rae 🖤

It was no secret your boyfriend was jacked.

His members knew it from sharing dorms with him for 4 years. 

His fans knew it from the numerous times he'd graced them by wearing a singlet and showed off his arms. When he blessed them by opening or outright taking off his shirt to reveal his abs.

You knew it because you must've saved a country in a past life. To be the lucky person who got to see his body every time you asked, or pouted, or so much as batted your eyelashes in that specific slow way.

But seeing can only do so much to calm the lust infused curiosity inside you. You'd felt his arms. Both when your arms were linked together while walking outside a row of shops, and the times you'd straight up asked to see them. He'd obliged with a chuckle, folding up his arm and flexing. 

The muscles of his biceps hadn't so much as twitched or flinched when you gingerly touched them. Rock solid barely did them justice, his biceps could rival diamonds. And they were so thick too. Your hands weren't the biggest, but they weren't the smallest either. Still, when you wrapped your hand around his arm, there was a sizeable portion of the circumference left untouched. 

The feeling of the hard muscle cording under soft skin had made your mouth water. And God help you when he flexed the muscle back and forth. You almost fainted from the mass of blood that pooled to your pussy, suddenly developing strength of your own to pull him into the bedroom and ride him until your entire body ached and shivered.

But there was one other thing you'd yet to check off your bucket list. You, for some unfathomable reason, had not felt up his abs yet. 

Looking at him now, freshly showered and sitting on the couch in a t-shirt almost bursting at the seams from the sheer size of his pecs, the fabric stretched tight enough to see the divots of his abs through the black fabric, you had never felt stupider. How could you have neglected the majesty that was Fuma's abs? What a blessing to have a face and heart so distracting it diverted your gaze from below, but enough was enough. 

God, he'd been so excited to be in that magazine. 

His gaze was narrowed as you gaped at the pages. This man, your personal ruin, didn’t even bother to hide the smirk on his face as you unblinkingly stared at the brazen display of male perfection in that magazine. How could you blink? It would take away a split second better spent admiring the ethereal man in the photos. The same man sat on the other side of your couch chuckling as he stared at you.

You couldn’t even form any compliments to give him. All your thoughts consisted of undignified barking and promises that you were going to suck his dick as a reward for the blessing your eyes received. God, the long blonde hair in the half-up, the warm lighting highlighting his beautiful dark brown eyes. The harsh ridges of his abs peeking through the black suit. It made your mouth water. You were sure you were drooling. 

“Do you like it, love?” The deep timbre of his voice asked, so perfectly matching the flawless masculinity of his body. 

You could barely answer, too set in your daze. Of all the thoughts soaked in your lust, one rose to the surface and stayed.

You had to feel this man’s abs, now. 

You swallowed thickly and put the magazine down on the couch cushion beside you. Then looked at him. He’d changed his hair now, a shorter wolfcut in a dirty blonde, but his eyes were still the exact same dark brown. Except for now, when they were narrowed and his mouth upturned in a smug smirk, knowing of the effect he had on you. He dipped the tip of his thumb in his mouth back and forth while pretending to wonder why you were so out of your mind.

As if he wasn’t the one whose mere existence sent you into a spiral of horny madness. 

You got up from your spot on the couch and sat beside him, your thigh pressed into his. You stared directly into his face, still donning the smug expression. He placed his hand on your thigh, sending a wave of heat spreading through your body.

“So did you like it?” The tease.

You breathed deeply, barely holding yourself back. “Yes.” Your voice was deceptively calm.

The hand that was touching your thigh moved up to curl your hair in his fingers. You pressed deeper into him, sneaking a hand onto his ribcage. The t-shirt he was wearing did a comically poor job at hiding his frame, the fabric sticking to his pecs like tape and even revealing the shadows of what was below them. You moved your hand up and down like you were petting him, trying to sneak a feel further and further down.

But Fuma was no idiot.

He smiled wider as he took your wandering hand in his and pressed a kiss to it. “Something you want to ask?”

He was urging you. He knew what you wanted, but if there was one thing Fuma loved, it was watching you fluster and squirm before finally giving in to your desires and asking for what you truly wanted. You weren’t going to get a feel unless you asked him yourself.

You blinked at him, used to his games and unsurprised by his request. But unbeknownst to him, you knew exactly what you wanted. Your usual fluster wasn’t showing her face. 

Just pure, carnal, want.

So you had no qualms voicing your wants.

“I want to feel your abs.”

He raised an eyebrow, but his eyes gleamed. “You can.”

You didn’t waste a millisecond. Blasting out of your relaxed stance curled up at his side, you tugged at the poor excuse of a shirt until he laughed brightly, taking it off and letting it fall to the floor.

There they were. In all their majesty. Thick, strong planes of muscle divided by deep ridges. A smattering of dark hair that traced below his belly button to under his pants. Your gaze zeroed in on them, ripe for the feeling, and Fuma, in all this teasing menace, flexed them, the few seconds you’d spent admiring him too long to stroke his ego.

You placed your hand down over them. Splayed out, like you didn’t know what to do but were greedy nonetheless. They were hard. Harder than his arms. Dense and unyielding. A sign of true strength that made your mouth water at what they represented. You ran your fingers up to the top of them, making your way down at a snail’s pace. This was the first time you’d done this, you were going to savour it like a five course meal.

His body was so different to yours. Where you were soft, he was toned to the gods. A modern day Adonis. 

Every centimetre, every groove your fingers caught on made you shiver. You’d known your boyfriend was strong, your goings on in bed were more than enough proof of his prowess. But getting to feel them, hard muscle signature of the ideal figure, was a different story. It spoke to the primal urge inside you that screamed to take. The type of partner bested by none, one that could provide everything you wanted, needed.

It wasn’t shocking to the mind, but to the body, your body, as you traced the lines, it made you gape in surprise. It was your reaction to the pictures in the magazine all over again. Fuma pulled you into him, settling your head in the crook of his neck as you rested your hand over him, stopping completely and catching up with the rush of heat spreading into every corner of your body. You stuttered out a breath.

“Wow…”

He laughed. “That’s all you have to say? Wow?”

Your hand shifted a fraction. “They’re so… hard.”

You stroked your hair. “Yeah. They are. Like them?”

You moved to look at him. “You know I do.”

He chuckled. “Just checking, love.”

The petname in his deep voice alone was enough to have an effect on you, but the symbol of his love combined with the panty-dropping sight and feel underneath your fingers was enough for a fresh wave of your juices to soak your panties beyond saving. You looked down at his abs again, your eyes calculating your next move. Fuma followed suit, instead his eyes carried a cocky glint. 

You trailed your hand downwards. Slowly still, past the bottom two planes of pure muscle and dusting of hair leading into the waistband of his pants. Fuma breathed sharply, shifting his stance on the couch to spread his legs and give you what you wanted to take. 

Or so he thought.

For your hand didn’t tease down to his crotch. Didn’t breeze over the half-hard bulge in his pants, certainly didn’t cup it and squeeze it lightly that made him roll back his head. No. You simply rested it on his thigh, rubbing right up on his groin a centimetre away from his dick. He breathed heavy, joining you in your lust as you rubbed him in the exact spot where he could feel you just enough to be on his radar, but not enough to actually feel anything where he was growing to need it the most.

“Love…” he groaned. “Don’t tease.”

You laughed in your throat sweetly. Then pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Okay.”

You climbed into his lap, swinging one leg over his thighs and boxing him in. He looked up at you, surprised but waiting for your next move. Your hands were on his shoulders, the warmth of them matching your hands as they slid down his torso. Your knuckles caught the swells of his pecs, the brush of one against his nipple earning you a hitch in his breath. They bumped against the ridges separating the abs you were admiring earlier, and you allowed yourself a final few seconds of staring before they suddenly rose up to hold his arms down. Right at his biceps.

You pressed your body into him, sliding down until your face was rested against his abs. You pressed your cheek into the muscle and smiled up at him in cheeky warning before kissing his abs. 

All around, not one area of the skin and muscle underneath was left untouched by your lips. Fuma remained quiet, a faux sign of composure, because he was losing his mind. Watching you worship his abs like this, the view of your head against his front and your soft lips against the sensitive skin. It did something to him he didn’t realise he’d never felt before. It was like when you gave him a blowjob. On your knees, his dick in your mouth, switching between focus on his dick and looking half-lidded into his eyes like you were drunk on the taste of his dick and the pleasure it gave him. But less so. Less sensation that still made his mind go fuzzy and electric at the same time. A frayed wire, rather than a live one. 

And then you started sucking. 

You caught whatever skin of his abs you could between your teeth. And sucked. Rhythmic passes of softly biting the skin between your teeth and sucking on it. The wet feeling of your mouth on the sensitive skin made Fuma moan, spurring you further. One hickey after another. You were insatiable, needing your boyfriend’s abs in your mouth and making sure the purple and red marks you were sucking into them ensured no other woman was seeing them for at least a week. No fan was getting their Fuma fix for the time being. No, this man was all yours. You were the lucky one and only. 

You stopped for a few seconds, sitting yourself down on your knees on the floor, your hands pressed on his inner thighs to keep him from closing his legs in sheer sensitivity. Then continued your painting on his skin. With every pulse of your mouth and teeth it made him harder, his cock noticeably pressed against the drawstring of his thin pants. He groaned at a particularly hard bite, looking down at you as you looked up. Your doe-eyed gaze would’ve been innocent had you not still had his abs in your mouth, and the cheeky wink you gave him made another moan leave him. He was sweating by now, rivulets perspiring on his skin and pooling in the grooves of his muscles that you more than heartily licked up as you kissed him.

His restraint was leaving him. The sight of you on your knees never failed to get him riled up, but the lack of stimulation to his dick was making him slowly go insane. He didn’t know how long he could take rutting his hips into nothing before he simply pulled you off him, wrenched his pants down and stuck his cock down your throat where he could get some relief from the pulsing hardness in his boxers. 

Thankfully though, you appeared to be on the same wavelength as him. You’d left an obscene smattering of hickies all along his abdomen. Some were on his abs, some in the grooves between them, others had been deeply more excruciating to handle because they’d been over his happy trail. Your lips left his skin, puffy and bruised a deep shade of red, and you looked up at him with a horny half-lidded gaze as you rubbed his thighs. 

“Do it or I’m going to do it for you.” Fuma struggled to speak between groans, his patience a thread away from snapping.

You stopped for a few seconds while pretending to ponder his warning. Then grinned. You passed a hand over the swell of his crotch, the fabric bulging outwards from the size of his dick. He groaned when you took it out of his boxers, hissing at the sudden cold air on his dick despite the atmosphere being so heated. His whole body was sweating under your touch now, giving a sheen to his skin and dampening his hairline. 

His cock twitched in your hand as he breathed heavily. He was almost shaking with anticipation of your wet mouth on his cock. 

“Do it.” His voice strained.

You chuckled and kissed his tip.

he waits until your breathing evens out (or until he thinks it has). then you hear the soft rustle of blankets, the tiny hitch in his breath, the barely-there wet sounds as he wraps a careful hand around himself. he always bites down on his sleeve or shoves his face into the pillow to muffle those pretty, desperate whimpers. he never lasts long—just a few frantic strokes while replaying every time you’ve bent over just enough that he could see the outline of your cunt, or the warm press of your tits against his arm when you leaned in so he could explain derivatives to you, the lazy sway of your hips when you crossed the room in nothing but one of his big shirts.

but the real reason you like having him as a dormmate is much simpler.

he’s so fucking easy to tease.

tonight the dorm is quiet except for the soft scratch of his highlighter. jo is hunched over his desk in an oversized sweater, glasses slipping down his nose, marker in hand as he marks up your latest calculus quiz. you’re supposed to be studying too, but you’ve been “studying” him instead— sprawled on your bed in nothing but one of his stolen hoodies and tiny black panties, legs spread just enough that if he glanced over he’d get a perfect view.

he hasn’t glanced once. he’s too shy. too good.

you’re so horny it’s ridiculous. you’ve been wet for hours just watching how his new haircut frames his face perfectly as he concentrates, the way his tongue pokes out when he solves a problem, the way his ears and neck turn pink every time you “accidentally” brush against him.

“joooo,” you call softly.

he startles, pencil freezing mid-equation. “y-yes?”

“come here for a second. i don’t get this one.”

he hesitates, small sigh escaping him—quiet defeat wrapped in kindness—then rolls his chair over to your bed, eyes carefully averting the black lace peeking out from underneath the hoodie.

you pat the spot on the bed right beside you, before speaking again. “come here. i need you closer.” he hesitates, eyes flicking to your bare thighs before darting away. “i… i can explain from here—”

“no. closer.” your voice drops, sweet but firm. “don’t make me ask twice, baby.”

he swallows hard. after a second he stands up and perches awkwardly on the edge of your, notebook still clutched in his hands like a shield. as if that stupid little book could save him from you. he smells like clean laundry and faint boy sweat. it makes your mouth water.

you don’t give him time to settle, time to relax. you never do. before he can even take a deep breath—your hand slides onto his thigh, high enough that your fingers brush the inside seam of his sweats. he jolts like you burned him. “wh-what are you—?” his voice cracks.

“shh.” you lean in, letting your breath ghost over his neck. “you’ve been such a good tutor tonight. so patient even when i keep messing up. but i’m reallyyyy horny, jo. like, stupidly horny. and you’re right here looking all cute and nervous.”

his breathing picks up instantly. you can see the front of his sweats starting to tent. “we… we should keep studying—”

you cut him off by palming his cock through the fabric. he’s already half-hard and god is he packing. why had you wasted so much time on all those disappointing boys when this had been waiting quietly across the room the whole time?

the tiny, choked whimper that escapes him is pure heaven.

“feel that?” you murmur, rubbing slow circles. “you’re getting hard just from me touching your leg. such a desperate little thing. my shy nerdy roommate can’t even focus on calculus because his cock twitches every time i sit too close.”

jo’s head drops forward, glasses fogging slightly. “hah— please… don’t— we shouldn’t—”

“hmmm but yooou like it,” you whisper, squeezing his length in your hand gently. “don’t you? you like when i push you a little. when i make you all whiny and embarrassed. i hear you at night, y’know. trying to hide those pretty little sounds when you think i’m asleep.”

he lets out a broken whine at your words, hips unconsciously twitching up into your hand despite his words. “m’ sorry— i didn’t mean for you to hear—i won’t do it agai—”

“oh yea? you wont?” you cut him off—slipping your hand inside his sweats and wrap your fingers around his bare cock. he’s burning hot, already leaking steadily. the moment you touch skin he whimpers again, louder, thighs trembling. “look at you. leaking all over my hand like a needy slut. you say we shouldn’t, but your cock is so honest. i know you’ll fuck your hand in the bathroom later thinking of this moment.” you let the weight of his cock sit in your hand for just a few seconds before running your thumb along the head, smearing precum all over it.

‘how does he even hide this thing?’ you think, you watch as his eyes squeeze shut, lashes wet. “it’s— it’s too much— i can’t think—”

you keep stroking him with that same unhurried rhythm, long, flowing drags of your hand that make his cock twitch and leak steadily over your fingers. the wet sounds are soft but obscene in the quiet dorm, mixing with every shaky breath he tries to swallow down. his head stays bowed, glasses completely fogged, fluffy hair falling into his eyes as another broken whimper slips free—high and trembling, the kind that settles hot and greedy between your thighs.

you’re soaked. panties sticking to your cunt uncomfortably. the ache has turned into a deep, insistent throb, and every little sound he makes only makes it worse.

you release his length with a slick pop, watching the way it slaps back against his stomach, flushed dark and glistening. before he can even catch his breath you swing one leg over his lap, straddling him right there on the edge of the bed. the oversized hoodie rides up your hips, your soaked panties brushing against his length as you settle your weight on his thighs.

jo jolts, hands flying up to hover uselessly at your waist. “w-wait—oh my go—” you can see the panic in his eyes, but still you reach down, tugging your panties to the side with one hand while guiding the head of his cock to your dripping entrance with the other. the blunt pressure against your folds makes you both moan—yours low and hungry, his startled and sweet. “are you a virgin, jo?”

“n-no…” he whispers, voice so small it almost disappears. “not… not exactly. i don’t have a lot of experience.” the color from his ears have crawled down to his neck, body burning red.

“great.” you grin.

then you sink down slowly, the tip catches around your walls instantly—the stretch burns in the best way — thick, hot, perfect. inch by inch he fills you until you’re seated fully on his cock, your ass flush against his thighs. his head falls back against the wall with a broken, high-pitched whine that goes straight to your already throbbing clit. his hands finally land on your hips, fingers trembling as they dig in just enough to feel.

“oh—oh fuck—you’re so warm—so tight—i can’t—hah—nghh—” his voice cracks on every word, hips giving one involuntary twitch upward that pulls a soft moan from your throat.

the moment he bottoms out, you lift yourself up until just the head stretches your entrance, then slam back down, taking every hefty inch in one slick, wet motion. the sound of skin slapping skin echoing sharply in the small dorm room, loud and filthy. a broken greedy moan falls from your lips—overwhelmed by the stretch.

jo’s eyes fly open wide, a shocked, broken cry tearing from his throat. “ahh—! wait— too fast—oh my god—hah—ahh—!” his hands clutch desperately at the skin of your hips, not stopping you, just holding on like he might fall apart if he lets go. every bounce punches a new pretty moan out of him—high, desperate, overwhelmed sounds that make your pussy clench tighter around his length—cock dragging perfectly against your walls on every upstroke, hitting deep on every downstroke, the wet squelch of your slick coating him growing louder with every thrust.

“fuuck—you feel so good,” you gasp, voice rough with hunger as you slam down again and again. “such a big cock and you barely even know how to use it yet. my shy little tutor with hardly any experience…getting his dick ridden like a toy. that’s what you are, right? my personal dildo.”

jo sobs beneath you, head falling forward against your chest, glasses fogged and crooked. “it’s—it’s too much—i can’t think—hah—you’re bouncing so hard i’m gonna—nghhh—slow down—ahh—!”

you don’t slow down.

even as jo’s hands tighten on your hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh with a high pitched whine that vibrates through his chest, you ride him faster. your hips snap down harder, ass jiggling with every harsh bounce.

the wet, obscene sound of your soaked cunt swallowing his thick cock fills the small room—loud and filthy.. every time you slam down, your swollen clit grinds roughly against his pelvis, sending sharp, electric sparks shooting up your spine and making your toes curl.

“oh god—y/n…” jo’s voice cracks, the usual soft shyness fracturing into something raw and desperate. “you’re— ah— you’re gonna make me cum if you keep— nngh—”

“o-oh yea? wanna cum?” you pant against his ear, never missing a beat as you keep bouncing on his cock like you own it.

a wrecked sob rips from his throat. he lifts his head from your chest slightly before nodding frantically, tears slipping down his flushed cheeks. “y-yes—please—i’m so close— it feels too good— i don’t know how long i can last—”

his voice cracks on the last word, trembling with the effort of holding back. his cock throbs hard inside you, twitching violently with every harsh bounce of your hips. you can feel how close he is—the way his length pulses and leaks inside your dripping cunt, the way his balls draw tight beneath you.

you grin down at him, wicked and breathless, eyes gleaming with pure, filthy satisfaction. sweat clings to your skin, you deliberately slow for one torturous second—just to hear him whimper—then slam down especially hard, taking him to the hilt in one brutal drop. you grin, wicked and breathless, slamming down especially hard. “good. gotta make me cum first though.”

the command pulls another high, desperate whine from him. even with his limited experience, even while he’s being overwhelmed by the intensity of you bouncing on him, jo tries. his hands slide to your waist, thumbs pressing into your skin as he starts thrusting up to meet your bounces—clumsy at first, then steadier, focused only on making it feel better for you.

“hah—y/n… i can’t—i need you closer—” he whimpers against your skin, voice high and trembling with pure desperation.

his long body collapses against yours, chest pressing flush to your breasts, arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. the shift in angle forces his cock even deeper inside you, making both of you moan loudly. his glasses dig awkwardly into your shoulder, completely fogged and crooked, but he doesn’t care. he just clings to you like he’ll fall apart if he lets go.

“so—deep—nghh… gonna make you cum—” he whimpers against your skin, voice high and trembling with desperation. his hips start moving again on their own—shallow at first, then harder, more urgent. he’s fucking you in this messy, needy missionary position now, body draped completely over yours, every thrust deep and desperate.

you moan at the position change, legs wrapping high around his waist to pull him even deeper. “fuck— that’s it, pretty boy. couldn’t even stay sitting up, huh? my cute little dormmate is so needy he just had to fall on top of me like a desperate slut.”

he sobs at the words that slip from your mouth, the degradation making his cock twitch violently inside you. his thrusts turn harder, the wet slap of his hips against your ass growing louder and filthier in the quiet dorm room. the squelch of your soaked pussy and his earlier load is loud and obscene with every deep stroke.

“ahh—! too much—nngh—you’re so wet—need to cum oh god—” he cries out, voice cracking. his hot, panting breaths fan against your neck as he ruts into you, clumsy but eager, long cock dragging perfectly against your walls on every pull back only to slam deep again.

you dig your nails into his back, grinning meanly even as pleasure sparks up your spine. “pathetic. such a big cock and you fuck like a desperate virgin who can’t control himself. bet you jerked off every night in your bed thinking about being on top of me like this, didn’t you?—sweet shy boy secretly wants to be used.”

he lets out a wrecked sob against your neck, the words hitting him hard. his arms tighten around your waist like a vice, pulling you even closer as if he can disappear into you. “y-yes—i did—almost every night—hah—ahh—i’m sorry—i’m such a loser—” his voice cracks into a high whine as his hips suddenly snap harder—fucking you with renewed desperation long, forceful thrusts that slam deep, the wet slap of skin on skin turning louder and messier.

his long cock drags perfectly against your walls before bullying its way back in, forcing your combined wetness to squelch obscenely around him with every brutal stroke. the bed creaks rhythmically under the force of it, his full weight pressing you into the mattress as he clings to you.

“ahh—! y/n—you are— so tight—sucking me in—” jo whimpers, tears soaking your shoulder. his glasses are completely useless now, fogged and crooked, digging into your skin, but he doesn’t stop. he just ruts into you harder, hips losing any sense of rhythm as pure need takes over. every deep thrust grinds his pelvis against your swollen clit, sending sharp sparks shooting up your spine.

you moan loudly, nails raking down his back as your legs lock tighter around his waist. “that’s it— uck me harder, you needy little slut. use that big dumb cock and make your dormmate cum. be a good boy.”

the degradation makes him whine loudly, but it also spurs him on. jo’s thrusts turn punishing—harder, faster, more desperate. he’s no longer trying to be careful or precise; he’s just slamming into you with everything he has, clumsy and uncoordinated but so fucking deep it makes your toes curl. his hot, panting breaths turn into broken sobs against your neck with every snap of his hips.

“i’m trying—hah—i’ll make you cum—please cum on my cock—i need to feel it—nngh—!” his voice is hoarse and trembling, high-pitched and wrecked. sweat slicks his skin, making your bodies sticky with sweat beneath your clothes. his arms stay wrapped tight around you, holding you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded while he pounds into your soaked cunt. you can feel how his glasses dig into your skin.

your orgasm building fast from the relentless pace—the tip of his cock hitting that perfect spot over and over, the wet filthy sounds, the way he’s whimpering and clinging to you like a desperate animal.

“i–i’m close—oh my g—jo—don’t stop—harder—” gasping, you fisting his hair while the other digs into his ass cheek, urging him deeper. he nods frantically against your neck, sobbing as he obeys. he fucks you even harder, hips snapping with wet, brutal slaps, his cock driving deep again and again until the coil in your belly finally snaps.

you cum with a loud, broken moan, walls clamping down around his throbbing length like a vice. pleasure crashes through you in waves, your pussy fluttering—the moment he feels you cumming around him, he lets out a shattered, high-pitched cry. “y/n—ahh—! i’m—i’m cummin—nghh—can’t hold it—!”

his hips stutter violently as he buries himself as deep as he can go. his solid length pulses hard inside you, flooding your already soaked pussy with syrupy, hot ropes of cum. he cums right after you, just like you wanted—long, shuddering spurts that mix with your release and his load, making everything even messier. his whole body trembles on top of you, weak little thrusts continuing as he rides out the overwhelming pleasure, whimpering and sobbing into your neck the entire time.

when the waves finally start to fade, he stays collapsed on top of you, completely spent. his arms are still wrapped tightly around your waist, face buried in your neck as he pants hot, shaky breaths against your skin. his cock is still twitching weakly inside your cum-filled cunt, warm seed slowly leaking out around where he’s buried deep.

he lets out a tiny, embarrassed whine, voice hoarse and small. “i… i came right after you again…i’m sorry…it just felt too good when you squeezed me like that…”

you stroke his back slowly, feeling how the sweat has soaked through his sweater—a mean little smirk on your lips even as you press a soft kiss to the side of his head. “so cute… couldn’t even wait two seconds once i started cumming. you did good though, jojo. you made me cum just like i told you to. maybe i should reward you again.”

© smidare 2026ㅤ ❤︎ㅤ likes & reposts r appreciated!

you let out a sigh as you look over your painfully bare apartment. you didn't have much that you owned anymore. only your clothes and a few heirlooms. everything else your ex husband took in the divorce. you know you could've fought for the things you bought, but you honestly didn't care anymore. he wasn't worth the fight, and you didn't have the energy to deal with him anymore.

the apartment you got was small- only a one bedroom. but to you it was perfect. it was far away from him, and for the first time since you were 18, you were free. it almost didn't feel real, and you didn't have any idea what you were supposed to do anymore. but at least you weren't fully alone.

"oh, yn." you turn, watching as your cousin looks around the bare apartment. she lived in the same complex as you, having begged you to move close to her ever since your divorce almost a year ago when you moved back in with your parents. "we've got some work to do with this place. what kind of style are we going for?"

you shrug your shoulders, not sure of what you wanted. "i don't know. i have no clue how to decorate."

"what are you talking about?" she questions. "you're literally the one who i facetimed the entire time i was picking out furniture for my place."

you chew your lip as you shrug again. "that was you. i know you and what you like. i- i don't know what i like anymore."

"come here." you barely have time to more closer to her before she pulls you into a hug. "it's okay. we have all the time in the world to decorate. you have a bed. you have a desk for your job. we can figure out everything else later."

"you always know what to say."

"i know. it's a talent." you laugh as you pull away from her. "now, lets you unpacked, so we can get something to eat. i know jo is just dying to meet you."

the new few days were mostly uneventful. you didn't leave your apartment much, perks of working from home. you did try to spend some time online shopping for your place, but every time you stopped before you could even get started.

your cousin was right. you were good at decorating. your whole family used to ask you for your opinions when they were remodeling. you loved it, and you were responsible for decorating your house that you and your ex moved into. you thought it was perfect, straight out of your dream. but he hated it, and he made sure to let you know every day how much he couldn't stand having to live there with it being decorated like a 'circus.'

eventually, he had said enough that you had also grown to hate it. and now, you were scared of decorating your place because what if you hated it just like you hated your last place? what if you decorate, and somehow that reminds you of your past with him? at least now being bare and plain, it reminded you nothing of the place you lived in.

you didn't tell your cousin this, but she could tell that something was up. so she told you that the two of you were going to go shopping this afternoon after you got off work. you checked you reflection, smoothing over your dress before putting on your sweater. you met her down stairs, and she was excited, hopeful that the two of you would find something.

and three hours later, the two of you were sitting on your new couch while eating take out your cousin had delivered. "honestly, i think this went better than expected."

you nod your head in agreement. along with the couch, you bought a coffee table along with an actual dinner table and chairs. they were all neutral, which is something you strayed from in the past. but right now, it was exactly what you wanted. "it still feels a little bland. maybe i can find something to brighten it up."

"maybe some plants." your cousin mentioned before correcting herself. "fake plants that is. we don't need you killing anything."

"rude."

"it's not rude if it's the truth."

you roll your eyes as you pack up your containers. "i've been meaning to ask you. you said you had some friends who were tattoo artists, right?"

"i do." she answered. "looking for some new ink?"

"i want to get the one's i have covered up." you tell her.

"why?"

"because all 4 of them are about moments with him." you answer. your hand finds the one on your wrist, one of your most visible ones. it was a ice cream cone. "our first date was to get ice cream. the one on my thigh was a photo of the roses he gave me when he proposed. and lets not forget the date of our wedding tattooed on my ribs. all stupid mistakes i would like to forget."

"then we'll get them covered." she says softly. you were grateful that she was so understanding with you. never judging and always patient. "fuma is the one who specializes in cover ups. i'll see if he's down for a new client."

you nod before glancing down at your lap. "he won't ask questions, will he?"

"no." her response was instant. "if there's anyone you don't have to worry about trying to get in your business, it's fuma. you're safe with him."

"then let's hope he's willing to take me."

you could barely contain your nerves as you walked into the tattoo shop. even though you have plenty of tattoos, for some reason the thought of covering them up scared you. maybe it's the fact that it means you're moving on from the part of your life even if you felt far from that.

you had spoken to fuma a couple of times- each somehow going better than the last. you could tell that he knew what he was doing, even going as far as triple checking that you were okay with the design he had come up with to cover up the tattoo on your wrist.

the bell above the door chimes as you step into the shop, only taking a few steps before being greeted by a guy behind the counter. he was tall, slim with a bright smile as he greeted you. "hi, i'm euijoo- the owner. do you have an appointment?"

you nod your head, going to speak, but someone else did instead. "she's with me."

you turn to see someone stand up before making their way towards you. he was tall, dark hair falling into his eyes. he would've looked intimidating if you're cousin wouldn't have warned you. he also had a small smile as he greeted you. "yn, right?"

"yes." you answer, shaking his outstretched hand. "and you're fuma?"

he nods before leading the way to his station. "you know. you're cousin threatened me when she told me you were looking for an artist. told me if i didn't take care of you, she was going to run me over with her car."

"she's always been protective." you mention as you sit down. fuma sits down in front of you as he finishes setting up his things.

"i know you have a couple of tattoos, so you're familiar with the whole process." you nod your head at his words. "cover ups sometimes hurt more than the first tattoo. i'm not too worried about this one because of the spot and size, but if you need me to stop at any point, just tell me."

"got it."

he moves his chair closer to you, gently taking your wrist before looking at the tattoo. his thumb brushes over the ink, no doubt feeling your racing pulse since your tattoo sits right on top of it. "you know, i didn't know what to expect when you said it was an ice cream cone, but this is kind of cute."

"you think so?" you ask with a small laugh. you didn't think he would find a small tattoo like this cute. it reminds you of how you felt when you got the tattoo. now all you felt when you looked at it was dread. you couldn't even eat ice cream anymore without thinking of that day you wished never happened.

"the lines are clean, so this is going to be easy to cover." he said more to himself as he started to clean your wrist before placing the new stencil. it was something simple- some butterflies that will wrap around your wrist. once you were happy with the placement, he got started, making sure you were okay once again before you felt the needle touch your skin. "what made you decide to cover this?"

you hesitate for just a second too long for him not to notice before shrugging it off like it didn't matter, ignoring the feeling of his dark eyes on you. "i just don't like it anymore. things change."

when he pauses for a moment, you took the chance to glance at your wrist. you could already see your tattoo being covered by the new one, forcing you to fight a chill as it ran down your spine. you knew that you ex would throw a fit if he knew you were covering them- even though he wasn't a big fan of them in the first place.

"are you cold?" you blink, looking up at fuma's face as he turns back towards you. his eyes glance down at your legs where you were pulling down your dress. you shake your head.

"no, i'm okay." he didn't listen to your answer, moving behind you to where his jacket was hanging up before draping the denim over your legs. you could still feel the warmth from when he was wearing it- the feeling of it grounding you. "thank you."

"of course." he smiles before going back to your tattoo. "i keep telling them they're going to have to stock this place with blankets if they keep it any colder in here."

the rest of the appointment passed by in a blur. he kept quiet, quietly sensing that was what you wanted. you rest your head back against the chair, closing your eyes to distract yourself from not just your cover up but the man that was doing it.

you felt stupid. you were in no place to be attracted to someone. you were still learning how to be by yourself and free. you couldn't be tied down again, even if you had a feeling that fuma was the furthest thing from your ex.

"all done."

you open your eyes right as he finished cleaning your skin. you pull your wrist closer to you, looking at how the tattoo perfectly covers your last one. if you didn't know better you would've never guessed you had a tattoo underneath it.

"i... i like it."

he smiled as he watched you look at your tattoo. "i'm glad. it suits you."

he wraps your wrist carefully before explaining how to take care of the tattoo. even though you were familiar with how, you still found yourself listening along to every word he was saying. he even helps you stand up before leading you over to the front desk, giving you a small card with his number on it.

"this is my number. let me know when you're ready for another session."

you nod, slipping the card into your bag. "i will. thank you."

"of course. take care of yourself."

"i will." you say your goodbye before you leave the shop. as you walk out of the shop, you feel like a weight has been lifted off your chest. you knew you still had a lot to go with yourself along with these tattoos you wanted gone, but this felt like a good start.

"i'm so happy you agreed to come tonight."

you smile at your cousin as she wraps her arm around yours. it didn't take much convincing from her to drag you out here. you used to come to her races a lot when she was just getting started. of course that changed when you got into your trainwreck of a relationship, but you were ready for things to go back to the way they were before.

you tug the leather jacket she let you borrow closer to you. "of course. you know how much i love watching you race."

"hell yeah." she exclaims. "you're going to be my charm tonight."

you raise your brows. "i thought that was jo's job?"

"not tonight. tonight is about my girl finally coming back to me." you roll your eyes but don't argue with her. "speaking of, it's time for you to meet the rest of the group."

she drug you over to where her friends were all conversing. the first person you noticed was fuma as he was talking to your cousin's boyfriend. he somehow looked even better than in the shop, wearing a cut up tank that left his tattooed arms fully on display along with small glimpses of his chest.

it had been 2 weeks since your tattoo session, and you have been itching to text him about another session. you didn't want to seem too desperate to cover your work, even though you were, so you were trying to space it out. you also just wanted to talk to him and maybe have an actual conversation, but you thought that that would be too inappropriate. he only gave you his number for professional reasons, not personal.

your cousin introduced you to everyone, or at least she tried to because you forgot their names right after. you knew though with how your cousin planned to drag you to everything you would learn everyone soon enough. after introductions, people spread out for the racing. your cousin left you and her boyfriend on the edge of the track for her races. you were in a conversation with him and harua when you felt someone brush against your arm.

"i see she finally convinced you to come." you look up as fuma leans against the railing to you. "she had been talking about you coming all week."

"i used to love coming to her races. i was there when she first started out." you tell him.

"why did you stop?" you shrug at fuma's question.

"i moved away too far to see her very often."

fuma let out a hum. "why did you move back?"

you were almost caught off guard at his question. you knew that neither your cousin or jo had told them anything about your divorce, and you would like that to be kept a secret for as long as you could. it was something you were ashamed of, marrying someone too fast and not being able to make it work out. all of your family aside from your cousin never let you forget your mistake of divorcing him because they were all in love with him. it was always your fault.

"change." you answered. "i needed something different i guess."

"well, so far it looks really good on you." you snap your head up to see him looking at your wrist where your tattoo was healing. "she's looking good."

you blink, looking down at your tattoo. "thanks. i've been meaning to get with you to set up another appointment."

"well, i'm ready whenever you are."

you nod your head before turning back to the race, keeping your eyes on your cousin as she was in the lead by a long shot. you celebrated with jo for her win though it didn't surprise either one of you that she had won. she ran over, throwing herself into jo's arms before pulling you into a hug.

"celebration time." she said as she pulled away. "we're going to get some food, and you're coming."

you instantly shake your head. "i'm not third wheeling again."

"you're not. fuma agreed to come with us." jo said making your cousin look over at him.

"he actually agreed?"

he nodded. "if he didn't, i was going to ask one of the other guys. she literally threatened you last time that she wasn't third wheeling again."

"but jo, she didn't mean that."

"yes she did." you speak up for yourself. "there's no need for you two to rub your perfect relationship in my miserably single face."

you see a wave of guilt flash past her features before she recovers, knowing how you didn't want your ex brought up anymore. "i guess fuma can come along."

"i feel so special." fuma mumbled from your side, making you chuckle.

"you sound just as excited as i am."

he shrugged. "similar to you, i keep getting thrown into these third wheeling situations."

"that's because you're one of the only one's who doesn't have a girlfriend." your cousin told him, laughing when he glared at her. "now if you two are done sulking, let's go eat."

she drove you to her favorite place to eat after races- pizza. it was quiet considering it was a saturday night. a few teenagers were in the booths opposite of the side that your cousin chose. her and jo sit together right as you slide into the other booth. fuma waits for you before sitting next to you.

after your orders get taken, your cousin instantly draws you into a conversation which quickly turns into an argument about the best pizza toppings. you barely even notice how close fuma was to you. he had thrown his arm over the back of the booth- something that you had to try not to let affect you though he wasn't even touching you. you could also feel his gaze on you, but every time you would look his way, he had already looked away.

you all quieted down once your food came. that was until your cousin looked between you and fuma. "have you set up another appointment yet?"

"not yet." you answer first.

"have you decided what you wanted?" jo asked making your cousin groan.

"it's weird."

you roll your eyes with a scoff. "how the hell is a moth weird?"

"bugs are nasty." she shivered just thinking about them.

"for the last time, moths aren't bugs." you argue.

"why a moth?" jo asked. you think about it for a moment before shrugging- an action that you've grown way too used to.

you didn't want to go into depth about why you wanted a moth. much like your cousin, a lot of people found them ugly which was the complete opposite of what you thought. you found them pretty, even more so than butterflies. you also had found some articles about why people get moths tattooed, saying they symbolize change and hope- both of those things you felt like you needed to accomplish.

you finally settled on an easy answer. "i just like them."

"they age well." fuma spoke up for the first time since you've sat down. when you look at him, he points down to your leg where your other tattoo sits. "it'll cover that up nicely."

your cousin scoffs. "of course you would say that."

"well she is my client, not you." fuma smirks. "besides, wasn't it you who threatened me to take good care of her."

"jo, have i ever told you how much i don't like him." she muttered making you laugh. fuma looks over at you while your cousin complains to him.

"i have a couple of sketches i think you would like. i can send them to you."

you nod your head. "i'd like that."

the conversation moves on after that until you all left the pizza shop. your cousin dropped fuma off first before bringing the three of you back to your shared apartment building.

as soon as you stepped into your apartment, your phone dinged. when you looked, it was multiple sketches of moths- each one somehow better than the last. you pick out the one you like along with setting up an appointment with him. you went to bed excited about covering another tattoo, but also nervous because you didn't know how you were going to survive yet another session with him.

you could feel someone's eyes on you as you relaxed back onto the couch you were sitting on. you felt it multiple times but could never find anyone when you looked around, so you tried to ignore it. music blared loudly through the speakers to where you could hardly hear euijoo as he talked to you.

you weren't a big fan of parties. you used to, but they got tiring after your ex would drag you to one every weekend right after you started dating. but today was maki's birthday, and you couldn't say no when his girlfriend invited you. it seemed like half the racing scene was here as well. you were nursing a half empty drink that you had no intentions of finishing when you once again felt someone staring at you.

you let euijoo finish his story before you excused yourself, claiming you wanted another drink. you had just walked into the empty kitchen and threw away your drink when you heard footsteps behind you. you know who you wanted it to be when you turned around, but you were disappointed when it was some guy you've never seen before.

"was he really that boring that you had to run away from him?" he questioned with a laugh, no doubt referring to euijoo. you shrug, stepping back as he walks up to you.

"not as boring as watching someone who clearly isn't interested."

"ouch. that's a little cold, don't you think?" he questions jokingly, but the words hit harder than they should've.

"you're so fucking cold, yn."

"you're always making things difficult. it's like you want to make me hate you more than i already do."

your ex's words echo in your mind, almost trapping you back to that place that you fought so hard to leave. you were doing so well not thinking about him, and this random guy says one thing to you that's got you wanting to scream.

"what's going on?" you blink, recognizing the voice. you glance over at fuma who was looking at you with concern before glaring at the guy who was standing on the other side of the kitchen.

you didn't even wait for his response before leaving the room, needing a minute to recompose yourself. you escape up the stairs before opening one of the bedroom doors, slamming it shut before pacing the room.

you felt stupid knowing that the past still bothers you. you've been free of your ex for the past year, and it sucks knowing something so simple as a few words can send you right back to him. you wish there was something to make you forget the past 4 years- some way to leave every argument and self doubt in the past.

you hear a soft knock on the door, making you feel dread because you just wanted to be alone. "come in."

the door opens as fuma enters the room. it had been two weeks since you'd seen fuma at the tattoo shop where you now had another mistake covered up with something of your own. that session was a lot different than the first one, and you couldn't tell why. maybe because it was in one of the private rooms where it was just you and him. or maybe it was him not even asking, just covering your body with his jacket again, claiming it was colder back there than it was out front.

since you two were more familiar with each other, there was actual conversation between you two, or at least as much as you could manage. it wasn't that you were in any pain. in fact, you could barely feel the tattoo. the only thing you felt were fuma's hands, gently digging into your thigh. you almost called it quits a couple of times because you couldn't get your mind to stop running, wanting desperately to feel more of his hands touching you.

you know you shouldn't. not only is he your tattoo artist, but you're still healing from your divorce. you didn't feel like you were capable of feelings for anyone other than you- though the longer he touched you, the more you wanted to change your mind. and to make things worse, you had already scheduled your next appointment for two days from now.

"you okay?" he asked, keeping his distance by the door in case you didn't want him in there.

"yeah." you lie, before shaking your head and deciding to be honest. "no. it's- i'm just being stupid."

he lets out a small hum that sounds like he's scolding you. "yn, the last thing you are is stupid."

"you're giving me too much credit." you scoff, quicly motioning to the two tattoos he's already fixed. "who else gets tattoos because of their ex?"

"a lot of people." he answers.

"great, so i'm not the only stupid one." you let out a sad laugh as you throw yourself back onto the bed. your dress shifts, riding up your thighs, but it wasn't anything he hadn't seen before when he tattooed you.

"you're not stupid." he argues, finally moving to sit on the bed next to you. "you just trusted someone you thought you could. there's nothing wrong with that."

"great life strategy." you cough out a laugh. "where were you 4 years ago?"

"probably in my own horrible relationship." he answers making you look over at him. "so what's the strategy now?"

you shrug. "i don't know. nothing complicated at least."

"i can work with that." he says making you tilt your head, trying to figure out if his words meant what you think it did. you didn't know if you were reading too much into his words. did he mean it like a friend, or the that the tension you were feeling maybe wasn't one sided?

"you can work with that?" you question carefully.

"yes." he says with a small smirk before glancing down at your lips for a second. "don't think i haven't noticed how you act around me."

your jaw drops at the bluntness of his words. "excuse me?"

"the way you kept looking for me down stairs." he says, confirming it was him looking at you. "the way you tense up as soon as i touch you during sessions."

you felt you face flush as you became desperate to change the subject. "wait... that's-"

"not a bad thing." fuma says quickly, making you go quiet again. "just an observation."

"you're making a lot of assumptions." you tell him making him shrug.

"probably, but i'm not wrong."

he got you there because he wasn't. you just didn't like how obvious you have apparently been. you knew he was quiet and observant, but for some reason, you didn't think that would involve him calling you out. you cross your arms as you finally pull your gaze away from him. "so what are you saying?"

"what i'm saying is if you want something simple with no strings attached, i wouldn't be opposed to that." your head snapped towards his, eyes wide. he just looked at you with the same look he always did- the one you could never decipher.

"like just for tonight?"

he shrugged. "if you want, or we can go as long as you want. you make the rules."

that last sentence caught your attention. "i make the rules? what about you?"

"what about me? the only thing i'm going to be doing is getting you out of your head. however that may be." he answered honestly.

"i never thought when i met you would you offer something like this." you said making him chuckle. "it won't get messy, will it?"

fuma shook his head. "no. we'll stop if it does. this is supposed to be simple. no strings. no feelings."

"then my answer is yes." you tell him.

you don't know what was going to happen between the two of you, but you couldn't help but say yes. you have spent weeks wanting to know what he felt like, pinning you down with his large hands. you just weren't sure if you could handle the feeling side yet, so fuma saying that there would be none helped you.

he shifted closer to you, bringing his hand up to run along your lips. "are you sure?"

"i am."

after he knew that you were sure, he dipped his head down, capturing your lips with his. you gasp at the bold move, but you don't hesitate to kiss him back, hands moving up to grip his jacket. this kiss wasn't gentle by any means. it's firm, almost claiming as his arm snaked around your waist, tugging you onto his lap. he gripped your thighs, fingers digging into your skin as you straddled him.

you still couldn't believe that you were here, straddling fuma while he kisses you like you've never been kissed before. he seemed to know exactly what you needed to get yourself out of your head and relaxing into his arms. you could already tell by this one kiss that this whole supposedly not complicated situation was going to be a mess, but with the way he was kissing you, you really didn't care.

his hand pressed into your lower back before pulling your chest flush against his. the action had you brushing against his jeans- an action that had you gasping into his mouth. he caught it, smirking as he pulled away from you.

"oh? did you like that?" he questioned, lips grazing along your jaw. you nod before tilting your head, exposing more of your neck to him. his teeth graze the lobe of your ear, making you jump as he lightly bites it. "then do it again."

his hands grip your waist as your hips move, slowly dragging your aching core over his jeans once again. he hums in your ear when you let out a soft sound that was almost covered by the music blaring downstairs as he could slowly feel the tension leaving your body with every drag of your hips.

"that's it. keep going." he helps guide you when your rhythm falters, tightening occasionally when you call out his name. "you're doing so good for me."

"fuck fuma." your face flushes at his words, but the both of you could tell how much you liked it based on your hips speeding up, desperate for some relief. you were so wound up, going for so long without any proper relief, so it didn't take you long for your orgasm to build.

he could tell you were getting close. your sounds becoming more frequent along with your hands fisting his shirt. you could feel it building in your stomach, so close when you heard someone bang on the door followed by maki calling fuma's name.

you nearly freeze when fuma's hands keep you moving. "fuma-"

"don't stop." he commands. "the door's locked. they can't get in here."

"but they're right outside." your voice comes out in a whine making him chuckle.

"then you better be quiet." he smirks before glancing back at the door. "what do you want, maki?"

"dude, talk to the birthday boy with some respect." you hear maki's muffled answer through the door. "beer pong. you promised."

"give me 5 minutes." he says, ignoring the groan from maki as he looks back at you. "you can give me what i want in 5 minutes, can't you?"

you nod, gasping when you feel fuma's hand disappear under your dress. his fingers finds your clit, pushing down until you moan his name as he rubs the aching bud. you squirm in his arms causing his other arm to leave your waist before wrapping around your back, pulling you flush against him.

he shushes you with his lips. "quiet. you don't want maki to hear you, do you?"

"fuma... please." you whine against his lips. he could feel your body going tense with your soon release causing him to speed up his fingers. his arm wraps around your body, keeping you still while you squirm in his arms.

"let go." his words were all you needed to your release to hit you. your arms wrapped around him as you bury your head in his shoulder, trying to keep quiet. "such a good girl, aren't you?"

you weakly shove his shoulder as you pull away from him. "stop."

"why? you seemed to like it earlier." his words made you blush again. "are you okay?"

"i'm more than okay." you answer which was the truth.

you felt lighter- like a weight had been lifted off your chest. maybe it was the fact that you finally had a decent release, or maybe it was the fact that you were finally with someone else. you hadn't been with anyone since the divorce. it wasn't that you were reminiscing about him or wanting him back, you just didn't want to go through the hassle of having to explain everything to someone new.

you jump when you hear maki slam on the door again. "you're 5 minutes are up!"

"i hate him." fuma says making you chuckle. you climb out of his lap, fixing your dress as you sit back on the bed. "do you want me to walk you back down?"

"i'm just going to stay up here for a little while longer." you answer him.

he nods, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "i'll see you monday."

he leaves you alone in the bedroom, making sure to lock the door, so no one else could come in. you let out a low groan as you throw yourself back onto the bed.

"simple my ass."

the next two days were a lot more difficult to get through than you thought they would be. you found yourself thinking back to that bedroom, itching to text fuma again. each time you would stop yourself because you didn't want to seem desperate- even though you knew you were.

the shop was nearly empty when you stepped in, something you knew wasn't uncommon on a monday. you would almost think it was closed until someone stuck their head out from the piercing room.

"oh, hey yn." she greeted. she was one of your cousin's friends and was dating one of the racers she worked with. "you here for another coverup?"

you nod your head. "yeah, is fuma here?"

"he's setting up the private room." she answered before moving closer to you. "so what happened at the party last week?"

your eyes widen slightly before you could stop them. she couldn't know what happened at the party, could she? you knew that fuma wouldn't tell anyone because he was just as secretive, if not more than you were. "what do you mean?"

"k and i left early, and i heard it got crazy afterwards. apparently maki and yuma got in some sort of beer pong war, and they dragged fuma and nicho into it." she explained as she leaned back against the counter. you nodded, somewhat relieved at her answer.

"oh, i left early. i know maki was looking for fuma when i left."

you watch as her brows twitch slightly. "you didn't stay for fuma's game?"

"why would i?" you throw back before you could even think about it, making her chuckle like she knew something you didn't.

"because i heard he kicked their asses. nicho said he looked mad."

"i wasn't mad." you nearly jump at the voice, turning to see fuma walking towards you two. you nearly miss it when fuma's gaze slowly rakes down your body, making you shuffle on your feet.

"you sure about that?" she questioned with a smirk. "the video euijoo took says something different. you want to see it yn?"

you open your mouth to agree, but fuma stops her. "you do know she's here to get a tattoo, right? stop distracting her."

"you're no fun." she pouts, sliding her phone back into her pocket, but not before you felt your phone vibrate. you felt yourself smile when she winks at you. "i'll leave you to mr. grouch. maybe you'll lighten him up some."

fuma rolls his eyes as she disappears back into her piercing studio before turning to you. "come on."

you follow after him as he leads you to one of the private rooms. you weren't too sure why you had a private room considering this tattoo was on your shoulder, but you weren't going to question him. he knew what he was doing after all. you take a seat on the chair as he closes the door behind you, moving closer after he does so.

"you feeling okay, yn?" you meet his eyes at his question, hating that you could tell he already knew the answer to that. he shouldn't be able to read you that well considering how little you knew each other.

"i feel like i should be asking you that. you seemed a little tense out there." you tell him, avoiding the question.

"i'm fine." he answers, turning to finish setting up his station. "now, answer my question."

"why didn't you want me to watch that video? is it bad?" you question, curiosity getting the best of you. you look down to pull your phone out of your pocket, so you couldn't see him glance back at you.

"it's not bad."

you pulled up the video before turning your phone towards him, showing him that she had sent it to you. "so i can watch it then?"

"yn..."

"fuma." you mock him when he trails off. you don't know where this whole teasing thing came from. maybe it was because you had seen him look annoyed many times before at other people, and you wanted to see what it was like. or maybe it was just that he looked hot when he was annoyed. "just tell me no, and i'll delete it."

he lets out a sigh, leaning against the counter as he watches you with a growing familiar dark gaze. you didn't think he was going to answer you at first.

"no."

"that wasn't too hard, was it?" you tell him before looking back down at your phone to delete the video. you can still feel his gaze on you making you smile. "oh, and i'm doing good. thanks for asking."

"phone." he says making you look over at him.

"what?" you glance down at his outstretched palm before meeting his gaze again. "seriously?"

he doesn't answer, just keeping his hand open until you hand it over with a sigh. he sets it down on the counter before turning back to you with the stencil in his hand. "stand up."

you immediately do as he says, doing your best to stay still as his hands brush your skin, moving your hair out of the way. he pulls the strap of your dress down before trailing his hand along your existing tattoo- a set of coordinates. it was the location of your house. the one you dreamed of having and decorating. the house your ex made you despise.

you fought a shiver, something that fuma noticed. "you okay?"

"i'm fine." you answer, voice sounded more quiet than before. he noticed you playing with the edge of your dress- a nervous habit he's picked up on.

"you're thinking too much." you blink, looking over your shoulder and meeting his gaze. he taps at your skin where the tattoo is. "this doesn't have to mean anything anymore. you can let it go."

you nod before looking away from him, letting him do his job. he places the stencil over the coordinates, letting you check the placement before you he gets started. just like the other two times, he positions you the way he needs before he gets started. you feel the familiar sting of the needle as he starts, nodding when he asks you if you're doing okay.

you're not though. not when you could feel every time his eyes flicker up to your face. not when his hands are on you, constantly moving and touching you. even though it's completely professional, it doesn't feel like that. all you could think about was the other night. the way his hands gripped you hard enough to almost leave bruises. the way his eyes never left you.

you were so distracted, it took you a moment to realize that fuma had stopped tattooing you. you tilt your head towards him, sitting up slightly to see him staring at you. "you're not done already, are you?"

"you're stuck again." his words made you confused.

"i'm stuck where?" you ask, eyes widening when he sits his tattoo gun down before leaning towards you. his hand brushed your jaw as his index finger taps your temple.

"in here." he answers, making your mind go back to the other night- him promising that he just wanted to keep you out of your head. "do you need me to help you now, or can you be patient and wait until i'm done?"

your mouth dries as you look at him. you wanted nothing more than for him to help you now, but you knew what he wanted your answer to be. "i can wait."

"good." he hums, moving away from your face, picking up his tattoo gun and finishing the tattoo like nothing was wrong. it was almost like he didn't realize what his words did to you, but with the way his grip tightens, jaw tight with tension, he did.

you thought that time was passing by slow before. now it was just torturous. you were now hyper focused on every movement he made, and at some points it just seemed like he was teasing you, touching you far away from where you knew that tattoo was. there was even a point that he moved your hair out of the way, and you knew it wasn't because you had it tucked where it wouldn't disturb him.

you opened your eyes as soon as you heard him turn off the tattoo gun, wiping clean your back before leaning too close for the words he was about to say. "go tell me what you think."

you get up, ignoring the way your legs shook as he stared at you. you walk over to the floor length mirror before glancing over your shoulder, seeing a compass where the coordinates was once visible. you felt another weight disappear as there remain only one last reminder of your past- arguable the one that remains is the hardest to forget.

fuma returns to your side, motioning for you to turn towards the mirror. he covers your tattoo before meeting your gaze in the mirror. "you did good baby."

you feel your face flush at the nickname. you almost thought it was a slip, but you watched him smirk as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "you say that to all your clients?"

"no."

you try to turn in his hold, but his grip tightens preventing you from doing so. he kept his lips against your neck as his hand moved flat against your stomach, pulling you flush against him. your jaw dropped when you could feel him straining through his jeans showing he was clearly just as affected as you were.

"fuma-" you gasp as you feel his teeth nip at your skin, leaving red marks while traveling close to your ear- your breath catching when he bites your ear gently.

"do you want me to stop?" when he feels you shake your head, you're quckly turned around to face him, feeling the cold mirror when he pins you to it. you look up to meet his gaze. "think you can keep these pretty sounds to yourself?"

"yes. i'll be quiet." you say almost begging for him to keep going. he notices, smirking before leaning down. you thought he was going to kiss you, confusing you when he doesn't. instead his hands find your thighs, making you gasp when he suddenly lifts you into his arms like you weigh nothing. "fuma-"

just like before, he cut you off by kissing you. you've come to realize everything about him is intense, including his kissing. your hands find his shirt, gripping it as his tongue slips past your lips. you shiver as his hands explore you, drifting up your thighs before disappearing under your dress. his hands dig into your ass, making you moan quietly against his lips. as soon as he felt the vibration, his lips slowed down before he pulled away from you.

"is this what you needed?" his voice held a hint of teasing, watching your expression when his hips rolled into you. you tried to be quiet, biting your lip when he does it again. "answer me."

"yes." you whimper. "fuck fuma. i need you- please."

his eyes bore into yours as he leans closer to you. "grab your things."

"what?" your brows furrow as he sets you back down, making sure you were steady before moving to clean up his studio. he glances back at you, watching as you walk closer to him.

"i changed my mind. i don't want you to be quiet." his thumb brushed over your lips. "so if you need me to take care of you, grab your things and lets go."

the brief moment of thinking that he was rejecting you disappeared as you finally understand his words, biting back a smile as you grab your things. as soon as you put your phone in your pocket, fuma had grabbed your hand before dragging you out of the room. he led you through the back door and onto the sidewalk. you let him guide you blindly, only realizing when he led you into an apartment building that his place was very close to the tattoo shop.

before you could fully step into his apartment, he had you pinned against the wall, crashing his lips onto yours as he slams the door shut with his foot. you melt into him, wrapping your arms around his neck when his once again lifts you into his arms. he slowed his pace from before but still kept intense enough to have you trying to hold back sounds.

you weren't doing a good job at that though because fuma's hands tightened, drawing a low moan from you. "you can be as loud as you want now. it's just you and me."

his lips found your neck as he moved through his apartment skillfully, teeth grazing the spot he knew made you squirm. you call out his name as he walks into the bedroom, keeping you on his lap as he sits down. you couldn't help but notice he liked this position, or whatever position that had your thighs wrapped around him.

he let his hand start to wonder as his lips continue to trail down your neck. you jerk in his hold when his hands slip under your dress, fingers grazing along your soaked underwear. "look at you. such a needy little thing, aren't you?"

his thumb pressed down on your clit, smirking when you moan his name as you rock your hips against his hand. he could feel you tense against him- desperate with need causing him to pull his hand away.

"lay down for me."

his hands lifted you up, helping guide you off hip lap. your back hit the mattress as you watch his eyes scan your body. your dress had ridden up, showing him the soft lace of your underwear along with a very clear damp spot.

once it seemed like he had memorized what you had looked like all desperate and needy for him, he moved closer to you, spreading your thighs as he towers over you. your hand wrapped around his neck when his lips crashed into yours, tongue immediately pushing past your lips.

his hands tugged at your dress, slowly sliding it up your hips and stomach before pulling away from you. "sit up."

he slipped the dress over your head, watching as your breast spring free as he notices that you weren't wearing a bra. you notice that he gaze drops, eyeing you in a way you haven't seen before. "fuma..."

"you okay?" he asks, eyes meeting yours as he leans close to you again. you nod your head, but that wasn't what he wanted. "words. use them."

"i'm okay. please keep going."

"good girl." he teases, kissing you before pulling away. "now just lay here and look pretty and let me take care of you."

your eyes widen slightly as you tried to relax against the pillow though it was hard to with the way he was staring at you. he dipped his head down pressing his lips to your racing pulse before trailing down your chest. his lips wrapped around your nipple, letting his tongue slowly circle over your nipple- hand squeezing your other breast.

"fuma." you moan, arching into his touch when his teeth graze over the sensitive bud. he does it again, letting his hands run down your stomach, slipping his hand into your underwear. "fuck."

you feel his chuckle vibrate against your skin as his lips leave your chest, admiring your now bruised skin before kissing down your stomach. "you're so sensitive and tense. when was the last time you let loose and let someone take care of you, baby?"

"i- i don't think you want the answer to that." you mumble, lifting your hips as he tugs your underwear down your legs. you didn't even want to think about it because the last time was never. your ex has never treated you like this. sex was always mediocre. but with fuma, he hasn't even started, and you were close to losing your mind.

he hummed as he kissed your thigh, feeling you jerk when he bites down. "are you going to let me fix that?"

"god- yes."

"good girl." he mumbled against your skin, heading towards the place you needed him the most. "all pretty and laid out for me."

you let out an almost pathetic whimper when you felt his tongue dart out, licking along your slit. you heard him let out a low sound- something you haven't heard before before he muttered something along the lines of 'so sweet.' his tongue mercilessly flicked your clit, putting just enough pressure to have you moaning out his name. he went at his own speed, ignoring your begs as he kept the same slow, lazy pace.

"you still doing okay?" he asks, barely taking enough time to take his mouth of you to ask the question. you open your mouth to answer when you felt his finger ease inside of you, moaning when you felt your walls stretch around him.

"god- fuma." you whine as he starts to move his finger, letting you adjust before sliding in another finger. "fuck."

"feel good, baby?"

"mhmm." you nod, face flushing when you glance down at him. his eyes were locked onto your face, watching your every reaction. you could see the slick on his face making fuma chuckle against you when you quickly looked away.

he wanted more from you. he wanted to see every little reaction- hear every little sound. his other hand wrapped around your waist, pushing down on your hips to keep you still as he sped his fingers up. he hears you choke out a moan when his fingers curl, doing it again until he found the spot that had your legs threatening to close around his head.

"fuma- please... please don't stop." he glanced up at your begging, seeing your eyes closed- head thrown back on the pillow. your fingers gripping the sheets tightly beneath you.

he could tell that you were close. his name was falling from your lips with every thrust of his fingers. your walls clenching around him. "are you going to come for me?"

"y-yes." you cry out, hand reaching and grabbing his wrist. "fuma- fuck. please."

"come for me, baby."

you don't think you've ever had a more intense orgasm. your eyes nearly roll back, every muscle clenching as it crashes into you. his name falls from your lips causing his hand to tighten around you. he lets you ride your orgasm before pulling his fingers out, cleaning you up with his tongue before moving back up your body.

you open your eyes when you feel him shift, seeing him looking down at you. you barely had a chance to breath before his lips were on yours. drawing a gasp from your lips. your arms wrapped around him, pulling him close to you.

"you still here?" fuma asks, lips brushing yours as he pulls away.

you nod, not being able to recall the last time you felt like this. your ex didn't even make you feel a fraction of what fuma did, and that scared you more than anything because things were supposed to be simple- not complicated. you didn't know if you wanted to take things further than this. you could hide behind this- whatever this was. but to take things further, it wouldn't be just sex for you, and that wouldn't be fair to him because you know how he feels.

you thought you felt the same, but you're starting to realize you never did. you are so attracted to the man above you, you've begun to question everything about yourself.

"we don't have to go any further." fuma says, making your jaw drop slightly. you really needed to get better at hiding what you were thinking. either that or he was just way too good at reading you. he moved, attempting to get off of you when you tightened your grip on him making him look at you.

"i want to help you too." you say, motioning to his erection that you could clearly see straining through his jeans.

"yn, you don't have to-"

"i want to." you say, interrupting him. he goes to open his mouth again, but you stop him again. "i wouldn't offer if i didn't want to, fuma. i want to make you feel good too."

he nods, moving away and sitting back on his heels. you watch as his hand goes to the bottom of his shirt, removing it in one swift motion. you jaw drops once again as your eyes run down his tattooed muscular chest, leaving you wondering what you did to have him above your right now.

"you're so unfair." you mutter, not realizing he can hear you until you hear him laugh. he leans back down, lips brushing your ear before kissing your cheek.

"you complaining?"

you don't even hesitate with your answer. "absolutely not."

you feel him smile against your skin before moving to capture your lips with his. you kiss him back, almost immediately getting lost him him to where you failed to realize his arms were wrapping around you. you let out a gasp when he lifts you into his arms before flipping the two of you over, so he was resting back against his headboard while you were straddling his hips.

"now i feel like you're bragging." you say, jumping when you feel him pinch your ass.

"i haven't even said anything." you roll your eyes at him when you see the smirk on his lips.

"you don't need to. i can see it on your face." you tell him before lifting up your arms, letting your fingers trail down his stomach. "and your body."

his hands wrap around your wrists, giving you a tug that had you falling into his chest before trapping you against him. "you talk a lot for someone who hasn't done anything. didn't you say you wanted to help?"

"you're real bossy today, aren't you?" you ignore his scoff as you sit back up, sliding off of his lap before settling in between his spread legs. he lifts up his hips when you unbutton his pants, sliding them down just enough to pull him out. you had a feeling he was on the larger size, but his actual size shocked you. "oh my god, fuma! how the hell is anyone supposed to compete with you?"

you look up at him to see his arms resting behind his head, looking at you with a smirk. "who said you had competition?"

you let out a scoff, trying desperately to ignore the way he said that. "someone's feeling cocky."

"am i wrong?"

you completely ignore his question, moving to wrap your hand around his shaft. you slowly pump your hand a few times before bending down, licking the precum that had leaked out before pulling him into your mouth. you feel his hand slide through your hair before resting on the base of your neck. he didn't guide you, letting you pick the pace just like he did.

you felt the stretch in your jaw as you slowly put as much of him as you could into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you did so. your hand wrapped around what didn't fit as you start to move your head. you felt his thighs tense beside you, a low groan sliding past his lips.

you felt a flutter at his reaction. he didn't seem like the person who was very vocal in bed, or just in general, so having him do so for you made you way too happy.

you don't go as slow as he did with you, but you did go slow enough to where you wouldn't gag which was easier said than done. every time you would, you could feel the slight jerk of his lips, like he was trying not to thrust up into your mouth.

"fuck." you look up when you hear him mumble under his breath. his head was tilted back, resting against his headboard. his eyes shut for just a moment, opening when he felt your eyes on him. "such a good girl, aren't you."

you feel yourself becoming turned on again at his words, clenching around nothing. you quickly look away, becoming focused on making him come- something you had a feeling was close. his body was way too tense, silently begging for release. you felt his hips jerk one last time before you feel him tug at your hair, pulling you off of him.

"fuma?" you look at him confused. you notice how fast his breathing is making you smirk now that you knew what he wanted. "where?"

he didn't answer, instead looking back down at your mouth. you nod before moving back, wrapping your lips back around him. you speed up your hand, letting it do most of the work while you suck on his sensitive head. you felt him jerk, hand tightening in your hair when your other hand wrapped around his balls- nails digging into the sensitive skin as you squeeze them.

you heard a moan so low, you almost didn't hear it before you felt his stomach tense. you felt his release hit the back of your throat making you gag, but you were determined to swallow every drop. you didn't move until you felt his hand pull you away from him before bringing you onto his lap.

his lips crash onto your, hand cupping your cheek as he pulls you flush against him. he lets the kiss be soft, softer than any of the previous ones. you feel your breath get trapped in your lungs when he has the same soft look in his eyes when he pulls away from you. "you good?"

"i am. you?" you nod, closing your eyes for a second when he leans up and pressing a kiss to your forehead. you don't even think before you rest your head on his shoulder, leaning into his warmth. once you realized what you did, you shifted to pull away only to be pulled back to where you were- his arms tightening around you.

his answer was the complete opposite of the situation you two had gotten yourselves into- simple.

"yeah."

the rest of the week drags on, seeming like it would never end. you knew why you wanted it to come sooner even though you didn't want to admit it. your cousin was racing tonight, and where she was, fuma was.

the two of you have messaged each other a couple of times over the last few days, but you haven't seen him since he gave you the best orgasm you've ever had. after he let you lay on his chest for way too long to be considered normal, he helped you get get dressed before walking you back to your car.

after you had left and just about every second you weren't distracting yourself, you were thinking about that afternoon. how good his hands and lips felt on you. how he made you feel like no one else ever has. you wanted to be with him again so bad, but you stopped yourself every time for one reason.

feelings.

you were pretty sure you were falling for your tattoo artist- the person who was just supposed to erase your mistakes. instead, he was helping you in ways you didn't think was possible. you didn't even know much about him. maybe that was part of his charm, or maybe he saw you in a way no one else has. since being with him, you haven't had a moment where your ex's negative words have entered your thoughts.

until tonight that is.

you didn't know what was wrong with you, but you just didn't feel comfortable in your body which was never an issue before your ex. you used to love your body, especially when you wore dresses. they just made you feel pretty until your ex ruined it. he always had to complain about something, and your body showed up more times than one.

you stopped wearing dresses for a while, but just recently got back into them. they were making you feel good about yourself- the tight waist before flowing to your thighs. but tonight when you put it on, all you could see was everything your ex used to point out.

that lead you to putting on something you hated which was jeans. you despised the tight itchy material, but that and the sweater you were wearing was the only things you had to cover your body. at least it was cold enough for no one to question you.

"how many times are you going to check your phone tonight?" you nearly startle, looking up at your cousin who was leaning on the car next to you. "who are you waiting to text you?"

"no one." you answer as you put your phone back in your pocket.

"you never were a good liar." you rolled your eyes, ignoring her smile.

"and you never were good at minding your business." you mutter. "i was just checking the time."

"for the 5th time in ten minutes?" she questioned. you glared at her, but both of you knew that she had a point. "who is he?"

you shook your head, standing your ground. "no one."

"you don't have to tell me. i won't force it out of you." you let out a sigh of relief. "as long as you answer one question."

"what?"

"it's not him, is it?" you look over at her, expecting to see her pointing at someone. instead, she was just looking at you. it took you a moment to realize who she was referring to.

"have you lost your fucking mind?" you ask, almost mad that she would as such a thing.

she held her hands up. "i was just checking."

"just for that good luck."

she lets out a dramatic gasp before trying to charge at you, but someone pulled her back at the last minute. you smile when you see jo holding her back before looking back at you with an unamused look. "did you really have to rile her up?"

"she started it." you shrug.

"she told me good luck!" your cousin exclaimed. "last time she did that i lost 3 races in a row. let me go, so i can be down a family member."

"maybe next time don't ask stupid questions." you retort, watching as jo drags her away, so she wouldn't actually go through with her threat. you lean back on her car, finally happy to have a second alone, but that was quickly ruined when you felt someone staring at you.

"why are you wearing jeans?" you snap your head behind you to see fuma standing there. he had a frown on his face as he looked at your outfit.

"because it's cold?" you say though it sounds more like a question.

he stares at you for longer than you were comfortable with because you knew what he was doing. he was reading you like he always did. "you always wear dresses."

"and now i'm not." you brush it off, trying to mask how uncomfortable these clothes really made you.

"you don't like them." his statement made you look away, scanning the crowd as a distraction. "you've been pulling at them all night. the fabric is bothering you, isn't it?"

you still don't look at him, refusing to acknowledge he's right. how does he knew how sensitive you are to fabrics? you've never said anything about it. "you're reading too much into this. it's just jeans."

"i'm not." you glance over when you hear him move to where he was leaning on the car next to you, his full attention on you. "so what's bothering you?"

"nothing." you speak way too fast for you not to be lying. "i realized how cold it was outside and decided to wear something warm."

"it was colder than this on monday, and you still wore a dress." you nearly flinch as he calls you out. you look up at him to see him already looking down at you. "what happened?"

"has anyone ever told you that you would make a great therapist?" you question, smiling for the first time tonight when you see him frown even more. "i just had a moment, okay?"

"a moment?"

you nod at his question. "yeah. i just didn't liked the way i looked in any of the dresses i have tonight. it's no big deal."

"it is if it made you change into something you never wear." he argues, refusing to let you brush it off. "what didn't you like?"

"oh, you know... my thighs." you answer, looking down at your jean covered legs. "i just didn't like the way they looked tonight."

he doesn't respond, choosing to go silent instead. you almost don't want to look at him, but you do. you see he wasn't looking at you, but at your thighs, glancing up at you with a dark look when he felt your eyes on him.

"the only thing wrong with them is that you're covering them." your eyes widen, face flushing at his words. you can't do anything but watch him as he steps closer to you, almost trapping you against the car. his hand moves, disappearing under your sweater. his fingers brushing against your skin before they travel down, ghosting over your hip before tugging at the jeans. "these aren't you."

you mouth goes dry as he stares down at you. "fuma-"

"there you two are!" you jump at the sound of maki's voice, looking over to see him and his girlfriend walking towards you. well, maki was more like dragging her. you glance over when you feel the warmth of fuma disappear as he steps away- the action stinging more than it should. "you two are about to miss history being made."

that caught your attention. "what do you mean?"

maki goes to answer when you hear the sound of someone else running towards you. you turn to see your cousin, annoyed and slightly out of breath staring right at you. "get in the car."

"huh?"

"aren't you racing tonight?" fuma asked making her nod.

"taki just bet against k and i that he could win a race between the three of us. but k's girlfriend wanted to ride with him, and you know taki's girlfriend doesn't like racing."

"which means taki took jo." maki's girlfriend adds making everything make sense.

"so i need you."

you had ridden along with her a couple of times before you moved, so it wasn't anything new. you see fuma look towards you out of the corner of your eye, but you don't look over at him, still upset over him pulling away even though you knew you shouldn't. it's not like you two were a thing.

you nod your head, making your cousin smile. "let go win us a race."

you leave the three of them, getting in her car before she drives over to where the other two were waiting. you watch with a smile as your cousin and taki yell at each other while k just laughed at them.

you held onto the handle as she took off, taking second place ahead of taki. "that asshole should've known better."

you laugh at her words. "you're insane."

"i'm also observant." she says, glancing at you while making sure taki doesn't get around her. you realized she didn't care about beating k. she just wanted to beat taki since he made jo ride with him. "with that being said, what the hell is going on with you and fuma?"

your head snaps towards her. "nothing."

"yeah. that's why he had you almost pinned to my baby, right?" she questions with a smirk. "he looked like he wanted to eat you right there."

you scoff out a laugh as you rub your face. "it's really nothing. just some fun i guess."

"you guess?"

"it started at the party. this whole no strings attached thing." you shrug, ignoring her gasping at you.

"you mean you've been sleeping with him the past week, and you didn't tell me?"

"i haven't slept with him." you mumble.

"you're telling me you have a man like that pinning after you, and you haven't slept with him?" she glances over at you, noticing how quiet you got. "what's got you scared to? he's not like ren."

"i know." you sigh, hating the name that just came out of her mouth. "it's just... he set the rules. simple. not complicated, and i instantly agreed because i thought that was what i wanted. i didn't realize the attraction i was feeling towards him was anything but simple. i thought it would end, but it's only gotten worse."

"you fell for him, didn't you?"

"way to fucking hard."

she let out a sigh. "that's not a bad thing. i know i talk a lot of shit, but fuma's a good guy."

"i know he is, but if i tell him this, he's going to shut this down. he told me that he didn't want anything either." you tell her.

"how are you going to know if he's changed his mind like you did if you don't ask? what's the worst that could happen?"

you look over at her. "he doesn't feel the same, and i lose him."

"but you won't be hurting." she points out. "haven't you hurt enough?"

you blink at her before turning to look out of the windshield just in time to see her pass the finish line right behind k. she did what she wanted, but neither one of you seemed happy as you stepped out of the car. you couldn't even bring yourself to smile as you watched taki be overdramatic to his girlfriend about losing.

your cousin quickly walked over to you. "i didn't upset you, did i?"

"no." you answer. if anything, you felt better about getting it off your chest even though you had no clue what you were going to do. "but i'm not in the mood to be here anymore."

"do you want me to drive you back?" she asked.

you shook your head. "no. i've got it."

she gives you a hug before you leave, quickly pushing through the crowd as you try to leave. you just barely push through everyone when you run into someone, jumping when their arms wrap around you steady you.

"running off already?" you go still, looking up and meeting fuma's eyes. "doesn't your cousin have a few more races left?"

you shrug, backing away from him. "i don't want to be here anymore."

"then let's go." you watch as he grabs your hand before walking you away from the crowd. you spot his car parked away from the others.

"you don't have to drive me. i can get a ride."

"i know." he responds, opening the door for you. "get in."

you stare at him for a moment before listening to him. you watch him as he closes the door before getting into the drivers seat. as you lean back in your seat, you realize something as he pulls out of the lot. "don't you need my address?"

"i'm not taking you back to yours." he answers confusing you.

"then where the hell are you taking me?"

he shrugs. "you said you didn't want to be there, so we're going to my place."

"that's not what i meant." you mumble, making no move to tell him you didn't want to go because you both knew you did.

the rest of the car ride went by in the blink of an eye. maybe it was because you were stuck in your thoughts. you see him glance at you a couple of times, but he doesn't make any try to talk, giving you some time to yourself. once you get back to his place, he turns off the car.

"come on."

you get out of the car and follow him to his apartment. he walked in first, letting you in and watching as you slip off your shoes before talking. "are you going to tell the truth now?"

"about what?"

"about what's bothering you." you glance up when he steps closer to you.

"i did."

he tilted his head like he was examining you. "no you didn't."

"yes i did. i'm sorry if it's not what you wanted to hear, but i don't know what do you want me to say. that i don't hate my body? because i do." you tell him, finally letting your feelings loose. "i hate my nose and the way it's shaped. i hate the way my voice sounds on videos. and i hate my thighs. i hate the stretch marks and the way they move when i walk. most of the time the dresses help, but not tonight. tonight i hate everything about me. happy now?"

he's quiet for a moment, almost making you regret what you said. you go to ask if he could forget that when he stops you. "don't talk about yourself like that again."

"why? it's true." you try to step away from him when he steps towards you, but his arm catches your waist and keeping you close.

"no, it's not. it's something you were told enough times that you started to believe it." you freeze in his arms before trying to pull away from him. "who told you that?"

"it doesn't matter."

"it does." he argues. "because you didn't come up with this on your own. there's no way you would look at your body and see what i see and still say the things you are without someone saying something first. i'm not going to let you stand here and say that those things are true because they're not."

you stay quiet, not knowing how to respond to that. he almost seemed mad that not only you thought so negatively of yourself, but also that someone had the nerve to make you think those things.

he stepped closer to you, and this time you don't try to move away, allowing him to back you into the wall. his hands landed on your hips, moving your sweater to show more of your body to him. his touch drifted down, settling on your thighs.

"you couldn't be more wrong." his voice was low, silently warning you to stop talking about yourself the way you were. "i don't want to hear you talk about yourself like that again, okay?"

you want to agree, but you didn't feel like you could. "fuma, it's not that easy."

"then you come to me, and i'll make all those thoughts disappear until the only thing you can think of is how dangerous this body is." you forget how to breath for a moment at his words. "do you even realize what you do to me?"

he leans in closer to you, moving one of his hands to brush along your jaw. he tilts your head to where you don't have a choice than to meet his intense gaze. you try to say something, but as soon as your lips move, he closes the distance, silencing you with a kiss.

you feel something in yourself snap when he kisses you. you knew you were never going to get enough of him, and you hoped he felt the same way. because the way he was kissing you, the way he was touching you was something you didn't want to live without anymore.

you're out of breath when he pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours. "are you going to let me show you?"

you don't even think about it, too far gone to think about your earlier conversation with your cousin. you're in his arms, thighs wrapped around his waist as soon as he sees you nod before bringing you to his room. he lays you down before trapping you against the bed, lips finding yours.

"you drive me mad." he mumbles as he pulls away, quickly finding your neck. his teeth find the sensitive spot that had your legs tightening around him, whimpering when he abused the spot until you knew there would be a dark bruise later. "hearing you talk about yourself like that..."

you close your eyes when you feel his hands slip under your sweater, pulling it up just a little until he stopped. "keep your eyes open. you're going to watch me."

he waited until your eyes were open before continuing, pulling your sweater over your head. his head dipped down, kissing up your stomach as his hands unclasped your bra. you sighed out when his lips wrapped around your nipple, hand squeezing the other one.

"these are the perfect size." he mumbles against your skin, feeling you jerk when his tongue flicks your nipple. "so pretty and soft."

he continued his trail, making sure you were watching him as he kissed down your stomach. you lifted your hips when he unbuttoned your jeans, getting off of you just long enough to slip them off, leaving you bare beneath him.

"and these fucking thighs." you feel his teeth graze them before biting down just hard enough to leave a mark. "they drive me crazy."

you can't even say how long he spent on your thighs, kissing and biting them until you didn't think there were any clear spots. by the time he was done, you could feel your thighs sticking together with your arousal.

he settled back in between your legs, looking at you with a smirk before capturing your lips with his. you kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck before pulling away with a gasp when he flipped your position. his hands found your hips as you now straddled his as he looked up at you.

"sit on my face."

your eyes widen at his request as you try to get off of him. "fuma... wait. i've never-"

"that doesn't matter." he argues, holding you in place.

"but what if i hurt you?"

"i want you to." he shrugs like what he's requesting is nothing. "i want you to suffocate me with these thighs. now come here, baby."

he helped you as you shifted closer to his face. you were still unsure about this, not sitting down fully as you straddled his face. that was until his hands dug into your thighs and pulled you down fully.

"i said sit on my face."

you tried to shift again, but faltered when his tongue licked a strip up your folds. your concern disappeared as he lapped at your clit, dragging a moan from you. you gripped his head board with one hand, the other tangling in his hair. "fuma-"

his hands held you tightly as he shifted, nose pressing against your clit as his tongue eased inside of you. you gasp, instinctively shifting your hips along his face making him smile. "there you go baby. i knew you would like this."

and you did. the way his hands dug into your thighs, holding you to him. the way his tongue nearly made you see stars. with his words, you gained some confidence, rocking your hips in rhythm to his tongue. you didn't know how he could still breath with the way your thighs were tightening around his head. it didn't stop him as he lapped and sucked at your clit.

"fuma- fuck." you gasp, barely able to catch your breath. "please."

he was very familiar with your body at this point. the way you tense, calling his name. "keep going, baby. ride my face until you come."

you whimper, shifting your trembling thighs as you chase your high. it didn't take long for your stomach to twist. "fuma."

"come." you didn't think an orgasm from fuma could get any more intense than last time, but you were wrong. it was almost painful how strong it was, nearly making you lose your balance as it washes over you. fuma lets out a low groan as he feels your release. "good girl."

you barely had time to recover before fuma's hands were on your waist, easily flipping you back over onto the bed before towering over you again. you could see his lips and chin shining with your release, but that didn't stop you from pulling him to you.

he kissed you back instantly, hands cupping your cheeks as your hands trail down his chest. you didn't want to stop. you just wanted him, not caring if this could hurt you.

"fuma." you mumbled as you pulled away. "i don't want to stop. i want to keep going."

his hands hold your face still as he stares down at you, making sure you really meant what you said. "are you sure?"

you nod quickly. "i am. i want more. please."

he quiets your begging, kissing you gently. his lips and touch became softer after your words as he shifts you, making sure you were resting comfortably before pulling away from you. he leaned back just enough to make sure that you really wanted this, and when he saw no signs of hesitation, he pulled his shirt over his head.

you felt his hand on your hip as he trailed down to where you needed him. he could feel how we you still were, gathering it onto his fingers before slowly sliding one into you. you gasp as you feel the stretch as he slides in a second one right after it. he takes his time, making sure he wouldn't hurt you.

"such a good girl." he mumbled along your skin as he kisses your neck. "you think you're ready for me?"

he felt you clench around his fingers- a sign that you really needed him. "yes, fuma. please."

"i've got you." he pressed a short kiss to your lips before pulling away to pull the rest of his clothes off before grabbing a condom from his drawer. your eyes immediately go to his straining erection that somehow looked bigger than last time as he stretched the condom over it. he caught your attention when he got back on top of you, holding your gaze. "you still sure?"

you nod your head. "yes."

he was as gentle as he could as he pushed inside of you, stopping when he felt you clench around him. "you good baby?"

"yeah." you pant, adjusting to his size. "you're just fucking huge."

he chuckled, inching inside a little more before kissing your cheek. "but you're doing so good for me."

the praise was something you weren't used to, but it felt nice to have someone say it. you knew you wanted to hear him praise you more. he patiently waited until you were okay before pushing in the rest of the way. you could feel your breath leave you with how full you felt. you could pratically feel him in your stomach.

"fuck."

"look at you." he let his gaze drift down to where he was deep inside of you, your thighs locked tightly around his waist. "and you called me unfair."

the unexpected sentence made you chuckle as he brought up the last time you were together. "i still stand by that statement."

"i know you do." he waited until you gave him permission to move, slowly pulling out before pushing back into you. your hands dig into his arms as you moan out his name. "feel good baby?"

you nod, clenching around him when he speeds up. "y-yes. you feel s- so good, fuma."

that got a small groan out of him along with a sharp thrust of his hips that had you gripping him tightly. "i love it when you say my name like that."

every time you moaned his name, he sped up, thrusting into you hard and fast. you had never felt anything like this, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your nails dug into his back. "fuck, fuma. please don't stop."

his hand caught your jaw, tilting your head before crashing his lips to yours. he felt you instantly pull him closer, groaning into his mouth when he pinched your nipple in between his fingers.

he knew you were close- they way you were clinging to him. your sounds increasing when his lips weren't on yours. just the sight of you bouncing with every thrust had him holding back his high. you almost cry out when his hand finds your clit, thumb moving harshly to bring you to your high.

"you close, baby?"

"so close." you whimper, body trembling with need. "please fuma."

"i've got you. come for me."

you throw your head back, every muscle tight as you came around him. fuma held you close to him while continuing to thrust into you as he chase his own high. it didn't take him but a few moments to let out a groan into your ear as he buries his head into your neck before releasing into the condom.

you didn't know what to do as you recovered from your high. you didn't know if this was like some sort of one night stand. like do you leave? you didn't want to with the way he was holding you.

he moved his head from your neck, pulling you into a kiss that had you melting into him. as if he could feel that, he pulled away with a smile. "stay here."

he rolled off of you, disposing of the condom as he disappeared into the bathroom. he came bag with a warm rag, cleaning you as well as he could because he knew you were too tired to do anything. he walked over to his closet, grabbing you one of his shirts to put on before disappearing back into the bathroom.

the shirt was huge, falling down to your knees almost. and it smelled just like him making your head spin. what was this situation you had gotten yourself in.

you had spun onto your side as he came out of the bathroom. you heard as he turned all of the lights off before sliding into bed behind you. he wasn't touching you, but you could still feel the warmth of his body. you body wanted you to sleep, but your mind wouldn't let you, speeding through everything that happened tonight, and how much trouble you were in.

apparently you had shifted one too many times because you felt his arm wrap around your waist before pulling you into his arms. his chest pressed against your back as he nuzzled his head into your neck. "better?"

you wanted to answer no because how could him cuddling you make anything better. your mind was racing while your body quickly relaxed into his arms. it felt like you belonged here in his arms. why did you have to fall for someone who didn't feel the same?

instead of saying any of that, you just nodded your head. "better."

you knew things were bound to go wrong at some point. they always do when it came to your life, and it wasn't a secret. your family knew which led to the nickname jinx which your father came up with. you hated the nickname so much, especially when your ex started calling you it. it ended up being used as an insult instead of a tease like how you family called you it.

"classic jinx. always ruining everything."

"do you ever notice how things only go wrong with you're involved, jinx?"

you never wanted to believe him. you always thought that maybe he was the reason why things always went wrong. being away from him and your family, you were finally starting to believe that. things were finally going your way.

or so you thought.

you don't know what happened that caused him to go radio silent. at first you just thought he was busy at the shop. maybe he was too tired to answer your texts or calls. but then you showed up at the shop to euijoo telling you that he hasn't been in all week, and none of them could tell you why.

you couldn't help but let your mind run wild with theories. maybe he somehow figured out your feelings for him. maybe he just wasn't interested in the whole friends with benefits things anymore. your worst thought was that maybe he'd seen your body and decided that he didn't want you. you know you shouldn't have thought like the way he practically worshipped you that night, but you couldn't think of any other reason why he would ghost you.

you thought you would find out for yourself, driving to his apartment before knocking on his door. you didn't get an answer, but you also couldn't hear anything from inside making you think he wasn't home. you pulled out your phone to call him again when the neighboring door opened, revealing fuma's sister. you had met her a few times, and she seemed nice. but instead of her usual smile, she was wearing a glare that was directed straight at you.

"you have some nerve coming here."

"excuse me?"

she let out a scoff at your question. "don't be stupid. you know exactly what i mean."

you stay quiet because one, you didn't know how to respond to that, and two, you had no idea what she meant. she let out an annoyed sigh before turning and disappearing back into her apartment. you take one last glance at fuma's door before following after her. by the time you stepped into her place, she had her phone in her hand, pulling up something before handing you her phone.

"explain this."

you look down at her phone, eyes widening at the photos. "how did you get these?"

it was something you never thought you would see again- your wedding photos. the last time you did was right after your divorce when you drank a little too much and set them on fire. looking at them now felt strange. you didn't recognize the younger version of you. she was so happy, not knowing of anything of the man she was marrying.

"your husband was kind enough to send them to fuma." she answered, not noticing your flinch at the word husband. "how could you do this to him? his last relationship was so bad, i never thought he would try again. and them you come along and make him forget just to be married this entire time!"

you blink at her outburst, trying to understand her words. "wait, ren sent you these?"

"yes!" she snaps. "and i want to know why my brother is sleeping with someone else's wife?"

"he isn't because i'm not married." you tell her, all of the pieces finally clicking into place. why fuma was ignoring you. why his sister was so mad. ren made it seemed like you were still married, and since you were stupid enough to not tell fuma, he believed ren. "i divorced him last year."

you watch as her anger turns to confusion. "then why the hell would he send these and make it seem like you're still married?"

"because he loved to make my life a living hell." you answered, hating that your past had finally been brought up. you had tried so hard to make it disappear. "i spent three years married to him, and everyday his only goal was to make me hate myself. he eventually he got what he wanted. i couldn't take it anymore and filed for a divorce."

"that son of a bitch." she mumbled, understanding that ren set you up. "he knew exactly what he was doing."

you knew as much as you never wanted to see him again, you needed to go talk to ren. "i need to go and have a chat with my ex."

"wait." you turn to glance back at her. "i don't thinks it's a good idea to be going alone."

you shrug you shoulders once more before leaving. "what's the worst he could do? he already took the one thing that mattered the most."

you leave her place before she could try to stop you again. you didn't know what you were going to do or say when you got there, but you knew you had to do something. he had spent the last few years controlling you in every way possible. he needed to learn he wasn't able to anymore.

the drive there was familiar considering he took the house. you didn't want it or anything else related to the marriage. he threatened to leave you with nothing if you divorced him, and he did exactly that. it didn't bother you, it never did, because you were free. you could do whatever you wanted without him complaining- something you had spent the last year learning.

you park the car and get out before you psych yourself out, knocking on the door which almost instantly opens like he was expecting you. "long time no see, jinx."

for the first time since he started calling you that, you don't flinch in embarrassment. "what the hell is wrong with you?"

"whatever do you mean, wife?"

"ex-wife." you correct. "i left your pathetic ass last year. don't forget that. now why did you send those photos?"

"because i know you, jinx. i know you didn't tell him. i mean, why would you want anyone to know how much of a failure you are."

your jaw tightened, refusing to get mad like you always did. "the only failure i have is agreeing to marry you."

"wow. did it take you three years to come up with that one too?" ren responded with a laugh.

"why bother me now?" you ask. "you had a whole year to, and you wait until i'm happy. how sad has your life become for you to wait that long?"

ren lets out a scoff at your words, but if he says something, you don't hear him. you ignore him when you have a familiar feeling brush over you, having felt it many times before. you turn around, eyes instantly locking with fuma's who was standing at the edge of the driveway.

it took everything in you to stay still and not run over to him. you knew he was mad at you- you could see it on his face. you knew you deserved every bit of it, but you just wanted him to know the truth. he would probably still not want anything to do with you because who would want someone who keeps something like that?

"who the hell are you?" ren asks, finally noticing fuma. fuma doesn't answer him right away which you could tell put ren on edge. you could see him falter when fuma starts to walk closer to you too. you had to hold back a laugh when ren had to actually look up at fuma as he stopped next to you. "i asked you a question."

"does it matter?"

"yes." he answered, not expecting that response. "it kind of does when some random guy shows up at my house."

"i'm not here for you." he told him, dismissing him before looking down at you. "i'm here for her."

you don't know how you managed to keep a straight face at his words. you could see the anger disappear slightly when his eyes meet yours. you refuse to get your hopes of though thinking he deserved better than you.

"there is a reason i left you, ren." you tell him. "now stay out of my life."

you turn around and leave before he has a chance to say anything else. you see fuma staring at ren, making you think he was going to say something, but he doesn't, deciding that ren isn't worth his time. he just turns, falling into step beside you.

you barely hear the front door slam shut as you reach your car, fuma standing right next to you as you pull out your keys. his eyes finally leave you, going down to your hands where he notices they're shaking.

"give me the keys." you look down at his outstretched hand for a moment before placing your keys in his hand. "come on."

he walks you around to the passenger's side, opening the door for you and waiting until you were sat down before shrugging off his jacket. just like countless other times, he drapes it across your lap before shutting your door and getting into the drivers side.

he pulls out of the driveway, driving you away from the place you hope to never to return to. he didn't say anything, and neither did you until you couldn't hold in your questions anymore. "how did you know where i was?"

"my sister called me freaking out, saying you were going to confront your ex. i then called your cousin, and she gave me the address along with some very interesting information." he answered. "why did you come here alone?"

"i was married to the asshole for 3 years. i know what he's like." you tell him. he was a narcissist. all of the pain he has caused you was by his mouth. and as much as you hate him, you knew he would never lift a hand towards you.

"that doesn't matter. you shouldn't have come her alone." you couldn't help but let out a scoff at his words.

"what would have wanted me to do?" you ask. "call you? oh wait... that would involve you actually answering me."

"do you think i ignored you for no reason? i thought you were still married." you nearly flinch as he argues back. the anger you were feeling about him ignoring you felt displaced now. he had every reason to ignore you because this was all your fault. if you had just told him, the two of you wouldn't be in this situation.

"i'm not, and i should've told you." you admit quietly. "i just... i didn't want to talk about it. i just wanted to forget it ever happened."

he stayed quiet for a moment before speaking. "you should've told me."

"i know." he glances over at you for the first time since you two got into the car. you're staring at your lap, playing with a loose string on his jacket.

"why?"

"because it's embarrassing." you answer, seeing him shake his head out of the corner of you eye.

"no it's not." he tells you. "sometimes things don't work out. you didn't do anything wrong."

you let out a sad laugh. "i wish i could see it like that."

"how do you see it?" he asks.

"like i failed. like i wasn't good enough for things not to go wrong." you answer, blinking back tears as you hesitate to keep talking. "i know you heard him call me jinx. it's a family nickname that my father gave me because i always screw things up."

"you didn't screw anything up. things just went wrong. that's not the same thing." you shake your head, refusing to believe him.

"i don't see it like that, and neither does my family. everyone except my cousin hates the fact that i divorced him. why would i throw away such a perfect man? they still talk to him too- that's why i stopped talking to them."

"if he was perfect, you wouldn't have left."

you went quiet at his words, glancing back out the window and avoiding his gaze. "why didn't you ask? why ignore me?"

"you never told me, so i assumed the worst." he answered. "i thought that you'd confirm it was true and end things."

"so you decided to end things first?" you ask, glancing over at him when he nods.

"yeah. i should've talked to you." he admits.

"i understand." you let out a sigh, pulling his jacket tighter around you. "i was really starting to believe the whole jinx thing."

"don't call yourself that." he stops your thoughts, reaching over and grabbing your hand. you watch as his fingers intertwine with yours before his lips brush against your skin. "you're not a jinx. if anything, you're a muse."

you stop breathing for a moment at his words. no one has ever called you anything other than your name or jinx. "a muse?"

"yeah." his hand tightens around yours. "you make me pay attention to things i normally don't. you make things feel like that matter when they didn't before. that's quite the opposite of bad luck."

his words are enough to make you want to cry all over again. no one's ever said anything like that to you. you always felt like the burden of the family, even to your cousin. but then fuma walks into your life and is making you feel like the exact opposite. you feel like you matter with him.

you don't respond to him- the words stuck in your throat. you rest your head back on the seat, watching the scenery as he drives you back to your place. he stays quiet as well, but you feel his gaze flicker to you every few minutes, like he's making sure you're still okay.

he pulls into the parking lot before turning off the car. you reluctantly pull your hand out of his and quickly stop out of the car, needing some air. you bend down to see him still sitting in the car watching you. you knew he was waiting on you to tell him what you wanted.

"so..." you start, trailing off quietly. "do you call all your client's muse, or am i just really special?"

you see a hint of a smirk on his lips, but he doesn't answer, choosing to get out of the car instead. you had barely closed your door before he was behind you, spinning you around in his arms. he closes in on you, pinning you against the car.

"what do you think?" he asks, but he doesn't give you a chance to answer. his hand finds your jaw, tilting your head up just enough for his lips to find yours. and just like every other kiss with him, it's intense enough to have you thankful he was pinning you to the car, so he couldn't feel the way your knees shake. he waits until he feels you relax into him before pulling away, thumb brushing your cheek softly as he looks down at you. "do you really think i would call anyone else that other than the one person who drives me crazy?"

you couldn't help but smirk at his question, moving your hands to grip his jacket before pulling him flush against you. "good."

"good?" he chuckles, hand sliding underneath your shirt. "because of the 'muse' thing, or because i said you drive me crazy?"

"both."

he pushes you farther into the car as his lips crash back into yours. you felt his hand run down your hip before tugging at your jeans. "what did i say about jeans?"

"oh trust me i hate them to, but i have to wear them because somebody left my thighs looking like i got mauled by a bear." you point out which wasn't a lie. your legs are still covered in bruises from him. you loved it, but it wasn't very appropriate to show them off.

"so what you're saying is we need to get longer dresses?" you roll your eyes at his question.

"or you can not attack me again."

"why would i do that when i know how much you liked it?" he questioned, tightening his grip before lifting your thigh up, resting it on his hip. you were thankful you were covered by your car, so no one could see you.

he opened his mouth to speak again but stopped when he heard the roll of thunder. and as if the universe hated you, rain started pouring just seconds after. you let out a groan before grabbing his wrist, pulling him behind you as you bring him to your apartment. and sadly since your apartment is across the rode from the parking, the two of you were dripping wet and freezing by the time you stepped into your place.

you let him take off his shoes before pulling him towards your bathroom while rambling how it's too cold for it to be raining. "you can take a shower to warm up. i can see if i have any clothes that would fit you, but if not i can throw yours into the dryer while you shower."

"what about you?" you shrug off his question, moving to turn the water on.

"i'll wait until you get out. it's no big deal." you try to back of the way for him, but stops when his hands hold you still. "fuma-"

"the only way i'm getting in that shower is if you get in with me."

you hesitate for a moment before you allow him to pull your wet clothes off before making you step under the warm water before he follows. as soon as he does, he has you pinned to the wall, lips on yours as he pins your hands above your head.

"fuma." you mumble against his lips as you feel his hand trail down your stomach, hiking your leg onto his waist before his thumb presses into one of the marks he left and watching as you jerk in pleasure. "fuck-"

"did you miss this?" he asked, kissing along your jaw.

you almost hesitate with your answer before deciding against it. "yes, i missed you."

he noticed that you said him and not how whatever was going on between you two, moving away from your neck. he slowed down after your answer, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed you.

"i know." he muttered as he pulled away, eyes softer than you've ever seen as he looked at you. "i feel it too."

your breath catches as he admits that- that he feels the same. it made you feel like he was pinning for you just as much as you were him. "you- you do?"

"yeah." he answers as he rests his forehead against yours. "i tried not to because that's what we agreed on, but it didn't really work."

"i really do mess things up, don't i?" you lightly joke.

"no, you don't. you make things better, my muse." you don't get a chance to respond, not that you would be able to as he kissed you. it quickly got heated, his tongue brushing yours as his hand slid in between your folds. you moan into his mouth when his thumb finds your clit, index finger teasing your entrance. "i should've known things were never going to be simple with you. that stopped the moment you let me touch this perfect body."

you let out a groan as he eased two fingers into you, stretching you before he started moving them slowly enough to make you whine. "fuma-"

"i don't want to hear you say you're a jinx, that you mess things up, or anything about yourself, okay? because i don't like hearing someone talk about what's mine like that."

the words are stuck in your throat, a whimper falling past your lips when he slides his fingers out of you before pulling your other thigh up to wrap around his waist. you hold onto his neck as he keeps you close to him, nudging your entrance with his erection.

"you're so unfair." you mumble, pushing his wet hair out of his face. "i've spent years trying to not believe those things, and then you fucking walk in."

he chuckles. "good."

he waits for your nod before he eases into you. being in the shower makes it easier for him to slide in, but you still groan at the stretch of him. you didn't think you'd ever get used to his size. you could almost feel him in your stomach when he bottoms out, waiting patiently for you to adjust to him.

"see, my muse?" he has a smirk as he pulls out of you, hearing you moan when he pushes back in. "this is no mistake, is it?"

"no." you whimper as he sets his speed, fingers tangling into his hair as he thrusts deeply inside of you. "no mistake."

"good girl." he says, angling himself so his tip hit the spot that had you clenching around him. your thighs shook in his hold as you cry out his name.

he keeps his pace steady until he hears for you begging for him to speed up, so he does, rolling his hips in a way that made you dizzy. "fuck, fuma. you feel so good."

his lips found your neck, marking your skin while his free hand began to wonder. you felt him ghost over your chest, teasing until he heard a whine before his fingers twisted around your nipple, drawing a moan from your lips. each pinch of his hand, each thrust of his hips brought you closer to your high until you felt like you were about to explode.

"fuma- please... i need more."

he got the message, moving his hand from your breast to your clit before rubbing the sensitive bud. you go tense in his hold, on the verge of your climax. "come on, my muse. come for me."

you buried your head into his neck as your high hit you hard just like it always does when it came to him. he held onto tightly, helping you ride out your high before he pulled out of you, jerking off into his hands a few times before he released onto your stomach.

you glance down to see the mess he made. "maybe it's good thing we chose the shower."

the two of you finish your shower before getting out. after some digging, you find a pair of boxers you used to sleep in and a hoodie for him while his clothes dry. you make the two of you some warm drinks while he sits on one of the stools in your kitchen. you debated whether you should bring things up, but you knew you need to clear the air.

"i met ren when i was 18." you start, keeping your back to him. "he was 20. he was the first guy to show me any attention, so i immediately thought that he was the one. he was my first everything." you hand him his drink but refuse to look at him as you told your story. "he proposed about 6 months after we started dating, and we married a few months later. my family was ecstatic. said i finally did something right. little did i know it was the worst decision i've ever made."

"he is a narcissist. everything revolved around him. i realized that after we moved in together. that's when the arguments started- the insults after that. the person you met today was the person who made me hate myself. you can only hear so many insults before you believe them. my personal favorite was that he did the world a favor by marrying me, so no one else would have to suffer with me like he did."

you mess with your damp hair as you continue. "the best thing i ever did was divorce him. he may have taken everything, and my family may hate me for it. but i've never been happier. i know i shouldn't have kept it from you, and i'm sorry. i didn't mean to hurt you."

he's quiet for a moment, processing what you said before you hear him move. he's beside you before you can blink, hand resting on your waist. "look at me." he waits until you do before he continues. "i get why you didn't say anything, but you don't have to hide things from me, okay? i'm not him. the last thing i would ever do is judge you."

"i know that now." you say. "i just thought it would scare you off."

he shakes his head. "it would take a lot more than that. like i said earlier, you became mine that night at the party. i was just too stupid to do something sooner."

"no more simple?" you ask, feeling hopeful when he smiles.

"no more simple." he agrees, wrapping his arms around you when you lean up to kiss him, like he was never going to let you go.

3 months later

the past 3 months have went better than you ever thought possible. you never thought when you stepped into the tattoo shop your cousin recommended a few months ago, you would meet the person who made you forget every bad thing that happened to you. you never thought they would become your boyfriend and wake up next to them every morning because they refuse to leave you alone. you never thought you would fall in love with them.

"you still doing okay, my muse?" you glance down at him as he pauses.

it was finally time for you to cover the last tattoo that reminded you of your past- the wedding date. it took you a while to figure out what you wanted to cover it up with, but your boyfriend was very patient with you, drawing many designs until you finally picked one. it was simple, just some wildflowers that wrapped around the underside of your breast, but it perfectly covered your old tattoo.

you couldn't help but smile at the nickname. "i'm okay. just ready for this to be over."

"my brave girl." he smiles at you before continuing, knowing that this tattoo was the most painful of the coverups he's done. "i'm almost done."

you nodded, waiting as patiently as you could for him to finish. it didn't take him much longer before you heard his machine to turn off. he cleaned it before looking back up at you. "it's done?"

"go look." he says, grabbing your hand and helping you up. he gives you a moment, cleaning up while you look at the piece. finally after looking at all of these tattoos and thinking of your ex for so long, you now had something else to look at- something that was a reminder of you, not him. you felt fuma brush against your back, looking up to meet his eyes through the mirror. "do you like it?"

"i love it." you answer turning towards him, smiling when he instantly wraps you in his arms. "just like i love you."

his hand cups your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheek before leaning down and kissing you. you melt into him, finger curling into his shirt when he pulls you closer to him. when he pulls away, he makes sure to keep you close, resting his forehead against yours.

"i love you too, my muse."

you smile, pulling him down into another kiss. when he back you into the mirror, a sense of deja vu washes over you, except this time you don't feel like you were going to ruin this.

▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞

your nose crinkles as the smell of burnt rubber and gasoline hit you. you shouldn't even be here. you were never the one for watching races– even though you loved cars and your boyfriend himself raced. you hated the overly egotistical men, and women, who always thought they were the best. especially tonight. most of the racers there were new to the scene– only been racing for a few months. you could practically smell the arrogance in the air.

you roll your eyes as you received the second cat call in your two minutes of being here. you weren't even dressed for attention– just a white tank top that was stained with grease and your coveralls that were tied lowly on your hips. you had come straight from work and didn't have any time to change.

your good friend who you've known for a few years, k, asked you last minute to come out to look at his friend's car. normally you would say no, steering clear from new racers. but like you said, you were friends, and since he asked you to come, you did.

"yn! over here!" you turn your head when you heard your name being called. you spot k which wasn't hard since he was almost a foot taller than you. you couldn't help but to wonder why he was here at a beginner race when he was one of the best racers you've ever seen. him and the friend he mentioned must be close.

you push past the crowd that were not very shockingly surrounding k since he was a little famous in the racing world. as soon as you pushed passed them, k greeted you with a smile as he pulled you to his side. "why am i here k?"

"hello to you too. it's because i missed you and your amazing personality." you roll your eyes at his sarcastic tone.

"how you have a girlfriend is beyond me." you mutter.

"you're just jealous you're not dating me." your eyes narrow, fist hitting his stomach making him groan out.

"careful k. that nasty ego of yours is showing."

"always knocking me down." he laughed as he recovered, arm draped over your shoulder as he leaned back up to his normal height. "anyway, do you remember that favor you owe me?"

you don't like the gleam in his eyes. it looked like he was about to throw you into something you had no reason to be apart of. "k, i told you it had to be reasonable."

"it is. i swear." he stopped you before you could rant anymore. "i have a friend. his name is yuma. he's been racing now for a few months. he's getting really good."

"i feel like there's a but coming."

"i've tried teaching him the mechanic side, but nothing i try helps him." k explains. "and his car needs some help that is beyond my expertise."

"so you want me fix his car and to teach him?" he nods his head.

"i think he's got a real shot at this."

you think about it for a moment. if k thinks he's good, then you know that this yuma guy is better than most of the people here. especially if he's asking you to help teach him because he knows you don't do things like this. you don't teach many, only close friends. and you're very specific on who's car or bike you work on. "is he anything like maki?"

"no... well" you snort at his response, making him hold up his hands. "yuma is at least smart enough to race cars– not bikes. he just likes to tease people."

"can you at least get him to tone it down some for me? you know jiyoung wouldn't like it." you mention your boyfriend of the better part of 2 years. your relationship started out great– like the two of you were on cloud 9. but as it went on, it started to become more rocky. your arguments were more frequent– more intense. but the two of you were still very much together, even if he barely acts like it anymore. "i don't need anymore issues with him."

"when are you going to dump his ass?" k questions.

you let out a sigh. "it's not that simple, k. i can't afford to get a place of my own right now."

"then get rid of him and come stay with me."

"and listen to you and your girl go at it all night? no thanks." you mutter, a little bitter that his relationship is so perfect while yours is falling apart. "look, i appreciate it, but things are okay right now between us."

his eyes lock on yours, trying to tell if you were lying. "fine. but you let me know if something changes, okay?"

"okay. where is this guy i'm supposed to teach?"

"over here." you follow k to the area where most of racers were. you instantly spot who you assume is yuma leaning back onto his car acting like he owned the place– typical newbie racer behavior. there's a smug look on his face as he watches the other racers, confidence clear on his features. "yuma. this is yn– the girl i was telling you about."

yuma turned, eyes meeting yours as his lips curl upwards. he let his gaze slide over your body shamelessly, and you tried not to let it affect you. you were going to kill k for asking this of you. the last thing you needed was some arrogant racer that was going to be a handful and cause issues. "you're the famous mechanic? didn't expect that."

"that's me." you respond, unamused by his very obvious flirting. you hear k sigh as he claps a hand onto yuma's shoulder.

"she's the best there is, so you better listen to every word she tells you."

"i'll always listen to a woman who know more than me– especially when they look like you." you glance over at k who gives you an apologetic look. you chose to not engage with him, motioning to the car in front of you.

"pop the hood." yuma stands by your side as k does as you say. you lean over, examining the engine while you feel his very obvious gaze on you.

"what do you think?" yuma asks when you lean back up– arrogance now replaced with curiosity. it was a complete change from 30 seconds ago.

"it'll get you through this race no problem." you respond, wiping your hand on a rag you keep in your pocket. "but there are some things that i can see need replacing– along with some tune ups that will help keep her in the best condition."

"what's the cost?"

you look over at yuma before shaking your head. "we'll discuss that after i see you race. i'm not wasting my time on someone who's all bark and no bite."

"i love a good challenge, sweetheart."

you and k leave him as he gets ready to race. you lean back on the railing along the edge of the starting line as you watch him and another racer pull up to the line. you glance over at k who was watching intently. "you swear he's as good as you say he is?"

he nods, eyes not leaving yuma. "for someone who's only been doing this for 2 months, he's better than some of the guys i race with."

you bring your focus back to yuma who was taping the steering wheel without a care in the world. "he acts like you on the track."

"i'm taking that as a compliment." you scoff at him.

"whatever helps you sleep at night."

everyone gets into position– streets lining up with excited fans. your stomach twists in anticipation at the change in yuma's demeanor as he prepares for the race. his hands grip the steering wheel with a determined look when the countdown starts.

tires screech when the race starts– the crowd screaming at the action. the two of you watch as yuma instantly takes the lead, wrapping around the road like he's done it a hundred times. if you didn't know any better, you would question why he was racing with beginners.

you focused your attention off of him and back to his car which is the main reason you were here in the first place. you watch every shift, every tight corner, and every time his car can't keep up with him. you could tell that your work was cut out for you if he wanted to continue to use this car to race. it looked like it was one wrong turn away from a disaster.

he passes the finish line just seconds before the other racer, listening as the crowd goes crazy. you look up at k to see him smiling before he looks down at you. "told you he's got potential."

you kept quiet as you follow behind him and back towards yuma. he steps out of the car– eyes wide with excitement, hair blown everywhere from the wind. the first thing he does is lock eyes with you. "how'd i do, sweetheart?"

"we start tomorrow at 9. don't be late."

▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞

shockingly to you, yuma shows up right on time. you were already working on a different car– hair pulled back, sweat clinging to your skin from the heat. you don't look up when your hear the side door open, but you know it's him because no one else who works for you gets close to you while you're working without announcing themselves.

"morning, sweetheart." you look back, seeing him standing almost too close to you. you lean up before stepping back a step. "where do we start?"

you motion behind him. "go get your car. i'll open the door."

he does as you say without question, pulling his car around and parking it where you tell him to. he pops the hood before getting out of the car, watching as you again look over everything– taking note of everything that happened last night.

"do you want to work in that? you're going to mess them up." you question, motioning down to his clean, probably expensive, clothes. he looked down– regretting the outfit choice. you bit down on your lip, trying not to laugh at his expression– hiding it before you point behind you. "go change. i have some spare overalls."

"i'll be right back. try no to miss me too much, sweetheart." you scoff out a laugh at his words, turning to stare at his back as he walks away from you.

"don't worry." he turns, walking backwards as he looks at you. "i'll be too busy making your car work."

his chuckle reaches your ears as you turn back around. once he changes, he stands next to you as you go over the basics like what everything is and it's purpose to why it matters what oil he uses if he is going to keep racing. for the most part, he stays focus– eyes on the car and asking questions when they arise. but at some points, you can feel when his eyes shift to you– heat prickling your skin at his stare.

"you're really good at this." he tells you as he follows your instructions as you watch him closely.

"i hope so. i grew up in this place."

he stopped working for a minute, leaning up to look at you. "really?"

"yeah." you nodded. "my dad owned it. gave it to me when he and my mom moved out west. my uncle used to race, and my dad would help fix up his car. started teaching me as soon as he could."

"does your uncle still race?"

you shake your head. "no, but he does do coms now. he says he likes it better because he can still have the rush of racing without actually having to."

the two of you get back to working, arms brushing as you show him what to do next. the two of you have some small talk– mostly about the car, but he does sneak in a few compliments into the conversation. after one too many, you slap him with the rag in your hand.

"do you know how to do anything other than flirt?"

"i don't think i can with you." he admitted. you roll your eyes at him.

"you're here to learn. not flirt."

"what if i can do both?" he asks.

"you can't." you tell him, guilt hitting you suddenly. here you were, entertaining yuma's flirting when you had a boyfriend– one who completely ignored you last night when you came home, but he was still your boyfriend. "i don't know if k told you, but i have a boyfriend."

"and according to k, he's a shitty one, too."

you glare at him, stepping back from him which he immediately notices.. "not you too. it's not of either of your guys' business about my relationship."

"does he treat you well?" you blink at yuma's question, not expecting it.

"yes."

he hummed, bending down to your height. "that took you a little too long to answer."

"drop it." your tone left no room for argument. he smiled as he moved away from you, clearly happy with himself as he goes to work back on the car– leaving you angry and confused with your feelings towards your boyfriend.

thankfully, he drops the line of questioning and flirting for the time being as the two of you continue to work. towards the evening, the two of you hit a stopping point because you had to order some new parts for his car. you waited around with him until k came to pick him up before locking up the shop before driving home.

the apartment was quiet when you got home– something that didn't shock you anymore. you knew jiyoung was home because you could hear the tv from the living room. he was home, and he knew that you were home but didn't bother to say anything when you called out a greeting.

you take off your shoes before making your way to the living room. he was sitting on the couch– tv on while he was scrolling through his phone watching videos. he didn't make any movement to acknowledge you.

"hi, yn. how are you? did you make it home okay?" you asked yourself rhetorical questions that he used to ask you every time you stepped foot in the door– even going as far as meeting you at the door with open arms. questions and actions that stopped long ago.

"you're here, aren't you?" he responds, not looking up from his phone. you feel your chest ache as you cross your arms over your chest.

"is that how we're doing things now?"

he finally looks up, meeting your eyes. eyes that once lit up when he was near you now looked dead– like he didn't want to be anywhere near you. "don't start."

"i'm not starting anything." you keep your voice level, so you don't yell even though you want to. "i just spent the day working, and you can't even ask how it went."

"why would i want to hear about you playing mechanic for some newbie racer?" his question stuns you though it shouldn't at this point. you blink, slowly as you pull yourself together.

"this jealousy and petty combo looks real cute on you." he rolls his eyes at your sarcastic remark.

"i'm not jealous." he snaps, throwing his phone next to him. "i just think it's funny how you light up for strangers but shut down the second you walk through that door."

"so that's how it is, huh?" you question, used to the way he always made you look like the villain. "you completely ignore me, never answer my calls or texts, roll your eyes when i talk about anything related to me, but you're going to act like a child because someone actually talked to me like you refuse to."

"what the hell do you want from me, yn?" you could hear the exhaustion in his voice– another thing you were used to. he did this every time you two argued. he'd get mad. you'd call him out, and then he just shuts down.

"i want you to actually care about me. something you clearly haven't done in a long time."

he lets out a sigh, laying his head on the back of the couch. "i'm tired of fighting."

"then stop acting like a dick, and start acting like a boyfriend."

you didn't say another word, moving past him into the bedroom– slamming the door shut. you stand in the middle of your bedroom, waiting for the tears to come just like they normally did, but they didn't. maybe you realized that this relationship was coming to an end. the person who you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with was nothing more than a stranger.

and when you lay in bed that night, staring at his sleeping face– you realize something. maybe this was the beginning of the end of your relationship with him.

▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞

over the next week, you work with yuma here and there as the new parts for his car come in. each time you messaged him saying that something was in, he was there within the hour– even when you told him he didn't need to come. he knew just as well as you that you were completely capable of doing this on your own, but he didn't care. even if he just stood there holding something for you while you installed it, he was there– something you really weren't used to anymore.

then today, he asked for something he hadn't asked for yet– a test drive. "let me take her for a spin."

the car wasn't finished, but it was safe for him to drive. "okay. but if you stall, i'm leaving you on the side of the road."

"that's cold. after everything we been through?" he asked, mock offended. you bit your lip to avoid laughing, stopping when he opened the passenger door. "come on, sweetheart. what better way to check the engine?"

you reluctantly agree, sliding into the seat before he shuts the door. he turned the car on as soon as he closed his door– engine purring to life. his face lights up like a kid on christmas at the sound. "she sounds perfect."

"just wait until you see how she sounds when we're done."

he shifts the car, pulling out before heading onto the road. the car no longer slips, shifting through the gears like a dream. you see him relax as he drives the car down the road– finally understanding all of the work the two of you had been putting into the car. "god, she feels so good."

"you're welcome." he smiles over at you for a moment before looking back at the road. he fumbles a shift, still getting used to it and causing the car to lurch forward. you let out a chuckle which caused him to playfully glare at you. "real smooth."

"i meant to do that."

"sure." you nod. "nothing says 'i'm a pro driver' like scaring the transmission."

you hear him mutter something under his breath, making you chuckle at him. he glances at you– shocked that you laughed before looking back at the road. he recovers, shifting into the next gear without any issues.

"look at that. she only screamed a little this time." you tease, smiling when he looks at you mock offended.

"you're enjoying this way too much."

you shrug, leaning against the console. "how does it feel knowing you can't charm her like everyone else?"

"so i did manage to charm you then." you roll your eyes when you see his smirk. you shake your head, a laugh falling past your lips.

"keep dreaming. you're one more slip up away from walking back."

he gasp dramatically. "you wouldn't dare."

"fumble one more time, and i will." you threaten, though you both know you didn't mean it. he smirks, shifting gears perfectly before glancing at you.

"how was that, sweetheart?"

you're smiling before you could even realize it, but he caught it before you wiped it off your face. "keep your eyes on the road."

"yes ma'am."

you don't respond, looking out of the window as he drives, but you could feel the shift in the air between you two– and you didn't know how to feel about it. you couldn't remember the last time you laughed with jiyoung, or even smiled for that matter. he used to take you to every race– show you off like you were the best thing to happen to him. you even rode with him on multiple occasions. now, it had been months since you been to one, and the last one you went to, he ignored you the whole time. he didn't even notice when you left early.

you had gotten so used to it that being around yuma felt completely different. he listened to you– even when you weren't talking about cars. he asked questions about you that jiyoung never did, did things that he never did. a part of you felt guilty for starting to feel anything towards the man next to you, but you also didn't. you were tired of him not caring, and it was clear yuma did.

when yuma pulled into the shop an hour later, he smiles at you– clearly thankful for your help. you unbuckle your seatbelt before turning to him. "you didn't stall."

"also didn't crash."

you smile, actually smile at him which has him smiling at the fact that he's getting somewhere with you. "such a shame."

"shut up." he jokes. "you like me alive. who else is going to annoy you while you work?"

you stifle a laugh as you get out of the car. "whatever will i do without you by my side?"

"i'm glad you finally agree. you need me."

you roll your eyes at him. you know he was joking, but a part of you thinks he may be right. you were starting to want him by your side. the times he wasn't at the garage were very noticeable– too quiet. you blared music the other day to drown out the quiet, but it wasn't the same. that's when you realized it wasn't the quiet that was bothering you. it was the fact that he wasn't there.

he stuck around for a bit, asking if you needed help with anything. you said no, knowing that his friend had a race that he needed to get to. he left when his friends show up after you promised to lock up when he leaves. you shut the garage doors before turning on some music as you walk back towards his car.

you let yourself get lost in your work like you normally did. you watched the sun set, the lights above you your light as it turned dark outside. before you realize it, you had spent hours working on yuma's car– elbows deep under the engine, hands and arms smudged with grease. your voice was low as you softly sang along to one of the songs on the radio.

your mind kept drifting over to yuma, though you know you shouldn't. he was still a stranger to you– someone you've only known a week. so why do you feel like you've known him your whole life? why does he make you feel so much more than jiyoung ever did? even when you first started dating jiyoung, you always felt like you had to wear a mask, not showing your real self. with yuma, you didn't feel that. you found yourself not faking your personality with him.

you're so stuck in your head, you didn't realize that someone had came in through the side door. you hear a throat clear– startling you as you jump up, nearly hitting your head on the hood of the car. you see yuma leaning on the door, arms crossed like he had been watching you long before he made his presence known.

"i came by to grab something out of the car. i didn't think you'd still be here." you shrug your shoulders, biting you lip to avoid saying that being here and alone was better than being with your boyfriend and still alone. at least hear you felt somewhat at piece. "do you always put this much work into something you say you don't care about?"

you hesitate with your answer as you glance down. "your suspension. you have a habit of pushing too hard on corners. it won't hold if you keep driving like that." you pause, glancing up at him. "i don't want you to crash."

you look back down as he starts to walk towards you, going back to working on his car, so you don't have to look at him. you could already imagine the smug look on his face at the fact that he was right– that you do care so much more than you want to admit.

"you could've told me that earlier, sweetheart. i wouldn't have left."

"i could've." you mumble. "but you had plans, and i'm perfectly capable of doing this."

"do you always try to fix things when no one's asking you to? even when it hurts you?" your hands freeze at his question. you were completely caught off guard by the softness in his voice. there was no teasing. no judgement. just him. "you don't have to do things alone."

your chest tightens at his words, and it takes you a minute to find your voice. "it's easier that way."

"no, it's just quieter." he moves to stand next to you, leaning against the car– arm brushing yours. "you deserve more than quiet. you deserve more than this. you deserve someone who notices when you're here because you get so lost in your head. someone who sees how hard you try even when no one's looking."

"why- why are you saying all of this?" you question.

"because i see you."

you look up to meet his gaze. his eyes softened as they met yours. you could feel the difference in his stare. like you weren't just his mechanic. you weren't his teacher. he looked at you like you were more than that. you felt like he saw through everything that everyone normally ignores or just doesn't care enough to remember, but not him.

he didn't say anything further, and neither did you. he could tell that you were trapped in your own head, and you were going to have to be the one to figure things out. he gave you that push that he feel you needed. you just had to do the rest.

he locked up the shop for you before walking you to your car. he made sure you were out of the lot before he left himself. and on the short ride home, you realized that your relationship with jiyoung was over. it had been over for a long time, and you were just grasping at nothing trying to revive it. for so long, you wanted things to go back to the way they were before, but then yuma walked in. and now, you realize that you never felt a fraction for jiyoung as you felt for yuma.

he was right. you deserved to be seen– not discarded like trash. yuma made you feel seen, but does he want you back? he flirted with you sure, but he never crossed any lines. never touched you an any romantic way even though you wanted him to. was he like k and just trying to help you see that you deserve better and not actually wanted to be with you? you feel like that would break you more than ending your relationship with jiyoung.

you step into the apartment, shutting the door quietly before removing your shoes. the tv was on in the living room but turned off when jinyoung heard you walk down the hallway. you feel his eyes on you, but you didn't make any effort to greet him.

"you're late." you were shocked that he spoke to you first, but you still didn't answer him. you move into the kitchen, grabbing a glass before filling it with water. you take a sip– keeping your back to him.

"where were you?"

you let out a sigh as you sit your glass down. "working."

"still?" you roll your eyes at his question. "on that guy's car?"

you turn around, eying him with a new determination. "yes. god forbid i don't sit on my ass all day."

"don't be a jealous bitch that i make more money in two hours than you do in a week." you scoff at his insult.

"yes, you make so much money losing races because you keep challenging people who are better than you. that's why the oven is still broken, right?"

he slams his beer bottle down, shocking you when it didn't break. "you're such a bitch, you know that? you're all sweet and smiles when it's someone else, but when it's me, you act like i'm the devil."

"do you think i'm going to be nice to you when you treat me like garbage?" you question. "put yourself in my shoes. if i treated you like gum on the bottom of my shoe every time you walked through that door, would you still be nice to me? would you want to actually come home and not debate on sleeping at your work every night?"

"you're acting like a child."

"no." you shake your head. "i'm acting like someone who's finally realized that i'm worth more than the hell you put me through."

he scoffs, moving to stand. "so that's it? one pretty boy flashes you a couple smiles. gives you some attention, and you're done with me."

"jiyoung, i have been done with you for a while." you answer, refusing to raise your voice like he was. he didn't deserve your anger– not anymore. "i tried so hard to fix whatever was broken between us. i just wanted things to go back to before when we were happy. but i was stupid to wish for that because it's clear that whatever we had is through."

you watch as your words stun him. he wasn't expecting you to say tthat– to actually be done. you've threatened it before, but he could tell that you actually mean it this time. "you've said this before."

"this is the last time i'll be saying it."

for a moment, he falls back into his old self. the one who was always there for you. he realizes that the two of you aren't going to sleep in the same bed and sleep it off– even though it still feels like a constant argument even after sleeping it off. you weren't going to pretend just for his sake anymore.

"you're serious?" you nod your head at his question. "you're really going to leave?"

"i'm done, jiyoung."

those were your final words to him before you packed up your things and left him sitting on the couch, finally realizing what his actions had done though it was too late. you weren't going to change your mind. you didn't even tell him goodbye as you left. you didn't let the tears fall until you made it to your car. you couldn't even say why you were crying. you weren't upset over the breakup. if anything, you were relieved. maybe it was the fact that you tried so hard to fix something and failed.

your mind was on autopilot, driving through the crowded streets until you reach k's apartment. you wipe at your face as you knock on the door though you know it wouldn't help. you just knew your face was red and swollen from you crying. and you knew you were right when k opened the door, face falling at the sight of you.

you open your mouth to speak, but the only thing that comes out is a quiet sob. he immediately pulls you into his arms, holding you as he brings you into his apartment. "what happened? did he hurt you?"

"i left him."

he stayed quiet, letting you release all of the emotions, all of the pain of the last 2 years. he didn't say a word the whole time, just rubbed your back as you tried to calm yourself down. once your cries slowed down, he helped you over to the couch. he grabbed the blanket off of the back of the couch before draping it over your shoulders.

"you can stay here as long as you need." he told you as he stood to get you something to drink. you nod your head when you notice someone else walk into the room. you glance up to see k's girlfriend. you had only met her once before, but the way she was looking at you– her expression shifts. you could tell she knew what you were going through.

she moves to your side, gently placing her hand on your shoulder. "i've been there. i know how you're feeling, but don't think you owe anyone anything. if you don't want to ever speak another word about it, don't."

k returns back with a cup of tea. he sits it in front of you before sitting on the other side of you. the three of you were quiet– the sound finally bringing comfort to you. maybe it was just your mind that was quiet. you finally felt free, calm. you felt like you could breath for the first time in you didn't know how long.

you couldn't bring yourself to talk just yet, but you didn't want to be completely alone just yet. and she could tell. you and her stay on the couch for a while even after k went to bed. she curled up under a blanket on the opposite side of the couch from you, far away enough for distance but still close.

you rest your now cold tea on your knees as you stare out of the window in front of you. "i feel so stupid for staying with him for so long."

"you're not stupid." her voice soft and calm.

"i just- i wanted for so long for things to work out. i thought it was my fault that he was acting like this. that if i just worked harder for him and kept quiet, things would go back to the way they were before." you blink back tears, tired of crying. "i thought if i stopped being myself, he'd finally see me again."

"you didn't stay because you were stupid. you stayed because you thought he would change. you saw him before the change, so why couldn't he change back?" you look over at her to see her staring out of the window, deep in her own thoughts as well. "i know it doesn't feel like it now, but it takes so much strength to leave. try not to overanalyze everything that went wrong and try to blame yourself because you didn't fail. he did."

"i should've left sooner."

she nodded her head– agreeing that she should've as well. "you did though. you realized that you deserved better, and you left. that is what matters. you are the only person who is in control of you life, and now you have free rein to do whatever you want to do."

▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞

you don't show up to the show the next day. or the day after either. and before you knew it, you were mia for an entire week. thankfully you had staff that knew how to run the shop without you since you couldn't bring yourself to do much of anything. once you were sure they had everything handled, you didn't touch your phone again. you just wanted a small break– a breather before you jumped back into the real world.

k's girlfriend was the most understanding through everything. she always made sure you were taken care of whether that mean always having food in the fridge or stopping by with your favorites between her clients.

the only thing that worried you was yuma. you know he was worried because k told you. he called you a couple of times before going to k. k told him you were staying with him, but he said that you would reach out to him when you were ready. you were ready to talk to him, and that scared you. was it too soon to do anything since you just got out of a relationship? you did bring this up with k's girlfriend, and she understood you completely.

"you don't have to do anything you don't want to, but if you want to be with him, don't let your fears stop you. i did a lot of healing on my own, but k helped me heal in ways that i couldn't do by myself."

so here you were, in your happy place– elbows deep in an engine. but not just any. it was yuma's car. the last part came in while you were gone, and the staff was under strict instruction to not touch his car. you installed the part, ran diagnostics, and made sure that the car was in perfect condition for him. only then did you stop working on it.

you lean back up, shutting the hood when you see him dressed in his typical all black attire. you could tell he didn't know if you wanted him there, arms crossed as he stood in the doorway. "hi, yuma."

"hi, yn." his voice soft as it reached you. your name sounded weird coming from his lips and not the usual sweetheart. he was being respectful of you, and that meant more to you that he knew. "are you okay with me being here? i can leave. i just- i wanted to make sure you were okay."

you were quiet for a minute as you wipe your hands clean. "i'm okay, or at least i will be."

"do you want me to leave?" you could see his shoulders relax when you shake your head no. you turn to grab the car keys before tossing them to him.

"i want you to stay and test drive your car because she's done."

"she's done?" there's resistance in his tone– like since you're done with the car, that's it. everything between you two would be done. you nod your head. "then i want you to test drive it with me. i mean, as much work as you put into it, she's just as much yours as she is mine."

you smile, letting out a small laugh. "does that mean we'll be sharing custody of her?"

"i get her on the weekends." you laugh along with him as he steps forward. he tosses the keys back to you. "since you fixed her, why don't you drive."

you freeze for a second. racers don't let just anyone drive their cars. the fact that he wants you to says a lot. "are you sure?"

"positive." he walked over, opening the driver's side door for you. you slide into the seat, waiting for him to get in before you start the car. you turn the keys, hearing the engine purr to life under your fingers.

he watches you as you pull out of the shop before driving onto the empty road. the car drives just like you hoped it would– perfect. everything that was once wrong with it was fixed. every shift, every turn now smooth as you speed down the empty roads.

you could feel that his eyes never left your. it was clear he wasn't interested in the car right now. "you fixed everything."

"i told you she would be perfect by the time i got done with her." you respond as you leave the city before letting the car coast as you drive.

"she sure is."

you look over to him, thinking he was talking about the car, but you met his eyes instead. you smile as you look back to the road, realizing he wasn't talking about the car at all. you two let the comfortable silence in while you drive. he moves his hand, resting it on the center console next to yours. he lets his fingers brush yours– watching as you make no move to get away from him. once he knows that it's okay with you, he hooks his finger with yours.

you glance down at your hands before looking over at him with a teasing smile. "you can hold my hand. i don't bite."

"only if you want me to."

you do, so you take the initiative– moving your hand into his. his hand holds onto yours tightly like he doesn't want to let you go and neither do you, so he holds onto your hand the entire drive. including when you pull over off the side of the road. you put the car in park, keeping your hand in his as you stare out of the window.

"i want to thank you." yuma looks over at you.

"thank me for what? if anything, i should be thanking you."

"you helped me see things that i wasn't able to. i don't think i would've had the strength to leave if it wasn't for you." his hand squeezes yours as he shifts as his other hand brushes against your cheek.

"you are the strongest and smartest woman i have ever met. i think you've would've left him if it wasn't for me, but i love that i was able to help you see your worth. he didn't deserve you. hell, i don't even deserve you, but i want to try. i want to prove to you that i won't ever treat you like he did." your breath hitches at his words. you didn't think you deserved him, and here he was thinking the complete opposite. his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, catching your attention. "can i?"

you didn't even need to think about it, nodding your head. he leans in, lips just barely brushing yours at first– like he was giving you one last chance to pull away. when you didn't, his lips pressed fully to yours. his lips were soft, gentle as his hand cupped your cheek. you feel yourself fully relax into the kiss as he kisses away all of your concerns.

your eyes meet his as he pulls away, moving to kiss your cheek. your breaths mingled as he rested his forehead against yours. "thank you."

"for what?" you ask.

"for giving me a chance and trusting me." he answered. "i won't let you down."

"you better not because i'm taking full custody if you do." his smile was bright as he let out a laugh.

"trust me, sweetheart. if i manage to, she's all yours. but i won't let you down."

it was you who closed the distance a second time. you moved your hands to cup his cheeks– his resting on your hips. he let you pick the pace because he was okay with whatever you chose to give him. you kept it slow until it slowly started to become heated. his tongue ran along the edge of your lips, but before you could open your lips, your phone rang– scaring the two of you apart.

"damn you, k." you mumble as you look down at your phone, rubbing your face as you sent him to voicemail. yuma chuckled, resting his head on your shoulder as you sent him a text telling him you were fine.

"so, i'm supposed to be racing this weekend." yuma said quietly. you nod your head, vaguely remembering k mentioning something about it. "i was going to cancel, but since she's done i don't have to."

"try not to wreck our masterpiece." he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

"don't feel like you have to or anything, but i want you there." you look over to him when he raised his head. "i wouldn't have a car if it weren't for you. and i want you to see me win."

you move your hand up, brushing his hair out of his face. "i'll be there."

"do you think i could see you before then?" he asked, voice hopeful leading you to chuckle.

"what happened to your teasing?"

"your lips." you laughed at his answer. you pout your lips watching as his eyes drift down immediately causing you to smile.

"good to know for any future arguments."

"bold of you to assume i'm ever going to argue with you."

you chuckle as you shift away from him. "you want to drive her back?"

"you're giving me back custody already?" he mused, but got out of the car along with you.

he drove the two of you back to the city. his hand stayed on your thigh the entire time, squeezing occasionally. and when he dropped you off at k's apartment, he refused to let you get out of the car without kissing him– leaving you breathless before promising to see you soon.

▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞

the street is already alive– loud with chatter and music as you follow behind k and his girlfriend. it felt weird stepping onto the racing scene again. the last time was almost a month ago, and you were unknowingly at your lowest point. so miserable and not realizing it.

now, you were working on being happy– on being free. you still had a long way to go, but there was someone specific that was helping you. someone who was waiting for you. someone who would keep waiting on you for as long as you need even though you didn't need any time. you just wanted the man who was leaning on the car you and him had worked hard on the last few weeks.

you hear yelling when some of k's friends realize he's here. you move away from them before walking over to yuma who was already staring at you. "nervous?"

"why would i be? i have the best car hear that has been worked on by the best mechanic there is." you roll your eyes at his compliment. his hand reaches for yours, interlocking before squeezing softly. "you okay?"

you nod. "i'm ready to watch you kick some ass."

"then who am i to disappoint?"

it was then that an arm handed on your shoulder, nearly dragging you down with its' weight. you look over to see maki smiling between the two of you. he was a friend of k's and a fellow racer, and you have the honor of being his mechanic for his bike.

"yn, we need to have a conversation." he drops his voice low, so only you and yuma could hear him. "why him out of all people?"

you cough out a laugh when you hear yuma scoff. "i'm a hell of a lot better than you, asshole."

"as if." he smirks before looking at you. "come on, yn. tell him i'm better."

"you're going to be standing here for a while if you want me to say that." maki gasps at your words, faking hurt when you shove his arm off of you before moving closer to yuma. yuma wraps his arm around you, resting it on your hip as he kisses the side of your head.

"everyone's getting girls now." maki pouted. "you're the third one. where's mine?"

"i thought you were stuck on that girl who you race against?" yuma asked. you raise your brows when maki lets out a loud groan.

"she hates me, dude."

"i wonder why." you nudge yuma when he mutters that under his breath.

"keep trying, maki. there's nothing better than a good enemies to lovers." maki grumbles under his breath, still upset over it as he gets pulled into a conversation with nicholas. it was then that they announced that the next race was to start soon. you turn towards yuma. "don't mess her up."

"wouldn't dream of it." he smirks. "do i get a good luck kiss?"

you think about it for a moment before shaking your head. "you only get one if you win. maybe a little something else if you're lucky."

you watch as his eyes darken slightly as you pull away. he tries to grab you, but you move out of his reach before turning to leave with the rest of the guys. you stand next to k's girlfriend behind the lines as you watch as yuma and his opponent pull up. she let out a sound of disgust as she saw who he was driving against– as did you. it was one of jiyoung's friends.

"yuma better win." she told you.

"he will." you said, filled with confidence causing her to look over at you.

"you're that confident in your boyfriend?"

"he's not my boyfriend." you answer.

"yet." you roll your eyes.

"but he may be getting a prize if he wins." she gasps at your words.

"naughty girl."

you lean against the barrier as they get ready for the race to start. and once it does, the two cars instantly take off, but it's yuma who takes the lead. you watch as his disappears, reappearing a few minutes later– the other car no where in sight. you, along with the rest of the guys, cheer as yuma wins the race.

you fall back as the rest of the guys congratulate yuma first. he's all smiles, but you could tell he was annoyed. you couldn't tell why until his eyes landed on yours. he moves in your direction, stopping right in front of you.

"do i get my prize, sweetheart?" you smile at him, walking into his arms.

"what do you want for your prize?" his eyes drift down to your lips. "just a kiss? such a shame. i was feeling a little generous tonight."

his hands tighten on your waist as he lets out a sharp breath. "you're going to be the death of me."

"you can't die just yet. i'm too young to be a single parent."

he laughs, pulling you closer before connecting your lips. gone with the gentle from before. his lips were rough as they moved against yours heatedly– making you swallow a moan that threatened to escape. you rested you hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his clothes.

"seriously?" yuma hands tighten around you as you pull away, looking behind you to see jiyoung standing there– anger clear on his features. "that didn't take long. i knew this is why you wanted to leave me."

yuma feels you tense against him. he gives your waist a reassuring squeeze before he moves in front of you, blocking you from jiyoung. "back off."

jiyoung lets out a bitter laugh. "of course you're coming to her rescue. she's not worth it man."

"you don't get to talk to her like that anymore." yuma's voice was low, warning jiyoung to back off. "leave before i make you."

"you think this is going to last?" jiyoung questions. "take it from me. she'll bail on you, too."

you find your voice, leaning out from behind yuma. "i didn't bail. i left you– plain and simple. something i should've done a lone time ago."

your words land as you want them to because jiyoung doesn't respond. he just turns to leave after giving you one last glare. you let out a breath you weren't realizing you were holding. yuma turns to you, wrapping his arms around you securely.

"are you okay?"

you nod your head as you look up. his eyes were full of worry, but they softened when you looked at him– tense muscles relaxing as well. "thank you."

"he doesn't deserve anymore of you." his voice was low. "no more time. no more energy."

you feel a weight fall off your shoulders at his words. he was right– jiyoung didn't deserve anymore of your time. you knew after tonight, you wouldn't look back at him. you wouldn't think of him again because you deserve more. you deserve the man standing in front of you looking at you like you mean something to him.

your hands grip his shirt before pulling him to you. his arms hold you steady when his lips collide with yours. instead of giving your energy to jiyoung, you wanted to give it to yuma, and he could definitely feel the change. his tongue brushed against yours, a low moan sliding from your lips that had him cursing before he pulled away. his eyes were clouded as he rested his head against yours.

"can we go somewhere?" your words were quiet, almost unsure if yuma heard them, but he did.

"i'll take you where ever you tell me."

you smile, letting your lips brush against his. "can we go to your place?"

"are you sure?" he asks, looking for any signs of you changing your mind. you nod your head, moving to hold his hand as he led you back to his car. you two saw your short goodbyes to your friends before he helps you get into his car.

the car ride was silent on the way to his place, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. he kept his hand in yours the whole way there– thumb running along your hand. and once he helped you out of the car and led you up to his place, you thought at first he was unsure if he wanted to take it further, but that wasn't it. he was letting you tell him what you wanted– whatever that may be.

you smile, letting out a teasing laugh as you move closer to him. "you going to stand there all night?"

"i don't want to push you." you soften at his words. you grab his wrists, pulling him closer to you as you wrap his arms around your waist.

"you're not." your voice was soft as you move your hands, running along his arms before resting them on his shoulders. his eyes watch your every move before returning back to yours. "you've been so patient with me, but i don't want to wait anymore. i just want you."

that was all the push he needed, leaning down and kissing you– slow and deep. your hands tangle into his hair as he backs you into a wall with a new urgency. now that he knew what you wanted, he was going to give it to you. his hands explore your body while his tongue collides with yours.

his lips leave yours, trailing along your jaw and neck. and when he feels you relax in his arms like you wanted this just as bad as he did had him groaning into your ear. "tell me what you need, sweetheart."

"yuma-" you gasp when his lips attach to your neck, sucking a dark mark onto your skin. your back arches into him– him gripping your hips tighter at the action. "you. i need you."

his hands squeeze your thighs, and in one smooth motion, lifts you into his arms. you let out a shocked gasped that's drowned out by his lips as he leads you to his room. "i've got you, sweetheart, and i'm not letting go."

he pins you to the mattress as he slides over you– dark eyes memorizing every inch of you. his hands slip beneath your shirt, dragging the material slowly, kissing your skin as it's revealed to him. "my beautiful girl."

once your shirt is off, his hands are on you– cupping and squeezing your breasts. you jerk when his thumbs brush over your nipple through the thin bra you were wearing, back arching at his touch. he takes the chance to slide his hand under you, unclipping your bra before sliding it down your arms.

"i'm going to make you feel good, sweetheart." he mumbled, warm breath brushing over your breasts. "so good."

he leans in, fully taking on in his mouth– tongue flicking over the bud as his hand plays with your other breast. you moan out when he rolls your nipple between his fingers, never too rough. he was listening to every sound you make before leading in the direction that he knew would make you feel best.

"don't hold back." his voice thick, rough when he notices you biting your lip. "i want to hear every sound that comes out of those pretty lips."

to prove his point, his teeth light graze your nipple, smirking when you throw your head back– a moan slipping past your lips. he continues to lick and suck your breasts until you were begging him for more, shifting your hips into his. his hands trail along your waistband making you whine out.

"are you going to let me make you feel good?" you nod your head, watching as he kisses down your stomach– stopping when he reached your waistband. "lift your hips for me."

you do as he says, and he hooks his fingers into your waistband before pulling them down your legs, slow enough to have you almost whine out his name. "yuma-"

"i know." he coos softly, kissing lower down your stomach to where you were throbbing for him. "but i want to take my time. show you what it's like to be treated right."

he moves your legs from where the were wrapped around him before opening them and settling between them. he place a few more kisses to your inner thighs before he lowers his mouth onto you, dragging a whimper out of you when his tongue drags through your folds. he groans at the taste of you before diving in fully.

he starts out slow and gentle, driving out every single sound out of your lips. his tongue circles your clit, pushing down enough to have your squirming beneath him before easing into you. he picks a rhythm that has your toes curling– heels pressing into the bed as you cry out.

"fuck- yuma." you feel him chuckle against you as you shift your hips towards his face. his arm wraps around you, resting on your lower stomach to hold you steady.

and just when you thought he couldn't switch it up again, he added a finger– then two, groaning when he felt you clenching around him. he latched onto your clit, sucking while his fingers curled inside of you hitting the spot that had you crying out– back arching at the feeling.

"you sound so good, sweetheart." he murmured, pulling back far enough to see your face when he curls his fingers again. he watched as your face contorted into pleasure as his name left your lips in a breathless gasp. "god, and you're all mine now, aren't you?"

"a-all yours, yuma."

"that's right, sweetheart. and you're going to let me show you everyday how you deserve to be treated. isn't that right?" he didn't give you a chance to respond before his lips attach to you once again. you cry out, thighs clenching around his head as the pressure in your stomach started to build up. "i feel you squeezing my fingers. is my girl close?" you could do nothing but nod, feeling every knuckle as he increased his speed. "let go."

those two words was all it took for you to unravel, thighs clenching almost painfully around his head, but he stayed right where he was– not moving even when you had come down. you try to move away from him, sensitive from your release. "yuma-"

"i don't think i can stop." he moaned into you, feeling you jerk at the sensation. "you can let me give you one more right? maybe even more?"

you groan out, but make no move to stop him– giving him the green light which he greedily took. he once again worked his mouth and fingers in unison to bring you to your second release. one hand grabbed his wrist and the other grabbed the sheets as your stomach started tensing again.

his name fell from your lips as your second release hit you, somehow harder than the first one. your hips jerk at the overstimulation of him as he pulled away from you finally. his lips and chin were shining with your release as he shoved his fingers in his mouth, groaned as he sucked them clean.

"that was the prettiest thing i've ever seen." he says as he moves back up your body, brushing your hair out of your face before slamming his lips onto yours. you respond instantly, arms wrapping around his neck as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. he shifts above you, moving closer to you causing you to feel the harsh outline of him through his jeans. you roll your hips into him, listening as he sharply inhales at the feeling.

"please, yuma." you whine into his mouth. his hips jerk when you squeeze him through his pants. "i want you."

"who am i to deny you?" he smirks against your lips, rolling his hips into yours one last time before sitting up. he removes the rest of his clothes before sliding back in between your legs. his lips move against yours as he pulls a condom out before slipping it on.

his hands grip your thighs, opening them more for him as he nudges against you. "look at me."

as soon as you do, he pushes inside of you, slowly to allow both of you to feel everything. he groans, pressing his forehead to yours as your nails dig into his arms. your breath hitches as his hips push flush against yours. "you're so fucking perfect."

he starts to move, slow but deep as you adjust to him. once he feels how you open up to him, he increases his speed, dragging a gasp from you. his arm holds your thigh close to his while his other rests next to your head as his lips press to yours.

"that's it." he whispers as he feels you relax into him. "let me take care of you."

and you do. you let yourself completely fall into him– every thrust, every time your name falls from his lips. just as he completely falls into you, adjusting until your almost trembling in his hold. you cry out against his lips. "yuma..."

"let go for me. i've got you." his lips brush against yours. "i'm not going anywhere."

your body feels spent when you reach your third release– this time with his hand laced in yours while he kisses every inch of you. he follows soon after, groaning into your shoulder as he shudders with his release. he pulls away just barely, just enough to see your face.

"are you okay?"

you let go of his hand, moving to cup his cheeks. "i'm so much more than okay thanks to you."

he smiles before kissing you, this time much softer. once he pulls away, he gets the two of you cleaned up– putting you into one of his shirts before he settles into bed next to you. you lay face to face, hands interlocked as you look into his eyes.

"i've never felt anything like this." your voice was soft, almost hoarse from your activities. "i've always felt like i had to walk on egg shells. i could never just be me, always pretending to be someone i'm not just to please them. i don't feel that with you."

"and you're never going to." he tells you. "i don't want you to pretend around me. i fell for you, the real you. not the fake one."

"i didn't think anyone would want her." your voice was raw, almost cracking with emotion.

yuma pulled you close to him, resting his hand on your cheek as he kissed you. he kisses away all of your worries and fears before pulling away. "but i do. i want every part of you."

"do i get every part of you too?" you had a small smile on your lips.

"you already do."

you kiss him again before pulling away slightly. "good. i'd hate to take you to court over the car."

his laugh was bright, bringing a smile to your face. "you can only have the car if i'm included."

you pretend to think about it for a moment before nodding your head. "deal."

you turned your head, cheek pressed to the cushion. “yeah?”

he didn’t look at you right away. his ears had gone a little pink.

“shibari,” he said. then, quicker, like he needed to get it out before he lost his nerve: “i’ve been looking into it. not the suspension stuff—i’m not that good yet. just… tying. the way it looks. the way it feels. i thought maybe… if you wanted… we could try it. together.”

your cunt clenched so hard around nothing it almost hurt.

yuma finally glanced over, nervous but hopeful. “i bought some rope. soft stuff. i’ve been practicing on a pillow like an idiot for two weeks. i know the basic chest harness and a box tie. i watched a bunch of tutorials on safety and circulation and shit. i even bought safety shears.” he rubbed the back of his neck. “i just… i keep thinking about how pretty you’d look. and how much i’d like to see you let go like that. completely. but only if you want it. if it’s too much, we can forget i said anything.”

you sat up slowly. your heart was beating in your throat.

“i want it,” you said, and your voice came out rougher than you expected. “i’ve been wanting… something. i don’t know how to explain it. it’s not that what we have is bad, it’s just—”

“safe,” yuma finished quietly. he nodded like he understood. “i’ve felt it too. like we’re in this really good rhythm and i don’t want to mess it up, but part of me keeps wondering what it would feel like if i pushed a little harder. if i made you really helpless for once.”

the honesty in his voice made something in your chest loosen.

you talked for almost an hour after that.

he showed you the rope—deep black, soft cotton, nothing cheap. he let you feel it between your fingers. he explained the ties he wanted to try, showed you pictures on his phone (all artistic, consensual, beautiful). he told you he’d practiced the release knots until his fingers ached. you set a safeword together—the same one you always used, just in case. you talked about what “green/yellow/red” would look like when you couldn’t use your hands. you talked about aftercare. about what you both needed if it got intense.

by the time you went to bed that night, you were so wet you had to change your underwear.

you didn’t do it right away. yuma wanted to make sure he was actually ready, not just horny and impulsive. so for the next week and a half, it became this slow, delicious secret between you.

he’d text you during the day—pictures of rope laid out on the bed, or a new tutorial he’d found, or just a simple thinking about you tied up rn. can’t focus at work.

you’d send him back increasingly desperate replies.

one night he came over after a late practice and spent an hour just tying your arms behind your back over your clothes, nothing sexual, just practicing the tension and the feel of the rope on skin. he checked your circulation every few minutes, made you wiggle your fingers, asked if anything pinched. when he finally untied you, your arms were warm and heavy and you were so turned on you almost begged him to fuck you right there on the living room floor.

he didn’t. he kissed you slow and deep and told you, “not yet. i want the first time to be right.”

the night it finally happened, the air in the apartment felt different the second you walked in.

yuma had cleaned. really cleaned. the good candles were lit—the ones that smelled like sandalwood and something sweet. the bedroom was warm, low light, sheets fresh. the rope was already laid out on the bed in neat coils, safety shears on the nightstand like a quiet promise that if it got too much—there was an immediate out.

he met you at the door with a kiss that tasted like nerves and mint.

“you sure?” he asked against your mouth, hands sliding under your jacket to rest at your waist. “we can still just watch a movie. no pressure.”

you looked up at him—your steady, careful, secretly filthy boyfriend—and felt something molten settle low in your stomach.

“i’m sure,” you said. “i want this. i want you to tie me up and fuck me until i forget how to think. and i want to feel it tomorrow.”

yuma’s smirked at your words—exhale shaky as his hands tightened.

“okay,” he whispered. “then let’s do it right.”

he took his time undressing you.

not rushed, not frantic—slow, almost worshipful. he peeled off your layers one by one, kissing each new inch of skin like he was mapping it for the first time. when you were finally bare, he stepped back and just looked at you for a long moment, eyes dark.

“on the bed,” he said quietly. “on your back first. arms up by the headboard.”

you obeyed.

the first touch of rope against your skin made you shiver.

yuma started with the chest harness.

he worked in sections, explaining softly as he went—not because you needed the tutorial, but because talking seemed to steady his hands. the rope slid over your ribs, under your breasts, around your back. he pulled it snug but not tight, checking the tension with two fingers every time. when he finished the first layer and the rope framed your tits, pushing them forward slightly, he sat back on his heels and stared.

“jesus christ,” he breathed. “you look… fuck.”

you could feel how wet you already were, thighs pressing together instinctively.

he kept going.

the box tie for your arms took longer. he wanted it perfect—secure enough that you couldn’t slip out, comfortable enough that you could stay in it for a while. he guided your arms behind your back, wrapped your forearms together, then started the intricate pattern across your upper back and chest that locked everything in place. every new pass of rope made you feel smaller, more contained, more his.

he checked in constantly.

“still green?”

“wiggle your fingers for me.”

“tell me if anything goes numb or tingles wrong.”

between sections he kissed you—your mouth, your throat, the tops of your breasts where the rope framed them. by the time he finished the final knot at the small of your back, you were trembling, cunt throbbing, so turned on it almost hurt.

yuma sat back and looked at his work.

you couldn’t move your arms at all. the chest harness made every breath feel more deliberate. your nipples were tight, sensitive from the way the rope pushed everything forward. you felt displayed. owned. perfect.

“color?” he asked, voice rough.

“green,” you managed. “so green it’s embarrassing.”

he laughed, shaky, and leaned down to kiss you again—deeper this time, one hand sliding between your legs to find you soaked.

“good kitty—fuck,” he whispered against your mouth. “you’re dripping already and i haven’t even touched you properly.”

he took his time after that too.

he ate you out while you were bound, slow and thorough, like he had all night. he used his fingers and his tongue until your thighs were shaking around his head and you were begging—actually begging—in a way you hadn’t in months. when he finally pushed inside you, it was with a low groan that sounded like he’d been holding it back for hours.

the sex was intense in a way it hadn’t been in a long time.

with your arms bound you couldn’t touch him, couldn’t pull him closer, couldn’t do anything but take what he gave you. yuma used that. he held the chest harness like a handle, pulling you onto his cock with every thrust. he fucked you deep and steady, angling his hips exactly right, one hand working your clit in tight circles until you came so hard your vision whited out and you sobbed his name.

he followed soon after, burying himself deep, filling you up with a broken moan against your throat.

for a while afterward, there was nothing but breathing and the warm, heavy press of his body against yours.

then he tried to untie you.

it started fine. he loosened the decorative wraps on your chest, kissed the marks they left behind. but when he reached the main knot at the small of your back — the one that held the entire box tie together—his fingers slowed.

“…yuma?”

he tugged once. twice. frowned.

“it’s not—shit. it’s not moving.”

you felt the first real thread of unease curl through the afterglow.

he tried again, gentler, then with more pressure. the rope didn’t give. if anything, it seemed to have cinched tighter from the way you’d been moving and sweating and arching under him.

yuma sat back on his heels, staring at the knot like it had personally betrayed him.

“i don’t understand. i practiced this. i did it exactly the same way on the pillow.”

your shoulders were starting to ache now that the adrenaline was fading. not painful yet, but a deep, warm heaviness that wasn’t comfortable anymore.

“yuma,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “it’s okay. just… try the safety shears if you have to. i don’t mind losing the rope.”

he shook his head, jaw tight. “i don’t want to cut it if i don’t have to. the whole point was to be able to untie you properly.” he tried again, fingers working carefully at the trapped tail of the knot. nothing. “fuck. i think it pulled in on itself when you came. the tension’s all wrong.”

he worked at it for another ten minutes, growing more frustrated with every failed attempt. you could feel the shift in the room — the post-sex haze turning into something tighter, more anxious. your arms were definitely starting to protest now. not emergency-level, but enough that you were acutely aware of how immobile you still were.

yuma finally sat back, breathing hard, and reached for his phone on the nightstand.

“i’m calling nicholas.”

you blinked. “nicholas? why?”

yuma was already scrolling, ears red. “because he’s done this before. not with me, of course—with other people. remember that night we were all drinking at k’s place and he started talking about that ex who was really into rope? he said he learned how to tie and untie properly so he wouldn’t fuck it up. and he’s… he’s good in situations like this. calm. i trust him.”

he looked at you, phone already ringing.

“only if you’re okay with it. i can keep trying, or i can cut it right now. your call.”

you hesitated for half a second — the idea of nicholas seeing you like this, naked and bound and messy with yuma’s cum still leaking out of you, sent a confusing rush of heat through your already sensitive body—then nodded.

“okay,” you said quietly. “call him.”

nicholas arrived twenty minutes later.

he knocked once, let himself in when yuma called out, and stepped into the bedroom with his usual easy posture—hoodie, sweats, hair still damp from a shower like he’d come straight over. his eyes flicked over the scene once, quick and assessing: you on the bed, still mostly tied, flushed and marked, yuma sitting beside you looking stressed and guilty.

he didn’t laugh. didn’t make a joke right away.

he just closed the door behind him and said, “hey. you okay?”

the question was directed at you.

you swallowed. “yeah. arms are getting sore but circulation’s fine. just… stuck.”

nicholas nodded, then looked at yuma. “you tried the usual release?”

“everything,” yuma said, rubbing his face. “i think i pulled it too tight during… y’know.”

nicholas’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t comment. he moved to the side of the bed, crouched down so he was level with your back, and gently touched the stuck knot with two fingers. his hands were warm. steady.

“yeah,” he said after a moment. “it’s seized. sweat and movement’ll do that, especially if the tail got trapped. i can work it out, but it’s gonna take time and i’ll have to be careful. cutting’s always an option if you want out fast.”

he glanced at yuma, then back at you.

“i’m happy to help. no judgment, seriously. but i’m not gonna lie—walking in here and seeing you like this…” his voice dropped a little, teasing but not cruel. “it’s doing things to my brain. so if i’m gonna sit here and work on this knot for the next twenty minutes, i need to know what the vibe is. because i can be very professional about this. or…” he let the sentence hang. “i can be helpful in other ways too. if that’s something you’re both open to.”

the room went very quiet.

yuma’s hand found yours—or tried to, since your arms were still bound. his fingers brushed your hip instead.

“baby?” he asked softly. “what do you want?”

you looked at nicholas—calm, patient, giving you every out in the world—and then at yuma, whose ears were burning red but whose cock was already half-hard again against his thigh.

the slow burn that had been building all week, all month, all the quiet frustration you’d both been feeling, suddenly had somewhere to go.

you took a shaky breath.

“um…i want…” your voice came out smaller than you meant it to. “i want you to help with the knot. and i want… whatever else happens while you do it. if yuma’s okay with it.”

yuma’s exhale was shaky, but when he spoke, his voice was steady.

“i’m okay with it,” he said. “more than okay. i’ve been thinking about it since i called him, honestly. seeing you like this… with someone else looking at you…” he swallowed. “it’s doing something to me i didn’t expect. so if you want this—if you want him to touch you while he gets you out—i’m in. i’ll be right here the whole time.”

nicholas’s smile was small and warm and a little dangerous.

“alright,” he said quietly. “then let’s take our time.”

he started with the parts of the harness that weren’t stuck—loosening the chest wraps first, working slowly, deliberately. every time a strand of rope came free he ran his fingers over the marks it left behind, soothing the skin. his touch was confident in a way yuma’s had been careful. different. new.

“you did good work,” he told yuma without looking up. “the harness is clean. it’s just this one knot that’s being a bitch.”

yuma didn’t answer. he was watching nicholas’s hands on you like he couldn’t look away.

nicholas kept talking as he worked—low, conversational, but the words started to shift.

“bet you felt real pretty while he was tying you,” he murmured, fingers brushing the side of your breast as he loosened another wrap. “all wrapped up and helpless. yuma’s got good taste.”

you shivered.

he noticed.

his hand paused, then deliberately stroked down your side, over the curve of your waist, down to your hip. not quite between your legs yet. just… close.

“you use the color system?” he asked, fingers lingering on the inner of your thigh.

you nodded.

“good to know, ”nicholas said, voice low and approving. “i’ll keep going slow, though. i’m still gonna work on this knot, but i’m not gonna pretend my hands are only here for the rope anymore.”

his fingers finally moved higher.

he didn’t rush. while his left hand stayed busy loosening the last stubborn sections of the chest harness, his right hand slid fully between your thighs. two fingers dragged slowly through your folds, gathering the mess yuma had left inside you earlier and spreading it up over your clit in one long, deliberate stroke.

you gasped. your hips twitched up before you could stop them.

nicholas made a quiet, pleased sound.

“still so wet,” he murmured. “even after everything. yuma really did a number on you, didn’t he?”

yuma hadn’t moved from his spot on the edge of the bed. his hand was wrapped around his cock again, stroking slow and tight, eyes locked on nicholas’s fingers as they circled your clit with lazy, confident pressure. his breathing had gone shallow. every time nicholas touched you, yuma’s hand moved a little faster.

nicholas kept talking as he worked—low, conversational, almost gentle even as his words turned filthy.

“bet you felt so pretty while he was tying you up,” he said again, softer this time. “all wrapped up and helpless. couldn’t do anything but take what he gave you. and now look at you.” his fingers dipped lower, pressing two inside you without warning. the stretch made your back arch. 

“still letting someone else touch you while you’re stuck. such a good girl.”

you whimpered. the remaining ropes dug into your flesh as your body tried to move on instinct.

nicholas’s fingers curled inside you, slow and deep, finding that gummy spot that made your thighs shake. his thumb stayed on your clit, rubbing tight little circles that had you seeing stars almost immediately. he was still loosening rope with his other hand, like this was the most normal thing in the world—like fingering you while he untied you was just another part of helping.

“color?” he asked again, voice steady even as he pushed his fingers deeper.

“mmph—gre-green.” you managed, voice cracking.

“good.” he rewarded you by adding a third finger, stretching you open while he worked at a particularly stubborn loop behind your back. “you’re taking me so well. yuma, your girl’s greedy. she’s squeezing my fingers like she wants more already.”

yuma’s voice was rough when he finally spoke.

“bet she does,” he said quietly. “she’s been like this all week. every time i texted her about the rope she’d send me these desperate little replies. i think she’s been waiting for something like this. fuckin’ needy kitty”

nicholas hummed, pleased, and leaned down to press a kiss to your inner thigh — soft, almost sweet—before he pulled his fingers out. he wiped them slowly on your skin, then shifted up the bed so he was kneeling beside your head.

he didn’t ask this time. he just tugged his sweatpants and boxers down in one smooth motion, then tapped the head of his heavy cock against your lips.

“open.”

you did.

he fed his cock into your mouth slowly, letting you feel the weight of it on your tongue. one hand braced on the headboard, the other still occasionally tugging at the rope behind your back. he didn’t thrust hard at first—just shallow, controlled movements that let you adjust. spit gathered at the corners of your mouth and dripped down your chin. he didn’t wipe it away. he let it make a mess.

yuma moved closer without being asked. he sat right beside your head, one hand stroking your hair, the other still working his own cock. every time nicholas pushed deeper into your throat, yuma’s fingers tightened in your hair—not pushing, just holding. grounding you.

“fuck,” yuma whispered. “you look so good like this. taking him so deep while you’re still half-tied up.”

nicholas groaned low in his chest, hips rolling forward a little more. his free hand slid down to your chest, fingers tracing the remaining ropes that framed your tits—pinching at your already sensitive nipples. 

you whined around his cock, causing him to buck slightly into the warmth of your mouth.

“she’s good at this,” he said, voice rougher now. “mouth feels like heaven. you’ve been keeping this all to yourself, yuma? selfish.”

yuma didn’t argue. he just smirked, eyes dark, hand moving faster on his cock.

nicholas pulled out of your mouth after a few minutes, cock shiny and wet. he wiped the head across your lower lip, smearing spit, then shifted back down between your thighs. he dragged his cock through your folds once, twice—slow, teasing.

“is this okay—?”

nicholas’s voice was low, rough around the edges, but steady. he was holding himself right there, the thick head of his cock nudging against your entrance, not pushing in yet. one hand braced on the bed beside your hip, the other still loosely tangled in the remaining rope at your back. his eyes flicked up to your face, then over to yuma, giving both of you the space to answer.

you nodded, voice small but clear. “green. it’s okay. i want it.”

yuma’s hand tightened in your hair for a second before he answered too, voice hoarse.

“yeah. it’s okay. just… don’t cum inside her.” his ears were burning red, but his cock twitched visibly in his fist. “i want to watch you use her. but i also don’t want my girlfriend pregnant with my best friends baby so… pull out just to be safe.”

nicholas’s mouth curved into that small, dangerous smirk again.

“got it.”

he pushed in.

slow. the stretch was deeper than his fingers had been, thicker, and you felt every inch as he sank into you. the remaining ropes creaked as your body tried to arch. nicholas stayed buried to the hilt for a long moment, letting you feel every inch while he finally worked the last of the main knot free. when it gave, he didn’t untie you completely. he just loosened the box tie enough that your arms had a little more room, then started to move.

“fuck,” he breathed. “so warm. so fucking tight even after yuma used you.”

long, deep strokes that rocked you up the bed. one hand on your hip, the other sliding up to fist gently in your hair, pulling your head back so he could watch your face while he fucked you. the remaining ropes creaked with every thrust. your chest harness stayed on, framing everything, making every breath feel tighter.

yuma leaned in and kissed you—messy, open-mouthed, swallowing your moans while nicholas fucked you harder. his hand found your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple where the rope pushed it forward.

nicholas’s pace stayed steady, controlled, even as he reached down to rub your clit with his thumb in tight, relentless circles.

“gonna come again,” he said, not a question. “i can feel it. you’re squeezing me so fucking tight.”

you came with a broken sob, thighs shaking, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the intensity. the overstimulation hit hard — too much, too soon after everything — but nicholas didn’t stop. he fucked you through it, pace never faltering, thumb still working your clit until you were crying from how good it felt and how much it was.

yuma kissed the tears off your cheeks, murmuring praise against your skin the whole time.

“look at you,” yuma rasped, voice low. “taking him so well while you’re still half-tied. my good kitty.”

nicholas made a pleased sound at the nickname and rewarded you by picking up the pace just a little. his hand left your thigh and slid up to your chest, fingers tracing the rope before he pinched one of your nipples, rolling it between his fingers until you whined around a moan.

“she likes that,” nicholas said, almost conversational, like he was giving yuma a tip. “gets tighter around me every time i play with her tits.”

he kept fucking you like that for a while—deep, steady, letting the pleasure build slow and thick in your stomach. his free hand eventually drifted down between your legs again, thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight, relentless circles that had your thighs shaking in minutes.

the overstimulation was creeping in fast. you’d already come twice tonight; your body was sensitive, oversensitive, but nicholas didn’t let up. he kept the pressure on your clit steady while he fucked you harder, the wet sound of it filling the room alongside your broken little noises.

“too much?” he asked, voice still low but teasing now. “or are you gonna be a good girl and come on my cock like you’re supposed to?”

you couldn’t answer with words. you just nodded frantically, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from how intense it felt.

nicholas’s hand in your hair tightened—not yuma’s gentle hold anymore, but a firm grip that pulled your head back so he could see your face while he fucked you.

“use your words, kitty.”

“g-green,” you gasped. “please— please don’t stop—”

“good girl.”

he fucked you harder after that.

the pace turned rougher, deeper, the headboard knocking softly against the wall. every thrust jolted you up the bed. the remaining ropes dug into your skin in the best way, a constant reminder that you were still bound, still helpless, still at their mercy. nicholas’s thumb never left your clit. he rubbed it in tight, fast circles that had you shaking, babbling, tears slipping down your temples.

yuma leaned down and kissed you through it—messy, open-mouthed, swallowing your moans while his hand worked his cock faster. every time you clenched around nicholas, yuma groaned like he could feel it too.

he pulled back, lips pink and a line of spit still connecting your mouths until he spoke.

“want me in your mouth, baby?”

yuma’s voice was low, rough with how turned on he was. he was still stroking himself, eyes flicking between your face and where nicholas was buried inside you. his hand in your hair was gentle, but there was a new tension in it—like he was holding himself back from just taking.

you nodded, voice hoarse. “yes. please.”

nicholas made a low, approving sound and slowed his thrusts just enough to let yuma move. he kept one hand on your clit, rubbing slow, tight circles that made your whole body twitch, while the other stayed fisted in the remaining rope at your back.

yuma shifted up the bed, kneeling beside your head. he tapped the head of his cock against your lips, smearing pre-cum across them.

“open up for me, kitty.”

you did.

he slid into your mouth with a shaky exhale, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other stayed tangled in your hair. he didn’t thrust hard at first — just rocked forward in shallow movements, letting you adjust, letting you taste him while nicholas kept fucking you from below.

the dual sensation was overwhelming.

nicholas’s cock hitting deep with every roll of his hips, his thumb never leaving your clit. yuma’s cock heavy on your tongue, stretching your mouth, the hand in your hair tightening every time you moaned around him. the remaining ropes creaked and dug into your skin with every movement, a constant reminder that you were still bound, still at their mercy.

“fuck,” yuma groaned, hips stuttering. “your mouth feels so good. look at you—taking both of us like this. my good, needy kitty.”

nicholas’s pace picked up again, rougher now. the wet sound of him fucking you filled the room alongside the obscene, slick noises of you sucking yuma’s cock. every time nicholas thrust in hard, it pushed you forward onto yuma’s cock, making you take him deeper.

nicholas’s free hand slid up to your chest, fingers tracing the rope before he pinched your nipple again, rolling it between his fingers.

“she’s squeezing me so fucking tight,” he said, voice strained. “every time you pull her hair she clenches around me. you feel that, yuma?”

yuma’s hand tightened in your hair on purpose, pulling just enough to make your scalp tingle. you whined around his cock and nicholas groaned at the way your cunt fluttered around him.

“yeah,” nicholas rasped. “just like that.”

he leaned down and spat on your clit—hot and filthy—then rubbed it in with his thumb, mixing it with your slick and the reminisce of yuma’s release. the extra wetness made everything more intense. you were shaking now, thighs trembling, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes as the overstimulation built and built.

yuma noticed. he wiped one of your tears with his thumb, voice softer even as he kept fucking your mouth.

“you’re doing so good, baby. taking us so well. you can come again, can’t you? be our good girl.”

nicholas’s thumb pressed harder on your clit, circling faster.

“come on, kitty,” he coaxed, voice low and rough. “come on my cock while your boyfriend fucks your throat. wanna feel you fall apart.”

nicholas’s thumb pressed harder on your clit, circling faster, relentless.

the pressure built fast—too fast. your body was already oversensitive, trembling, tears slipping down your temples from how intense everything felt. nicholas’s cock kept hitting that deep, perfect spot with every thrust. yuma’s hand tightened in your hair, pulling just enough to make your scalp burn in the best way while he fucked your mouth in shallow, controlled strokes.

you came hard.

it hit like a wave crashing over you. your whole body locked up, thighs shaking violently as the orgasm ripped through you. a broken, muffled sob escaped around yuma’s cock as your cunt clenched down hard around nicholas—and then you squirted.

hot, wet release gushed out around nicholas’s cock, soaking his hips, the sheets, and the remaining ropes. your vision whited out for a second. your body convulsed, another smaller spurt following the first as nicholas kept rubbing your clit through it, fucking you through the intense, overwhelming orgasm.

“fuuuck— there she is,” nicholas groaned, voice strained. “good fucking girl. look at you squirting all over me.”

yuma pulled out of your mouth just in time to watch, eyes wide and dark with awe.

“holy shit, baby…” he rasped. “you’re so fucking pretty.”

nicholas didn’t stop moving right away. he fucked you through the aftershocks, slower now but still deep, letting you ride out every twitch and pulse. only when your body finally started to go limp did he carefully pull out, his cock shiny and wet with your release.

he stroked himself fast, eyes locked on the mess between your legs and the way you were still trembling.

“shit—gonna come—” he warned, voice tight.

he came with a low, rough groan, thick ropes of cum painting your stomach, your chest, and the black ropes still framing your tits. he kept stroking through it, marking you while you were still shaking and teary from your orgasm.

yuma was right there beside your head, breathing hard. the sight of you squirting, crying, covered in nicholas’s cum seemed to push him over the edge too.

“fuck—can i come on your face, baby?” he asked, voice wrecked. “or in your mouth?”

you nodded weakly, still floaty. “mouth… please.”

yuma shifted forward again, tapping his cock against your lips. you opened for him without hesitation. he slid back in with a shaky moan and only lasted a few more shallow thrusts before he was coming too—hot and thick on your tongue. he pulled back just enough at the end so some of it spilled onto your lips and chin, marking you there as well.

for a long moment, the only sounds in the room were heavy breathing and the quiet creak of the remaining rope as your body slowly relaxed.

nicholas moved first, gentle again.

he carefully worked the last of the box tie free, massaging life back into your arms with steady hands. he checked your circulation, pressed soft kisses to every deep red mark the rope had left. yuma helped too—stepping away only for a second to blow out the candles, grab a warm wet cloth to wipe you clean, bringing water, pressing kisses to your wrists, your forehead, the center of your chest.

when you were finally completely free, they both helped you sit up slowly. nicholas supported your back while yuma made sure you drank. nicholas was the first to speak, voice quiet and a little rough.

“you good?”

you nodded, still floaty and sated. “yeah… really good. that was… intense.”

nicholas stayed long enough to make sure you were steady, long enough to ruffle yuma’s hair on the way out and say, casual as anything.

“soooo—same time, next week…? i’ve got ideas.”

yuma let out a quiet, breathless laugh, ears still pink as he waved him off.

“get out of here, man.”

the door clicked shut behind nicholas, and the apartment suddenly felt much quieter. just the low hum of the city outside the window and the soft sound of both of you breathing.

yuma turned back to you immediately.

he helped you sit up properly, then pulled you gently into his lap so your back was against his chest. his arms wrapped around you, warm and solid, one hand stroking slow circles over your stomach while the other rested over your heart. he pressed a long, soft kiss to the side of your shoulder, right over one of the faint rope marks.

“you okay?” he asked quietly, voice still a little rough. “really okay? that got… intense at the end.”

you nodded, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. your body still felt loose and heavy, pleasantly sore in all the right places. the marks from the ropes were already starting to bloom across your skin—faint red lines across your chest and arms that would probably darken by morning.

“i’m good,” you murmured. “really good. it was a lot, but… in the best way. i liked it. all of it.”

yuma let out a slow breath against your skin, like he’d been holding it in.

“yeah?” he asked, a little shy. “even the… watching part? me letting him touch you like that?”

you turned your head enough to look at him. his cheeks were still flushed, but his eyes were soft and open.

“especially that part,” you said honestly. “seeing how turned on you got… hearing you call me your good kitty while he was fucking me… it did something to me.” you reached up and touched his cheek. “and the way you were still so gentle with me the whole time. it made me feel safe. even when i was completely helpless.”

yuma’s arms tightened around you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck for a second, breathing you in.

“i didn’t know i’d like it that much,” he admitted, voice muffled against your skin. “watching him use you. seeing you fall apart like that. and then getting to be part of it too…” he pulled back just enough to look at you again, eyes warm. “it felt really good. like… i got to share something with you and still have you at the end. i liked taking care of you after. both of us taking care of you.”

you smiled, soft and a little sleepy.

“i liked that too,” you said. “all of it. the ropes. the way you two worked together. the way you looked at me the whole time.” you paused, then added quietly, “and i really liked squirting like that in front of both of you. felt… filthy. in a good way.”

yuma groaned softly, hiding his face in your shoulder again.

“don’t say that right now or i’m gonna get hard again,” he muttered, but you could feel him smiling against your skin.

you laughed, quiet and content.

the two of you stayed like that for a while—just breathing together, yuma’s hands slowly stroking over your arms and sides, checking the rope marks, pressing kisses to every one he found. eventually he helped you to the bathroom, ran a warm bath, and got in with you. he washed your hair gently, massaged your shoulders, and made sure every trace of cum and sweat was gone. you leaned back against his chest in the water, eyes half-closed, while he murmured soft praise against your temple.

“my good girl,” he whispered. “my brave, perfect kitty. thank you for trusting me with that. for trusting both of us.”

after the bath he dried you off carefully, rubbed lotion into the faint rope burns, and dressed you in one of his big soft t-shirts. he changed the sheets while you sat on the edge of the bed sipping water, then pulled you under the covers with him.

you curled into his chest, one leg thrown over his hip, his arms wrapped securely around you. the city lights glowed faintly through the curtains. everything felt warm and quiet and safe again.

yuma kissed the top of your head.

“next week…” he said after a moment, voice low and thoughtful. “if you still want to… i think i’d like to try again. maybe let nicholas tie you this time. or maybe just the two of us first, so i can practice more.” he paused. “or both. whatever you want.”

you smiled against his chest, already half-asleep.

“whatever we want,” you corrected softly. “we are in this together.”

yuma’s arms tightened around you one last time.

“always. together,” he agreed.

he held you close as you drifted off—marked, loved, and already dreaming about ropes, soft hands, and the loud, sweet and steady boy who had started it all.

© 𝘀𝗺𝗶𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗲 2026ㅤ ❤︎ㅤ 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 & 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗿 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 !

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: nekoz debut on my blog ~ ! i love this duo so im so surprised this is my first time writing them hehe i actually got this idea whilst chatting with friends in my discord server and had to make it a reality bc this plot was too good to pass up on (˶ ´༥` ˶) i hope u all enjoy this ~~ pls lmk ur thoughts n opinions ! i loveeee when u guys interact w me (˶˃ ᗜ ˂˶)

fuma sat on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, watching you with that infuriatingly calm expression. twenty-seven. stable. the kind of man who had his shit together in ways you could only envy. he worked as a project coordinator at a logistics firm downtown—steady hours, steady pay, steady emotions. you were a barista who could barely keep a shift schedule without spiraling.

“you’re really doing this again?” his voice was low, steady. no anger. just fact.

you swallowed hard, chest tight. “this is what i do. i get too close, things feel too good, and then the fear kicks in and i ruin it. i’d rather leave now before you realize how messed up i am and do it yourself.”

he didn’t stand. didn’t raise his voice. he just looked at you with those dark, patient eyes that always saw straight through your armor.

“i know you’re scared,” he said quietly. “i see the storm coming before you even do. but i’m still here. i’ve been here through the mood swings, the accusations, the nights you push me away and then cry because i didn’t chase you hard enough. i’m not going anywhere.”

his words made your eyes sting. you hated how calm he was. it made you feel even more unstable.

“that’s exactly why i have to go,” you whispered. “you deserve someone who isn’t this exhausting. someone who doesn’t test you every time things get serious. i’m twenty-one and i’m already broken, fuma. you’re twenty-seven and you have your life together. this… this isn’t fair to you.”

you turned the doorknob.

“don’t,” he said softly.

but you did.

the door clicked shut behind you, and the rain swallowed you whole as you walked down the hallway. you didn’t look back.

two months later

for sixty-two days, fuma didn’t move on.

he went to work. he came home. he sat on the same couch most nights with a glass of whiskey and the book he kept pretending to read. his friends told him to delete your number, to go on dates, to at least change the damn locks. he didn’t. he kept the your matching eeveelution plushies on the shelf in the living room. he kept whatever clothes you had left where you had left them. he kept your keychain by the door. he kept your favorite mug in the cabinet. he kept the left side of the bed empty.

you lasted three weeks before the regret started eating you alive.

the first month was pure survival mode—crashing on friend’s couches, picking up extra shifts, deleting his contact a dozen times. you convinced yourself he was relieved. that you’d finally done right by him by setting him free.

but the fear flipped on itself. what if he really was the one who wouldn’t leave? what if by month two, the emptiness had hollowed you out. the mood swings settled into a heavy, gray fog. no one else felt safe. no one else saw all your jagged edges and still said, i’m staying. the fear that had pushed you out finally flipped into the worse fear: that he really had moved on. that you’d finally succeeded in ruining the one good thing.

so on a quiet thursday evening in early july, you stood outside his door again. same hallway. same chipped paint near the frame. your hands shook so badly you almost dropped the spare key he’d given you months ago—the one you’d never returned.

you didn’t knock. you let yourself in.

fuma was sitting on the couch exactly where you’d left him that night, like the last two months had been a pause button. he wore gray sweatpants and an old black t-shirt, hair a little longer, eyes focused on his switch, a half-empty glass of whiskey rested on the coffee table next to a book he wasn’t reading. the tv was off. the apartment smelled like him—clean, warm, steady.

he looked up slowly. no shock. no anger. just those dark, patient eyes that had always seen too much.

“you’re back,” he said quietly. his voice was rough, like he hadn’t used it much lately.

you stood there in the doorway, backpack slipping from your shoulder to the floor with a soft thud. tears were already spilling.

“i left,” you choked out. “i really left this time. i told myself i wasn’t coming back. that you deserved better than someone who runs when it gets hard.”

fuma set the book down and stood, but he didn’t rush you. he never did. he just waited, hands at his sides.

“i spiraled,” you continued, voice cracking. “i convinced myself you were waiting for me to go. that i was too much, too unstable, too—everything. i deleted your messages. i tried to hate you so it would hurt less. but every night i kept hearing that stupid song. and i kept seeing you sitting here… not moving.”

you took a shaky step forward.

“i’m so scared, fuma. i’m terrified that one day you’ll finally see how broken i am and leave. but being without you these two months felt worse than any fear. i don’t know how to do this. i don’t know how to stay when my brain screams at me to run. but i… i want to try. if you’ll still have me.”

the silence stretched for a heartbeat.

then he crossed the room in three steady strides and he gently took the soaked backpack off your shoulder and let it drop to the floor.

fuma pulled you against his chest. his arms wrapped around you so tightly it almost hurt, one hand cradling the back of your head like you were something precious and fragile.

“i never moved,” he murmured into your hair, voice thick. “not an inch. i went to work. i came home. i sat on that couch every night and waited. some nights i thought you might not come back. but i still chose to stay right here.”

you sobbed into his shirt, fists clutching the fabric.

“i love you. all of you. the bpd. the fear. the scared girl who walks out and the brave one who comes back. i’m not here to fix you. i’m here to stand with you on the bad days and hold you through the storms. i’m the man who can’t be moved.”

his hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing rain and tears from your cheeks.

“you’re home now. and i’m not going anywhere. we’ll take it one day at a time. when you feel like running, tell me. i’ll hold you until the storm passes. i’m the man who can’t be moved, remember?”

you finally let your body relax, collapsing into his chest, sobbing. his arms wrapped around you instantly—strong, warm, steady. unmoving.

“i’m sorry it took me so long,” you whispered into his shirt.

“don’t be sorry,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “you came home. that’s all that matters.

“im not moving.”

© 𝘀𝗺𝗶𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗲 2026ㅤ ❤︎ㅤ 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 & 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗿 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱!

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: self indulgent fic again~ i grew up loving this song and craving this love. i relate to this song sm n i have for years, i love how i love but secretly i wish someone would feel this wat about me. i wish they wouldnt be moved~ anyway this was originally written for maki but as i started writing it i pictured fuma ! hes would be go understanding and loving and calm if his partner had bpd 💔💔💔 ๐·°(৹˃ᗝ˂৹)°·๐ fuuuumaaaa sannnnn

FUMA’s got you folded in half under him, his big frame caging you in while he fucks you deep and relentless, hips snapping hard enough to make the headboard slam against the walls. his back is arched, muscles rippling, sweat dripping down his spine—you’ve got your nails raking down his shoulders and he’s growling your name like he owns every inch of you.

then—CRACK.

a loud, cartoonish pop explodes from his lower back mid-thrust. fuma freezes balls-deep inside you, eyes flying wide open.

“…you’ve gotta be kidding me...”

you burst out laughing so hard your walls clamp down around him like a vice. he stays perfectly still, dick twitching angrily at the interruption, face a perfect mix of pain and pure mortification.

"not funny." he says as he gives you a particularly hard thrust that knocks the air out of your lungs. "we are never speaking of that again.."

EUIJOO’s got you pinned to the mattress, legs over his arms, fucking you so good you’re almost crying. he’s whispering the filthiest things in your ear when his phone starts ringing on the nightstand. the ringtone is his manager.

ej freezes mid-thrust, eyes wide. “i have to—”

“euijoo. you better not."

“baby, it’s about the comeback schedule—”

he reaches over, still buried to the hilt, and answers with the most strained “hello?” you’ve ever heard. you furrow your brows and clench around him on purpose and he bites his lip so hard it goes white.

you can hear his manager talking about stage formations while ej’s hips give these tiny, involuntary rolls. he’s trying so hard to sound normal. “yeah… mm-hm… totally… i’m just… in the middle of something—”

you roll your hips again and he chokes out a cough to cover his moan.

the call lasts four excruciating minutes. when he finally hangs up he drops the phone, buries his face in your neck and fucks you like he’s making up for lost time.

“you’re evil,” he groans. you roll your eyes, laughing softly. “you picked up mid sex, jju.” 

“i’m the leader. i had no choice.”

he kisses you hard just to shut you up, and hide his embarassment.

“now where were we?”

NICHOLAS has you pinned, sweat-slick chest against yours, trying his hardest with english dirty talk. his voice is low and raspy:

“yeah baby… you feel so good… i’m gonna fill you up—my little cum trashcan”

you blink. he pauses mid-thrust.

“wait. that’s not… shit.”

you lose it. full-body laughter. nicholas drops his head onto your shoulder with a defeated groan, still rock hard inside you. “english is so stupid. thats not what i meant—i swear.”

you’re giggling so hard you keep clenching around him. he tries again, voice muffled: “you’re so tight… i’m gonna pound you like… a… hammer?”

you wheeze harder. nicholas gives up, hips snapping forward in frustration. “fuck it. i’m never speaking english in bed again. just moan for me instead.”

JO’s tall frame is curled over you, thrusting up hard, chasing that gummy spot within you, eyes so focused on your pretty face twisting up in pleasure that he doesn't even notice how hard he's thrusting until—

bonk.

his forehead slams straight into the headboard with a loud crack. he freezes, eyes crossed, still fully inside you.

“...ouch,” he says quietly, dazed.

you’re dying. jo stays perfectly still for a second, processing the pain while his dick twitches. “i think i saw stars…” he mumbles, voice small.

“jo—are you okay?!” you ask, half-concerned, half-laughing as you cup his face.

your fingers reach up and rub the steadily growing bump on his forehead, still laughing. jo leans into your hand like a giant puppy, then carefully starts moving again, slower this time, one hand braced on the headboard like it because if he bumps his head again—he think he'll die or embarrassment.

YUMA has you on all fours, hands gripping your hips hard as he fucks you deep and messy in doggy style. he’s completely gone—sweaty bangs plastered to his forehead, pretty moans falling out of him every time you push back and completely pussy drunk. he pulls out almost all the way for one of those perfect, hard thrusts and then—

he misses.

just the slick tip of his cock pops straight into your ass instead.

you both yelp at the same time. yuma yanks back instantly like he burned himself, eyes huge, cheeks flaming bright red in half a second. “oh my god—i’m so sorry—”

his cock is still rock hard and twitching against your thigh, betraying him completely. you’re laughing so hard that you can barely speak, but you wiggling your ass at him attempting to suppress your laughter between words or reassurance.

he lines up properly this time, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment—still mumbling annoyed apologies between leaving sloppy kisses across your back.

“you are never gonna let me live this down.” he whispers, sliding back in where he belongs. “just… pretend that never happened for this moment and let me make you feel good, yeah?”

HARUA looks so pretty above you—flushed cheeks, parted lips, hips rolling deep and smooth. then, right as he hits that perfect spot—

grrrrrooowwwlll.

his stomach growls so loud you feel it vibrate against your lower belly. harua stops dead, ears going bright red. “i… skipped lunch for this…”

you start giggling. he drops his forehead to yours, mortified. “please just kill me. end it now.”

but you pull him closer, wrapping your legs tighter. harua whines your name pathetically as he keeps going, stomach still rumbling every few thrusts. every time it happens he hides his face in your neck, embarrassed little moans mixing with the wet sounds between you.

TAKI’s thrusting into at a rapid pace, hands gripping tightly at your waist and watching intently at the way his cock disappears inside you. one second he’s slamming his hips against your thighs, panting and moaning

the next—he tips forward like a his head is suddenly too heavy to hold up.

thud.

his face smacks directly into your tits, dick sliding all the way in you before he freezes, mortified. “...i’m dead. just leave me here.”

you’re wheezing, hands in his hair. taki refuses to lift his head, mumbling straight into your cleavage, “i can't believe that happened whilst i'm inside you...” his ears are burning red. you feel his cock twitch inside you, still hard despite the disaster.

after a minute he finally peeks up, looking like a kicked puppy. “can we… pretend that didn’t happen and i can just continue...? please?” you pull him up for a kiss and he hides his face in your neck the entire time he slides out then back in, whispering shy apologies between thrusts.

MAKI’s messy hair sticking to his forehead as he fucks you deep and steady. the room is hot, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. his phone is on the nightstand playing that filthy playlist you both made. you’re right on the edge, legs locked around his waist, when—

“—with new extra fresh whitening toothpaste for a brighter smile—”

maki’s hips stutter violently. “no. no no no—” he lunges sideways, still buried balls-deep inside you, and almost knocks the phone to the floor. the ad keeps blaring while he remains inside you.

your head falls back and a laughing bubbles up from your chest—you clench so hard your walls flutter and squeeze around him. maki lets out the most pathetic broken moan, face tomato red.

“fuck—skip—skip!” he hisses, finally killing the song. he drops his forehead to your collarbone, panting. “i spent three hours making that playlist… and now it’s advertising toothpaste while i’m inside you.”

you’re still giggling, clenching around him on purpose. maki whines, hips giving one helpless little thrust. “don’t laugh… you are clenching hard around me—i’m gonna cum.”

© 𝘀𝗺𝗶𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗲 2026ㅤ ❤︎ㅤ 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 & 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗿 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱!

𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 open . . . . .  : @ikigaijo @blueuijoo @0wisewisdoom @d3adg1rlie @yudaism @sh1n3-4h4na @starl0stt @yeonyeonbun @vickiluvsjo @ampiesworld @rubyidk @maytaurus20 @whoisgwyn  @simplyscrewed @meowieshibal @zzniya @1014b @deerhuntings @tokunodoll @crushonfuma @enha-crumbs @zucchini-thepowerfull @pendragonfaye @guliexe @natthefreak @sailorinthesie @rikusqirl @mitsuyas-version @freetobeey  @xukeiko @fumaid @livelaughloveseventeen @berrysoft7 @gummiiiee @radxdga @hhoneylix @crdteezv @pageraf @yandere-stories @jpow345 @itzhbu @reisdoll @horangiungnico @patrickbatemansgf @yethoughts @sunsoomi @lovelynyah @ateez-atiny380 @crdteezv @moonchild-31 @yvalrik @makizdoll