I didn’t think you were serious,” you point out.

“Clearly,” he says, voice thick with disappointment. 

“Wonwoo, come on. It’s not like I can just, what? Run away?” you say.

“Oh, no, there’s a whole life waiting for you back at your precious agency,” he says with derision. 

“It’s all I’ve ever known,” you plead.

“And I’ve shown you that there’s more to life than whatever this is for you,” he counters.

“I can’t just leave them,” you say with a shake of your head.

That seems to make Wonwoo angrier than you expect. “No, of course not. How silly of me. You have to get back to your handler that so clearly loves you.” 

“Seungcheol does not love me. We’re friends, sure, but that’s it,” you disagree.

“Let’s pretend that’s true and it’s normal for a handler to speak to you the way he does. Or that it’s normal for him to worry so much about your safety. Who are you going back to apart from him? Who’s waiting for you?” Wonwoo asks.

The questions wash over you like acid rain. Painful and harsh and unrelenting. The worst part is that he’s right. You have wondered if there are some feelings there from Seungcheol. You also don’t have anyone waiting for you. It’s really a half-life, if you’re being honest. Less than a half-life, probably. The past few days with Wonwoo are the most alive you’ve felt since you were a child, before joining the agency. 

“I can’t just…this is my job, Wonwoo. And you’re an art thief. A very famous one and…” you start.

“Have I stolen anything here?” he asks and that brings you up short.

“Well, no, of course not. You’ve been with me,” you say simply.

“And I will leave this city without stealing. I will switch careers entirely if it’s that important, though it doesn’t seem like it is since you haven’t turned me in,” he says and it’s almost like he’s talking to himself. “I’ve been all over the globe trying to feel something. Trying for anything. I started stealing because I could. I wanted to get the attention my parents never gave me. I kept going because I was looking for a challenge, which it is, at least sometimes. I was looking for someone, I think. Then, I find you and you’re everything I didn’t know to ask for. But, you’re telling me some job where you can’t even have a life is more important than this? That my job, which I’m completely willing to give up, is too much of a barrier?”

“I have a life,” you scoff.

“Really?” Wonwoo challenges and folds his arms. “When was the last time you went on a real date? Not with a target, but a real date just with someone you wanted to know? When’s the last time you let yourself just breathe and explore a city? When’s the last time you did something just because you wanted to?”

“Plenty of people are married to their jobs,” you begin.

“I thought you were brave, you know,” Wonwoo muses. “I thought you were someone who would realize how rare this is. It’s not like everyone is lucky enough to meet a person that completes them like this. I guess I was wrong. I guess all I was really good for was fucking you and that’s all it was.”

“Of course that’s not all it was,” you disagree. There are tears threatening to spill over. This isn’t at all how you imagined it going. You weren’t prepared for him to try to fight for you. “The last few days with you have been everything I never thought I’d experience. But, it hasn’t been real, Wonwoo. It can’t be real. Life doesn’t work that way.” 

“Why can’t it?” he fires at you.

“Because I don’t deserve it!” you scream, tears finally streaming down your face. “Because you don’t know my scars. You don’t know the things I’ve done. You don’t know the mistakes I’ve made. You don’t know that I have demons that are constantly chasing me.” 

“I’m a fucking criminal,” he points out. “Who am I to judge?”

“Exactly,” you agree but rush to finish your thought before Wonwoo can interject. “You don’t…question the decisions you’ve made. You stand on everything you’ve done. But, you also do so much good with charities and helping students and just giving back. Plus, I’ve looked at your crimes. You only ever stole from the rich to sell to other rich people.”

“Yet you still were sent to chase me,” he points out. 

“Yeah, who do you think pays our salaries?” you ask flatly. “My point is that…I don’t know. I’m standing here across from you and I feel like I’m the infinitely worse person in this situation.” 

“It really can’t be that bad,” he reasons.

“I’ve taken lives, Wonwoo. More than I can count. And without even questioning if our reasoning was solid for taking them out. I’ve used my body in ways that I may never recover from, thinking it was my choice at the time. I’ve done what I was told and I’ve been good at it. Too good, maybe,” you say. You’re talking to yourself more than him at this point. “I’m the one they send when they don’t want a record. I’m the one they send when nobody else can do it. I’ve spent the last 10 years of my life training and doing what I was told. It’s given me scars that you can’t see and won’t ever heal. All I know is this. They’re not just going to let me go. And even if they did, you don’t deserve all the baggage that I come with. You’re not a bad guy.”

“And you think you are? A bad guy?” he asks.

“I know I am,” you say.

“That’s all you are if that’s all you see, but I see so much more,” he argues. 

“I still can’t just ask them to walk away,” you press.

“I wasn’t suggesting that you ask,” he says. “You deserve a chance to start fresh. To see what you can be without the weight of the world hanging over your head.”

“I don’t deserve anything more than what I have now,” you disagree.

“What about love? Do you deserve that?” he asks, changing directions.

“I don’t know,” you admit.

“And me? Do I deserve love?” he asks.

“Yes, without question,” you answer immediately.

“So give me the chance to experience love,” he begs. “I never thought I’d love anyone and I’ve never taken this kind of chance on anyone. But, I’m asking you for a chance. Just one more.” 

There’s so much tension in the air between you. So many things still left unsaid and so much emotion. The air between you and him seems to crackle. A storm brews behind his eyes as he waits for you to answer him. It seems insane to think that he could feel that for you after such a short time. But, really, what do you know? You have unquestionably never been in love before, not really. There’s never been the time or space for it in your line of work. Relationships never seem to get deeper because you’re always keeping secrets. Can’t ever tell them what you really do for work. And then there’s Wonwoo. He knows so much about you already and even though it’s barely scratched the surface, it’s still more honest than you’ve ever been. He doesn’t want to run away and that scares you more than any mission you’ve ever had.

It’s just…it’s too much to decide now. You spend your whole life having to make split second decisions, yet can’t about this. Don’t have the data that you have on missions. Don’t know the pros and cons. It’s uncharted territory. It’s scary in a way you’ve never experienced. You’ve stared down the barrel of too many guns and this still feels infinitely more terrifying. Maybe he can love you after such a short amount of time because he seems to realize what you’re going to say before you say it. 

“Don’t,” he says softly when you open your mouth. “I’m going to leave the day after tomorrow. I’m going to set the flight to leave at 1 in the afternoon. That gives you time to change your mind.”

“And if I don’t reach you before then?” you ask softly.

“Don’t ever expect to find me again,” he says with a finality that surprises you. When you meet his gaze, it’s harder than you’re expecting. “I really care about you and I’d love you to come with me. But I know how stubborn you are. It’s part of why I love you so much. So I’m leaving my heart open until the day after tomorrow. Then it’s over.”

“You’re an amazing person, Wonwoo,” you say and press a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve challenged a lot of my ideas about right and wrong. I’ll never forget that.” 

“I’m not accepting this as goodbye. I’ll still hope to see you before I leave,” he says and presses the gentlest kiss to your forehead. 

Your throat is too tight to say anything in response to that. All you can do is gather up your things and head out of the hotel room. Everything in your body feels tired from the unexpected heaviness of the conversation. It hurts to see Wonwoo looking so hurt. As crazy as it sounds, you do mean that he deserves the absolute best. You also meant it that made you rethink a lot of your preconceived notions. You actually questioned things for the first time in your adult life. Despite all of that, you still walk right out of the hotel room.

You spend nearly every minute after walking out of Wonwoo’s hotel room considering his offer. Go as far as scheduling your flight out of Buenos Aires for the same time as his. Genuinely, you’re not sure what you want to do. At least Seungcheol understood failing the mission. Somehow, he still sees it as a win that nothing was stolen from anywhere in the city while you were there. He assumes that your presence somehow spooked the notorious art thief. Thankfully he doesn’t realize just how right he is. 

The biggest surprise is that Chan, the slightly overeager agent from the flight down, will be meeting you when you get on the plane. He’s only wrapping up a second mission that popped up in the area. The Agency is sending him along so that you can debrief about your actual mission and start looping him in going forward. Apparently, as great as you are and as (almost) perfect as your record is, the agency still wants to have someone for you to work with when you need them. Since that can’t be Seungcheol, he’s recommending a promising younger agent. This apparently also includes you being the one to tell him all of this yourself. 

The airport is busy when you get there, an unsurprising side effect of planning flights during the afternoon. There’s also the fact that private planes have to leave from the international airport, which is always somewhat packed. Getting through customs and security is surprisingly smooth and soon you’re going to have to face your literal crossroads. 

In one direction is the familiar. Nothing about working for The Agency is easy. There’s a sense of routine to it, though. A sense of generally knowing what your days or weeks or even months will look like. You know how to make coffee in the shitty break room when you’re actually on site (a rarity). You know how to play nice with the other agents. You know how all the tech works. And you’re good at the missions themselves. That’s just to say you don’t have to learn anything new. You’re lucky enough to have a semi-boss that you get along with. There’s a sense of routine to everything from mission briefings to flights to the missions themselves. There’s comfort in knowing you don’t really have to make the decisions. Sure, you have to figure out which course to take on the ground with a mission. But, that usually only means picking option A or B. All of the possible courses of action come in the briefing. You just have to evaluate the factors and figure out which pre-determined option fits best. It’s easy. As fucked up as it might be to admit, you like doing something that you know you’re good at. It’s nice to get praised for constantly succeeding. It’s the easy decision.

And in the other direction…well, it’s the unknown. Being with Wonwoo has been nothing short of the best feeling of your life. The most alive you’ve ever felt. It’s kind of crazy but part of you thinks you may love him. Can see how the whole future plays out, even if it’s not crystal clear. The two of you could start over somewhere new where he doesn’t have to steal art and you don’t have to chase criminals with questionable methods. Both of you have the funds (even if he’s better set up) to start over. Both of you clearly have the skills to disappear into the wind, too. It’s not like your legal name exists anywhere anymore. Very few people even know it, not that you would go back to it. 

It’s easy to get lost in the daydream. As much as you love the sun of Buenos Aires, you can’t imagine Wonwoo in a place like that during the actual summer. Everything about him makes you think of somewhere cooler, somewhere that you’re not constantly sweating. That would let you take breaks to sunnier weather. Places where you could soak up the sun while he took refuge under an umbrella, watching you with all the affection in the world. Actually, you can picture visiting a lot of places with him. He would be the perfect travel partner to see all the beautiful corners of the world that you’ve never been able to appreciate. It’s like going somewhere for a business trip. You’re there working, not to appreciate everything around you. 

There’s something kind of poetic about being at an airport as an actual crossroads in your life. It’s like you can get on a plane going anywhere. Quite literally, since you’re not sure where Wonwoo’s plane is going. Not that it really matters. If that’s the path you pick, then it’s for him rather than the destination. 

The only question left is whether you’re ready to leave your entire life behind. Are you ready to say goodbye to the agency that saved you? Are you ready to cut yourself off from the few people who actually know you and accept you as you are? Can you live without having any closure on that part of your life? Would you feel guilty that Seungcheol would be left with a million questions about what happened to you? Or would it hurt you to know that he would blame himself for your disappearance somehow? Then again, maybe he would know, on some level, that you just finally reached the point of needing to walk away. That’s something you and him have talked about before, in the early hours of the morning after too much to drink. What would you do if you could walk away from this life? What would life after The Agency look like? 

With a deep breath, you pick your path and you don’t look back. That’s the only way you know you’ll have the strength in your decision. 

i hope you all enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it! please reblog or comment and let me know 💕

OMG IM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH FOR FAKE PT.2 I LOVED PT 1 SM I LOVE YOU SM EHEHEH

𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ─ when the reader receives hate ! pt 1

includes: reo mikage, michael kaiser, isagi yoichi

warnings: gn!reader, they/them prns in kaiser + isagi, 2k+ wc for reo, 1.6k for kaiser and 1k for isagi, ooc!characters, borderline panic attack in reo's, hate and negative comments, happy endings for all, let me know if i'm missing any warnings, bad wriitng LOL

a/n: ask and u shall receive ! bro why is the cover image so low quality i can't be assed to fix it - ANYWAYS ENJOY ANON !!!

MIKAGE REO:

if there’s one thing reo is used to, it’s the amount of eyes constantly surveying his every move. there is not one aspect of his life that hasn’t been intruded by the amount of aristocratic families wondering how he’s doing. reo’s quite fed up with it himself. 

but of course, if there’s one thing dating reo mikage entails, it’s having those same eyes scrutinising your every move even harder- a fact you accepted before he asked you to be his. a fact you were starting to get used to.

despite all the glamourised smiles and ambiguous compliments of your relationship, there will always be some who aren’t afraid to voice their opinions.

which, is how you got stuck talking to some ceo’s daughter at a gala you were attending as reo’s plus one. 

“i’m not trying to be mean or anything, just honest,” she says with a particular slice of her hands, flaunting her expensive nails and jewellery. “but i don’t think you’re right for reo, and i know i am not the only one who thinks that! don’t you think it’s time you stop hogging him and y’know, return him to those who really deserve him?”

something disgusting churns within you at the way she talks of your boyfriend, as if he were some goal; a fish in a sea of hungry fishermen. the statement makes you feel violated, you can’t imagine how reo would feel being talked about like this for his entire life.

“and who might that be?” you counter, trying your best to remain calm and not give in to the storm within you.

she flares her nostrils, narrowing her perfectly painted eyes. “look around. take a good glance at the competition.”

“i won’t do that because there is no competition. reo chose me, whether you like it or not,” you firmly place your drink down on the table beside you before pointedly showing her the beautiful promise ring, encrusted with diamonds that reo himself placed on your finger. “besides, if there even was a competition in the first place, i’m afraid you’re all much too late.”

with a final sneer, she turns around with a pointed flick of her healthy, smooth hair before walking away, classy and expensive as ever.

just like everyone around you.

you, on the other hand, find it hard to breathe, and the luxurious fabric of your even more luxurious outfit is clinging to your body. before you even know it, you’re making a run for the exit, slipping past crowds of people and ignoring their looks of curiosity. 

no one would bother to look too long anyways.

you should be proud of how you managed to remain level-headed during that interaction, but you can’t help but give in to her manipulative tactics. you did take a good look of the competition and they all looked like millions upon millions of dollars. they have had their life plan sorted from the very moment of their birth, their destiny handed to them of a silver platter, and although you know to look beyond the materialism and gold, it’s hard to ignore it when you’re surrounded by marble walls and crystal chandeliers.

suddenly feeling like an imposter, you just want to hop in a cab and go home.

bolting through expansive halls with decorative arches and doors to match, you’re almost at the parking lot where the chauffeurs awaited, just a flight of stairs await your descent.

it’s not until a hand catches your wrist that you stop. 

turning around, you find no comfort in the familiarity of reo’s face which was laced with concern and worry. he’s panting, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, and his hair was all over his face. was he chasing after you?

“y/n! where are you going?” the purple-haired asks, eyebrows furrowing even more as he notices the distressed state you’re in. he grabs both your hands, manoeuvring you to look him square in the eyes. except, it’s so difficult, you’re looking everywhere but at him. “i was calling your name the entire time, did you not hear me?” 

“reo, please, leave me alone,” you request with a shaky voice, trying to get out of his grip with no success.

“i can’t, not when you’re like this,” he protests, “deep breaths, y/n, come back to me.”

a few moments of silence pass by, allowing you to return to your senses as reo holds your hands against his heart, stroking your skin with his thumb. no longer overwhelmed and suffocated by your thoughts, it’s hard to look your boyfriend in the eye, cowering away from his gaze.

“what’s the matter?” he asks gently, pressing a hand against your cheek delicately. it’s warm. you want to melt into him.

“it’s- i, i had a really- you know what, nevermind,” you murmur, shaking your head, turning your back against reo as you pull your hands away from his. 

you miss the expression of heartbreak that appears on his pretty face. 

your cold actions don’t deter him. instead, it makes him more determined to stay by your side, chasing after you even as you descend down the stairs. since your shoes were a lot more complicated than his, the soccer player catches up to you quickly to guide you by the small of your back as he mirrors your pace.

“i want to go home,” you mutter to him once you’re on the ground, trying your best not to collapse under the gaze of so many, surrounded by butlers and chauffeurs.  

he nods with a gentle gaze. “let’s go home then.”

his kindness is not enough to shield you from the scrutiny that bears into you. “no, reo, you should stay, i’ll just catch a taxi home or something.”

he looks at you in pure astonishment, slightly taken back by your weird attitude. 

“but i don’t want to. why would i want to stay if you’re not?” asks the purple-haired. 

opting to remain silent rather than answer, you try to walk towards the main road of the highway, only to be cut off by reo shoving himself in front of you.

“and why would i let you take a cab home?” your purple-haired lover questions, placing both of his hands on his cheeks so you can finally look him in the eye. “y/n, what’s going on? something happened, didn’t it?”

taking both of his hands away from your face, you take a step away; once again missing the look of astonishment and heartbreak that appears on reo’s face. “nothing happened,” you say stubbornly, rubbing your hands against your arms.

“i don’t want to go home if you’re like this, can we please just talk for a little?” he remains behind you, getting the hint that you don’t want to be provoked or touched in any way, even if it’s killing him. the soccer player’s fingers itch with the need to embrace and trace every part of you that you’ll allow, but, for the sake of your fragile state, he doesn’t.

with a small exhale, you agree. it would be unfair for you to leave reo in the dark, continually brushing off his genuine kindness due to some chick that got in your head.

he leads you towards the gardens nearby which were dimly lit, yet still very beautiful. spring was in full season, so you could only catch glimpses of the beautiful flora that aligned the path, but there was no denying that it was still breathtaking. reo walks beside you, synchronising his footsteps with yours.

eventually, you arrive at a fountain in the middle of the garden. where you take a seat on its marble ledge, reo whispers ‘one second’ to you before running off to the bushes where the red roses were. he returns quickly, jogging back to you with a singular flower in his hands. 

“for you, my love,” he declares with a small smile, bowing with an extended hand, expecting you to take his gift.

you readily do, heart warming at his silliness whilst twirling the rose in your fingers. “thank you,” you reply, pressing a kiss to his cheek when he places his hand next to you so he can lean against the fountain for support. 

the promise ring you wear on your finger feels heavier than usual, especially when he smiles fondly at you, a lovesick expression on his face that is no doubt mirrored by you. 

but looking at him, you can’t help but recall the stinging reality that he lived in a world of glamour, decadence, and allure; only doubled by the fame that came with his life as a pro-soccer player. you love reo with your whole being, really, sometimes you fear that your feelings might be a little too much, but loving him with a materialistic barrier in between is difficult. 

the idea of letting him go than stealing him away from the world of mystique feels suddenly a lot kinder.

“reo,” you begin after a few minutes of simply being in each other’s presence. he looks at you with widened eyes and raised eyebrows, directing 100% of his attention towards you. with a deep inhale, you continue.

“do you ever think that… we’re not, meant to be?”

the silence is deafening.

“what do you mean?” he asks with a small stutter of disbelief, “of course we’re meant to be! you’re the one for me- you’re my soulmate!”

usually, when reo says that, it makes your insides gush and flutter, but now it riddles you with guilt and scepticism. “how can you be so sure?”

“y/n,” he sounds so very desperate. reo’s eyes have always been the window to his soul and seeing the way they shine with tears, your chest clenches with an unpleasant feeling. “why are you doubting my love for you?”

his hand goes to your ring finger, playing with the jewellery that you suddenly feel like you don’t deserve.

“you agreed, remember? you agreed to letting me love you forever and loving me in return. i put this ring on you because it’s always going to be you, no matter what circumstance, i’ll always choose you.” 

“but is choosing me the right decision?”

“yes, a thousand times yes, there will never be. anyone. but. you.” reo increases the amount of emphasis he puts into each word, now changing his position so that he stood in front of you, caging you with his build. “can you tell me what happened, beautiful? because something clearly did and soured my gorgeous y/n’s mood.”

the sudden onslaught of compliments, mixed with how close reo was, broke down your resolve easily, crumbling at his feet as you gave in to his gentle demands. 

“i met an unpleasant someone who told me i should give you up for people who deserve you more,” you whisper, throwing your arms around his neck, a gesture of equal affection and possessiveness. 

he hums, seemingly calm but you know better. the furrow of his eyebrows was one of scrutiny and distaste. you’re glad he’s trying to remain subtle, you’ve had enough of emotional responses for one night.

“and who might this unpleasant someone be?”

“i have no idea. she gave me a name but it went in one ear then out the other.”

pressing his face into the junction where your neck and shoulder meet, the soccer player revels at this chance to be close to you. 

“it was probably important though,” you reiterate, “and, well, might be able to benefit you a lot better than i ever can.” 

he scoffs into your skin, causing you to shiver. “no one’s name is as important as mine, my love, and no one can boost it more than what it’s already worth. if anything, those who have me gets the boost, i’m already the best.” 

his (rightfully deserved) cockiness makes you smile ever so slightly as you punch his shoulder. “are you implying i’m a gold digger?”

“well, you didn’t choose me, did you?” asks reo with a raise of his eyebrow. “i begged you to go on a date with me and you only agreed the fourth time i asked.”

the recollection makes a giggle slip past your lips- a sound reo dearly missed as he admires your beauty in the dim lighting of the gardens. he places a fleeting kiss on your neck before looking up at you. 

“of course, everyone else won’t know that and assume,” you point out before leaning in towards his lips, unable to resist him much longer.

“who cares?” he mutters against you before melting against you in a gentle kiss filled with love, reassurance, and promises. “they’re all irrelevant anyways, just a bunch of talkers with nothing to back up their words.”

“then what am i?”

“you’re my future. you’re the one that actually cares about me, more than my money or my soccer skills. remember the first day we met and you told me to get out of the way? back in college?”

“well you were blocking my path. i was running late to my class as well.”

reo chuckles, pulling away from you so there was a little distance between your faces. “never thought i’d want someone so bad just because they didn’t know who i was.”

“then show me,” you say with a little challenge in your tone. “screw the gala, take me home, reo.”

“thought you’d never ask.”

MICHAEL KAISER:

“kaiser gets it in! a miracle shot, just what you’d expect from bastard münchen’s genius striker!” the announcer exclaims as the crowd shoots up in excitement, roaring and buzzing with excitement as the members of germany’s football team all swarm around the blond, cheering and celebrating. 

kaiser participates in the hype, fist bumping his teammates before running back to position, but not without sparing a look at the screen that was displaying the match. no one misses the kiss he blows in the direction of the camera and although the stadium is filled with squeals (from boys, girls, grown ups and children alike), you know something they don’t.

right before the match, kaiser made you promise that each goal of his equated to ten kisses, a deal that you readily accepted and bumped up to twenty as a way of motivating him to take the game home.

that kiss he blew was just a way of solidifying that he was thinking of you and the wink he sent straight after was just making sure you’d keep your promise.

you can’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world with him. 

as the match progresses, you can tell it’s going to be an easy victory, with all favours towards your lover’s team - kaiser earning another two himself. 

it’s almost scary just how effortlessly he dominates, settling the score at 3-1 for bastard münchen, once again making feats you thought were difficult look effortless. as the whistle blew announcing the end of the game, roars fill the stadium once again and you too, jump up with the crowd to cheer as loudly as you can.

repping his jersey with his name on the back, it just feels too good, especially when you bask in the afterglow of a well deserved victory.

you don’t miss the amount of glances kaiser sends your way, antsy to be able to reach you and spend some time with you because he’d rather have you congratulate him than a bunch of old, white men that just want to sponsor him. they can get in line because you’re his top priority.

you hope he sees you and the heart you make with your arms over your head just for him. 

dawdling out of the stadium always takes forever because of the amount of people that always come to see his game so when over half the people have cleared out, you make your way down to the front row, where your soccer genius boyfriend was waiting for you.

“you were incredible, my love,” you say as a greeting, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, one that he readily returns. you don’t really care that he was sweaty, too overwhelmed by how proud of him you were.

not that your opinions really mattered in the grand scheme of things, but kaiser considered it a great lucky charm, one he holds highly.

“as always,” he mutters, pressing a kiss against your cheek. you giggle at the sensation, smiling widely as he continues. “tell me more about how amazing i was.”

rolling your eyes at his arrogance, you decide to indulge him, just a little. “the best out there, greatest soccer player of all time, and you looked so handsome too, my main character,” you pinch his cheek. “done?”

“not at all,” keens kaiser, smiling at you like a cat.

“get your stuff first and then when we’re home, i’m all yours.”

“i’m holding you to your promise, pretty, that’s sixty kisses from you.”

with a final kiss on the forehead as farewell, you bid him goodbye and watch as he runs off to get changed, joining ness who was waiting for him by the exit. the magenta-haired soccer player waves at you from halfway across the field, a gesture you readily return before turning around to go outside.

passing by the security guards who give you a little nod of acknowledgement, you’re relieved to see that the audience that gathered tonight had gone off into their cars, ready to go home for the night. 

you’re about to go around to where the players exit so kaiser wouldn’t swarmed by a flurry of fans and reporters, until you’re stopped by a hand on the shoulder. the grip wasn’t strong, but demanding enough for you to turn around and greet whoever wanted to talk to you.

it was a pair of teenage girls. they were well-dressed and pampered, but the look they were giving you was less than friendly. somehow, you already knew where this conversation was going.

“can i help you?” you ask, flashing them a smile.

one of them eyes you up and down, judgement very clear in her eyes. you cringe a little. “are you kaiser’s partner?” she asks. 

you nod in affirmation. you hate the sleazy feeling developing in your gut, expanding due to the scrutiny of their gazes. one of the girls nudge the other one in an ‘i told you so’ manner, which is returned with a smirk that is mischievous in kind.

“do you need something from me?” you question, finally letting your astoundment show on your face. really, you just wanted to walk away from this conversation and find kaiser so you could go home.

“yeah, we’re just wondering why, y’know, that he’d choose you.” 

“excuse me?”

“like don’t get us wrong, you’re pretty and all, but we just think that you’re kinda bland for him,” one of them states as the other hums in agreement. 

the audacity. you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground.

“okay, cool. what do you suggest i do then since you seem to be experts in my relationship.”

“break up with him, duh?”

“and let one of you date him instead?” you scoff. “fat chance.” 

“just give him up, okay? we could love kaiser more than you probably ever could, clout chaser.”

“gold digger!”

now amused more than frustrated, you bite back the laugh that bubbles in your chest. it was entertaining seeing some sixteen year old girls try to tell you that you and your boyfriend (of two years) shouldn’t be together. 

being kaiser’s partner had its downsides sometimes, and it was mostly just the hate you receive for ‘stealing’ him off the market, especially since he was so young, some fans didn’t appreciate that he wasn’t an eligible bachelor. but, you’re used to it. so long as you get to watch him in the spotlight, you don’t really mind the darkness. 

you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “right… are we done here? because this ‘gold digger’ wants to see their partner and congratulate him.”

“what part aren’t you understanding?” one of them asks before the other one completes the sentence. “you and kaiser just don’t look good together!”

before you could answer, a heavy arm drapes itself over your shoulders. “aww, why not?” a familiar voice asks. the two girls in front of you freeze, panic evident on their faces. “what disturbances held you up from seeing me?”

then you see and hear an overload of flashes and camera clicks. kaiser must’ve caught the paparazzi on his way out and you suddenly remember that you left him waiting, feeling slightly guilty when you turn your head to meet his gaze. you wrap your arms around his torso, happier than ever to feel his warmth against your own. 

“what happened here?” kaiser asks, a question directed at you and you only. 

“they were just telling me that they didn’t like that i was a main role in your theatre,” you say, earning an eyebrow raise from your genius boyfriend. “how should we fix that?”

he hums for a moment, meeting the widened eyes of his fans.

“kick them out,” he simply declares before turning around with you still in his arms. you two pass by paparazzi, paying them little mind except from the small smiles you send their way. 

once you’re in a clearer, quieter area, your boyfriend turns to you and embraces you properly, a gesture you return eagerly as he breathes you in.

“what a way to sour such a good victory,” murmurs kaiser, voice muffled by his jersey that you were wearing. “can’t believe i had to play your knight in shining armour instead of the king that i am.”

you pinch his neck which causes him to flinch with a little shriek. always leave it to you to dumb down his narcissism.

“i was handling it myself pretty well, y’know,” you sigh, “being the michael kaiser’s partner, i’ve grown immune to the hate i receive.”

kaiser frowns, “i didn’t think it happened often,” he whispers. “i’m sorry. how many times have you had to defend yourself without me knowing?”

“it hardly matters-”

“-but it does. i don’t like when people slander you, less when it’s for no reason other than because you’re with me. you should be marvelled at and admired, just like the masterpiece you are.”

his words cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach, a feeling you mask with a playful eye roll. 

“yes but,” you counter, reaching to cup his cheek, “being with you makes up for it.” 

he smirks, contrasting the downhearted expression he wore moments earlier. kaiser’s skill of immediately recovering from whatever kicks him down truly is something to behold and at times, envy. “of course it does,” he boasts, dramatically flipping one of his bangs. 

“besides, i’m willing to fight back if it means i get to be with you.”

before he can argue back, you grab his arm and pull him towards the entrance.

“now come on, let’s talk about it another day. i believe i owe you sixty kisses.”

“make it one hundred now for leaving me waiting for so long.”

“if you get too greedy i’ll leave you on the sidewalk.”

“you’d do that to your king? how dare you!”

ISAGI YOICHI:

“what does your mum like?” you ask a clueless isagi who simply stares at the range of perfumes that the department store had displayed.

“i have no idea,” he mutters. “i never really paid attention to what smells she used.”

“fragrances, yoichi, not smells.”

“oh. right,” the star soccer player rubs his neck awkwardly, smiling sheepishly at you after correcting his small mistake. 

he was so adorable, you wanted to pinch his cheeks.

this was the first time that isagi was buying a gift for his mother with his own money, and the first person he turned to for help was his partner: you, explaining that this had to be the best gift she’s ever received. for how much she’s done for him, and how much she’s supported his soccer career, isagi doesn’t know if he can repay it through money, but gifts are hard to deny regardless.

readily agreeing to help, you have memories of isagi’s mother welcoming you into the family with warm arms. she would tell you how beautiful you are, how excited she was to meet you, and that her son better treat you well otherwise you could always turn to her for help; a statement that made the star striker gulp.

“i mean, you could never go wrong with a few classics like carolina herrera, dior, or chanel?” you suggest, walking over to the section filled with perfumes contained in shelves, their respective brands displayed on top. isagi follows you like a lost puppy, clinging close to your side by holding your hand, squeezing it ever so often.

everything you’re saying is going in one ear and through the other, and isagi lets it show on his face. 

“don’t worry yoichi, any perfume you pick tends to be a good gift regardless, besides, we have the whole day to figure out what your mum likes,” you reason logically, just in case it might provide him with some relief in the midst of expensive, designer fragrances. 

“right,” he huffs, reaching out to read the labels of some bottles.

after a long hunt of going through the shelves, he eventually settles on a fragrance from maison francis (with a pricetag that made you gawk yet isagi was very calm about, agreeing without even thinking about it), but since the packaged version was locked in a glass cabinet, you opted to call a store attendant.

“that’s a great idea, babe, need me to go with you?” he asks, readjusting the strap of his beat-up bag, the one he’s had since high school. funny how some things don’t change for isagi, you love that about him.

you shake your head in response, telling him to ‘wait here’ before strolling off.

however, during this brief time of being without you, isagi was approached by a trio who looked like they were a family, the eldest holding a phone between his hand.

“isagi yoichi?” he asks timidly, fiddling with the phone.

the soccer player flashes a friendly smile, hoping to reduce any of the anxiety they might feel from approaching him. he was just an average, friendly guy after all. “that’s me, need anything?”

“can we take a picture?” the middle daughter asks, pressing her hands together in a pleading motion.

“of course! come on.”

the set of siblings smile eagerly before ambling to isagi’s side, who squats down so he could fit in frame. after a ‘3, 2, 1’ countdown, the photo is taken and just as the dark-haired athlete was about to stand up, a store attendant approaches.

“would you like me to take the picture?” they ask politely, gesturing to the phone.

simultaneously, everyone agrees and soon enough, the photo is taken and done, allowing isagi to high-five them before waving them off, the three of them thanking him profusely for his time.

the store attendant lingers, turning to face him with wide eyes of admiration. “wow, i didn’t think i’d ever get to meet you!” they exclaim. “i watched your match against the under-20 team like so long ago! you were amazing!”

“oh, yeah,” isagi chuckles, flustered at all this recognition, even though he’s been getting more and more of it lately, “thank you for your support.”

although he inwardly cringes at the line that he’s reused over and over again, the store helper thinks nothing of it, beaming back at him. “you’re super cute too, do you think i could get your number?”

isagi lets his shock show on his face before blurting out: “no, i have a partner already.”

the attendant’s face drops into a look of disappointment and the striker wants to run off to find you. you never should have left him alone.

“what a shame. the person that you were just with right?” isagi nods. “don’t know what you think is so special about them, i personally think you’re too good for them and should find someone better, but, it’s not up to me.”

isagi feels his vision zero in, growing red with each word. him? too good for you? what irony.

“excuse me?” he vocalised lowly- practically a growl as he eyes the employee down. “i’m giving you three seconds to get out of my sight before i-.”

he’s too preoccupied with the fury he feels to notice the way the attendant squeaks, eyes laced with fear, before scurrying off mid-sentence, fully intimidated by the striker. isagi sighs, slumping his shoulders. he’s never used that tone to anyone outside of soccer in an attempt of pre-game slander and now he just misses you.

where did you run off to?

right on queue, you materialise beside him, huffing with a pout on your face. “i couldn’t find any store attendants, that’s so weird! where’d they go?”

deciding against telling you that he just scared one away for trashing you, he simply leans his body weight on you, sighing when you embrace him tightly so he wouldn’t knock the both of you over.

“whoa, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” you ask, unable to hide the smile on your face from his sudden acts of affection. “everything okay, love?” 

“i want to go home,” he whispers against your shoulder. “spend some time with you.”

“what about the gift?”

“i’ll order it online. it can arrive in time.”

relenting, you pluck him off you with great effort. “if you’re sure then, okay, let’s go home.”

“we can get takeout from your favourite on the way home.”

“what’s the occasion?”

“thought i needed to show you how much i appreciate you.”

The Regular | Hoshina Soshiro ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

pairing: hoshina soshiro x barista!reader

genre: romance/slight angst/ | [wc: 1,7k]

a/n: came up with the plot as i was writing away so i hope it makes sense :0 well, enjoy!

He was a regular at this point. He came in every Sunday at around the same time– his only day off you assumed, and ordered the exact same thing every visit.

Two Mont Blanc and a cup of black coffee.

The mysterious man would sit down at the exact same table where he always sat, wearing the usual, monotone expression on his face while waiting for his dessert. Sometimes he would carry a sports bag with him, sometimes he would come empty handed. You would catch him looking at you a few times, perhaps because he was checking to see if you were working on his order already.

Everyone knew him, even the other regulars, yet at the same time it seemed like people kept their distance from the individual. He did give off a mysterious and rather serious vibe. Like that one character in every book or movie who simply existed to assert some kind of calming effect on the audience. The staff, including you, believed that he wanted to be left alone thus everyone kept interactions to a minimum.

At some point the waiters didn't even check up on his table anymore to ask for his order. They would simply appear, place the two Mont Blanc and the coffee in front of him and carry on with their work.

But you didn't.

Not because you tried to stand out or make an extra tip by being interactive or friendly but simply because you believed that one day he would switch up on his order. But there was something else about him, something that made you feel drawn to him, urged you to interact as much as possible– be it a simple exchange of smiles or small words of gratitude.

It was a regular shift like always. Sundays were quiet and tranquil, with no soul disturbing the peace of the café. Being located in a more rural area of Tokyo had its ups and downs for a café yet you were immensely grateful for the quiet this area brought. Life has been treating you rather unwell lately and the least you needed was a busy workday. Especially your head injury has been acting up again but you tried to power through it. How long as it been since your last checkup? The effects of the surgery continued to bother you to this day but you were at least grateful that you were allowed to return back to work almost immediately! Any day longer at that hospital and you would have gone insane.

You spend most of your shifts cleaning up the pantries and making sure that everything, napkins, spoons and cups, were fully restocked– lightwork to put it simply, strictly ordered by your boss. The only other person on the shift with you took care of the orders and tables, just like today. It was empty enough for one person to handle the job but you were ready to jump in whenever your help was needed.

A subtle ringing of the bell above the door signaled that a new customer had entered the café. Your coworker stood behind the coffee machine, hands full taking care of a larger order, thus you took it upon yourself to guide the new customer to their seat.

“Good evening.” You smiled as your eyes fell on the all too familiar face of the mysterious regular.

“Please follow me to your table.” As always, his seat stood empty. The man mumbled a thank you and wasted no time in placing himself down on the leathery brown. Just as you were about to reach for your notebook you realized that it was not on your person anymore. A flush of embarrassment rushed through your face as you excused yourself from the table and told the man that you would be back in a second.

It's probably in the storage room..

You thought, recalling the image of you taking note of all the ingredients that had to be restocked. On your way back your coworker passed you by, stopping you temporarily in your steps.

“You don't need that with him.” He joked, pointing to the notebook and continued to walk past you. It was a playful remark, nothing more than a silly comment but it got you thinking.

“I apologize for my delay, sir. I'm ready to take your order now.”

His gaze rested on your figure for a while, subtly drinking in your image before he answered with a smile.

Despite not feeling well you tried your best to present yourself in a positive way. These costumers came to this café to rest and leave the worries of the day behind. There was no need to bother them with your personal problems or cause them worry.

Yet..it still felt like he was able to see right through your facade.

“A coffee please and two Mont Blanc.”

The usual..

You wrote down his order, earning another glance from him but you continued to stay by his table even after you finished scribbling.

“Can I offer you anything else? I– I mean we noticed you sticking to this particular order every time you visit. The staff of Third Division likes to keep a close eye on their regulars and..I was just wondering if you'd like to try something different maybe..”

Those words sounded different in your head, more welcoming and alluring. But the way his eyes were staring into yours, so intense that you felt like he was poking holes through your body, it caught you off guard. But nothing could have prepared you for what he did next.

He smirked.

The nonchalant expression he usually kept on his face throughout his entire stay dropped and what now graced his face was a smug grin.

“What can you recommend?” He teased.

Many emotions rushed through your system. Surprise, shock and confusion. Was this the first time you heard him talk? At best he would mumble a small thank you when paying the bill or when stating his order but personally that was the most you heard him say. His Kansai dialect was strong and present, it surprised you. Yet something about his voice felt warm, comforting even, as if it was meant to be listened to.

“Uhm..we have a great blueberry cheesecake, it's my favorite! And of course our lemon tarts or the pistachio croissants could really hit your spot since you like nuts so much..maybe the chocolate eclairs too..” Your mind began to drift towards all the items that were currently on sale. The dreamy look on your face earned you a chuckle from the man.

“I will take the blueberry cheesecake, since that's your favorite.”

“Coming right up!”

As if all stress was forgotten and a dark cloud was lifted from the sky, you cheerfully moved back to the counter, preparing the man's order. Upon seeing how busy you got your coworker approached you, eyes scanning over the cake you were carefully placing onto a nice plate.

“Who's that for?” He asked.

“Table number three.”

“Table number three..no way!” The man's gaze moved to the table in the distance, eyes widening twice their size.

A sense of pride rushed through your body. It was something so silly to get excited over yet delivering this cake made you happy, jolly even, in some kind of way.

“One blueberry cheese cake, enjoy.” And without any more interference in his stay you let the man be. Your eyes did move over to his side every now and then, making sure that he was enjoying the food you recommended him but eventually you were so busy with your workload that you lost sight of the customer.

And when you returned from your short bathroom break you noticed that his seat stood empty.

“He just left.” Was all your coworker said, also heavily occupied with new orders.

“But he did leave this.” Holding out your hands you let your coworker drop the small item into your grip. It was a napkin. No time was wasted in unfolding the soft tissue.

That blueberry cheesecake was great! But nothing compares to the Mont Blanc and the memories it brings ╮(─▽─)╭

Still, I appreciate your effort. Keep working hard and see you next time!

A tingling sensation engulfed your heart as you read the note. Maybe it was the silly little drawing he added or him simply appreciating your effort but it had you feeling a certain way. So without thinking much you grabbed a small box, stuffed it with the two Mont Blanc and rushed out of the store, leaving a confused coworker behind.

“Excuse me!” You almost yelled out, your feet trying their best to catch up with the man. He looked just as perplexed as you when he turned around. And..worried?

“Are you al–”

“I didn't mean to mess up your routine..I'm very sorry.” You held out the small box, arms outstretched while your gaze laid on your feet. No reply followed your words, his eyes simply resting on your shaking hands but soon enough you felt a weight pull at the packet.

“It's not just about the Mont Blancs.” His fingers graced over yours as he took the box.

“Despite me ordering the same thing over and over again you continue to attentively take my order..I guess you could say that I enjoy that kind of attention.” His chuckle caused your heart to throb and skip a beat.

A strong heat creeped over your face, eyes moving into all directions simply to avoid his. But just like always, his gaze stayed strongly fixated on you.

“I will always take your order..so please keep visiting us.” Turning on your heels you waved the man goodbye and returned to the café, your smile enough to illuminate the entire street.

Hoshina smiled and waited for you to disappear into the building before he sighed. His eyes followed you attentively, never leaving your figure. Seeing you in such active motions, it filled his heart with both joy and worry.

It felt like it happened just yesterday, the incident. It was a Sunday like this one, unassuming and calm. But you don't remember most of it, just like you don't remember him. The Kaiju attack, the ambulance, his teary eyes watching you being taken into the emergency room– you don't remember how he always stayed by your side no matter what.

It was absurd of him to think that you would eventually get your memories of him back if he just kept ordering the same thing over and over again, if he kept eating the dessert you two used to make together right in front of you. Perhaps he was a hopeless guy, with the silly dream of getting his old girlfriend back, the woman who owned his heart.

You still did. There was no one who could fit the hole that your body molded. If you can't remember the time and memories you two shared he would simply create new memories with you and make you fall for him all over again.

No matter how much time it was going to take