â you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. â
⌠cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. minor injury. family trauma. smut. slow burn. anxiety. panic attacks. self-loathing. mentions of difficulty eating. legal drama (likely with inaccuracies). medical content. minor descriptions of wounds. mentions of arachnids. withdrawal. pet names. oral (f! receiving). p in v. nipple play. neck kissing. marking. body worship. size difference. praise. aftercare.
⌠additional tags ; college parties and themes. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6'11".
defiance masterlist | king!sukuna x servant!reader
summary: a psychic shares her vision with the king, saying that his soulmate would replace all 5 of his concubines one day. he had her banned from the premises for that absurd prediction. it wasn't until months later when he started believing the old bitch, after one cute yet disobedient servant started working at the shrine.
TL;DR: sukuna's a sorcerer in this one, still ooc but not too much. mc pretty much ran away from home for being a hoe, and went to work at sukuna's shrine lol.
genre: female reader, heian era au, 18+, grumpy x sunshine, fluff, smut, crack, angst, no he wont have two sets of arms, and no he wont have two dicks, i'm really sorry
fic warnings: profanity, explicit smut, graphic depictions of violence, death, pregnancy, war
wc: 106k (complete)
side stories: delicate
Ko-fi link for those who are feeling generous and wanted to show extra support â¤ď¸
One: Did I give you permission?
Two: Flower festival
Three: The King of Curses
Four: Temper
Five: Depraved
Six: My Little Dove
Seven: Counting the Rings Inside of the Willow Tree
Eight: White Silence
Nine: Say Yes to Heaven
Ten: Hidden Letters
Eleven: A True Blessing
Twelve: Energy Shift Part One
Thirteen: Energy Shift Part Two
Fourteen: Prelude
Fifteen: A Sharp Turn
Sixteen: Dreamâs Over
Seventeen: Beneath The Lotus; A Devils Cleanse
Eighteen: I Can Clean Impurity
Nineteen: Climbing up the Walls
Twenty: Sumire
Twenty One: Sayomi
Epilogue
extras:
king!sukuna headcanons
doveyâs style
what ryuko looks like
the concubines
playlist
All rights reserved Š 2024 yenayaps. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.
SUMMARY â he believes you don't matter to him. just one more annoying fangirl. showing up to his races, being obnoxiously chatty and your flirtingâgod, does it end? sukuna dreads you. however, he starts reciprocating, as a joke, of course! until it doesn't feel like a joke anymore and he wants nothing but you on his side.
PAIRING â streetracer!sukuna x fem!reader
CONTENT WARNINGS / GENRES / TAGS â smau w/ written chapters, smut, angst, sukuna is a lot older than reader, older brother to choso and yuji, he was in jail for getting caught racing LOL, nsfw/vulgar jokes like allll the time, inumaki talks (UNFORTUNATELY), sukuna playing w her feelings, he is toxic!
NOTE â i don't know too much about street racing, so if i make mistakes pls lmk!!
PROFILES:
YOU THE BIRTHDAY CAKE | FUTURE COUGARS & MILFS
01: WHAT SHALL I RENDER?
02: LET'S ALL MOAN
03: 15 UNFORTUNATE SIGNS YOUR HUSBAND DOESN'T LOVE YOU ANYMORE
ę° summary ęą when a misunderstanding leaves your family convinced youâre bringing a plus one to your cousinâs wedding in Japan, the last person you expect to volunteer for the role is your infuriatingly observant intern, Satoru. itâs supposed to be temporary. professional. strictly off the record. but with your mother already sold on the idea of your mystery boyfriend, and Satoru proving far too good at the role, pretending starts to feel a little too dangerous. also, why is your âinternâ secretly the heir to gojo corporation?!
ę° tags/warnings ęą fake dating âšď¸ undercover ceo! satoru âšď¸ accountant! reader âšď¸ satoru is 29, reader is 26 âšď¸ lots of family pressure. reader has a complicated relationship with her mom âšď¸ forced proximity âšď¸ one bed trope âšď¸ slow burn âšď¸ mutual pining âšď¸ wedding chaos âšď¸ angst and fluff âšď¸ some suggestive content but no explicit smut âšď¸
ę° authors note ęą hi cuties! this is a commission piece, and it is about 12k total. this first part is just shy of 6k and the second part will be out next week. i hope you enjoy đŤśđť (art by @/hanamin_0123 on x)
main masterlist - part 2 >>>
"Oi. Boss lady."
âNo.â
One problem at a time, and the spreadsheet in front of you wins by default. Because Column F is wrong. Itâs been wrong for forty fucking minutes, and if it stays wrong for forty seconds longer, you may actually die here at your desk â hunched over, half-blind, and found by Shoko on a Monday morning with your face pressed into a pivot table like a cautionary tale.
"But⌠you don't even know what I was gonnaâ"
"âthe answer is no, Satoru."
Unlike the human embodiment of a headache currently lingering on the other side of your desk, the spreadsheet in front of you is at least pretending to be important.
The chair beneath him creaks, and then comes the silence you know too well. Itâs the one that comes right before he decides to be a problem on purpose. Attention is gasoline and Satoru is, structurally, a fire hazard. Still, your eyes flick up, andâ
"No fairâŚâ he huffs, that ridiculous pout tugging at his lips. âYou didn't even let me finish the question."
Your eyes roll back down.
âMhm.â
"And it was such a good question.â
You turn a page. "Really?â
âYup.â Heâs draped over the corner of your desk now, like gravity has wronged him, whining. âIt was such a thoughtful⌠personal⌠deeply relevant⌠extremely genius level getting-to-know-you tier question thatââ
You scowl. "âSatoru, enough. Just do your job."
It lands harder than expected. The sigh he lets out is deeply, theatrically offended. And when you glance up again, heâs sprawled over that same corner of your desk you made the mistake of clearing for him on day one because youâd thought, foolishly, that giving him a designated surface might contain him.
It had not.
Nothing about Satoru had ever suggested he could be contained.
Snowy white hair falls against his brow, sleeves rolled to his elbows; looking far too expensive and far too comfortable for someone whose official title is intern. His coffee is sweating beside your open planner â the one with a date next week circled in red: WEDDING, scrawled across the margin in your own handwriting. The condensation trails towards a stack of vendor invoices andâ
âŚ
Wait.
Are those the same vendor invoices you asked him to file yesterday?
Fucking great.
âOh, câmonnn,â he grumbles, blinking at you over the rim of those absurdly expensive sunglasses he insists on wearing indoors. âOne question. Just a tiiiiny one. Itâs completely harmless. Humor me, yeah?â
You narrow your eyes.
âSatoru, youâve been trying to ask one question for the last four months.â
âYeah,â he says. âAnd youâve been dodging it for four months. Imagine that.â
Technically⌠four months and four days. But whoâs counting?
With an exhausted groan, your eyes fall shut, pinching the bridge of your nose. Noise drifts in from the hall â the elevator, the printer, a phone trilling somewhere nearby. Â But when you look up again, it all seems to fall away.
Heâs gone strangely still. The smug grin hasnât disappeared, but itâs softened at the edges, hooked at one corner with his head tilted slightly. And those eyesâŚ
Oh.
Thatâs â no. Youâve seen his eyes before. Obviously. Four months of them. But right now, with the morning light doing something cruel and unhelpful behind him, they catch in a way that makes you forget you were mid-thought. The kind of blue that doesnât ask if youâre looking. It already knows.
Which means of course, you look away first. âFine.â Your hand drops as you mutter. âOne question. But if itâs stupid, Iâm sending you back to HR.â
Itâs not much of a threat. Itâs his last day, after all, and for reasons you still donât fully understand, Satoru has always seemed oddly immune to consequences â which, frankly, feels statistically improbable given the amount of shit heâs managed to pull in the few months of being here.
âOne question?â his grin sharpens. You point your pen at him. âDonât make me regret this.â Yet his pleased chuckle is already making you. âAwhh⌠look at you. Finally yielding.â His pen twirls between his fingers, nodding with false solemnity. âOkay. So, hereâs the thing⌠throughout these four months working beside you, Iâve seen a lotâ"
ââthatâs not a question.â You deadpan.
But ignoring you, he reclines back in the chair, hands clasped behind his head.
âLiiiike⌠Iâve seen the exact face you make when Mei-Mei emails you,â he smirks. âEven noticed you work through lunch more than you should. And Iâve noticed that little line right hereââ he gestures vaguely between his own brows ââevery time the budget goes sideways.â
Lips parting, you blink.
âŚwhy is he so observant?!
For someone who acts like he doesnât give a shit, heâs strangely attentive.
You clear your throat, huffing. âOkay⌠whatâs your point?â Your hands straighten a stack of papers that doesnât need straightening. âIs there a question in here somewhere, or are you just reciting my habits back to me for fun?â
His grin is far too pleased. âRelax. Iâm getting there.â And leaning forward, his voice drops, like heâs unraveling a conspiracy. âI just find it interesting how you answer work calls before the second ring. Every damn day. Doesnât matter who it is.â His head tilts with a smug grin. âBut for whatever reason, for the past month, your personal phoneâs been ringing off the hook, and you never pick up. Not once.â
Heat creeps up your neck. Not because heâs wrong â but because heâs right. And he said it like it was nothing. Like noticing the pattern of your avoidance was just something that happened to him between stamps.
Oh.
Way too observant.
Shit. He couldn't have settled on what's your favorite color!? Or, what superpower would you have!? No. Of course he had to go for the fucking jugular.
His eyes drop to the planner lying open beneath the invoices. The circled date: WEDDING. And his grin sharpens. âOhoho⌠I get it now,â he whistles, leaning back in his chair and kicking one leg over the other. âWhatâd your fiancĂŠ do to screw up this bad? Is the wedding off?â
Your head jerks up. âF-FiancĂŠ?!â And he rolls his eyes with a scoff, still grinning. âKnew it. God, he must be really in the doghouse. Or maybe heâs just clingy as hell to be calling that much.â
You blink.
Okay. Nevermind. Heâs wrong. That is not even remotely whatâs happening. The most committed relationship youâve had is the one with your coffee machine. And yet⌠part of it feels almost cosmically cruel.
Because somehow, this is the second time in a month that someone had looked at the scattered pieces of your life and decided a man must be hiding inside them. Except the first time, you never even got the chance to correct it.
After all⌠how do you tell your mother sheâs wrong?
Last month, you still answered her phone calls.
Not because you expected anything different. But because somewhere between the second ring and the third, thereâs this gap â this stupid, paper-thin gap â where you still believe she might ask how youâre doing and actually wait for the answer.
Some habits taste like smoke. Some burn like liquor. But yours, unfortunately, had always looked a lot like hope.
Hope is a terrible habit youâve never been able to kick.
âOhâuh, hi mom!â
Your phone was wedged between your ear and shoulder while you stepped out of your car, juggling your purse and what was left of your sanity. You were already behind schedule, and your mother was calling â which meant the day had already made its intentions very clear.
âWhatâs up?â the door slammed shut with your hip. âIâm actually about toââ
ââTrish sent the venue photos,â she blurted, launching into a conversation like always.
Blinking, you shook the bitterness away. Striding toward the towering glass of Gojo Corporation. âThatâsâyeah, thatâs great,â you muttered, badge in hand as you pushed through the front doors. âBut Iâm actually heading into work right now? Soââ
ââItâs such a beautiful venue,â she ignored you. âVery traditional, very grand. But you know the Zenin familyâthey never do anything small.â And as she sighed in awe, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.
The rational part of your brain told you to let this go to voicemail. But the rational part of your brain has never once won this fight. BecauseâŚ
Hope is a terrible habit youâve never been able to kick.
"Mom, I'm sure it's lovely, really⌠but I'm kind ofâum, excuse meâŚ" you pivoted around a man in the bustling lobby with a sigh. âSorry. Iâm literally walking into the building right now? But maybe we can revisit this later andâ"
"âhave you booked your flight yet?"
Your mouth flattened.
Clearly, your half of this conversation is optional.
âNo⌠not yet,â you mumbled, as patiently as you could manage, jabbing the up button harder than necessary. âItâs been a crazy ass week so I havenât had a chance to, butââ
ââevery week is a crazy week for you.â The huff she let out sounded almost offended by the inconvenience of your life. âWhy canât you just book it now while weâre talking? I mean, it literally takes five minutes.â
A miracle, really, that your blood pressure isnât a medical emergency.
Every week is a crazy week?
Yeah. No shit.
Two managers resigned last quarter. Another got escorted out by security. And their work didnât disappear. No. It landed on your desk. Because thatâs how it goes. Thatâs how itâs always gone. Group projects. Internships. End-of-quarter disasters no one else wanted to touch. If something needed fixing, it found its way to you.
Youâre the one people relied on.
Just⌠never the one people chose.
âMother. Iâm at work,â you said, stepping into the elevator as the doors slid open, dropping your voice as you stabbed at floor fifteen. âLookâIâm about to walk into an eight a.m. meeting. But Iâll book it tonight, promise.â
ââŚeight a.m.?â she repeated slowly, before letting out a small, unbothered laugh. âOh! Right. Itâs eight p.m. here. Silly me. I keep forgetting.â
âŚ
Keep forgetting?
She keeps forgetting that sheâs ten thousand miles away? Forgetting that twenty years ago she abandoned you in another country to live abroad in Japanâhanding you to your grandparents like a detail she'd get back to later?
How convenient that she forgot that.
The elevator slid shut, and you watched the numbers tick upward. âUm. YeahâŚâ you managed, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice. âAnyways. Iâll book it tonight. After work. Okay?â
"Okay, okay. Sure. Sounds good. But are you bringing anyone?â
Squeezing the strap of your bag, you swallowed the lump in your throat. This again? The last thing you needed was to walk into your shitty eight a.m. meeting looking emotional.
No thanks.
âI⌠uhâŚâ you cleared your throat. âI umâactuallyâhavenât decided yet. But anyways, I gotta go, soââ
âWaitwatiwait. Havenât decided? Does that mean⌠you actually found someone?!â
Her voice pitched up so fast it almost startled you, and your mouth dropped so low it couldâve hit floor one.
Shit.
âI-IâI didnât sayâ"
ââoh, thank God. This is incredible!!â she squealed. âWeâve been so worried. I meanâTrish is younger than you and she figured it out,â her tongue clicked. âPeople have been asking questions, you know. Your aunt Sara keeps bringing it up every time I see her andââ
ââMom, Iâ"
ââItâs about time,â The laugh she let out was relieved, like a problem in her life had finally begun resolving itself. âYou canât keep putting love on hold forever, because men arenât going to wait around forever. Youâre already twenty-sixânot getting any younger, dear.â
Love?!
Who has time for that?
And why the fuck is twenty-six the age a woman expires?!
âWhatâs his name?â she pressed, practically beaming through the phone. âWhat does he do? Is he from there, orâoh, is he Japanese? Your father would love that, he always saidââ
And she was off.
Spinning an entire man out of thin air. An entire future, really. Building him in real time from a tiny slip up you had because you were too tired and cornered and desperate enough to answer the phone in the first place. And you stood there, letting her. Because interrupting her has never once worked in the history of your life.
ââactually, never mind,â she chirped a moment later, as if she was being considerate now. âYou have work. Iâll call tomorrow and you can tell me everything, yes? Okay, bye-bye honeyââ
Click!
And just like that, the elevator went quiet. You were left staring at your reflection in the metal doors, phone pressed to your ear, listening to the silence where your motherâs voice had been.
âWeâve been so worried.â
âŚ
If they were so worried⌠why had you spent most of your life learning to take care of yourself? And yet, the second there might be a man, suddenly youâre worth getting excited about?
Funny how that works.
Scoffing, you lowered the phone, shoving it into your bag just as the elevator chimed open. Itadori Yujiâs head snapped up behind the reception desk.
âMorning, boss,â he waved, radiating sunshine as you walked towards the conference room. âKentoâs asking if youâre still good for the budget review at eight⌠or if I should just tell him to panic.â
Your smile softened, burying the sting. âYes⌠Iâll be right there.â And as you stepped through the polished glass doors, you played the role youâd always played.
The reliable one. Twenty-six years old, with two masterâs degrees, a career at one of the most competitive corporations in the world, and a team of seven that would quietly fall apart without you.
ButâŚ
None of that glitters quite like a diamond ring, does it?
âOi,â Satoru frowns. âYouâre makinâ that face again.â
âHuh?â
Blinking out of your spiral, your eyes trace back to the man across from you. His chin is resting in his palm, those impossibly blue eyes fixed on you with a quiet stillness that makes something in your chest trip over itself â like a lock turning in a door you didnât know was closed.
âOh.â You clear your throat, forcing the pen back into motion. ââŚwhat face?â
âThe one you make when somethingâs wrong,â he says quietly, gaze unmoving. âWhen youâre upset and trying to act like youâre not.â
For a second â one terrible, unguarded second â you donât have a single thing to hide behind. Itâs just him, looking at you like your well-being is something heâs been keeping track of in a column you didnât even know existed.
But then the sarcasm kicks in, right on time. "Wow," you say, forcing your hands back to the papers in front of you. "So⌠now you read faces?"
âMm... nah. Just yours, sweetheart.â
And that grin â god, that fucking grin â hooks at one corner like he knows exactly what just detonated inside your chest. You donât acknowledge it. Acknowledging things have consequences, and consequences with this man are not something you can afford.
"âŚthatâs highly inappropriate," you mutter, shoving it down. "Letâs maybe redirect some of that insight toward the invoices, yeah?"
âSorry, sorry.â He leans back, hands up like heâs the picture of innocence. âWouldnât wanna start shit with your dear future husband.â His grin goes sharp as he twirls his sunglasses between two fingers. âThough, wow. Tough look for him. Whatever he did, he clearly fucked up bad.â
Why does he sound⌠bitter?
No. You must be imagining it. This is Satoru. Satoru, who treats everything like a joke until proven otherwise. Satoru, who doesnât care enough about anything to sound bitter over a man who may or may not exist.
You scoff. "Youâre making some wildly stupid assumptions right nowâŚ"
He perks up at that. "Oh?" With his grin hooking higher, almost hopeful. "Wait. So, thereâs no fiancĂŠ, then?"
Your lips purse.
What does he care? Heâs not your mother.
âI wish youâd be this interested in your actual job,â you sigh, arms crossing. âThose invoices have been sitting there all week.â
âUh-huh.â He tips his head. âAnd yet somehow, I noticed you still didnât answer me.â
You frown.
What the fuck are you supposed to say!?
Oh. Um. Actually, Satoru, there is no fiancĂŠ. Thatâs the problem, actually! My mother invented him the other morning and I haven't worked up the nerve to call her back.
Yeah. No. You'd rather die at this desk.
âMaybe because itâs none of your business.â
âBut Iââ
âDrop it.â
He stares at you for a beat, then he flops back in the chair with a dramatic huff, long legs kicking out in front of him, mouth dragging into a sulky pout.
âWell, damn,â he grumbles, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair, rolling his eyes. âNo wonder youâre single if this is how you shut people downâŚâ
The second the words leave his mouth, he blinks. His gaze flicks up to yours like he hears it too late â like he realizes, all at once, how shitty that sounded.And it only feels worse the moment he sees your face.
God.
Of all the places to hit.
âOho⌠wow. Okay. This?â you say with a thin, self-deprecating laugh, chair scraping as you shove back from your seat. âYeah. This is exactly why I shouldnât have let you ask, Satoru.â You reach for your planner, your purse, anything to do with your hands besides let them shake.
He straightens, watching you scramble. âWhoa. Wait. Iâ"
ââbecause you donât know when to stop!â The words come out louder than you mean, blinking at the sting behind your eyes. âYou just keep pushing and pushing and pushing until you get what you want. Well good. I hope youâre happy.â
Before you can turn away, heâs on his feet. âWaitââ And the moment his hand catches yours, you freeze, breath snagging.
His voice is quieter now. His grip is firm yet gentle, and the air between you shifts, while something warm and uneasy twists low in your chest. The kind of feeling that makes you want to lean in and run in the same breath.
Though your eyes stay down. âSatoru⌠let go.â
âI didnâtâŚâ he starts, then stops, gaze flicking to where his fingers still circle your wrist â before climbing back to your face, slower this time. âIâm⌠sorry. I justââ His mouth tightens. âI see how hard you work, okay? I see it. And every time that phone rings, you get this look on your face like itâs already ruined your day before you even touch it. AndâŚâ His brows pinch. âFuck. I dunno why, but it pisses me off!â
Your gaze hesitantly drags to his, and the look in his eyes is softer than they have any right to be â all that blue, stripped of its usual sharpness, turned careful. Like heâs stepping toward something breakable and knows it. Like⌠if he asked once more, something in you might actually give.
âSatoruâŚâ your breath hitches. âI-Iâ"
âOh, finally.â
Shokoâs voice trails in, and your head snaps up so fast your neck almost goes with it. Sheâs leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, coffee in hand â looking like a woman who arrived exactly on time for something she's been expecting all week.
Her gaze flicks down to where heâs holding you, and the corner of her mouth twitches.
"Sooo⌠not to interrupt whatever this is," she says, taking a sip, "but Kento's one eye-twitch away from a medical event. He needs you to sign off on the variance line before he starts reconciling his own will andâ"
You're already jerking your hand back. "Yupâcoming!" And as you step away, heat floods your face, but you don't look back. Not once. Not even when you feel him still standing there, watching you go.
Because looking back would mean acknowledging that something just shifted. And you are not â not â doing that today.
Unlike those invoices, perhaps some things are better left⌠unfinished.
Youâre gone in a blur of heels, nerves, and professional self-preservation, leaving Shoko trailing behind and Satoru staring at the empty doorway like maybe the conversation might wander back through it.
It doesnât.
And itâs not long before his mouth is pulling into a slow, petulant poutâjust before he flops back in the chair with all the elegance of a man personally betrayed by the universe.
Un-fucking-believable.
Heâd almost had you! After four months and four days of being stonewalled, redirected, and professionally shut down, youâd finally looked like you might give him something. A crack. A sliver. And then Kento had to ruin it with his stupid reconciliation sheet, his stupid earnest face, and his stupidly impeccable timing.
âŚ
He could fire Kento.
Should he fire Kento?
As tempting as that thought is, Satoru settles for glaring at the empty doorway a second longer before dragging a hand down his face and raking it back through his hair. Thereâs no point. This performance will end soon. Because by this time tomorrow, heâll be on a flight back to Tokyo. Where he can resume the slow, agonizing process of preparing to inherit a company he didn't actually give a shit about.
'Grow up, Satoru.'
'Apply yourself, Satoru.'
'You have no idea what it takes to run something like this, Satoru.'
Right. Because apparently, the heir to a multinational corporation needed to learn humility. Alphabetize files. Sit in a cubicle. Fetch coffee like some goddamn spreadsheet slut with a trust fund and nowhere to put it.
Four years of business school, two years shadowing his father; and yet, this is what they had for him?!
He scoffs. And when his gaze drops to the wreckage of your desk, heâs pulling the stack of vendor invoices toward him with a sigh that sounds put-upon even to his own ears. Youâve been nagging him about filing them for the better part of the week and⌠the least he can do is clear one thing before he goes.
The stamp thuds against the first page. Then the next. Then the next. And with muscle memory taking over, his face goes blank in the way it always does when boredom finally wins. Itâs mindless shit. Still, heâs used to it. So naturally, when the phone on your desk buzzes, he doesnât think twice; snatching it up, tucking it between his ear and shoulder as he reaches for the next invoice.
Itâs probably another budget nuisance. Or Mei. Or one of the other thousand little crises that seem magnetically drawn to your extension.
âYo,â another stamp echoes. âSatoru speaking.â
Thereâs a sharp inhale. ââŚwho?â
His brow lifts. âUh⌠Satoru?â Another thud of ink slams against the paper and he huffs, annoyed. âWhat do yâneed?â
The line goes quiet for a beat too long. Before the woman on the other end finally murmurs, âSatoruâŚâ Sighing in awe. âWhat a lovely name. Is that Japanese?â
"Uh⌠yeah?â he snorts, flipping to the next page. âI mean. Last I checked.â
âMm⌠I thought so!â She giggles. And her voice pitches like she's just unwrapped a present she didn't know she was getting. âSo⌠Satoru. Why exactly are you the one answering her phone, hm?â
âŚ
Why the hell does this woman sound so invested? And why is she asking questions that should be obvious?
Frowning down at the invoice, he stamps it harder.
âBecause it rang?â He says it like itâs obvious. âAnd uhâsorry, but. Maybe because Iâve been with her for months, so⌠why the hell wouldnât I?â
"Months?!â A soft gasp crackles, far too delighted. âYou'veâyou've been with her for months?!"
"Mmm⌠four months and four days, technically."
Heâs been her intern for that long.
Thatâs the question, right?
"âtechnically?!" she squeals, like the word personally seduced her. "Ohmygoodnessâoh, this is perfect. Four months and four daysâthat is so specific.â
He blinks. But she doesnât give him time to process.
âLook at you Mr. Devoted. Keeping track. I was starting to worry sheâd never find someone like you. Every time I asked it's like pulling teeth. But I knew there had to be someone. I told her fatherâI said, there is a man, I can feel it.â
Pausing mid-stamp, the words slowly begin to catch up. Satoru straightens.
"âŚsorry. Who is thiâ"
ââeveryone is so excited to meet you at Trishâs wedding. I already reserved your seat andâ"
Her voice keeps going⌠and going⌠and going. He pulls the phone away slowly as her voice echoes on the receiver, staring down at the phone in hand to see:
đ Mom
Oh.
Oh, shit.
This is not your work phone. Your work phone is currently sitting at its dock twelve inches to his left. And it dawns on him that he accidentally just spent the last sixty seconds answering your personal phone like an absolute jackass andâ
"UhâŚâ he backpedals. âWait. Iâ"
"I told Sara, I said, we have to meet him andââ
"Stop. I-I really thinkâ"
ââSatoru, what are you doing?â
His head snaps up at the sound of your voice, mouth dropping as he sees you standing at the doorway, eyes wide in horror.
Oh, fuck.
âWho is on the other end of that phone,â you hiss.
He winces, pulling the phone from his ear like itâs toxic â and youâre snatching it right out of his hand. He lets you have it without a fight, sinking back into the chair like heâs trying to physically dissociate from the situation heâs just created while you press the phone to your ear.
âAnd I meanâŚâ she rambles. âI certainly was never one to wait around at twenty-six, believe me. Butâ"
"Mom."
"Oh! Honey!â She gasps. âOh, my goodness, hiâI was just having the loveliest chat withâ"
"I'm at work. Gotta go."
"âokay! I can't wait to meet Satoru, heâ"
Click!
The phone sits in your hand like evidence.
And Satoru â to his credit â has the decency to look like a man standing in the blast radius of his own stupidity. His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. Like heâs rehearsing an apology in a language he hasnât learned yet.
You stare at him.
He stares at you.
And somewhere ten thousand miles away, your mother is already calling your aunt Sara.
âSooo⌠funny storyâŚâ
ââwhat did you do?!â
Satoru flinched, and now, the tears were already rolling down your cheeks â hot, fast, completely unauthorized. Not the kind you could disguise as allergies or blame on the air conditioning. No. The ugly kind.
Great. Fucking great.
You were standing in the middle of your own office, in the building where you work, crying in front of your intern. And Satoru felt the weight of it all at once. In the last four months, he had seen you in every flavor of workplace misery there was. Pissed off, stressed out, one spreadsheet away from actual murder.
But cry?
Never.
And this had his fingerprints all over it.
"Shit," he breathed, panic flashing across his face. "Iâfuck. Okay. Please don'tâI can fix this. I canâ"
"Fix this?" A splintered laugh ripped out of you, and you hated how thin it was. "Fix what, Satoru? You just confirmed a boyfriend to my mother, a boyfriend that doesn't existâand she is, at this very moment, probably alreadyâ"
Another break in your voice cracked, and you squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your hand to your forehead hard like you could hold the tears in by sheer force. But it only made it worse, because now you could feel the wetness on your own face, the heat of it under your palm, and the mortification landed like a second wave.
God. How fucking humiliating.
"Hey, heyâit's okay,â his voice softened. âWe'll just⌠call her back. Right? Tell her it was a misunderstanding. Easy."
âEasy?â you scoffed, the word coming out strangled. âY-You donât understand my mother, Satoru,â you managed, voice gone thin as thread. God, you sounded like a child. âIf she thinks something is true, then itâs true. Thatâs it. Thatâsâthereâs no correcting her, thereâs no walking it back, sheâs already told my aunt Sara by now and Saraâs told Trish andâoh, fuckââ
Another sob tumbled out, and your fingers dug harder into your temple.
God. Stop it.
Stop it stop it stop it.
Think.
Think logically. You're good at this. You solve problems for a living.
But every time you tried to grab onto a thought, it slipped â replaced by the echo of your mother's voice, high and delighted. The happiest she'd sounded talking to you in years. Maybe ever.
âŚwhat look will she give you when you show up alone?
"I canât," you whispered, and the word came out waterlogged. "I-I'm supposed to get on a plane to Japan in a week andâdo what? Tell them there's no one? Tell them I'm stillâ"
Single.
The word sat in your mouth like a stone. You didnât realize youâd gone silent until the silence itself started ringing â your sniffling, the hum of fluorescent lights, the muffled life of the office continuing beyond the door like yours wasnât actively coming apart at the seams.
And through all of it, you could feel Satoru looking at you. His stillness; holding you with an expression you'd never seen on him before and couldn't categorize if you tried.
"UmâŚâ he looked down, scratching the back of his neck. âSoooo... the wedding's in Japan?"
You blinked. âWhat?â And as you wiped your face with the back of your hand, his gazed tentatively flicked back up. âThe weddingâŚâ he repeated, voice careful. âItâs in Japan?â
"Yes." Your brow furrowed, not understanding. "Why?"
He didn't answer right away. Just looked down at the floor for a second, jaw shifting, like he was turning something over in his head â something he hadn't fully assembled yet but could already feel the shape of.
"Huh⌠okay."
Okay what?
You watched his expression change in real time â from guilt to calculation to something else. "Right then!" He said, clapping his hands once, bright and sudden. "No biggie. I'll just go with you."
No biggie?
Your mouth dropped.
That wasnât even an option, was it?
âŚis he crazy?
âYouâre kidding,â your laugh was awkward and breathless. His eyes rolled with a smug grin. âSweetheart, câmon,â and he was gesturing between the two of you like the answer was sitting there in plain sight and you were the only person in the room committed to not seeing it. "Your family thinks you're bringing someone? Cool." A hand pressed to his chest with theatrical solemnity. "I'm someone."
You stared at him. Genuinely stared.
Oh. He wasnât kidding.
Yup. Heâs crazy.
"You are not 'someone,' Satoru. You are my intern."
âYeah. For like⌠another six hours?"
He checked his watch with a shrug, and your lips flattened.
"âŚthat is not the point."
âMm⌠feels a little like the point."
He smirked, but it faded faster than usual, dimming at the edges as his blue eyes hesitated on yours. Something shifted in his posture; the performance pulling back, like a tide going out. "Um⌠lookâŚ" He pushed off the desk, stepping closer. "Itâs really no hassle." He said, hands sliding into his pockets. "I already have a flight scheduled. My family's in Tokyo. And I was going back after this internship anyway, so⌠this just moves my timeline back a little."
He was shrugging like it wasnât a big deal. Like he wasnât agreeing to fly across the world with you and walk straight into the disaster that was your family.
âŚ
His familyâs in Japan too?
You barely knew anything about him. He kept his life sealed off with the same practiced deflection you kept yours â jokes in place of answers, charm in place of honesty. You never bothered to ask, because asking meant caring and that was a door you never intended to walk through with anyone.
ButâŚ
"Just⌠let me come with you. Iâll be your boyfriend for the weekend. For the wedding. For⌠whatever you need,â he said. And this time, when he stepped closer, there was no grin to hide behind. "I can be useful. I caused this. So⌠let me fix it."
Heat creeped up your neck, and you scoffed, weakly.
"Okay⌠but you can't fix my mother."
"NoâŚâ he murmured, tilting his head. His hand came up and brushed a tear trailing down your cheek with a careful gentleness. âBut⌠I can make sure you don't have to walk in there alone?"
Your breath hitched, and when your eyes finally lifted, the morning light was being cruel again â catching in that impossible blue and turning it soft. Like stained glass dipped in sunlight. Like something holy made dangerous by the simple fact that it was looking straight at you.
âMhn. So, do I get the job, boss lady? Because that look youâre giving meâŚâ a slow smirk curls up the corner of his mouth. âVery encouraging for my boyfriend rĂŠsumĂŠ, by the way. Might get addicted to it and wanna make it a full-time gig.â
âShut up,â you mutter, looking away too fast to be convincing.âThat was not a look. I was justââ You grimace. ââŚnever mind.â
Heâs chuckling as you brush past him. And his words are what scared you the most. Which was bad. Very, very bad. Because your mother was one problem. Japan was another. But Satoru looking at you like that?
ShitâŚ
That felt like the kind of complication that didnât stay neatly contained. And you knew better than anyone. Nothing about Satoru had ever suggested he could be contained.
a/n: hehe. this has been fun to work on! i am excited to share the next part. clearly i love these fake dating/fake marriage tropes aha đââď¸ bc this is like... whatâmy third time doing it? soooo i tried to change things up and make it feel less standard/generic :) but anyways, like i said pt 2 will be out in a week, pls lmk if you wanna be tagged đ
Pairing: Rancher!DILF!Nanami x Southern College Girl!Reader
Synopsis: Youâve had your eye on the hot blonde rancher Nanami since you were a girl. His big, veiny hands, deep voice and loving nature for his kids always made you daydream about one day marrying him. At the time he was married, but when you return home, heâs since been divorced and youâve taken notice of how time has aged him deliciously. Heâs noticed the same about you. Is that why heâs always staring at your ass in your jeans? Or why he insists that you bake his kids another one of your famous pies just to get you to visit?
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI); No Curse/Modern AU; Older!Nanami (Early-Late 40s); x Younger!Reader (19-22 Years Old); Forbidden Romance; Childhood Crush; Single DILF/Divorced!Nanami; Baking Trope lol; Close Proximity; Eye Fucking; Mutual Seduction; Sexual Tension; Food Play; Nanami Tastes Your Apple Pie; Mutual Oral (Giving n Receiving); CHEST HAIR SUPREMACY!!; Deepthroat; Pussy-Eating; Kitchen Sex; Doggy on the Counter; Reader Cums 2x; Spanking; Mild Choking; Rough Sex; Hair-Pulling; Dom!Nanami x sub!Reader; Almost Caught; No Creampie; Facial & Cum on Tits; Aftercare
Word Count: 15.3k
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!Â
Writer's Note: IT'S FINALLY HEEEEERE!! Thank y'all so so very much for your patience!! I hope y'all love this one & take joy in reading it as I did in writing it đĽşđĽş There ain't nothing hotter than Older!Nanami fucking the shit out of Younger!Reader lol -love, Jazz
Credits: Nanami fanart made by the talented Aransmind! Dividers made by @bbyg4rlhelps & @chrisssiren!
âYouâre starinâ again.â
Your brother Ino watches you intently from beside you, leaning against the counter chomping on an apple. If it wasnât for the crisp crunch of the apple between his teeth, you wouldnât have even heard him. Youâre too busy staring out the window across the cut, green grass fields at the hot rancher.Â
He is currently cutting the grass belonging to the old farm couple across the way from your auntâs estate; the epitome of Southern luxury under magnolia trees. To anyone else passing by, they would admire your auntâs home, but you?Â
Youâre more enraptured by the craftsmanship and beauty of the gorgeous blonde rancher flexing his alarmingly (and arousing-ly) large muscles glistening in sweat in the hot sun.Â
You donât know how long youâve been standing by the kitchen window gawking at the rancher, but it isnât like youâre measuring time anyway. Not like how youâre measuring the radius of the blondeâs slim waist to his plump ass in his jeans. No, Iâm not,â you mutter, not even looking at your brother.Â
Ino cackles, grinning at you. âYes, you are. Câmon, sis, the birds canât be that amusinââŚor arousinâ.â You smack his arm hard, nearly smacking the apple out of his hand. âHush up! That ainât funny, Ino!âÂ
Thatâs when your aunt makes her grand appearance in her polka-dot apron and lace gown, her hair pinned up in a bun to keep the strands off of her face. âWhatâs not funny? Ino, please put on a shirt, for heavenâs sake!â She grabs a dish towel and smacks him hard on the ribcage, making him hiss. âOw, ow, alright, Auntie! Jeez!âÂ
Ino gives you a cheeky grin as he walks out of the kitchen to throw on a shirt. He shouldâve known your aunt would blow a gasket at the mere sight of skin that isnât considered âproperâ. âAnd you,â she hisses, turning to you with a pinched expression. âQuit starinâ at those animals and check on the pies! They have to be ready for tonightâs annual festival!âÂ
You roll your eyes behind her back as you pop open the oven, letting a plume of sweet-smelling smoke explode from within. Six different types of piesâapple, blackberry, sweet potato, cherry, and pecanâin addition to a small pound cake, peach cobbler, and a tray of chocolate-chip cookies sit in your auntâs $100,000 oven, baking away.Â
âI am, Auntie,â you sigh. âI was just takinâ a quick break.âÂ
You only give the baked goods a quick look before your eyes are back on the rancher, drinking in the way sweat drips down his muscular arms fit for crushing watermelons and over his broad chest. You can see a slip of his pecs and chest hair peeking through his wife beater that he so seductively uses to wipe his sweat, giving you a sliver of V-line and happy tail above the waistband of his jeans.Â
How can a man be so irresistibly sexy yet so off limits? Nanami Kento, divorcee, single father, and local rancher, should be tossed into an institution just for thatâŚand to be protected from horny college girls like you.Â
Your aunt side-eyes you from the fridge, taking her bowl of potato salad out. She always goes all out when preparing dishes for town events and festivals. Like you, she is a slut for praise. âWell, that quick break is takinâ you quite a long time. Bakinâ is no laughinâ matter, darlinâ; especially if you want to find a man at this event.âÂ
You twist around to face her, giving her a side-eye right back. âYes because your famous apple pie and peach cobbler is gonna do wonders and catch me a husband.â As you turn to close the oven door, you feel a sharp smack from the dish towel on your thigh exposed from under your sundress. âOuch!â you shriek. âI was kiddinâ!âÂ
But your aunt isnât. She never is when it comes to her cooking. âDo not disrespect my bakinâ skills. Not to mention that youâve got an apple AND a cherry pie bakinâ in there alongside mine.âÂ
âThe cherry one is for the festival. The apple pie is for Nanamiâs kids.â You open the door to check the pies out again, having spent all morning preparing them alongside your aunt, waking up at the ass crack of dawn to do so. Your aunt looks appalled at this, placing a hand on her hip. âWastinâ MY granny-smith apples for some snot-nosed littleââÂ
âAuntie!â you criticize her. You spare a look out the window at Nanami still cutting your neighborsâ grass, mowing along and not at all noticing you several yards away peeking out the window to gawk at him. âDonât talk about Mr. Nanamiâs kids like that. I know how you feel about children, but not all kids are bad.âÂ
Your aunt spares a glance at the rancher too even though he most likely canât hear you. âNo, just quite irksome. They pester me like those damn fruit flies around my fruit orchards, not to mention all that playinâ they do late into the night.âÂ
âTheyâre just kids,â you giggle. âI doubt as a rancher that Mr. Nanami would have them act any other way than be polite and respectful of their elders.âÂ
You might have a bit of a sweet spot for the Nanami childrenâtwo boys named Yuji and Megumi and a girl named Nobara who you have known since they were little toddlers coming up to your knees when youâd babysit them. Theyâve grown so much since you were away at college in the city, so itâs like whiplashâŚespecially given the appearance of their father too.Â
Nanami has always been hot as fuck. The blonde heartthrob that lit up your winters and emblazoned your summers living in your small Southern town. Youâve had an embarrassing crush on him since you were a teen, as did most of the girls in your town.Â
During your sleepovers, you and your friends always giggled over popcorn and soda about Nanamiâs big arms and dreamy eyesâŚeven what he looked like down below, wondering if he was just as big as the rest of him. You were quite a naughty teen, daydreaming about the older man you babysat for.Â
Especially since this older man was married at the time. His wife was the one who hired you to watch her and Nanamiâs kids during the summer and on the weekends. You had to pretend not to be starstruck over Nanamiâs dashingly good looks while you were in the presence of his wife.
Though he has gotten older and has considerably noticeable changes (a bit of dark blonde in his short-cropped hair; whiskers of a beard; fine lines by his eyes; the bulkiness of a dad bod), he still has that quiet seduction that makes you simmer. Nanami as an older DILF is the hottest he has ever been. He is just so damn sexy and yummy andâÂ
Bzzz! Bzzz!Â
You flinch, snatching your phone out of the pocket of your sundress to see that the time has shifted to noon. âOh, thatâs my timer! I have to head over to babysit the kids. Good thing the apple pie is done.â You purposely put your pies in the oven at the same time as the very hour you had to leave to babysit Nanamiâs kids.Â
âWait, wait,â your aunt protests, staring wide-eyed at you as you slip your apple and cherry pies out of the oven. You leave the cherry pie to cool on the windowsill while you begin to place the apple pie in a dish to take over to Nanamiâs house. âBabysit?! When did you plan this?!âÂ
You roll your eyes, knowing she wasnât listening the moment you told her. She was too busy stressing over pie ingredients. âI told you yesterday that I offered to babysit Mr. Nanamiâs kids. Heâs goinâ into town to run some errands and I told him that Iâd help volunteer to watch the kids before he gets back.âÂ
As you rummage around to grab a grocery bag for the baked goods and your items, your aunt looks on, visibly distraught. âDammit, Y/N, what about the festival? What about the pies a-and your dress?! You wonât have any time to get your hair done!âÂ
You roll your eyes at her dramatics and pour her a glass of iced tea from the fridge that you brewed this morning. âAuntie, relaaax,â you sigh, passing her the cool glass. âDrink this before you have a heart attack. Iâll be back in time for the festivities, but those little munchkins need me right now.âÂ
You turn to stare in the window, fluffing out your hair and checking your lipgloss. You can feel butterflies fluttering about in your stomach, mostly because this is the first time youâll be back over at Nanamiâs house after his divorce and since youâve visited. Youâve only gone over there a few times since being back in town to deliver baked goods for the kidsâŚwith his insistence, of course.Â
As you primp, your aunt watches, suspicious. âAre you sure this isnât just a ploy for you to skip out on the festival?â she huffs, crossing her arms over her amble bosom. You turn to her, gobsmacked and offended. âWhat?! Noooo! I said that Iâd go, didnât I?âÂ
Judging by your auntâs arched brow, she doesnât believe in your acting whatsoever. Truth be told, you donât want to go to this festival at all. While you used to love the townâs annual festival every summer because of the endless display of baked goodies, ice cream, and water ice, now itâs just a campaign to see who the best possible husband for you will be.Â
Your aunt only invited you on this little summer vacay after you graduated to find you a decent suitor. According to her, now that you have your degree, itâs time to start looking. And she doesnât want anything going against her plans. "Fine. Then weâre goinâ over there together so Mr. Nanami can confirm your statement. Off we go.âÂ
You canât stop her or argue with her, not when your aunt is such a proud lady. So, despite your resistance, you trudge after her minutes later down the road to Nanamiâs cozy little home and farm. He doesnât live in a big, fancy house like your aunt and the many clients he has, helping them maintain their farms, but Nanami isnât broke by a long stretch.Â
As the owner of his own farm and a man with a green thumb, he constantly makes bank with his crops, maintenance skills, and tours around his farm. His animals are well fed, his fruit orchards are plentiful, and the town always approves of his land. You used to always ride past it just to get a look at him, hoping to see him.Â
And now here you are, standing with your aunt in the pretty sundress you planned to wear for him. Knock-knock-knock!Â
Your auntâs fist is firm against the cherrywood door, making you flinch. Cominâ!â a deep, gentle voice calls out. It gives you shivers. But as the door opens, itâs little Yuji who stands there in his fatherâs place. âNanami residence!â he announces with his cute self, his pink hair so soft like cotton candy. When he sees you, he beams with a whole tooth missing. âHi, Y/N! Daddy, Y/N is at the door!âÂ
And then there he is: the DILF of the hour. Despite Nanamiâs casual attire of flannel and jeans, he still makes it hard to breathe. His pecs push against the flannel and denim looks good as fuck on him.Â
âYuji!â he grunts, scowling at Yuji as he comes to get him. âI told you not to get the door unless IâŚâ He pauses, seeing you and your aunt standing there. âO-Oh, pardon. I wasnât expectinâ guests.âÂ
Shit. Caught in your little white lie. Your aunt side-eyes you and quickly, you try to save yourself, thinking on your toes. âU-Uh, sorry, Mr. Nanami!â you chirp. âI had to rush over here just in case you left early for the road. Sorry, I shouldâve called.âÂ
Nanami blinks at you, confused. âYknowâŚto babysit the kids? I volunteered to watch âem like before?âÂ
Nanami is still giving you that clueless expression and you start to sweat buckets in the hot summer sun. âY/N is gonna babysit?!â Yuji excitedly asks. âCan we make pizza for lunch today?! Ooh, ooh, and can we watch movies?!âÂ
âWe can do that and more, kiddo!â you giggle, ruffling his pink hair. You look at Nanami again, hoping and praying that heâll take the hint and throw you a bone. âSo Iâm good to come in now?â you ask, your heart thundering in your chest, your auntâs look a haunting presence.Â
Nanami looks between you and your aunt, silently sizing you up. âUhâŚy-yeah,â he replies, clearing his throat. âYes, of course. Youâre welcome to come in and get settled with the kids. Megumi and Nobara are out back with Maple.â You are more than happy to oblige. âGreat! See ya soon, Auntie!âÂ
Without another word, you run into the house, home free. âMaâam,â Nanami greets your aunt with a respectful nod. âAlways a pleasure to see you. I will tend to your orchards this weekend.â And after an exchange you donât hear because youâre in the kitchen, the door shuts.Â
Nanami ventures into the kitchen in his boots, smirking slightly. âSheâs gone.â
âOh, thank Christ!â you huff. âI thought for sure sheâd catch on. Thanks so much for the save.â The rancher leans against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest. âNo problem. I take it sheâs pesterinâ you about that town festival tonight?âÂ
âOh, more than that,â you sigh, rolling your eyes as he takes your bag from you, lying it on the breakfast table. âItâs been all about pies and dresses and the perfect shoes for days now! Iâve only been back in town for a couple weeks!âÂ
And after a boring couple of weeks, things started becoming more exciting when you ran into Nanami one day at the park. You were sitting on a picnic blanket in your sundress, reading a very smutty romance book, when the sudden sound of panting interrupted you.Â
Suddenly, you were staring at a golden retriever who ran right up to you and began licking your chin. âHey, buddy!â you giggled, ruffling his long, soft fur. âThanks for the kisses! Now whoâs your owner, hm?âÂ
You heard a whistle then that made the golden dog whisk around. âMaple! Come!â someone shouted. When the dog barked and excitedly ran towards their owner, you looked over and felt your heart stutter.Â
Nanami stood there in a white tee and khaki shorts that looked entirely too tight on his muscular legs sinewy with hair. He gave Maple a pinched look as he kneeled before her, ruffling her fur and scratching behind her ears. âSilly girl,â he muttered. âRunninâ off on your own. What am I gonna do with you?âÂ
Maple just happily panted as you got up on wobbly knees, taking your book and bag with you. You couldnât stop yourself or the swarm of butterflies that exploded in your tummy. Here he wasâyour childhood crush after years of being in the city, still hot as ever. âM-Mr. Nanami?â you gasped.Â
Nanami paused and looked up at you, his eyes squinting behind his glasses. âUhâŚsorry, do I know you?âÂ
You giggled, making his cheeks turn pink for some reason. âDamn, did time age me that much? I thought for sure youâd recognize me.âÂ
That was when he looked at you. Really looked at you. And then his hazel irises flickered with recognition. âY/N,â he replied. âItâs you?â You felt your heart stammer at the way he said your name. âIt is,â you giggled. âI grew up quite a lot, havenât I?â You placed a hand on your hip, smiling at him.Â
Nanami swallowed hard, clearing his throat as he stood. âYou surely did,â he muttered. âU-Uh, sorry about my dog here. She tends to run off on her own.â Maple panted beside him, that wet tongue and innocent eyes so endearing. âAww, but Iâm sure she always comes home to his daddy,â you giggled, scratching Mapleâs ear. âHow are the kids? And the wife?âÂ
That was when Nanamiâs face fell. âUhâŚweâre not together anymore,â he explained. âWe divorced shortly after you left for school.â You felt a cold pit in your stomach at the news, guilt wracking you. âI-Iâm sorry,â you stammered. âI didnâtââ
âOf course, you didnât know,â he interrupted. âYou were in the city. The whole town knew within a week though.â He passively shrugged, giving you the impression that it wasnât a big deal to him anymore. âAs for the kids, theyâre off from school for summer break, beinâ pains in my ass.âÂ
âCute pains in the butt,â you corrected him. âMaybe one day I can come buy and visit themâŚi-if thatâs okay.â You simmered with embarrassment, realizing the implications behind your offer. What if he thought you were some wanton slut trying to sneak your way into his heart after his divorce?
Luckily for you, Nanami seemed happy with the idea. âWhy wouldnât it be? You used to babysit them, so Iâm sure theyâd love to see you again.â You beamed, happy to hear this, missing those little munchkins for the last four years. âSame here. I can bake yâall a pie just like old times.âÂ
The idea of using your baking skills to create some delicacies for your favorite rancher was already becoming your favorite pastime. The tips of Nanamiâs ears grew red as Maple embarrassingly sniffed at your ankles. âO-Oh, you donât have to. Iâm sure youâre relaxinâ too now that youâre off from school.âÂ
But you tutted, waving a hand. âNonsense! Iâd love to make you somethinâ sweetâŚa-and the kids too!â Speaking of his kids, they made their grand appearance seconds later when a frisbee came flying by, nearly taking your head off. As soon as they saw you, all playtime was over.Â
She came flying at you, nearly knocking you over with a hug. You had to force Megumi to give you one while Yuji practically shoved his sister aside for a hug. âY/N! Hey, can you make me one of those blackberry cobblers?!â You laughed, giddy to see them, while their dad was embarrassed by his kidsâ shenanigans.Â
âKids, let her breathe,â Nanami huffed. âWe were just leavinâ. Y/N will be visitinâ us this summer, so you guys can help her bake then.â At your clueless look, he gave you a wink that made heat pool between your legs and a stupid grin appear on your face.
Fast-forward a couple weeks of delivering pies later, here you were. âHowâd you know I was even headinâ out of town today?â Nanami asked as he began pouring you a glass of fresh iced tea.
You thanked him, sipping the refreshing, mint-and-lemon spiked liquid. âYou told me, silly,â you giggle. âOr rather, I eavesdropped on you and my auntie when you came by yesterday to tend to her lawn.â The rancher gives you a smirk like a dad who caught your hand in the cookie jar. âStill the same sneaky girl you always were, I see.âÂ
âNever!â you mockingly gasp. âI am a good Christian farmgirl! Would a bad, sneaky girl go out of her way to bring you baked goods?â
You then reach in the grocery bag and produce the apple pie in the serving dish, its sweet aroma hitting Nanamiâs nostrils. His eyes actually grow hooded as he gazes at the pie in your handsâŚor is he actually gazing at the tender sliver of your cleavage?Â
Alas, the sudden barking of Maple and pitter-patter of running footsteps ruin the magic. You turn to see the little munchkin trio standing there, all dirty and sweaty from running. âIs that pie?!â Nobara squeals. Yuji beats her to it, grabbing at the dish when you put it on the counter. âHey, I saw it first! Let me get the first dibs!âÂ
As they start to argue, Megumi sneaks by with a plate, but itâs snatched away from him. âHold it,â Nanami firmly says. âOne at a time. Megumi, gather some plates. But thank Ms. Y/N first.âÂ
He gives them each a stern dad look that even intimates you. Together, the three turn and bow their heads at you. âThank you, Ms. Y/N,â they obediently say.Â
âMs. Y/N?â you giggle as they run off to gather plates. âThey never called me that before.â Nanami shrugs, carrying cutting some slices of pie with a sharp knife. âWell, you used to babysit them when they were babies. Now, youâre olderâŚa college graduateâŚâ He trails off, paying close attention to his cutting. Â
âYep!â you reply, popping the p. âFresh out of college and âbout to get my first big girl job before I go to culinary school. Oh, speakinâ of whichâŚâ You reach into the grocery bag again and produce a small red dish neatly wrapped in plastic. You hold it out to Nanami, your cheeks hot.
âGreen-fried tomatoes for you. I snuck some from the dish I made for the festival tonight if you canât make it.âÂ
You remember how much Nanami used to love them back when you were young, always wanting to bake them for him one day. He now stares at the fried tomatoes in awe like heâs never seen them before. âO-Oh,â he stammers. âYou really didnât have to.âÂ
âWell, you always loved that dish, so I wanted to try âem out. Plus, if you canât come to the festival, I wanted you to get some.â He awkwardly takes the dish in his big hands, holding them, staring at them still.Â
âSo youâll be there?â he suddenly asks. Silently, you nod, feeling hotter than the sun. âIâll try to make it tonightâŚf-for the kids. They love your bakinâ and the town festival.â You nod, smiling, heart pounding in excitement. Could it be that heâll actually be coming?Â
After finishing up cutting some slices, Nanami gathers his belongings and slaps on a sexy ass cowboy hat before venturing to his truck sitting in front of the house. You bid him farewell on the porch, almost like a wife saying goodbye to her hubby before work.Â
âThanks again for watchinâ the kids,â he says as he pushes a wooden carton of apples in the truck bed. The bed is crowded with all kinds of crops and plants for selling, meaning Nanami is about to land himself a deal. Â
âDonât thank me. Just tell me how the green tomatoes are,â you giggle. He doesnât smile, but his eyes do, crinkles appearing by his eyes. You try not to stare at his firm yet plump ass as he walks off to his car, feeling like a harlot even watching. âSee ya later, Mr. Nanami!â you call, waving at him.Â
He slowly turns and tips his hat at you. âNanami,â he corrects you. âGoodbye, Y/N. Have fun tonight and call me if you need anythinâ...seriously.âÂ
âHow many kids do you want to have? Because I want about four, all boys.âÂ
The handsome, young doctor flashes a smile at you, all charm and dimples. You feel nothing as you stand there nursing your second Long Island, the mixed alcohol quickly working its wonders the way this man should beâŚbut heâs not.Â
The night is warm, opting for sundresses, cut-off shorts, and flip flops. You decided to wear a pretty yellow sundress with white flowers and wedges for the festivitiesâŚalso for a certain rancher, but he isnât going to be making an appearance tonight to your disappointment. Thatâs why youâre here wasting time on the doctor your auntie introduced you to tonight.Â
âO-Oh, Iâm not sure,â you stammer. âI love kids, but I just donât think Iâd be the best at raising that many.â You avert your eyes, opting to admire an old womanâs vendor of mini cakes and homemade ice cream two feet away from you.Â
The doctorâSasuke, his name isâgives you a smile, the summer wind wafting through his black hair. âWell, from what I saw earlier, Iâm convinced youâd be an excellent mother. I would need someone who has a motherly instinct.â He sips from his cup of punch, the Rolex watch on his wrist glistening.Â
You smile, flattered. âThank yââÂ
âAnd a woman who can cook. Iâm quite busy with my legal work, so Iâd inquire someone to bake for me. Thatâs the way of a housewife, after all.â Sasuke has the nerve to flash you a smile after he says this, like itâs such a compliment to be resorted to such duties. Maybe itâs the alcohol, but you manage to hold it together long enough to smile at him.Â
Luckily for you, when you hear a familiar whistle, you turn to see Ino and Yuki sitting at one of the picnic tables set up on the grass. âOh, I believe youâre gettinâ summoned!â you announce, a little too happy to do so. Sasuke nods, taking your hand in his. âOf course. Come find me durinâ the fireworks.â He kisses your knuckles before he gives you a wink and bids you farewell.Â
You hightail it out of there, feeling like you were about to melt from boredom instead of the summer heat. The night is warm, causing the townsfolk to opt for sundresses, cut-off shorts, and flip flops. You decided to wear a pretty yellow sundress with white flowers and wedges for the festivitiesâŚalso for a certain rancher, but he isnât going to be making an appearance tonight to your disappointment.Â
âI regret to say, but I may not be able to make it to the festival,â Nanami sighed over the phone. âI got caught up in some errands and the traffic here is awful.â You were standing in the kitchen with homemade pizza for the kids, watching them run around the backyard with Maple. Your stomach pitted from the announcement, but you hid it with your bubbly tone. âO-Oh, donât worry! I wouldnât mind takinâ the kids over myself.â
âI will have Haibara accompany you,â Nanami replied. âHeâs their uncle, so he can watch âem too. You should be havinâ fun.â You only met Haibara onceâheâs Nanamiâs childhood friend and a sexy firefighter that your aunt always had her eye on.Â
âI always have fun with your kiddos,â you giggled. âThey were little angels while you were gone.â You stared at your nails coated in dirt, reminiscent of the came of tag you played with them earlier. âYou ainât lyinâ âbout that, are you?â he chuckled.
You sucked air through your teeth, leaning against the counter. âWell, Nobara and Megumi did have a little scuffle in the mud, but they got all cleaned up.â Nanami softly chuckled, the sound making you feel warm all over. âYouâre good with kids,â he praised. âThatâs a good quality to have. Iâm sure your auntie is flauntinâ that to every doctor and politician in this town.âÂ
You rolled your eyes, not even wanting to think about it. Not that you were opposed to being matched up, but your aunt always chose the worst men to fix you up with. Men who lived with the mindset that all women were good for was sexing them up and cooking for them.Â
Nanami cleared his throat then, preparing you for his next statement. âYou know,â he began. âThe kids really liked that apple pie you bought over. If youâre up for it and you got some left, you should bring over leftovers tomorrow. Iâll pay you for it.â
âOh, no, no! You donât have to do that!â you protested. But you couldnât stop the flood of joy and pride at the fact that Nanami loved your cooking. âI know I donât, but Iâd like to,â he gruffly said. You deserve it for beinâ such a doll with the kids.âÂ
âFor you? Anything.â The thought popped into your head as soon as he called you a doll. You wanted to be his doll. His sweet little doll who would do anything for him. Realizing his slip-up, he cleared his throat again while you stood there about to melt into the floor. âW-Well, you should be headinâ out soon, right? Donât want your aunt to come by with a shotgun.âÂ
Despite your disappointment at him not being here, the sugary scent of your body mist and pretty pink nail polish couldnât go to waste, so you stuck around for the festival. After all, your aunt needed help tending to the loving fans fawning over your baked goods. Plus, free Long Island iced teas couldnât be missed.Â
You stumble over to the picnic table and slump down beside Yuki, your childhood friend, sipping her spiked punch. âThat was soooo painful to watch,â Ino groans, sitting on the table. âHe woulda gotten any more sexist, I wouldâve socked him.â You side-eye him as he sips his Jack n Coke. âNot if you didnât want a slap from our aunt.âÂ
âStill no luck in the love department?â Yuki jokes, running a hand through her long blonde ponytail. You shake your head, giggling when she clinks her cup with yours in solitatory. âWhy is she settinâ you up with these uptight assholes?â she wonders aloud. âWhat about that hot rancher guy?âÂ
You gape at her while Ino snorts into his cup before taking a puff of his cigarette. âNanami?â you gasp. âYouâve been drinkinâ waaaay too much, girl. Thereâs NO WAY sheâd ever set me up with a man like that.â Yuki eyes you curiously, cocking her head at you. âLike what?â she scoffs. âSexy? Good with his hands? Great with kids and knows how to ride a horse?â
She gives you a suggestive smirk while you depressively lean your chin into your palm, your daydreams about the dancer conjured. âI mean divorced and already saddled with kids. I donât care, but she and my family definitely would.â You donât even want to think about the tongue lashing youâd get if you bought Nanami for a Thanksgiving dinner.Â
âYeah, sheâs right,â Ino parrots. âTo our family, Mr. Nanami is considered âused goodsâ. Not good enough for our precious Y/N.â He reaches down to tease your hair, trying to cheer you up. You playfully swat him away.Â
âYou still got that cute lilâ crush on him?â Yuki giggles, poking at your side. Itâs more than a crush at this point, but you just roll your eyes, playing the part. âPlease,â you scoff. âI've grown up since then, Yuki.â But the blonde isnât convinced, still giving you that knowing smile. âSoooo was that a no orâŚ?âÂ
Before you can admit or deny, you are summoned once again to festival duties. âMs. Y/N, Ms. Y/N!â Yuuji shouts, running over to you. âCan we have the rest of your blackberry pie?!âÂ
Haibara jogs over too, his pecs bouncing so enticingly under his firefighter merch tee. âI insisted they ask first. They sent Yuuji over to do it.â The pink-haired boy beams at you, his mouth already coated in blackberry juice, making you giggle. âSure! Yâall go right ahead! Just wash your hands first.âÂ
Yuuji thanks you before running back over to tell his siblings standing by your auntâs pie vendor.Â
The entire festival is surrounded with children, from middle schoolers playing ball to babies in strollers that you coo at. âYouâre really good with kids, yâknow,â Haibara comments with a smile. âNanami would be lucky to have ya.âÂ
As soon as he says it, his smile fades and he facepalms himself. âShit, forget I said that! Too many Long Islands!â You blink at him, confused at where this even came from. Was he already thinking about it? PerhapsâŚdid Nanami mention this to him?Â
But before you can ask, Yuuji yells to his uncle about Nobara not giving him a sparkler. Haibara sighs, giving you an apologetic smile. âDuty calls. Enjoy the festival, Y/N.âÂ
Then he runs off to deal with his niece and nephewsâ drama, leaving you reeling and gulping down the rest of your Long Island iced tea. For the next fifteen minutes before the fireworks, you try to enjoy yourself. You dance, you eat, you chat. But it isnât real. It isnât genuine. You canât enjoy the festival, you realize. Not without seeing the handsome rancher.Â
So after making sure your aunt is busy socializing, you seek your brother out chatting up a hot guy over by a cotton candy stand. âHey, Ino?â you say, tugging on his shirt. âIâm not feelinâ too good. I think Iâm gonna head back.â
Your brother looks concerned at first, but then slowly, his lips curl into a knowing smile. âUh-uh,â he chuckles. âIâll check on ya later, sissy.â He gives you a one-armed hug, squeezing you tight.Â
âNow go get your man,â he whispers before disappearing into the crowd with the cotton-candy guy, leaving you to your own devices.Â
And you take off running home.Â
You donât know what the hell youâre doing. Maybe you had one too many Long Island teas at the festival.Â
You donât know if alcohol has the power to make you bake an entire pie from scratch, jump into a hot shower, slather yourself in cocoa butter, fix your curls up with a nice red bow, and dress in your tightest cut-off shorts and prettiest floral blouseâŚbut here you are having done all of that and more as soon as you got home.Â
Now youâre standing on your crushâs porch carrying a serving dish, drunk and feeling totally stupid. You know Nanami is home since his truck is parked, but what happens if he doesnât answer? What if he does?Â
The sounds of cicadas buzz and owls hoot around you, seemingly laughing at you. âYou should leave while you still can. Just turn your drunk ass around and go home. This man is way too old for you, your aunt would strangle you, andââÂ
Then the door opens and there stands Nanami in denim jeans and a white tee pressed snuggly against his muscular form. You both stare at each other in silence for a moment, unable to speak. âY/N?â he questions, his brows narrowing in confusion.Â
Finally, your brain catches up to your situation and your mouth snaps in action. âU-UmâŚhi!â you chirp, a little too forcefully. âSorry itâs so late. I shouldâve called, I know, b-but IâŚâ You trail off, tongue tied and burning with embarrassment. This is going so, so wrong.Â
Nanami raises a brow at you, concerned and confused. âYou okay?â he asks. You quickly nod, doing your best impression of a bobblehead. âYeah! I just had some pie for you and the kids, so I figured that Iâd bring it over before it got bad.â You raise the serving dish at him, your smile hurting your cheeks.Â
But Nanami barely even looks at the dish, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. âWhat are you doinâ here? Arenât you supposed to be at the festival?âÂ
His soft yet authoritative tone and expression is reminiscent of a dadâŚor a very good Daddy Dom. You feel your cheeks grow hot and you pull at the collar of your low blouse. âU-Uh, w-well, I wanted to bring you over that pie you wanted. I-It's apple this time. Are the kids back?âÂ
Nanami slowly shakes his head, finally looking at the dish held in your hands. âNo, theyâre still at the festival. I didnât mean you had to bring it over tonightâŚor any day. It was a joke.âÂ
Suddenly, you feel disappointment roll over you like a cold tidal wave. Like a flower, you wither and flush hot with embarrassment. âO-Oh. I misunderstood. Sorry, I should just leave then.â You go to turn and rush off before you can start crying and humiliate yourself more, but Nanami stops you. âAt this time of night, it isnât ideal,â he argues.Â
You scoff with laughter, giving him a reassuring look. âI live just down the road, Nanami. Donât worry, I wonât get kidnapped.âÂ
Nanami scowls and you worry that you somehow offended him with the bad joke. âY/N, have you been drinkinâ?â he suddenly questions. Heâs looking at you so scathingly that itâs impossible to lie. âUhâŚjust a little,â you weakly admit. âB-But donât worry, mâfine! IâŚoh.â You pause, feeling your head pound from too much alcohol and press two fingers to your temple.Â
The rancher watches, assessing the damage, and opens his door wider to let you inside. âAlright, thatâs it. Letâs get you inside and get you some water.â You stare at him and then inside his house. His very empty house without his kids inside. âU-Um, I really shouldnât,â you mutter.Â
But instead of listening to that little angel on your shoulder, you give into temptation and step inside the cozy house. Nanami leads you to his living area where he sits you down on his couch. âTake a seat and Iâll get you some water. Feel free to kick off your shoes.â Then he takes the pie and leaves you to relax (and stare at his muscular back and impressive ass).Â
As you kick off your wedges and wait, flexing your toes, you hear the pitter-patter of claws against the floor. There stands Maple with her cute, wagging tail and panting tongue. âHi, sweet girl!â you giggle. Your smile tempts her to come closer and you start petting her immediately. âAwww, am I glad to see you tonight!âÂ
As Maple happily pants and licks your hands, Nanami comes back with an ice cold glass of water. âSheâs glad too. Hereâs your water. And an Aspirin.â He passes both to you and you give him a smile of gratitude. âThank you. O-Oh, and the pie is fresh, by the way.âÂ
You donât know why it pops into your drunk little head, but you start explaining how you made an extra pie just in case but because you had so much, you froze this one with the intention of giving it to Nanami. The rancher scowls in surprise, fixing his spectacles as if to see you clearer.Â
âThis isnât a leftover from the festival? You made this fresh for me?âÂ
You nod, sheepishly smiling. âYeah, for you and the kids. Iâd never give yâall no leftover pie!âÂ
Nanami looks perplexed, leaving you confused. Doesnât he like it? Isnât he happy? âThatâsâŚvery sweet of you.â He says this as if he doesnât know how else to articulate how he feels or what bringing over another baked good means to him. âI was actually in the middle of whippinâ up some apple dumplinsâ for the kids.â
You cock your head at him, pleasantly surprised. âOhâŚyour kids?âÂ
âTourist kids,â he explains with a sigh. âI got a summer camp cominâ up tomorrow from the city over to tour the ranch.âÂ
âAww!â you coo, scratching Maple behind her ears. âThatâs so sweet of you! I didnât know you could bake!â The hot blonde rolls his eyes, looking evidently frustrated. âI canât. But I figured Iâd do it myself instead of botherinâ somebody else to do it.â You now notice the flour coating his jeans, a testament to his attempt at baking.Â
âWell, Iâd be happy to help youâŚi-if ya want! Itâs not that I think you canât do it or anythinâ!â You clamp your lip shut, mentally licking yourself.Â
âWell, now I do,â he replies, his hazel eyes lit with mirth. âKiddinâ. You really shouldnât be up at all though.â You tut, appreciatively sipping the water. âThe water and the Aspirin help. Itâs the least I can do for you helpinâ me out. Pleeeease?âÂ
You donât know why you beg him. Or why Nanamiâs eyes seem to flash at the little whine. âAt least you got manners. Fine, but donât make fun if I donât know what Iâm doinâ.â You slowly stand from the couch, going in front when he leads you from behind. âIâd never!â you gasp, twisting around to give him a wink. âIâm a good Southern gal, donâtcha know?âÂ
âI know,â he murmurs from behind you. You think you feel his eyes on your ass in your denim shorts, but you canât be too sure. Youâre afraid to turn around and look. Finally in the kitchen, you assess the mess he made on the counter: bowls and pots stern everywhere; flour coating the floor; ingredients left discarded.Â
Nanami blushes red at the mess while you giggle. âNo problem for me, Mr. Nanami! Now letâs take a look at the recipe.â As he passes the recipe sheet to you and you read off the ingredients, he gathers them one at a time: eggs, cinnamon, yeast for dough, granny-smith apples, etc. And your favorite part: buttercream frosting.Â
âI can fix the frostinâ,â you volunteer, holding up the whisk and a bowl. âItâs my favorite part.â Nanami smirks at you as he starts to chop apples the way they are presented in the recipe, standing side by side with you. âIf you really must.âÂ
You giggle, putting your hair back and sliding on the apron he gives youâpretty and flowery, just the way you like. âIt used to be my wifeâs,â he explains. âI never got rid of it.â The admission makes you feel down, like something is weighing on your back. Does Nanami feel this way, you wonder? Is the constant wondering and hoping for a new love to come along weighing on him?
Silently, you work together, moving from slicing apples to seasoning the dough in flour. It is peaceful and serene. You find it easy to be quiet around Nanami, not because you donât want to talk to him but because you donât have to. Itâs so easy to justâŚbe.Â
However, you donât mind hearing his smooth-like-butter voice when he finally speaks to you while trying to pound out the dough. âSo how was your school? I heard you graduated. Congratulations.âÂ
You smile at him as you slice more apples for him, each movement you make careful and skilled. âThank you. It went as good as you can expect four years in an Ivy League.â Your family wouldnât have had you gone anywhere else but an Ivy League school, wanting you to have the best of everything for your education.Â
THUD! You turn, watching Nanami slam down the dough, pounding it out the way youâd want to be. His big, veiny hands mold and knead the dough rather roughly, making butterflies flutter about in your stomach.
âYouâre gonna leave lumps that way,â you giggle, making him pause. âHere, let me show you.â You lower the knife for slicing and scoot closer to him, unbeknownst of his blush. âSpread the dough out like this,â you instruct, spreading the dough out with your hands until itâs semi flat. âThen use the rollinâ pin to make it real smooth.âÂ
You pass Nanami a rolling pin and, not even thinking about it, take his hands and position them the correct way on the pin. He allows it, quiet, watching your hands move his, rolling the pin back and forth. Once heâs got it, you let go, ignoring the zing of electricity that exploded through your veins from his touch.Â
Mentally berating yourself, you go right back to your post and put all the apple slices in a bowl to be seasoned. âA-Anyway, now Iâm just here for a vacay before I go back to the city for work. And to find a husband.âÂ
â....What?âÂ
You begin to gingerly season the apples with cinnamon and nutmeg. âBut truthfully I wanna stay here to build my own bakery andââÂ
âWait, hang on,â Nanami interrupts, staring at you in utter confusion. âYouâre here to find a husband you said?Â
At his narrowed brow and hot, hazel eyes behind his glasses, you flush. âO-Oh, that slipped out. My bad. My auntie is convinced I need to start lookinâ for a suitable man as a husband since I ainât gettinâ any younger.âÂ
You pause just enough to breathe while Nanami begins slicing the dough for the dumplings. âSo now Iâm here gettinâ tossed around to every event at every doctor, lawyer, and rich college boy in town and sheâs tried hitchinâ me up with this young doctor at the festival andâŚaw, hell, Iâm sorry. I shouldnât even be talkinâ about this to you.â You brew with embarrassment, realizing that youâre rambling.Â
But Nanami isnât perturbed by it one bit âItâs fine. Iâm the one who askedâŚso would you ever wanna be married?â He passes the little dough squares to you and together, you begin to put apple slices in each one before clamping the squares shut, building little pockets for the apples to bake in.Â
âOf course! Itâs been my dream ever since I was a little girl. I just wanna meet the right one and start a family with them.â You feel slightly uncomfortable with how safe you feel talking to Nanami about things like this. Private things. How does he have such power over you? âDid youâŚ.â You pause, biting your lip.Â
âDid I what?â he gently pushes, his gaze locked on you. You contemplate even asking the question, unsure if youâre warranted to do so. But under the rancherâs prying look, you feel your lips move before your brain can stop them. âDid you ever think someone was âthe oneâ at first?âÂ
Nanami takes a moment to think on this as you begin to place the dumplings on a baking sheet. He takes a little brush and brushes them with melted butter, careful and delicateâŚthe way he would be with you and your body. âMy ex-wife. We were high school sweethearts. Her parents didnât approve of a farmhand courtinâ their daughter, but she loved me just the sameâŚâ
You remember his wifeâthe woman you envied when you were young. It was stupid. Just dumb teen stuff, crushing on an older man you could never have. Finding out about Nanamiâs divorce was like whiplash. You always thought theyâd be together for a long time, especially with three kids. Then you started wondering how anyone could give up a man like Nanami.
âTiill she cheated with one of her wealthy colleagues years later,â Nanami finishes.Â
You pause, gaping at him in quiet shock. How the fuck could ANYONE cheating on this fine ass man?! Is she stupid?!Â
After finishing up the dumplings, Nanami takes them over to the oven and slides them in for thirty minutes. He slams the oven door shut, making you flinch. âAfter that, you know the rest: divorce, she took off, and I got left with our farm and our three kids.âÂ
He doesnât look upset. If anything, he is calm and collected about it. âIâm so sorry,â you murmur. He shrugs, slowly shaking his head. âItâs alright. It happened quite a long time ago. The good thing is that she still wants to be an active mother.â He then takes the dirty dishes from the counter and places them in the sink.Â
Nervously, you toy with the ties of your apron, wanting to fill the tension with some sweetness. âWell, for what itâs worth, I think youâre a great father,â you softly praise him. You pause, murmuring, âAnd you were a great husband too. You deserve someone you can count on.âÂ
You didnât think Nanami would hear it, but he does, and he turns to you, mouth parted in shock. âY/N,â he says in that deep, captivatingly sexy voice.Â
MOOOOOOOO!
You jump at the sudden sound, looking out the window to see a black-and-white cow galloping in the backyard. âGoddammit,â Nanami grunts. âDamn cow got out again. Stay here; Iâll take care of it.â And then heâs gone, allowing yourself to properly breathe. The kitchen is getting too hotâŚand not just from the dumplings!
You should leave while you still can. Salvage your friendly relationship while itâs still intact. But instead, you pick up the mixing bowl and get started on the buttercream frosting. You hum as you pour, mix, and whisk, the cooking taking you out of your body for a while.Â
But then your mind wanders and you picture yourself mixing just like this, standing in a pretty dress while Nanami comes home to you from work, his hands on your hips and his soft lips on your neck.Â
Your fantasies are only ruined when Nanami comes back inside the kitchen, huffing from the cow situation. âOh, youâre back!â you happily exclaim. âYou can be my guinea pig and try this frostinâ for the dumplinsâ. I think itâs kinda sweet, but a lot of kids love sweet stuff, but what do you think?âÂ
The ranger stands there as stiff as a board, coming off like he doesnât understand your bubbly rambling. âErmâŚIâm not much of a sweets person,â he coughs. âMy only exception is the pie.âÂ
Still, you smile, giggling so sweetly. âThatâs okay! You can still try the frostinâ, right? Itâs for you, after all.â You take a clean spoon and scoop up a bit from the bowl, holding it out to him. âHere ya go,â you chirp, smiling brightly at him, but that smile quickly fades after what Nanami does next.Â
In a flash, his hand is wrapped around your wrist and heâs bringing your hand to his mouth for a lick. His pink tongue juts out between his lush lips to taste the sweet, vanilla-flavored cream, the sight of it making you feel hot all over. Your smile fades and the tingles you felt earlier with him so close return, traveling straight to your panties.Â
His eyes flutter shut as he licks the cream off the spoon, his blonde lashes fanning his cheeks. A sift him leaves his lips, making you teem with arousal. When he finally finishes licking every bit of frosting off the spoon, he comes back to his senses and stares at you in total horror.Â
âIâm sorry,â he immediately says. âI-I shouldnât haveâŚI donât know why IâŚfuck.â He steps away from you, running a hand through his hair.Â
âI-Itâs okay,â you stammer, shocked you can even speak. âItâs my fault. I shouldnât have pushed you to try itâŚum, you got some here.â You point at the the curved if his mouth where a dot of frosting lingers. He wipes at his chin, not quite getting it, causing you to giggle. âI got it.âÂ
You reach toward him and wipe the frosting from his mouth. And before you stop yourself, you reach out to wipe the cream off of his chin and lick it off of your finger. Everything tastes good coming from Nanami. You wonder briefly if youâd taste as sweet if you were on his tongue. Â
But the brief thought disperses once you come back to your senses and see how Nanami is staring at you. âOh, no, no, no! What did I just do?â
âI donât know why I just did that,â you weakly say. âI-I should go.â Immediately, you put the bowl down and try to untie the apron but your fingers are shaking too much.Â
You turn to face away from Nanami as you wrestle with the apron, but Nanami stops you, placing his hands on your arms. âNo. Donât leave,â he says, his voice gruff and deep, but his tone almost pleading.Â
His hands gently lower yours off of the apron and trail down to your hips, holding you against the counter. He holds you like heâs desperate for you to stay, his fingers clutching the apron.Â
You are frozen. Totally and completely. âNanami?â you exhale. âWhat are you doinâ?âÂ
Nanami is silent for a moment, simply standing there behind you, making you feel all of his muscles pushed against your back. âYou make this so hard for me, yâknow,â he huffs. âIâve been tryinâ so hard to fight this since I ran into you at the park.âÂ
Your heart is pounding against your ribcage, so fast and loud that youâre sure he can hear it. His fingers grip the loops of your shorts as he presses his nose into the crook of your neck. "I know I shouldn't feel these things for you. This primal need...but God, angel...you entice me. Your heavenly cookin' don't make it no better for a man like me."Â
Your mind is racing. You canât believe this is happening. You donât even know how you can speak: âA man like you?â you parrot. Nanami moves away to allow you to look at him, the sheer closeness of him making it so hard to breathe. âYâknow. Older. Divorced. Saddled with kids.âÂ
He gives a wry chuckle; one that makes your stomach flip-flop. âYou deserve so much better than me, angelâsomeone younger and richer. Someone who your family will approve of. Someone whoââÂ
But his words are silenced by your kiss. You place a soft hand on his broad shoulder, stand on your toes, and place your lips on his with all the quickness of how long it takes for you to pop a baked good in the oven: five seconds.Â
It is a split decision that you may or may not regret later, but you donât care if you do. You canât care. Not when Nanamiâs lips feel so damn good against yours.
The kiss is soft yet passionate. Tender yet longing. Nanamiâs lips taste like blackberry and sugar from the pie you brought over and the sweet, vanilla taste of the frosting for the apple dumplings.Â
He doesnât make a sound as you kiss him except for the soft, smacking sounds of your lips connecting over and over again. The slight prick of his beard against your cheeks makes you tingle and his smellâcologne, evergreen, and wood chipsâmakes wetness pool into your panties.Â
How youâve longed for this kiss. To kiss him. To finally see how an older man feels compared to someone in your age bracket. To finally make your fantasies into a reality. Youâve never been so pleasantly surprised and satisfied by anything in your life, not even tasting one of your desserts or baked goods that come out the way theyâre supposed to!
When you finally pull away, your heart is racing. So is Nanamiâs; you can tell from his labored breathing. He stares at you, quiet shock in his hazel eyes. âStop,â you whisper, staring up at him longingly. âYou are the one for me, whether you believe it or not. Iâve been crushinâ on you since I was a teen.âÂ
All those days of riding past his farm on your bike hoping to catch a glimpse of him; agreeing to babysit the kids just to be near him; hoping your cut-off shorts and sundresses interested him enough.Â
You give him a smile now, one full of maturity and seduction. âBut Iâm grown now, Nanami, and I know what I want...â Your hand travels up to press against his hard chest, your fingertips right over his beating heart. âI know who I want. Itâs you.â Nanami continues to silently stare at you and for a second, you think heâll kick you out.
But instead, his big hand finds your cheek and he swoops down to kiss you again, making you moan in surprise. This kiss is still soft and sweet as Nanami, but it is also impassioned. Possessive. Hot. So, so hot the way he securely cups your cheek and presses himself against you, his muscular body flush against your smaller frame and softer curves. You grasp his forearms as he holds your waist, pushing you against the counter before wedging himself between your thighs.Â
Now your hands find his waist, grasping it, pulling him deeper into you. Nanamiâs groan arouses you the way a cute, rich college student never could as he pulls his lips away from yours to take a breath. âWe really shouldnât,â he pants into your mouth. âW-We canâtââÂ
âWe can,â you softly moan, pressing your lips to his again. You canât get enough of them. âI want this, Nanami. I want you.â He pauses, staring into your face, his hand still on your cheek. âKento,â he grunts. Your body tingles at his government the way it does at his touch, his calloused palm so warm against your skin.Â
âSo you want the divorced farmhand as a suitor? Not the doctor that was workinâ for your heart at the festival?â He walks you further into the counter, firmly pressing you between himself and the counter edge so you canât get awayâŚbut you wouldnât want to even if you could. You wouldnât want to be anywhere but here.Â
âNo,â you whimper. âJust you, Kento. Only you.â You press your cheek into his touch, his thumb just inches away from your lush bottom lip.Â
Temptation gets the best of him and he runs his thumb against your lip, making you silently purr. His eyes grow hooded and lustful, exciting you. âProve it then. Show me how much you want this.âÂ
Your brows knit in confusion. What does he mean? Didnât your kiss just a few minutes ago indicate your undying want and need (and love) for him? But then you feel something: his hard cock pressing into your panties, hot and throbbing. You gasp into his kiss as you feel it, feeling like someone just poked you with a hot rod and now youâre on fire.Â
You gently pull away from him and smile, sexy and dimpled. âYou must be so tired from today,â you purr, running your hands over his broad chest, indulging in his muscles. âYou should sit down for a bit and relax.âÂ
Your words are like liquid temptation to him, dangerous but irresistible. Without a word, Nanami pulls up a chair from the breakfast table and takes a seat in the middle of the floor. He manspreads, sitting back and opening his thighs for you, laying his palms flat on his lap. Seeing him throb in those jeans seems so forbidden, but you canât take your eyes away. Heâs so fucking big! How youâve imagined so many times sliding his pants off and seeing him for yourself.
And now, finally, that time has come. Nanamiâs eyes are playful as he regards you, staring at you so intimately that you nearly melt into the kitchen floor. âWell, youâve got me here now, little miss,â he says, his voice a deep purr. He cocks his head to the side, smirking slightly. âNow what are you gonna do to relax me?âÂ
Something switches in you that makes you bolder than you were earlier. Not the alcohol, but something else. Something he caused. You find yourself slinking to the floor and slowly crawl towards him, one move at a time, slinking across the kitchen floor like a predator stalking its prey. A she-wolf or a tigress.Â
Nanami watches you like you have shapeshifted into one of the two, his gaze hot and thrilling, making your insides tingle. His bulge throbs and chubs against his jeans, begging to be released. You notice the way his eyes drink in your swaying tits in your dress and the way the ruffles hike up to expose the lace of your panties and your ass moving in such a lewd way that it makes his Adamâs Apple bob.
A newfound confidence rushes through you, as intoxicating as any Long Island iced tea. To turn a sexy, older man on the way you are turning Nanami on makes you feel like the sexiest bitch walking the earth. And you are prepared to show him your gratitude as you finally make your way over to him and kneel before him in your little sundress.
Nanamiâs eyes drink you in as your hands glide along his belt, working it off along with his fly. âThis is very improper, you know, honey,â he murmurs. âWhat would your aunt think of this?âÂ
Zzzzzip goes his fly as you pull it down and he helps you work his belt off, loosening it so you can see his deliciously dark blonde happy trail. âI donât care,â you reply. âIâve wanted this for so long.â With his bottom lip sunk between his teeth, finally, he slips his hand under the waistband of his briefs and pulls himself out for you.
Jesus. Heâs bigger than you thought. He is all thickness and veins, protruding from a nest of neat, blonde curls with muscular thighs and a bulbous, pink head dripping with pre-cum for you. You canât help but gape at it as your pussy gushes, satisfied with such a sight. âSo when I was a married man, you were thinkinâ about suckinâ my cock?â he bluntly asks. âThatâs very naughty of you, angel. And I thought you were such a good girl.âÂ
His dirty words make you shiver, loving how such a proper rancher can be so salacious too. âFor you,â you whisper. âIf you want me to be.â You wrap a hand around him and begin to stroke him, up and down, up and down, keeping a rhythm that gets you both used to each other.Â
Nanami softly groans at your soft touch, his cock throbbing in your palm. âI do,â he growls. âYou know I want this. Clearly.â His eyes tick down to his cock pulsing in your hand. You look too, staring in awe at the way your pretty pink nails barely fit around his thick shaft. âYouâre reallyâŚbig.âÂ
Your voice is soft and in awe, dripping with arousal and a bit of anxiousness. How would it feel stretching out your pussy once heâs inside of you? âWould that be a problem for you?â he asks.Â
There is a bit of playfulness in his tone, obviously challenging you. You take it and make him eat his words by wrapping your full, lush lips around his cock. âMmm, fuck,â he groans. âThatâs my good girl.âÂ
He is definitely the biggest man who has ever been in your mouth. As his cock slips past your lips and you begin to suck him like your life depends on it, the gummy walls of your mouth and your jaw bones stretch to accommodate his size. But his sexy, deep groans and gasps from your hot, wet mouth sucking him off makes it a bit easier to take him.Â
As you suck, you hollow your cheeks and focus on breathing through your nose as his natural scent and seductive cologne fills your senses. Whatever you canât fit in your mouth, you pump him, your spit dripping down his cock to lubricate your palm so you can stroke him better. Nanamiâs fingers lace through your hair, gripping the strands in an effort to keep you where you are: on your knees sucking his dick.Â
âGod,â he groans. âYouâre gonna get me in so much trouble, baby. W-Weâoh, fuck meâwe shouldnât be doinâ this.â You pause, staring up at him through your lashes, spit coating your glossy lips. âDo you want me to stop?â you ask. ââCause I can if youâmmph!â You canât say much more because heâs pushing your head back down to gag on his cock.
Finally, the sweethearted, respectable rancher persona fades, leaving only a pent-up single dad in need of some TLC. âDonât fuckinâ stop,â Nanami grunts. âYou caused this, so now you need to handle it. Just like a big girl should. Ainât that what they taught you in Ivy League?â
Really, the only thing that remotely stuck with you from college is how to suck dick. The only difference is that Nanami isnât a rich college boy who either cums too quick and doesnât call the next day, or lays there like a dead fish while youâre putting in major neck to make him bust. He is a grown ass man who knows what he wants and isnât afraid to show it.
He tilts his head back against the chair, showing off his sexy neck and the vein pulsing there. âNgh, fuck!â he groans. âA-AhâŚoh, angel, your mouth feels so fuckinâ good. You can take me deeper, canât you?âÂ
âMmmph-hmm!â you mumble around his cock, still sucking and slurping away. Slowly, he brings your head up, helping you take a breath that you wouldnât have taken yourself because you just love tasting him. âSorry, angel, I didnât quite get that. Do you think you can take me deeper?â
You stare into those hooded, hazel eyes, shuddering and gushing freely from his intoxicatingly seductive, sultry stare. âYes, Daddy,â you whisper. Those two little words ignite a forest fire in Nanami, wild and untamed. You can feel it in the way his hand grips your hair as he pushes you down and makes you take the rest of his cock down your throat.Â
Your throat squelches around him as he slips in deep, nearly brushing the back of your throat. Nanami groans aloud, the sound bouncing off of the kitchen walls as the cicadas buzz and the cows moo outside. âThatâs it! Fuckinâ take that cock, angel!â He thrusts up to slowly fuck your throat, drawing his spit-covered cock in and out, in and out, watching the way your lush lips stick to his dick.
âDeeper,â he groans. âTake it all, baby. Show me what you did with all those college boys.â To your surprise, you take him deeper and pay the price by gagging when you feel that little tickle. But you persevere, gagging and sucking on his cock, giving him the best head heâs had in his life.Â
âNone âem can make you feel this way,â he huffs. âNone of âem can fuck your pretty throat like I can.â Your pussy throbs in agreement, hot and ready for him. None of âem. Not like him. You wonder if he can fuck you just as deeply as he is your throat. Can he be just as rough and sloppy as he is right now?Â
You suddenly feel his cock throb and his grunts grow more intense, louder, filling your ears like the sweetest music. âOhâŚoh, God, angel! Youâre gonna m-make me fuckinâ c-cum!â he pants. âYou want it? You wanna take all of my load down that throat?â You feel butterflies swarm in your tummy, excited and thrilled. âMmm-hmm!â you mumble around his cock, ticking your eyes up to stare into his with his cock nestled in your mouth.Â
There is nothing you want more than to feel every ounce of his creamy cum shoot down your throat and coat your tastebudsâŚbut instead, he stops fucking your mouth off its hinges and pulls out of your wet mouth with a moan. âNo. Not yet. I wanna make this last a little longer. Stand up fâme.â
Though youâre confused, you stand up on wobbly legs, damn near soaked through your shorts. Nanami stands too, his stiff cock standing at attention between you. âCâmere,â he murmurs and suddenly, youâre in his arms. He kisses you deeply, shoving his tongue in your mouth. You welcome it with a soft whimper, falling head over heels for his taste. âJump,â he whispers.Â
You do so and youâre suddenly wrapped around him like a kolala bear. Nanami carries you effortlessly to the counter, his pants at his ankles, moving carefully to not trip and fall with you still in his arms. He sits you up on the counter, being careful to not stain your clothes. He kisses you for a few more magical minutes before he pulls away and grabs the frosting bowl.Â
You watch him as he takes a dollop and plops it on his bottom lip. âWhat are you doinâ?â you giggle, before youâre silenced by his sultry kiss. You moan at the mix of him and the frosting on your tongue, everything so sweet and yummy. âMakinâ you taste your greatness,â he huskily replies against your lips. âSomethinâ this sweet needs to be shared and appreciated.âÂ
He takes another dollop and holds his finger out for you. You suck the sugary, buttercream frosting off of his finger, staring deep into his eyes as you do. He then sloooowly pulls it out and drags it down between your thighs. âJust like this here,â he purrs as his saliva-coated digit swirls around your shorts, an embarrassing wet spot appearing in them. âWhat a mess. Guess you wonât be needinâ these no more.âÂ
He helps you slide off your shorts, leaving you in just your lace panties. He whistles low at the sight of you, soaked for him through the thin fabric. âDo ya get this wet fâme often, sweetness?â he whispers, his hooded eyes staring into yours. He begins to stroke you through your panties, making you moan. âTell Daddy. Donât be so coy now.âÂ
He presses his thick index and middle fingers against your puffy slit, making you gasp and grasp his shoulder. âA-AhâŚyes,â you brokenly moan. He smiles and pulls your panties aside, revealing your soaked, puffy pussy lips to him. After getting over the gorgeousness of you, he gently slides his digits against your slit, groaning when they come back coated in your honey.Â
âTaste yourself,â he demands and you do so, sucking your wetness off his fingers, staring into his eyes. âI wanna taste your honey now, angel. Is that okay?â he breathlessly asks.Â
You nod, unable to properly speak. But that isnât good enough for him. âWords, darlinâ. Tell me if you want my tongue in you or not.â He then kneels and presses a kiss against your clit, making you throb with need. âYes, Daddy,â you plead. âPlease taste me.â Youâre so wet that youâre dripping down your thighs for him.Â
He grins at you, proud of your obedience, and itâs like the sun prying through stormclouds. âThatâs my good girl. Now lemme show you how a real man eats pussy.â And after putting a tiny bit of frosting on your tummy and sucking it off, smiling when you giggle, Nanami proceeds to give you head like youâve never experienced in your life.Â
Nanami is a skilled pussy eater. If is ranching business doesnât work out anymore or he finds that heâs tired of it, he would consider taking up cunnilingus professionallyâŚor maybe thatâs just your delirium as he slides his fat tongue along your clit and engulfs your pussy in his hot, wet mouth.Â
Your eyes widen and your toes curl as he curls his tongue against your clit, flicking it in a way that makes your mouth fall agape. Your moans are loud and uncontrollable. He has turned you into a total slut. And then his tongue slides inside of you. âOh, fuck!â you gasp, your eyes rolling back. âYes, Ken, just like that! Fuck me j-just likeâŚâÂ
Your words fail you, only coming out as pathetic huffs of air, gasps, and moans that reverberate against the walls. Slosh-slosh-slosh goes his wet tongue as he slowly slides his tongue in your hole and curls it up, filling you up the way he would with his cockâŚprobably even more.Â
Nanami eats you out like a starving man, holding your thighs apart as you fall apart in his hands. Itâs so good that the tingling sensations that his mouth causes travel up to your nipples, causing you to pull down your top to free your tits and hard nipples. His hazel eyes flicker up to watch your sweet titties sway and your hands massage them, using his tongue to bring you pleasure.
Soon, his tongue becomes something of a weapon, fucking you until youâre nearly screaming.
âMmm, shit!â you moan, gripping his hair with one hand. âMâgonna cum soon, Daddy! P-Please slow down!â You hold the counter for dear life with the other, his tongue lashes just too addictive and intense.Â
But Nanami wonât let you pull away. In fact, he firmly grips your hips so you canât run, forcing you to take the pleasure heâs giving you. âNo way in hell,â he growls against your clit. âI want you to cum for me now, angel. Give me what Iâve wanted for years. Cum for your Daddy nice anâ pretty.âÂ
He then uses his tongue to thrust it upward, nuzzling his face deep into your pussy. Your whines and moans grow loud, echoing throughout the kitchen. You can only hope you arenât scaring Maple as you feel that bubble in your core about to pop as you get closer and closer to the edge of your intense orgasm. âOhhh, Iâm gonna cum! Yes, yes, fuck, Iâm gonnaâŚah, Daddy, yes! Iâm cumming!âÂ
Your orgasm is as intense as a dip in cold water on a hot summer day, shocking you to your core and making your toes clench. Your fingers clutch Nanamiâs blonde locks as his nose rubs your clit, making his glasses foggy. You moan so sweetly as you cum all around his tongue, drenching him in your taste, your thighs clenching around his head.Â
Nanami welcomes it all, his tongue still slashing your insides and drinking you in as you writhe above him, using one hand to massage your tits and tweak your nipples. Sparks of pleasure explode through you, hot and explosive, making you feel so heavenly and new. When your orgasm finally fades, you slump against the counter, breathless and brand new.Â
Nanamiâs tongue slashes slow down, becoming gentle as he cleans you up. He pulls his tongue out of you and sucks the sweat off of your inner thighs before he pulls away, an animalistic hunger in his gaze. âSweet,â he murmurs. âJust like youâŚbut now I need more of you.âÂ
His cock confirms, bobbing and throbbing between your thighs. You watch, mouthwatering and pussy clenching around air. You need him like you need to breathe and eat. You need to fill him stretching you. Filling you. Fucking you until he dumbs a load in you, maybe even a few babies.Â
âYes, please,â you whisper, clutching his shirt, pulling him closer. âHow do you want me?â He stands firmly between your thighs, his cock just inches from sliding inside of your tight, hot, wet cunt. âExactly like that. Just the way you are.âÂ
You both can no longer resist the temptation. Heâs already wrapping a hand around himself and pushing in, prying your lips apart with his cock head. And finallyâfinallyâhe slides inside, fulfilling every fantasy and dream youâve ever had. âFuck!â you both gasp in unison, sharing the same exact reaction to him filling you up.Â
He feels perfect. Nothing at all like you thought, but you love that your fantasies have been uprooted. Nothing compares to the real fucking thing. Nanami presses himself flush against you, his hands gripping your hips as he slowly thrusts between your thighs, your feet dangling off the counter. âIs itânghâexactly what you thought Iâd be?â he pants in your ear. ââCause, angelâfuckâyou are to me. Do you have any idea how many times I thought about fillinâ you up like this?âÂ
You grip his shoulders, your pink nails digging into them. âR-Really?â you stammer. To hear such a forbidden confession makes you wetter, your honey dripping down his cock. âSo many times,â he groans. âWhat if I told you that I wanted this to? That I thought about fuckinâ you while I fucked my ex-wife?âÂ
His big hand wraps around the back of your behind to grip it, his cock sliding in and out, in and out, his pelvis rubbing against your clit. You moan into the air smelling of cinnamon and sugar from the steaming oven, the apple dumplings completely forgotten about. You donât care about anything but Nanamiâs cock inside of you. âKen-to,â you moan, each syllable broken. âF-Fuck, more! I need more, Daddy, please!âÂ
He gives you more, rocking his hips a little faster into you, speeding up his slow tempo for something faster. He locks eyes with you, drinking in your slutty little expression, eyes glazed and mouth agape. âGod, you take me so fuckinâ well, darlinâ!â he grunts. âTake all of me. Every bit of me is fuckinâ yours.âÂ
You couldnât have asked for anything more. You want all of him the way he wants all of you, his hands pawing at your tits as you rock into him, desperate to take him deeper. At some point, you take some frosting and swipe it on your hard nipples, beckoning his mouth onto each one.Â
He licks the frosting from your tits, sucking on one nipple after the other, his fat tongue coating your tits in saliva.Â
You do the same to your bottom lip, moaning from his cock massaging your gummy walls as you swipe frosting along your mouth. âKiss me,â you beg, the sweet frosting coating your lips. He does so, firmly grasping your chin as he sloppily kisses you, sucking the frosting from your lips.Â
His kiss is demanding and possessive, stealing the air from your lungs. The clink-clink-clink of his belt hitting the counter edge combined with the plap-plap of his fat cock plunging in and out of your soaked pussy is a sweet, seductive symphony that drags you closer to the edge, unable to stop yourself. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer, soaring higher and higher. âKento,â you whimper. âI-Iâm gonnaââÂ
âPAPA!âÂ
The sudden chorus of the little trio of Nanami kids rings out from the living room. âWeâre back!â Haibara shouts. âYou in here, Kenny?â Your heart stops and you nearly die right there, not even focusing on Nanamiâs adorable nickname.Â
Nanami pauses in his fucking, but he doesnât lose his cool the way you areâŚ.even though his fucking children and best friend are right outside the kitchen! He places a finger to his lips, keeping you quiet. âIn the kitchen,â he calls, his voice level and steady despite being balls deep inside your tight, wet pussy. âDonât come in here, kids.âÂ
Thatâs when you see Nobaraâs little shadow across the tiled floor. You nearly yelp, only silenced by your own hand clapping on your mouth. You expect Nanami to pull out in fear of his daughter seeing, but he doesnât. Instead, he keeps himself there, plugging you up with his fat, veiny cock. You stare at him in confusion and horror. Is this man insane?!
âWhy not?â Nobara asks. âI smell apples! Are you makinâ apple dumplinsâ, Dad?! You never bake!âÂ
âNow I see why,â he huffs. âI broke somethinâ and thereâs glass all over the floor. I need yâall cuttinâ yourselves. Just go out and play.â The lie is so effortless and believable that even youâre impressed. Nanami locks eyes with you, the lust still burning within them, causing your pussy to clench around his cock.
âYou need help in there, Ken?â Haibara asks, concerned. ââCause I canââÂ
âMâfine,â Nanami chokes out as you squeeze him, locking him inside of you. âJust watch the kids, alright? Take âem to ride the horses in the orchard.â Haibara seems like he still wants to protest, but goes with his friendâs wishes anyway. âIf you say so.â Then, fortunately, you see his and Nobaraâs shadows vanish. âCâmon, kiddos, letâs go have a race!âÂ
Finally, they disappear and enter through the front door. You hear the screen door creaking and the kidsâ laughter in the night until all sounds disappear. Nanami doesnât move for a moment, listening for more noise. When he hears nothing, he releases a heavy sigh and so do you.
âThatâll give us about 20 free minutesâŚif you still want to.âÂ
He holds your gaze, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. You to see him want to fuck you sooo badly, to be as close to you as humanly possible, makes your heart swell and your pussy gush. âIâll always want to with you,â you purr. âHow dâya want me now, Kenny?âÂ
The little petname makes Nanamiâs cock throb inside of you, making you whimper as he holds your chin with a firm, ever-seductive grip. âBent over this counter,â he softly growls. âForgive me, but Iâm an ass guy and you fit the bill, angel.â You smile, practically singing the body electric. You would do anything for this man; be anybody for him if it meant getting a slice of that dick and another kiss.Â
So you slide off of the counter after Nanami pulls out and bend over for him, presenting your ass to him. You can faintly hear the sound of the kids screaming and the horses whinnying from outside, making you shiver with anticipation. The idea that you could be caught is a major turn on for youâŚminus the kids part.Â
Obviously, itâs a turn on for Nanami too when slaps his hard dick against your clit, the stickiness of your pussy lips making him groan. Then slowly, agonizingly slow, he pushes himself back inside of you. You gasp, eyes growing wide as saucers and your mouth dropping open as he grips your hips to hold you still. âFuck!â he hisses out, your pussy gripping him tighter in this new position.
You never cared too much for doggystyle with the guys youâve been with in uni, but with Nanami? He makes it seem new and exciting. He takes his time getting to know your body, paying attention to the sounds you make and your body language. Each thrust inside of you sends sparks of pleasure exploding through you, starting from your buzzing clit down to your toes.Â
Nanami presses his lips to your ear as his hands firmly grasp your hips, secure but not hard. âIs this okay?â he whispers. âIâm not beinâ too rough, am I?â You turn to him over your shoulder, your lips mere inches from his. âNot enough. Itâs okay, Nanami; I wonât break.âÂ
You give him a sexy little smile as you toss your back back into him, earning a loud moan from his luscious lips. âFuck me, Daddy,â you whine. âPlease. I can take it.âÂ
Nanami doesnât need any more confirmation or convincing than your sweet plea or your ass grinding back into him. So he yanks you against him and proceeds to fuck you with everything he has. Every drag of his cock inside of you wakes you up, emitting all kinds of slutty sounds from his throat.Â
He grabs your hair and pulls on it, making you grunt at the bite of pain as the strands are yanked on as he fucks you into the counter. The time you spent on your hairdo is ruined, the red bow now crooked. âSuch a naughty little girl, lettinâ a older man fuck her brains out like this. This is just what you wanted, right?â
You donât answer, too lost in the electric pleasure heâs giving you. Youâre lost in a world of great sex with a hot DILF, his hands gripping you and his cock massaging your G-spot just right. But then it only gets better.
SPANK!Â
You yelp as Nanamiâs big, calloused hand smacks your ass, lighting it on fire. You love it. âRight?â he firmly asks. He spanks you again, the bite of pain mixing with the pleasure, making your brain foggy. It only intensifies when he speeds up, the plap-plap-plapping of his hips slamming against your ass growing more frequent, filling the air.
You grip the counter for dear life as he fucks you stupid, loud moans and whines leaving your lips as you fly closer and closer to your blissful end. âYes!â you chant. âYes, yes, yes! Omigoddaddyiâmgonnacum!â The words are a high-pitched, rushed yelp of jumbled words. You are tongue-tied and mushy-brained, nothing but a tight hole for Nanami to fuck.Â
He takes his hand and cups one of your tits, squeezing it as he nails your G-spot from behind. âDo it then, angel. Cum all over that cock.â He spanks you again, making you see stars, and presses himself so deep inside of you that you feel him in your tummy. âCum for me,â he growls in your ear. âGive it to me, darlinâ. Cum for me!âÂ
At his deep, gruff voice in your ear, so demanding and wanton, you canât help but spill all over his cock. You shake and shudder in his arms as you drip your wetness all over his dick, down to his heavy balls sinewy with blonde hair. Your orgasm is intense, explosive, and euphoric, pulling you out of yourself and forcing you into the clouds, high, high above everything and everyone.
Nanami continues to fuck you through your orgasm, making it much more intense. So much that you can barely take it. His pornographic grunts and moans are your drugs, filling you with such euphoria that you smile. âNghâtoo goddamn tight!â he grunts. âGotta pull out before I breed you.âÂ
âBreed me?â The idea of Nanami filling you up with his babies and making you one of his baby mamas sounds like an amazing idea in your dick delirium. Still, because he somehow still has his common sense, Nanami pulls out of you and you hear the wet sounds of him furiously stroking his cock behind you.Â
âLook up at me,â he pants. âLet me see those eyes.â Slowly, you turn around and kneel before him, all eyes on him and his hand that turns into a blur with how fast heâs stroking. His body is tense, all of his muscles bulging for you, his handsome face flushed. âCum for me, Daddy,â you purr. âPlease. I want it.âÂ
You drag your nails up his body, staring at him through your lashes. You are more addictive to him than you realize, but soon, you get the message. He grabs the counter as he furiously pumps his cum out with one hand, letting out delicious moans as he does. With a long, loud groan of pure release, he tilts his head back and releases himself all over your face and your juicy tits.Â
You gasp as each warm droplet of spunk hits your skin, quickly drying and marking you as his. It is a strangely addictive experienceâbeing given a facial by your older crush. You feel like no other man can take you now. No other man can compare. Not with the way your pussy aches for more despite just cumming. Though Nanami fucked you out of your head, you ache for it again, horny as ever.Â
Nanami finally relaxes, his muscular body unfurling like a flower. After his nut, he seems like a new man, glowing from the inside out. But when he gets a look at you, he blushes a hot red, horrified at the sight of you coated in his cum. âOh, myâŚI made a mess. Here, let me get you a towel.âÂ
Quickly, he gets a soft dishtowel and soaks it in warm water before wiping his own cum off of your face. What a gentleman! You giggle as he hands it to you to get the rest. âThank you, Daddy,â you purr as you wipe off your tits. âFor the towel and the treat.âÂ
Nanami gives you a sheepish smirk, rubbing the back of his neck. âSorry âbout that,â he huffs.Â
âIâm not,â you giggle as you dab at your face, getting the rest of his jizz off of you. âThat was needed for the both of us, it seems.âÂ
The rancher smiles, capturing you with his beauty, sinking his hooks straight into your heart. âDefinitely. You were perfect, angel.â You smile, unable to resist moving closer to him, needing to be near him. âSo were you. Better than I ever dreamed.â Nanami wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer for a kiss whenâÂ
Ding!
You gasp, rushing over to the oven. âOh, the dumplinsâ are done!â you chirp. Quickly, you open the oven door, sending a plume of smoke hitting you in the face. Nanami slides an oven mit on and slides the pan of golden-brown dumplings out. âThey came out quite nicely, didnât they?â you dreamily sigh, humming at the sweet aroma.Â
Nanami peers down at the dumplings as he sits them on the windowsill to cool. âWell, youâre the bakinâ expert. Iâll take your word for it.â You nod excitedly, happy to see him look so pleased. Soon, youâll be able to sprinkle them with powdered sugar. Your favorite part!Â
âŚ.Or rather, he and the kids will be able to do it.Â
That little thought pulls you back to reality and suddenly, youâre completely sober from the Long Island teas and the great sex. Quickly, you pull up your panties onto your soaked, sensitive pussy and your shorts. Nanami watches curiously as you zip up your shorts and then begin to fix your top.Â
âW-Well, I guess I should get goinâ,â you awkwardly stammer. âIâm sure you wanna spend time with your kiddies, so IâllââÂ
âGo?â he parrots, confused. âYouâre leavinâ? Just like that?â He has begun to pull his clothes on too, dragging his pants up to hide his flaccid cock.Â
You stare back, just as confused. âDonât you want me to?â you ponder aloud. You thought thatâs what this was: just a hot hookup. A one night stand with no strings attached. But the rancher stares at you like he wants more without saying it. âWhy would I? You helped me bake for the kids tomorrow and weâŚâÂ
He pauses, clearing his throat. Just the mere memory of what you did minutes ago makes you sweat. âYou can leave if you want to, but Iâd love for you to stay. Youâre welcome here anytime; you always have been.â Slowly, he takes your hand in his, his big palm encasing your smaller one.Â
You stare at his fingers, unsure of what to say. You want to say a lot of things, but you feel like you canât. Itâs too early. Youâre overthinking. This canât possibly be something.Â
Nanami senses your apprehension and slowly tilts your chin up to face him. His gaze is soft and understanding, making you melt into the floor. âYouâre thinkinâ what this can be, arenât you?â he coos. You donât want to answer, but his soft, molten gaze is enough to make you pop.Â
âYes,â you admit with a sigh. How can he read you so effortlessly? He nods, wrapping an arm around you to hold you close. Together, you stand in the kitchen, soaking up the last moments alone with each other.Â
âThis can be whatever you want, darlinâ. Itâs all up to you. But for now, stay and have some pie with us.â He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and, like a moth to a flame, you are dragged back in, unable to break away from this and what it could be. You place a hand on his chest, nuzzling your cheek against him.
âBesides,â he murmurs as he begins to tenderly fix your hair, wrapping it back up in the neat little bow. âWhoâs apple pie is gonna taste as good as yours, hm?â He snakes a hand down to your ass, squeezing it possessively.Â
And you donât know when youâll be able to fuck Nanami again, but youâll look forward to it for whenever it happens. Any chance to get your hands on this fine ass rancher again, youâll take it.Â
Finally, the moment is broken when the kids and Haibara come back inside, sweaty and out of breath from playtime. The kids gape at the sight of you, but luckily itâs just because they arenât expecting you. Not because youâre standing there buck naked with their fatherâs spunk all over you.
âY/N came to deliver us some more pie,â Nanami announces. âYou guys want a slice?â The kids quickly answer with yells of excitement as they fight for plates and then run out into the living room.Â
Haibaraâs eyes switch between you and Nanami, knowing something neither of you do. He smiles, clapping a hand on your shoulder. âGood to see you again, Y/N,â he chirps. âWelcome to the family!âÂ
He then takes a plate from the counter and bumps his hip with Nanami on the way out. âOh, and, Kenny? Your fly is down.âÂ
im sorry but you will NEVER convince me that fics w dead dove / rape / pedophilia / incest etc is normal or in tandem w personal preference. it is very clearly fetish content that perverts within fandoms use to justify their degeneracy bc tell me why there r rapist!character headcanons???? like these people are obv making this content for weirdos to jerk off to and it kills me that this is so normalized within fandoms bc its âjust contentâ, itâs always deeper than that and youâre just using fiction as an outlet so you donât go to jail, you all should be put on a list
summary: jack meets a little girl wandering the ED one night and falls in love with her mom. follow along as they grow closer and their relationship flourishes.
tags: single mom, classic romance, toxic ex,
Ëâŕżŕťâ â
little miracle asks: askbox requests, headcannons, and general statements
Sleepyhead: the first, second, and third meet.
Cupid's Chokehold: the breakfast date.
Blue: miracle is sick, jack babysits
Upside Down: jack, robby, and miracle go to the zoo.
Good Habits (and Bad): day shift jailbreak by miracle
Youth: [viewer discretion] your ex returns, hurt you, and Miracle. jack comes to the rescue.
Cannock Chase: your recovery, moving in with jack and him beating up your ex
Under Pressure: calm cool and collected jack abbot is nervous to propose.
Ritual Union: the wedding ceremony went off without a hitch, kinda...
My Love Mine All Mine: you are in labor and miracle spends another day in the ER. (end of series)
description: you and your attending butt headsâand itâs no secret around the ED that Dr. Jack Abbot is harder on you than the other residents. He pushes you further, critiques you sharper, expects moreâand youâre done with it. Just as youâre about to go to Dr. Robby to request a switch to days and finally put some distance between you and him, your patientâand his patientâtests positive for COVID-19. Suddenly, youâre both exposed, and with hospital protocol leaving no room for argument, you have no choice but to quarantine together.
tags/warnings: 18+, forced proximity, implied age gap, power imbalance (reader is a senior resident but abbot is still technically her boss), quarantining when no one does that anymore, tension tension tensionnn, fine line between hate and horny, headstrong reader, mutual pining
A/N: i DONT WANT TO HEAR IT THAT THIS IS UNREALISTIC. Itâs fun and itâs my fanfic Iâll cry if i want to and u know youâd quarantine in abbotâs house too if given the chance
AS OF 4/9/26 I DONT HAVE A TAGLIST. Pls follow @meep-updates and turn your notifications on <333 the tags arenât fully working so i want to make sure everyone gets notified
exposure || day 1 || day 2 || day 3 || day 4 || day 5 || day 6 || day 7 || day 8 || day 9 (12am) || day 9 || day 10 || day 11 || day 12 || day 13 || day 14 ||
๨ৠexperienced!sukuna x virgin f!reader
[adult boutique au] - ongoing series
â chasing your dreams isn't all it's cracked up to be. your apartment shakes when the train passes and eating a scoop of peanut butter and calling it girl dinner is getting depressing. when you finally manage to land a job at a store that sells sex toys, it's possibly the biggest relief of your life. there's just one issue:
you're a virgin.
you don't know the first thing about toys and you don't want your cute and flirty white-haired co-worker to know. against your better judgement, you find yourself turning to your other co-worker for lessons and learn the hard way he's just as much of an asshole in bed as he is at work. â
๨ৠcw ; mdni, 18+ only. smut. fwb but you aren't friends. slow burn romance/fast burn smut. sukuna is 23ish, reader is 24/25ish. reader is sexually reserved but confident, nerdy, and a band geek. arrogant!sukuna. dom!sukuna. mild corruption. size difference. piv (protected & unprotected). sex toys. dildos. vibrators. sybians. shibari & bondage. restraint. gags. butt plugs. fingering. cock rings. clit stimulants. g-spot stimulants. nipple clamps. remote controlled vibrator. lubes. sex games. blindfolds. aphrodisiacs. biting. marking. possession. dick piercings & tattoos. established safe word. used safe word. loss of virginity. oral (f! and m!). handjob. dacryphilia. mating press. overstimulation. cum play. manhandling. edging. sensory deprivation. (mutual) masturbation (f! and m!). choking. mild love triangle with gojo.
i aim to spread sex positivity, explore the effects of the stigma around virginity, and educate on safety in exploring kinks :)
๨ৠwc ; estimated 100k.
๨ৠa/n ; art by ackshuallyvalerie <3 shoutout to @/yenayaps for sukuna dick piercing brain worms <33
ao3 || wattpad || main masterlist
1 ⚠࣪ untouched
2 ⚠࣪ let go
3 ⚠࣪ coming soon
๨ৠtaglist ; OPEN. age must be visible in bio. 18+ only. permatags will be tagged in chapters.
writing, format & dividers Š starmapz. art Š ackshuallyvalerie.
do not repost, translate, or copy.
as a massive ariana grande fan of like 15 years I've gotta say it
her current physical state needs to be talked about. it's not hate, it's not unnecessary and she should not be "left alone"
and no, it's not to help her, because there's nothing that we, the general public can do abt it. it's to help all the girls and women who look up to her and think it's something to aspire to. it's not. she's severely sick.
áľáľ pairing â bartender!ryomen x hostess!reader. áľáľ synopsis â who are neighbors and get on each others nerves but their relationship changes when she comes home piss drunk and tries to unlock the wrong door. áľáľ includes â plot. plot w smut. chubby reader. body shaming. drinking. smoking. hurt w comfort. ft. yuuji. bit of mean kuna. fluff. could seem ooc. oral f!receiving. soft kuna. creampie. p in v. cheating. happy ending. wc: 4.5k
my routine is the same everyday. wake up. get ready for the day. pick up my nephew. take him home. come home. nap. get ready for work.
it seems like a lot but that shit gets repetitive and just blurs together.
ryomen stands at the bar mixing a drink, lazily watching over everything. a woman sits in front of him batting her pretty little eyelashes at him in hopes of him noticing her. thereâs guys across the bar sitting with the hostesses, he watches them in case they touch a little too much for the womanâs comfort. thereâs guys at the other end of the bar laughing loudly and making noise and the music boosting in the bar is no help for the light headache heâs starting to have.
he sighed loosely finishing up the drink and sliding it to the woman in front of him, her fingers linger on his just a bit as she takes the drink from him.
âwhenâs your break?â she smiled, eyes looking into his sweetly.
he just furrows his brows slightly. ânone of your damn business.â she blinked at him. ârude ass..â he watches her get up to leave with a scoff.
ryomen wasnât there to pick up bitches, so them trying to hit on him always pissed him off no matter how beautiful they were. he was simply there to work and get money. nothing more, nothing less.
it was 3 am and he was just now getting home, a cigarette sat between his lips while he unlocked the door, at the same time he heard some noises. nothing alarming, he glanced to see his neighbor stumbling up the stairs with her shitty boyfriend, his hands wandering around her body, to which sheâs clearly drunk.
only reason he gets away with the shit he does is âcause he's a pretty boy.
ryomen scoffs, and her boyfriend heard. âuhh is there an issue?â god. even his voice was fake. he didnât say anything, just looked at him and looked back at the door, opening it.
you hang loosely off of your boyfriend's neck, pressing a kiss into the crook of his neck, âdonât worry about him babe,â your words slur a bit âheâs just a grumpy man and jealous.â you hiccuped.
he closes the door with a slam. loud enough to spook you a bit in your drunken state, your boyfriend brushes it off, unlocking your door and guiding you inside.
fuck her boyfriend pisses me off. he runs a hand through his hair. ryomen hated it when you brought him over. only because he sees right through his act. guys like him that act nice and sweet on the outside are bigger assholes than guys like him. he could tell, with the way he would catch the little conversations you guys had and just noticing how much he dismissed you. acted like he didnât care much about what you said and would just smooth his hands over you to make you feel better.
when you would sometimes leave your balcony door open while ryomen was outside smoking, he could hear you beg for his attention, for him to want to do more with you other than the sexual shit. the guys just makes empty promises to you just so he can keep fucking you.
I mean come on, he would even interrupt you to ask when you were gonna start working out. he was a piece of shit.
yea he felt bad for you, but he also just didnât like having you as a neighbor.
yuuji pulled on the hem of ryomens sweater, he hummed in response, âwhy does that place smell burnt.â he pointed with his little finger. he looked at him then the door, the beeping coming from inside can only mean so much. unconcerned, ryomen turns back to his door, unlocking it and opening it.
all of sudden you burst the door open like you were out of a cartoon, both of them jumped a bit, yuuji then let out a little giggle watching you frantically set the door open. noticing you were being watched, you glance over.
yuuji holding his little hand over his mouth to contain laughter, other hand still clenched onto ryomen, who was giving you this the fuck are you doing? stare.
you laugh awkwardly, âhaha.. im fine.. just baking.â
âdidnât ask.â short and blunt, he walks in dragging the toddler along with him. closing the door behind him, youâre left in the hallway with your apartment still beeping.
as mean as he was, he did help you out a lot, especially at the hostess bar you both worked at, which you eventually found out wasnât personal, he just looked after all the hostesses. it def stung a bit only because you were finding out you werenât special and that he didnât secretly like you.
he saw you around alot, more than heâd like to.
going to work to see you?
okay thatâs fine, you work there too.
coming home at around the same time?
sure, you lived there as well.
going to the grocery store and shopping in the same isles as you?
excessive.
he saw you so much when yuuji was around he started to show interest in you. always asking why the two of you werenât friends, yuuji thought you were funny and just wanted to play but ryomen didnât want to bother with it.
âyouâre so cute, yuuji.â you smiled holding his hand.
âheehee, thanks.â he giggled, swinging his hand back and forth with yours. you both walked down the street with ice cream. ryomen hung back, watching the both of you. âare you gonna hang out at home with us?â he bites his ice cream, you hum thinking to yourself, sighing dramatically with a shrug, âsorry yuu, i canât gotta go meet up with my boyfriend soon.â
he poked his lip out in a pout, âbut you NEVER hang out with us.â he stopped in his tracks, you stop as well at the tug. âi know..â you cooed, crouching down in front of him. âill make it up to you,â you glance at ryomen. hes standing behind yuuji with his hands in his pockets waiting for you both to be done, looking back at the pouting toddler before you, you clasp his hands together gently. âmaybe in the future you can come by and we can make cookies together.â his eyes light up and you smile.
he turns around, all teeth âcan I? can I?â he jumps up, ryomens brows furrow, he looks at you to which you are standing up and looking away, whistling innocently. he sighs, âweâll talk about it later. come on, gotta get you home.â he reaches his hand out for his. yuuji excitedly grabs ryomens hand, turning back around to wave goodbye. âbye! bye!â you wave back, smiling softly.
a soft sigh leaving after, your phone buzzed in your pocket and you knew exactly what that meant. you take a deep breath and your chest falls as you turn around to leave, thinking about your boyfriend. now, you knew he was shitty, but he wanted you and that was enough.
ryomen leans into his couch, manspreading, arm resting over the back, beer in his other hand resting on his thigh. he was off today so he spent it lazying around. decided to end his night with a beer and movie, a bit later he went to the kitchen to throw his can away and grab another one. stopping dead in his tracks just as he leaves the kitchen, passing by the hallway near the front door, the sound of his front doorknob rattling. his body movements become a bit stiff. was he scared? no. but thatâs just what he tells himself.
the closer he got to the door he started to hear sobs, he raised his eyebrow in confusion. âugh! why wonât the freaking door open.â you cried, trying your key again 5 different ways. the door opened abruptly, startling you. âmaybe because it's not your door.â
you sniffled looking up to be met with ryomenâs rough facial expressions, he leaned on the doorway, arms folded across his chest. already knowing the state you were in. you often would come home drunk but not drunk enough to not know where you place is.
you stared at his bare chest, his tattoos being the clearest thing you can see, your breath catching at the sight. his hair was a bit messy from laying around, your eyes then began to lower, his sweatpants hanging a bit, your cheeks flush in embarrassment, âiâm sorry..â you spoke quietly, hiccupping in between.
even if he's seen alot of you, seeing you cry was new, he looked over you as if to study you. he nods his head up, âwhatâs up with you?â gesturing to the crying. you wipe your tears, ânothing.â you turn around, leaving, wobbling in the process âsorry..â
something in his heart twists. seeing you so.. broken like this. âno. come here.â
you stop, confused, the sound of sniffles filling the hall as you turn around. âcome inside, so I can make you something to eat.â he left the doorway, leaving the door wide open. you hesitantly walk inside after him, âI donât- I was going to eat something..â whining you close the front door behind you.
he comes back to see you sitting on the floor, your shoes were off placed next to you neatly and you had buried your head in your knees, crying. again.
are you serious? his brow twitched. he rolled his eyes, striding towards you, leaning down to grab your arm. âcmon, get up.â his grip wasnât that tight and you noticed, letting him pull you up, you stumble over your own feet as he guides you to his kitchen, setting you in the chair at his island. he puts on his apron that was drawn over, artwork by yuuji.
you let a giggle and sob at the same time, which he chooses to ignore, you then look down at your fingers, tuning out the noises of pots and pans as he moves around the kitchen. recalling everything that led you to this point.
earlier this evening you headed to your boyfriendâs place, unaware of what you would find. you called him multiple times before and didnât think much of it when he didnât answer, so you decided to just go see him and he did give you a key so maybe he was sleeping, but walking through the hallway you followed a pile of clothes on the floor that met you as soon as you opened the door.
when you went to his bedroom you found him in bed with another woman, your co worker.
âstop crying.â you stood in front of your now ex boyfriend in uncontrollable sobs, he clicked his tongue. âI just went to check things out at the bar besides, I was going to break up with you anyway â he shrugged, âthen I thought about wanting someone smaller, baby, it's really no hard feelings.â his voice softer than before, his hand came up to wipe your heated cheek soaked with your tears. âshut up!â you slap his hand away âdonât touch me. you asshole!â
he ran a hand over his face as if he was irritated with you, âlook, it happened and itâs already done. so stop crying, cmon iâll take you home.â he reached out to you only for you to shove him back, âno! why the fuck would I want you to take me home?â he sighed, the look on his face was everything but remorseful. you said nothing more and left, hurt. shattered. yea you knew he was just using you, but things changed when you realized he didnât want you at all.
ryomen watched the table cloth soak with your waterworks, you looked like a sad chipmunk with the way both of your cheeks were filled with food and your cheeks were flush red while you cried. âWhy did you stay with him for so long anyway?â he took a sip of his beer, leaning back in his chair nonchalantly. âbecause he wanted me.â you sniffle out after swallowing the food,
âand? thereâs other fish in the sea.â he puts the can down on the table, leaning forward a bit âyou donât stay with someone shitty just âcause they look at you. you deserve better than that.â you looked at him with quiet affection, chest tightening. you end up flinching at his sudden movements when he raises his hand to wipe your tears, thumb brushing under your eye softly. âhurry up so you can sleep.âand ryomen didnât tell you to stop crying. he just let you get it out.
his hand was so warm against your cheek, causing you to stiffen up and speak quietly, âokay.. ill head home in a bit.â you avoided his gaze, âno. sleep here.â
âwhat. no-â
âyes. its late, just sleep here.â
âryo, i live next door..â
âdonât care.â he picks up your finished plate of food, tossing it into the sink. he then turns off the kitchen light and you grumble watching him walk to his room. moments later he comes back to help you up, asking if you need to throw up and what not. he was surprisingly very gentle, your heartbeat was all but normal so you kept reminding yourself that heâd probably do this for anyone. not because it's you.
âdo you need any water?â you shook your head, he looks at you and you can see the slight concern in his eyes, he then pulled the covers up over you. âiâll be in the living room if you need anything.â
âI can sleep on the couch yâkno-â he cuts you off with a glare, brows furrowed. you shush up quickly and snuggle into the blankets, he rolls his eyes and without saying anything more he turns the light off leaving to the living room.
what a pain.
I shouldâve taken her home in the very beginning.
he groaned, dragging his hands over his face.
I'm so irritated.
he stares up at the ceiling, the small chatter of the tv tuning out as his head fills with thoughts of you.
the next morning was no different while the morning sunlight shone through his glass door to the balcony, warming the quiet room. he opens his eyes slowly, a small groan leaves him as he turns over, his hand hanging off of the couch, brushing against something soft. he leans over to take a peak,
eyes widening a bit at the sight of you, lying next to him on the floor. all wrapped up in his blanket, the morning light brushed over your face softly. his gaze softens as he reaches down to carefully sweep away the hair falling in your eyes and he just watches you, watching you sleep peacefully next to him, he sighs with a fuzzy feeling sitting in his chest.
what am I gonna do with you, huh?
ever since then you felt ryomens gaze on you more than often, mostly at the bar. sometimes it felt like he was undressing you with his eyes, slowly and deliberately. sometimes it felt like he wanted your attention, not that you were avoiding him. you just had to pay attention to your clients. other times it just felt like he was admiring you. your laugh, your body movements, your voice, you in general. it all only left things heated for you whenever he looked at you, and without meaning to you avoided his gaze every time, but that didnât mean you didnât steal glances at him when he finally wasnât looking at you.
âso, you wanna get out of here?â a voice cuts through your trance, your client who you had the pleasure of entertaining for the night. you hum and he only leans in closer, speaking quietly into your ear, âcome on.. i want to take you somewhere nice.â his hand caresses your thigh and you turn, pulling away. âoh! no, âm fine here.â you smiled, creating some sort of distance between the two of you, you pick his hand up, intertwining your fingers with his to redirect his touch. he blinks then pulls his hand back lightly, leaning back in the booth, âwhat? you canât come with me or something?â
âno I can.. I just..â you pause, sighing before speaking again, âI just donât want to.â you smile again, but he doesnât care to see it. âwhy? I can make you feel good,â he leans in âtake whatever's on your mind off of it.â ryomenâs words from before stuck with you, canât just go with anyone just cause they look at you. âI have a boyfriend.â you blurted, surprising yourself a bit. normally you donât tell your clients that sort of thing but they usually take no for an answer and move on as well.
âheâs not here.â he purrs, âhe is.â you spat out flatly, you look over, nodding towards the bar, âheâs at the bar.â he looks up, âhe has pink hair.â you whisper softly.
ryomen on the other hand was fuming, watching this man touch up on you, seeing him whisper in your ear. he knew it was your job and he doesnât feel this way for the other hostesses but heâs way past that. all he knows is that itâs pissing him off and he doesnât care to know why. another bartender nudges him, causing him to look away for just a second and when he looks back, youâre no longer in your section.
âfuck..â he mutters under his breath, frantically looking around for you. he puts down the cup heâs been cleaning for the last five minutes and walks around and out the bar, bumping into you, he looks up only slightly after seeing the somewhat panicked look in your eye, seeing the man from earlier not too far behind you. you clench onto his vest, he looks back down at the contact, âI told him you were my boyfriend!â you whisper and he looks back up, hands finding your waist immediately. he holds you firmly, rubbing soft reassuring circles into your side.
âthis your girl?â he asks, walking up to the two of you.
âyea.â ryomen glared, pulling you closer.
ânah. donât believe it.â he puts his hands in his pockets, âyou can just be anybody. someone she knows.â he leans over, âyou donât have to lie yâknow.â
his remark only left ryomen offended, offended heâs even trying to talk to you after you must have told him no. âthe fuck?â his jaw tightened, âI donât give a fuck if you donât believe it.â one hand leaves your waist and up to your jaw gripping it, âthis is mine.â pulling you into a kiss, his eyes narrowed at the man behind you, his gaze was something territorial. the man just laughs lightly, holding his hands up in a surrender, he turns around to leave. which you couldnât even tell because you were too focused on your breath literally being taken away, he deepens the kiss, hands roaming you respectfully, you pull away just barely, âis he gone?â voice coming out in a whisper.
he shook his head, kissing you again. he licks into your mouth, catching your bottom lip in the process. his grip around your jaw loosens to cup it instead, his kiss was filled with hunger and he wasnât done eating. his thumb caressed your cheek softly as he leaned into you. a small grunt leaves him, making your breath hitch. everything else felt irrelevant to him. all he cared about was you in this moment. not how the both of you might look in this moment nor how unprofessional this is. but were the both of you ever professional?
you break the kiss, âweâre still at work.â you murmur against his lips and it comes out breathless. he gives your waist an impatient squeeze, he rests his forehead on yours before pulling back. still catching his breath he looks into your eyes, your needy gaze faltering his tough guy demeanor. he clasps his hands over your eyes, âdonât look at me like that..â the smallest smile appears on your lips, sukuna ryomen? flustered?
âsukuna!â he looked up to his name being called, removing his hands from your eyes, you have the smuggest smirk on your face, âhehe..â
he scoffs, rolling his eyes as he turns around to get back to work, but you donât miss the slight blush on his face.
the rest of the night was calm. people flowed in and out with no issues. you did have an issue though, and it resided in your panties. the tension from the bar to your section was lingering. made you wanna spread your legs for him right then and there just so he could watch you please yourself from behind the counter. he wasnât any better, he could tell something was up with you. the way you sat with your legs over each other. he even saw you clench your thighs together something you thought no one else would notice. when your hips swayed to the music when one of your clients asked you to dance, you never left his sight. He paid enough attention to watch you and still do his job at the same time, counting down the time till youâre both off.
back at his place he wasted no time, lifting you up against the wall with ease, you had no time to be shocked when he was shoving his tongue down your throat, moans and low grunts filled the hallway, your legs wrapped around him as he carried you through the apartment, holding you flush against him, your dress rode up your body. curves capturing it perfectly, your body only moved in sync with his even as he set you down on his bed, leaning up to pull his shirt over his head. his chest rising and falling as he leans back on the heel of his foot, his lips parted slightly when he leans down in between your legs, taking a long lingering sniff of your scent, your body jolts at the sudden sensation, he sticks his tongue out flat against you. âwait!â you yelled out, pushing his head away, attempting to close your legs. âdonât do that. itâs dirty..â
âitâs not.â he was in a hurry but heâs going to take his time with you. he spread your legs slowly, âcâmon seriously..â you hid yourself shyly, he leaned down, kissing down the inside of your thigh, kisses getting slower and sloppier the closer he got to you, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down. you bite your nails in anticipation while moving your hips slowly in a hurry.
he tosses them, leaning further into you, he licks from your entrance to your clit, cleaning up your mess and you lift your hips up, rolling them into him. he groans, hands gripping your plush waist, tongue working you so well you couldnât help but buck into him. the sweetest moans leaving your lips the harder he sucks on your clit, âmm..â he moans when your fingers find his hair, back arching towards him, your finish coming up on you fast. he doesnât stop, doesnât slow, just keeps at his steady pace no matter how much you squirm under him. you havenât been with guys whoâve done this for you so the fact he wanted to shocked you, shocked you even more when you realize youâve been missing out.
tears prickle in the corner of your eyes as you cum, looking down at him through your blurred vision with slightly parted lips, your grip on him loosening while he cleans you up. his tongue was burning hot against you. he kissed up your body, sliding the rest of your dress up with him. coming up to pull it over your head, his lips dangerously close to yours, you lean up kissing him and he just melts into it, melts into you.
your body ends up molding perfectly against his, reaching down the small space between your bodies you pull on the waistband of his pants, unbuckling them. ryomen captured and swallowed any moans that left your lips, grinding his hips against yours while you worked his dick out, you lined him up with your entrance, tip sticky and hot. you let out a breathy moan when he pushes in slowly, your chest pressed flush against his. he fucks you slowly, stretching you open with a steady pace, whimpering when he pulls back to roll his hips into yours aggressively. his fingers dig into your sides hard enough to leave a mark, pace picking up in the midst of it all. fucking you like he means it, looking at you with adoration in his eyes, âso fuckinâ beautiful.â
you whine, your hips aching so well after he snaps his into them, hitting that spongy spot inside that makes you feel oh so fuzzy, hitting you so deeply he could see your stomach swell, he knew he found it when your eyes melted into him. he started to breathe heavier, mean thrusts faltering as you tighten around him, the messy pace only fucked you up more. he presses on the swell above your belly button, the hazy feeling making you arch off the mattress.
the sound of your moans dizzied him, deep, guttural groans leaving him as his hips stuttered, pressure building up fast in his lower stomach, ropes of cum filling you up so nicely. the warm sensation made you come hard around him, you squeezed every last drop out of him before he pulled out, his thumb stretching you while he watches his cum flow out of you slowly, the sight of you fucked out so good by him was so satisfying. he leans down, licking away your tears, âyou did so good âf me, baby.â he mutters against your lips.
you whimper softly when he uses the warm rag he got up for a bit ago to clean you up. your eyes barely open when he makes you get up to pee, dozing off on the toilet in one of his plain black tees. ryomen pulls you flush against you when you come back, burrowing his face into your neck and you doze off when he rubs your belly, peppering your neck with slow kisses. the night fading into cozy warmth.
you blink watching his hair fall into his face softly, yours heating up, remembering the night the two of you had, giggling and kicking your feet at it. he groans feeling your feet brush against his, you stop not wanting to wake him up. ryomen was laid flat out on his stomach, his nose scrunching up a bit when you move the hair out of his face. sitting up on your elbows you let out a sneaky snicker, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his cheek. your hairs falling and tickling him, he lets out a small grunt, âwill you lay back down..â voice laced with sleep, â âs too early for this.â you lean back on the bed, bored, you look at the ceiling then back at him. snuggling up against him, you push him over nuzzling your face into his chest, he just grumbles, wrapping his arms around you anyway. despite being a little annoyed youâre moving around so much..
he smiles to himself, happy youâre in his arms.
áľáľ a/n â donât mind me just trying to find a layout i actually like đ.
⎠â âćŚčŚ ⨞ a weed brownie changes everything for riki, where in the back garden of jake's latest house party, he meets you â his latest obsession.
輿ćĺ đ đť .á话č ââ 8.1k
âââexplicit content â smut (mdni)ădom!rikiăsub!readerăheavy mentions of and scenes of recreational drug use (weed)ăcollege/university auămorally grey(ish) charactersămisogynistic themes and language (the portrayal of any characters here does not reflect their real life character)ăcigarette smokingăoral (m. & f. rec)ăoral fixationăvaginal fingeringăunprotected sex (don't do this)ăcreampieăbreeding kinkăcome swallowing (m. & f.)ă(slight) degradation & humiliationădacryphiliaămultiple orgasmsă hung!kiăbulge kinkăoverstimulation (f.rec)ăspit kinkămissionary & mating press positionăpetnames used: angelăbabyăgood girlăpretty thingăprincess.
ââguest appearances by: enhypenăbeomgyu & taehyun (txt). ââł.list
⎠â âäžżćĄ â¨ž hi đ so im back close to 24 hours since my last post. the high of writing again and sharing it called me to cast aside my obligations and i wrote this - genuinely in a matter of hours. i don't know HOW i did that and continue to surprise myself, but i already had some vague idea of stoner!riki being a #munch, so thanks to an ask i got sent, their ideas very much added the context of what happens in this fic. i haven't proofread this in the slightest, so i'll come back and edit but i wanted to share this now because im too excited not to đ thank you so much, hope you enjoy and much loveeeee! <333
Riki didn't care much for parties.Â
Despite how feral he'd get over tequila in his first years of uni, perhaps his taste had matured with time. Graduated to the expensive whiskey his father got him as a reward for going into his last year of uni, shifted from the daze of break-dancing in someone's living room to sitting out back, on plastic white cars passing a blunt between his fingers. He'd dabbled in mostly everything, seeing uni as the lawless and experimental grounds he often laid witness to, which is why he buys his first g of weed in the abandoned park he loved as a child, in the lowlights of a tunnel he had no business being in this late at night. The dealer - a friend of a friend - a uni dropout despite his clientele being mostly uni students gives him a nod before they exchange weed for cash, so casual in nature despite the thrum in his neck.Â
Only when he's scattered away, stuffing the bag so far into his hoodie pocket, it'd bury into the material, can he exhale. Except when he gets to his friend's house, free of rigid parents for the weekend, does he realise he doesn't know the first thing about smoking weed. He assumed it was like smoking a cigarette, which he'd regretfully done at a house party once and threw up strawberry wine on some poor girl's shoes. He didn't inhale right, hacked every time he tried burying the puff of smoke in his lungs and then while his high school friends starfished on the living room carpet, giggling to themselves, Riki sits on the couch, legs folded into himself with his cheek pressed into his knuckles, a bit left out but at least busying himself with the run of Courage the Cowardly Dog on the blaring TV.Â
Now at uni with people at bit more knowledgeable and empathetic, he tries this and that. Gets his high in more ways than unexpectedly good grades, surprising himself and when he tells his flatmate, Jake about the coursework, he grins like some proud father, corners of his lips to his ears as he gives him a hug.Â
"That's my guy," his palm smacks onto Riki's back, hand braced on his shoulder as Jake pulls away, a knowing grin on his face. "I say we celebrate."
"Over some coursework?" Riki's eyebrow quirks. "That's uhm, sweet but no need broski."
"Bro, I'm making brownies. The good kind," Jake nods over his shoulder, the chocolate aroma hitting Riki again, wafting with the current of something unwinding the tension packed in his shoulders. "Hee's finally submitted that CompSci project that's made him a ghost and Sunghoon's got a game he's gonna win. We're celebrating."Â
Riki lets the idea carry his smile, stretching further as he deserts his leather bag on the couch and walks into the kitchen with Jake, timbs echoing against vinyl as they check on the progress of Jake's creation. Riki's fairly acquainted with the various ways of ingesting weed, his Chrome Hearts themed bong bought off Etsy one of his prised possession, but brownies are still his favourite. Quick and easy, his second year dealer an aspiring chef with a knack for desserts, from space cake, lemon pound cake and even tiramisu. The latter his favourite, sweet enough for him to stand and strong enough for him to laugh controllably watching Fantastic Mr. Fox, collapsing over Sunghoon's lap in breathless laughs echoed in the back of his throat.Â
Needless to say, "What the cuss?" became a go-to phrase between the two, unavoidable in first two weeks of life, but still forever present.
Shuffling out his bedroom door, the front door adjacent to it flings open, heavy clattering following as Sunghoon's figure ambles through. He topples over the mess of shoes stationed at the door needing a wash, hands splayed against the narrow hallway walls to stead himself. Riki raises an eyebrow.
"You good?" His head lowers, mirroring Sunghoon's ducked one as he struggles tugging off his sneakers, a dramatic sigh emptying him as they fling off, his flushed face in full view. "You drank already?"
"The guys insisted on a pint after we pummelled Yonsei 7-0, an embarrassing shutout," Sunghoon runs his hands through his sweaty hair, face settling into a lax Riki's happy to see. "But you know, it's never just one and now I'm halfway smashed and I still need to fucking shower,"
He starts departing, clapping a hand over Riki's shoulder with a heavy squeeze as he says ascending the stairs. "If you hear me fall over, just ignore it. Later!"
Riki can only smile at the interaction, shaking his head as he styles his caramel blond strands into something more spiky, finally having time to put effort into his appearance after coursework that literally stole the swag from him. In the mirror, he's the painting of a 2000s punk love interest doomed to his perpetual existence in the mall food court and Hot Topic, baseball long sleeve olive and silver with saggy jagged jeans to match. And soon enough when the lights dim, living room illuminated by disco LED lights and packed with conversating bodies, Riki's dodging drunken spills, reaching into the back of the fridge for Jake's brownies to bring out back, pebbles rubbing together under his shoes as he plots down in the circle of his housemates and a few other friends, a welcome slow in mellow conversation.Â
"I'm pretty sure I'm part whatever they put in Monster because except that and microwave Mac & Cheese, that's all I survived off," smoke blows out Heeseung's lips, some cheap cigarette from the corner shop between his fingers as his body slumps into the plastic chair. His free hand pulls his black beanie downwards, his fringe peeking out still. "You know how down bad I am if I'm a nitty again."
He takes another drag, head tilted up to the sky, moonlight bathing the slopes of his face in shadows and brilliance. Riki watches on quietly.Â
"Well, it's done now. So, do yourself the favour and buy better cigs," Jake chuckles, eyes averting opposite him to Riki. "You brought them out?"
"Yeah, I'm not looking to drink twelve pints tonight," he unwraps the cling wrap over the brownies, rings clinking together as he offers the stacked amount around. "Plus, they're fresh. And hopefully better than the last batch."
Beomgyu, one of Heeseung's friends breaks out into a chuckle, laughing along with his friend who says, "Those were an attempt."
"Hey! It's harder than it looks, okay?" Jake insists, biting into his brownie. "The fuck would youse know about using an oven, much less baking."
"Well, if your aim was to give us diabetes, you were halfway there," Riki laughs, gulping before he takes a bite. Dense but still somehow airy, not too sweet - good on Jake. "Good attempt this time round."
"Thanks Riki, because I really only live for your validation," Jake's eyes roll, amusement on his face meaning the jabs mean nothing as he nods to Haechan. "What you think?"
"Like I won't need a glucometer," he giggles, mouth full with crumbs against his tanned skin. "It's really science if you think about it. I'm glad you learned the errors of your ways."
"If you think you're taking some home â fat chance," the two stick their tongue out at each other, to the sound of Beomgyu moaning, "Just kiss already, I'm close." Jake's laugh only lasts moments before his phone buzzes in his pocket, screen lighting his face. "Oh shit, she's here."
"Who's here?" Riki asks, another bite into his brownie.
"Wonder if she's run into Sunghoon. Lord knows that man is a mess," Jake supplies, neck straining to peek at the backdoor, fingers running through his midnight hair.Â
"Yeah, I haven't seen that man so fucked since St. Pattys - and that was last week," Haechan adds on. "Think he'll make a move?"
"He'll try but she won't have it. He's probably got beer and sick down his shirt anyways," Jake replies, lighting up at the opening back door. He waves his raised hand, more enthused than Haechan's. "Took you fucking ages."
"Sorry, but Sunghoon insisted to talking to me with his sicky breath," a feminine voice echoes from the narrow alley leading to where they're situated, your figure emerging from the shadows. "I had to get him to brush his teeth. He gagged brushing his tongue â pussy."
Cheeks full of chocolate brownie, Riki feels all his weight sink to his feet, body running arctic cold then densely warm at the sight of you. You're so pretty it hurts, sweet in the face with a confidence keeping your shoulders back and head high, the smirk across your face alone very much capable of making him pop a boner. In the silent howls of the night, so much air surrounds them yet makes no effort to make a home in his chest, emptied out with a heart beating only for you, attuned to every move you make.
"Oh, is that a brownie? Fuck yeah," you lean down into Jake's hand holding his, teeth sinking into the dessert with a nonchalance so alarming Riki only can blink, swallowing heavy in his throat. "Hm, that is good. That dealer hasn't left for France yet?"
"Nah, it's my own humble creation," Jake's hand splays over his chest, nodding proudly. "Happy you like it. Kiss for my troubles?"
"My God, this whole house is full of horn dogs," you drag the last plastic chair closest to Riki, ripped leather trousers crying against the material as you settle, sipping on your drink. "Don't tell me you're one of them."
The sentence is directed at Riki, who's still baffled how he's gone three and a quarter years not having seen you once. Not at any party, not at any club, not even walking on campus. Perhaps it's for the best because if he knew you existed, his focus would boil to only you as it does now. Trailing the stack of silver hoops and chains stacking your ears, the dermals under your right eye haloed by dark, unworried makeup, he snake bites settled beneath the plump of your lips with sharp nails and leather clothing plucked from his wildest dreams. Slouched back and manspread, he gets full view of the belly piercing beneath your black vest, a skeleton hanging at the bottom.
Riki might explode.Â
"Riki, you good?" Heeseung asks, blowing smoke with a knowing smirk. Riki can't hide his groan. "Brownies already hitting?"
"Something like that," he only spares his friend a glance, eyes fighting for more time on you, a polite smile on your lips. He hates how quick he is to imagine your lips elsewhere. "We haven't met before."
"We haven't," you confirm, nodding. "I had the misfortune of being in a group with Jake for some workshop a bit ago. I'm only in it for the baked goods."
"Sounds like something totally unrelated." Beomgyu chimes in.
"He wishes," your nose scrunches, laugh contagious in the coy smiles dispensed around the entire group. "Good to meet you, Riki. Your fits seem to live up to the hype."
Riki points to himself, incapable of social interaction. "My fits?"
"Hair's a bit questionable. Bro looks like he got electrocuted." Heeseung jokes, just to wind him up.
"Coming from a man smoking cheapo cigs, I'd pipe down," you retort, eyebrows jerking upwards in a retort that has the guys howling. "It's cool spiked up. A bit out of place, hang on,"
A small, "Can I?" escapes your lips for only his ears to hear, an immediate nod following before your hand with the lightest touch arranges his hair back into place, satisfaction in your grin. "All better. Don't you look handsome."
His blush floods all the way to his ears, not missed by Heeseung who only shakes his head with a chuckle, sending dancing eyebrows and bitten back smirks his way over the background of thumped music inside the house. Itâs so starkly dissimilar to the calmness of the back garden, nothing but conversation and Jake's chill RnB playlist humming out of his phone's speakers. Riki learns all sorts about you that night, lulled by your velvety voice and weed making him float on a cloud. However, what becomes blaring obvious is no matter what anecdotes he learns over the short time you spend outside, something else prevails.
The dire obsession he has over you.
Whatever Riki's dissertation his Sports Science degree is based on takes a backseat in his final year, most of - if not all - his thoughts circling back to you. He experiences the phenomenon of life at university, where you see a person and you either never see them again or see them everywhere. You are the latter. Blooming in places unimportant to him, now significant as he catches glimpses of you. Sees you in the university mail room collecting your guitar pick parcel, sees you on the grassy lawn near the library when the sun's out, cat eye sunglasses perched on your septum-pierced nose, laughing as a kicked football bounces off your sunbathing friend's ass, sees you in said library nodding your head to the Drum & Bass music blasting through your headphones, laser focused on the work you blitz though. He even catches you outside the modern Design school building, giggling as you swap a blunt amongst your friends, not the least bit worried of getting caught.Â
Having access to you like this makes his mind wonder, go to places on fuelled by obsession and it hotwires his system to you. In your mystery black but bright smile, the silver of your jewellery but the warmth of your heart. How in all the moments he thinks he's alone in seeing you, your head turns. Most times you motion him over or simply smile, acknowledging him with an acknowledgement he thinks of all day. His brain doesn't let him forget you, finding every excuse to bring you up in conversation, try your favourite foods, listen to your favourite artists (lots of crossover between his) and justâŚwell, simp over you as Heeseung so lovingly puts it.Â
Riki can protest all he wants, but he knows it to be true. How much he's fallen for how you move through the world like its yours, carving every bit of yourself in spaces he'll never forget, whispering your name in suppressed whimpers as he doesn't let his thoughts venture too far, just the image of you laughing at some poor joke he made or the compliments you so freely give him.Â
And then he's coming. All of his hand, chest and in the swirl of relief and shame, even then his mind cannot banish thoughts of you. You're hard to forget after all.Â
"Is she coming?" Riki asks, always referring to you as he follows Jake down the stairs. The older between the two scampering through to the living room where Sunghoon's left some hockey game playing and into Jake's room, lived in-neat with the scent of sea salt blowing through.
"Man, I don't know. It's like you have a crush on her or something," Jake says absently, sifting through his closet for something to wear. Except when he only hears the scrape of his clothes hangers, rather than Riki's immediate denial, he stops. Looks his friend in the eye, chestnut curls encompassing his surprised face. "What the fuck? You're joking."
Riki could deny it. Save himself the additional teasing, but he's always been a shit liar.Â
"She's cool." He ends up admitting, looking down at his suede sneakers. They need a clean.Â
"Yeah, I bet she is since you beat your meat to her," Jake laughs, pulling out an outfit he's satisfied with - jeans and a brown plaid jacket. "I get it, but you're not the only one. Jay from Psych is acting like she's cast a love spell on him, Sunoo too. Not to mention, Sunghoon's all over her like a rash, soâŚ"
Riki groans, fed up. "Come on, he has options."Â
"And you don't?"
He considers it. Thinks about that girl in his Advanced Sports Biomechanics lecture he's been pining over since they last kissed first year, but quickly got a boyfriend before he could take her to her favourite restaurant. Thinks about the other girl from the library months ago who he suspects likes girls and somehow, he finds peace in it all. Letting go of a past that no longer serves him, that didn't really to begin with and finds you. Nestled into every crevice of his memory and heart.
He's an absolute goner.Â
"She's special," Riki lets it be known, his nape a source of comfort for his scraping nails. "I only want her."
"Aren't you a romantic," Back turned to him, Jake circles back with a baseball cap with a design of unbuttoned jeans. He's stolen that out of Riki's closet, reminding him to lock his door when he leaves for lectures. "Maybe talk to Hoon about it. So we can avoid another shared-girl situation,"
"Unless you're into being a cuck or whatever."
"You signed up for that." Riki states, well aware of that situation.
"Different strokes for different folks, I don't know what you're into," Jake can only shrug, bottom lip jutted out. "Don't think I want to know either. Just talk to the guy so there's no drama."Â
And because Riki's preferences don't line up with Jake's, he makes the trek up the stairs to the attic room, hearing Heeseung yell from his corner room to his right, probably playing LOL. Riki knocks, Sunghoon yelling for him to come in.Â
Up the five stairs, he spirals up into Sunghoon's room, fitting for the so-called 'slut' of their house, the most spacious room out of their four, decently clean with hockey memorabilia scattered all around. He's at his desk to the stairs' right, thick-rimmed glasses on his nose bridge as he actually works on his dissertation, slumping back at Riki's presence.
"Need something?"Â
He avoids his gaze, fingers threading through the hairs down his nape. He'd cut it if it wasn't for you saying how much you wished to see it long.Â
That night he'd dream of you pulling on his hair, head between your legs.Â
"Yeah, I wanted to run something by you," he sits on the edge of Sunghoon's navy blue bedding, legs not having much strength to stand. He chooses to ignore the mystery white stain centimetres from him.Â
"Shoot."
"Well, you know," he then mentions your name, shoving back down the spike in nerves at Sunghoon's small but undeniable grin. "You uhm, like her or something?"
"The fuck's with all the awkwardness?" Sunghoon laughs, nose scrunched up as he folds over. "Yeah, she's cool."
Same words Riki said. He's screwed.
"How much do you like her?" Riki asks, fingers playing with the frayed fabric of his shorts, head all the way down. "Because I mean, there's no shortage of ladies who want you, I just wanted to know so-"
"So you could get a hall pass?"
His question is accented with a disbelieving eyebrow, something like distaste amongst his moled features. Riki's hand smooths over his neck, not sure why he's so nervous about this.Â
"A forever thing - more like," Riki supplies, finding it in himself to start verbalising what he's kept to himself for the past weeks. "I like her, I'd like to take her out if she'd let me."
There's a silence after his words, nothing the house's usual sounds of Heeseung smashing his keyboard and yelling, along with Jake's playlist thrumming through the living room speakers. It's a confession he's known since that fateful night and yet, when said in front of Sunghoon, he isn't quite sure how the words will land.
"Shit Riki," Sunghoon curses, something akin to amusement in his features. He leans back in his office chair, matching grey hoodie and shorts hanging off his large frame. "Should've just said you were serious about the girl. Would've backed off ages ago."Â
"You seemed close," Riki recalls, thinking back to when you physically helped him brush his teeth. The intimacy of the moment lingers in his mind longer than he's liked.Â
"Well, yeah. I've been trying since first year," Sunghoon laughs, not a sliver of embarrassed at being rejected for almost four years. "But she's pretty set on being friends. Even more so lately,"
Recollection pinches his features together, hands smoothing over the five o'clock shadow he almost always has. "Lowkey she might be into you. She's weaved you into conversations loads."
Riki can't quite believe his ears. "Sorry?"
"She has this Pinterest board - I even downloaded that for her - for guy fits she likes, but I think it's just what she'd dress her boyfriend in," Sunghoon supplies, shaking his head. "Anyways, it's like, yours to a tea. So, she wouldn't have to convince you. Plus, she said you're cute. She never compliments guys."
Riki frowns. "Surely that's not true."
"Bro, during my bulk, when I was at like, peak sexiness, she said I looked like I was on roids," Riki swipes a smile off his face, clearing his throat to disguise his laughter. "She also says nice things about Jake, but never his appearance."
"Maybe that's not what matters to her."
Sunghoon rolls his eyes, turning back in his chair. "Here you go, Romeo," he shakes his computer mouse, monitors coming to life. "Maybe that's shit she's charmed for, couldn't be me. But yeah, go ahead. She's all yours."
A flutter kickstarts in Riki's chest, lips folding over each other to somehow hide his elation.Â
"Only mine?'
"Don't push it," Sunghoon warns with a side eye, no real bite to his words. "Close the door behind you, I'm gonna have a tactical jerk before tonight's party."Â
"Right, because you've got chylâ"
"Get out, Riki."
How Riki's found himself in this situation, he'll never know. Nevertheless, if there's a higher being orchestrating this, he'd spend his days praising their existence because there's just no way.
The evening starts off with some nerves, enough for him to desert his dinner cooked by Jake's inability to make one serving. He apologises, saying he had a big lunch but that his leftovers will be tomorrow's lunch, whisking off to their shared downstairs bathroom to start getting ready. While he does put effort into his appearance, this is certainly above the rest, every item of clothing or jewellery picked with precision, hair carefully styled. Heck, he even gives himself a manicure, pushing back his cuticle and making sure his nails are trimmed with no sharp edges. When Heeseung comes into his room to borrow some cologne, they're both startled. Riki sitting on his edge of his bed, in a black bathrobe with green face mask on, nail file putting in work.Â
Heeseung damn nearly topples over in laughter when Riki pushes him out, shutting the door to hear Heeseung yell out. "Holy fuck, Riki's whipped."Â
Perhaps the comedic break does some good to his nerves, but they are very much well and alive once the house party starts, one last night before the Easter break. So, if Riki wants to spend the next four weeks reliving every interaction you've had because he was too scared to get your number, he'd have to put in work tonight.
Usually he has a low amount of drinks before he moves onto weed, but with shaky pupils scanning the living room, he's yet to see you and since his heart can't differentiate between being shot and looking for you, he yields to Sunghoon's request to play beer pong. Sunghoon hard carries their teams against his two teammates, Jungwon and Taehyun, and because Riki can't think straight, he has almost four drinks before he's trudging outside, needing some air and a joint.Â
The usual suspects are outside - Jake, Haechan, Beomgyu, Heeseung and you. He'd missed you, your entrance made in the back alley because Jake said he had hot gossip that couldn't wait. Relief drops him into the chair opposite, a side-eye cast at Heeseung whose purposely positioned himself next to you with Jake on your other side, the dirty look all but gone when you acknowledge him in front of the entire group.
"Was wondering when you'd swing by," something unlabelled lines your lips, pulled in easiness accelerating Riki's heart rate the more he looks at you. The bore of your eyes. "Wanna hit the bong?"
He's too hopeless to speak, settling for a nod and looking back on it, he thinks it's then that seals his fate. How tension unwinds from his rigid shoulders and mellowness makes his lids heavy, makes him so open and funny because despite how comfortable you make others around you, the romantic thought of you makes him hold back. Scared that his attention is all-consuming, a turn-off for a lack of better words. However, his perspective on this situation seems warped at best, a shuffle of seats having you end next to him as their circle go in and out the house. You talk like you're the only ones outside, close and whispered, enough for the hairs on the back of his neck to stand when you lean in further, lips so close to his jugular he's afraid you'll hear the hammer. Know he's into you.Â
"You've got a mole here too," you offer up some space before the poor boy's about to combust, your finger instead resting on the mole. Where you can definitely feel how fast his heart's going. "They're so pretty."
"I've got more down my back," he answers, because he's stupid. And down bad. "Seven, I think."
You lean back in your chair, leg swinging over to hike up your impossibly short skirt dangerously high, slyness pulling your features. "Isn't that a treat."
That's the nail in the coffin. One Riki doesn't hear beyond the desperate gasp of air he does after your reply, eyes quickly averted to Heeseung's prying ones, mouthing a shared, "What the fuck?" Somehow you miss it and talk more and when Riki talks of his Chrome Hearts themed bong, your eyes sparkle. Ask to see it and he lets you, a quiet hand offered to you as he navigates through the warm bodies swaying to thumping music and beelines to his bedroom.
He notices you lock the door behind you. A shy smile offered. "Don't tell me you haven't been locking your door during these parties."
"I'm usually good about it," Riki speaks slower, aided by the relaxation coursing through him.Â
"Good. Because we've had forks stolen during one of ours," you roll your eyes, shrugging off your faux-fur toasted jacket. Hanging it amongst the rack of Riki's coats, fitting in so nicely with his. "Uni students steal anything."
"Tell me about it." He thinks back to the traffic cone Sunghoon had in his bedroom first year, then promptly forgets all about him. About anyone except you.
He shows you the bong, hoping his mind isn't hallucinating how close you are, pretty much doing a Show n' Tell because he doesn't know how to talk about himself. Something he mistakenly utters.Â
"I don't think you realise how personal your room is," you express, perched on the edge of his bed alongside him. Thighs touching, face illuminated by the black candles matching with every colour choice in the room beside deep maroon. "It's got all your memories, everything you've loved. It'sâŚrefreshing,"
Your hand falls over his, fingers threading between the gaps of his fingers, squeezing. "Thank you for showing it to me."
"Of course," his answer comes out in a whisper, muffled by the background noise of streamlining students coming in and out the house. "I feel comfortable with you."Â
Which is a lot more truth he's banked on admitting tonight, but at the sight of your bright smile, he can't hate himself for being vulnerable. On the laptop right in front of them, where his desk is, he gets his Spotify up, putting on a blend at your suggestion. You don't stop holding hands through the entire interaction, more command in his veins as his thumb grazes over your knuckles. Some more talking happens, but it's almost lost in the grand scheme of things when his heavy lids drop down to your lips, wondering how the cold metal of your snakebites would feel, the noises you'd make when he wouldn't rush kissing you like every loser looking just to get some. Savour you like he's wanted to every since he laid eyes on you.Â
The opportunity comes like destiny, over the chorus of Joey Bada$$' 'Y U Don't Love Me?' forever remembered as the moment he kissed you. Colour explodes beyond his closed eyes, a moan releasing at the pillowy press of you, your free hand coming up to cup his face while his other rests around your nape, thumb stroking skin as he loses himself in you. The weed cycling through his system intensifies the moment tenfold, having to hold onto you to assure himself he's tethered to reality, groaning at the cold metal sliding his lips as he captures your bottom lip in a teasing bite. You moan at that, the prettiest sound he's been blessed with hearing and when he's ready to get on his knees to serve you, you beat him to it.Â
"I wanted toâ" Riki starts.
The unbuckle of his belt is striking loud amidst the house party, ringing in his ears as your tongue swipes your bottom lip, teeth left in its wake as you insist. "Later. I want you in my mouth now."Â
And who is he to argue? Especially when every second of this is plucked from the dark corners of his mind, watching with a laboured chest as you button his jeans and from him from his precome-damp boxers, cock springing free.Â
Wonder dazzles in your eyes, a satisfied hum resonating through your chest as your tongue immediately lolls out, swirling all around his flushed tip, ending off with licking the pool of precome in his slit, groaning at the taste. "Fuck, you're huge. Taste good too."
Riki's shoulders drop in defeat, hand coming out to cup your face as he looks at you with agony. "You're gonna be the death of me."
"Don't go dying on me, Riki," you smirk, lowering your plump lips to his cock, hand folded over it, thumb grazing its engorged veins. "You haven't fucked me yet."
Between the weed amplifying his sense and the sin that is you, Riki doesn't anticipate himself lasting long. Especially when you're working him like this, unconcerned with being messy as you cover his length in spit, smeared it into your hands to account for what can't fit into your mouth. You start off so sweet, teasing disguised as you cover his length in adoring kisses, from his balls your hands fiddle with, up his shaft to his tip, leaking by the time you get there. The chuckle you do vibrates into his hot skin, earning a hiss from him as you lap it up with unparalleled enthusiasm, taking him in your mouth.Â
"Fuckkkk,"Â
If his other hand wasn't supporting him sit straight, it would've pulled at his bleached strands, thighs quivering the warm sensation of your mouth enveloping him more and more. Your head bobs as everytime you duck down, you feed more of him in your mouth. So sloppy too, the wet suction and drag eating at the music nonexistent in his ears from his laptop or the living room, ears only catching to the sounds of the gag you do on him, overconfident but not yielding, your throat closing around him to make him whimper.Â
"God, your throat feels so good, baby," the words come so naturally to him, eyes closed in pleasure. "Taking me so well."
Around his length, you mumble, "I'll take more. I want more."Â
He damn near comes right then and there, precome beading down your throat closing around him despite your push to continue. Riki throws his head back, fingers carding through your hair and pulling, not meaning to but spurred on by your moans around him, his cock throbbing in your mouth as you keen, "Harder please,"Â
So sweet to him, he could never say no to you. As your head bobs, your tongue swirls, a groan unearthed from the deepest of Riki's chest as pleasure swirls in his stomach, breaths coming out hard and fast as he tries holding himself back. But you're so good, moving your hand in tandem with your mouth, sucking him like he's the best thing you've put in your mouth and he undoes.Â
"Shit, wait â I'm gonna come," he warns, eyebrows pulled together but it appears to be no concern to you. Gaining confidence and momentum, you push yourself to take more of him, close to your nose grazing his pelvis, gagging hard enough to wet your lashes but everything's secondary to you. Getting Riki to come is everything, which comes to you as you whimper around his length, nails scratching at his hip, over the mole you kissed on your way down his torso and he comes. "Gonna fill yourâhmph!"
He pulls hard at your hair, only adding his orgasm as you squeal around his length, shaking your ass like you'll push into some pressure and it kills Riki, flooding your mouth and not being in you, body curling into himself as his cock reaches where you can only sit there and gag. Once he's blinked enough times for his sight to return, relieved but wanting more, his cock slips from out your mouth, face coming into view as tears streak down your face, so pretty and perfect for him with come edged in the corner of your lips.Â
"Don't swallow."
You're about to wipe the come into your mouth when he says that, curiosity in your expression, morphing into surprise as he pulls you closer into a kiss. The gasp muffles against his plump lips, some of his come already down your throat but enough shared between your mouths as his tongue swipes into your mouth, kissing and tasting every inch of you, you're dizzy. Fawn legged as you collapse back onto the grey carpet, looking up at Riki with saucer eyes as he can do nothing but smirk as his thumb swipes away missed come from the corner of your lips, licked off his thumbpad.Â
"We taste so good together, angel," he smirks, darkness flared in his eyes. "Just like I thought."
Riki thinks he's scared you off.
Perhaps the heat of the moment led him astray and he did that, but he'd been so deprived of your lips on him, he took every chance to have you on him. Including when your mouth was full of come.
When Heeseung hears this the next morning, he sits there with his pink cat-ear headphones with a jaw dropped, appalled. "You're a fucking freak, dude. Or a narcissist. I can't tell the difference here."Â
His words don't inspire much confidence, especially when Riki recalls how after the kiss your phone buzzed, a frantic call coming from your housemate that ultimately ends up with you disappearing into the moonlight, a thousand apologies falling from your lips as you scurry out the door, shouldering people too. On the kitchen stool, house vacant as the rest of guys headed back home for the holidays, Riki runs his hands through his hair, cursing at himself for scaring you when he had you. Plentiful curse words cross his minds, cut off by the blare of his phone lighting up on the kitchen marble counter.
Unknown number: hey, i got your number for jake. sorry for the unexpected text (âĽďšâĽ)
Unknown number:Â my housemate's boyfriend broke up with her and i think we've eaten enough ice cream and egged his house for her to go back home feeling okay. i don't like how i left things, but i at least wanted to explain and apologise before anything. im sorryÂ
Unknown number:Â if you're still around, you're welcome to come round mine or i can come yours. i'd just like to talk things out if you're willing to. i'm really sorry once again <3
Being mad at you hadn't even crossed his mind, but it very clearly crossed yours. And when the realisation settles, he grabs the few things he needs and bolts out the door, on his way to you.Â
You're waiting outside your doorstep for him when he drifts around the corner, air cycling out his lungs as he runs the rest of the way, watching you blink back surprise, only for it muffle against his lips as he crashes onto them, face screwed in all the worry and longing he has for you. Always had for you, body pressed to yours as you melt into his embrace, hands gripping the collar of his jean jacket for dear life as you lose yourself in all things Riki.
Not much talking is done, just a lot of 'miss you's and 'God, you're it for me,' coming from Riki, wrecked when he can have you like this, splayed across your wine and charcoal of your bedspread, shorts and underwear tossed aside, folds glistening with all the arousal swimming your eyes as you cry, "Riki, please,"Â
"Let me, princess. Let me," he whispers breathlessly, so close to your cunt, the warmth of his breath making you shudder. "You're so fucking pretty, baby. Been dreaming of this forever."Â
Speaking like a man tortured, he gives into his dreams, falling into the inevitable as he presses a kiss to your clit before licking a stripe straight from your entrance back to your clit, swallowing it with swirls of his tongue. You keen high in your throat, hands flying to his hair for stability, nails grazing his scalp as his life's purpose is to eat you out, eyes falling shut as he gets off on the withers of your body, the quivers of your breath, each time you whine his name. He catalogues it all â somewhere where his brain isn't present, laser-focused on the slow open mouth kisses he gives your clit, tongue swiping to the chorus of your chorus.Â
"Rikiii," you whine, his eyes finding yours squinted as pleasure blooms across your face in an angelic halo. "Your fingers â hmph! Need them,"
"Anything you want, pretty thing," he mumbles against you, lips glistening in your slick as a two finger trace your entrance, obsessed with the quivers under his fingertips while he noses along your pelvis bone, swirling his tongue with the right pressure to chase after your incoming orgasm. "Just ask me, I'm all yours."
The impatient whines dye his ears red, eased by helpless whines as his arm extends to your chest, pushing up the flimsy material of your tank top to play with your pebbled nipples, thighs closing around his head. He doesn't care, the close proximity only gets him harder as his fingers push into your crying walls, closing in on him with everything you have.Â
Your fingers pull harder on his hair, a groan stifled against your clit as his fingers curls in you, a croak in your throat echoed as the sensation ripples through your sizzling body.Â
"You're so pretty when you don't know what to do with yourself," he chuckles, a harder curl of his fingers bringing a stretched groan out your bared teeth. "Feel good, baby?"
"I-I can't think," you admit, cheeks flushed and expression dazed, eyes trying to find his. "Just want you, Riki. Want all of you."
"You'll get me, princess. Let me eat you out first," he speaks with a husk, only aiding the tension-filled coil pulling in your stomach. "You taste so good, baby. I'd spend all day here if I could."
And to an extent, he does. He's so attuned to what you like, how much pressure, how much suction that it's not long before desperate gasps for air swallow the room whole, eating at the wet mess sound Riki makes between your thighs. Again, it's all secondary to the hurtle into space your body does, a cross between cries, begs and screams running out your lips as you chant his name, coming and coming. The burst of ecstasy is unlike anything you've ever felt before, body mirroring the free float you do in between someplace between time and space, body raking through with shakes Riki only feeds off, maintaining the curl of his fingers as they pump into you without restraint, tongue migrating down around his fingers to taste every drop of your come. It's the kind of fixation you couldn't concoct in your wildest dreams, everything a mere mirage as your body just takes whatever Riki gives, sucking your clit and fingering you until you're shivering from overstimulation, bedsheets wet beneath your butt as you struggle for air.Â
Riki is nice enough to allow you the time between when he removes his mouth off your cunt to pressing your lips again for you to breathe, whining against your lips as his tongue darts into your mouth, your head tipped back as your syrupy head lives off the taste of you two mixed, getting every bit of obsession of you two together.Â
"Don't we taste so good together?" he'd asked and even then, you agreed. More so now that with the bloom of softness and intimacy between you, fingers curled in his strands as he rids himself of his pesky clothes, not having the heart to separate your lips as you help get rid of his trousers and boxers.Â
When he does, you do like you did back then in his room, fingers tracing the tattoo on his ribcage with a hungry fever, a kiss pressed into the kiss mark just near his hip before your teeth sink into the mole on the other hip. You're feral, one-track minded as Riki consumes all your thoughts, back pushed back down into the plush of your mattress as your legs spread, head lifted to view him hold his hard cock in his hand, tip weeping as his body folds with desperation, tip smearing your folds with precome.Â
"Tell me you want it," Riki gruffs out, eyebrows knitted with parted lips. "Beg me to fuck you."
"Riki, please fuck me," impatience and frustration extend every letter of your plea, similar tears lining your eyes as your hand lowers to spread your folds, enticing him by the bite of his lips. "Your cock would feel so good in me. Am I not yours?"
"Fuck, you are." He says immediately.
"Then make me yours."
It's all he needs to hear, having had enough of his own games before he pushes in, both your mouths falling open at the stretch of him gliding in, your walls gripping him with all the hunger you have for him and more. The molten burn curls your toes and grits your teeth, feeling Riki everywhere accessible to your senses, breath stunted by the fill of him as he feeds himself until he's buried to the hilt, rewriting any concept you know of pleasure to him.Â
He stalls in you, chest rising and falling as all his eyes consume is you, your body beneath him, cunt stuffed with his twitching length, cheeks dusted in pink with a body quivering to the size of him, pupils blown to your eye colour serving as a ring around them, so gone for him he doesn't know how he maintains his composure. Just strokes hair out your face with the back of his fingers before he starts thrusting.
He doesn't start off slow, fast-forwarding to the moment he's pondered when alone and everything about this doesn't compare. Not in the slightest, the warmth of your skin, the squeeze of your cunt, the cries you do as your stomach pulls in overload, nails scraping at the duvet cover with forgotten restraint. Everything about this, he will never get over, refuses to and with the look you give him, he thinks you share the sentiment.Â
He notches himself harder into you, groaning at the high keen you do as your eyes roll back, blinking tears away as you cry. "Kisses, Riki."
"You're so fucked out, I've barely done anything, princess," he purrs, a carnal feeling conjured in his chest as he lowers himself down to you, safety-pin pendant on his chain feeding into your mouth as you suck on it. "Your mouth's lonely, huh baby? Need to keep it stuffed, don't I?"
You nod around the pendant, all teary and doll eyed at him, gasping for air as you let it go, finger curling around it to pull him closer. "Kiss me."Â
"Manners."
"Pleaseeeee!" it comes out so rushed, so pathetic you can't quite believe the voice belongs to you, so high you only seek what you want. And what you want is him. "Pretty please, need you. Need your lips, want it so bad, 'Ki."
"Open your mouth."Â
All commands come out with such authority your body always falls into compliance, lips parted as spit lands at the back of your tongue, at the back of your tongue. Your mouth closes to taste him, whimpering at the taste. "Again, again. Please,"
"You're so greedy, baby," he replies, voice frayed by the grip of your cunt, smacking bodies bouncing off your cluttered walls. "It's okay, I want you too. Need you always."
He gives in, jaw unhinged under a dominating hand that keeps your mouth open for his spit, the force of its landing closing your eyes and contracting your body, a squeal muffled to your closed lips before his lips find them, kissing you like a man possessed. Kissing and tasting everywhere, making sure to fuck you through it all, nails scraping down his shoulder blades and back as he hits your sweet spot again and again.Â
You could cry. You do, stray tears escaping the squeeze of your eyes, their trail licked by Riki as he separates from you, sharing breaths with his forehead against yours before he leaves altogether, firm hand pressing into the bulge peeking through as he thrusts in, a whimper out your lips.Â
"Rikiiii," you moan, so lost. "So good. You fuck me soângh, so good."
"I do, don't I, princess?" he muses, composure fraying further as he feels his tip against his palm. "You're close, can feel you clenching for me,"
"You gonna be my good girl and come on my cock?"
The coil in your stomach is so impossibly tight, you don't know much more you can take, frantic breaths choked back sobs as you swipe tears out your eyes, looking at him despite the fact. "Yes. I'll be your good girl, best girl. I'm gonna come."
"Who's making you come, baby?" he asks, his husky voice all around you, your legs pushed to your chest as he leans his bodyweight into you. You cry. "Tell me."
"You, Riki. You!" you sob, stumped by your intercepted breath as he pushes further into you, face so close that your lips brush as you whine. "You're gonna make me come."
The coil snaps, everything coming afterwards. The cry of your lungs, the suspension of your breath and the dismantling of your body, so malleable to Riki's whims you accept him whole, hold his face as he ruts into the last few times, whispering words that make you clench around him.Â
"God, you're milking me princess," he whimpers, eyebrows screwed tight. "Gonna keep you nice and stuffed. You want it, don't you?"
You do, a chorus of agreements and kisses peppering his face as he shatters in your hold, burying himself deepest in you as he convulses, swallowing the room in his drawn out moans and curses as he gives a few half-hearted ruts before collapsing onto you, going soft in you as he keeps you plugged.Â
"You're everything I want," he confesses, pink in his cheeks and tip of his nose as he caresses hair out your hair, easing off you. "Tell me you're mine, that I can take you out."
Merriment flutters in your chest, producing the giggle you do as you cast hair behind his ear, loving the overgrown look of his bleached hair. "Took you long enough."Â
He smiles, the boxy kind that makes your heart soar before he giggles, kissing you with everything between the two of you, together as one.Â
thank you for reading! â¸(ď˝ĄË áľ Ë )â¸âĄ
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Having worked together for years, you and Jungkook know exactly how to play your roles, going undercover as a married couple. But thatâs until the act stops feeling like one.
PAIRING: detective!jk x detective!reader
GENRE: smut with a lot of plot
WORD COUNT: 8k
WARNINGS: some undercover crime solving, sexy&intelligent gone wrong, idrk whatâs going on tbh, jkâs secretly a yearner, alcohol, elites being illegal like always, brief mentions of money laundering, gambling&blackmailing, theyâre at an underground club, smut wise: exhibitionism (it justâŚkeeps happening), dirty talk, oral (f recieving), hair pulling, he bends her over ofc, some more probably
NOTES: surprise! 2.0âs mv randomly inspired me to write this and it was supposed to be posted by friday but uh mark happened. this turned out to have so much more plot than i planned but it kinda just flowed that way. also lmk if youâd like a part 2!! enjoy <3
¡ ¡ â ¡âśÂˇ â ¡ ¡
Rain settles over London as if itâs seeking ownership.
Because in theory, rain does own the city of London, in its own, inscrutable way. It clings onto everything. From the glass windows of the club that are covered in a way that screams guilty, the stone railing thatâs a little too romantic for a place like this, to your collarbones that stay exposed through the thick fabric of your coatâ everything is decorated with small droplets of rain, creating a measured disorder thatâs still stubborn enough not to leave no matter how hard you try to shake it off.
By the time the car pulls to a stop, it paints a black, sleek shadow beneath the streetlights. The street already looks polished; like itâs somewhere you donât find yourself in unless itâs absolutely intentional, unless youâre assigned to be here, unless you have a purpose.
You watch it through the window for a little more than necessary, because every detail matters. You take notes of the grand spacing between the arrivals, the lack of hesitation at the entrance, the high chins and dark eyes of the men and women that are too powerful to face any consequences; every single one of these people belong here.
The driver opens the door of the backseat before you have time to even reach for the handle, blinking twice before stepping out to force confidence into your body. You move with ease, like youâve practiced this a hundred times before, because you have. Because every ounce of authority in you is backed with years of practice.
Jungkook follows you a breath later, taking two large steps to claim his place right next to you, offering out an arm for you to hold onto. As he adjusts the black coat on his body, you slip your hand into the crook of his arm, fingers wrapping around his bicep.
The rain immediately catches in your hair, then the fabric on your shoulders, and then the exposed line of your collarbones. Jungkook opens the umbrella in his free hand before your blowout has time to budge out of place, holding it over your head without asking.
âDonât scan too hard.â Jungkook says slowly, voice low enough to disappear beneath the crowd.
âDonât teach me my job.â You mutter under your breath, eyes focused on the street instead of him.
Jungkook huffs out something between a breath and a laugh. âIâm not.â He says, adjusting the umbrella slightly, angling it so that it shields you more than himself. âIâm reminding you of it.â
You roll your eyes. âDonât forget what role youâre playing.â
He scoffs, but the corners of his mouth tilt despite himself. His posture shifts subtly, just enough to close the little space left between your bodies, like heâd been waiting for the cue.
âPlease.â He huffs out, arm slipping out of yours to find your waist. His hand settles exactly where your waist curves inwards, wrapping around like itâs muscle memory. You straighten your posture at his touch, your shoulder brushing against his chest with each step you take.
Right ahead of you, the gravity around the entrance is so heavy itâs already pulling you in, before you can even acknowledge the warm coloured light painting the corners of the front door.
Jungkook leans into you, mouth grazing over your ear lightly, yet enough to let chills trail down your spine. âCamera over the left column.â He murmurs without looking, eyes flicking above the door so quickly even you almost donât catch it. âWide angle.â He continues.
âMhm.â You hum in response, a sweet yet calculated smile playing on your lips despite yourself. You place your right hand on top of his, intertwining your fingers where they sit on your waist. You pull him just a little closer to adjust your pace, slowing him down enough to fall in line with the queue of people ahead.
Up close, everything feels even more premeditated. The lighting frames the edges around the doorway instead of spilling naturally, catching in the marble in a golden hue. Two men are standing at the entrance, eyes scanning through until there isnât an inch thatâs not tainted by their gaze. Theyâre both in sleek black suits, dressed exactly the same as the white button-up underneath their jackets pick up the light in a way thatâs too bright for a night like this.
âGood evening.â One of the men says when the two of you approach further. You donât slow down, reaching the threshold arm in arm.
âNames?â He asks, eyes flicking between you and the list in his hand.
Jungkook doesnât hesitate before speaking, filling in the silence half a second later. âCharles and Clara Beaumont.â
The manâs eyes linger on you for a second longer this time, scanning through the list as he matches and confirms whatever he has to.
âOf course.â He says after a beat, moving to the side just enough to offer you space to step inside. Jungkookâs hand finds the small of your back, settling in a way that grounds you, sending warmth through your body, even over the fabric of your coat.
You donât react outwardly, not in a way that lets him know, but you do feel his touch. The inch of contact, every degree of pressure, the way it anchors you just enough to look realâ feel real.
âStay close.â He murmurs, and the door opens.
You think youâve never entered a place more unwelcoming than whatever this is.
âLetâs not waste time.â Director Kang had said, leaning onto the table thatâs placed in the middle of the meeting room as he pressed a few buttons on the control in his hand until the screen flickered to life.
A face appeared; a man with a controlled smile, a sharp navy suit, and the kind of confidence thatâs effortless without needing any practice, because it had been perfected years ago.
Hugo Vane.
You already knew the name, Jungkook already knew the name, but knowing from afar and seeing are different things.
âPublicly,â Kang started, the pacing of his words measured yet nowhere near slow. âOne of the most successful private investors across Europe. Real estate, insurance, hospitality. Heâs in it all, has been called âtransformationalâ way too many times.â
Jungkook let out a quiet breath through his nose, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. âOf course.â
âOver the last ten years, heâs built a network of high end venues across Europeâ almost half in Englandâ that function as fronts for illegal gambling, money laundering, controlled blackmail; all of it tied to names you would never expectâ He breathed.
âWhatâs crucial is, everything is recorded. Debts, favors, leverage; we can get our hands on everything. This opening in London isnât a random celebration, itâs a consolidation point. Real transactions will happen in the private rooms, so the main floor is useless. Your objective is simple, get inside one of those rooms, doesnât matter which for now. We need confirmation of what happens in there. But most importantly, we need access, we need to track every breath they take.â Kang paused, exhaling through his nose.
âThis man might have blood on his hands.â
After letting the words settle in the room, Jungkook tilted his head, swinging left and right in his chair. âAnd weâre just walking into that?â He asked.
Kang inhaled. âYouâre not just walking into it.â He said, eyes flicking between the two of you before switching onto the next slide.
Two photos of a couple flashed across the screen, attractive and well dressed in the same old way people with generational wealth are.
âCharles and Clara Beaumont,â Kang explained. âMarried for six years, currently in Nice, unlikely to make it.â
Jungkookâs mouth curved into a lazy grin. âSo weâre them.â
âYou are.â
âSix years?â You added a beat later, head tilting slightly.
Jungkook leaned back in his chair, arm resting along the backrest. âWonât take much time to look convincing.â He said, a small smirk on his face as his gaze flicked over to you.
âGotta play your part well, Jeon.â You said, tone disinterested as your eyes still focused on the picture on the screen like it would tell you something if you stared hard enough.
A small smirk played out on his lips, cocky in a way that grew you eager to slap it off his face. âOh, I won't be playing.â
You rolled your eyes, huffing out a short scoff. You didnât respond to him further as your grip tightened around your pen, squinting your eyes at the man on the screen. âBackgrounds? Anything we shouldnât look past?â You asked.
Kang nodded slowly. âEverything will be provided by tomorrow morning, study them before you fly out.â
He stepped away from the table, standing right in the middle of the two of you, hands on both your shoulders like heâs warning you. âYou will not draw attention, and you will not break cover. Find the confirmation we need and leave before anyone suspects anything. Play safe this time, weâll see what comes next when you fly back.â
âWhat if we get access to the recordings?â Jungkook asked.
âGreat, but donât compromise the mission for it. Like I said, play safe for now.â Kang said, Jungkook nodded once in response.
You crossed your arms over your chest, biting the corner of your lips. âWhat about surveillance?â
âEverywhere. Which means whatever you do,â Kang answered until Jungkook cut him off, leaning forward, settling his elbows on the table. âWe have to sell it.â
Kang lookwd at him. âYes.â
â--Champagne?â The server asks, cutting through the memory with a sharp edge. You blink once, letting the room fold back into place with no more than a subtle shiver. So subtle that even Jungkook almost misses it despite being so close to you, to the point where you can feel each otherâs pulses thudding under your skin.Â
Your body retakes everything all at once; the gold light, murmur of voices that let out no more than a few low chuckles, the weight of Jungkookâs hand still resting around your waist like it never left.
Something almost flutters in your chest.Â
You reach for the tray, taking a glass without any hesitation. âThank you.âÂ
Jungkook takes one a second later, body moving slower than yours. Because his attention is already completely elsewhere, eyes scanning through the crowd until they settle, digging silent holes into the nape of a certain someoneâs neck.Â
âRight side.â Jungkook murmurs when the server disappears, eyes still stuck on the said man.Â
But you donât turn around, now having years of experience in the job. Your hands reach for your purse, grabbing a hold of lipstick and a mirror. You drop the cap of the lipstick into your purse before opening the mirror with one hand, reapplying your lipstick as your eyes scan around the whole venue through the small mirror.Â
You take half a step to your left before he comes into your sight. Dark eyes, sharp jawline, navy suit tailored to fit his body without a single crease, exactly like Hugo Vane.
But younger.Â
âHugoâs son.â You answer quietly, eyes on the mirror as you pat the lipstick lightly onto your lips. Jungkookâs eyes flick towards you for a beat, towards your lips. It lasts shorter than a second, maybe less than half a second, but it does happen. And you notice.Â
Jungkook hums, grip tightening on your waist. âThought so.âÂ
The man moves through the room without stopping, like he doesnât need to, because itâs being cleared for him before he can have the time to complain. Itâs not obvious, there is no dramatic space as he steps through, but there is a quiet shift in peopleâs demeanour. The way conversations pause just enough, the way bodies angle themselves just slightly, the way the room bends and molds around him and not the way around.Â
You try not to drown in the space he leaves behind, because it doesnât settle, it knocks your breath out in a way you donât know how to explain. You donât get anxious oftenâ no, you never get anxious. But something about the way he silently grabbed the room and bent it without anyone noticing causes something unsettling to form somewhere in your stomach.Â
How he moves is enough to tell you heâs not just wandering, heâs leading something. You donât follow him immediately, letting the time stretch and the distance breathe. But Jungkook does still for a second, hand dropping from your waist until it wraps somewhere between your wrist and hand.Â
Your eyes briefly flick over to the hall he disappears behind, watching the way the door swings back and forth ever so subtly. Of course, Jungkook notices your stare, eyes following the direction of your gaze.Â
âThatâs our way in.â He says, his hand holding yours properly now.Â
âThatâs not a way in.â You mutter through your teeth. âThatâs access we donât have.âÂ
He shifts his body slightly, adjusting you along with him so that youâre angled the opposite way. âThatâs access we will have.âÂ
He pulls you fully now, your face almost crashing into his back as he moves without a warning. Jungkook walks fast as you trail behind, taking steps that are short, yet as swift as the height of your heels allow.
When youâre halfway through the corridor, Jungkook pulls you closer into him. But itâs different to the closeness youâve been maintaining so far. This time, you feel his cologne filling up your nostrils every time he shifts, the way his chest rises and falls whenever he breathes. This time, he pulls you so close that turning your head means something you donât want to say out loud.Â
So you donât.Â
âSomeoneâs watching.â He says into your ear, voice barely above a whisper.
âI know.â You reply, back pressed into his. Of course you know, because someone has been watching. Someone has been watching you for so long that the feeling of it transitions into a pattern, the kind you notice even when you try not to. Here, people donât scan, neither do they hold your gaze; but they do reappear. You swear you see the same people all at the same places at the same times; like theyâre circling around certain spots ith purpose rather than simply attending an opening.
âGood.â Jungkook says before turning you around, thumb pressing lightly against your wrist. Maybe itâs a cue, maybe itâs a warning, you have no idea which. Because thereâs no time for you to figure it out, because Jungkook leans in when you expect it the least.
Heâs so much closer than necessary, closer than professional, and the way your body reacts is just asâ maybe even moreâ unprofessional.Â
His voice drops by an octave, words escaping his lips before they disappears somewhere on your skin. âThen letâs give them something to look at.âÂ
He pulls your body closer into his by your hands, hooking them around his neck before he lets his hands drop down to your waist. You take notice of how slow they move, because they donât really drop down, they slide.
It feels intentional, like heâs actually caressing your body with care instead of putting on a show. Your breath catches before you can stop yourself. And even though
you get it together quickly, Jungkook notices.Â
âRelax.â He says, forehead pressing against yours, his breath hot against your skin.Â
âI am relaxed, but youâre overdoing it.â You say, hands settling where he put them.Â
âNo, youâre underdoing it.â Your jaw tightens at the words, and you almost roll your eyes. Almost, because right now, you definitely have way too much attention on you to slip even a little.Â
So despite your words, your hands move. They scratch the nape of his neck before disappearing in his hair, fingers curling lightly until theyâre tangled inside.Â
âYour left,â You whisper against his mouth. âSame man, still watching.âÂ
âMhm.â He hums. âLet him.â But his eyes are already closed, body leaning even more into yours as if there is any space left. Your hands drop from his hair to his shoulders, and before you know it, Jungkookâs lips are on yours.Â
It takes you a second to shake yourself out of the shock, letting yourself melt into the kiss as his soft lips move on yours with ease, like they belong there, like this is normal for you to do. Your eyes flutter shut, hands roaming all around his shoulders. You flinch when he gives your ass a squeeze, sending a tingle through your legs.Â
One of his hands raises up until it reaches your face, cupping your cheek as his thumb trails softly along your jaw. He forces your mouth open with his thumb, pulling down your bottom lip slowly, and you grant him access without thinking.Â
A small moan escapes your lips when his tongue slides into your mouth, and Jungkook swears his pants are going to rip right on spot if you keep sounding like that. He feels something fluttering in his chest, something he knows he has been suppressing for a long time now. So he just pulls you closer, and lets his mind drift away from anything and everything for just second, focusing on you only.Â
Until someone clears their throat.Â
âMr. and MrsââÂ
Your whole body stills, unable to move even an inch. But thatâs fine, because couples like this donât break apart for interruptions. Jungkook lets his teeth pull onto your bottom lip for one last time before breaking apart, slow enough so that you can gather yourself.Â
He does pull away, but his hand doesnât leave your waist. And for a split second, he doesnât even turn his head.Â
â--Beaumont.â The staff continues.Â
Both of you shift your gazes towards him, acting completely calm and unbothered. âYes?â Jungkook asks politely, brows raised only slightly.Â
The man gives you a measured smile. âMr. Vane is a man of discretion.âÂ
TouchĂŠ
âIf you would like somewhere more private,â He continues, gesturing subtly towards a door somewhere along the corridor. âWe can accommodate you.âÂ
There it is.Â
Though, you donât answer immediately, letting the question rest for a second or two in order to make it feel real. Not eager, not hesitant, but rather like itâs something youâre used to.Â
Jungkook glances down at you, offering a look thatâs not really asking, because he already knows the answer. Just something thatâs checking, something that lets him know everything is fine. You tilt your head slightly, the corner of your mouth lifting just enough so that Jungkook notices, yet the man doesnât.Â
He turns his head towards the man. âOf course.âÂ
The man steps aside, letting the corridor fall open and twist into something darker. Jungkookâs hand shifts at your waist, guiding you through the hall. And this time, you just let yourself melt into the comfort of his presence. Because resistance doesnât really mean anything anymore. Because you know that somewhere along your performance, something slipped. The control, the actingâ whatever you call it. Whatâs important is that neither of you really acknowledged it.Â
The door closes behind you softly, a sound thatâs too little for a door this heavy. It doesnât really echo, doesnât physically linger either. But still, for a second, you canât find it in yourself to move. You donât have to look at Jungkook to know he hasnât either, you can feel it in the way the air shifts around him. His legs donât carry him anywhere when the door clicks shut, eyes roaming around the room as the rest of his body stays still.
The room is quieter than you expect it to be. Itâs not empty, not silent; thereâs music humming faintly from somewhere behind, walls filtering out the bass until it nearly doesnât even reach your ears. But somehow, you still feel it thudding under your ribs, hard and heavy until it stings somewhere you canât quite reach.Â
But everything feels more uncomfortable than you imagined, because even in a room as private as this one, there is intention behind every little detail. The deep brown of the leather couch, the two untouched glasses on the table already filled with whiskey too bitter for your taste, the light thatâs even dimmer, even warmer compared to the outsideâ everything is arranged like they expect you to sit, to drink, to stay.
To forget.Â
When you take a step forward, heels sinking into the carpet, Jungkookâs hand doesnât leave your waist.Â
If anything, it settles deeper.Â
Jungkook shifts his weight from one leg to the other, his chest pressing closer into your back as he leans in slightly, just enough for his mouth to brush your ear. âTwo cameras.â He whispers. âOne above the mirror, one across the wall.âÂ
You donât look, because you never do, because you never have to when itâs Jungkook who warns you. Instead, your hand moves to your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear as your gaze drifts lazily across the room, a little relieved that youâre finally where youâre supposed to be, doing what youâre supposed to do.Â
Your fingers graze the edges of the mirror on the wall, mentally taking a note on how something is off about it, in a way you canât exactly point a finger on. The frame feels too smooth on your skin, too flat for something thatâs embroidered romantically.Â
Your reflection stares back at you the same way it always does. Hair perfect, posture straight, lipstick faintly smudged because of the kiss you just shared; itâs completely untouched.Â
But something is still off. The angle is wrong, your frame is slightly delayed, the glass is too clean that itâs suspicious. And finally, as your fingers keep grazing around the edges in hopes of finding something worth pocketing, something red winks at you.Â
âTheyâre recording.â You say, voice breathy, almost distracted.Â
His hand leaves your waist for the first time since you walked in, stepping aside to take everything in properly. His absence hits you immediately, skin turning cold beneath the fabric on your body without the warmth of his touch. You try to ignore the feeling, you really do, but it lingers somewhere between the light chill of the room, and your pulse thatâs now a little loud. Too loud that you feel it thud in your ears.Â
But suddenly, something louder than the hard pulsing of rhythms fly in from behind. It doesnât come from the hallwayâ no, itâs deeper than that. The voices are muffled, the words are whispered discreetly and are chosen with care; private enough to pull a tight knot in your stomach.Â
You still without realizing, eyes widening only slightly as your hands rub themselves onto the sides of your coat. Jungkook notices it immediately, eyes shifting onto you before he lets his hand find yours. His fingers slip between yours, gliding with ease as if this is the most natural thing for you to do. His hold grounds you. You have no idea how or why, but it does, and your grip tightens around his beneath awareness.Â
Jungkook had never been easy to read.Â
Youâve shared way too many long flights, way too many late night debriefs. Yes, he was a little too flirty sometimes. And yes, you were aware of his attraction towards you. But you never thought it was anything near serious. At the end of the day, you were just coworkers who, in reality, couldnât even properly get along.
Despite his cocky and flirty persona, Jungkook isn't a careless man. He never lets something slip before weighing it over and over again, never lets something mean too much.
You always thought it meant nothing to him, that he was just acting a certain way to get on your nerves, that this was just the kind of person he is.
Oh boy were you wrong.Â
âWall behind the couch.â You say, gesturing towards where the voices are coming from. Jungkook turns slightly, angling his body just enough to follow the line of your sight without making it obvious.Â
Thereâs a panel there, a seamless way that leans into another room, almost invisible even to you despite how carefully youâre looking for it. Somewhere between a breath and a flick of your eyes, Jungkook moves. His body works around yours swiftly, turning you before you can process it, pressing your back into the wall you had just been gesturing at.Â
Your breath catches, more from the sudden closure than anything else, your hands instinctively finding his chest as he closes the distance between you. The room, the air, even voices; everything feels smaller like this. Like itâs just the two of you and no one else who are existing in this space.Â
âWhat are you doing?â You ask under your breath, but it doesnât land the way it usually does. Because heâs already closer than whatâs professional, closer than whatâs safe.Â
Jungkook lifts his index finger, placing it on top for your lips. âShh.â He shushes you, brows raised slightly.Â
A voice filters in, dark and hoarse. â...this wasnât part of what we shook hands on.âÂ
Something shifts on the other side of the wall, distorted in a way that doesnât allow you to hear everything properly. âWe can make a few adjustments.â Another man answers, his tone noticeably calmer.Â
âHugoâs son.â Jungkook whispers, his eyes staring right into yours.Â
You grab his hand, pushing it off your face with a huff. âWhat even is his name?â You ask, face scrunched in confusion at the sudden realization.Â
Jungkook shrugs, letting the voices of the two men fill in the room. âThatâs not how your father cooperates.â
âMy father isnât here tonight.âÂ
Your breath stills, wide eyes lifting up to catch Jungkookâs, filled with unease.Â
How the fuck is Hugo not here?Â
That throws everything off. Because Hugo Vane not being here doesnât feel like an absence, it makes you feel his presence even more, settling under your bones with an ache you donât like. Because if Hugo isnât here, because if he didnât even bother getting out of his way to come here, this isnât just an opening that covers a few illegal exchanges. Itâs something else entirely, something that has been in motion for a lot longer than you knew of.Â
And whatever you walked into tonight is bigger than the room youâre standing in.Â
The other man starts. âIf anything goes wrongââÂ
âIt wonât.â Hugoâs son cuts him off, voice steady like itâs forcing everything into exactly where he wants.. Thereâs a pause, a beat filled with silence before he continues. âEverything is already in place.â
The words sound like a trap.Â
When your eyes flick back to Jungkook, you realize heâs already looking at you, eyes a little too empty to your liking. He looks like heâs thinking about nothing and everything at the same time. So you lift your hand, shoving his chest lightly to recollect his attention.Â
âJungkook, focus.â You murmur through your teeth.Â
But he doesnât react immediately, not properly at least, because his hand is still holding yours, his arm is still around your waist. And instead of loosening his hold or giving you space to breathe, his grip tightens, fingers curling around you like heâs trying to ground the two of you at the same time.
Then, his hand moves. Not away, of course not. It shifts from your waist, sliding down to your hips. Though the movement is slow, like heâs giving himself time to stop, to pull back into whatever control he has been holding onto all night.Â
And you canât find it in you to move.Â
âTheyâre watching.â He says quietly, thumb grazing circles on your hip.Â
Thereâs no fucking way heâs doing that as performance.Â
âI know.â You respond, eyes stuck on his like theyâll bleed into blindness if you tear them away. Your voice is softer now, breathy in a way that makes Jungkook lose his mind, not that heâd ever tell you.Â
But right now, you too know that something shifted, that this doesnât feel like just a show anymore.Â
Jungkook exhales through his nose, slow and rough, closing his eyes along with the breath he lets out. âIâve been trying not to do this.â He starts, taking a step closer as if itâs possible. âBut youâre making it so fucking hard.âÂ
For a second, you consider pretending to not understand what he means, almost tilting your head with oblivious eyes. But halfway, you decide against it, sharply inhaling the breath he just exhaled.Â
But the space between you is too littleâ no, it doesnât even exist anymore. The room feels smaller, the air feels thicker, and the muffled voices of the two men disappear completely behind the wall when he lets his body lean a little more into yours.Â
At your lack of response, Jungkook lifts the hem of your coat, giving your ass a squeeze above the thin fabric of your dress. You moan involuntarily, head falling back until it hits the hard wall behind you, a little harsher than you wouldâve guessed.Â
âTell me to stop now.â He says, voice low in a way thatâs barely above a whisper. âBecause I wonât.âÂ
You crash your lips into his.Â
Maybe itâs the adrenaline, maybe itâs the walls, or maybe the fact that youâre being watched and still choosing this anyway.Â
Or maybe, itâs just him.Â
You donât know, you canât even think straight right now. Because the second your lips meet his, everything else collapses into a haze, way too easily. You lose your last remaining hold on everything youâve been trying to build since even before you stepped out of the car tonight. The mission, Hugo, his son, anything and everything thatâs currently going on behind the wall, even the cameras youâre fully aware ofâ they all blur into something distant.Â
Youâll deal with those later.Â
A swift feeling of surprise takes over Jungkook when itâs you who breaks the tension first, but he melts into the kiss without giving you time to recalibrate your actions. Your hands settle on his shoulders, fiddling with the thick fabric of his coat before slipping it down his shoulders, letting it fall onto the floor. Once itâs off, your hands move quickly on his dress shirt, unbuttoning it eagerly.Â
Jungkook lets out a groan at your touch, because he feels whatâs underneath it immediately. The way you stop hesitating and start pulling him instead, the way your hands grip his shirt like you mean it, like youâre not just letting this happen.
Youâre choosing this.
Thatâs what knocks the air out of his lungs more than anything else tonight. Because just hours ago, he was ready for resistance, he was ready for control, he has been doing it for years. Acting like youâre nothing more than occasional partners who donât even get along for
the most part. He was ready for you to push him away if he went too far with the role, if he played it a little too well. He was ready to stop if you wanted to.Â
But he wasnât ready for this.Â
He wasnât ready for you, for your lips to meet, rid of any ounce of hesitation, like youâve been wanting this too.Â
He squeezes your ass again, with both hands this time, needing to feel every inch of your body. His eyes flutter uncontrollably when you let out another dreamy moan, something that sounds like an angelic melody to his ears. He pulls you closer by the hips, then thrusts his own to meet you halfway, biting his lip harshly at the contact.Â
âPlease, Jungkook.â You cry out, thrusting your hips into his once again, by yourself this time, desperate for a touch, an ounce of frictionâ anything.
âPlease what, baby?â Jungkook responds with a question, his hot breath hitting the exposed skin of your neck, trailing all the way down to your collarbones. âUse your words, I know you can.âÂ
Your hands continue moving on his shoulder, sliding off his shirt once youâre done with the buttons. You find yourself needing to take a moment at the sight of his bare chest, because itâs better than any youâve seen before. Soft, tonedâ maybe even a little too tonedâ so bare and so pretty, all for you to touch.Â
Your hands roam around his chest, tracing lines along his abs. Jungkook has to bite his cheek to suppress any unplanned sounds that he realizes are way more likely to slip than he thought now that he actually feels your touch on his body. Â
âNot gonna fucking beg for this.â You squeeze his shoulders, nails digging deeply into his bare skin, letting your back lean even more into the wall.Â
Fuck.
Jungkook has thought about this.
In quieter moments, in between meetings and conversations when you were standing a little too close, in places where he shouldnât have; heâs thought about it all. The way your voice would drop by and octave when you were focused, the way your skirt would ride up your thigh when you leaned in just a little lower, the way your hand would brush his like it meant nothing.
It never meant nothing to him.
Heâd always pushed it down. Because this was work, because you were his partner, because he knew you better than to ruin something that functioned this well.
But now, your hands are all over his body, moving and pulling him in instead of stopping. Your lips are so fucking soft against his, making his chest tighter and head emptier until there isnât a single coherent thought left inside.Â
âFucking tease.â Jungkook says before lifting your dress up, letting it pool around your waist. Your lips curl up in victory when he pulls your panties to the side, flicking the lips of your pussy with two fingers, feeling your slick coat his fingers.Â
He plays with your clit, rubbing circles with his thumb as his two other fingers slide in and out of your wet, aching hole. Your eyes immediately fall shut at the contact, inhaling sharply when he curls his fingers at an angle he knows will make you see stars.Â
Then he falls to his knees.Â
Your eyes flutter open the moment you hear the way his knees hit the hard floor, lips parting as youâre taken aback by whatever heâs doing. You look down to him, brows furrowed in
confusion in a way that asks. But Jungkook doesnât respond, he only gives you a smirk after looking up, then flicks his gaze back down again.Â
His fingers wrap around the lace fabric of your black panties, pulling them down in a way thatâs painfully slow considering the waterfall between your thighs right now. When the thin piece of fabric pools down on the floor, you lift your foot, kicking it to the side with your heels.Â
âJungkook,â You gasp loudly when he lifts one of your legs, hooking it over his shoulder. He starts by trailing kisses up your thighs, one hand wrapped around the soft flesh in order to steady your body. Your hands fly onto his hair before you can think, fisting and pulling at it as he gets closer and closer to your core.Â
âOh my god,â You moan, looking down at him as his tongue laps against your swollen pussy. His fingers flick your lips open, easing it up for him to work his tongue. Jungkook groans as you tug onto his hair harder, licking your pussy as if heâs savoring the taste of every flavour on his tongue.Â
Your thighs clam around his head, closing with a shake you have no idea how to control. Your nails dig into your own palms by how hard youâre holding onto him, stinging in a way thatâs almost painful.Â
âShit, âm so close.â You whimper as heat pools low in your stomach, twisting and curling so hard that you feel your legs giving out.Â
âSweetest pussy ever.â Jungkook pulls away for a split second before connecting his mouth back onto your throbbing pussy, his tongue flattening right at the part where it pulses the heaviest.Â
âJungkook, fuck.â You cum hard with a scream of his name, your head falling back onto the wall so fast it almost hurts. Jungkook licks you through your orgasm, his fingers that were once separating your lips now rubbing circles on your clit until youâre fully out of your high.Â
Your breath doesnât settle when he stands again, coming back up to his feet so fast, as if being away from you for even a second feels unbearable. You hold onto his arms to regain
your balance, and no more than a second passes before Jungkookâs lips find yours again.Â
âGonna bend you over and take you right fucking here.â Jungkook says, grunting as he pulls back. He turns you around, then pushes you over the backrest of the leather couch until your ass is perfectly aligned and in sight. Jungkook palms the soft flesh of your skin, gripping and squeezing as he tries unzipping his pants with his free hand.Â
His dick springs out once his boxer is down his thighs, slapping against his abs immediately. He gives his already hardened length a few strokes before lining it up your entrance, flicking your folds with his tip, all red and angry, eager to fuck you into oblivion until your eyes roll back so hard it hurts to not see his face through the darkness.Â
You whimper loudly when Jungkook enters you with a hard slam, back arching into the air instinctively. His hand settles on your waist, gripping firmly as the other doesnât leave your waist. Your pussy feels so tight and warm around his cock, and Jungkook thinks heâs going to burst out.Â
âCanât believe youâve been hiding yourself from me for years.â Jungkook says, words coming out shaky due to how hard heâs pounding into you. âPlayed so hard to get when youâre really just a slut.âÂ
âShut the fuck up.â You spit back through grithed teeth, trying to suppress your moans by burying your head into the couch. Jungkook lets out a cocky chuckle that twists your nerves even more, but the annoyance is quickly swollen up by how good heâs pounding into you.Â
He reaches for your dress, pulling down the fabric on your chest until the swell of your boobs spill out through your bra. Jungkook pulls down your bra next, your tits coming full on display
with a bounce. He moans when his palms settle on your soft boobs, fingers flicking and pinching your nipples until your pussy aches even harder with the sensation.Â
âRight there, oh my god, right fucking there.â You choke out with the little energy you have left, feeling your orgasm closer than ever. Jungkook fists your hair when you least expect it, yanking you up so that your back arches further and his bare chest grazes over your body.Â
You moan out shaky curses, not even aware of what youâre saying anymore as he keeps pounding into you from behind. Tears prickle up at the corners of your eyes, Jungkookâs grip getting tighter and tighter in your hair as he nears his high.Â
âShit,â Jungkook whimpers, dick twitching inside your walls. âWhere do you want me?â He asks, voice so low and breathy that it sends you over the edge.Â
âFuck, want it inside. Donât you dare pull out.â You say, feeling your orgasm build as his thrusts transition into something messy and sloppy.
âOh yeah?â He breathes, pushing your body back onto the couch, his grip on your waist tightening.Â
Jungkook cums hard with a loud groan, emptying all of himself into you. You push yourself back on his dick a few times before your orgasm also rips through, crying out at both how hard youâre cumming, and how good heâs filling you up.Â
Thereâs a beat where he doesnât pull out, cock softening inside you as his forehead presses between your shoulderblades, his unsteady breath feeling hot on your skin. Your breath also doesnât settle instantly, chest rising unevenly as the weight of him suddenly feels too heavy on your skin. Everything falls back into place one by one, your vision drifting back as you come down from your high. The warmth of the dim lights, the closed door thatâs hiding way too much behind, the quiet hum of voices that are muffled together behind the wallsâ it all returns all at once, like youâre being forced back into reality after being somewhere else entirely.Â
Jungkookâs hand is still on your waist, grip still firm as if he hasnât realized he has to let you goâ or maybe he just doesnât want to let you go.Â
When Jungkook slides out of you, you push yourself up slightly, your body still slower than your head. âJungkook,â You start, voice rough.
You feel his body still above you, a shift thatâs so subtle yet still enough for you to feel. The realization hits him the same moment it hits you, his hand loosening on your waist.
âCameras.â You finish, voice soft and quiet despite the weight of your words.Â
Thatâs all it takes for Jungkook to blink back into reality, pulling back fast as if distance has the power to fix everything just like that. But surprise surprise, it wonât.Â
Thatâs when a sound cuts through the walls, something so faint that for a second, you think that even you might have missed it. But you donât, because you never do. You flinch regardless, fingers tightening slightly where they rest against him.Â
Jungkook feels it instantly, head snapping towards the door before he flicks his gaze back to you, leaning down just a little. âWhat?â He murmurs in your ear, voice low in a way thatâs barely above a whisper.
You donât answer, you canât bring yourself to answer, because nothing thatâs going through your head sounds coherent as words. Your head turns slightly when another muffled voice comes through somewhere behind the right wall, tilting enough to catch the direction without making it obvious. Jungkook follows without looking, shifting and leaning closer by just half an inch, instinctively hovering his body above yours.Â
His chest rises and falls harder than his usual breathing, eyes flicking around the room, reevaluating everything youâve terribly miscalculated. âFuck.â He mutters under his breath.
âYouâre overreacting.â Someone says, voice calm and controlled, so much that it makes your stomach twist.Â
âIâm not overreacting, they went into one of the rooms.â Another voice replies, but itâs sharper this time. Dressed in a worry that doesnât even try to rival how composed the previous man was.Â
Jungkookâs hand tightens around the backrest of the couch, leaning his body weight onto his hands above you. Your breath gets caught in your throat, stomach dropping in a way thatâs almost unprofessional.Â
âWhich room?â The calmer man asks.Â
Thereâs a pause after that, maybe a flick over the keyboard, maybe a shift of screening, you donât know which. But the soft clicking thatâs somehow heard even from where you are is enough for you to freeze beneath the warmth of Jungkookâs body.Â
Jungkookâs grip stills on you completely, his wide eyes staring wordlessly into the wall as yours are stuck on his chest. Unable to move, unable to speak.Â
âDo we know who they are?â
âNot yet.âÂ
With that, you exhale slowly, letting out the breath that has been stuck in you ever since the first subtle shift behind the walls. You know this doesnât give you much time, hell, it would probably be criminal to call whatever this is some time. But right now, youâll take anything you can. Because everything feels so fucking unavoidable.Â
âRun it through the system.â The second voice requests. âFaces, behavior, track everything.âÂ
âThey wonât make it out without us knowing,â The first voice finishes. You hear the faint scraping of the chairs, footsteps that are closer and closer as time passes by, movement thatâs too animatic to be real, it all hits your ear in a hue. Suddenly, the door clicks, and theyâre gone just like that.Â
For a second, it feels like theyâre still right behind the wall, their presence burning holes through your body without even catching sight of your eyes. Like theyâre still listening, still watching, waiting.
But then, somewhere between the third and fourth breath you exhale, the sound starts fading and fading until theyâre finally out of your reach.Â
But you donât know if thatâs a good thing or not, because itâs still not quiet enough. The constellation of Jungkookâs uneven breaths mixed with yours rip through the air until it feels unbearable to exist in the same space anymore.Â
Because now, your fingers curl tighter against Jungkookâs shirt for a different reason entirely. He pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes filled with something that indicates he understood everything at exactly the same time as you. And itâs nowhere near controlled.Â
âThey flagged the room.â You whisper, wide eyes looking up at him in a way that causes Jungkook to curse at himself for thinking with his dick in a situation like this.Â
His jaw tightens. âYeah.âÂ
Your mind races, trying to recollect everything until they stick together again. âAnd the system-âÂ
He cuts you off. âItâs already running.âÂ
Your voice drops as you start blinking so fast it hurts. âShit, Jungkook, what do we do? They fucking saw us.â
You hate how he doesnât deny it, how he doesnât even try to soften it. Because itâs there, everything already happened in a way thatâs way too ugly to be repairable, way too real to be covered with a lie.Â
Jungkook calls your name, slow and calculated. âTheyâre looking for us.âÂ
The way those words land is so much worse than whatever you had registered previously, leading your chest to tighten until it leaves no space for your breath to exist in your lungs. Everything you just did, everything you just heardâ Youâre not ahead anymore, youâre inside it, youâre caught right in the middle of everything you were told to stay away from.Â
You make a mental note of torturing yourself for the way your chest flutters when Jungkookâs hand finds yours, grip firm like heâs scared to let you go, like heâs scared something might happen to you.Â
âWe need to move.â He says, eyes scanning around the room for anything thatâs even the smallest thread. But when it comes to actually moving, neither of you really act on it.Â
Because you both know the mission isnât the only thing at risk anymore.
