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lustspren · 2 months

Text

Con te partirò ft Hanni

length: 12.8k words✦

Hanni & Male Reader.

Diamond Eyes AU.

genres: sub! Hanni, blowjob, oral sex, hard sex, breeding, daddy kink, creampie, fluffy, anal, car sex, love making ✧

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Did you need to rent a Ferrari? Absolutely not. Would it be worth it? Absolutely yes.

So many months of hard work streaming 8 hours a day had to somehow be worth it. You could afford it, and you were going to do it. The only bad thing about that decision was the time it took you to choose a car at the dealership. About half an hour wandering between cars until your capricious ass decided to choose the most expensive but also the most practical. A Ferrari Purosangue, the brand's newest, expensive and most innovative model. Choosing it in red would have been the most normal thing, but you chose it in all black, even the interior.

With the car already chosen, you received instructions regarding its functions and handling, upon completing it and having all the paperwork already done, you went directly to drive through the streets of Milano, your hometown. You linked your Spotify account to the car stereos through the digital panel behind the steering wheel and blasted Kanye West's Carnival at the highest possible volume without bursting your eardrums, which helped make you feel like a god as you drove past the Palazzo Reale di Milano.

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After about 20 minutes you had already made lap after lap through the city center, just enjoying the beautiful roar of the twelve-cylinder engine and your music. But just as you turned the corner after a traffic light, you received a message from the real reason you had flown to Italy from Korea in the first place.

She then sent you a full body photo of herself. You had to alternate looking between the road and your phone screen. She looked so stupidly beautiful that she made you question all your past decisions to know if you really deserved her. You came to the conclusion that you were simply an overly lucky bastard. To respond to her you had to wait until another traffic light.

After finishing talking to Hanni, you put the phone between your legs and took a new street in search of something to eat. Your stomach was growling; since you landed in Milano that morning you hadn't had the chance to even have a full meal, you had only been eating sweets that you brought with you from Korea. You were crazy to get your teeth into something, and since you were in Italy, you couldn't find a better option than going to your favorite Pizzeria in the entire city: la Zia Esterina Sorbillo on Via Agnello.

After having eaten a delicious salami and cotto pizza, you just waited in the car, parked in a square covered by the shadow of a building to your right, which you didn't mind too much considering everything the car offered in terms of comfort. It had already been an hour since Hanni had entered the event, but it wasn't until two hours later when you received the message you were waiting for.

With the green light already granted, you made the respective call before you forgot—again—, you pressed the touch button on the steering wheel to start the engine and headed to the Fonderia Carlo Macchi, the place where the Gucci event was taking place. It would be approximately 15 minutes of travel from where you were, you would have to make a good selection of music if you wanted to enjoy the journey. You started with Lord Pretty Flacko Jodye 2 by ASAP Rocky, Who Dat Boy by Tyler the Creator, 5% TINT by Travis Scott and Justify My Thug by JAY-Z.

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When you entered the Via Enrico Cosenz you had to considerably reduce the volume of the last seconds of the last song. The entire street was filled with people and camera flashes, as well as luxury cars and police guarding the perimeter around the warehouse. As soon as you approached, an officer blocked your path with a wave of his hand, you rolled down the window and he stood next to you.

"Buon pomeriggio, signore. Dove sei diretto?" he asked. You knew he did it routinely and that he kept doing it considering there were more cars behind you.

"Sono qui per ritirare uno degli ambasciatori dell'evento," you responded, one hand on the steering wheel.

"Nome?"

"Hanni Pham. Se hai bisogno di un'autorizzazione, posso ottenerla per te."

"Sì, grazie," you called Hanni's manager and handed the phone to the officer, seconds later, he returned it to you, "Avanti, buon pomeriggio."

"Grazie mille! Anche per voi," you smiled at the officer, rolled up the window again and drove until you parked next to the curb.

Parked there, you took out your phone and told Hanni that you were out. While you were waiting, you watched as the camera flashes took over the entire street. The photographers and the crowd of people were in constant movement, celebrity after celebrity being photographed as they entered their respective cars; you should have expected it, but you were still shocked to see Salma Hayek so close while she was leaving the event. You also saw Kirsten Dunst, and as a lover of Sam Raimi's Spider Man movies you couldn't help but fanboy a little.

From one moment to the next you noticed how the crowd of people began to concentrate much more towards the gate that led to the warehouse; You noticed that the flashes also multiplied. You sharpened your eyes to be able to distinguish any notable figure among the mass of photographers moving outside, until you finally saw her. Much more radiant and charming than could be seen in any photograph.

As always she saw everyone with a warm smile and she greeted all of her fans with contagious joy; she came over to sign a few autographs here and there, with camera flashes and dozens of phones pointed directly at her. You couldn't take your eyes off her for a single second; her walk was mesmerizing, from how her hips swayed from side to side to how she exuded pure class and elegance. She was fine as fuck, and she knew it perfectly.

A little more than a minute passed when the crowd finally dispersed and she could have a clear view of the road. It was then that she saw your car and had to put her hand over her mouth to cover her shock, but no matter how much she tried to hide it, you could see it in her eyes, and you were more than happy to surprise her.

She approached the passenger door, opened it, and greeted a few more fans before entering the car, where no one could see what was happening inside thanks to the tinted windows, not even from the front.

"Oh my god hiiii!" she squealed in pure happiness, lunging at you for a tight hug.

"Hello, Phampy," you smiled, reciprocating the hug and then separating, putting your hands on the wheel. You drove onto the road again, "How was everything?"

"Everything was wonderful! The organization and treatment were incredible, and I met many nice people!"

Every word she said was like music to your ears; she had one of the most beautiful Australian accents you had ever heard, and it was one of the reasons she drove you crazy.

You reached the roundabout and made a U-turn to return along the street you had arrived on.

"I also had to take a lot of photos and make videos, but it was all very nice. And my goodness! What is this car?" She laughed in amazement, examining her surroundings.

She ran her hand across the leather dashboards and touched the carbon fiber of the roof. You noticed her wanting to touch things on the touch screen she had right in front of her but she restrained herself.

"I couldn't come pick you up in a piece of tin, could I?" you saw her out of the corner of your eye, "Hanni Pham only deserves the best of the best."

"Oh yeah? That's why I have you too, right?"

She leaned towards you and grabbed you by your face to plant her lips on your cheek. You were sure that her lipstick must have been left marked on your skin.

Just when you were going to talk to her you received a call from her manager. You left one hand on the wheel and answered as you rounded the curve at the Piazza Giovani Bausan roundabout. You put the call on speaker so Hanni could hear too.

"Yeah?" you asked.

"You better take her directly to the hotel, she still has a pending appointment tonight," the manager told you from the other end of the line, the severity in her voice telling you that it was best to obey.

"You say it as if I were going to take her to Greece. Well, I don't lack the desire to do so."

"Don't even dream of it. Just take her to the hotel, please. I'll send you the location."

"Yeah yeah, chill. You know you can trust me."

"I only tolerate you because Hanni likes you. Bye," she finally hung up.

Hanni laughed at that. Seconds later you received the location of the hotel. It was the Palazzo Parigi Hotel, possibly one of the most exclusive in Milano. You weren't surprised.

"How lovely," you joked, putting the phone back in your pocket.

"I would tell you that she is just joking, but you do make her life a little miserable."

"She'll have to get used to me. Straight to the hotel then?"

"Uhm, we don't have a choice, I guess..." she said, and then she thought for a few seconds looking out the window, then looked at you again, "Daddy... Do you think this outfit suits my body?"

You knew her and that tone well enough to know where she was going with that question.

"Well, of course. That skirt highlights your hips very well... and that top makes your tits look very pretty."

You turned right and entered Via Valtellina, driving straight towards the city center. Low by SZA started playing on your Spotify, you raised the volume a little with the button on the side of the steering wheel. Hanni became thoughtful again, she looked at the road for a few seconds and then at you.

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"And... Do you think it also makes me look more fuckable?"

"Where are you going with that question, Phampy?"

She remained silent. She waited until you stopped at a traffic light so you could see her, then she slowly hiked her skirt up until it was all wrinkled at the top. Her perfect, pale pair of fleshy thighs were exposed to you, as well as her red lace panties, which you noticed were also Gucci. You were automatically turned on, but the light turned green and you had to turn your eyes to the road.

"I don’t know… you tell me."

Her hand went to your crotch, slowly squeezing and massaging the bulge in your pants. You noticed her gaze fixed on you, but you couldn't turn around in any way unless you wanted to cause an accident.

"Fuck Hanni..." you muttered, pursing your lips.

"Mmm..." she let out a subtle moan, "You're already hard daddy."

She pulled up the bottom hem of your sweater, unbuttoned your jeans and lowered your zipper to reach into your boxers and pull out your cock, which was already completely hard.

“Baby, we are in th-” you tried to protest.

"Hush. Eyes on the road."

She had seen you turn up the volume on the stereo a few minutes ago, and she used the visual information she remembered to reach her free hand over to the wheel and turn up the volume as well. A few seconds passed and the song changed to The Color Violet by Tony Lanez. You had no choice but to continue driving through the streets of downtown Milano, taking as many roads as possible to divert you from the original destination while she slowly jerked you off.

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Seconds passed. Hanni kept moving her hand up and down your cock, which was throbbing between her fingers. Her movements were slow and perfect, the months of experience you had together allowed her to know how you liked to be touched. You felt a drop of precum leak from your tip; she noticed this, and took a moment to kick off her heels, climb on her knees onto the seat and bend over towards you, leaving her butt raised toward the passenger window and her face right above your cock. Then, grabbing it by the base she took it into her mouth, her glossy lips wrapping around your shaft.

Luckily for you, just at that moment you stopped at a traffic light, which allowed you to look to the right and see Hanni's thick ass raised and adorned by the g-string she was wearing, both buttocks on full display so you could grope them and squeeze them. All the while, she moved her head up and down slowly, taking in a little more than half of your cock with each pump in a sensual, slippery blowjob.

A few seconds passed and the traffic light turned green. You were forced to look forward again, but that didn't stop you from grabbing Hanni's panties and pushing them to the side to rub your fingers on both her plump pussy and her butthole. She responded with a deep moan around your shaft. You gave one of her ass cheeks a dry spank before taking your middle and ring fingers to your mouth to fill them with saliva and take them inside her pussy. Hanni moaned louder around your cock again and increased the pace of the blowjob, taking you out of her mouth at times to fill your shaft with kisses and licks.

The song changed, now playing Bermuda Triangle by Zico, Crush and Dean, the bass from the stereos making the seats vibrate. You took your fingers deep into Hanni's pussy, and there you began pumping rapidly in and out. She matched the pace of your wrist and moved her neck accordingly, now she was giving you a sloppy, frantic blowjob.

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“Fuck,” she pulled you out of her mouth with a sharp intake of breath.

She jerked you off quickly. Your cock now completely soaked with her thick, hot saliva. When she raised her head you noticed that a string of saliva was hanging from her lower lip.

“I need you to fuck me right now daddy, I can't hold it,” she begged, placing kisses on your jaw and chin.

"I'll look for an alley to stop in."

"No," she quickly said, "You just keep driving and leave it to me."

She sat back down in her seat and raised her hips to pull her panties down her legs. When she took them off, she took them in one hand and wrapped them around the base of your cock, a detail that was enough to make you gasp. Then she maneuvered herself over to your seat and climbed on top of you, planting her feet on either side of the seat and taking advantage of her short stature so she could completely impale herself on your cock.

"Oh my god Hanni," you moaned, slowing the car down on pure instinct as she slowly went up and down on your cock.

"I really needed to feel your cock filling me again daddy... mmmh," she moaned into your neck, wrapping her arms around and clinging to it.

You thanked God that the suspension of that car was that good, it made driving in that state much easier. Still, you had to do an incredible concentration job to focus on the road with Hanni's heavenly moans in your ear distracting you.

Hanni subtly stroked the hair at the nape of your neck, tangling her fingers between your strands and giving them subtle tugs as she filled the entire side of your face with wet kisses. She started bouncing on your cock. Frantic and strong jumps that, no matter how difficult it seemed, could be heard even with the music playing at full volume in there. Ironically and completely randomly, at that moment Be Quiet and Drive by Deftones started playing.

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"I fucking missed you so much daddy... oh god!" She moaned in your ear, clinging even tighter to your neck.

There came a time when pleasure inevitably made you drive worse. You made strange gear changes, and also strange steering wheel movements. Anyone who saw the car from the outside would be alarmed thinking you were having a seizure or some weird shit, but the reality was you just had a Gucci ambassador jumping like crazy on your dick.

"You missed daddy huh? Then fucking cum on that cock," you growled, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. You entered la Corso Sempione, a wide and uncrowded street at that time. Perfect to let yourself go a little.

"Yes daddy, yes! I'll cum for you like a good girl!" she whimpered, pressing more kisses to your neck.

You roared the engine a couple of times and accelerated up the street, that made Hanni cling harder to your shoulders and crash into your pelvis much harder—apparently the speed sensation managed to give her some kind of stimulus. If she kept giving you those jumps she would probably take your breath away for a few seconds, but it didn't take long for her to explode in a tide of spasms and screams. She slumped down, lowering her knees and squeezing her thighs on either side of your hips. She ground back and forth as she rode out her orgasm, and then began to move sensually up and down.

"Fuck, I can't take it anymore," you gasped, "The hotel will have to wait a little longer."

You took a curve to the right and hit the accelerator straight ahead, desperately looking for an alley in which to stop. It was not an easy task, Milano lacked this type of space since it was full of short buildings stuck side by side, but finally you found the perfect place: the back alley of an old warehouse, to the right of which was the left fence of el Cimitero Monumentale—you were outside of it, so you weren't desecrating anything. There were a couple of cars there, but at that time no one would be out since it was still working hours. You went to the end of it, stopping when a small gate cut off the path.

You turned off the engine and could finally focus on her. You wrapped both of your arms around her perfect body and pressed her against your torso to kiss her. She moaned against your lips and cupped her hands on either side of your face to get deeper into the kiss; your tongues met and swirled around each other again and again. You moved your hands to her ass and then gave one of her butt cheeks a harder spank. She squealed and bit your bottom lip.

"Fuck me hard, daddy," she begged in a sensual, pleasure-laden voice, "Fuck me and give me all your load."

"I wouldn't want to stain that outfit in any way..." you peppered her chin and neck with kisses.

"Then make sure no drop goes to waste... put it all inside me."

"Are you sure?"

"I've been taking contraceptives for months, there won't be any problems..."

"Let's go outside then."

You opened the car door and made her get off your cock so she could get off first. You noticed the nervousness in her eyes as she looked toward the beginning of the alley, so you found it necessary to comfort her.

"Honey, I know this city like the back of my hand, no one will come here," you said, getting out of the car as well.

Those simple words seemed to make her nervousness disappear, as she immediately lunged at you with both arms around your neck and kissed you again. You wrapped your arms around her naked waist and lifted her into the air; she wrapped her legs around your torso and you took a few steps forward, positioning yourself on the side of the hood of the car and sitting her on the edge of it.

She let go of your torso and spread her legs wide, leaning back and leaning on her forearms to give you a look that you always interpreted as 'destroy me'. You pulled your pants and boxers down to your ankles, and with her panties still wrapped around the base of your cock, you sank back into her wet, warm pussy.

Hanni let out a loud moan that you silenced halfway by putting a hand over her mouth—no one would be out at that time, but you still had to be careful. She let her head hang back, and you grabbed her legs by the back of her knees to start moving your hips back and forth. You made sure she received every inch of throbbing cock with every thrust, jiggling the flesh of her thighs and her buttocks.

She was an obedient girl, so just one time of covering her mouth was enough for her to silence her moans on her own. She did it in several ways, but the most common was to put an arm around her head and press her mouth against the inside of her elbow. You thrust fast and hard, letting out grunts of pleasure as you felt the quivering flesh of her thighs between your fingers.

Hanni's eyes rolled back as you heard her let out loud squeals of pleasure. Out of the corner of your eye you saw how her toes curled. You brought her legs together and then pressed them towards her body, hammering her pussy so hard it echoed throughout the alley. You tried your best to keep your mouth shut as well, but her pussy felt so good and so wet that you couldn't help but let moans escape from your mouth.

She couldn't scream it for obvious reasons, but if she could she would have screamed at you that she was going to cum around your cock again. It wasn't necessary, you could tell by how her eyes glazed over and then she laid her back flat on the car hood. Seconds later she exploded once again, and she had to add her other arm to make sure that her intense screams of pleasure did not escape in any way.

Her pussy clenched around your cock and suffocated it, a sensation that was deadly to you and your senses. You spread her legs and now held on to her waist—which was possibly one of your favorite parts of her body— to fuck her with all your might and enter the final stretch.

Her body shook back and forth violently. She raised herself up on her elbows again and looked at you with those deep, lustful eyes again. You grabbed her by the gold necklace she was wearing and pulled her towards you to grab her neck with both hands. You pressed down with your fingers and cut off her breathing. It only took a few more thrusts for you to explode inside her.

The pleasure unconsciously made you press harder on her neck. You grunted giving her slow but aggressive thrusts, shooting stream after stream of cum into her silky pussy. She grabbed your wrists and gave one of them several pats that brought you out of your trance. You let go of her neck, noticing that you were squeezing too hard.

"Fuck... I'm sorry baby..." you gasped, still pumping until you finished draining inside her.

"You gave me the fuck I just needed today… don't apologize daddy," she managed to smile at you, even with heavy breathing.

"And what would have happened if I wasn't here? Would you have fucked some other Italian guy?" you raised an eyebrow.

"A few minutes ago I begged you to fill me to the core with your cum...," she leaned forward to give you a small kiss, "And here you are, balls deep inside me after shooting a thick, hot load straight into my womb. That makes me completely yours."

"Completely mine huh? I love the way that sounds coming out of your mouth," you cupped her face with your hands and gave her multiple short kisses on the lips.

"Yeah, and if that wasn't enough, you fucked me in a Gucci outfit, on top of a Ferrari, and in Milan. So consider yourself the luckiest guy in the world," she patted your chest a couple of times.

"I'm the luckiest guy in the world since I kissed you for the first time, Phampy," you continued to shower her face with kisses as she giggled.

"Damn, what a rizz huh?" she joked.

"Shut up dude," you laughed back.

"Hey, how much did this thing cost you? I feel like if I dent it I'll get a million dollar lawsuit."

"Two thousand euros a day, and if I want to buy it it's four hundred thousand euros. I’ll save money for it."

"Yep, I better get out of here asap," she nodded and gently pushed you back.

Your cock came out of her pussy, from which not a single drop of your cum came out. You took her into your arms and helped her off the hood. Once on the floor you removed her panties from around your cock and held them out to her.

"Nah, keep them as a souvenir," she gave you a kiss on the cheek, pulled down her skirt as if nothing had happened and got back into the car.

"Well damn, sure thing," you nodded, watching as she climbed into the passenger seat.

You pulled up your boxers and pants and got into the car again. You put Hanni's panties in the storage compartment between seats, earning a laugh from her. You left the alley, and after making sure there were no snitches around, you headed towards the hotel. After about 10 minutes you were already around the corner.

"Hey, there won't be any fans here now right?" you asked, the car stopped before turning.

"I'm sure not. But there will be later," she leaned to the right in the seat to try to make sure there was no one, "I think only my bodyguard will be there."

"I hope you're right."

Just as she said, the street in front of the hotel was completely clear. Only her bodyguard, who you recognized instantly, was there waiting patiently. When he saw you approaching with the car he approached the sidewalk, but first you made a small U-turn so that Hanni's door faced it.

"See you inside daddy," she gave you a peck on the cheek and got out of the car. The bodyguard closed the door back, and then escorted her inside.

You parked the car diagonally across the entrance, in an area marked out just for that purpose. You turned off the engine, grabbed your things and got out. You walked around the car and went to the trunk to get your backpack out. With nothing else to do out there, you crossed the street to enter the hotel lobby, which alone looked like a beautiful and elegant royal palace, made almost entirely of perfectly polished marble. Hanni wasn't there, you assumed she had gone straight to her room.

After having gone through a small security check by one of the workers, you approached the reception and began the entire procedure to get a room. Using Hanni's room never crossed your mind, it was a controlled environment that Gucci had given her and that her manager probably also used, so you were never going to have privacy. You had to get a deluxe room, which wasn't cheap at all and gave you another little pain in your wallet.

Once everything was done, you were given the key to your room. You took the elevator and went directly to your floor to look for your door. Inside the room you were greeted by a short hallway, with a small counter on the left where was a small plate with cookies and biscuits, an espresso coffee maker and a bottle of San Benedetto sparkling water. To the right was an electric door that led to the bathroom, which had a double sink and a large mirror, in front of which were first the shower cubicle and then the bathtub.

Past that hallway was finally the bedroom. The king size bed was to your right, with two nightstands on either side and a wide stool at the bottom edge. In front you had the large window, whose light was blocked by white curtains that could be folded even more to cover the window completely. To the left was a glass table with two chairs on each side and a pot with beautiful white orchids on top of it. Finally, next to you as you exit the hallway, a smaller circular table with a tray full of fresh fruits, plates with napkins and cutlery, two covered drinking glasses and a note from the hotel staff giving anyone who entered the room a welcome.

The first thing you did was drop your backpack on the bed and lie face up on it to close your eyes for a moment. After your small minute of rest, you took out your phone and told Hanni that you could come now. Not even ten minutes had passed when you heard the knock on your door. You got up and hurried to open it.

"Damn, you're fast aren't you?" you asked with an amused expression.

"Being away from you hurts my little chicken heart, don't you understand?" She stood in front of you to give you a kiss. She then walked in front of you towards the bedroom.

"You got a scolding from her, didn't you?" you sat on the stool in front of the bed to look at her.

"A small one, yeah," she sighed, "But I honestly don't care, I feel exhausted."

Having said that, she began to undress, first taking off her heels, then her skirt, her top, and finally her necklace, which she left on the table next to the orchids. The only thing she needed to take off was her black bra, and once she did she dove face down onto the bed, her feet dangling next to you.

"Go take a shower then, sweetheart," you said, climbing into bed with her, only to lie down with your face right against her ass.

You made yourself comfortable there, hugging her hips as if her buttocks were your pillow—they weren't too far from that, they were soft like cotton.

"Mmm only if you come with me," she giggled, subtly shaking her butt under your cheek.

"I should be ashamed of how easily controlled I am by this piece of meat, but it's okay, come on."

You gave her a kiss on the buttock and stood up to go directly to the bathroom. She came in behind you, and helped you undress between adorable little kisses on your lips and chin. Once you were both naked, she tied her hair in a high bun, and you entered the shower cubicle, whose space was not too big and forced you to be slightly close together the entire time—it didn't bother you at all.

You and she took a completely normal bath without lewdness. It was a purely romantic and fun experience for the two of you, where kisses and caresses were not lacking. It was the perfect example that many times intimacy was not just about sex, and you enjoyed those moments as much as the sexual ones, they made you feel that there really was something there and that not everything revolved around carnal pleasures.

Once bathed and dried you went back to the bedroom. Hanni took off the towel, untied her hair, and threw herself back onto the bed.

"Your manager said you still had a pending appointment tonight, how much time do we have right now?" you asked, taking off the towel to continue drying your hair.

"Mmm… we have three hours, then I'll be there for about two more, and after that I'll be completely yours," she told you as she crawled under the covers and settled herself towards the center of the bed.

"Aight," you nodded, leaving the towel on the floor to go turn on the air conditioning, "Anything in particular you want to do?"

"I want you to take me out to eat and drink, can you?" She asked you, covered up to her neck with the blanket.

She looked so adorable and cute that you couldn't help but grab your phone to take a photo of her.

"Hey!" she laughed, giving you the perfect smile you needed for the shot.

"Of course I can, baby," you nodded, "I know the perfect place, in fact."

"I almost forgot that you were born here. Let's see, would you say something to me in Italian?"

"Tesoro, ho bisogno di dormire perché sono seriamente esausto," you told her, going to close the curtains. The room was now left in subtle darkness.

"That was so fucking sexy, oh my god," she breathed in, surprised, "But what did you say, I know tesoro is a cute thing."

The way she said that word made you smile.

"I said I'm exhausted and I need to sleep, honey," you climbed onto the bed and got under the blankets with her.

"Well, that's timely, because so am I," she sighed, turning her back on you so you could hug her from behind.

She raised her head, and you put your arm under her so she was resting on it. Then she pressed her back and her ass against you, and you wrapped your free arm around her in a warm hug that felt like lounging at a campfire in a Dark Souls game. You buried your face between her shoulder and the back of her neck, breathing in the delicious red fruit aroma of her skin.

"Hey, how do you say I love you in Italian?" she asked in a small, soothing voice.

"Ti amo," you responded with your eyes closed.

"Then ti amo, honey… uh, how do you say a lot?"

"Ti amo tanto," you said with a giggle, and opened your eyes to place kisses on her neck and cheek.

"Yeah, ti amo tanto baby," she laughed too, and turned her head so you could kiss her lips multiple times.

"Go to sleep now, dude, you have things to do later," you gave her a couple more kisses and returned to your initial position on her back.

"Yes daddy!" She responded obediently and clung to the arm you had around her body to sleep.

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As was usual every time she and you slept together, you woke up first. You gave her a kiss on her temple and carefully got out of bed to go put on some clean boxers, brush your teeth, and return to her. You climbed onto the bed and crawled carefully.

"Honey, wake up, it's a matter of time before the harpy calls you," you said softly, shaking her shoulder lightly.

"Mmmm..." she shifted on the bed and opened only one eye to see you, "What time is it?" she asked with a frown.

"6PM."

As soon as you told the time she sat up and started rubbing her eyes, then she got out of bed and checked her phone.

"Damn, I need to hurry. They're already waiting for me in the lobby."

"Already? There's still an hour left."

"Yeah, but you know how things are," she moved around the room looking for something, "Damn, I left my luggage in the other room. There's a landline phone here too, right?"

"Uh huh, next to the bathroom."

She ran into the hallway, and then you heard her talk to her room service to bring her luggage, which arrived just before five minutes. With her clothes already in your room, she put on clean underwear and went into the bathroom for a few minutes. When she came out, she started to get dressed. All while you were checking your phone without bothering to put on anything other than your boxers.

"So, how do I look?" she told you, coming out of the bathroom for maybe the 6th time in half an hour.

You looked away from your phone and examined her from head to toe. This time she had put on a black cardigan with gold buttons, some flared jeans and a couple of elements from her previous outfit: the red heels and the gold necklace. She gave you a couple of flirtatious spins and blew you a kiss.

"As beautiful and spectacular as always," you winked and smiled at her.

"I'll be back. Wait for me right here, okay?" She approached you, placed her hand on your chest and gave you a kiss on the lips.

"I don't feel like going anywhere else without you, honey. Go," you nodded toward the exit hallway.

"I love you! See you later!" She grabbed her handbag and with the phone in hand she disappeared down the hallway.

"I love you too!"

You heard the door open and then close again, a sign that you would be alone for the next two or maybe three hours. You had slept less than three hours in twenty-four hours due to all the hustle and bustle of the trip and the trip itself, so you took advantage of the moment to sleep again.

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

A weight on top of your body and multiple soft kisses all over your face were your alarm clock. You slowly opened your eyes to find a cute smol bean straddling you, an adorable smirk on her face.

"Wakey wakey, sleeping princess," she said as if she were singing you a lullaby. You almost fell asleep again.

"Hmm?" You rubbed your eyes with your fingers and finally opened them to take a good look at her, "Did you just get here? How did it go?"

"Nope, I got here an hour ago, but I wanted to let you sleep a little more," she leaned in to kiss your cheek, "Everything went great, I had one of the best cheesecakes I've ever had in my life, honestly."

"Did you bring me sum?"

"I would have if I had paid for it," she chuckled, "come on, get up, we have a date honey."

"Has everyone left down there? I thought I heard the commotion when you arrived."

"It's 11 at night, people should sleep, right?"

"Yeah but some people are crazy. You know how things are."

"Take it easy babe, we don't have to leave the hotel together anyway. It can be like when you picked me up at the event early."

"The most discreet thing is to go out as if you weren’t going to do anything important at all, it attracts less attention."

"You just want to leave the hotel holding my hand, right?" She raised an eyebrow. You were caught.

"I mean," you pursed your lips and shrugged, "Yeah."

"Alright, alright," she laughed, "But go get dressed then, I'm ready to go."

"If you would just get off of me I could, sweetie."

"Right, sorry," she nodded, and then got off of you.

Looking back at the amount of time it took Hanni to get ready and how long it took you made you feel a little ashamed of being just a man. It had only taken you about ten minutes to get ready to leave. You combed your hair, put on perfume, and put on all your rings: two on your right hand and two on your left. Choosing an outfit was quite easy for you, especially if you took into account that you were going to have a late-night dinner in one of the fashion capitals. A white turtleneck sweater tucked into khaki pants, a dark brown trench coat, and black Chelsea boots.

During the time that you had been getting ready, Hanni was taking photos of herself all over the room, in the end she showed you one that she took in bed and another that she took in the mirror.

"You look gorgeous, what the hell. Are you gonna post them?," you asked, making a few final adjustments to the collar of your sweater.

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing, I just want you to make sure I don't show up in any mirrors or some shit," you laughed, "I'd be hung by the balls in ADOR."

"Honey, there aren't that many mirrors in the room."

"Knowing my bad luck, my stupid ass face would show up in the reflection of the bathroom mirror," you grabbed your phone and your wallet to put both things in the pockets of your trench coat.

"But it didn't, let's go!" She gestured you toward the door.

"Did you make sure no one was outside?"

"Manager nim is aware of that, as the hotel security, so we have the green light."

"Aight, but what happens away from the hotel is our business, right?"

"Yup," she nodded.

"Fair enough," you sighed, "Let's go, honey."

After making sure you didn't forget anything, you and she left the room heading out of the hotel. You were lying if you didn't say you were nervous as shit as you walked through the lobby with her holding your hand. As you walked through the revolving door of the hotel you couldn't help but think that the best thing would have been to put on a mask and a cap, the same for her, but at that point you didn't give a damn. You were just a couple of very young adults wanting to be happy together.

You left the hotel looking in all possible directions, then you crossed the street and went to your car to get into it.

"Well, that went well didn't it?" you asked, starting the engine, which roared through the block.

"I mean, I can assure you that this thing just drew all the attention here," she laughed, and you drove away from the hotel grounds.

"In this city we're used to the sound of sports cars, honey, no one cares anymore," you laughed, driving down Via Pontaccio.

"Waaaaoh, that's the most presumptuous thing I've heard you say since I've known you."

"Non è che sia una bugia, amore," you turned for a second only to blow her a vain kiss.

"Yeah yeah whatever you say Mr. Pepperoni," you couldn't help but burst into laughter, "Can I play music?"

"If you have a perfect song that's about five minutes long, go for it," you nodded, still smiling.

She, who had perfectly understood the mood and the context in which you were, played PRIDE. by Kendrick Lamar.

youtube

"Damn, this city is beautiful, especially at night, isn't it?" She said looking out the window as you passed around the Giuseppe Garibaldi statue.

"Yes it is," you nodded, "It's gotten a lot better since I left. It feels good to be back."

"Would you bring me here again? I'd love to go sightseeing here with you..." she continued looking out the window, completely mesmerized by the city.

"Of course honey. I could even take you to meet my grandparents."

She turned around with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

"What?!" She exclaimed, causing you to laugh, "Oh no no no, I'm not ready for that, shut up."

"Sooner or later you will have no escape."

"I know, but I don't want to think about it. Shut up, shut up."

After a few minutes you arrived at your destination, the Horto Restaurant, located on the Medelan terrace, a historic building that was previously known as Palazzo Broggi. Now it was full of shops, offices of major banks and conference rooms. You went up to the terrace, asked for one of the tables on the balcony and went to sit down. It didn't take long for the waiter to arrive to pick up your order.

"I didn't ask you earlier, but how the girls are?" she asked you.

You went blank for a few seconds, formulating the answer in your head because that question encompassed a significant number of girls in your life at that moment.

"Fuck, where do I start," you sighed, "Well, Sullyoon and Haewon are perfect, I haven't been able to spend almost any time with either of them because they've been busy with their activities. Chaeyoung and Sumin are on tour. Rei is giving concerts too. And Yeseo gave a concert yesterday, I think."

"And what about Jinni?" At that moment the waiter brought you two glasses of Masseto wine, "Thank youuu!"

"Grazie mille," you thanked too, "Well, Jinni doesn't talk to me anymore. I can imagine her reasons," you shrugged.

"Oh… that sucks," she grimaced.

"Yeah but I'm not at a point in my life where I want to worry too much about that. How’s Dani?" you asked her, taking a sip of your wine.

"Oh she's great!" The smile returned to her face, "She's on vacation with her family in Australia, I guess she told you."

"Yup, but I haven't talked to her in a few days. The last thing she told me was that she wanted us to meet when the three of us were back in Korea."

"Sleepover at your house?" She took the wine from her with both eyebrows raised.

"You are more than welcome," you smiled.

"Can we take Minji?"

You stopped to think about what that question entailed and you thought about it for a few seconds.

"Only if you promise to behave," you crossed your arms, looking at her with your head tilted.

"We always behave... daddy," she gave you an innocent little smile and seconds later your food arrived.

By the end of your dinner you had also finished your first glasses of wine. The next thing you did was order a dessert, along with two more drinks. She ordered a tiramisu, and you ordered panna cotta. When you also finished the dessert you stood up, wine glasses in hand, and approached the railing to admire the city.

"Gosh, what a view huh?" she said as she looked at the west wing of the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II. She took a photo from there.

"You like them?" You took a sip from your glass as you looked at her.

"Are you kidding? I feel like I'm in a Renaissance painting, it's beautiful."

You took a step back and pulled out your phone to point your camera at her as she drank wine.

"And I feel like I'm in a Michelangelo painting looking at you, sweetie."

Hanni had a small moment of panic at your compliment and put her hand to her mouth to squeal in the middle of a silly smile. It was your perfect moment to take the photo. Then you sent it to her.

"Were you waiting all night to say that line?"

"Nah, it came spontaneously from me."

"Uh-huh, you wouldn't believe it yourself," she laughed, setting her almost-finished glass back on the table to approach you, "Hey... thanks for flying all the way here just for me babe... I was feeling kind of sad to have to be here alone during such an important time."

At that moment, Vivo per lei by Andrea Bocelli was playing inside the covered area. It sounded somewhat muffled due to the distance but it was perfect for the romantic moment, because the breeze also began to blow stronger.

"You have nothing to be thankful for, Phampy. And hey, you wouldn't be alone, you'd be with the harpy," you both laughed.

"Yes, it's basically like being alone," she snuggled into your chest and looked up at you, "But seriously, thank you, it means a lot to me, honey. You're wonderful... and I love you."

You should have told her that you loved her back, after all it was the most normal thing, right? Well no. Up there, under the clear night sky of Milano and with one of the most beautiful romantic pieces in history playing in the background, the first thing that came from the bottom of your heart was to surround her waist with your arms, press her to your body and kiss her.

Hanni wrapped her arms around your neck and clung to you, stroking the hair at the nape of your neck as your lips danced together in a slow, tender kiss. What you were doing was not entirely responsible, you were in a more than public place and on a terrace from where almost anyone could see you. You knew it, yes, but you didn't care in the least. That was a significant moment for you, one that would remain embroidered in your memory and your heart forever, the last thing you needed was to worry about a random snitch.

"I love you too, Phampy," you murmured against her lips, who knows how long after you'd been kissing, "Thank you for letting me be a part of your life, this honestly feels like a dream."

"You're so cute, god, stop it," she giggled and gave you a peck, "You know, the night is still young..." she put her finger on your chin and traced soft scribbles on it, "Why don't you take me back to the hotel to put the icing on the cake?"

"By cake you mean your cake, huh?" You raised an eyebrow with an amused expression.

"By cake I mean I can't wait for you to fuck my ass today. You know what the icing is... daddy," she moved closer to your neck and gave you a quick lick so no one else would see.

"Aight, we're getting out of here."

You hurried to pay the bill (another hard blow to your wallet) and you both got out of the building, got into the car and headed to the hotel again, which you arrived in record time and probably breaking some maximum speed limits. You hurried to take the elevator and go up the hallway, but Hanni, seeing that there was no one there, couldn't hold back the urge and kissed you right there.

You moved between kisses with clumsy steps and slight stumbles, in the end you saved yourself any future effort. As soon as you opened the door you picked her up so that she clung to your torso with her legs and you entered the room. You threw her back against the bed, and being between her legs you went deeper into her kiss. All tenderness had already disappeared, now you were eating each other's mouths in a fierce and passionate way, she letting out constant little moans against your lips.

Hanni took your coat off your shoulders and you helped her by taking it off your arms—when you threw it on the floor your phone must have taken a good hit, but at that moment you didn't even think about it. She also took your sweater out of your pants and put her hands in to caress your abdomen and chest. You separated from her lips and dove into her neck to fill it with kisses and light hickeys. As you did so she pulled the hem of your sweater up to take it off as well, and with your torso now bare you returned the favor by unbuttoning her cardigan and opening it wide, to reveal her black bra underneath it.

As you took off each shoe with your feet you began to trail your kisses down to her collarbone and her shoulders, making sure not to leave any non-wet areas before moving on to the next. You focused now on her tits, which contrary to what they might seem, were not small at all. Each mound was filled with kisses and licks, but before you freed them from the annoying bra, you now moved towards your favorite part of her body.

Kissing Hanni's belly always felt like kissing a soft sugar cloud; it was so perfect that you could literally spend hours just being there, filling it with kisses and licking it multiple times. While she caressed your hair and gave it little tugs with one of her hands, you unbuttoned her jeans and lowered the zipper, and without still lowering the jeans you now kissed her lower belly and her pubes above of her panties.

"Mmm..." you heard her moan softly, "Is daddy going to eat me? I would love for daddy to eat me..."

Her low, angelic voice always managed to make you feel things, and at that moment it turned you on so much that you pulled her jeans and panties down to her knees in one tug. She gasped, seeing you kneeling in front of her with the biggest 'fuck me' eyes. You took off her heels and threw them to the floor, and with her feet now free you finished removing her jeans and panties off her legs.

She crawled into bed and laid her head on a pillow to spread her legs wide, bringing one hand to her pussy to rub it up and down with two of her fingers. You dropped onto your stomach so that your face was just inches from her crotch. Normally you would have done some foreplay and been gentle, but you were too hungry for her. You grabbed her by both her soft, fleshy thighs, and without thinking twice you buried your mouth in her pussy.

"Hmm!" she moaned louder, "Yes daddy... eat your little baby's pussy, make me cum all over your face, please..."

You could always be the top and the dominant, but the truth is you were at the complete mercy of her and her requests. If she told you to jump into a puddle of mud so she could pass, you went at record speed to do it; if she ordered you to bungee jump without any type of rope, you would jump blindfolded. That was the level of control she had over you.

With how turned on you were, you didn't bother to be passionate or sensual, you got straight to the point with intense, wet kisses up and down her slit. Hanni tangled her fingers in your hair and grabbed a handful of it to tug gently. You used your tongue to give her frantic licks up and down, the velvety folds of her beginning to get wet and delicious.

Your grip on her thighs tightened. The flesh beneath your fingers trembled, and her fingers pulling at your hair made it harder and harder. You noticed her wanting to close her thighs around your head like she always did and like you always loved it, but you wanted to make her wait a little.

"Just like that daddy… yes, yes!" She squealed, pulling harder on your hair but also stroking it knowing that she hurt you.

You pressed her thighs as far back as you could, concentrating on attacking her clit quickly and sloppily, alternating between long up-and-down licks and stimulation on her hole. With your peripheral vision you noticed how she reached one hand under her back and unclasped her bra to take it off. She just left her open cardigan on. Her beautiful pair of breasts were exposed, and you soon reached up to grope one of them.

Her thighs were already too tight to contain, so you let go, and as soon as you did she trapped your head between them in a tight, soft meat sandwich. You intensified your efforts, now also adding one of your fingers to pump it in and out of her.

"Don't stop daddy..." she gasped, "Oh my god don't stop don't stop don't stop!!"

And you didn't do it in any second. Not until the pressure on either side of your head became so strong and her body became so trembling that you knew her orgasm was just around the corner. Seconds later she came, arching her back and gripping the pillow beneath her head with both hands. You collected every delicious drop of fluids with your mouth, sucking and licking up and down her pussy until they were gone.

She finally let go of your head and relaxed her legs to the sides. You wiped your chin, and knelt up to look her in the eyes.

"Do you feel like sucking daddy's cock?" you asked, unbuttoning your pants and unzipping them.

"I always feel like sucking daddy's delicious cock..." she responded breathlessly, then sat up and took off her cardigan to throw it in with the rest of her clothes.

Already completely naked from head to toe, Hanni got on all fours and crawled up to you with hungry eyes, looking up at you when she was in front of your hard bulge. She grabbed the hem of your pants and pulled them down to your knees. Her lips were planted on your bulge above your boxers, kissing the outline of your cock and also kissing your balls. It didn't take long for the drops of precum to leak through the fabric and make a stain, which she then collected with her tongue before lowering your boxers as well.

"How can I not always want to suck daddy's cock?" she asked as she set your throbbing shaft free, "It's so juicy..." wet kisses on the backside, "So big..." kisses now on your balls, "And it fits so well in my mouth."

She gave your cock a long lick from the balls to your tip and swirled her tongue there before taking a couple of inches into her mouth. A few sucks on your tip were enough for her to take a couple more inches, then she started pumping back and forth, taking a little more than half of your cock in and out of her warm mouth.

You had a wonderful view: her beautiful arched back and her perfect upturned ass. While she slurped over and over on your cock you leaned forward slightly to grope her ass to your heart's content. You squeezed each of her ass cheeks hard, and also gave a couple of spanks hard enough to make her moan around your cock.

She pulled you out of her mouth with a sharp gasp of air and spat a large amount of saliva onto your cock to jerk you off quickly. She looked into your eyes for a few long seconds, her mouth purposely half open so you could see how a thread of saliva dripped from her lower lip onto the bed.

"Does daddy want to fuck her little baby's mouth?" she asked, then started sucking your balls and filling them with saliva.

"If you promise to be a good girl and swallow it all..."

You grabbed a handful of her hair and made her lift her head slightly to lick all the way from her chin to her upper lip. That made her moan.

"I'm always a good girl... you should know that daddy… Now put that hot load down my throat,"

By her saying that you forced her to return to her initial position. She opened her mouth wide and stuck her tongue out as far as she could. You gathered as much of her hair as you could into a ponytail and held it to take your cock into her mouth. You let out a long gasp, starting to pump your hips back and forth.

Hanni stuck to being a good girl as if it were a divine commandment. She remained with her tongue hanging out and her mouth wide open; it didn't matter how deep you pushed or how fast you did it, she always did what she knew you would love. And in that moment, as you fucked her mouth faster and faster, you felt like you were going to explode at any second.

She wasn't able to take you all the way down her throat, but she did such a good job with her tongue that you didn't care at all. Her saliva began to spill down her chin, bubbling and falling to the mattress with each thrust. You moaned loudly, releasing her ponytail to now grab two handfuls of her hair with both hands, then you began to move her head against your cock.

The frantic gag sounds were like music to your ears. You growled, releasing one of the fistfuls of her hair to give her a harder spank that made her moan again. The vibrations sent to your cock were the finishing touch that with a couple more pumps, made you explode inside her mouth. You buried her head against your cock as much as you could, shooting your entire load down her throat.

"Oh yeah... take it all baby," you gasped, hearing her cough and seeing the veins in her neck pop out.

She closed her lips around your cock so that no drop of cum would escape as she swallowed it all. You stroked her hair and then the side of her face, as a reward for swallowing your entire load once your orgasm passed. You pulled your cock out of her mouth, and she took a sharp breath. Multiple thick strings of saliva connecting the tip of your cock to her lips.

"See daddy? I'm always a good girl... I swallowed it all," she stuck her tongue out for you to check.

"And since you're such a good girl..." you leaned in to give her a kiss on the forehead and another on her nose, "You deserve for daddy to make love to you."

Hanni's face lit up like a streetlight and a smile spread from ear to ear. She knelt and then fell back to lay on her side, her head on the pillow.

"Come here and kiss me then, dear," she said back in her small, soothing voice.

You raised knee by knee and finished removing your pants and boxers off your legs; then you lay down on one side of her and pressed her back and your chest together. You repeated your same sleeping position, her lying on top of your right arm and her entire body against yours. Only this time you took your cock with one hand and made her put her ass back, so you could make your way between her buttocks and find her pussy, which you rubbed several times with your tip. Your cock was already well lubricated and her pussy extremely wet, so it took no effort at all to take your entire cock inside her in one smooth motion.

"Mmm..." she let out a long, adorable moan. You hugged her with both arms and began to shower her jaw with kisses, "God..."

You began to move your hips slowly, taking the entire length of your cock in and out of her wet pussy with sensual movements. It was the perfect moment for you both to enjoy each other's bodies as much as you could. With your right hand—the one around her neck—you grabbed one of her tits and massaged it, playing with her nipple from time to time. With your left hand you explored every possible corner of her body within your reach; you started with her perfect belly, caressing it from top to bottom with the palm of your hand; then your hand went to her soft thighs, squeezing one of them and later moving to her ass, which you also squeezed hard.

From her position Hanni couldn't do much, but she used what little mobility she had to caress your hair, the side of your torso, your hips and finally your butt, which she also squeezed before turning to look at you. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyebrows were arched in pleasure. She looked at your lips, and pulled you towards her to kiss her.

While you shared a kiss full of passion and small moans you lifted one of her legs, holding it by the back of her knee and pressing it against her torso. Hanni moaned louder against your lips, and you did it back, feeling in absolute heaven as you fucked her with slow, strong, deep pumps.

"Oh my god... you drive me so fucking crazy darling..." she murmured against your lips between gasps.

"You drive me crazy too, baby..." you bit her lower lip, then looked into her eyes, "I absolutely love every part of you... you're so fucking perfect."

You gave her a few harder, faster thrusts for a few seconds, now kissing her chin and neck. She pulled you gently by her hair.

"Absolutely every part of me is yours... my entire fucking existence belongs to you, fuck," she moaned, breathing becoming louder and more ragged.

You let go of her leg and let it fall back so that it was bent toward her body. Now you rested that hand on her soft waist, holding on there with your fingers as hard as you could.

"Say it... tell me you're completely mine," you murmured against her neck, which you then bit gently.

"I'm completely yours, damn it! And I love you so much that I wouldn't mind being it forever! Fuck!!"

That last sentence of hers, said between loud moans and gasps, was the precursor to one of the strongest orgasms you could ever cause in her. She clung to your right forearm with both hands, letting out beautiful squeals of pleasure that urged you to kiss her again. You fucked her non-stop during her orgasm, which made her writhe in your arms and let out a small load of hot fluids that you felt soaked part of your cock.

"And you..." she whispered, "You are completely mine," she looked into your eyes, "You belong to me. Every part of you, from head to toe. Everything about you says Hanni Pham’s property."

Her words were a breaking point for you. You couldn't take it anymore, and with a sudden burst of energy you forgot that you were making love to her. You fucked her as fast and hard as you could, holding on to one of her tits as if your life depended on it and putting such pressure on her waist that it could very well hurt later. You buried your face in her neck once more, and it only took a few seconds for you to explode inside her again. This time filling her pussy with so much cum that you felt like it was already spilling out after a couple of pumps.

"Oh yeah... give me all that load dear, put it all inside me, fill me and make me more yours than I already am..." she said in a low voice as you spilled the last drops.

"You're lucky you're on the pills..." you mumbled between tired breaths, "Because if you tell me that I just want to put a baby in you."

"Right now it's impossible... in the future, who knows."

You looked up to look at her for a few seconds and then kiss her again as you let your cock slide out of her pussy—forming a massive pool of cum on the mattress that you didn't bother to clean up at the time. You two completely lost track of time, two minutes or two hours could have passed while you were kissing. You didn't know, what you did know is that it didn't end there. And also that you already felt ready for one last round.

"The icing is still missing on the cake... don't you think?" you asked, and she gave you a mischievous smile.

"Did you bring lube? I didn't think I'd need it."

"Unlike you..."

You got out of bed and went to your bag, you dug to the bottom of it and took out the water-based lubricant that you and she always used.

"I'm always prepared for anything," you winked at her and went back to bed.

"How do I know you haven't had it there since you went to fuck Haewon or some shit like that?" she raised both eyebrows in an expression that made you laugh.

"As real as that sounds to you and me, no. I put it there thinking exclusively of you," you gave her a peck on the lips and gave her a little spank.

"Wow, that's thoughtful, isn't it?" you noticed the sarcasm in her voice, "Does that mean you really fucked her ass?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask her?"

You grabbed her by the waist and forced her onto her stomach, then she herself lifted her butt and got on her forearms and knees for you. You settled on your knees behind her pretty round ass, your cock resting between her butt cheeks.

"Because I don't care, no ass will feel better than mine to you."

She looked over her shoulder at you with a mischievous expression and arched her back even further, pressing the side of her face into the bed. You took the bottle of lubricant and started pouring it all over her ass, including your cock in the middle. After having poured a not at all modest amount you put the bottle aside and began to spread the liquid, making her pale buttocks so shiny that they reflected the ceiling lights. You repeated the process with your cock, and then used your fingers to spread it into her butthole as well.

"That's a pretty humble take, huh?" you imitated the sarcasm in her voice.

"Put that cock in there and you'll find out, daddy," she returned to the spiciest tone of voice, the one that made you fuck her in the middle of an alley.

You didn't make her wait. You took your cock in one hand, pressed it against her butthole and slowly sank into it. She frowned and moaned, engulfing your cock inch by inch until it disappeared between her ass cheeks. You let your pelvis rest against her ass, all the while you just looked at her.

"Fuck, maybe you're right. I don't think there's an ass that feels as good as this one."

You gave one of her buttocks a hard spank, the hardest of the night, and repeated the same with the other. Hanni let out little squeals at both of them. You began to move slowly back and forth, slow pumps at first to let her walls get used to it.

"Is this daddy's favorite ass then? Hm?" she asked with a provocative tone.

Certainly Haewon's ass was a strong contender, and Rei's wasn't that far off either, but you had to give in to the truth.

"Yes it is..." you replied as you made circles on her buttocks with your hands, "now shut up and let daddy pound it really good."

As a good man of your word you did so. You clung to her waist with both hands, making sure she was looking at you before you began to increase your pace. With each thrust Hanni's face twisted more and her face became redder with pleasure. Her body shook with increasing violence as your pelvis slammed harder against her ass and filled the room with the sound of your lewd act.

"Give me your damn hands," you ordered, and she obediently put her hands behind her back.

You put her hands on top of each other and then grabbed both of her forearms with your hand. With that point of grip you began the real action, now fucking her ass in such a way that even that bed squeaked every few seconds. You raised your free hand and gave her another hard spank.

"Oh fuck!!" She squealed, "Give me more daddy! Let your good girl's ass fucking red!!"

You switched the hand you had on her forearms and now gave her other buttock a series of consecutive spanks that made her scream into the sheets. You didn't stop until her right buttock was as red as a tomato, and then you repeated the process with the other. With Hanni's request fulfilled, you brought her knees together and made her lie on her stomach to now fuck her prone bone.

"Now you feel kinky huh?" you growled.

You let go of her forearms and leaned forward, grabbing a handful of her hair and lifting her head just to shower her neck with kisses. Hanni clung to your neck with one hand and you felt her grip her fingers around it. You pumped up and down as hard as you could, pinning her against the bed.

"I-I..." she stuttered, "D-Daddy, I'm going to... HMMM!!"

Just before she finished her sentence you noticed all the muscles in her ass tighten around your shaft. Hanni's legs began to shake, and she rolled her eyes back as she grunted in pleasure. You stood up straight again and released the handful of her hair with a sharp downward push. She leaned on her hands and watched you over her shoulder as you continued fucking her ass.

"So? What are you waiting for to put the icing on the cake daddy?" she raised an eyebrow letting you know that she was ready for more.

"I hope you know how to hide the pain in your legs, you slut."

You pulled out of her ass and made her lie on her back. She spread her legs wide, gripping her own thighs, and you returned inside her butthole with a single strong thrust. Now you were looking into her eyes, and she was looking straight back at you. You let her take care of holding her legs, and you concentrated on bringing her hands to her neck to press your fingers around it.

"I don't care about the damn pain..." she managed to say through her throat slightly clogged by your fingers, "Just put all that load inside me, daddy..."

You didn't need to remember how much power she and her words had over you, but those damn words made you feral. You removed her hands from her thighs and grabbed them yourself, only to pull them back and press them tight against her torso. You leaned forward, and placed your hands on her sides to use your body as weight.

Now your face and hers weren't too far from each other. She cradled your face with her hands, and made you stare at her while you pounded her ass like an animal. The tide of stimulus soon became too strong. Her deep eyes fixed on you; her blushing cheeks; her mouth half open and gasping with pleasure; her sweaty skin constantly rubbing against yours; and above all, her incredibly tight ass, which in a few seconds brought you to one last orgasm.

"Mmmghh!!" you growled, tensing all the muscles in your neck as you gave one last hard push down.

"Hmm!!" She moaned with you, "That's it daddy, give it to me all... all of it!!"

You didn't hold back the urge to kiss her as you shot thick jets of semen into her ass, now giving slow, deep thrusts so that she felt absolutely every drop of it filling her. She moaned against your lips, and released her legs from the pressure of your body to wrap them around your torso. Then she wrapped her arms around your neck as well, and once again, you kissed for longer than you could imagine.

"What a way to end the night, huh?" you asked between labored breaths once you maked out for about five minutes.

"Oh yeah..." she nodded, placing kisses on your chin and another on your nose, "It was more than necessary."

"Are you flying to Korea tomorrow?"

"I think so, and you?"

"I don't know, I might stay here a couple more days before I take the flight."

"And keep paying for that damn beast down there?" she laughed.

"Oh hell no, our mechanic friend already did his job perfectly. But maybe you'll see him again in Korea."

"Then I'll pull your ears for spending that kind of money."

"It's not like you didn't like it," you laughed.

You stood up and started looking for things for you and Hanni to clean up. Once both bodies were clean, you turned on the air conditioning and turned off the lights. Now you only had the light from one of the lamps on each side of the bed. You settled under the blanket, she clinging to you with her arms and legs like a koala clinging to her branch.

"I love you, Phampy... sweet dreams," you kissed her forehead and then her lips.

"I love you too dear… thank you for being here with me," she said softly before closing her eyes.

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

Spren Notes: Well, first of all, I must apologize once again for filling this piece with so much Italianness everywhere lmao. It was necessary. This is probably the most personal and close to my heart piece I have ever written. I just hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

#hanni smut #newjeans smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #male reader smut #x male reader smut #x male reader #male reader insert

2K notes · View notes

ahundredtimesover · 1 month

Text

I Want You to Stay (10) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; mentions of childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; mention of implied of domestic violence (PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 20.6k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii we're close to the end! I've been enjoying this journey with all of you; thank you for being patient, and again for all your love and appreciation for this story. 🥰 Updates will continue to take longer as I continue to work and study. On another note, pls savour this! Hehe

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

The weekend after your site visits passes by excruciatingly slowly.

You zone out while watching your variety shows the rest of Saturday. On Sunday, you do errands and clean your apartment. Whether you’re lying on the couch or moving about, you find yourself constantly stopping, wondering how Jungkook is doing.

You could say that the trip ended on a good note. The drive back home had you sharing both the silence and conversations about growing up with your friends and finding refuge in your favorite places. He was smiling as you narrated your stories and while he told his. He was engaged most of the time, drifting away for only some short moments before coming back to you.

There was a different emotion in his eyes when you said your goodbye after he dropped you off, though. You could see gratitude in them but also sadness, as if the memories from the night before and from 20 years ago lingered. You know enough about that, too. Good memories can override bad ones sometimes, but in some cases, they only do so for a while, and they can only do so much.

The image of him of looking afraid from that Friday night is etched in your mind. The way he heaved, how he gripped your wrists as if in desperation for the sounds to stop, and the emptiness in his eyes as the thunder continued to roar keep you up at night.

You felt so constrained at that moment. There wasn’t much you could do that would be appropriate, but it doesn’t mean that you didn’t wish you could’ve done something more to comfort him, to tell him that no matter how scared he was, he wasn’t alone. That night and the morning after, you saw the most human side of Jungkook - the one that buries a lot of memories, that deals with pain and loneliness, the part that’s fearful of others seeing him stripped bare, that cowers in his own corner until the storm has passed. You saw him as someone who needs a companion but is too scared, maybe too stubborn to reach out. He looked familiar because he looked like you.

All you could do was hold him in any way, protect him from the monsters outside and maybe within, and show him that whatever hurt, gentleness could make it hurt less; hopefully it could slowly heal the ache, too.

That’s what you learned all these years - all the fear and pain you experienced as a child slowly turned into scars because of your mother’s grace and your best friends’ kindness. You don’t know who gives any of that to Jungkook, and you hoped that during that moment, you were able to give even just a fraction of what you received.

Even if he kept his distance, you stayed close because you knew that that’s when he needed you the most. And you won’t ever forget the way his eyes softened during that ride home; you won’t forget the smile tinged with apology and gratitude that accompanied the silence. You knew it was his way of expressing emotions he couldn’t verbalize and you could only wish that he knew that you accept them, that you understand.

You stop yourself from sending him messages a few times, not wanting to invade his space if he prefers to be alone. Maybe he’s figured out a way to cope. Maybe he’s moved on from the incident and wants to just forget about it. Regardless, the last thing you want is to push him away by being too close, so you do the hard thing and wait for the start of the week to see him again.

You enter the car that Monday morning with Mr. Ri’s soft eyes greeting you. You ask if he’s feeling better and he says he is, expressing his disappointment at not being there to drive you and Jungkook last week.

“How was he?” He asks, knowing that the weather was pretty bad.

“He wasn’t good,” you answer dejectedly. “I think he had a nightmare. I had to calm him down. And he… he told me what happened at that cabin when he was young. I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“It was. He was just a kid. He was only excited about the trip because he thought his parents were joining him and his brother,” the elder man says. “And well, that was when they had to be separated for safety reasons. Then that incident happened. I think he’s carried that resentment towards them ever since.”

“Were you there?”

“I was the one who found him,” Mr. Ri answers, baring his own pain at having witnessed a young Jungkook being so scared. “I noticed he was missing and I searched for over an hour. It was a big area and the ground was wet and I couldn’t hear him because of the rain. When I finally found him, I carried him back and stayed with him until he woke up. He was so frightened and he… he wasn’t the same after. There was this constant fear and this desire to just be left on his own.”

You force the scene of a young Jungkook yelling for someone under the rain out of your mind. Perhaps the detachment in his eyes that you always see is a remnant from that time when he’d felt so helpless and alone. You don’t know how someone can carry that with them for 20 years. You don’t know how someone heals from that either.

“I know he’s not your responsibility, ___. You’ve done so much for him already,” Mr. Ri continues in your silence. “But no one has shown him kindness the way you have and he's learned to accept that now. He needs it the most during those times. If it’s not too much, I hope you can continue doing that.”

“I intend to,” you respond. It had been natural for you to be gentle, to be patient, and reluctant he may have been at the start, you know your persistence helped him as well. “He’s done so much for me and I don’t think I’ll ever get to thank him for that.”

“Is that why, then?” He wonders. “Is all this just to repay him for the times he was there for you? Or is there another reason?”

You meet his eyes in the rear view mirror and the sullen, almost guilty look in yours tells him that there's more. When you look away, he learns it’s something you don’t want to accept, something you don’t want to acknowledge.

“It’s okay, you know?” He says, as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking and maybe he does. “We can’t help what we feel sometimes.”

“It doesn’t mean it’s right.”

“It doesn’t mean it’s always wrong.”

“You know it’s not that simple,” you sigh.

“I know it isn’t. But I just think that being honest about what you feel helps. It may not be easy but you owe it to yourself to find the happiness you deserve.”

“But I don’t know what that looks like.”

“You do,” he insists. “Maybe you’re just scared of what chasing it would mean. But if you allow yourself to truly feel what you feel, then it would be clear what you’d need to do. Just remember that whatever decision you make, you’re gonna have to stand by it, okay? You can’t regret any of it.”

You let his words settle, knowing that they come from a place of pain. But still, you ask a question you’ve been meaning to for a while now.

“Do you regret the decision you made back then?”

Mr. Ri prolongs the silence. He doesn’t meet your eyes when he answers.

“Everyday.”

Your heart breaks for him. You know what he did all those years ago, and knowing that it continues to haunt him pains you. You don’t want that burden. You don’t want one decision to determine how the rest of your life is gonna go with no way to make up for it. You suppose that’s what will happen to you, but you’ve got time to change all that. Maybe you just need the courage to do it.

“The debt I owed kept me from chasing my happiness,” he continues. “You’ve paid yours so don’t let it stop you. You just have to be brave enough for it.”

You nod, meeting his eyes through the mirror this time in understanding and gratitude, letting his words comfort you as you exit the car.

You walk towards Jungkook’s penthouse in anticipation, as the worry of how he’s been creeps in again. The moment you enter, you get your answer, as you hear the sound of leather hitting leather, the loudest it’s ever been. You could hear him heaving, almost breathless with every movement, but he grunts in between, and you hear the frustration in his every breath.

From your position in the kitchen, you can see him in the far right corner of his gym, throwing one punch after another, his face wincing in pain, his body gradually giving in as he slows down. He hugs the punching bag with one arm while his free hand continues to jab at it until eventually, that stops, too. He releases it then spreads his body out on the floor as he tries to catch his breath now. You can feel his exhaustion; there’s desperation, too.

He stays there for a while, and you wonder if he’s releasing whatever negative emotions he’s had these past days just now, or if this is what he’s been doing everyday since he got back.

He sits up, and you look away the moment he glances at your direction. He heads your way, nods at you in acknowledgment, then gulps down the energy drink that he takes from the fridge. His drenched white shirt sticks to his body, but it’s his bruised knuckles that catch your attention. You don’t know if these wounds are from this morning or from the days before but regardless, he acts as if they’re not there. You doubt if he even feels them sting.

Perhaps this is how he copes with anything - tiring himself out, expending all his energy until he’s numb, releasing his emotions in a way that doesn’t require him to be honest or to even say anything. Maybe this is how he accepts; maybe it’s how he moves on and forgets.

He drags himself towards his bedroom then you make your way to his closet to prepare his clothes. You return to the kitchen soon after and decide to make some fried rice. It’s the one dish you make that might make a difference to his mood this morning, so you get to work and cook with what you can, deciding that it’s definitely one of the most delicious ones you’ve ever made.

He finishes his morning routine later than usual. When you walk towards him to fix his tie, you try to hold his gaze, wanting to tell him in your own way that you’re there if he ever wants to talk, but he only glances at you before looking away. You’re unsure of the cause of his somber disposition but the sadness in his eyes causes a crack in your heart. It’s different, you think, and you don’t know how else you can comfort him.

“I made some fried rice,” you tell him as you walk to the dining table.

He follows, taking his seat then quietly eating his meal as you go through his schedule. He merely hums and doesn’t ask questions, only speaking up when you bring up last week’s site visits, with him saying that there’s no rush for that, and that you’ll talk about it some other time. It’s what tells you that what happened last Friday isn’t something he’s really gotten over. Maybe there are still remnants from that night - of fear, of discomfort; perhaps a bit of shame. And you don’t blame him. They’re what you felt after the incident at the restaurant and after your injury. Being helpless in front of someone is confronting; there’s so much of yourself that gets exposed, and you suppose it’s not something that Jungkook is used to.

You share in the silence, glancing at him to see if what you’ve prepared is affecting him in any way, and you don’t miss the subtle satisfied look he makes once he finishes his meal. It’s what prompts you to push it a little. You stand up, take an ice pack from the fridge, then retrieve the first-aid kit from the drawer. Taking a seat next to him, you lay your palm out on the table, gesturing for him to give you his hands to treat.

“There’s no need,” he says, turning away again.

“I let you push my wheelchair,” you remind him. “And I let you dress my foot.”

“You were injured.”

“And you have gashes on your hands,” you point out. “Which means you’re wounded and you can’t leave those exposed. So please, would you let me do this for you?”

There’s a hint of desperation in your voice, as if all you want is for him to give in and let you help him. You’ve been trying to meet his eyes since you arrived and he’s been the coward who avoids it every time. But the last thing he wants is for you to think that he wants to push you away because he doesn’t; he just doesn’t know how to act around you after what happened last Friday. It may have ended with your unspoken forgiveness and your smile telling him that he’ll be alright, that you’ll be alright, but the past days haven’t been good to him.

In an effort to show you that he’s not angry, he moves his hand towards yours ever so slightly. He doesn’t look at you when you take his left hand and put it over your palm, but he does feel his heart skip a beat at your touch. You place the ice pack over his knuckles, then you move it over to his other hand so you can put antiseptic cream on the one that’s free.

You’re so gentle with him even when tending to his wounds. But that shouldn’t come as a surprise, especially now, as he sees you make an effort in letting him know that everything’s okay and that you’re around in case he needs anything.

The thing is, he doesn’t know what he needs right now. After last week’s incident when he blamed you for not checking the weather, he felt ashamed. He’d apologized for how he used to treat you right before that, and then he went ahead and did all that again over a fear of his that he couldn’t get over, one that came to light that night.

You saw it all - that part of him that he despises, that he keeps hidden, that he’s burdened by.

That was another thing - you were the one who woke him up and kept him steady. Perhaps it was a nightmare he was having, but it’s also always been the way his body reacted to the rain and the thunder because of what happened when he was a child. But you saw him bare and terrified, a side of him he wasn’t sure you’d want to see or be around for. You saw him weak and helpless, things he never wants to be in front of other people. You experienced him being honest and not in control, and that made him feel unguarded.

You held him steady though, grounding him when he was slowly losing himself to the fear. Your hands on his head kept him in the present, pulling him back when his mind would travel to that fateful rainy evening in the woods. Your calm and soft voice sounded like a lullaby to him, fighting away the loud sounds that have haunted him for years. It soothed parts of him that were hurting, and you’d done it so naturally, so easily.

It’s what prompted him to share with you the memory he just can’t erase. And you told him that he could call you when it happened again so you can both replace the bad memories with good ones. Maybe you want him to be brave; he thinks that’s not something that he is.

Maybe that’s why he’s been this way since he got home that day. There’s a lot of emotion he doesn’t know how to express nor even properly name. He’s sure they’re negative though, and somehow that makes him even more ashamed. He doesn’t like not being in control. He doesn’t like being that bare and uninhibited, especially in front of you, the only person he doesn’t want to scare away.

He spent the entire weekend boxing and running around the Han River parks in hopes that all the tiredness would help keep his mind off things. But somehow, it always ended up thinking of you. It wanted to hear your voice once more; it wanted your touch.

He has them again today and he feels undeserving. Yet you’re here, healing his physical wounds and everything else that’s hurting within in the ways only you know how to. And he just wants to pull you close. He realizes now that even on days when he hates himself, you’re the one he wants to be around. Somehow you make that hate a little less than before.

“All done,” you say after placing the fabric bandage on his knuckles. “Minimal movements, okay? And ice them when you can in case something’s swollen.”

“I will,” he says softly, retrieving his hand and feeling your touch still linger, knowing he wants more of it.

You proceed to discuss some events he needs to attend all the way to the office with no mentions of how either of your weekends went. He wonders how you spent yours, hoping it was better than his. He wonders, too, if you thought about him the way he thought about you. But you seem focused on work matters for today, perhaps thinking he doesn’t want to talk about anything else. And you wouldn’t be wrong.

He gets to his room where he sighs in relief once he sits on his desk chair. It’s now that he feels the soreness and fatigue, as all he wants is to go home and lay in bed for the rest of the day. But he can’t afford that, so he pushes on, surviving a morning meeting and slowly going through each of his emails. He’s surprised when you serve him his favorite beef brisket for lunch, and your soft smile as he thanks you is his bright spot for the rest of the afternoon.

He powers through reviewing documents right after but his eyes start falling, prompting him to just lean back on his chair for a good few seconds before getting back to work. You knock on the door not long after, and then you place a cup of chamomile tea on his desk.

“I need about five espresso shots, Ms. Cho, not this,” he sighs, the tiredness in his voice evident. But you don’t seem taken aback by his words.

“I disagree, sir,” you reply. “This is to help you calm down. There’s also a couch right there. There’s a reason why it’s big and comfortable.”

He picks up on what you’re suggesting, and he shakes his head in response.

“I’m not gonna sleep here.”

“No one will know,” you shrug. “But you know it’s okay, right? I can’t imagine how tired you must be. You’re not Superman, Mr. Jeon. Plus, Mr. Jung would take naps here after long nights or during hectic days. It’s normal. And it might just be what you need.”

“I’ll decide what I need, Ms. Cho,” he says defensively. “I wouldn’t want my staff sleeping on the job so why should I?”

Jungkook regrets the words right as he says them, especially when he sees your face fall the tiniest bit. But you recover, saying that you understand then turning to head out. But you fix the pillow on the couch and place the blanket on the armrest before leaving, and he knows that your stubbornness is often a reflection of how you care.

So he takes a sip of the tea and eventually finishes it, indulging you in this way, but given the morning he’s had, his body gives in. He decides, like you said, that he needs a nap, and he doesn’t miss the victorious smile on your face that he sees from inside when he calls to instruct you not to disturb him for the next half hour.

With the dim lights and air purifier, he falls asleep right as his body hits the couch. When he wakes up 30 minutes later, he feels infinitely better; now he can focus and be productive.

You see the lights turn back on from outside and it’s your signal that he’s woken up from his nap. You wait a while before asking to enter his room to say that his father requested a meeting due to start in an hour. Jungkook’s putting his coat back on and you walk towards him to help.

“Was it good?” You ask, fixing the creases and aligning his necktie.

“Yeah,” he hums, not meeting your eyes again. “You were right, I needed that. And the couch really is comfortable.”

“That’s good. You should listen to your assistant more often,” you tease.

“I really should,” he smiles now, soft and reserved. “But I do feel better. Thank you.”

You exit his room and feel accomplished. You believe, like what others have told you, that showing him a bit of gentleness will prompt him to be a little gentler to himself, too. He works too hard sometimes, and taking a break when he needs it is one thing, but of course, it’s not everything.

The rest of the week goes by fairly similarly. Jungkook always looks tired, and it makes you wonder if he’s able to sleep properly at night or if he just overexerts himself during his morning workouts. He’s quiet when you’re not discussing work matters, making you miss your casual conversations. And though he acknowledges your occasional teasing remark, he doesn’t tease back like he’s been doing recently.

He has his moments of frustration but he’s mostly serious when you glance at him. He’s less engaging, too, and you suppose that’s what bothers you the most, as you realize that you enjoy talking with him, you enjoy getting to know him through your exchanges, allowing you a peek into his world that you know is reserved for very, very few people.

You suppose that whatever he’s dealing with is something he wants to go through on his own. Accepting your fears is one thing; accepting that you exposed all those to someone else is another. It’s why you try, in your own ways, to lift his spirits, wanting to let him know that he has nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to you.

You get him lunch from his favorite restaurants everyday, you add sweets to his servings of coffee or chocolate milk, you smile at him more, encourage him frequently, and during the times when he seems distant, you don’t completely move away. You reach out just a little bit, hoping that he’ll know that you’re around even when he doesn’t feel much like himself. You don’t want to match his detachment with your own.

It seems that you got your point across. On Friday, he dismisses you after he insists that he wants to stay back to work on a few things.

“___,” he calls out as you’re about to exit his room. “Thank you for being patient with me this week. I… I needed that.”

You turn around and Jungkook doesn’t shy away from meeting your eyes this time. He’s noticed you try to hold his gaze all week; you always lingered, too. Maybe it’s your way of comforting him or saying that you understand him. He felt both of those but he couldn’t find it in him to acknowledge them. There was a lot on his mind as he dealt with the frustration and shame of what happened, of how exposed and unguarded he was in front of you.

But you didn’t complain; you didn’t push him to engage or share anything. Even his moments of frustration were met with kindness and his silence was received with assurance. You tried to cheer him up in whatever way you could, and he could feel you just giving him time to be on his own.

He hopes he didn’t push you away. There were so many times when he just wanted you around so he could see more of your smile and hear the calmness of your voice; those always made him feel better. Whatever fears he had about how you would think of him after the incident have dissipated, as you look softly at him in understanding. He doesn’t need to say anything more, as you seem to know exactly what he means because this whole time, you seemed to also know exactly what he needed.

“I hope you’re feeling better, Jungkook,” you smile. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Jungkook returns to his usual self the week after. He says he went to one of their properties in Gwangju over the weekend where the weather was good and the long drive helped him stay focused and rejuvenated. He doesn’t say much of what he’s feeling and you expect that, but you’re glad his little trip gave him some peace somehow.

You, on the other hand, were left to deal with your growing feelings for him while downplaying them to your best friends. They came over for their regular visit on Saturday and while they were sympathetic with Jungkook over what happened, they still reminded you to be cautious. Once you cross a line, there’s no going back, and once you fully admit to what you feel, you can’t unfeel it; not acting on it becomes too hard and in your case, complicated.

The week is like any other but with much anticipation, given the upcoming annual team building that everyone’s excited about. This is one of the things that the support team was worried wouldn’t happen under Jungkook’s leadership, but you assured them early on that it was mandatory. And with him having loosened up and feeling more comfortable around them, you have high hopes that he’ll enjoy it as much as everyone will.

It’s why on that Saturday, you find yourself in the mall to buy the things that you’ll be needing for those three days that you’ll be spending in one of the Jeon properties in Gangwon. The venue changes every year and the villas by the lake are perfect for spring this time. Your shopping list includes all the materials for the activities and some other things Jungkook requested, like a certain book that he doesn’t have time to buy.

You enter a bookstore and as you try to find what you’re looking for, something else catches your eye. You may love the library for the space more than the books, but there will always be those that pull you in and make you curious. Even if you only read picture books when you were younger, there were a few short stories and poems that piqued your interest. You never finished them but you did manage to get through several pages.

The one right in front of you - with its pastel colored cover and simple yet intriguing design - feels like one of those. To your delight, it’s a short story collection, and your smile is immediate as you go through the pages, with each story being accompanied by illustrations that feel so personal. This would be a nice read while you’re lounging at the villa’s deck or even on your balcony, you think.

Another book catches your attention. The title is familiar, and you realize it’s one of the classics that you were required to read in high school. It has a new cover, and you see that it’s a new edition to celebrate its 30th year. You go through the pages as well, thinking back to when you had to force yourself to finish this some 15 years ago. It looks more fresh now, and definitely more enticing.

“Did you find what you’re looking for?”

You look up to find a tall man with deep-set eyes as the owner of the voice who’d interrupted your moment of book appreciation.

“I’m okay,” you dismiss him. “I don’t need assistance.”

You politely smile then return the books in their respective spots, ready to head out and search for what you came here to buy.

“Are you not going to get those?” The man presses. “You seemed to be interested in them and—”

“Were you watching me?” You ask, taken aback.

“Uh, no. I mean, not in the way you think,” he answers in panic, seemingly nervous at how it looks. “I wasn’t being creepy or anything I just… I…”

“Do you even work here?” You interrogate him, your alarm bells ringing at this man’s odd behavior and the absence of a nameplate that the other staff have on.

“I actually work for the company that published those books,” he says, his head down as if in embarrassment. “And we just put those out this week and I’m checking around to see people’s reaction and I realize now that it’s incredibly foolish of me to stand around and observe customers because it’s not only creepy, it’s also terribly disrespectful. I’m so sorry.”

There’s guilt in his eyes and it’s something you can recognize. You decide he’s being sincere and engage him a little.

“So… you work at Rkive Publishing?” You ask as you glance at the books. “As what?”

“I’m an editor, actually,” he answers, revealing his shy smile and dimples. “I’ve spent months on these books and thought, what better way to know people’s impression than to see them for myself? It seemed better in my head. I guess I wasn’t being subtle.”

“No, not really. I was kinda having a moment but then you popped out of nowhere,” you say, laughing to ease the tension. “But uh, the covers are stunning. I liked the personal touch of the short story collection and this classic looks a lot more interesting than I remember.”

“That’s uh, that’s good,” he grins, mostly to himself. “Our production team did really well in putting them together and to see the final products is incredibly satisfying, even more so when customers feel the same.”

“I don’t really read books but these just caught my eye. It’s a good way to pull people in,” you admit.

“That’s nice to know,” he smiles again. “I feel pretty fulfilled just knowing they got your attention. Even if you won’t buy them.”

He doesn’t seem like he’s guilt-tripping you but he still apologizes for how it sounds.

“I just… feel really strongly about how these pieces connect with people, even if it’s fleeting,” the man continues. “I just got over excited but thank you for not shunning me away.”

“I don’t think connections are fleeting, though,” you remark, surprising him and even yourself. “Even if it’s a thought or a memory or an impression… they stay with you in one way or another. I mean, every time I enter a bookstore, I’ll probably think about those covers and remember these books and maybe the excitement I felt. That’s still something, isn’t it?”

There’s appreciation in the man’s eyes as he takes in your words.

You may not be a book nerd nor an artsy person but you’ve been more introspective lately about the things around you. You don’t know if it’s the desperation to relate with anything and everything but if there’s one thing that working on the Arts Center has pushed you to do, it’s that pursuit of connection - with your surroundings, with people, and with yourself. You suppose that’s where all this is coming from, and the stranger in front of you whom you’re somehow connecting with right now understands that.

“It is something,” he flashes a smile again, the joy in it radiating and softening his very manly features. “That’s very reassuring, thank you.”

He steps aside and nods, perhaps giving you the space that he thinks he invaded, which in hindsight, you’re glad he did.

You bow in acknowledgment and head towards another aisle to look for that leadership book that Jungkook asked you to get. You immediately find it then make your way home, all the while thinking about your earlier encounter and how the briefest conversations can make you reflect about things and as you learn, lead you down a path you didn’t expect.

To appease your curiosity, you research about Rkive Publishing and learn that it’s a ten-year old company that works with up-and-coming local authors. It has also taken on special projects such as publishing classics for their milestone releases and some translated works. The man you met, who happens to be the editorial director, is a poet as well but apparently finds as much happiness in putting pieces out for people to enjoy as he does in writing them himself. He doesn’t seem that much older than you but he’s seen the world and in the eyes of an artist, you can’t imagine how beautiful and heartbreaking that must be.

You go down a rabbit hole of reading some of his poems and even some interviews he’d done when he set up the company years ago. You learn that he loves to write about the complexity of relationships, the fragility of human emotions, and the search for permanence in an impermanent world.

His words are captivating. You want to pick apart his brain to know more about what he thinks about humans’ need for connection despite our fear of them. You want to know what makes love the way it is, why it creates and sustains and ruins those who feel and have them. You want to know if he thinks that each person is capable of love, if that’s what makes us human, or if our humanness derives from the inadequacy of love - of what we give and what we receive.

You read a bit more about the books they’ve published and the authors they’ve worked with over the years. It’s midnight by the time you finish, and other than deciding that you’ll go back tomorrow to buy that short story book collection, one other thing fills your mind - the thought that there’s a reason for that encounter earlier, and it’s probably to lead you to finding this company and the production officer position that happens to be currently vacant.

The soft eyes that greet you from across the table where the books are placed is a welcome sight this time. The man from yesterday flashes you a shy smile and you greet him with your own.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon but I’m glad that you’re here,” he says as he approaches you.

You raise the book you intend to buy. “Connections aren’t fleeting,” you remind him. “I couldn’t really stop thinking about this since yesterday. And uh, curiosity got to me and I looked up Rkive Publishing. You’re doing great work. I read that you’re working on translations of several books, too.”

His eyes light up as he talks about wanting to attract a wider audience, given the increasing interest in Korean culture. The story of your people appeals to many because it’s shared, and he says that’s one beauty of art in whatever form - the meanings are endless, and they weave together to form something enduring and constant. That’s what he and his mother hoped for the company when they founded it a decade ago, he narrates, and he has the tough task of creating that avenue for such art to affect more people without diluting its meaning.

“I’m sorry, I’m rambling again,” he shakes his head. “I just get so… yeah. I’ve just never met a buyer who actually searched us up after seeing our books on the shelf. I’m trying to engage more people. Our sales team said that’s one way to establish our presence.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you assure him. “I may not be as passionate about anything as you but I understand feeling strongly about something. And if I’m being honest… there’s another thing that caught my eye about your company.”

“What is it?”

“You have an opening for the production officer position. I… I was impressed and looked up career options.”

“Ah, so you’re interested then?” He asks excitedly.

“I am. Although I don’t have any experience in publishing or anything related to books or literature for that matter.”

“Relevant experience is the qualification,” he hums. “I’d ask more but I can do so during the interview. What do you say?”

“That’s if I’ll make the shortlist,” you laugh. “Although I suppose my executive assistant experience is relevant enough.”

“Oh, it definitely is. That is no easy task.”

“Well, I hope meeting you like this won’t make any future application inappropriate,” you say.

“Not at all. That position has been vacant for a while. And we’re looking for two. It’s not always the role that those in the industry go for. I suppose it’s made for those looking for a career change,” he playfully winks. “But seriously though, think of this encounter as part of the process. You’ve done your research about us anyway, which kind of means you’re already a step ahead. It’s only a matter of actually applying, which I hope you do.”

“It’s an option,” you hum. “This wasn’t something I initially considered but it’s amazing how certain moments shape our decisions, isn’t it? I mean, they’re not really fleeting.”

“Of course,” he nods, thinking back to your comment from yesterday. “It’s all about being open, so please think about it. I may not know anything about your credentials but talking with you has already given me insight into what you think about our work and the power of stories. And that’s very important to me.”

“I still have a lot going on but I’ll definitely keep you in mind. I hope the position is still open when the time comes.”

“If it’s meant to be then it will be,” he assures you. “I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

“I know,” you giggle, taking the business card that he hands out. “And I’m ___. I’ll see you around.”

His smile is the last thing you see before you head out the store with your purchased book in hand. And as you lay in bed that night, the possibilities of taking on a new journey play in your mind.

There’s the connection to the good memories of your childhood and the unloading of the burdens you carry. There’s being around people you’re not tied or indebted to and there’s forging your own way towards a path that you deliberately chose.

But there’s also Jungkook, whom you can’t stop thinking about and who happens to be a hindrance when it comes to pursuing your own goals in life. Those goals include happiness and freedom even if ironically, those are the things he also gives you. There’s the new emotions he makes you feel, the connection you can’t deny you have with him, and the desire that constantly eats you up inside.

You’ve always had your feet inside your walls with your hand on the door, just waiting for the courage to finally step out. The only thing stopping you is Jungkook and all the other possibilities with him. They may remain unrealized but they’re there. You just hope that one day you’ll convince yourself that walking away from him was exactly the thing you had to do.

You watch in awe as Yohan loads the last crate of food in the rented van you’ll be using for this weekend’s team building in some lakeside property in Gangwon. The trunk is filled with all sorts of meat and vegetables, chips, and alcohol that seem to be good for a tribe of more than 10, way more than your team of seven.

“You do know we’re only there for three days, right?” You remind the younger man. “I don’t think we eat this much.”

“Don’t you know Do-hyun?” Yohan says. “She’s half my size but she eats twice as much as I do. And I eat a lot. Plus, the guy she was seeing ghosted her so she’s probably gonna eat even more. Heartbreak shit, you know?”

“I don’t,” you chuckle, although you can’t help but feel bad again for Do-hyun whom you had to comfort not long ago because of her boy problems. “But are you sure these are all within budget?”

“Yes. Chin-sun is a master at bargaining. And, because we’re such a good team, Mr. Min and Mr. Jung gave us some of their favorite liquor,” Yohan hums satisfyingly. “Those smell expensive. So yeah, we didn’t have to spend much on alcohol since Mr. Jeon brought some, too, which is why we got to buy all this food.”

“Fine, but we can’t have drunken shenanigans, okay? I don’t have the energy to babysit you guys. And Mr. Jeon is no weakling; he’ll be awake to see you misbehave if you do.”

“We’ll go as far as incredibly out-of-tune karaoke singing, we promise,” Yohan laughs, learning his lesson after last year’s midnight swim in the freezing cold river where he almost got swept away.

Hoseok was thankfully passed out and did not witness the almost-emergency. You had to remind your team that though you’ll be going on a team-building - which is really just an excuse for the staff to eat and drink in some scenic venue - there are still rules in place, and it would be best not to give Jungkook any problem, given the progress that you’ve all made.

You enter the car then leave the office - your meet up place - to take the long drive to your destination. You just got the message from Mr. Ri that they’re almost there; they left much earlier so that Jungkook could make it to a virtual meeting with Hoseok and his father.

The ride starts off peaceful, as everyone is still slowly waking up. Halfway through, it becomes chaotic, with Do-hyun and Yohan arguing about who’ll be on cleaning duties on which days as the youngest ones on the team. You laugh along, knowing you’ll end up helping them anyway, but you look out the window and wonder how Jungkook is doing.

He’s been incredibly busy leading to today, with several site visits to the Arts Center and meetings with the project teams multiple times the past two weeks. He’s been staying late in the office, too, and working on the weekends. You know, because you get the odd-hour emails and find portfolios on your desk in the morning. Despite the work that he still has to squeeze in during this weekend, you hope he gets a bit of rest. More than that, you hope he finds time to be with the team and bond with them. Only you know this may be your last, and you want to keep the memories of these three days and make sure they’re good ones.

You arrive at the place and look around, amazed at every corner and every space you set your eyes on. You know that the Jeon family has dozens of properties in scenic locations that they escape to or put out for rent. This lakeside estate is one of a few you haven’t been to yet, and there’s a reason why Jungkook wanted this to be your venue this year. It’s spacious with lots of things to do and the view is absolutely stunning. Lush mountains frame the sparkling body of water, and with the breeze of spring, it’s every bit relaxing as you hoped.

It’s quiet as the rest of the team walks around in awe. The main house boasts of a large kitchen and living space and it’s surrounded by four two-bedroom villas with their own decks. You, Chin-sun, and Do-hyun head to one while Yohan and Manager Lee head to another. You give yourselves half an hour to fix up before reconvening and when you do, you immediately smile upon seeing Jungkook already waiting.

He greets the team, formally welcomes you all, then talks about the property and all its amenities. He discusses what’s in store for these next three days, then he proceeds with the first activity, which is really the only work-related thing you’re all required to do.

Jungkook facilitates the session, and he starts by asking everyone to reflect on all the gains and challenges this past year. He instructs each of you to share your team highs and lows, what enabled you to achieve the successes and overcome the difficulties, what caused you the most stress, and what you’re most thankful for. Every answer is met with confirming nods and statements, and it seems that everyone is on the same page about how the year went.

The session highlights your team dynamics - you’re all very encouraging of each other, but it doesn’t stop the young ones from bickering and teasing the rest of you. It’s fun though, as you end the hour with laughter and more memories to take with you. You glance at Jungkook who seems satisfied with every response; you hope he’s proud of how he managed everything, too, and you make sure you mention it during your turn. The smile he makes when everyone agrees warms your heart in a way you don’t expect, even more so when he holds your gaze when he thanks the team in return.

You’re rewarded with a hearty lunch an hour later, and not long after, you find yourselves near the deck of the lake, discussing how to spend your two hours of free time before the next activity.

Chin-sun and Manager Lee decide on just laying on the lounge chairs to soak up the sun. Yohan gets on a jet-ski while Do-hyun flounders about in the lake. Sipping your beer, you lean on one of the tables and savor the fresh air.

There’s not much of this in the city, and the silence - save for the young ones’ laughter in the background - is definitely worth the long ride and the backlog you’ll be having once the weekend is over. You’re not really one to stay outdoors. You’d much rather stay inside, under the covers where you could watch movies or variety shows. That was always how you preserved your peace. Being outside always intimidated you, and you think now it’s probably because you just haven’t seen that many beautiful views like this in your life. If this is what’s outside your window everyday, you’d probably be out all the time.

“___, are you just gonna stay there? The water’s amazing,” Do-hyun whines as she approaches you. “Or sunbathe if you don’t want to get wet. Just get out there.”

“I’m content just watching you enjoy yourselves,” you say. “I can see the view just fine from here.”

“It’s much better up close,” she counters, standing next to you now. “Come on, this is your time to let loose since you have the permission to do so. Mr. Jeon isn’t gonna be a killjoy and watch your every move, you know? If he will, then I will…”

“You will what?” You laugh.

“I will tell him he’s being a killjoy. How often can we be in a place as beautiful as this?”

“Do-hyun’s right,” Jungkook says as he appears to your left, catching both of you off guard and prompting Do-hyun to sweetly smile at him. He’s in shorts and a loose long-sleeve shirt, perhaps ready to enjoy the outdoors as well. “The place is too beautiful for you to just sit back and watch.”

“And what will you do?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Sit back and watch,” he shrugs, earning him a laugh from you and Do-hyun. “And enjoy my beer. That’s how I relax.”

“Please don’t be boring,” Do-hyun pouts at him, embracing that little sister energy that you’ve all come to love. “You should know, Mr. Jeon, Yohan is being all cocky, saying that he’s the best jet ski rider among all of us here. I have a feeling that he’s wrong, so please show him who’s boss. I mean, you are, obviously. But, you know what I mean.”

“I think I do,” Jungkook chuckles, putting down his drink and looking out into the lake. “But sure. I haven’t ridden one in a while but let’s see how I go.”

Jungkook walks towards the water then unknots the other jet ski. He removes his shirt and wears the life vest before riding towards where Yohan is. The view of him half-naked triggers memories of all the times you’ve seen him like that, times when you’d look away and keep yourself from thinking inappropriate thoughts. It’s no different this time, but somehow, it’s much harder to keep your heart from racing this fast.

“Holy fuck,” Do-hyun gasps next to you. “Please don’t report me but shit, ___. Whoever’s doing Mr. Jeon is one lucky woman. I mean, look at that. And who knew he had a full sleeve of tattoo? That is so freaking hot.”

From your periphery, you could see her shocked face but you merely hum in response. You don’t want to get carried away by your own expletives because there really aren’t enough curses in the dictionary when it comes to describing Jungkook’s body.

“You don’t seem surprised,” she looks at you curiously. “And you’re not affected. You’ve seen it before, haven’t you?”

“Of course I have. I’m with him everyday,” you say nonchalantly.

“In clothes, I would assume.”

“He works out every morning and he’s in sleeveless tops sometimes,” you clarify. “Obviously I’ve seen his arm.”

She furrows her brows as if she doesn’t believe you, even if you’re telling the truth. There are just other parts of that story that you don’t want to share.

“Hmm, fair enough,” she gives in. “But I’d probably be constantly flustered or even crushing on him if I were you. So how have you managed being around him and not being attracted all this time knowing he looks like that?”

You’re forced to look at Do-hyun, as you try to find the words to say, when she answers her own question.

“Right, he can be quite detached and too serious and he’s a playboy and—”

“You also forget that I am his assistant and he is my boss,” you remind her. “Thoughts like that—”

“Are perfectly normal,” she interjects. “And totally understandable. He’s a hot bachelor, ____. I wouldn’t be able to function professionally if I were in your shoes. Which is why it’s great that I’m here and you’re the one in that position.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I might lose this job if I lose my shit every time because my boss is so hot,” she reasons. “And it’s not just me. I’ve seen the female staff lose their cool around him just because he spoke to them or looked their way. It’s kind of embarrassing. But I guess the broody, asshole-y vibes add to that. And then there’s you who’s in his apartment every morning and heavens know what you’ve seen or heard since we all know that the rumors about his dating life are true and you seem fine and totally unbothered.”

You want to laugh at how completely off Do-hyun is with her observations. Sure, you tried to be cool about it at the beginning and you mostly succeeded in being calm whenever you came close or saw any part of his body exposed.

But somewhere along the way, things changed. When you saw the layers underneath, he wasn’t just attractive physically; he was suddenly so much more. That somehow made it harder but it also made all the restraint worth it. But that’s not something you want to divulge to Do-hyun. No matter how difficult, you know you need to keep yourself together and stop the feelings from going any deeper.

“Well, just like you, I can’t lose my job and I will if I let it affect me,” you say. “But if I may say so… there’s definitely more to the broody, serious man we met almost a year ago.”

“Hmm, I guess that’s true. He’s definitely more thoughtful than I expected. Maybe a little funny, too. But that’s really all I know. He just seems too reserved, you know? Seeing him do something like ride a jet ski or laugh with us feels like such a luxury for a man like him,” Do-hyun adds. “It must be hard to get to know him beyond all this. I know it sure is hard to love someone like that.”

You know that Do-hyun’s merely projecting. The recent guy she was seeing was a lot more shy and private than the ones she’s dated before. But she got him to open up and she thought that was it, that she’d broken through his walls and they’d be permanently down for her, only to realize it wasn’t the case. He was distant for a few days and she tried to get through again only for him to completely shut her out; she hasn’t heard from him in weeks.

It’s probably why you agree. People who keep their distance and disengage whenever they want are hard to love. You’d know because you’re like that. It hits you hard knowing that Jungkook is probably the same.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you and Do-hyun watch Jungkook and Yohan outride one another, splashing each other with water and screaming in excitement when they speed up. Seeing this other side of Jungkook does something to you again, and the sight of his smile as he dries his hair while teasing Yohan triggers the butterflies in your belly.

He approaches you - thankfully with his shirt on this time - and you suddenly feel too hot. He tells you that the water’s nice and you should get in, but you’re too self-conscious now, so you compromise and say you’ll just dip your feet in the water while you sit on the steps that lead down to the lake.

That’s how you spend the rest of the hour, as Chin-sun, Manager Lee, and Do-hyun join Yohan in swimming while Jungkook stays back, watching you all from afar. You glance at him a few times and he catches your eyes. He lifts his can in cheers and you do the same. He heads to where you are some time after with five cans of beer then walks back to his room, and you suddenly miss his presence. You wish he was next to you, perhaps laughing or talking about something random or just sitting with you in silence. You’ve learned that last bit brings you a lot of comfort and peace; the view somehow isn’t as beautiful when you aren’t sharing it with him.

It’s an hour later, after having dried and fixed up, when you’re all on the basketball court to start the next activity that Mr. Ri prepared. Divided into teams of two, each pair is assigned a path that leads to either the mountain, the woods, or the stream to find bags of coins needed to “purchase” materials to create a science experiment-type water rocket. It’s meant to practice your communication and problem-solving skills with those you work most closely with, which is why Chin-sun and Do-hyun, and Manager Lee and Yohan are paired up respectively while you, of course, end up with Jungkook.

“The caretakers and I spent all morning preparing this game, so please take it seriously,” Mr Ri says. “And bond with each other while you’re at it.”

You see the competitiveness in the young ones’ eyes, especially when it’s announced that there’s a prize for the winners, and you like the energy. Being Jungkook’s partner, you know it’s just about completing the task and somehow, it’s the bonding bit that makes you nervous. You already know you’re going to like it, which is precisely why it terrifies you.

“There are ATVs for each team which you will ride to the start of the path. You’ll have to go by foot when you get there or else you’ll miss the bags of coins,” Mr. Ri instructs. “You have walkie-talkies to reach me in case you get lost but please don’t. And try to be back here in an hour. All clear?”

You all express your acknowledgement and he signals the start. The other teams rush to their rides and quickly drive off while you and Jungkook stroll to yours.

He takes the helmet and puts it on you, and he laughs again like he did at the Arts Center months ago before riding the vehicle.

“I should’ve expected that,” you pout.

“Which?”

“That you’ll laugh at me again.”

“It looks cute on you,” he says casually before riding the vehicle.

Your eyes widen at his words and you’re glad he has his back turned on you. That way he can’t see the way you’re trying to hold your smile and suppress the giddy feeling at his remark. It makes it that much harder for you to climb up behind him though, but you manage, and you ensure there’s some distance between you and him, knowing how you tend to be when you get close.

Jungkook, on the other hand, internally smacks himself after he says the words. He didn’t mean for the thoughts in his head to actually come out. He’s glad he didn’t see your probably awkward expression, and that right now, he needs to focus on the road. That way, he can preoccupy himself with your safety and not his embarrassment.

He means it though. There’s something about you in a helmet that gets him, or even in anything oversized, like his jacket that he made you wear once. There’s also something about you wading in the water and laughing so freely that make his insides melt. Anything you do actually triggers something in him - a protective side, a care-free side; a side that wants to take a pause and bask in the scenery that includes you.

Now he has to act like he’s not affected with you sitting behind him as he drives the ATV down the rugged path. He feels you far from him, sitting close to the edge and holding onto the handles behind you. But as the road gets rockier, he starts to get worried.

“You should hold onto me,” he says, turning his head to the side so you could hear him before slowing down. “It’s safer that way.”

It takes a few seconds but he feels you move closer to him, your arms slowly wrapping around his torso. It’s a bit loose but it’s enough for his breathing to quicken.

“Is… is this okay?” You softly ask.

“Yeah,” he manages to say. “It’s a bit rocky out here so be careful. You can, uh, you can hold on tighter if you feel unstable.”

You hum in response but you maintain your position. He supposes you don’t know how bumpy it could be. It makes him worry and he wishes you’d grab onto him more only because he’s afraid you’d fall, and that’s exactly what happens after the first big bump.

You yelp, tightening your grip around him immediately. He feels his heart stop, unprepared to have your arms around his waist and your chest flushed against his back even if that’s what he’d suggested you do. He’s felt you close in several instances already, but each time feels different. It affects him the same way though - all he wants is to have you even closer.

But that’s not something he can think of right now, especially when you’re both alone, in a place that’s conducive to letting his inhibitions go.

It’s calm and peaceful out here. There’s a lot of open space but he enjoys it more when he’s looking at it from the comforts of the balcony or the deck. He always prefers to stay indoors because the outdoors somehow make him feel more constricted; he supposes that being trapped in the woods as a child would do that to anyone. He’s always just been a spectator, watching everything from behind the safety of his walls, knowing that he could feel a bit unsteady out there.

But ever since you got here and he’d seen you enjoy the surroundings, all he’s felt was the stability of having you near him. That, ironically, scares him, too. The more he’s comfortable with you, the more worried he becomes. So he settles on what he knows how to do - keeping you at a fair distance but creating moments here and there, only so you don’t think he’s pushing you away or detaching himself.

You decide to just hold onto Jungkook for safety purposes. You didn’t realize that the path towards the stream is this rocky, but you suppose it should be since you’re in the undeveloped part of the property. It's probably why he asked you to hold onto him; he’s your safety precaution and you know enough that he wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.

He’s steady and skilled in navigating the ATV, avoiding the big bumps and alerting you when there’s going to be one. It’s actually quite attractive. He feels so nice like this, with his soft hoodie and natural scent, and you have to pull away every once in a while so as not to get too comfortable. You can’t let yourself imagine this to be a possibility beyond today, you remind yourself. He can’t be someone you constantly seek, that you could fall into, even if that’s pretty much where you’re at at this point.

You reach the end of the road and Jungkook lets you get down first, instructing you to hold his arm for support, before following right after. You walk towards the mark that signifies the start of the path where you’re supposed to find the bags of coins, and you look around to see that there are more shrubs than trees. It feels a little less constricting compared to if you were in the mountains or the woods, which is why you think Mr. Ri assigned this to both of you.

You and Jungkook start searching, and with the topography of the place, it’s easy to spot the bags that are hanging from the tree branches. You point one out and Jungkook steps on the hollowed out trunk to retrieve it. You stand by watching, reminding him to be careful. And though you tell yourself to focus on the bag, you can’t help but glance at the sight of him - in his light gray sweatpants and hooded sweatshirt, looking casual and comfortable and even more attractive.

It doesn’t help when he reaches out towards the branch while you stay on a spot below him, and the view of him from this angle leaves you quite breathless. Not only does his hoodie rise up to reveal his waist and that lower half of his torso that you’d held onto earlier, but you also get a peek of the band of his underwear, too. Your mind short-circuits for the briefest moment, even more when he stretches even more to pull the bag towards him, and you’re able to snap out of it in time, as you watch him slowly make his way down.

“Watch your step, watch your step!” You call out.

He easily descends, and with his smug face, he lifts the bag for you to see.

“Do you not have faith in my tree-climbing capabilities?” he asks you.

“It’s just not something I’ve seen you do before,” you shrug, acting nonchalantly as you return to walking down the path.

“So, were you worried?”

“Uhm, yes? I can’t have an injured Vice President on my watch,” you exclaim, earning you a laugh. “How am I gonna transport you out of this dirt road and back to the house? I can barely keep still as a passenger on the ATV.”

“Well, I could get hurt but I definitely won’t be immobile,” he points out. “I won’t be a hard person to help.”

“Right… I’m the one who gets injured and then can’t walk.”

He frowns at you at the reminder, and you counter that it’s okay for you to make fun of your injury but that he’s right, he probably won’t be as injured as you. You wave him off, hoping that you don’t have to deal with an incapacitated version of him during this game. You also won’t be able to handle worrying about him without giving too much away.

You return your focus on finding the other bags. There are those hidden behind rocks and in shallow holes; you know because of the shovel next to them. There’s another one tied around the trunk of the tree, and you have to hold your breath again when Jungkook climbs up to get it.

As expected, you have good teamwork. You section off areas to search at and quickly find what you’re looking for. You go for the ones you can get and then ask him to reach for the ones you can’t. There’s some bickering in between, with him pretending that he’s stuck or caught on something while you panic and then pout at him for scaring you. But there are some moments of silence, too, where you walk side by side and bask in the scent of your surroundings. Either way, it’s time that you enjoy just being around him, taking in the environment that you often stayed away from. With him, it’s a lot less scary and definitely more freeing.

When you’re down to your last one, you and Jungkook think that Mr. Ri would hide it somewhere near the end of the path, so you both decide to just take in your surroundings as you stroll towards the stream.

“So, nature smells like this, huh?” you hum. “It’s quite comforting.”

“It is,” he says. “I forget sometimes. It’s nice to remember.”

“Don’t you spend a lot of time outdoors?” You wonder. “You’ve mentioned driving out to some of your properties with views like this. I’d assume you stay out and enjoy the scenery.”

“I do enjoy the scenery… just from inside,” he chuckles, knowing the irony of his words. “It’s just more comfortable that way, I guess. So I appreciate being forced to go outside this weekend.”

“At least you’re not alone, right?”

“That’s true.”

“I’m the same,” you say. “I don’t go out much. I mean, I’m often on my own so I just stay indoors but I do enjoy the scenery when I’m with others. It feels too lonely when you’re by yourself. To be something so small in a world so big… It's kind of scary.”

“Well, I’m here with you. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

You don’t think Jungkook will ever know the weight of his words and just how wrong he is. To be in a place so beautiful with him next to you… it’s everything you’re scared of. You’ve come to appreciate a lot of things because of him. You’ve come to want more when you shouldn’t because of him. You always find yourself in a state of push-and-pull with your emotions when it comes to him, knowing that he’s someone you can’t have. He’ll always be out of reach no matter how close he is. He’ll always hinder you from the kind of life you want to have even if that includes him.

The logical part of you wants to keep your distance, to not create any more memories that will haunt you and that you’ll miss. But the stubborn part of you wants you to hold onto this to remind you that beautiful things are tangible and he’s the one thing you can see and hear; maybe he’s something you can touch, too.

The latter one wins, so you slow your pace, take in the sight before you, and decide that this is a memory you’ll want to keep. You take the disposable camera from your pouch, something you bought the other week specifically for this trip, knowing it might be your last. You take a photo of the sky, then of the path ahead of you, then of the stream, making sure there’s a bit of him in there - a mop of hair, a portion of his arm, his shadow.

It’s then that you see the last bright red bag on one of the big rocks near the water’s edge.

“Oh, there it is,” you say, immediately walking towards it.

You look around and strategize how you’ll get to the rock safely but Jungkook insists that he’ll be the one to get it.

“You’ve gotten all the tricky ones,” you argue, given that he’d climbed the tree and crawled under the shrub because your leggings were too thin and wouldn’t be able to protect you from the thorny branches. “I can get this.”

“It might be slippery.”

“I have good balance,” you lie.

“Uh, I clearly remember that you don’t.”

“Hey,” you pout at him, knowing he’s referring to that time you tripped on yourself during one of your Arts Center visits. “It was the heels. That’s clearly not a problem this time.”

You step on the wet stones and balance your way as they lead towards the big rock, with Jungkook repeatedly telling you to be careful. His voice just gets louder and louder, but you turn around and see that he’s actually just following you. It’s your mistake, as your loss of focus causes you to slip on one of the rocks and almost lose your balance. Fortunately, it doesn’t make you fall on your ass. Your foot merely slides to the side, barely missing the water, which is really fine, but Jungkook doesn’t think so.

“Don’t move until you’re stable,” he instructs, holding out his hand for you to take, prompting you to look at him questioningly. “That’s the foot you injured. You can’t risk spraining it again. Just take my hand or hold my wrist so you can safely get the bag.”

You do as he says, grabbing his forearm so you can stabilize yourself. You let him go once you do, then you turn and take a few small steps to get what you need. He stays close to you though, and once you retrieve the bag, you turn towards him with a proud smile and announce that half of your task has been completed.

“You’re incredibly stubborn, you know that?” He says instead, his firm voice a contrast to his playful frown.

“And you are quite the nagger,” you hit back. “I wouldn’t have slipped if I hadn’t turned and I wouldn’t have done that if you weren’t so noisy.”

“Sure, it’s my fault. Sorry for caring about your safety,” he shakes his head.

“Well, you were underestimating me,” you frown now. “I could’ve done all this without your help.”

“Really?” He challenges.

“Yes,” you stand your ground. “Although I would still need your help to get back to land.”

It’s what makes him laugh, and the way his eyes light up and crinkle makes your heart race. He has such a sweet sound, and you wish you could hear more of it.

“I figured. Let’s go, then.”

“Wait,” you stop him and check your watch. “We still have time. Can we stay for a bit? The water’s quite nice and the view of the mountains is prettier from here.”

Jungkook looks around. The mountain range from far away looks majestic from this angle, and with the sun about to set soon, the way the light shines on the water is just as beautiful.

“Okay then,” he says, wanting to savor this as well.

You just said you don’t go out much, and maybe like what he feels, being with him makes you want to take it all in; maybe it makes you feel less scared.

You both find dry rocks to sit at and it’s the perfect spot for you to take more photos, so you take out your camera and see which angles look best.

“Did you buy that for this trip?” he asks.

“Yeah. I knew the sights would be beautiful. I just wanted to keep something from here,” you explain.

“Give it to me then,” he says, reaching out his hand and gesturing towards your camera. “Let me take one of you so you’ll always remember.”

You hand it over to him then suddenly feel awkward at how you’re supposed to pose. You stay seated with your legs just slightly bent but are unsure of where you’re supposed to look. It feels a little too tense if you look at his direction, even if that’s what you should be doing.

“It’s free to smile, you know? That’s what people usually do for photos,” he says, causing you to giggle. He takes the photo right then, and you have an idea he caught your smile at the right time.

“Was that a trick?” You ask.

“Sort of. I knew you were gonna think of how bold it was of me to say that, considering that I barely even smile.”

“Wow, I can’t even tease you anymore because you already know what I’m gonna say.”

“I know sometimes you can’t help but just tease me like that. I know you too well,” he smugly says. “But I think I got a good photo. You’re welcome.”

You laugh at his playfulness, knowing it’s rare for him to show that side of him. So you ask for your camera back and decide you want him to be part of this particular memory. You hold it out and turn towards him.

“May I?” You ask.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” he hums. “I just don’t know how to smile.”

You giggle again and you’re quick enough to catch the brief moment when he lets out a short laugh.

You look at him softly, as if there’s more you want to say - that you’ll keep this close to you so you’ll remember what his smile looks like, that he’s something beautiful you can hear and see, that you feel so safe out here with him, and that you hope he’ll remember this, too.

But you look away before any of the words make it out.

You think to just quietly savor this, as you bask in the sounds of the cicadas and the flow of the water and the rustling of the leaves. You’re so small in this big world, but being with Jungkook makes things a little less scary. With him, you don’t feel so alone.

A bit more time passes before you both decide to head back. He reaches out his hand which you mindlessly take, your fingers instinctively wrapping around his palm. You’re too focused on your steps that you only realize you’re still holding him once you both safely make it to dry land. But it’s also at that moment when he lets go. Though a part of you wishes he’d drag the illusion a bit more, you’re also glad he didn’t; you would’ve probably held on longer if he didn’t pull away.

The silence continues as you both walk back to the start of the path, but he stays near you, occasionally asking if you’re tired or cold. You make it to the ATV and you hold onto his waist again with no instructions needed this time. He drives a bit faster than earlier but you feel safe and steady, and there’s something natural about the way you’re clinging to him for support. Part of the illusion as well, you think, but that ends, too.

You’re the last one back to the villas but you and Jungkook quickly make up some ground in assembling the water rocket. It was mostly him, though, as he says that he tinkers around and easily figures these things out. Do-hyun and Chin-sun feel the pressure as you catch up, and they shriek as they slowly feel the win slipping away from them. But then Jungkook holds onto the last piece and lets them win instead. The way they celebrate after their rocket successfully launches makes it feel worth it; you don’t feel bad about it at all. If anything, you expected he’d let either of the other two teams finish first.

After the winners are handed out hotel accommodation gift cards, Jungkook excuses himself to get a bit of work done while the rest of the team prepares for dinner. The team works on your assigned tasks of preparing the grill and slicing the vegetables, while you cook your famed fried rice after Do-hyun convinced you that it would heal her broken heart. Seated outside with the cool evening air, you all wait for Jungkook before starting.

“Mr. Jeon said he’ll just message me once he’s ready to eat,” Mr. Ri says as he takes his seat. “We can start without him.”

“But it’s not a team dinner without him,” Do-hyun whines. “He should take a break from working and spend time with us.”

“I’m sure he wants that, too,” you say. “Let’s just give him some time, maybe there’s something urgent he needs to do. Let’s just enjoy our meal and leave some food for him.”

Everyone dives in once the meat is cooked, and there’s a consensus that your fried rice is definitely worth all the hype. The laughter and teasing immediately start, and you wish Jungkook was here to enjoy it with you. You constantly glance at his villa, noting the dim lights, and you wonder what has him holed up inside this time, knowing he didn’t plan on working too much while he’s here.

It’s one hour later when you decide that he’s gone too long without having dinner, so you take portions of everything and set them on a tray.

“Wait, let me make him a drink. Hopefully that’ll convince him to come out,” Yohan says.

Managing to carry everything, you head towards Jungkook’s villa, and when he opens the door after your constant bell-ringing, he looks at you in surprise.

“The team’s been wondering when you were coming out,” you say. “You might be in there because of work, but I’m not fully convinced. Whatever it is, the food’s too delicious for you to not have a taste, so I brought you some.”

You raise the tray that you placed on the small table outside and flash him a smile. He nods in acknowledgement and takes it from you but you don’t leave just yet.

“I hope you’re not working anymore,” you say.

“I only did for a while,” he replies. “I… got a bit tired.”

“I’ve seen you workout in the morning and work all day after only having three hours of sleep, Jungkook. You wouldn’t get tired from just a jet ski ride and some scavenger hunt,” you raise an eyebrow.

He lets out a dry laugh before heading to the dining room. He leaves the door open so you follow him inside.

“I mean I’m socially tired. Isn’t that a thing?”

“Gee, I didn’t think that spending time with me outdoors drained your energy so much,” you frown.

Your playful pout tells him you’re teasing. He sure hopes it’s not what you really feel. It’s the opposite, in fact. He felt relieved of a lot of things during that hour that he walked around and breathed in the fresh air with you. And you both had moments - comforting glances, the shared silence… the fleeting touches that made him want more. You’re everything new and familiar and he wants to know how it’s like to have you close to him.

He knows it’s a desire he can’t act on, not just because he’s your superior but also because he can’t imagine you feeling a fraction of what he feels. It’s tempting to mistake your kindness for something more, and he’d fall into it if only hoping didn’t lead to disappointment. But like what Yoongi had said before, it’s how you naturally are, even as someone who prefers to be alone. Whatever type of friendship you offer is all that it is - friendship.

Jungkook clearly doesn’t deserve you. It’s not just because of the way he treated you at the beginning but because even until now, whenever he pulls away, you’re always the first one who reaches out. He’s scared that anything he does might push you away, and that’s the last thing he wants. He’ll keep you at a distance for as much as he can and for as long as you’re around. He can handle that, but losing you in any way has become his biggest fear.

That’s why he needed to be on his own after your time together in such a casual and comfortable environment. It’s easy to want that with you and to think that he can have it. Pulling away has always been his default when dealing with things he can’t control, and earlier, he just couldn’t control his mind and his heart.

But you’re here now, having knocked on his door like you always do, wondering if he’ll come out.

“I brought you dinner but I purposely gave you small servings so you’ll want more and leave your villa,” you explain.

“Half a cup of your fried rice?” He scowls. “That’s a crime.”

“I know. And you’ll run out if you don’t go outside,” you warn. “Are you planning on just staying here? Do-hyun’s right. It’s not a team dinner without you there.”

“I… I was planning to go out a bit later. It’s a different setting and I’m a little anxious,” he admits.

He looks away and you feel for him. You were the same in the beginning, too. It’s one thing to share meals with people in a work environment but it’s another when it’s more casual, where people are less filtered and guarded. But you had to try, and after spending time getting to know your colleagues, things got easier.

The team has adjusted to Jungkook but you suppose Jungkook hasn’t fully adjusted to them. Perhaps he was planning on sneaking in much later in the evening or using work as an excuse. But this is part of his function, and like you promised him early on, you want to help him with this aspect of his role.

“I’ll help you loosen up a bit,” you suggest. “I can have dinner with you here first and then we can go out once you’re ready.”

“Sounds good,” he agrees, even if he’d decided earlier that he’d keep his distance. “You can get your food outside. I’m not sharing mine.”

You laugh at how seriously he says the words.

“I know,” you say. “And by the way, Yohan made you that drink.”

“How’d he know I like highball?”

“A little birdie told him,” you shrug, feigning innocence.

You smile before walking out, with Jungkook reminding you to set aside some fried rice for him.

You take your plate and reason to the team that you and Jungkook will just discuss some work stuff and they buy it, saying they won't get drunk until you’re both back outside.

You return to the villa with your dish and a bottle of beer, immediately realizing that it’s new territory for you and Jungkook, too. Sure, you’ve spent some time together out of work, but not in a place and situation like this.

But you want to be there for him. You like that he looks to you for energy and support. On days when he’s distant, you want moments like right now to remind you of the times he needed you, that he wanted you around, even if it’s for a different reason.

It takes half an hour for Jungkook to ease his nerves. In that time, you talk about random things, like his favorite hawker centers in Singapore and the variety shows you watch on which days. You both tease each other, then compete on who gets less affected. You tell him it’s good preparation for when the team, in their drunken states, does the same. You assure him, though, that they won’t go below the belt but he also assures you that he’s a big boy and can handle it.

When he says he wants more fried rice, it becomes your cue to head outside. You’re thankful that other than Mr. Ri subtly smirking at you, no one else reacts uncomfortably. You and Jungkook just came from his villa alone, after all, but you suppose everyone’s too tired or too careful to say anything.

“I hope no one’s eaten my share of the fried rice,” Jungkook says as he sits across from you. “I was really looking forward to it.”

“Here, all yours, Mr. Jeon,” Yohan says as he hands him a bowl. “If it isn’t enough, just know that Do-hyun took one last scoop before we set this aside.”

“Traitor,” Do-hyun scowls at the younger man. “I couldn’t help it. It’s so good, right?” She turns to Jungkook now. “___ gatekeeps this! She says she’s too busy to make it and I only got her to do it now because I’m heartbroken.”

Jungkook smiles internally. You’ve made this for him a few times and it’s heartwarming to think that you had your reasons for doing so, knowing now that it’s not something you easily share.

“It’s way better than the one I make,” Jungkook says, glancing at you. “I can have this everyday.”

“You cook?!” Do-hyun basically yells.

“Uh, yeah. I lived on my own for years. How do you think I survived?” Jungkook asks.

“Paying people to do things for you,” Do-hyun shrugs.

It’s a line he’s heard you say before and neither of you are wrong. It’s normal to make that assumption and it’s also true. He had people to do pretty much everything for him when he was in Singapore. He has that option here in Seoul, too, but he’s found himself wanting less people in his space for long periods of time. You’re really the only one he doesn’t mind being around him.

The conversation shifts to what happened in the afternoon, and you all end up talking about each team’s scavenger hunt experience and the anticipation for the next day’s obstacle course and relay games. A few more shots and bottles of beer later, the vibe turns more serious, as Manager Lee’s question to Do-hyun about how she’s feeling turns into an emotional session where she asks what she’s supposed to do about the man she was seeing, wondering if it’s worth reaching out or just moving on from him.

Chin-sun shares a piece of her mind and so does Yohan. Manager Lee says that sometimes, people don’t know what they want and isolate themselves in response. The pieces of advice are a mix of being patient and forgetting about the man, and you choose to observe rather than give an opinion. It’s always easy to say something but things could be totally different once you’re the one experiencing it. You think Jungkook feels the same, as he stays quiet but listens earnestly.

“What do you think, Mr. Ri?” Do-hyun asks. “You’re the oldest one here and would probably have a lot to say.”

“I wish I did but I wouldn’t say I’ve made the best decisions when it comes to my love life,” Mr. Ri laughs. “I mean, I’ve only ever loved one woman but I let her go. And that was over 20 years ago; I haven’t loved anyone that way since. I don’t think I ever really stopped.”

You watch everyone’s faces turn from shocked to somber. Mr. Ri, having been CEO Jeon’s right-hand man for a long time, has a stable and commanding presence. Everyone knows him to be loyal and firm, yet there’s a warmth about him with how protective and dependable he is. They all know about his commitment to his job, but his faithfulness to one person is perhaps surprising; he was never one to show much emotion, after all. But then again, people make sacrifices in the name of love - sometimes they give everything up for it, sometimes it’s what they let go of.

“Twenty years is a long time,” Do-hyun sighs. “And you never stopped. Where does all that love go?”

“I have people I care about,” Mr. Ri answers. “It goes to them. Obviously it’s different but I learned that if I keep all that love to myself, it hurts even more. That’s how I learned to live with the decision I made. It’s how I learned to let her go.”

“That’s so sad,” Do-hyun sniffles. “Here I am, heartbroken about a guy I was dating for only a few months while you’ve been harboring these feelings for decades.”

“It’s not about the length of time you were together or apart,” Mr. Ri shakes his head. “When you give a part of yourself to someone, losing them always hurts. That part of you is gone because they took it with them and you can’t take it back. So your pain is valid. We all love and grieve and move forward differently,” he says. “It’s all terrifying but that’s the irony of life, I’ve learned. The thing we all want and can’t live without is the same thing that hurts us the most, whether we have it or not.”

There’s a beat of silence as everyone takes in the elder man’s words. They cut deep, as you know they come from a place of deep pain. You don’t want to ever go through something that hurts that much.

“I’m too emotional,” Do-hyun sighs, not wanting to spend the rest of the evening crying and having everyone feel bad for her, so she shifts her attention to something else. “I want something juicy.” She briefly looks at Jungkook, who looks blankly at her, so she turns to you instead. “I don’t know much about your love life, ___.”

“Yes, because I don’t have one,” you chuckle, masking the nervousness you feel because talking about its inexistence in front of the man plaguing your mind was not something you planned for this trip.

“But I know you did,” she insists. “I mean, why wouldn’t you?”

“I think what Do-hyun means is that you’re a highly capable, kind, and attractive woman,” Chin-sun chimes in. “Surely there have been prospects for a relationship, yes?”

“Like Mr. Min!” Yohan says now. “I always thought you two were cute together. Do-hyun and I would bet on it since she says you’re not the type to date co-workers.”

“And she’s right,” you say, glancing at Jungkook whose face you can’t read. “Yoongi and I are good friends. That’s all we ever were.”

“Well, I think he’s very nice and he’d treat you well,” Yohan sighs. “But I guess it might be weird to date someone you work with. I have friends I can match you with!”

“That’s not necessary,” you laugh. “I don’t think relationships are for everyone.”

“Why not?” Do-hyun asks.

You contemplate on whether or not you’re ready for this conversation, especially since it’s the type you usually just have with your best friends. You suppose it’s why your colleagues claim they don’t know much about you other than the way you work because you don’t really share much about your life, your dreams, or the things you wonder about. You’ve always preferred to keep things to yourself, always worried about how they will be received.

But everyone’s allowed themselves to be vulnerable tonight, and given the distance you’ve created between you and them all these years, you think the least you could do is be honest. It’s a team building thing anyway, and people bond over shared experiences during these times.

“I’ve… dated people but it was never serious,” you start. “I never really saw myself committing to them. Sure, I’d give my time and energy but nothing more. There’s so much courage in loving another person. I just don’t think I’ll ever be brave enough for that. I mean, it’s just hard to control. Once you start, you can’t stop; once you do it too much, you can’t pull back.”

“Sounds to me like you’re afraid that you won’t receive as much as you give,” Manager Lee states. “It’s how love is, though. It’s not always equal. But that’s the risk you take, that’s the trust you build. That even when what’s given isn’t the same, there’s still love there.”

“But isn’t that the scary part of it all?” You counter. “Like what Mr. Ri said, you give a part of yourself to someone when you love them but what if they don’t want that specific part of you? Or they did then one day they decide they don’t anymore? So they just retreat and leave you out in the open. They’re safe but you’re not, because you broke down your walls for them but they didn’t do the same.”

“That’s the thing about finding the right person, ___,” Manager Lee says, with all the wisdom of a man who’s loved and lost and loved again. “You either trust that they won’t do that, or you accept that they could and you’d still think that loving them is worth all the pain that losing them would cost. In the end, you get to decide. If you keep yourself from feeling it, how are you to know what’s worth it and what isn’t?”

You’ve heard versions of these words before, too. Soomin and Jimin, whose respective relationship ups and downs you’ve witnessed, have said themselves that committing yourself to someone takes a whole lot of faith in the person and in yourself. It’s because you’re giving them an opportunity to hurt you but you have to trust that they won’t. A lot of times, they do, so you then have to trust in your own ability to get over them.

The thoughts swim in your head and with your silence, Chin-sun gives you an encouraging smile. She’s a few years older than you and has experienced a lot when it comes to relationships, and you can sense that she understands your hesitation and your fear.

“It’s scary but when you find someone who makes you feel brave, that can make all the difference,” she says.

Admitting all this makes you feel exposed, especially when your eyes flit to Jungkook and you find him gazing at you, as if he’s trying to figure you out. You’re worried that any other move you make or things you say will lead him to uncovering your feelings that you acknowledge is beyond just physical attraction at this point.

You find yourself worrying about him constantly, wondering what he’s doing or if he’s getting proper rest. You’re always thinking about his smile and the sound of his laugh, and you imagine how much sweeter and softer they could get. You want him to be happy, to find his peace, to have something to look forward to. And you want to know what his touch feels and how it’s like to have him close.

You know all this is wrong because of who you are and who he is in this world, especially as you realize that you’ve never felt anything quite like this before. The fear makes itself even more known as it is embodied in the man across from you - so palpable and overwhelming that you can’t help but want more, and the more his eyes bore into you, the closer you are to giving in.

How are you to know what’s worth it and what isn’t if you don’t let yourself feel all of it? And if Jungkook makes you feel brave, then what if he’s the person you’re willing to break down your walls for?

You shake your head, knowing you can’t fall into the trap of your own mind. You need to be logical about this, but you also think that you’ve been that way all your life and it hasn’t brought you much happiness. At this point, you question what that looks like.

Maybe it looks like him. Maybe it’s also life without him.

How do people make decisions like this? You wonder. How do they know how much pain they can bear? And when does it become worth it?

“Wise words,” you manage to say after a tense silence. “You make it sound simple.”

“Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t,” Chin-sun says. “Human beings are complicated, ___, so are our emotions. Love makes people stupid. But it also makes us brave and happy and complete. And when it’s shared with the right person, god it feels so good.”

You’re able to get her to share about her own experience and remove the spotlight away from you. Manager Lee narrates his serendipitous love story as well, and the serious tone of the conversation turns into a giddy, enjoyable one. You find yourself constantly glancing at Jungkook, liking his soft smiles and giggles as the stories are told. He briefly meets your eyes during some moments though, and that’s when you look away.

The night ends when he announces that everyone should get some rest and prepare for tomorrow’s activities, so you all clean up and wish each other a good night. Your eyes linger on Jungkook as he walks back to his villa, and you turn away before he does the same, the yearning for him getting stronger as each day passes.

The sun shines beautifully over the lake as you lean on the railing overlooking the water. The clouds over the mountains look like the fog that cleared earlier, and the majestic way that the scenery is framed by the blue skies is absolutely stunning.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Jungkook hums from several meters next to you. “I never really bothered to appreciate this view before.”

“It is,” you say, turning to him as he continues to gaze at the scene before you while you gaze at him. If he notices from his periphery, he doesn’t say anything. “It’s breathtaking. I could take a picture but that wouldn’t give this justice.”

“I can try,” he says, reaching out to ask for your phone. “I’m good at this.”

You indulge him and watch as he finds the right angle to beautifully capture the surroundings. He asks if you want him to take another photo with you in it this time, and though you’re a little shy, you let him.

You warm at how natural your smile looks, realizing that you were focusing on his smile while he was taking the picture. The view looks surreal but you’re in there, and it’s a reminder of where you are and who you’re with. Jungkook remarks that it’s a nice shot before turning back to the water, and while you wish you were braver and had asked to take one with him so you could hold onto this memory, you know you’ll look at this photo of you and also remember what you’re feeling. There’s so much calm and clarity, and you know it’s not just because of the mountains.

The tension and fear that filled you up last night have slowly turned into a sense of relief. The distance that once bothered you about Jungkook now gives you comfort. No matter how far or unattainable he may be, you still feel his presence - his warmth is in the peacefulness of a park at night, or in the calmness of the lake, or in the safety of your neighborhood library. You never imagined that one Jeon Jungkook would ever make you feel this way, and if he’s someone who makes you be brave to feel something new, maybe you owe it to him and to yourself to be brave to pursue that, too.

Your thoughts are disrupted when Yohan yells that breakfast is ready. You all gather in the common dining room for some dumpling soup before a short planning session to give you time to digest. At 9:30, the first activity begins, with all six of you divided into two teams to finish an obstacle course.

It gets competitive when you’re teamed up with the younger ones, as Do-hyun and Yohan attempt to trash talk the others. They give it their all, especially when they see Jungkook dominating the kayaking part of the course, but the three of you manage in the end. A part of you feels that the other team just wanted to make the younger ones win only to use it against them later on, but the fun and excitement are what matter.

You enjoy some meat and stew for lunch and have another planning session before doing the afternoon games, which has Jungkook on the losing team again. He comes up with a last minute individual game that gives Manager Lee the chance to win this time, and the afternoon ends with all of you, excluding him, winning prizes you can enjoy after this.

The free time before dinner has you reading your book by the lake and then talking with Chin-sun in the hammock while the rest of the team enjoy the sunset and some beer. You’re thankful that this time, Mr. Ri was tasked to handle all the activities instead of you, and so you’re able to focus on spending time with your colleagues.

You grill meat again for dinner, roast marshmallows over the campfire, and passionately sing off-key in the karaoke. But unlike last night, people decide to go to bed early, definitely tired from today’s physical activities.

You’re exhausted as well but somehow, the pull of the cold evening air is too strong, so you decide to walk to the main house and grab a bottle of beer. When you walk out to the deck, you’re surprised to find Jungkook seated on a lounge chair outside of his villa, glass in hand as he looks up at the sky.

Jungkook savors the crisp breeze, knowing that once he gets back to Seoul, all he’ll have is the musty air and the buzzing sounds of the city. He wants to remember this weekend and the peace he felt. Maybe he should’ve taken a photo of the view this morning like he did for you; he at least has the one of you in it that he took ingrained in his mind. You looked so calm and happy; he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face then.

He’s trying to keep as much of today in his memory as he can, knowing how hectic it’s going to be when you all get back. Other than the amount of fun he didn’t expect to have with the team, he enjoyed seeing a different side of you.

You were competitive but encouraging, probably not the most athletic but definitely capable. He could pick out your squeals and laughter and he thought they were sweet and hypnotic, and he appreciated how thoughtful you were during dinner, making sure everyone had enough to eat, especially him. You would catch his attention to ask if his meat is okay or if he’s feeling comfortable; he hated that it all ended so soon. Though he shouldn’t, he wanted more time with you. It’s different being out here than it is in the office or even in his home. Here, he’s unguarded and a lot more free, and he’s able to make more sense of how you affect him; in a way, he’s able to truly feel all that you make him feel.

There’s so much of you in his mind but you’re not around, so he stands up to head to bed already, hoping he’d at least see you in his dreams. But when he turns towards the door, he sees a silhouette in the main house’s deck. And as if the universe is giving him some sign, he finds you there, standing by the post with a beer in hand. You lift the bottle in cheers and he lifts his drink in return, sipping every last drop he could.

He sees you grab another bottle from the outdoor fridge then place it on the coffee table, an invitation to join you that he’s glad you make. He would’ve been too hesitant to make the move, unsure of your willingness to be in his presence.

“Can’t sleep?” You ask as he nears the couch.

He sits next to you, the short distance a little too tempting to close.

“Sort of,” he hums. “And you?”

“Not really. I don’t get much of the outdoors back in my tiny apartment,” you chuckle.

“Fair enough. The weather’s been nice, fortunately. Not like the last time we were out of town, yeah?”

“Yeah, fortunately,” you shyly look at him, not saying more, perhaps unsure if it’s something he’s ready to talk about.

“It’s okay,” he assures you. “I’ve accepted you having witnessed my extreme moment of weakness. You were patient and understanding even when I was angry and I… I don’t know if I’ve thanked you enough for that.”

“You have, and I understand it all. But Jungkook, what happened at that guest house is not weakness,” you insist. “That’s… dealing with a painful memory.”

“That wasn’t dealing, ___. I was suffering. That's… that’s what happens when someone doesn’t know how to move on from something.”

“Does it happen a lot?” You wonder.

“Well, the nightmares tend to happen when the thunder is really loud,” he says. “Otherwise I just get really anxious, like when it rains, my brain just expects things to get bad.”

“What do you do when it does?”

“I don’t know how I manage, actually,” he answers. “I usually forget and just remember that I wake up dry in my bed. I mean, I’d be sweating but not soaked. I guess that night, I was just too nervous because the rain was so strong, we were on the road. And I was somewhere completely unfamiliar with you. I… I think that made it worse.”

Your silence prompts him to clarify. “I mean, I didn’t want you to see me that way, that’s why it was worse,” he states. “It’s not a side of me I’m proud of. Which is silly thinking about it now because you’ve seen a lot of sides of me that I’m not proud of. All of them, actually.”

“So you’re not proud of the side of you that protected me? That made sure I was safe? That rushed to find me when I was stuck in the rain?” You ask.

“It’s what any decent human being would do,” he dismisses. “Those just probably stand out because I wasn’t exactly one in the beginning.”

“Well, you had Mr. Ri drive me. You’d make me go home early sometimes, too.”

“___, again, that’s what a decent boss should be doing. It’s the bare minimum. You deserve more kindness than you’re receiving. I… I should have been that to you from the start.”

“We’ve moved past that, remember? It’s all okay. I managed, I stayed. And I’m glad I did. I got to learn so much from you,” you assure him. “And you deserve more kindness than you’re receiving, too.”

Jungkook hums. He wouldn’t have thought that he’d be able to freely talk to you about all this - about how he was before and how he’s been recently. And like always, you’re gentle with him. He could only hope you’re as gentle as you are with yourself, something he doesn’t know how to do.

“I… I hope you’ve found ways to cope with all that you went through,” he says, turning away from you in shame. “I… I’m still learning.”

“It’s a process, and it’s not an easy one. No one really tells you how to do it. You kind of just… find your way,” you share. “But just think that the thunder doesn’t last long. It’s going to pass. So maybe when it starts raining, you can do what I did. Just cover your ears to block out the sounds. All we can do sometimes is shield ourselves from it, you know? It would scare us a little less.”

“I don’t even remember how you did it,” he admits. “I felt so out of it that night.”

“But did it help?” You ask.

He nods in response. “I wasn’t alone. I think that was the first time in a long time.”

“When you are, just do what I do,” you say, turning towards him and closing the distance to cover his ears with your hands. “Edge of the palms or your fingers then press tightly. The hollowness will drown out the sounds until they stop.”

Jungkook’s eyes swim in yours. He can’t tell you that he doubts it’d work without you, since your comforting look and your calm voice are what made him pull through. But still, he knows that imagining you’re there would definitely help.

“Edge of the palms or your fingers then press tightly,” he repeats, almost like a whisper. “Got it.”

You smile and it’s like a spell for him, as he mindlessly puts his hands over yours and slowly brings them down. He’s so lost in you that he only realizes he’s still holding your hands when you look down, so he immediately pulls away.

“Who taught you how to do that?” He asks, masking his embarrassment.

“My mom,” you answer, shifting back on your seat and looking out at the horizon. “My dad copped out before he knew I existed and she was too heartbroken to ask for him back. It took a while but she eventually found another man. I was pretty young then. He was okay, but then he lost his job and things went downhill from there.”

Jungkook sees the way your face falls and he already knows his heart is going to break for you.

“He would drink a lot and they’d fight all the time. He’d yell and yell, and then yell some more,” you narrate. “Mom would make me hide in the closet or under the bed just so I’d hear less of it. Thunder used to scare me, too; it sounded like his banging on the wall when he’d scream at her but eventually, I realized the roar drowns him out so I welcomed it. But I would just cover my ears and think of happy thoughts like she said. Sometimes she’d come to me and do it like I did with you. I always liked that better.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, wanting to take your hand back and comfort you in any way. “You shouldn’t have experienced that.”

“Life isn’t fair sometimes,” you sigh, having accepted the hand you were dealt. “My mom and I got out and she found someone who loves and respects her. And we just found ways to deal with the pain, you know? We could only bury it for so long. And so covering my ears just became a habit as I grew up. It was a way to battle all that.”

“I’ve seen you do that a few times.”

“It’s like a general coping mechanism of some sort,” you explain. “Sometimes the loud sounds come from inside, too. Thoughts of not being good enough, of being selfish, of not deserving of happiness… I mean, they come from others but they stay in my head. I have to cover my ears to stop them from overwhelming me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, looking away in shame when you turn to him questioningly. “You did that several times during my first weeks. I know I… I said things that hurt you.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It was hard for everyone and like I said, I forgive you. But I've been told worse things,” you shake your head. “You’ve heard some of them.”

“You didn’t deserve those either.”

“I know. That’s why I walked away. It’s easy to do that when you don’t give much of yourself to them. And I do it all the time,” you say. “I never really stay.”

“Would you stay if you found the right person?”

You remember a conversation with him months ago, about people being temporary and how they’d only stay if they had a reason to. It’s safe to say that finding the right person would be your reason, but that also makes it harder.

“I probably would,” you respond. “And I think that scares me, too.”

“Why?” He asks.

“What if I would stay for them? But they won’t stay for me?”

Jungkook leaves your question unanswered, knowing there’s nothing he can say that would sufficiently validate your fear nor comfort you about it. His own past relationship doesn’t give him any right - Chaerin left him but he gave her all the reasons to; she walked away and he did the same. Sometimes he wonders if she’d lost him before he lost her. He also doesn’t know if he loved her so much that he let her go, or if he didn’t love her enough to make her stay. Maybe it was neither. Or maybe he was just too scared - that she’d reject him, or that he wouldn’t be able to love her better if he she came back, he doesn’t know. He was never brave enough to find out.

He lets the silence linger, prompting you to remark that the conversation is too sad for a night as pretty as tonight.

“We should probably head to bed, though,” he suggests. “We still have stuff in the morning then a long ride home. I don’t have to remind you how hectic this next week is gonna be.”

“You just did,” you frown, earning you a laugh. “But I agree. Thank you for keeping me company tonight.”

Your shy smile makes his breath hitch. He wants this to go on for longer but he knows he might just let his guard down even more, maybe share about his other pains and frustrations and worries about life. Maybe he’ll end up moving closer to you, close enough that he’d smell your classic rose scent that makes his mind feel hazy. Maybe he’ll want more, and he reminds himself of all the boundaries he shouldn’t cross, and that crossing them may push you away.

So he says goodnight and you both walk towards your respective villas, looking back one more time before heading inside.

You’re all he thinks about for the rest of the night. His gaze follows you all through the next morning, too. He misses your presence when he leaves for Seoul in his own car, and he’s back to being a giddy mess when you message him, saying you hope he got home safely.

It almost feels like the weekend was a dream and when Monday comes, he has to remind himself that he’s back to reality and that includes how he should be when it comes to you. Those days remain in his memory, but when you enter his apartment that morning with the softest smile, and when you meet his eyes as you fix his necktie, he knows it wasn’t a dream. And that somehow, just like him, you wish it didn’t have to end.

It’s been over a week since the team building and you haven’t really moved on from all that happened during those three days. There was the joy of being with your colleagues and the companionship you felt thankful to have. There was also the tranquility of the lake and the refreshing environment that rejuvenated you, making you wish you were back there, especially as you sort through the printed photos from your disposable camera and see the pretty views that you already miss.

There’s that photo you took of Jungkook by the stream that you’ve been staring at, another reason why you want to go back to that time. His eyes are warm and his smile is soft and subtle, unforced and just as captivating. It’s quite calming, and it’s the image that you hold onto later that Thursday evening when you’re piled under loads of paperwork. It’s past 6PM but you can’t afford to leave yet, and the only good thing about it is that he’s still around, and you get to sneak in some glances through the window.

You’ve become that person, smitten by her attractive boss and definitely stupid enough to be overwhelmed by her emotions. You haven’t stopped thinking about him. Everyday that you enter his space, the desire to know him more gets stronger; with every common place you step into, you keep wishing he’d ask you to stay close, that he’d invite you to somewhere reserved for those he lets in. Every time your fingers brush, you’re reminded of the way his hands felt on top of yours and how you wanted him to keep them there, and every look you share makes you hope that you’re not the only one in this mess of emotions. And that if you’ll give in, so would he.

You’re not quite sure what he feels, but if his shy smiles and the way he intensely looks at you before looking away mean anything, then you could at least say that there’s definitely something there. You just don’t know if he would acknowledge it or if like you, it’s gotten too strong that you’re unable to think clearly or act rationally.

Finally done with the last item on your task list for today, you start to pack up. It’s at the same time that Jungkook exits from his room to return a portfolio he took earlier and place it on your desk. You’re about to pick it up but he says you should just leave it there and fix it tomorrow.

But you disregard him. You retrieve the stool and attempt to return the portfolio on the top shelf. It’s a little heavy but you manage; you even start fixing the others that moved because Jungkook’s been getting them these past days. You’re about to step down when you hear his heavy sigh.

“I told you to do that tomorrow,” he groans, walking towards you.

With your back turned, you reply, “I like starting my days with a tidy desk, okay?”

“It’s just one portfolio,” he points out.

“It still takes up so much space. It makes my table look messy.”

“You still could’ve waited. Or you could’ve asked me to help,” he insists, continuing to reprimand you as you try to step down the stool.

He’s a little close, blocking your view of the floor, and that’s why you miss a step and trip again, your squeal echoing throughout the empty floor. You think your heart racing is about to join in on the sounds, too, as it quickens when you realize that Jungkook has caught you by your waist, his tight grip on you sending shivers down your spine.

He’s gotten even closer, as you look up and find his scrunched eyebrows and worried eyes staring back at you. The tension starts to rise but you manage to tell him that you’re fine after he asks if you’re hurt.

“I’m sure,” you tell him. “You caught my fall. Again.”

You giggle and that’s what makes him let out a laugh as well. Your left hand holds onto the shelf but his hands remain on you. He’s still a breath away but you suddenly don’t mind, as your right hand mindlessly makes its way to rest on his arm. At this moment, this feels right. You’re all alone in your little bubble with him where you’re all he sees and he’s all you can breathe in.

His bergamot scent wafts through your nose. You can count his eyelashes and see the scar on his cheek that you never noticed. He’s even more breathtaking up close, and as if all reason evaporates from your body, you don’t pull away. You want him just like this.

On second thought, you want him even closer.

“You’re a clumsy woman, aren’t you?” He says, his voice low and deep. “This isn’t the first time that I’m breaking your fall.”

“Well, if you would just be quiet while I’m attempting to go down, then that wouldn’t be a problem,” you breathily giggle, inching the tiniest bit forward.

“Well, if you just listened to me the first time, then you wouldn't have to climb up there,” he responds, earning him a playful roll of your eyes. “You’re a stubborn one, too.”

“So I’ve heard,” you match his teasing. “Can't help it sometimes.”

“So you acknowledge it?” He raises an eyebrow in intrigue.

“Yeah, I guess,” you say much more nervously now, meeting his eyes. It’s like you’re hypnotized again, caught in some spell where being in his presence makes you honest and uninhibited. “I mean, I feel things I shouldn’t feel and want people I shouldn’t want,” you add. “Doesn’t that make me stubborn?”

“What’s stopping you from feeling them? From having them?” He asks, his voice remaining low and his eyes, even more piercing and desperate now as they stare back at you.

His thumbs lightly caress your waist and his touch electrifies you through the thin material of your blouse. There’s so much to say and it’s way more complicated, just as your feelings for him are. You can’t help but eye his lips, soft and pink, and the desire to know what they taste like intensifies, prompting you to nibble your own.

“What’s stopping me?” You pant now, your gaze flitting from his eyes back to his lips, with him doing the same. “The ways of the world. And some… boundary that pulls me back, a line that I don’t know he’s ready to cross for me.”

The words actualize your fears the moment you say them. You know all the reasons why wanting him is wrong. But there’s a small part of you that wants to give in, and it’s terrified that he wouldn’t, that he’d dismiss what you feel and pull away. The way he’s been with you and the way he’s holding you right now spark that sliver of hope you have that he feels the same way, but it’s also the same moment that he lets you go, perhaps realizing that he’s not willing to take the risk the way you are.

He releases you from his hold and steps back, creating distance, and you suddenly feel bare - exposed and unguarded without his touch. He looks at you in panic, in apology, in fear, as if he’d had some sense knocked into him, as if he awakened from some spell that pushed him close to you, only to realize that that’s a place he can’t go.

“I—”

“I should go,” you interject, turning away so as not to see any more of the rejection in his eyes. “Have a good evening, Mr. Jeon.”

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callmerainman · 3 months

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Alastor with a pure hearted s/o

a/n I'm fully aware that Alastor is aroace. My scenarios are meant to be interpreted as a deep, unconditional love, not necessarily romantic. I'm not aroace but I'm all for educating myself, so please if something's off let me (gently) know. Hope you enjoy :)

TW! canon typical violence

being a twisted person is not a requirement to reincarnate in Hell. Sins depend on religion, culture, societal norms. You were more of a victim, in fact.

you never got used to being in Hell. Surviving not only the Extermination but also the inhabitants becomes harder and harder every year.

it's kill or be killed, but you just can't bring yourself to do any harm to anyone, even if it means risking your own life.

as soon as you hear about princess Charlie Morningstar's new hotel for souls who want a second chance, your bags are PACKED

it's not like you really need redemption, you are pure hearted already. it's more a matter of understanding the reasons why you ended in Hell and coming to terms with them. maybe then the gates of Heaven would open for you. it's also a safer place for you to be.

Charlie welcomes you excitedly; Angel Dust, Husk and Vaggie aren't that friendly at first since your personalities don't match, but they eventually grow fond of you

and then there's, well...the Radio Demon.

you never met an Overlord before, and Alastor was supposed to be gone for years. But his presence wasn't frightening. A big smile spread across his face, he welcomed you like a gentleman.

you heard stories about his lifestyle and even previous murderous acts as a human, but for some reason you just can't bring yourself to fear him.

at first you were kinda pathetic to him. so naive, out of touch with the evils of Hell. he didn't dislike you. just thought your life was so easy to throw away in a society like that and that you wouldn't last long.

it seems like you two don't have much to share. he just wanders in his den, while you spend time in your room. you greet each other and have small talks, but nothing more than that. that's until he hears jazz music play behind your door.

he mentions it during dinner, and you start talking about your interest in 30s jazz music, especially the one of the Roaring 20s. you come from a later era, but you're very much cultured about jazz and its forms and that's enough for Alastor to develop an interest in you.

he has so many jazz artists recommendations, and you share some of your favourite pieces with him through your gramophone.

without even noticing, Alastor starts spending hours in your room just listening to music. some time even practicing swing dancing. and talking about jazz culture all around the world, and entertainment in general. he has many fun facts about the history of radio too!

the others at the hotel notice your growing bond and low-key support it, in their own, weird way. Angel Dust is especially convinced that you two are hooking up, as Husk not-so-kindly explains that it's more likely for Alastor to ascend to Heaven than express interest in sex.

you would start to open yourself up a bit to the Radio Demon. he doesn't understand why, since it didn't ask or never showed much empathy. but he just can't bring himself to tell you to stop. he wants to listen.

you manage to make him talk about some glimpses of his own life and thoughts. you knew that he was the complete opposite of you. incline to Evil, an enjoyer of all things that made your stomach clench. but he's still the one person who spends hours with you just listening to both jazz and your fears.

one day, Alastor decided that in no way you are walking around the city without him. it's just too dangerous for you. he tries to teach you how to use weapons and demonic powers to defend yourself but he doesn't feel like you can make it into Hell by yourself.

you like strolling through the streets with him, arms intertwined, chatting and laughing even if demons around you are shitting their pants just by seeing the Overlord walking around.

but one day, Alastor can't find you.

you're not in your room, or in the Hotel hall. No one saw you that morning. He starts to feel something he never felt in his life: fear.

he darts out the Hotel, trying to find you. that's when he sees you just a few streets away.

a group of animal-like demons is encircling you. you are on your knees, arms over your head to protect yourself. A lion-demon is holding a knife over you and your arms are covered in cuts. you hold something close to your stomach.

that's when Alastor realized that he had feelings for you.

when he threw himself between you and the demons attacking you.

it's the first time you see Alastor without a smile. his teeth are gritted, face full of unprecedented violence and will to kill, breathing heavily in and out in a sort of animalistic way, but there's no trace of his characteristic smile you love.

his body starts to morph into his full demon form. his horns grow exponentially, his body too as it hovers menacingly on top of your aggressors as they start to feel a pure fear they never felt before.

in a matter of a second, they are gone. Alastor has always been a calculated, elegant killer, but this time he only felt a raw, ferocious instinct to kill.

as he's done, he turns around towards you. he doesn't want to, but he snaps.

"W̶̞̐H̷̻͒Y̷̰̅ ̶̠͛D̸͕́I̸͔̍D̴̿͜ ̷̯̇Y̶̭͌Ỏ̴̬U̵̖̍ ̷̛͎Ģ̷̕O̸̩͑ ̷̹̈́O̶̮͆U̸͍̇T̴̙͆ ̷̧̀W̴͓̅I̷̞͑T̸̗͒H̴̹͒O̴̺̓Ṷ̵̂T̵̺̚ ̵̢́M̴̜̅E̶̬̋?̸̻͋!̸̦͂"

you flinch, you never saw Alastor lose his composure. he was always so calm and collected. his voice was static, choppy.

the tears that were cornering your eyes start streaming down your face "I-I..."

"Ţ̶̈Ḧ̴͙́Ė̵̩Ỳ̷̳ ̷̳̒Ã̸̡L̷̛͚M̶͇̚O̸͈̔S̴̜̎T̸͚̊ ̷̤͝K̷͊͜I̵̺͝L̵͚̎L̴̤̆Ẽ̴͖D̶͍̈́ ̵̻͝Y̵̰̑O̸̜͘Ù̶͍!̵̻͝ ̸͓̾D̴̯͒O̶̅͜Ṉ̶̌'̷̹͒T̵͎͋ ̶̺́Y̴̹͂O̶͍̅U̴̘͌ ̵̘̾Û̷̪N̸̩̊D̵͎̋Ȅ̴͜R̵̮͂S̸̰̄T̸̝̅A̵͓͘N̷̩͂Ḏ̴̀?̵̗̍!̸̭̎"

suddenly, your bleeding arms fall from your head. you expose what you've been protecting all along.

a vinyl, a really old record from Alastor's favourite jazz artist. a rare find.

"I-I know but...tomorrow it's your death anniversary and I wanted to give this to you...as a surprise. I'm sorry"

Alastor's face immediately softens. Eyebrows raised, smile still not seen. He's just surprised and...moved.

He doesn't say anything, he just picks you up in his arms and takes you back to the Hotel where he bandages your arms.

Feeling guilty for putting yourself in danger, you ask Alastor to come to your room in order to apologize to him.

As he closes the door behind him, he says that there's no need to apologize.

"I'm...glad that you are still in your room. Listening to jazz, alive"

words didn't come easy, but he did feel the need to say it. you smile at him.

you propose to put his gift on the gramophone and so you do. music starts to flow between the small space you shared with the Radio Demon.

that's when you and Alastor start slow dancing. his arms around your waist, yours encircling his neck. his smile is back, but soft and...almost loving.

with his silent agreement, you reach for his cheek and graze it.

"Thank you for saving me, Alastor. Even if you are everything I distance myself from in this life...I'm glad you are the person that you are with me. In my next life, I'll make sure to be a sinner again if it means dancing with you like this"

Alastor now understands his feelings. It's something deeper than care. It's love. But not the same love you reserve to a friend and not even romantic. It's something deeper, more visceral.

He doesn't answer, just closes his eyes and leans in to press his forehead against yours.

you later fall asleep on your bed to the quiet sound of the gramophone playing, hands intertwined on Alastor's chest.

#alastor #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #hazbin hotel #vivziepop #alastor x reader #alastor x reader headcanons #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #writers on tumblr #headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

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Ok this is very random but how do you think Ghost would deal w an s/o who is still a virgin at a very big girl age 🥴 maybe they’d be seeing each other for a while, and when things heat up and she confesses, how would he deal? Would he be honored and accept being her first or would he reject her altogether bc she is inexperienced?

(Because I’m in my 20s and safe to say on top of everything else in my life except this, I haven’t come across anyone with whom I’d like to be intimate with yet and though I try not to let it get to me, some part of me sometimes feels like a freak or like something is wrong with me)

I hope I did not cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable by sharing this, if I did I apologize and please feel free to delete this ❤️🕊️

Ghost x FVirgin!Reader Word count: 2,9 k Tags/warnigs: Mild smut, light angst, fluff, comfort, praise & size kink Summary: Reader tells Ghost they’re a virgin while things are about to go down.

A/N: Oh anon!! No boundaries crossed here at all! Your request (or at least I took it as such and got inspired to write a brief oneshot about it) was very sweet. This of course is my HC but Simon would only and only take pride in being your first. He would get a huge ego boost from this and feel absolutely privileged to hear he's worthy of such trust. I think he would want to imprint himself in your head as the best man and the best sex partner you will ever have – he would do his all to eradicate even the very thought of wanting to try others after him. Again, an ego thing, but also a desperate wish to please his partner and make them feel safe. This man screams service top to me. I think Simon has a wild side – not mean, just wild, as in he might be into rough sex and certain types of kinky stuff every now and then but only if his partner is willing. He would be very gentle and considerate (passionate as hell though), knowing you're inexperienced, he would make you feel as safe as possible and wait until you were ready and willing to explore things further. Also, I can't help but be moved by what you told me in this message. I understand where you're coming from with these "is there something wrong with me" thoughts, because gosh, I feel you! And speaking from experience… it's 110 % worth it to wait for the right person to come along! Sex can be awesome, mind-blowing, one of the best things – with the right partner. Not worth it with just whomever, imho. Stay safe and trust yourself! And I hope you like this short drabble I made for Ghost x Virgin!Reader ❤️❤️❤️ much love 😘

Simon Riley was a one of a kind man.

He put every guy on every dating app to shame, and not just with his size. He was manly, in a word, even if you never knew you wanted such an overly masculine man. At least, not until you met him.

Simon was not only sturdy and mature – he was armed with calm rage and dark humor. Just one look in his eyes told you he was not the life of the party. Actually, he was Death himself: one of those four horsemen that heralded the Apocalypse.

Perhaps unintelligibly, the same man was also extremely considerate. A true gentleman if there ever was one. He always placed you and your needs first. But underneath the calm, cynical surface you sensed fierce intensity: fire and smoke, something that screamed Danger, high voltage.

And you could not keep away. Quite the opposite, really. The combination of a wildfire and a tornado roaring upon this solid bedrock of a man was simply alluring.

Things had gone a little too far without you meaning them to. You were not a woman of one night stands, actually, you had never had a stand. But Simon changed that, too. Because now you were thinking about sleeping with him.

After years and years of waiting for someone sensible to come along, you had begun to lose hope, especially when people seemed to fuck left and right while you wanted something real.

A bedrock.

With that wildfire. Perhaps a tornado thrown in as well.

After weeks and weeks of flirting, the man asked you out, and after weeks and weeks of going out, you came to the conclusion that if someone deserved to be your first, it was Simon Riley. If there was any guy you wished would take you against a wall until you begged for mercy, it was him. At least in your fantasies, which were starting to get out of hand.

In real life, things were not that breezy.

Because what would he say if – no, when – you told him you were a virgin at this age? What if he would be bothered, what if things would get awkward between you two?

What if he decided you were simply too much trouble than you were worth?

It seemed like a miracle that the guy was still around, having been left blue-balled date after date. Either he was hellbent on conquering you, or then… Well, you didn't even dare to think about or's and then's and what if's. Especially when your own feelings were getting equally out of hand as those fantasies.

He probably had plenty of experience, and the thought certainly didn't make you feel any better. How would you compare, being not only inexperienced but a whole goddamn virgin? And it would probably hurt on top of everything. This man must be pretty damn big downstairs if 6 '4 feet and large hands were any indication.

Still, all fears flew out the window in record time every time he pulled you into a kiss. Your body molded into his already: the broad shoulders closed in around you, and it only felt thrilling. His warmth, his arms and scent enveloped you like the sweetest prison, and you held onto him as tightly as you could. Not because he wasn't clutching you with the same–if not greater–fervor, but because you wanted to make sure he was real.

And you realized what the allure of Simon Riley was.

He felt safe.

In fact, he was safe. He represented safety in all its aspects.

Who would've thought that death and wildfire could feel so good, so reliable?

You wondered if he thought this was some game; that you kept him waiting. The unwritten rule seemed to be that it was ok not to jump into bed on the first date. If anything, it was only a decent move. But what did the rules say about the second, third or fourth date? Not to talk about tenth?

Things were starting to resemble some prudent high school romance. Well, perhaps not prudent, the way you two practically ground against each other while making out after every date. Without being vocal about it or pressuring you in any way, you could tell he wished for things to go further. Hell, every fiber in this man begged for more. He would soon burn your clothes off simply with that searing gaze alone.

Watching the door close on that heated stare after at least 15 minutes of wanton, wicked kissing followed by clumsy Good night's and shy, apologetic smiles just wouldn't do anymore. The poor man was left breathless and puzzled in the cold night with nothing but a hard-on and the crumbs you gave him to keep him warm.

Things were getting ridiculous, criminally so, and you felt pity for those pants trying to keep him in confinement. You felt pity for your own soaked underwear as you climbed to a lonely bed all hot, bothered, and wet.

Which was why this evening would end with you asking him to come inside.

. . .

Lately, his hands have started to roam; they even cup your ass as he moans in your mouth – and hearing that raspy, low sound leave him forces the final decision. It's the final prophecy that tells you he is the one. You should’ve known it was only a matter of time with him.

The man hides his surprise well as you invite him in.

"Thought you'd never ask," he gives you a soft chuckle before stepping over the threshold to not only your apartment but also your life and privacy.

You barely get out of your shoes before his shadow engulfs you and strong hands lift you in his lap like you weigh nothing at all. You instinctively reach for support by clasping your hands behind his neck.

"You really know how to torture a man, don't you?" The brown in his eyes is nearly swallowed by warm darkness as he carries you to the bedroom.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, and he gives a short laugh of gravel.

"Don't be. This has been fun."

He sets you down next to the bed, and your heart is thumping so bad you fear he can hear it banging against your chest.

"But it's about time I torture you, right?"

Oh God…

Things happen so fast that it’s hard to tell who undresses who, but somehow, you find yourself standing in your bedroom with nothing but knickers and a bra on while he's taking off his pants. The man has definitely waited for this to happen for god knows how long, and it only makes your stomach lurch.

He thinks you know what you're doing, your brain offers when it should know when it’s time to shut the hell up. You can see the generous bulge this man is packing, and while perhaps compelling to other women, to you, it mainly looks intimidating. Threatening, almost.

He doesn't take his boxers off, seeing you're just standing there like some statue, still in your underwear and almost shaking from thoughts running rampant.

His form swallows you as he steps closer; wide hands slide up your arms, then draw you against him – against that demanding pulse that gets trapped between you two. Even through the black cloth, you can tell he's thick and big, just like you feared.

The man is blazing, and seems to have grown another foot in height as he towers over you with all that muscle. His shoulders are almost the size of your head, and you already know the hand that runs down your spine is experienced in crushing windpipes. It makes you breathe in shivers, and of course he notices something is wrong.

"Everything good?" He's eager and breathless, the erection pressing against you like a threat. He’s a man who has fashioned a weapon out of himself, so it shouldn't be a surprise that everything in him speaks violence.

"Yes," you try to assure him – a lousy lie only punctuated by the audible gulp that leaves your throat as you try to swallow your nerves back down.

"You afraid…?"

"Just a little nervous," you tell him, a half confession.

"Mm. That makes two of us."

He draws down into a kiss, the hands of a soldier and a killer nearly drawing you up from the ground as he pulls you close. You don't really buy his claim of being nervous too: you can feel how he throbs between you, heavy and impatient.

Hesitantly, you reach to hug him as well, and you feel so small, so insignificant when wrapped around this… giant. The knowledge that you're about to be trapped under all this crushing weight leaves you both faint and needy.

He’s a good kisser, but as he moves to devour your neck, you start to freeze from the middle.

"Alright… Come here."

He half carries, half lays you down on the bed, then crawls between your legs and changes his tactic a little. Gentle kisses are ghosted down your throat, and soon, he's at your breasts, soft as a whisper. But as he draws the fabric of your bra aside, your nipple is caught inside a hot, wet mouth, and the wildfire surges forth. There’s no way out from under him anytime soon, and you realize the colossal body is already spreading your thighs wide.

The way he already looks so damn good there between your legs: big, the epitome of raw, masculine power… It's almost sinful that a man like him is here with a virgin. It's a whole new hell how he's kissing you gently as fuck while blazing like a bonfire about to engulf and devour you. You want to wrap your legs around his middle, attach yourself to him in any way you can, but your thighs are weak pudding.

You feel both lost and found with him. In him.

He sucks and kisses your breasts like they're the only thing he's here for – and it feels good, heavenly, to be honest. But then he starts to travel down.

Shit… You need to tell him – and soon, or else there will be no time to say anything before the last of the shielding fabric is gone.

"Simon…?"

"Mm-hm?"

He doesn't even stop with the kissing, merely hums on your skin as his mouth reaches your stomach.

"You're my first," you finally force the truth into the night; a soft and desperate fact. It's only the faintest breath, but he halts abruptly like he has been stabbed between the ribs.

Great…

Here comes the awkward.

He rises. Softly, slowly, like a shadow, just a second away from getting to what's between your legs.

"Is that so?"

His voice is hoarse and dark from arousal. The whole man is intoxicating, and your heart is hammering in your chest, both from hunger and dread.

"Yes…?"

A broad hand comes to rest on the dip of your waist; gently, like you're some frightened animal about to dart off from under his touch.

"Love… Are you sure you want to do this?"

Are you? You almost ask, then bite your lip.

He just called you love, something he has never done before. You can see your breasts rising with the breaths you try to calm down with sheer willpower.

He lets out a small sigh, then crawls beside you and takes you in his arms. The bed sags and wails under his weight before your body is pulled into a delicious bear hug.

"Sweetheart."

His voice is so smooth, so different from the intense, rough smoke that has followed you up until this point that you feel vehement tears burn your eyes. First love, and now, sweetheart…

"There's no need to rush things," he says while keeping you close. Ever the gentleman, but you fear that you've ruined everything.

"We haven't exactly been rushing," you mutter somewhere in the plates of his chest. You both feel and hear how another sigh travels up his throat and is breathed into the crown of your head.

"Now… listen to me, ok? I've wanted you ever since we met. Can't deny it. But the last thing I want is to force you to do something you don’t wanna do."

You squeeze your eyes shut from what he says. Ever since you met… You can remember the lingering gazes, the way his eyes lit up with something hopeful and pure, how it drove away the exhaustion that seemed to have made a home in this big, brooding man. You remember how he stole a few stares up and down your body, too; remember the hunger he never even tried to conceal – not until now.

He is the most enthralling being you have ever seen, a mystery and a force of nature, an indomitable man, and to say that you haven't thought about him that way ever since too would be a lie.

"But I want it," you look up at him slowly, feeling much safer now that he's holding you like this.

I want you.

You realize you're pouting when the warm look in his eyes gains a playful glint as he laughs softly.

"You want it?"

"Yes."

That little twinkle turns into a downright gleam as he looks at you like you're the most adorable thing he has ever seen.

“You want it with me?”

“Yes.”

"How much do you want it?" The charred voice is so soft now: it washes over you in generous waves. His hands keep you in safe custody – and you're the most willing prisoner there ever has been.

"Pretty badly?" You breathe into the air between you and see the corner of his mouth tug.

"Well, in that case…" His hand sweeps down your back and comes to reside on the swell of your hip. "I'm glad I'm here to help."

Pale eyelashes drop to your lips just before he kisses you again. You arch in his arms, like a flower leaning towards sunlight; your mouth, your whole being unfurls under his leadership. He rolls partly on top of you, then moves to kiss you all over as you lie on your back: he kisses your chin and neck, your collarbones and the hollow little crevice between them. The hand on your hip brushes down your thigh, then back up, up, until his fingers meet the folds already soaked through the fabric of your underwear.

His touch is soft, but gains more weight as he sweeps slowly up, then brushes a thumb over the exact location of your clit.

"Oh–"

He knows what he's found, even without the evidence of your voiceless shake of a breath. He brushes another stroke over it, and it doesn't matter that you still have your undies on – you can feel his weight, the gentle pressure he applies as he draws a circle to usher another soft moan out of you.

"You like that?"

"Mhm," is the only thing you are able to answer.

"That's it…" he cheers you on with calm assurance. "Gonna make you feel good. And that's a promise."

You catch a hint of ego in that promise, but there's something else, too. A fervent devotion, a bottomless need to please you no matter what. The right man, definitely: not someone who is only after their own satisfaction. You don't exactly need the answer anymore, but you ask the final, burning question nonetheless.

"Simon?"

"Speak your mind, love."

"Are you disappointed…?"

He stops again, a breath away from you.

"Disappointed?" He sounds quite shocked, almost appalled. "...Disa–"

He huffs, then reaches to cup your face. You raise your eyes to his and see that he's…ardent, and very, very serious.

"Love, I'm honored."

You can only blink at the solemn vow, and he slowly shakes his head.

"Silly little thing…"

It's something he muses almost to himself before he drags his fingers over your sternum and down your stomach, reverently, like you're a piece of precious porcelain. But the heat in his eyes is back, and your fingers curl to grasp a fistful of sheet as his hand disappears underneath the cloth, when he finally touches you with nothing in between.

You suppose it's his middle finger that sweeps over your clit this time, then slips between your folds without effort. It coaxes your thighs open to give him better access, and access he has: he curls the finger until it almost dips inside. Your lips part with a quiet sigh as your chin climbs toward the ceiling.

"Look at that… All wet and sweet for me already."

The way you expose your neck is like an invitation: he buries his face in your neck, tries to drown in the scent and feel of you while gliding across the wetness down below. He spreads moisture on the tight bud, and you jerk a little from how sensitive it is – he huffs a smile in your ear. It makes you release the sheet and reach out to grasp him by the neck, to make him stay precisely where he is, close like this, so close…

"Do ya even know how bloody sweet you are?"

The last of your wits make a vanishing act as he breathes more praise on your skin. You're languid in his arms, feeling both weightless and heavy, like you're sinking into the mattress, and then his hand moves lower; one thick finger is plunged slowly inside.

Oh God oh God–

You feel him, all of him, filling and spreading you. And it's not enough… not nearly enough.

"We'll take it nice and slow, alright?" He whispers in your ear, and you tighten around him like on command. "Got all night to make a mess of you. That sound good?"

You can't help it: your lips draw into a smile when thinking about all the things he will do to you, all the sweet things you've always waited to happen.

"Yes."

#ghost x you #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley imagine #ghost imagine #ghost fluff #is this too soft?#is there such a thing as too soft #omg I think I'm part of the Ghost babygirl crew now #i accept my fate #also no beta we die like men

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phyrestartr · 28 days

Text

Icarus, I Am Devoted | Sukuna x M!Reader

Main Fic W/C: 5.9k Bonus Drabbles W/C: 1.6k

[#Modern AU, ABO dynamics, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, sukuna has FEELINGS, but he is BAD AT FEELINGS, nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, I KINDA EDITED BUT I JUST WANT THIS TO BE YEETED INTO THE OPEN OK BYE SORRY IF PARTS ARE CLUNKY]

@better-imagination-9 I summon thee

Sukuna didn't like Yuuji getting caught up in his business.

He was too brash, thought himself too badass for the world to take down, thought gang life wasn't as bad as it was made out to be, just because his older brother was involved. Sukuna didn't know where the fuck he got that idea–the tattooed menace had killed people, stolen money, sold shit that ruined lives. It was fun for him, sure, but not so much for bystanders.

“You're an idiot,” Sukuna growled as he dragged his brother into his office and threw him at the chaise lounge while they waited for their doctor on demand.

“H-hey, come on, man! It's, uh, it's not even that bad–” Yuuji grimaced, though, holding at the wound gushing blood from his arm. “You've had worse!”

Sukuna laughed bitterly as his henchmen flooded the room and made necessary preparations for their aid's arrival. “You and I are fucking built different, Yuuji--you’re too damn soft for–”

“I'm not,” Yuuji snapped, honeyed eyes blazing. “I'm not.”

Sukuna laughed again, then ripped his plush, leather chair across the room, sending it hurtling into the expensive ebony walls he encased his place of business in. He roared in overwhelming fury as it clattered to the floor.

“How hard is it for you to listen? How come you can never just fucking–”

“Yelling won't solve things,” your cool voice interrupted as you hurried into the room, medical bag in hand. “I thought you learned that by now.”

Sukuna whirled on his heel. His hands were still fisted in his hair and his blood boiled, but now, there existed an explosive tension with you in the room.

You, his pretty little omega. The one he chased away. The one he still craved. The one that drove him insane.

“Uraume,” Sukuna growled, crimson eyes locking onto his most devoted.

“My apologies,” they said with a pensive look and deep bow, “he was the only one willing to come.”

“So mind your manners, or I'll let your brother bleed out,” you said airily, so haughty and bitchy and annoying. But Sukuna knew you wouldn't let Yuuji die. You wouldn't let him suffer with a wound like that–you were too fond of the little brat.

Sukuna snarled in frustration and fixed his jacket with sharp tugs. “Just fix him.”

He stalked away, ignoring the way Yuuji yelled at him before preening at you as you tended to him. Sukuna knew his brother had a bit of a thing for you, his bitch, which caused more than a handful of problems with the two arguing and fighting for your affections. Naturally, you chose Sukuna. Of course you would.

The alpha's frustrations boiled, reducing the rage in his gut into simmering desire. He leaned his head back against the elevator mirror with a sigh as it shot up toward the penthouse--the one you, too, used to occupy. The one where you'd spread your legs for him, drowning in expensive, black silk sheets while he bred you like the good little thing you were. The one where you'd cook for him if (when) you woke up before him the morning after. The one where you first whispered I love you against his skin when you thought he was asleep.

The elevator doors dinged open, and he stormed out, eager to rid himself of the tightness pulling at his slacks. A cigar and a drink sounded good, too.

–

Ding.

He knew it was you. It had to be you. You were a good person, willing to let Uraume rest while you gave your ex the update he needed about his brother. After all, you didn't fear him, nor did you yearn to please him. You were more than capable of delivering shit news and getting off scotch free.

“So?” Sukuna took a deep puff from his cigar and leaned further into the balcony railing as you approached.

You hummed as you sidled up next to him, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as the breeze tugged at it. “He'll be fine. Yuuji's tough. He's a bit shaken up now that the adrenaline’s worn off, though.”

“Maybe that'll teach that idiot not to get shot.”

“Probably not.”

“Probably not,” Sukuna sighed, tapping off a dash of ash from the butt of his cigar just before it was plucked from his hands. “Oi.”

“These things'll kill you,” you scolded airily. “So will that.” You tried reaching for the crystalline glass of amber, too, when Sukuna scoffed and took a sip to spite you.

“Don't,” he snarled. Any normal omega would have backed away. Any normal omega would have keened. Any normal omega would have tried to please him up with a sweet scent of submission. But you were a different breed entirely.

“Don't growl at me–” you gaped as Sukuna downed the expensive liquor before whipping the glass at the skyline. “Sukuna.”

He stalked back into his penthouse with heavy steps as he ran his hands through his hair. He had to busy his fingers, his palms, just so he wasn't tempted to touch you, to grab you like he was used to. It'd been years since you were properly together–properly engaged in fact–but he still couldn't shake those infuriating fucking habits. You were a cancer in his mind, plaguing his body and thoughts.

But he didn't want you to leave. Maybe he liked the chase. Maybe he just liked how his entire, explosive world narrowed down to just one infuriating thing that he wanted so badly. He didn't know. Maybe he didn't need to know.

Sukuna poured himself another drink and collapsed onto his soft leather couch with a deep sigh. His arms draped along the back, one hand still holding the glass by the rim. He let his head fall back, and stared at the ceiling.

Thankfully, you wandered in. And you wandered toward him, not to the door like you usually did when his temper flared and he acted out. Something small and pathetic in him uncoiled and settled down, purring in content when you took a seat beside him.

“What's going on?” you asked quietly. Your fingertips singed sparks of pleasure against his skin where you touched: his cheekbones, his hairline, his furrowed brow.

He lolled his head to the side to look at you, his stupid pretty boy. “Nothing.” Not even Sukuna believed that.

You brushed his hair back, and the stupid alpha in him rose to the surface and moaned. “Yuuji’s not behaving?” Your warm palm cupped his cheek, and he leaned into it.

“That little shit never behaves,” he mumbled through the vibrato of purrs rumbling from his chest. “Gonna make me die young.”

“Hm. Is that why you haven't slept?”

“I'm sleeping.”

“How much?”

“Enough.”

“Sukuna.”

“I said–”

“You and I have different definitions of ‘enough,’” you chided lightly, like you were scolding one of your cats. “You look tired.”

“Maybe it's because my mate scampered off in the middle of the night.”

“Don't blame this on me.”

“Why not?” Wine-red eyes glowered at you, deciding whether he should dominate or decimate you. “It's your fault.”

You recoiled the slightest bit, your top lip twitching in that oh-so familiar way it did whenever you were close to snarling and snapping at him. You had such a temper for such a calm thing. Sukuna would be lying if he said he didn't try to rile you up on purpose.

“Ho? What,” he started, grinning wickedly when you made a move to get up, but his arms snaked around you and held like wrought iron. “Feelin’ guilty?”

“No,” you hissed, half-pissed by his drink spilling on you, half-pissed by his accusation. “Let go. I'm leaving.”

“Leaving?” He crooned. “You always get so pissy when I don't wanna talk, ‘n now that I'm in the mood, you're tryna leave? Come on, sweetheart, that's not fair.”

“I don't feel like fucking fighting tonight,” you snapped, and Sukuna stayed quiet for a change. “Yuuji got shot. You look like shit. And we--I haven't–” you took a deep breath. “Can't we just be civil for a night? Can't we just talk about–”

“About what?”

“About whatever.”

“Fine.”

“Alright. Okay.”

Somewhere behind the haze of alcohol, Sukuna's consciousness celebrated–this could be his shot at starting to fix things. This was his moment to rebuild that lost relationship and maybe clean up a space in his life for you to sit safely in. Your expectant expression agreed with him. You looked quite cute, what with your big eyes and the way you leaned into him. But instead–

“Was it a boy or a girl?” Sukuna asked before taking a sip of whatever remained in his glass.

You blinked and shook your head, eyes narrowing the slightest as you looked over his face. “What?” You asked.

Sukuna snorted and turned to face you, one arm gesturing with his scotch glass while the other arm stayed slung across the back of the couch. “I said,” he started, gesturing to your stomach and chuckling through his low, bassy words, “boy or girl? If it was a girl, then maybe the world did you a favour. You know how it is for women in this day and age.”

You stared blankly like you were shellshocked, and Sukuna bubbled with near-manic, reedy laughter until you got up and walked to the door.

“Oi, where the hell are you going, huh?” He got up and followed you, hastening his steps when he saw you b-line for the door. “Omega.” He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, purring into your ear as he pressed his chest to your back. “Come on, we can make another one. You'd like that, huh?”

“Get off,” you barked, ripping his arms away from you. But he grabbed you again and spun you back to face him. You shoved him back, your mind whirling in a chaotic waltz drenched with grey thoughts and crimson rain that almost drowned out the words he barked at you until–

Whack.

He hit you. Backhanded, fingers adorned with thick, bulky rings and knuckles that'd seen too many fights. A natural disaster contained in the vessel of a mortal man–sometimes, he didn't know his own capabilities.

“Shit,” Sukuna mumbled, scrambling to set down his glass to, what, tend to you? Rewind time? Sure. “Babe–”

But you, too, were a natural disaster. The tsunami that came after an earthquake, raising tides high and staring down at split earth with a taunt: you think you're bad? Watch this.

Thwack.

You snatched up that bottle of fancy scotch and hit a home run, watching Sukuna collapse to the floor.

–

Sukuna woke up with a concussion, his wallet missing, and one of his favourite cars torched.

It got him riled up. He was too ready to hunt you down and make you rectify your mistakes–that is, until he remembered why you did what you did.

Boy or girl?

Maybe the world did you a favour.

Fuck. He flew way too close to the sun this time.

He watched you stack up expenses on his card instead of hunting you. Your little rage-filled crime spree was kind of funny anyway, and he couldn’t help but hope it made you feel at least a little better.

Though he knew it could never. Nothing could make it better.

–

“You should quit messing around with him,” Ieiri said as she tended to the half-dead gangster laying on her operating table. “He's bad news. A kid like you shouldn’t be getting involved.”

The one little, wiggly lucid part of Sukuna wanted to strangle Ieiri; you were young, sure, but not stupid. Sukuna wouldn't go so far as to say you were mature for your age, no, but you'd been beaten down by life and forced into the role of an adult for long enough that it'd changed your way of thinking, of perceiving the world. You could make your own choices–just as long as it involved him.

“You're not the first person to tell me that,” you said softly, words rising with a small, warm chuckle. “Good guys try way too hard to put on a show, to hide how garbage they can be.” You squeezed Sukuna's hand and ran your thumb over his split knuckles. “Guys like him show you who they really are right away. Then, you get to figure out what his good side is like.”

–

You were there again. In the elevator, looking a little pensive beyond your cool exterior.

Sukuna took a drag from his cigarette as he stepped in beside you. The button for his penthouse leered at him and whispered, “you have time.”

All he had to do was think of what to say. The right course of action was obvious, but–well, was it really his fault? He couldn't accept that 100%. You clocked him upside the head with a fucking glass bottle and stole his–

“Those things'll kill you.” Your fingers snatched the smoke from his lips before he realized it. He caught you butting it out on the fancy gold railings.

“I like things that can kill me,” he hummed, lighting another cigarette and chuckling when you snatched that one too. “What, scared of a little competition?”

“Yes.”

Oh. Sukuna liked that.

“I, uh,” you started, fumbling with your pockets before handing something over. “Found this.”

Sukuna glanced your way finally. He couldn't help but laugh as he plucked the wallet from your hands.

“Found it, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“Such a benevolent, pious thing. I would've kept it.”

“Yeah, well. You're a dick. ‘Course you would.”

“Where'd you find it?”

“My pocket.”

“No shit.”

“Yeah. Weird.”

The elevator doors dinged open, revealing the empty hall leading to the penthouse. He glanced down at the door before looking back down at you.

“Have a drink with me.”

Your expression soured.

Sukuna threw his arm against the doors to keep them open. “Coffee?”

Your brows lifted, the creases smoothing from your face. “Coffee.”

Sukuna's alpha bloomed with pleased content. He sidled up next to you and rested his broad hand on the small of your back, leading you down the hall.

“With a bit of Baileys.”

“No Baileys.”

–

He let you try to sooth his stress while you waited for your favourite, poor-person coffee to brew.

You straddled his thick thighs as you kissed at his neck. Your hands roamed and threaded through his gelled hair, your blunt nails dragged along his scalp, coaxing rumbling purrs out of your alpha.

“Shit,” he moaned, leaning back into your hands, digging his head into your digits and grumbling like an old dog. You hummed in sympathy, and gave him harsher scritches, making his knee bounce in double time like a dog getting the spot scratched.

You weren’t done, though. You licked at his neck’s scent gland and coaxed more of his natural musk to the surface to mix with yours–a classic way to get one’s partner to calm down. You were methodical as fuck about it, too, knowing how Sukuna’s stress abruptly blocked any good scents in favour of excreting foul, angry odors into the air when he was pissed. Or, sometimes, he’d shut down completely, the only scent coming from what clung to his skin and clothes.

And so, he needed a little more TLC to get things flowing again, to make his body disarm and let the good vibes flow.

You nipped the swollen spot lightly, eliciting a strangled growl from the man. “Too rough?” Your tongue pressed at the spot again, and pulled more of that deep purring out of him. “Maybe not.”

“By all means, rough me up.” That was as close to a warning as you would get from a greedy bastard like Sukuna. He wanted you to bite harder, to break skin and set the wild tornado of a mating rut into motion. You were careful to avoid him when your unholy heats crashed down on you, but being in the presence of your estranged man when he was set off–well, it’d jumpstart your sex-crazed frenzy, too.

“Raincheck,” you murmured.

He huffed and rubbed circles in your hips before grabbing your ass and squeezing. “When's the last time–”

The coffee maker sang a tune and you got off, saved from your warm, fuzzy marking daze. “Does it matter?”

Sukuna got up and stalked after you, rubbing the ache out of his shoulder. “Like it or not, we're stuck with our binding vow.” His chest pressed to your back, his arms slipping around your waist as he leaned down to nuzzle into your skin. “Mated for life.” He couldn't help the smile that branded into your neck.

You cleared your throat and snatched up two mugs. “There're surgeries–”

“No.”

“How do you take your coffee again?” Hah. You didn't even try to argue it.

Sukuna's ego boomed. His scent grew more dominating and demanding in tow. “You know how I like it. You know the way I like everything.”

You scoffed and slapped his hand away, the sweet, teasing omega that happily marked him up and scented him to high heaven gone, now replaced with your annoying, bratty self. Ugh. He loved it as much as he hated it.

“You used to be cuter,” Sukuna commented, quiet and breathy, so out of character. His hands retreated back to hold your waist instead of keeping you trapped against him. “What happened to–”

“You know what happened.” You sounded tired, too. Angry. But not at the Sukuna standing with you right then and there.

Sukuna's old friend, unyielding frustration, bore down on him. He sucked his teeth and beat down the urge to snap, to yell and scream, claim it wasn't his fucking fault and that you never filled him in, so how could–

His forehead pressed against your shoulder. “I don't,” he sighed. “I don't fucking know, (Name). We lost our kid, I know that much, so what the fuck else is there?”

For a moment, he thought he'd lost you again. He expected you to whirl around, throw a cup at his head and curse him to hell to start off another fight; instead, you slipped out of his hands gently, and replaced your warmth with a cup of coffee.

“Come sit.”

Sukuna complied.

You tucked your legs up under you when you sat down. Your own mug was held snugly with both hands, yet your fingers fidgeted, twirling around whatever rings you had on while you thought of what to say.

“So,” you started. “How much do you know?”

Sukuna leaned back and thought. “Uraume called. Said something was wrong.” He could remember their voice ringing in his ear, that usual, frigid demeanor exploding into something panicked and tortured as they tried to comfort you, order idiots around, and explain the situation. “They didn’t know what, but said you were bein’ taken to Ieiri. I met ‘em there, Gojo wouldn’t let me come in.” He sighed, the memories pricking his nerves. “Told me you miscarried, and–well, that’s more or less it.”

You nodded a little, digesting the scraps of knowledge that’d been given to Sukuna. “I was alone,” you breathed. “I was–I’d been cramping. A lot. I thought–I didn't know–I just–I thought it was normal.” You cleared your throat, fidgeting more and only stilling when Sukuna's palm rested on your leg. You covered his hand with one of yours. “There was a lot of blood. I thought I was dying. Uraume and Yuuji took me to Ieiri.”

Sukuna remembered that, too. He remembered catching sight of you just before his brother carried you away from him. It was hard to forget the sound of your wailing amidst all that red–that damned noise came from hell itself, from the burning, fetid pits of agony and despair and up through your beautiful voice. For something so foul to touch you was nothing but blasphemous.

Sukuna tried to follow you in, but that moron Gojo wouldn’t let him in, spouting some bullshit about how he’d make things worse. Needless to say, Sukuna snapped, and Ieiri suddenly had more than a mourning omega to deal with.

“I pinned it on you to cope. I didn’t know what else to do.” You spared a shy glance at him before staring down again. “...Uraume filled me in, though. You were dealing with so much shit. All that crap with the Zenins. And you didn’t even–you didn’t even know I was knocked up until I wasn’t.” You sighed and sipped your drink before setting it aside. “Guess it was easier to blame you for everything than it was to just accept I got unlucky.”

“‘Unlucky’?” Sukuna repeated lowly, void of mirth for once.

You nodded. “Chromosome bullshit, garbage genetics, a shitty cervix. Coulda been anything.” Sukuna watched your expression shift from desolate to bitter. “And if you fuck up once and lose your pup, odds are it’ll happen again.”

“Says who?”

“Science. Doctors.”

“You really gonna take their word like that?” Your eyes met his, doey and expectant. “I'll gut ‘em myself if they say that shit next time you're knocked up.”

You looked a bit bashful then, looking away from him with pursed lips and glossy eyes. For a second, Sukuna thought you were about to snap and argue with him about how you vowed to never get pregnant again (which he'd indulge in), or maybe even bolt for the door (which he wouldn't allow), but instead, you grabbed the remote.

“Tch. Don't say such stupid shit. It's annoying.”

Sukuna could only grin to himself as you settled in beside him, tucking up against his side. Neither of you could swallow your pride enough to properly apologize for anything ever, but that wasn't necessarily needed–understanding was what was needed. Things had just become a little bit clearer.

–

For once, the alpha found himself at ease. Sure, you had your petty and some less-than-petty spats, but there was a coil of contentment that stayed at the forefront of Sukuna's mind through it all. Now, he no longer fumed nor bristled, no longer wondered if you really belonged to him, no longer thought about how to trap you if he wanted to keep you around.

Because you made more of an effort to see him, to call when you couldn't, to set his vicious wolf's heart at ease so he could rest soundly. He rested the most when you were so gracious as to curl up in those black, silken sheets with him, too.

Don't get too excited. It's just because we're mated; we'd go insane otherwise, Is how you rationalized it. And, honestly, it was cute to see you act so flippant and uncaring when Sukuna knew you were so the opposite.

Little liar. Loves playing pretend. He gently tucked stray hairs behind your ear as you snoozed soundly beside him. It was unlike you to sleep in so late (“late” meaning past 6am), and it was unlike Sukuna to wake up before you, so it must have been kismet.

Because this moment was the first in a long time where he got to touch you. Beyond the playful ass slaps and grabs at your hips, you never really let him feel you. Or did he just never try to touch you like this? Gently, just for the sake of feeling your skin and your warmth?

Sukuna was a brutal man. He didn't often have a chance to be careful. If he'd had that kid, then he might've learned how; he could've learned not to throw glasses at skylines, not to lash out at his omega, not to expect you to still love you when he broke you.

He brushed his thumb along your cheek and down to your jaw, admiring the soft skin and strong angle that led him to the curve of your chin, and your perfect lips. God, he wanted to kiss you. It'd been an eternity since he had a taste of you. Maybe if he was gentle–

I can do gentle. Sukuna shifted the slightest bit towards you until his nose lightly brushed against yours, until he felt your light breaths fan against his skin. Ah, why was his heart beating so fast now?

He did his best to ignore the way his pulse thundered in his ears when he brushed his lips against yours once more, before he kissed you softly. Gently. Perfectly. And he took his time parting. He had to savour the taste of your lips against his because who knew when he'd get to kiss you again?

I love you, he heard echo in his memories when your lips parted. But he never heard himself reply.

“Love you too, brat,” he murmured. “Don't you dare think otherwise.”

Your eyes opened a moment later. “You mean that?” came your reply, just as light and whispered. Sukuna felt waves of heat come off your skin–were you blushing?

Crimson eyes flickered from your bashful look to the slight parting of your lips and back again. “Always.” Even though he never said it. But he let you get away with everything to show that love–credit card theft, cracking him upside the head with a bottle, abandoning him for months on end.

A soft ‘hm’ hummed through you. Your sleepy gaze melted from Sukuna’s, and down to his lips, too, while your own pursed, pensive. Thoughtful. Christ, you were really something else–just a single look from you had his mind reeling, his chest easing into a warmth so reminiscent of a campfire, the sort you both used to sit around when you’d bullied Sukuna into buying one for his too-big balcony.

Back then, you were just “friends,” though the flirting and meaningful touches said otherwise. You were still a street doctor, introduced to him by Yuuji of all people, but you had more pep in your step, especially when you worked to try and swoon the hardened, deranged alpha you’d decided belonged to you. You’re mine, you said simply after shooting whatever whore the big, bad boss had hired for the night. The look in your eyes, cold and determined, got Sukuna achingly hard in an instant. He never wanted you to look at anyone else like that–your rage, your obsession, it could only ever be for him.

“‘M I still yours?” You still want me? You still love me? Am I still just for you?

You looked a little sentimental. A little sad, too, maybe. But maybe it was just the culmination of your fears and worries, your wants and desires finally breaking through your solemn being.

“I'm a minimalist at heart. I've only got room for so much.”

“Don't tell me you're back on that Kondo Marie kick–”

“But you're something I can't do without.” Yeah, I love you. I want you. I don't want much, but I want you. You're mine. “You bring me joy, or whatever the saying is. But I wanna beat the shit outta you sometimes for being a dumbass.”

Sukuna laughed and nudged your nose with his–a small, primal gesture of fondness. “Yeah, yeah, I'm aware. Tch. You're gonna have to be careful--you're gonna send my old ass to an early grave if you keep up with all this fiery youth shit.”

“Then I can inherit your fortune,” you offered airily before kissing him teasingly. Sukuna growled when your small fangs dug into his bottom lip playfully. “That'd be nice.”

“Hah. Everything's going to family–Yuuji, the old fart.” Sukuna pulled you in closer and purred as you complied. “You'd have to–”

“I'll marry you if that's what it takes,” you cooed, and Sukuna froze. You paused for a moment, too, before lifting yourself up to look down at his dumb face. “Oi.” You pat his cheek lightly but he scowled at you, half-cranky, half-defeated. “Eeeh? You mad?”

“Tch.”

“Awe, big alpha's mad.”

“Don't.” A command. A warning. One that had your subgender reeling and whimpering behind you, but your human side smiling, ready to mock.

You slid on top of him, straddling his waist and splaying your hands out on his broad, solid chest. Sukuna still kept his gaze elsewhere. Honestly, you couldn't blame him--you were in a mood.

“Oi,” you prodded, poking at his ridiculous pecs and tracing over the dark lines of his irezumi. “Hey. Don't pout.” But he grabbed your hands when your stupid fingers threatened to assault his nipples, and he continued to pout. “Come on, I said I'd marry you.”

“Tch.” You've said that before.

“I mean it.”

“Tch.” You’ve said that before, too.

You leaned down, and nuzzled the hollow of his cheek while he grumbled and grumped. “You don't like the idea of breeding me anymore? You don't want me to yourself, all caught up in your bedsheets with you between my legs? Hm? You don't wanna fuck me through my heat, knock me up a few more times, make me bare your children for the world to see how I belong to Ryoumen Sukuna? You don't want me to be drenched in your scent–”

You squeaked when your man flipped you around, pinning you before ripping off the sleep shorts keeping your skin from him. His rough fingers dove deep into your slicked up hole (apparently your long list of hypotheticals had worked you up into a soft, wet, pliant thing) and hurried to stretch you wide.

“Such an annoying little shit,” Sukuna grumbled. And you laughed, lightly and so achingly genuinely through your fluttery mewls and moans. “If you try ‘n back out this time, I'll break your fucking legs and tie you down to the bed, you got that? I'm not gonna be so fucking nice this time.”

“Eh? You were being nice last–” you whined when his wet fingers jammed into your mouth. But you obediently sucked and bit at them, holding onto his muscled arm for leverage while he kicked off his bottoms and pressed his sweltering tip to your soft entrance.

“You got no idea, princess.” Sukuna pushed in, groaning with ancient, cursed need as your insides welcomed him and obeyed, letting his uncomfortable size push you open. Seemed your body still remembered him. Wanted him as much as your stupid pretty mouth claimed.

You were gasping, your molars chewing into his fingers as your missing piece slid back into place, filling you up until it hurt to breathe. Strong thighs clamped down against Sukuna’s sides as he dragged you down, forcing the last bits of his cock into your very depths, squeezing a reedy whine out of you, before he pulled out and slammed right back in again and again and again.

Your cry nearly sent him over the edge. It was a loud, bassy thing, something like a cello toppling or having its string plucked too hard by a callous touch–a sound Sukuna reveled in. You were the only partner he'd had that was like this, so demanding and bitchy, absolutely horrible and as poisonous as alphas were, and he loved it. He lived and died by your gospel, by the very life that thrummed underneath his touch.

And you promised to be all his. Sukuna could have everything, anything and anyone, and that apparently included trapping and claiming a god. One that only he prayed to. One that'd only smile upon him. One that only delivered to him divine blessings.

What a divine gift.

He folded you in half with ease and blanketed your trembling body with his own. The fingers fucking into your mouth slipped out and down to your throat where they squeezed lightly; then, they traveled to the back of your neck, found your cute little nape, and squeezed.

Your eyes rolled back as your body arched up into him. Words left you in some ancient tongue neither you nor Sukuna could decipher. But it was a language of love and pleasure, the sort that brought delicious submission coiling through your blood in offering to the lowly creature devouring your holiness.

“Sukuna,” you choked out. Your fingers dug into his shoulder and fisted in his hair, pulling him closer to the old, scarred mark left there by him a decade ago. “‘Kuna, I need–”

The boss laughed low, but with fluttery, manic high tones warped throughout. “Need me to bite you? Mark you mine again?” He taunted. His nails dug into your soft side as he fucked into you harder, lifting your waist up to meet his brutal angle as his base started to swell. “I wanna hear you say it–say you need it, you want it. Say you need me to fill your guts every fucking night. Say I'm the only one who can get you there. I'm the only one–” his other hand grabbed your nape harder, forcing your submission further, forcing your neck to the side to present it to him.

Then, with a snarl, he added, “say ‘I do.’”

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you murmured those very words into his ear.

I do.

Sukuna's heart howled with the beast living inside him. Blood flooded his mouth when he tore into your shoulder, digging deeper than needed to brand you his again just before his pulsing knot squeezed into you and locked into place, stilling his wild rampage and holding you hostage beneath his hulking body.

You shifted and writhed against him, so obviously overwhelmed by such an archaic, crazed union–your omega must have been going wild, willing you to fight against the monster pouring his seed into you, locking you in place, taking away your autonomy. But a short, rough warning growl settled your inner self the slightest bit and straightened out your thoughts enough for your human pettiness to urge you, too, to sink teeth into flesh and mark up your alpha to complete the re-bonding.

Good boy. Sukuna's hips rutted against you in light pulses, attempting to jam his knot further into you to ensure you'd take everything he so graciously offered you. But every little move your bodies made together tore more hot strings of cum out of him and into your core. Apparently an eternity of not having you was culminating into this one moment.

You were the one to let go first. You collapsed onto your back with a loud sigh, and the crushing constriction of your thighs laxed just slightly.

“Fuck,” you gasped, wholly content and pleased. Your hand wiggled between your bodies and rested on the still-inflating curve that your partner had oh-so loving built out of cum and obsessive dedication. “That's gonna make a mess.”

Good. Sukuna's chainsaw purr reverberated against your bloodied skin. He chewed into you further and relished in the taste and smell of you, the way it mingled with his own scent of existence and made him feel so irrevocably whole.

Your fingers laced through his hair as you laughed. “Oi, let go already. Your knot's not gonna go down for like thirty minutes. I'm not going anywhere.”

Your mate obliged, dislodging his chunky fangs from you and lapping at the wound dutifully until the bleeding staunched. Next, he got to work leaving an array of dark hickies and light bites all over your neck and shoulder, just in case the gnarly bite mark wasn't enough to ward off idiots who thought they had a chance with you. He grumbled at the mere idea of it.

“So?” You cooed, running your hands up and down his muscled shoulders. “What do we do for half an hour?”

Sukuna scoffed. He tried to pull out just a bit, just to see if he was seriously locked in there, and you spat a vile hiss his way, your nails digging into him at the same time. And, fuck, you were tight–

“Fuck.” He didn't think this through.

-- DRABBLES --

“You're dumb as fuck, you know that?”

“Ah, such romantic words to hear from my wife.”

“Husband, jackass.”

Sukuna managed to open his eyes through the pounding of his head. God, he felt like shit. But that probably came with the territory of getting shot point-blank before bailing out of a moving car on the highway. Honestly, he was lucky only one car hit him when he hit the pavement.

Still, it was bad enough to warrant him a ticket to the hospital. Uraume worked behind the scenes, ensuring their boss got a private room and that the police would stay the fuck away if they knew what was good for them, and it all somehow worked out. Uraume was definitely a sorcerer of sorts.

“Can you save it for home? Fucking hell,” Sukuna groaned, letting his eyes fall shut again. “Too tired to argue.”

“That's a first,” You huffed, and marched up to his side, sitting down in the cozy seat waiting for you. Your careful touch prodded at his hand gently, as if assessing the damage, guestimating if you could hold his hand without hurting him, but he made the choice for you. He caught your hand weakly, and you held him safe with both of yours.

“Missed you,” he grumbled, squeezing back lamely. “Have fun on the trip at least?”

“Yeah, until I heard what happened.” You sighed, watery and warbled. “I shouldn't have left. You're too stupid to survive alone.”

Sukuna laughed, then coughed. He felt you tense. “F-Fuck you, little shit. I'm fine.”

“You got shot.”

“Been shot before.”

“Jumped out of a car.”

“I've jumped outta faster.”

“Then got hit by another car.”

“That was a first.”

You sighed to fight back either a sob or ill-placed laughter, or maybe both. “This is so fucking ridiculous. Never make me take a vacation again. I can't be off fucking around in Hawaii when my baby daddy's getting hit like it's GTA.”

“Christ, I already–” he paused, though, and cracked an eye open to look at you. “What did you…”

He lost his words when he saw you. Your skin glowed in a way he hadn't had the luxury to see before. Your face looked rounder, too, like you'd put on a little bit of weight since you'd been gone. But your scent–your usual sweet, full-bodied scent of flowery coffee was cranked up to a trillion. If Sukuna's nose wasn't busted, he would've noticed the way it filled up the room, and he might've noticed how his own scent rose to meet it in greeting. Something strange was happening.

“Oh. Right. Uh…” you cleared your throat and hastily tucked some hair behind your ear. You looked a little bit lost for words too, in all honesty. “I’m pregn–”

Sukuna sat up. You barked at him to lay down, your voice rising a few octaves when something that was probably important dislodged from his wrist as he reached forward when you stood. And you froze when his palm pressed against your stomach–a natural, maternal thing to do. Sukuna remembered when he caught your cat for you when she was trying to dart out the door whilst pregnant, and how she froze dead in her tracks when his hand caught her by her kitten-filled stomach, and let him carry her back inside.

But this was different. This wasn’t his partner’s cat’s kittens he was feeling, it was yours. His. A shared little nugget doing its best to grow big for its expectant mama–and now expectant papa.

“How long?” Sukuna rasped. When did his throat get so dry?

“Two months. Ish.” You rested your hands over his again despite the awkward angle he caught you at. “I didn’t know until last week. I tried to call, but–” You got obliterated and couldn’t answer your phone.

“I get it. Don’t gotta explain.” Sukuna gazed at your stomach a moment longer with droopy, half-lidded eyes before looking up at you as nurses burst into the room. “You’re moving in.”

And for once, you didn’t argue.

–

“Dude, you guys can't fuck when he's pregnant! You'll crush the baby like a tin can!”

You snorted and tried to cover your mouth as your tea shot out your nose. You coughed and wheezed, turning away and waving at the brothers in a desperate plea for them to not look and continue their petty argument.

Sukuna, caught between the urge to mock you and kick the shit out of his annoying little fucknut brother, sighed and rubbed his face before handing you his fancy handkerchief he kept tucked in the breast of his jacket for nothing but looks. These days, though, the damn thing had been paying its dues.

“You think I'm gonna listen to a fuckin’ virgin about this kinda shit?” Sukuna quipped back as he watched you clean up before trying to take a sip of your drink again.

“Hey, man, I'm just saying. Your dick is like a third leg.”

You slammed your hand down on the table after spitting a mouthful of tea back into your cup. “Yuuji. Please. Why do you even know that?”

Yuuji pouted and scooted closer to you under the kotatsu. “Wh--we're brothers! It's not even that weird!”

“It's weird as shit,” Sukuna offered as he reached out to rub your back.

“So not weird.” His honeyed eyes locked onto the small affection the older showed you. “Man, so not fair you guys are ganging up on me now that you're, like, a thing,” Yuuji whined and let his arms and chest flop across the table like a petulant child.

Sukuna smirked. “Jealous?”

You grumbled. “Sukuna. Don't start.”

Yuuji's ears turned bright red. “Jea–what?! No! I like girls like Jennifer Lawrence, not--I don't–”

“N'awe, little pup's tryna cope with losing.” Sukuna grinned wildly when Yuuji's head snapped up, pinning a deadly stare onto the older alpha. “Oh? Finally grow a pair?”

“Sukuna,” you warned again.

“You better shut it, dude,” Yuuji threatened next, and you knew it was a lost cause; two alpha brothers, both incredibly competitive, both pining for the same omega, spelled disaster.

Your partner laughed that familiar, ugly laugh–the sort that was too genuine and sounded borderline insane. “Or what? You gonna make me cry–”

Yuuji launched over the table in an instant, tackling his brother to the ground with a bratty snarl. You watched on, unimpressed, waiting for any signs of their wrestling turning into a serious fight, but it never came. So, you enjoyed it a bit. It wasn't everyday the two idiots played nice.

You rested your hands on your curved stomach while the two growled and snarled half-heartedly in their dumb attempt to subdue the other. Sukuna could've won in an instant, you both knew that, but he'd let Yuuji think he had a fighting chance for a little bit. It was part of the fun for him, letting his little brother gnaw on him like it'd do anything, letting him try to use his horrible jiu-jitsu skills on his older, bigger brother. It reminded you of–

“Oh,” you peeped when a rowdy kick jostled your hand. It didn't come from the boys, no, it came from the tiny tot inside you.

The boys froze and stared at you.

“Huh? What's ‘oh'?” Yuuji asked through his panting and straining. Sukuna had him in a headlock, one of his hands giving a brutal noogie to the younger's head.

“No, just–I think she kicked. Maybe not, I don't–” but your expression brightened with delight when another little throw hit your hand.

“No shit?” Sukuna grinned, waves of excited alpha scent rolling off of him. He face-shoved Yuuji away before sidling up next to you and pressing his palm against your stomach. You guided his touch to rest over the kicky hotspot, and sure enough–

Thump. Thump.

“Two kicks for your old man, hey?” Sukuna hummed, looking so damn triumphant.

“Hey, hey, I wanna feel!” Yuuji scrambled over like a nightmare and wiggled up on your other side, pointedly ignoring the snarl Sukuna sent his way. “Come on, it's my niece, chill out.”

Sukuna growled again, but you pulled his hand off to let Yuuji feel the little life making herself known. His eyes, too, lit up when those tiny thwacks battered his palm.

You looked up at Sukuna dreamily, making the other's ticked expression smooth down into just mildly-annoyed; if your omega wasn't threatened, then he wasn't going to threaten. Sukuna didn't think Yuuji would hurt you, absolutely not, but anyone who came near you, or so much as accidentally bumped into you, pissed Sukuna off, sending his over-protective instincts into overdrive. He always had to rely on you to know when not to react.

“That's so cool!” Yuuji squeaked. “She's seriously in there!”

“Where the fuck else would she be,” Sukuna grumped.

“Don't ruin his fun, Sukuna.”

“Yeah, don’t ruin my fun!”

“Yuuji’s banned from the house.”

“WH–HEY!!”

“Sukuna.”

“Heh.”

“What about gramps, then?”

Sukuna paused. His heart stopped for a long, long moment.

“What about him?” He answered, nonchalantly as possible. “Old fuck cut me off years ago.”

“He still cares,” Yuuji offered with a shrug. “And I told him about the pup ‘n everything.”

Sukuna frowned. “Yuuji–”

“You seriously think he doesn't give a shit? Dude, be real, the guy raised us.”

“That's generous.”

“Didn't you say you were leaving everything to Yuuji and ‘the old fart’ originally?” You cooed, unhelpful as ever.

Carmine eyes found yours. “...If he actually wants to meet her–”

“Awesome, I’ll let him know!”

“Oi, runt–”

But Yuuji jumped up and pulled his phone out, leaving Sukuna to wonder what he’d just gotten himself into while you laughed at his misery.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x male reader #sukuna x m!reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #male reader insert #male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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