shotaro.

secretly takes pics of you

it started with something innocent, truly. you were laughing at something on your phone, early morning sunlight catching on your cheekbones, hair a little messy from sleep. and he thought, ‘god, she looks so pretty like this.’ so he took a picture. but then he couldn’t stop, and now he does it without thinking. (without you looking.) the way your skirt rides up when you lean over something. the curve of your back when you stretch. your thighs pressed together while you sit comfortably. his favorite, though? the one he snapped from the hallway last night. you in the shower, steam clinging to your body, head tilted back as you rinsed your hair. he hadn’t meant to stare. but his cock was already hardening in his sweats, the shape of your body seared into his brain. and later, when you were asleep, he laid there on the couch stroking himself to the sight of you behind the glass, lips parted, body curved and arched so beautifully. “shit, baby…” he whispered in the dark, voice breathless. “so pretty…always so perfect…” he finishes with your photo still open, cum spilling onto his stomach as he imagines taking the next one—this time, one that you would know about. one with his cock between your thighs and your eyes looking right up into the lens.

eunseok.

films your pussy as you cum

you were still shaking, chest heaving, body limp and spread out on the sheets. alternately, eunseok had his phone already in his hand, and was busy angling it low between your thighs. his voice is deep when he speaks, eyes glued to the phone screen. “just for me, baby…” because he knows you’re too fucked-out to move or oppose. he knows you’ll let him. “just so i can watch it again later, yeah?” he whispers. he watches the slow throb of your pussy as his own cum mixes with yours and slips out of you. your aching cunt catching the light perfectly and glistening on camera. he closely watches the way you clench around nothing, so messy and fluttering and just ruined from how good he fucked you. he zooms in. he wants to replay it when he’s alone. wanting to see your slick mixed with his up close. the twitch of your cunt. the way your body immediately misses him after he’s pulled out. it was something only for him to see. and under his breath, almost reverent, he praises, “so fucking pretty like this…”

sungchan.

searches for porn videos that have girls who resemble you

sungchan doesn’t even pretend anymore. doesn’t pretend everything he does isn’t revolving around you. doesn’t click random videos or scroll for variety. he searches you. your hair, your beautiful skin, the exact shade of your lips when they’re swollen from kissing. he types in everything he can that the website would take. everything he remembers from earlier—the color of your lingerie, the gloss you were wearing, everything. and when he finds her — someone close enough to help just once, he exhales like he’s been holding his breath all day. “yeah…” he murmurs, cock already in hand. “fuck, you look just like her…” he starts stroking slowly, hips twitching as the girl on screen moans. it’s not your voice, but it’s close. close enough for him to imagine your face twisted up in pleasure, body arching for him. “wish it was you,” he groans through gritted teeth, jerking harder. “wish you’d let me do that to you…” he cums with your name on his lips, face in his mind — not hers. spilling all over his stomach as the video plays on, completely ignored. because it was never about the porn, or the girl in the video. it was always about you.

wonbin.

sniffs your dirty panties

he yanked them off of you barely twenty minutes ago. red lace, damp with arousal, your little moans still echoing in his head. you’re in the shower now, not knowing he’s pacing the bedroom with your panties clutched in his fist. he sits on the edge of the bed, bringing them to his face, and moans the second your scent hits him. sweet, sharp, soaked. he buries his nose in the center, tongue darting out to taste the mess you left behind. “fuck, baby…” he groans, cock already leaking in his palm. strokes himself slow while his mouth stays on the lace, cock twitching at the memory of how wet you were for him. “still so fuckin’ sweet…” he whispers, licking once more before pulling them down, slipping the panties over the head of his cock. the fabric, still damp, stretched tight around his tip. it’s warm, wet, so close to the real thing. he whines through gritted teeth, fucking into the lace like it’s your pussy. like you’re still wrapped around him, moaning his name. he cums with a sharp gasp, spilling into the red lace, soaking it all the way through. lets it stay there, sticky and wrapped around him while he breathes heavy. he tucks the panties back into the dirty laundry, under a shirt, like nothing happened.

seunghan.

calls you just to hear your voice while he cums

“fuck…pick up, pick up—please…” you answer with a sleepy little “hello?” his head falls back against the pillow, breath catching deep in his throat. “baby…” he groans, voice thick with desperation, “i’m so close—just keep talking, yeah? just let me hear you…your voice makes me so hard.” you ask him what he’s doing, but he’s already falling apart. “’m jerking off to you,” he pants, “have been all night. needed to hear you. just your voice, that’s all i need—fuck, fuck—baby, need to cum…” you hum softly, innocent but now knowing. “mm, you sound so pretty like this, baby…” seunghan breaks on the last word, breath hitching as he spills over his stomach he cums hard, hot and messy across his fist, hips twitching while he moans into the phone. he can barely breathe, chest heaving, your name falling from his lips like a chant. then silence. just him panting ragged and the wet sound of his fist finally slowing down. “…fuck,” he murmurs, breathlessly and utterly wrecked. “you make me so fuckin’ needy, baby.”

sohee.

jerks off while you sleep beside him

you’re on your side, facing him. lips parted, tits spilling from your tank top with every breath, the curve of your ass peaking out from underneath the covers. so close he can smell your shampoo, see the way your thighs press together under the blanket. sohee tries to look away. he really does.but his cock’s already hard under the blanket, aching as he watches your chest rise and fall. he moves slowly, careful not to wake you. stroking his dick under the covers, eyes fixed on your chest, imagining sliding between them, fucking them while you moan his name. his brain blank with the mental image of watching you moan and squeeze them tighter around him. you shift slightly, a little whimper, and he nearly loses it. “shit…so perfect…” he whispers. he finishes fast. silently. hand over his mouth and cum spilling over his hand. he lays there ruined and sweaty beside you. you shift in your sleep, murmuring and completely unaware. he just swallows hard and stares at the ceiling, whispering, “i’m so fucked up…”

anton.

buries his face in your bra when he finds it in the laundry

your clothes come off slowly. not with heat or urgency, but reverence. jake didn’t rush. just watches you in the dim glow of the lamp on his dresser like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he blinks.

his touch was delicate, hesitant even. he helps you out of your shirt, fingertips ghosting over your skin making goosebumps raise on your body.

“are you sure?” he asks, voice a scared but raw whisper. you nod, even though you weren’t. you weren’t sure if this was the right thing, if it was smart. but you craved him. not just his body, but the way he holds you. the way he looks at you. the way he always has.

he lips meet yours like it’s the last time. if it wasn’t, it was one of the last. the kiss was slow, unhurried, lips moving against yours with a tenderness that makes you want to cry all over again. his palm cups your cheek, thumb brushing the soft skin under your eye, catching the tear before it falls any further.

“i hate this,” you whisper.

he doesn’t answer. instead, just rests his forehead against yours, breath trembling. and then he pulls you with him, warm and familiar. landing on top of you on his bed. the one you two had fallen into so many times before.

when he pushed into you slowly, you both exhale at the same time. like it hurts and heals all at once.

jake sets the pace, rhythm unhurried. he moves with purpose, rolling his hips deeply into you, needing and wanting to feel every inch of you again. like if he fucks you slow enough, it wouldn’t have to end. his hands hold your hips, then your waist, then your face, never letting go for too long. you cling to his shoulders, arms wrapping around him when you could. you yearned for the heat of his body, anything he was willing to give you.

“you still fit me so perfectly,” he breathes hot against your jaw, voice almost hoarse. “so beautiful.”

his words make your heart lurch.

‘i still love you’, you want to say. ‘i still love you’, and that’s the problem.

your hips start to meet his halfway, soft moans slipping past your lips as he rocks into you again, and again. it’s not about chasing your pleasure. it was about holding on, about saying everything you can’t in words. each slow grind of skin against skin, makes it even harder to believe the circumstances. jake technically wasn’t yours anymore. hadn’t been for two weeks. but you both couldn’t seem to let go just yet, and maybe just maybe, this was the answer.

his nose nudges yours. lips brushing lightly, eyes locked. and he stays like that, enveloped by you, looking at you like he was memorizing your face.

you come with his name on your tongue, your body tensing around him as you let go. he lets out a sharp breath, drops his face to your shoulder, and follows you just seconds later, coming deep. his hips stuttering, his arms wrapping tight around your waist like he’s afraid of you slipping away before the moment’s over.

he stays inside you long after it passed, your fingers trace the curve of his back. his hand cradles your jaw like he always did. everything was quiet but your labored breathing.

“we were supposed to be better off, right?” you whisper.

jake lets out a small, unhumored laugh. “yeah,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “but it doesn’t make this any easier.”

then, slowly, jake pulls out, careful, visibly reluctant. he rolls to lay next to you but keeps his hand on your waist. you feel the mess between your thighs, the emptiness where he used to be. the cooling air reminding you of the finality of it all.

“i should go,” you murmur, eyes on the ceiling. his grip tightens for a second. not in a possessive way, but instinctively

“yeah,” he says. quiet. you sit up, start gathering your clothes off the floor. jake watches you pull your shirt back on with that same pained look he gave you when you through his door. maybe even worse. “i don’t regret any of it,” he says, voice a little hoarse.

you glance back at him. his hair was a mess, lips pink and swollen, eyes tired. he looks almost the same as the day you broke up, minus the endless tears. “me neither,” you whisper.

you pause by the door, hand shaky on the handle. “take care of yourself, jake.”

he nods then forces a small smile. “you too.”

you leave without looking back. if you did, you wouldn’t have been able too. the weight of what could’ve been and the warmth of what was, heavy on your heart.

mark.

he had you pinned beneath him, hips rolling slow and curling just right between your thighs. his pace lazy but oh, so deep. your legs are thrown over his shoulders, and his forehead is pressed against yours, plump lips brushing yours with every breath.

his phone starts ringing on the nightstand. the buzz vibrating through the quiet room, persistently. he lifts his head, eyes glancing to it. “shit,” he mutters, pausing the movements of his hips just slightly.

“don’t,” you breathe, fingers clinging to his damp and flushed skin. “don’t stop, mark, please—” he lets out a breathy laugh and dips his head to kiss your jaw. “you want me to keep going, baby?”

you nod, desperate. “yes—just ignore it.”

“thought so.” he picks up his pace again, hips snapping forward harder. “they can wait. you can’t.” you swear he’s thrusting deeper now. rougher and unforgiving, the sound of the slick between your thighs filling the room as the phone keeps ringing.

“let’s let ‘em wonder, hm?” he groans. “let ‘em fucking wonder what’s got me so busy i can’t answer.”

renjun.

renjun was laid out under you, one hand stroking your thigh and other in your waist as you ride him slowly, letting him watch the way you take every inch of him. his lips are parted, eyes half-lidded, breath warm against your bare chest. then your phone starts buzzing, lighting up right next to you.

his eyes flick to it. “your phone.” your hips falter slightly, biting your lip. “should i get it?”

his hand slides up your waist, grabbing it firmly. “no.” renjun swore that everyone was trying to keep you from him all day. he would damned if this phone call was the reason your attention was somewhere else.

he keeps his eyes locked on you as he simply reaches over and declines the call. doesn’t even look to see who it was, and it ends with a quiet beep. “problem solved.”

his voice drops as he ruts his hips up into you suddenly. “you’re not going anywhere.”

you gasp, hands immediately clinging to his chest. “jun—”

“you think i’ll let someone interrupt this?” he huffs, fucking up into you harder now. almost impatient. “finish what you started.”

jeno.

you were bent over the ( just cleaned ) kitchen counter, cheek pressed to the cool surface as jeno drove into you from behind, harsh but deeply. he’s got one hand wrapped around to your lower stomach and the other on your lower back, keeping you still as he thrusts into you. and now, into that spot that makes your knees buckle in the best way.

his phone rings on the table just a bit behind you two. “hold still,” he husks, pulling out just enough to reach it, and to make you whimper, then plunges back in.

“hello?” you hear him speak into the phone.

your eyes widen. “jeno—what the hell—?”

he presses a hand over your mouth. “mm-hm. yeah. well, i’m kinda…busy right now.” you moan against his palm as he keeps thrusting, painfully slower now, almost taunting you.

“nah, i’ll call you back,” he says calmly, letting his eyes roam hungrily over you. “don’t wait up.”

he ends the call and tosses the phone aside, grabbing and pulling your hips back against him. “now where were we?”

haechan.

from a night that was supposed to be nothing but cuddling and movie marathons, haechan always found a way to get what he wanted. which was him on his stomach between your legs, tongue and lips working you open like he hadn’t eaten all day.

then, interrupting your blissful state, your phone starts ringing somewhere on the bed near your head.

haechan pauses, lips slick, nose and chin glistening. he blinks up at you. “uh-oh. someone’s calling.” you reach out for it blindly. “don’t—don’t answer it—”

he just grins and snatches the phone before you can grab it. “ooh, should we say hi?”

“hyuck, please—don’t—”

he presses speaker, sets the phone beside your head, and goes right back in, tongue flicking your clit while he listens for the voice on the other end.

“hello?” your back arches, one hand flying to cover your mouth as you try not to let a single sound slip out. “can’t talk right now,” he says innocently, lifting his head just enough to speak. “she’s a little…preoccupied.”

you whimper, and he leans up to lay open-mouthed kissws to your neck, keeping the phone between you. “say hi, baby.” his voice dripping sweetness, despite the sheer dirtiness of it all.

jaemin.

jaemin was holding you close from behind, buried deep inside you, his hips rolling in loving, torturous thrusts. your body’s pressed tight to his, one hand around your waist, the other snaked down between your thighs, drawing slow, small circles over your clit.

then, of course just to remind you of reality, his phone starts ringing somewhere behind him.

you both go still.

he lets out a low sigh and nuzzles further into your neck. “ignore it.”

“what if it’s important?” you asked, voice small.

he thrusts in again, deeper this time. “this is important.” your breath catches, and he grins against your skin.

“stay right here. let them call. let them leave a voicemail. i’m not worried about that right now.”

and just like that, you both fell back into your bubble of bliss.

chenle.

chenle was already late for work, but he just couldn’t leave without having you once. he’s standing between your legs, hands under your thighs as he fucks into you with messy, uneven thrusts. your ass is on the bathroom counter, head tipped back, with his teeth marking your neck.

your phone lights up in the sink next to you. “ugh,” you groan, but it comes out as more of a moan. “my phone—”

he looks over, sees the name, and laughs. “you’re not answering that.”

“but—” before you can finish, he picks it up and tosses it out into the hallway, where it hits the carpet with a soft thud.

“don’t have time,” he grins. “no distractions.”

“chenle!”

he smirks and pulls your hips to the edge of the counter, slamming into you even harder. “what? you want me to go get it?”

“fuck, no—don’t stop.”

“yeah, that’s what i thought.”

jisung.

his head was tipped back resting against the couch, legs spread wide, lips parted in a dazed little ‘oh’ as your hand worked his dick slow and steady. your tongue swipes teasingly along the tip, just enough to make his legs twitch.

he’s whining already, voice high. “b-baby—please—”

then your phone starts ringing on the coffee table, but you don’t even flinch. instead, you reach for it with a small smirk and hold it up to his ear with your clean hand. “answer it.”

his eyes go wide, tilting his head down to look at you. “w-what?”

you swirl your tongue over the head of his dick, then squeeze the base of him. “i said answer it.”

he fumbles to hit accept, failing hold back a broken moan. he answered after trying to clear his throat, breath shaky. “h-hello?”

you stroke him faster now, thumb sliding over him, and he nearly chokes on air trying to stay quiet.

the office was almost completely still, dead quiet after eight pm. the lights were dimmed, halls empty, the last of the cleaning staff gone a little bit ago.

but you’re still here trying to catch up on some of your paperwork. apparently, so is lee heeseung. and god, you’ve been trying to ignore him for weeks. he’s too smug, too good at his damn job, and worst of all, too attractive.

always has his sleeves rolled up by the end of the day, loosened tie, tousled hair that always looks like he just ran his hands through it after winning a case. in your books he was disgustingly perfect. and it didn’t help that he was always around. flirting with you in passing like it’s a reflex, always saying your name with a tone that is anything but casual or coworker-like. almost like he knows it does something to you. and it does. but you were a professional. composed. however, heeseung was a walking sin in a three-piece suit.

you’re halfway through drafting a motion that was supposed to be done a few days ago, when a soft sounds hits your door. “hey.” his voice is low, annoyingly smooth.

you glance up and he’s leaning against the doorframe, sleeves rolled up per usual, pretty silver watch glinting. he holds a file in one hand, other tucked in his pocket. his tie loose around his neck but this time with the top two buttons of his shirt undone.

“got those docs you needed,” he says, stepping in closer to your desk.

you swallow hard. “thanks.”

you stand, reaching for the file, only for him to hold onto it a second too long, fingers brushing yours as you tug it to you. the silence stretches thickly.

“got a lot left?” he asks, eyes flicking over you. his gaze is blatant, hungry. score ripping them off you and looking at your paper cluttered desk.

“not really,” you mutter, hugging the file to your chest. “was just about to—“

“head out?” he cuts in, brows twitching. “or come by my office?” his tone is easy, but his eyes say something else. something darker.

“your office?” you ask, voice a little too breathy.

he grins slow, like he’s been waiting for this moment. “yeah. i owe you for those merger notes, right?”

you try not to let your breathing catch and stay calm. his presence alone made your skin heat up. “you could’ve just emailed me.”

“sure,” he shrugs. “but then i wouldn’t get to see you like this.”

he steps closer, your back hits the desk with the step you take back.

“like what?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

he eyes your legs, your black skirt, your matching pantyhose, your high heels on your feet.

“like this,” he calmly says. “you in this skirt. those pretty heels. standing there looking at me like you’re either gonna make out with me or hit me.”

you should stop this, make him leave. you know you should. but then he lifts a slow hand and runs the pad of his thumb just beneath your lip, tilting your chin up slightly.

“come to my office,” he murmurs, gaze locked on your lips like he was already pressing his to them. “please.”

you don’t remember saying yes, but you let your hand slip in his as you walk with him.

the second the door clicks shut, he’s on you.

you drop the file down on his desk, back facing him and he takes that for advantage. he presses up behind you, hands not on you yet, just lets his breath ghost over your ear and neck. whatever it was about him, it snaps the thread you’ve both been trying to keep up for weeks. you spin to face him and then you’re kissing.

the kiss was never once anything but hunger. it was deep, hard, months of sexual tension fulminating in one filthy, unprofessional mess. now his hands were everywhere. sliding down your sides, gripping your ass, pressing you even closer to him. then he’s pushing you back onto the edge of his desk.

“shit,” he mutters, yanking at your blouse, eyes locking with yours. “you know how hot you are?”

“heeseung—“ you gasp as he grinds his hips into your slowly, the hard bulge of his cock through his slacks pressing between your thighs.

“been thinking about this since you started here,” he breathes heavily. “every time you walked in here with those cute little outfits. so slutty—shit.”

he grabs at your blouse, yanking it open hard enough that you thought it broke. the buttoned top freeing your boobs and the black lace covering them.

“fucking finally,” he mutters, his mouth crashing down to your chest, tongue licking a bold stripe over the swell of your breast before he’s tugging your bra down roughly. the quick movement making your tits spill out of the, and he wastes no time, sucking one of your nipples straight into his mouth.

you gasp, arching your body into him, hands flying to grab at his shoulders. he groans against you, sucking hard, tongue swirling as his hands come up to the other, squeezing, kneading, pinching it. anything he could to make you whimper. he switches to the other breast with just as much desperation.

“so fucking pretty,” he growls, lips glossy, breath hot. “been dying to get my mouth on you.”

you try to say something back, but he grinds into you again, right against the heat of your pussy through your thin clothing. it’s filthy. he’s filthy. perfect. he ruts into you slow, yet still rough, like he’s trying to feel you through your clothes. he’s still groping your tits, licking and sucking and moaning into your skin.

“feel that?” he mutters, grinding harder. “s’how hard i get for you.”

all you can do is moan softly in response. as if something clicked in him, his hands hike up your skirt just enough to get to your pantyhose better. he doesn’t wait another second, bunching them in his fists and rips them, causing the cool air to float to your aching core.

“oh my god,” you breathe.

“don’t worry. i’ll buy you another pair,” he says, eyes glued to the run in the nylon. “or twenty. fuck—spread your legs.”

you do, heels sliding apart on the polished wood as he sinks to his knees in front of you. and his own breath catches when he sees what’s underneath.

“fuck,” he murmurs, fingers brushing over the thin black string cutting across your hips. his eyes snap up to yours, full of heat and thick lust.

“a thong?” he smirks, almost laughing. “fucking hell. you knew i’d be here tonight, didn’t you?”

his hand grip around to your ass, thumb sliding along the curve of it. he pulls the elastic away from your skin, hard, letting it snap back against your skin with a loud pop. the act causing a small whimper from you.

“nasty girl,” he mutters, mouth trailing up your thigh. “walking around the office like you’re so fucking innocent…but wearing this under your skirt.”

your heart slams against your ribcage. and suddenly, as if it hit you all at once what you two were doing, you speak up.

“heeseung—what if someone—“ “they won’t.” his voice is wracked with need. “office is empty. just us.”

and then he buries his face between your thighs. you gasp, a choked moan leaving you as his tongue meets your pussy. his hand gripping your thigh tight as he held the fabric of your thong to the side.

he groans deep into you. “fuck—you’re soaked,” he mutters, stuffing his face closer to get to your bare cunt. “can’t believe i waited this long.”

you can’t think, let alone speak. his mouth is too good. lips and tongue working you open like he knows your body already, like he’s done it a hundred times and committed it to memory. he slides two fingers into you without a warning. you moan out, clutching at the edge of the desk, knuckles white.

he curls them with perfect precision, sucking on your clit, murmuring, “so fucking tight,” like he’s losing it already.

when he finally pulls back, lips shiny, he stands and kisses you like he can’t be away from you any longer. his lips and tongue mingle with yours, letting you taste yourself. his fingers still buried inside you, still pumping you slow.

“you taste so good,” he whispers, voice gone gravelly. “think about this every time you say my name. imagine what you would sound like…let me hear you.”

his fingers reach the perfect spot just as he speaks, curling inside you just right. “f-fuck, hee—“ your moan breaks out of you before you can stop it, high and trembling, hips grinding against his palm.

he moans lowly, taking his fingers from your cunt as you whine. he’s unbuttoning his shirt now, working his tie looser. he pulls at it, frustrated and needy, yanking it off and throwing it aside.

“turn around,” he says, low and firm. “bend over the desk.” your knees almost give out at the sole tone of his voice but you do as he says.

his hand splays on your back, pressing you down to the cool wood, the other hand pulling your hips back toward him. you hear the unbuckle of his belt. the tugging of his zipper, and the low, shaky breath he exhales when he finally takes in your form bent over for him.

“you’re perfect,” he mutters. “absolutely fucking perfect.” smoothing his hand over the curve of your bare ass, licking his lips.

he slowly drags the head of his cock through your folds, spreading you open. he teases you leisurely, collecting slick on the tip.

“beg,” he says.

“please,” you moan in a breathy voice. “heeseung—need you.”

knowing he could hardly wait any longer either, he decides that was enough for him and pushes in. the moan you let out is a broken one, echoing off the high ceilings of his clean office.

he bottoms out, hips pressing to yours as his breath stutters. “fuck. you feel—fucking amazing, baby.”

he barely waits another second before pulling almost all the way out of you before snapping his hip forward. the motion making you jolt a giant the desk, hands grasping tightly. he fucks into you like he’s wanted to for months. like it’s the only thing that’s ever made sense to do.

his thrusts are deep, and angled just right every time. he was relentless. one of his hands come around to rub your clit, fingers still wet from earlier. “you’re mine now,” he growls lowly into your ear, pounding into you harder. “understand?”

you nod frantically, crying out when he hits your sweet spot over and over.

“say it.”

“yours,” you sob. “i’m yours—ngh—heeseung, i’m—“

before you could register it, your orgasm hits you like a truck. you come around him hard, hole clenching tight, legs shaking. the heels you were wearing were the only things keeping your legs from giving out.

he curses under his breath, thrusts into you a few more times, then groans deep as ecstasy shoots through him in shockwaves, his hand gripping your waist grip almost bruising.

the air around you was thick and hot with sweat, sex, and silence, the office going still.

he leans over you, breath ragged, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“wanna do that again on the conference table next time,” he murmurs, grinning smugly against your skin.

you laugh weakly. “you’re unbelievable.”

he eases out, tugging your skirt back down. “and you’re irresistible. we should stay after hours more often.”

he eases back from you slowly, lips brushing your body again like he’s not ready to let go. you’re still pinned against the desk as you face him, blouse open, skirt wrinkled up, your pantyhose letting a cold patch of air float up to your cunt. he glances down, winces slightly, then meets your eyes with the ghost of a smirk.

“shit. i really did a number on those, huh?”

you blink at him, still breathless. “you ripped them. ruined them.”

“they were in my way,” he shrugs unapologetically. but then his face softens a little. “i’ll buy you more. promise.”

he steps back just a little, looking you up and down like he only just realized how wrecked you look. then he laughs, both admiring and amused.

“how the fuck are you gonna leave the building like this?”

you sigh, buttoning your shirt back up. “guess you’re walking me out.”

he grins, grabs his tie off the floor, and presses one last kiss to your lips. “c’mon,”