#aggnm

He shouldn't look, really, he absolutely should not, but his eyes don't know that, drifting down to the pretty swell of your breasts pushed out in a skimpy little lace bra that he was going to be thinking about long after you left, and his throat almost closes then and there.

"Here," He dryly choked out, his jaw clenching as he tossed you the shirt, dragging his attention down to where you discarded your dress.

"Thanks," You caught it, but barely made an effort to cover up your chest, your eyes following him as he bent over to pick it up, something that sounded close to a sigh escaping when he walked towards the door.

Suguru wouldn't crack. His composure couldn't. The only thing worse than you not being his was you not being in his life at all.

He could live with being in love with you. But knowing you didn't feel the same might kill him.

He didn't want a one-time thing, a single night spent in the sheets, but every part of you, every inch of your skin and second of your time. If you fucked him once just to say you couldn't be friends anymore, couldn't be anything, he didn't know what he'd do.

It was hard to know where the line was drawn when both of you had erased it so many times just to hastily scrawl a new one a little further back.

Carefully measuring out the laundry detergent and adjusting the settings on the washing machine before turning it on, the scent of your perfume and the wine clinging to him even after he turned away, glancing back down at the closed bedroom door. You were probably done changing by now, or close, at least.

He still knocked anyway, knuckles tapping against the wood, waiting for your reply.

"Can I come in?" Suguru called out, leaning against the door, trying not to think about what you looked like in his bed, the still image already burned in the back of his brain.

"Uh-huh," You hummed. Twisting the knob, he pushed it open, his stare locking onto you before he could even really process what he was seeing.

You were not done changing.

The hooks of your bra weren't even properly clasped, a tiny little thong hooked over your hips, your back to him while you rummaged through his nightstand. Something was in your hands that he couldn't see.

You glanced over your shoulder, a cute little smirk plastered to your lips that he wanted to kiss off of you, twist into a gasp, a moan of his name. "Hi."

"Hi," He echoed, low and gravelly, one corner of his mouth curling up to match yours.

You knew what you were doing.

And he was so tired of pretending he didn't.

"Say cheese," You giggled, holding up an old camera of his, finger hovering over the shutter while he folded his arms across his chest, his mouth set in a thin line even when you snapped a photo.

"Hand it over," He huffed, his focus straining to stay on your face while you walked over to him, bare feet padding across his floor until you were close enough to push the camera against his chest. The words were on his tongue before he could second guess saying them. "My turn."

The blush coloring your face made him feel warm, the sudden hints of shyness bleeding through when you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, like you just remembered how little you were wearing, how close he was.

"Scared?" Suguru mocked, giving you an out he hoped you wouldn't take.

"N-no," You stammered though, a crease forming between your furrowed brow as you protested.

"Back on the bed then," He murmured, wondering if you'd pose for him, if this would be the only picture you'd let him take of you tonight.

You hesitantly perched yourself back on the end, glancing down at yourself then back up at him, swallowing hard as you tried to collect your confidence again. Scooting back, parting your legs just enough that he caught a glimpse of the small damp patch on your panties, chuckling at the realization you were more worked up than him.

"More," He instructed, watching the way your lips parted and froze, how slowly your limbs started to move.

He sighed, sitting the camera down on the mattress next to you before sliding his hands over your soft thighs, spreading them for you, pretending your little gasp at the contact didn't make his cock practically jump in his boxers.

"Lay down for me, okay, pretty girl?" Suguru requested, softer this time, and you nodded, listening as you laid back, your body stiff as it sank down on his comforter. Only starting to relax once his hands slipped higher, the feeling of your bare skin under his palm only fueling the burning need he'd been suppressing for so long.

Hooking two sturdy fingers under the band of your panties and slowly peeling them down your thighs, taking his time and waiting for some squeak of his name to leave your mouth, but you just watched him back, biting down on the inside of your cheek.

Once your underwear hit the floor, you hesitantly shifted, opening yourself up for him. "Like this?"

Suguru wasn't sure he was going to make it out of here with his sanity in tact.

Step two?

He was going to fuck you until you admitted you'd been waiting for this just as long as him.

"Look at me," He quietly said, picking the camera back up to hide the hunger in his gaze as he peered through the viewfinder at you.

Your unsure stare reflecting his own desperation, lashes fluttering as you tried to decide what face to make.

He could help with that.

Returning one hand to the inside of your thigh, tracing a soft path up to the slick on your skin as placed his hand over your entrance, his thumb dipping just barely in to the knuckle while he watched your face for every tiny flicker in your expression. Entranced by how easily he made you squirm, your pretty pout like you wanted more and knowing he wouldn't give it to you unless you asked.

And click!

Of all the candids he'd taken over the years, the collection of your smiles and scoffs saved in photo albums and in his phone's camera rolls, he knew that this would be his favorite.

"Sugu-" You started, the uneven rise-and-fall of your chest only drawing his attention the strap of your bra slipping down your arm.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" He breathed, stuck staring at the sharp edge of one of your canines was tugging on your lower lip, the glimmer in your eyes at how intimate the nickname suddenly felt despite how many times he called you that before.

"Are you sure?" You slowly enunciated every syllable, straining to speak as his thumb dipped deeper. Trying not to give away how much he was affecting you, like he couldn't feel the muscles pull tighter, see the twitch of your hips as they fought to buck up and force him in more.

"Always have been about you," Suguru simply said, pushing his palm down over your clit, watching you gasp at the sudden pressure, eyes fluttering closed as you harshly sucked in a breath.

"God," You hissed.

"Take your bra off," He instructed, and you listened, struggling to prop yourself up enough to reach around with one hand and fumble to undo the clasp, throwing it off with a clatter to the floor.

Fuck.

The way your breasts bounced as you moved, how the buds of your nipples were already perked up and hard, just begging him to roll his tongue over them, to pinch and grope and hold. Mark your chest and your neck with enough kisses to erase the fact that anyone else had ever touched them before him.

He wanted to be the last man who would.

How could he not when you were looking at him like you needed him?

"You wanna tell me what you want?" He hm-ed, slipping his thumb back out, the slick pad dragging up to trace a ghost of a circle over the swollen bud while you whined at the abrupt absence.

"You, please," You whimpered, and he didn't think he'd ever been this hard before. "S-Sugu, I wan' you."

It took every ounce of control not to pull his cock out and fuck you until you cried that out again and again, until pretty tears were collected in your eyes and all you could do was whimper.

He slowly slotted two fingers inside, the stretch making you shudder, thighs struggle to resist the temptation to close on his hand.

He clicked his tongue, once, twice, three times.

"Keep them open for me, baby," He teased, and you just pushed out your bottom lip, weakly nodding as all your muscles tensed again, muscles straining to stay in place when he crooked his fingers all the way in.

"Fuck, fuck, god, there." Your cute moan made his head spin, how your breath almost stuttered every time you sucked it in just for him to immediately force it back out, skin he used to try so hard to avoid staring at in swim suits now completely bare in his sheets.

Pumping his fingers in-and-out, the filthy fucking sound of how wet you were for him ringing his his ears, how right it felt to have you squeezing desperately around him, to be the one pushing you closer and closer to cumming on his fingers.

"That's it, pretty," He softly said, feeling you throb at his low voice, pausing to test it out again. "Come on, breathe."

You tried, sucking in a small breath and looking at him with glossy eyes, silently begging him to keep going.

"Use your words, sweetheart," Suguru purred, swiping his thumb back over your sensitive clit and you shivered.

"Please let me cum," You begged out loud this time, trembling at his touch.

He chuckled, dark and low, slotting his fingers back inside, already trying to memorize which spots made you whine louder, thrusting in, out, in, out, until-

"Suguru."

His name ripped from your throat right as his fingers found the spongy spot in the back, fingertips pressing against it just enough for you to cry out his name a second time, your legs snapping shut as you grinded up against his hand.

"Go ahead, baby," He murmured, letting you rut against his palm for extra pressure and friction, readjusting so his thumb was massaging circles over the swollen bud. "C'mon, cum."

And fuck, he never thought you'd looked more beautiful than right now - lashes fluttering, pretty lips parted as your back arched off the bed, his fingers buried knuckle-deep in your cunt while you came.

"Look so pretty like this f'me," He promised, his thumb rolling over your clit while you blushed and squirmed, still trying to catch your breath when he didn't immediately pull out.

"S-shut up," Your voice was small as you stammered.

"Can I take another photo?" He teased, slipping his slick fingers out, and popping them in his own mouth, needing to taste you on his tongue.

The image of him cleaning the ring of white off his fingers seemed to make you more flustered, your glossy stare searing through his heart.

"You want to?" You swallowed hard.

He climbed on top of the bed, pulling his fingers out with a pop! and grazing over your lower lip with his thumb, caging you in under his broad frame.

"That a yes?" He hm-ed, and you nodded, letting him tug your mouth open. He pushed the same two fingers that had just been in his mouth into yours, your tongue swirling over his knuckles, sucking softly and peering up at him with those pretty eyes.

"Mhm," Your muffled voice purred back.

He fumbled for the camera, holding it back up and hovering his finger over the button as you met his stare through the viewfinder, your own hand reaching up to hold his and push his fingers in deeper while he snapped the photo.

"My pretty girl."

His his his.

Pulling out his fingers while he leaned over to deposit the camera on the nightstand, your lips still open, waiting for a kiss or about to tease him for a sentiment so silly, but a soft smile curled up.

"Yeah, yours."

Suguru Geto was in love. Something he always knew, but only existed in the loops of his mind, the quiet score of his life, playing in the background of every scene. But this, with you here, it was loud. In every look and touch, in every breath he exhaled, the atoms crackling in the air between your bodies.

"I need to fuck you," He heard himself say, hoarse and thick with something caught between desperation and desire.

"Oh yeah?" Your airy little giggle was abruptly cut off with his mouth colliding against yours, wondering if his tasted like wine or you as he sucked softly on your lower lip.

Your hands were struggling to pull his shirt up, only breaking the kiss to shove it up and over his head, your warm palms skimming over his muscles and tracing over each ridge and curve like you'd thought about touching him half as much as he thought about touching you.

"Sugu," You giggled again, letting him pepper your cheek with kisses, his mouth leaving hungry sucks in a line down your throat, marks you'd probably have to wear a scarf or makeup to cover at work in a few days.

He really couldn't stop touching you. Caressing your face and groping your breast and tracing your collarbone and trying to find an excuse to catalogue what every inch of you felt like under him.

"Mm?" He barely paused, feeling your delicate touch start to tug down the zipper of his jeans, the rustle of you unbuttoning them next. He wrapped his mouth around one of your nipples, groaning softly as he dragged his tongue over it as you managed to slip your fingers underneath his jeans and the band of his boxers to feel how hard he already was. Swiping your fingertips over his leaking tip to collect the pre-cum there and wiggling back out to bring it to your lips for your own taste.

His throat went dry.

More than dry. Actually, it felt like someone stuffed fucking cotton balls down it and his pants suddenly felt two sizes too tight as you dragged your tongue over your fingertips and batted your lashes at him.

"I thought you needed to fuck me," You reminded him with the sort of soft sigh that made him dizzy.

He was pushing off his plush mattress to finish what you started, discarding his jeans and boxers in one go, his composure not just cracked but crumbled into a million little pieces he couldn't clean up, the need turning him into the kind of man who couldn't care less about appearances or control if it mean he could fuck your brains out enough that you'd forget about all of that too.

His cock was practically pink, swollen and hard, swinging up to smack against his dark happy trail and muscles, your eyes getting even wider, glued to the thick length.

"Um, S-Sugu," You stuttered, and it was cute to see you lose your own cool, scooting back higher on the bed and propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Uh-huh?" He wryly cocked his head to the side as he climbed back on top of you, pulling you down by your hips as your head fell back on his pillow. Spreading your legs back open, glistening and gorgeous and all his.

"Kiss me again," You quietly requested, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Returning his lips to your own to press a tender kiss there while his tip nudged against your opening, your body jolting when he pinned you down with his weight. Slipping one hand behind your neck to deepen the kiss, his tongue tracing the ridges of your teeth while his other hand held your waist, your wrists wrapping around his neck while you moaned in his mouth, unable to do anything but grind up where his cock was practically twitching against your clit.

Getting more desperate by the second, your muffled moan turning into a whine, bucking up harder to chase your high from earlier.

"Put it in," Your voice was a strained whisper in-between kisses, rolling your hips up again.

"Say please," Suguru taunted, kissing your frown away before he could even really form.

"Please."

He was letting go of your waist to grab the base of his cock, pushing the first few inches in and watching your body tense and stiffen around him, your thighs trying not to close as he pushed past the first ring of resistance, the gasp you attempted to stifle not going unnoticed.

"You okay, baby?" He paused, your body squeezing him sinfully before he hadn't even quite made it halfway in.

"You're, um, bigger, than I imagined," You choked out, and he wasn't sure if it was his ego or his dick that got fucking bigger hearing you admit you imagined him at all.

"It'll fit," He murmured, barely containing the urge to bottom out already, taking his time stretching you out, molding you to each vein and ridge. "Promise I'll take care of you."

You wrapped your legs around his waist, locked them there with your heels digging into his back, and the feeling of your soft thighs against his skin, the squeeze of the muscle had him burying himself in fully before he could stop it.

"Shit, Suguru, o-oh, oh," You mewled at him, nails scratching at his shoulder blades while you buried your face into the crook of his neck, moaning into his skin, teeth nipping at his collarbone.

He kind of hoped you would bite him. Leave little indents of your teeth on his skin so he could run his fingers over it in the morning.

"Fuck," He murmured, stalling for a second just to appreciate how it felt. The warmth of your body trapped under his, the taste of you still on his tongue while his cock was snugly sheathed inside you, raw and-

Shit, he wasn't wearing a condom.

You hadn't asked him to. And to be honest, he didn't even think he had one. It's not like he'd been seeing anyone recently or even considered the possibility he might need one tonight.

It would probably be fine.

He could just pull out or-

"Baby," Your voice, so needy, distracted him.

Suguru's brain shut off.

All higher reasoning had been abandoned, replaced only by the thought of making you cum again (and again).

Sliding out just to shove himself back in, gentle thrusts growing faster, harder with every one of your whines and broken rasps of his name, your hands running over his back and your mouth on his throat. Eventually un-hooking your legs from his hips to pin your thighs to your chest, angling himself to hit that same spongy spot he had before, half-incoherent murmurs whispered into your skin of how beautiful you were, how badly he wanted you, needed you.

And you were nodding back, tears brimming at your lashes and moaning his name, offering quiet little swears that you belonged to him like it was a secret meant for the two of you to keep.

"Oh, t-there, fuck," You whimpered, his cock practically grinding against your cervix as his hips smacked against your skin, planting another open-mouthed kiss on your lips while you both struggled to stave off your climax. Neither of you wanted it to end. "Suguru, m' so close."

"I know, baby, I know," He groaned, barely holding himself together, all the carefully assembled pieces of his life about feeling like they were about to fracture the second his restraint snapped.

There was no going back after this.

No mask he'd be able to wear now that he knew what this felt like. Knew what you looked like pinned under him in the filthiest fucking mating press imaginable, fucked-out and filled-up by his cock slamming again and again while his thumb made messy circles over your clit, rolling and pinching it just to see what sort of noises he could pull out of you next. Especially not after knowing what face you made when you finished, your shattered gasp and your glazed-over eyes focused solely on him and fuck-

Fuck.

He cumming before he could stop himself, your body wrapped up so warm around him, the delicious squeeze like you wanted to draw out every last fucking drop, painting your insides white before he even had enough brain power to start to pull out, but by then, only the last few drops were left to leak onto your thighs. Both dazed, blinking and breathing, his cock still hard in his hand while he stared down at his seed dripping out of you.

You were probably on birth control.

Probably.

Suguru reached over to snag the camera off the nightstand, one hand still pinning your thighs down while the other held the camera back up.

"Say cheese."

Step three?

Show up to your apartment after you'd been avoiding him for what? Two months?

Work stuff, you said, already made plans, you bluffed, feeling sick, you excused.

You hadn't left his place upset - no, you showered and practically stayed in his bed until you had to go to work on Monday. Kissed him on the lips and brushed his bangs out of his face, but when he replayed the 36 hours of heaven, none of the words exchanged had technically been confessions. Or at least, nothing that would put a name to whatever the two of you were now.

It's not like you hadn't gone a couple weeks without seeing each other in person. But this was getting ridiculous - and exactly what he'd been worried about in the first place. He knew you were probably overthinking it, probably just as worried as he was that it'd screw everything up, judging by the still-constant stream of texts you sent him every day.

But he couldn't take it anymore - close enough to just calling it like it was and asking you out officially if it meant you'd stop whatever this was. He'd spent more nights by now fucking in fists to the photos he'd taken of you, painfully-aware of how much better the real thing was.

He could tell by the sound of some shitty reality show playing too-loud through the door that you were definitely home, but you didn't answer the first time he knocked. Or the fourth.

By the tenth, he was flipping through his keys to find the spare one to your place, his text messages to you left unread as he turned it in the lock, calling out your name as he stepped inside. No answer.

Panic had started to prick at his nerves, glancing around to see your stuff scattered around like you usually left it as he crept through your empty kitchen and living room. There weren't any dishes in the sink though, just a few empty packs of crackers, a small trash can by the couch, a blanket thrown over the side and a crushed pillow like you'd just been there. He heard it then - the sound of retching.

Shit. You were sick.

He followed the noise down the hall into the bathroom, the door already cracked open, softly saying your name as he approached so he wouldn't surprise you, but you coughed again, glancing over your shoulder clearly startled anyway.

"What are you-" You weakly rasped, a few stray hairs plastered to your forehead with sweat, tired circles around your eyes before you got sick again. He hurried to hold the rest of your hair back with one hand, the other rubbing little circles on your shoulder blade.

"Hey, it's okay," He murmured, concern replacing everything else he'd been preoccupied with when he showed up. "I was worried about you."

Something that looked like fear flashed across your features when you finished and peeked back over at him.

"Suguru," You slowly said his name, and just speaking sounded like it must hurt.

"Come on, want me to carry you back to the couch? I can go pick up some medicine for you, whatever else you want too," He offered, his thumb rubbing over your your shoulder blade in comforting half-circles. You didn't immediately answer, a small frown still stuck on your face. "You been to the doctor yet?"

"Suguru," You said his name again, more serious this time and he froze.

"Yeah?" He swallowed hard, and you refused to meet his stare.

"I'm pregnant," You murmured, so quietly that was barely audible over the bathroom exhaust fan.

His brain stopped working.

His body too - stuck in place, his thumb still pressing down on the tense muscles of your back.

"You're-" He started, then stopped himself. Each word forming its own separate thought, struggling to piece each of them together when weight of them all combined threatened to crush him. "Is it my baby?"

Fuck, it had to be.

You nodded, just a small bob of your head, and he could barely blink.

Baby. A baby. Yours and his.

"Don't hate me," You whispered sheepishly, shoulders shrinking together. "But I want to keep it."

"I could never hate you," He hoped it sounded reassuring, straining to keep his own happiness in check, struggling to be steady the way you clearly needed him to be. "Whatever you want, I'm here for you. And our baby."

"You mean it?" You turned, just enough that he was able to tug you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you.

"Promise." He pressed a kiss against your hair, cradling you closer.

Your breathing was still shaky, sniffling a few times before your arms wrapped around his waist, face pressed against his shirt.

"Have you been to the doctor yet?" He asked again, although it had an entirely different meaning now, one that still hadn't sunk in all the way yet.

"I called, after, um, I got the positive test," You talked into his chest, voice muffled but you refused to pull away either. "My first appointment isn't for another two weeks."

"I'll go with you," He muttered.

"You don't have-"

"I want to," Suguru chuckled. "Let me take care of you, okay?"

"That's kind of how we ended up here," You reminded him, and he didn't have to see your face to know you were pouting.

He still laughed though, because he'd still do it again.

"Want me to make you something to see if you can keep it down?" He decided to shift the subject, rubbing your back in long, soothing strokes, content to play doctor or nurse (or husband) or whatever role you wanted from him.

Playing chef while he made you something warm, masseuse when he rubbed your back while you curled up next to him in bed, and boyfriend when you finally fell asleep, slipping out of your room to complete the chores that had started to pile up that you'd been too exhausted to do.

It was the least he could do when all your energy was already being devoted to his baby.

By the time he finished and crept back into your bedroom, you were still dreaming, the blankets kicked off of your body. The bed creaked as he climbed back in, settling next to your warm body.

His hand slipped down your side, readjusting so his chest was pressed against your back as his fingers drifted slowly over your stomach, just beneath your belly button, trying to picture it.

Would the baby be a boy? Or a girl?

A little mini-version of you running around, maybe with his eyes or hair?

You were already everything he ever wanted. Anything extra was just icing on top.

Step four?

Convince you to move into his place before the second trimester was over, it was bigger, anyway, had a spare bedroom he'd been using as a home gym he already started converting into a nursery. Spending the weekends building baby furniture and taking you out for dates disguised as shopping, buying little onesies and toys mostly so he could insist on treating you to lunch or dinner afterwards.

It was easier than he expected.

What wasn't?

Convincing you to marry him.

You were already carrying his child. Pretty and pregnant, the cute swell of your stomach you tried to hide under flowy dresses and oversized sweaters making his heart throb in his chest every time he saw it. His mouth would go dry, his eyes stuck staring if he caught you in the middle of changing, even when you shyly tried to turn away. Only having sex in certain positions where you could try to avoid letting him see it, although it usually ended up with him flipping you over on your back or pulling you on top.

"We're going to be late," Suguru sighed, throwing on a sweater from the closet.

"I just need a few more minutes," You pouted, halfway yelling from the bathroom.

He crossed over the bedroom, pushing the bathroom door open with two fingers so he could poke his head through. You were frowning at yourself in the mirror, readjusting your dress, like it'd make it any less obvious you were pregnant. Other clothing items were already discarded across the floor.

"Baby," He softly said, wrapping his arms around your waist, running a hand over your baby bump while the other slipped up to cup your swollen breast starting to spill out of your bra. Despite your insistence otherwise, your discomfort with your changing body, he still tried to offer to take you out to buy stuff for you instead of just the baby. "You look beautiful."

You did.

Everything in him ached to touch you constantly, and maybe it was protective or possessive or whatever you wanted to call it, but he hated that you wanted to hide it, the physical proof that you were his.

He wanted everyone to know it, wanted to slide a ring on your finger and have family photos on the fridge because you were carrying more of him with you now than just his heart.

You scowled at him in the mirror.

"I look pregnant," You muttered, like it was a bad thing.

"Yeah?" He chuckled, tracing the subtle curve of your stomach with his thumb. Twenty weeks. That was halfway there, wasn't it? He'd read more than a few parenting books in his spare time - looked up the latest articles on pregnancy and what to expect. He'd pour over the packets you left from the prenatal appointments with, asked off for each one in advance, absolutely refusing to let you go alone.

"I hate all my clothes," You huffed.

"You hated them before you were pregnant," Suguru sighed, pulling you closer and leaning down to plant a soft kiss against your throat. "You should probably wear something else though. Aren't they doing an ultrasound today?"

He phrased it like a question even though he knew they were.

You frowned again, wiggling away from him to slip out of his grip and walk over to the dresser, yanking out a pair of sweatpants.

"Everything fits weird," You complained, pulling your dress up and over your head, and Suguru stared, feeling the way his own jeans started to fit too tight at the sight of your exposed skin.

"We can go shopping for some new clothes after the appointment," Suguru absentmindedly said, still memorizing the pretty outline of your body.

He could kiss you, offer reassurance after reassurance that he did want you, but you were reluctant to believe him.

Your foot was still anxiously tapping the floor of the waiting room when you arrived, gripping his hand like it was a lifeline, your last tether stopping you from giving into the stress.

"It's gonna be fine," He leaned down to murmur in your ear, barely able to squeeze your hand back with how tightly you were holding it.

"What if it's not?" You were panicking, your other hand protectively placed over your stomach like you were shielding it from the rest of the world.

"Then we'll figure it out together."

His answer didn't seem to calm you much, the little circles he rubbed over your knuckles only making your foot tall a little slower.

"They keep looking at you," You eventually craned your neck up to whisper in his ear, frowning even harder than you had when you first walked in.

"Who?" He leaned down to whisper back.

"The other moms," You pouted, cutting a glare over to a woman who was, in fact, staring. She tried to turn away, but not before you both caught her blush.

"So?" He had to resist the smirk that wanted to creep up, lest he faced your wrath too. Like he could ever want anyone else when you were sitting next to him in the waiting room because his baby was growing inside of you, although this jealousy was something he probably would've killed to see you show over him six months ago.

"I'm probably going to be prying them off of you at the playground in a couple years," You huffed, and he couldn't help but chuckle picturing that.

But before you could focus your frown on him, a nurse called out your full name, his own forming at the reminder he was barely here as a boyfriend, that his baby might not even have his last name either.

He insisted on helping you stand, a hand on the small of your back even when you didn't really need it yet, following you through the hall and listening to you answer the same questions they always asked at every appointment until they led you to the small room that branched off the main hall. The lights were dimmed down already as he helped you lay back onto the table, the paper crinkling while you readjusted. He pulled the chair against the wall closer, slipping his hand back on yours while the nurse left and reassured an ultrasound tech would be there in a few minutes.

"Last guesses," You mumbled, chewing on your lower lip, breathing too fast. "Boy or a girl?"

"Girl," Suguru replied, although he didn't think it mattered much. Not as long as it was yours.

He did like the idea of the baby being a girl - if she had your eyes and your smile.

"I guess I'll go with boy then," You spoke quietly, eyeing the machine next to you. "I hope our baby looks like you either way."

Suguru didn't expect the way your sentiment made him feel - his heart practically stuttering as the words left your lips. Something squeezing tight in his chest, making it hard for him to breathe.

But there were two sharp knocks on the door and suddenly it was swinging open, a peppy woman in shrugs stepping in with cheery greetings, waving and taking a seat on the other side of you to get started. Asking questions about names you had in mind and if you wanted to know the gender while she got set up, and it was silly, but it was like he had a crush on you all over again, watching you chat about the baby, how your eyes lit up just to get sheepish and almost embarrassed when you looked back at Suguru to find him staring.

It didn't take long for you to be slowly pulling the band of your sweatpants down, tissues stuck under it to keep the gel from getting on your clothes while you held up your sweatshirt high enough for her to spread the gel over your stomach, pressing down hard with the wand as the image pulled up on the projector. Taking measurements and checking body parts until she paused right as the baby turned.

"You see that?"

Not really.

"Sorta," You squinted, trying to squint and figure out what it is.

"Looks like you're having a girl!"

And all the earlier anxiety had dissolved, melted into the shy smile on your lips when you glanced back at him, your warm palm giving him a quick squeeze and an excited gleam in your eyes.

"We're gonna have a daughter," You talked so quiet, so soft, like you were still holding your breath.

A daughter. You voice, those words played on repeat the drive home, while you traced the outline of your baby's face on the roll of ultrasound photos you got sent home with.

"Suguru, are you even listening?" You snapped him out of his thoughts, the idea of what you'd look like with a little girl swaddled up in your arms, already planning on taking you out shopping again tomorrow for more baby outfits than any kid could actually need.

"Sorry, honey? What?" He apologized, placing a palm on your thigh and rubbing it while you hummed.

"I asked what you thought of the name Kiyoko," You repeated, setting the photos down on your lap to pull out your phone and probably look up lists of baby girl names.

"That's pretty," He hummed, mostly just enjoying hearing your enthused chatter next to him.

"Or Yumi?" He caught a glimpse of you with your eyebrow arched up as you asked, your attempt at a serious expression falling flat from the thrill you couldn't hide.

He never thought he'd be able to love another girl as much as you - but he guessed his daughter was the only exception.

It wasn't until he started to climb into bed next to you that night that he realized you might not know that.

"Um, Suguru?"

There was something off in the sound of your voice, how hesitant you were to roll over and face him.

"Something wrong, sweetheart?" He readjusted, propping himself up on his side as he brushed your hair out of your face.

"Are, um, you," You paused, frowning as you restarted your question. "Do you think you'll-"

He guessed you were giving up on whatever you wanted to ask as you groaned and buried your face into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Sorry, just, pretend I didn't say anything," Your voice was muffled, clinging to him, fingers wrinkling his shirt and forcing it to ride up higher until a thin strip of skin was exposed.

"You sure?" He stroked your hair, returning your hug as he pulled you in closer with one strong arm.

"Yeah," You huffed, wiggling free and rolling over till you were between his legs.

He was about to slip his hands under your arms to tug you back up, but then you let one finger skim under his boxers, looking up and batting your eyes at him and he paused, the question he was about to ask dying on his tongue.

Yours seemed to have an idea of it's own.

Fingers ghosting over his dark happy trail while you bit your lip, slowly tugging down his boxers just enough to pull his cock out, already hard from watching you undress and ditch your daytime clothes for a thin slip earlier that hugged your swollen breasts before you'd crawled into bed.

"This for me?" You hummed, running your fingers over the thick vein pulsing along the side while he sucked in a breath, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile on its own.

"Always," He murmured, the lump in his throat bobbing as you dragged your tongue along the length of him, mouth slowly wrapping around the tip.

God, it wasn't fucking fair.

How could he control himself when every part of you felt so good?

Head falling back on the pillow, jaw clenched as you slowly took him in inch-by-inch, swirling our tongue over him and down across the vein, traced the ridges until he was pressed up against the roof of your mouth, bumping into the back of your throat.

His hand grabbing your hair to help guide you, careful not to make you gag or bruise your throat, your fingers wrapped around his base to stroke what you couldn't fit in. Your moan when he pulled your hair harder than he meant to almost made him snap them and there.

Opening his eyes was his mistake.

He wished he could take a photo of this, the bob of your head and the way you peered up at him so pretty, his cock throbbing in your mouth and how eagerly your mouth softly sucked on him.

He barely pulled out before warm spurts of cum shot down your throat, meaning to cum on his own hand, but it didn't quite work. The thick almost translucent white coating your lips and making them glossy, half ending up on your face and the rest coating his hand as he roughly jerked long strokes.

"Fuck, sorry, I-"

You giggled, licking a little off your lips before wiping away at your cheek.

"It's fine, Sugu," You laughed, wiping your face off on his boxers, nose nuzzling through the fabric against his thigh. "Little warning, next time?"

"Yeah," He muttered, still dazed as he studied your face.

It seemed keeping it together wasn't something he could do when it came to you.

"Wanna shower?" You offered, getting off the bed, the bounce of your breasts as you carefully pulled your little nightdress off reminding him how badly he wanted to repay that favor.

"Sure," He shrugged, standing up after you and stepping out his boxers off before tossing them into the laundry basket.

He watched you get the water started, humming to yourself as you grabbed a new bottle of body wash from the cabinet underneath the sink and checked the temperature.

"Hey," He softly said, distracting you before you could step in.

"Yeah?" You paused, glancing over your shoulder at him.

"Wanna get married?"

You didn't react. Or maybe your lack of reaction was one in itself. A blank stare. A blink. Your hands still on the shower curtain.

"What?" You eventually choked out.

Suguru panicked - or came as close to panic as he could. Falling back on logic, all the facts you couldn't argue with.

"I was paying the bill for the last appointment, and you know, your insurance is terrible," He reasoned, keeping his expression serious, stoic, like you'd have to see his side. "I just think it'd make more sense for us to get married, use my insurance and save our money for the other important stuff."

He actually couldn't care less what the appointments cost or how much he spent on the baby - because he would make absolutely fucking sure you were both spoiled but, he wanted you to say yes.

"I can just pay for the appointments if that's the problem," You quietly murmured, a look on his face he'd never seen before he barely caught before you turned back around and stepped in the shower.

Shit.

He didn't have to guess to know that was a no.

Step five?

Try not to maim every guy that ever looked at you.

It had to be something instinctual - how it made his skin crawled whenever someone's shoulder brushed against yours on the street or a stare lingered too long on your face. Fuck, even Gojo sitting too-close to you had started to get to him, the easy way he slung his shoulder over the back of the couch and blabbered to you about his day while you laughed.

Normally, Suguru would not be silently struggling to maintain his polite smile when you offered to let Satoru feel the baby kick, new cracks starting to form in his facade as his best friend eagerly out his hand on your stomach.

"That's freaky," Gojo scrunched up his face, pulling his hand away at the first flutters of the kick.

"Jerk," You huffed, smacking his arm before struggling to readjust the pillows under your back, your own brows knitted together in frustration.

"Need something?" Suguru interrupted.

"I'm fine," You muttered, despite your discomfort.

"So, like," Gojo started, squinting down at your stomach before glance between you and Suguru. "Am I like, the godfather or-"

"Why not?" You shrugged right as Suguru shook his head no.

"Why not?" Gojo repeated in a whine, cutting him a look that only ever worked if you were the one directing it at him.

"I'd prefer my daughter lives off of more than chocolate and candy," Suguru sarcastically dismissed, scooting closer to you in the couch to slip the pillow that had been beside him underneath your back to help support it.

"I can cook," Satoru defensively protested, looking to your for support Suguru hoped he wouldn't received. "Besides, I have a great dentist so even if-"

"Shit, do we have to find her a dentist too?" You were ignoring the rest of his rambling, glancing back at Suguru with a frown at yet another task on the growing list of items to take care of.

"We can worry about that when she's actually here," Suguru shrugged, a hand settling on your shoulder and massaging the tense muscles there. "And has teeth."

"Okay," You sighed, still chewing on your bottom lip. You turned to your other side, your attention focusing again on your guest.

"You guys pick out a doctor yet?" Satoru asked, spreading his legs and leaning over to grab one of the still-warm cookies you baked after dinner. The sun had already set aside, only the glow from the TV and the kitchen light still on.

"Yeah, think so," You hummed, a hand resting on your stomach when you tried to get one too, pouting at your body's refusal to do what it used to until Suguru reached over to get the cookie for you.

"Got your hands pretty full, huh?" Satoru mumbled with his mouth still full, cookie crumbs sticking to his face.

"Suguru says we should just go ahead and get married," You sighed, taking another small bite before talking again. "For insurance stuff, I guess."

It was the first time you mentioned it in the past couple months since he first brought it up.

Satoru threw him a look like he was the biggest idiot on the planet before actually laughing.

"Just for insurance?" He cocked a brow up, an annoying glimmer of amusement flashing in the blue of his eyes while throwing Suguru a look that made him consider strangling his friend on the spot. "You know, my insurance is really-"

"Don't even think about it," Suguru shut him up before he could continue.

But you were glancing between them, a small frown weighing your lips down and a subtle crease between your brow. Were you actually disappointed?

"I'm actually pretty tired, guys, I, uh, think I'm gonna crash for the night," You mumbled, pushing up off the couch and ignoring Suguru's outstretched hand to stand on your own.

He could feel it sinking in his chest before you disappeared down the hall.

Another misstep. Pushing you away when he was trying to pull you closer.

"Insurance? Really?" Satoru snickered once you were out of earshot.

"Shut up," Suguru groaned.

"Just tell her you love her already and put a ring on it," He shrugged, leaning over to flick his arm. "Unless you want your kid to have a stepdad some day?"

Okay, Suguru really wanted to strangle him for suggesting that.

And it was his own fault for offering excuses, he knew that, still he didn't want to tell you he loved you and you think it was just because of the baby, or that was the only reason he was trying to tie you down to him. He wanted you to know he meant it.

To know he'd been waiting for the moment he could claim you his entire life, to call you his in every form, sign the paper and hear the word husband leave your lips.

Just being your boyfriend the past few months when you were having his baby was torture, enduring your unsure glances, the unease he tried and failed to kiss away.

What were you so scared of? And why was it him?

He still hadn't figured out by the time Satoru left, or when he eventually got in bed next to you, careful not to disturb your sleep - even if he suspected you were already awake.

Suguru was pretty sure he'd never been scared in his until he woke up to an empty bed. Cold sheets, no lingering body heat or even the scent of your shampoo clinging to your pillow when he rolled over to the empty space you should be.

Stumbling out of the bed still half-asleep himself, squinting as he rubbed his eyes and pushed open the bathroom door, but no, the lights were off and it was also empty. Calling out your name and crushing the budding anxiety clawing up his throat as he padded through the hall into the living room, the dim light from the kitchen hurting his eyes as they adjusted to the yellow glow.

His ears caught up first.

The faint sound of your sniffling reaching him as he rounded the corner to find you on the floor by the entryway, struggling to slip on your shoes, wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants that didn't do much to hide your baby bump as you wiped at your cheeks with one hand. Dressed like you were planning on going somewhere, purse laying on the floor next to you, phone and keys hanging halfway out of it.

"Baby," He yawned, trying to speak softly as he glanced over at the clock. "It's three in the morning. What are you doing?"

"Can't sleep. I want a slushie," You mumbled, blinking a few times, clearly just as exhausted as him. There was a faint shine to your eyes, a few teardrops still clinging to your lashes.

"You should've woken me up," He murmured, gently squeezing your shoulder.

"It's just a stupid craving," You dismissed, rubbing your own eyes as you gave up and threw your shoe back on the ground.

It was the first one you'd told him about. He wasn't even sure you even had any, but maybe you'd just been taking care of them yourself.

"I'll get you one," He stifled another yawn while he talked. "Let me get a coat and my keys."

You grabbed onto the hem of his pajama pants to hold him in place, peeking up at him with a pout.

"You don't have to."

"You think I'm going to let my pregnant girlfriend go out by herself to get one?" Suguru retorted.

Your pout only got deeper at the word girlfriend.

"Forget about it," You murmured, letting go of his pajamas to push off the floor, once again ignoring his outstretched hand to try and stand by yourself. "Let's just go back to bed."

He knew he could ask if you were sure and you'd grumble something sarcastic back before going to sleep upset.

"Hey," He paused, stopping you with a hand on the curve of your waist, pulling you into him, until your baby bump, his daughter, was pressed against the firm muscle of his own stomach. "Let's go together, okay?"

"You really wanna?" You hesitated, clearly wanting to say yes despite the streak of stubbornness that usually won out over your softer side.

Suguru pressed a kiss against your forehead, his hand appreciatively running over your stomach just for the mini-you inside to kick, the flutter under his fingers only reminding him how easily the two of you had him wrapped around your own.

"It's you," He'd remind you however many times you needed. "Course I do."

Step six?

Get you whatever craving or late night treat you wanted - even if he felt like he was sleepwalking.

Still groggy, he threw on his own shoes and grabbed his stuff, helping you over to the couch so he could get down on his knees and help you get your shoes on, tugging one of his sweatshirts over your head, although you didn't drown in it any more, he thought it was cuter now, stretched over your baby bump like this.

Rubbing his eyes with yet another yawn while he insisted on holding open the car door for you and driving you to the nearest gas station/convenience store combo that had a functioning slushie machine, keeping his mouth shut about the terrible food dyes in it while you picked out a cup and pulled the dispenser down on the blue raspberry flavor. It was nice. Your head resting on his shoulder and happily sipping through the straw while he paid the equally tired cashier, your hand in his after he pocketed the receipt while you walked to the car, his thumb rubbing over the bare spot beneath your knuckle where a ring should be.

The one that had been tucked inside a box in his closet, buried under photo albums and souvenirs of a lifetime you'd already spent together. One he'd seen through the window of a jewelry store on the street, the glittering stone and the thin band, the little offset gems, something about it that made him think of what it'd look like on you. He bought it even though Satoru laughed at him the entire drive home.

"You're not even dating her."

Who else would you marry if not him?

He glanced back over at you as he turned the key in the ignition, your sleepy eyes and your pretty smile, the way your other hand was settled over the swell of your stomach.

His girls.

The drive back home was filled with the sort of chatter that used to be casual for you two - your happy giggle ringing in his ears while you talked about some reality show you wanted to watch with him, swearing it was stupid but he'd still like it anyway, your hand drifting over to his leg, pausing on his thigh while you asked what him and Satoru talked about after you went to sleep.

Your slushie was almost empty by the time you made it back, taking the last few sips before tossing it in the trash in the kitchen and giving him a little look like you wanted him to help get your shoes off but didn't want to ask.

He did it for you.

Following behind you to the bedroom, tossing his stuff on the nightstand and flicking the lamp back on to bathe the room in low light.

"Thank you, Sugu," You softly said, yawning as you peeled the sweatshirt off first, shuffling out of your pajama pants until you were just in a thin t-shirt and panties, and all he could fucking think was how could you be thanking him? When you were giving him his dream on the prettiest platter he'd ever seen?

"You're so-" He started, but you weren't finished, shyly avoiding his gaze as your mouth opened again. The mood had shifted again, your face scrunched up like you were sad.

"I just feel bad, you know?" He didn't. "You're just, so, perfect, and so you, and you got stuck with me and a baby you didn't plan on."

"Stuck with you?" He echoed, blinking blankly at you while you kept stumbling over your words.

"I just, uh, I want you to know you don't have to marry me just because you feel obligated to, you know, if, um, you met someone else-" You looked like you were going to be sick just saying it.

Was this what had you so worried?

"There isn't ever going to be anyone else," Suguru bluntly cut you off.

"You don't know that," You argued, struggling to be the better person, not to be greedy when that was exactly what he'd waited years for.

"I'm in love with you."

You froze.

Glossy eyes wide with surprise, your lips parted and stained blue still, shoulders tense.

He turned back to the closet, snagging the box of the shelf and tossing it on the bed, shuffling through loose photos and little gifts you'd given him through the years he couldn't bear to break or lose until he found the velvet box at the bottom.

Getting down on one knee was the second-easiest decision he ever made in his life. The first was choosing you to begin with.

"Sugu," Your voice quivered, breath hitching in your throat.

"I bought this for you three years ago," He admitted, dark eyes piercing through to you, studying the way your face seemed to glow from the light of the lamp. And sure, of all the ways he'd imagined this moment going, he never once pictured it like this. But that didn't matter. Because this was real. Raw. "I love you. I did then, and I do now, and if you ask me again in fifteen years, I'm sure I will then too."

He popped the ring box open, and he didn't think your mouth could drop open any more but it did, your cute little gasp making his pulse thrum louder in his ears while your attention flickered back-and-forth between his sharp stare and the ring he hoped you'd accept.

"Marry me."

It wasn't quite a question, or a plea. An open statement of affection, a quiet promise of a lifetime of it.

You swallowed, barely bobbing your head up and down in a nod at first, a slow smile taking shape on your lips like you still couldn't believe it.

"O-okay," You stammered, an airy laugh slipping out while you tried to blink away the disbelief. "I-"

He grabbed your left hand where it was still hanging by your side, plucking the ring out of the box and slipping it on your finger, swiveling it a little around the knuckle for it to sit snugly at the base.

"You're really serious? No take backs, okay?" You murmured, holding your hand up to admire the way it glittered even in the low light while he laughed. You tugged him up to his feet by his hand, pressing yourself against his chest and glancing up at him, a hint of something unsure still lingering in the lines of your face. "You're mine."

That was supposed to be his line.

Then. Now. Always.

"We can go sign the paperwork Monday if you want, or have a wedding, before or after the baby-"

"I don't care how we do it," You interrupted him this time, reaching up to cup his cheek. The gentle touch, your soft fingertips, the adoration in your eyes when you got up on your tiptoes to plant a small kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"I always kinda wanted to see you in a white dress," He chuckled, grabbing your chin between his fingers to give you a proper kiss back, sucking on your lower lip, the taste of blue raspberry still on your tongue.

"Yeah? Seven months pregnant?" You laughed back when you broke away for a breath.

"You seriously have no idea what you do to me," He breathlessly murmured into your skin.

"You could show me," You tilted your head to the side, but your eyes flickered back to the ring on your finger, the proof of it already there.

"Tease," He muttered as his lips ghosted over your cheek, pulling you back over to the edge of the mattress. He used his free hand to tug the box back down to the floor, nudging it away with his foot.

Half past four in the morning and he was taking his fiancèe to bed instead of his girlfriend.

He made sure you were comfortable first, readjusting you until the pillows were nestled under your head, ignoring your giggles while he moved the blankets aside and climbed up after you, hooking a leg over his shoulder after he peeled your underwear down your thighs.

"I was kidding," You laughed while he licked a long stripe up the inside of your thigh, the sound turning into a pretty gasp when he dipped his tongue inside.

"I wasn't," His voice was muffled into your skin, fingers dipping against the soft flesh on your thigh and hip as he held on tighter, his tongue slipping inside deeper, dragging the muscle along the inside of your walls.

A taste he missed, too long since you last let him try it.

Your fingers tangled into his hair, moaning as he practiced steady patterns, pulling him closer into your heat while he used your hips like handlebars to refuse to let you squirm away from him again.

You still tried, writhing under the weight of his palms, although he knew his clipped nails wouldn't leave a mark.

"Oh," You squeaked, a cute strangled noise escaping when he dragged his tongue out and ran it over your clit, tracing small shapes with the tip of it.

"Better get used to being mine, baby," He hummed, peeking up to watch the way you still shivered at the sound of his voice, how you were finally about to be his in every sense of the word.

"I always was," Your lighthearted laugh cut off by another lewd moan, your hips still trying to arch up.

Planting open-mouthed kisses along your swollen bud while your fingers tugged at his scalp, your gasps of his name cut through the quiet.

Your thigh still up on his shoulder to give him easier access, the muscles pulling tense under his grip and the way your breath had started to stutter let him know you were close before you managed to barely stammer it out.

"Please, please, please."

Your legs were trembling, soft whimpers that were almost incoherent imprinting themselves in his memory while you unraveled underneath him, his tongue cleaning you up like it hadn't caused it. Teasing you before you managed to piece yourself back together, sucking softly on your oversensitive bundle of nerves just for you to let out a whine of his name.

"Tired, baby?" He couldn't help his smirk, leaving a kiss on the inside of your thigh before climbing off the bed to snag you a fresh pair of underwear from the dresser, slipping it up your legs for you so didn't have to do the awkward shuffle of getting it back on.

"Maybe," You admitted, rubbing your eyes as you patted the spot next to you for him to lay. "I am growing your baby."

He smiled.

"We can sleep in, alright?" He could feel his own eyes crinkle, flicking the light off on the lamp, the faint moonlight cutting the dark of the room. He pulled the covers up as he got in his side of the bed, readjusting until your head was resting on his chest.

Suguru usually got up before you, made breakfast and brewed the coffee and started the laundry, but tomorrow (or today, technically)? He would spend the sunrise holding you close and wait for you to wake up to take you out for brunch or lunch or whatever you wanted.

"Hey, Suguru?" You murmured, stifling a yawn as you peeked up at him through heavy lidded eyes.

"Mhm?" He stroked your hair back, admiring his future wife snuggled up in his arms.

"I love you."

want more dilf!Suguru with his post-partum wife? here!

“o-oh! again jase, do that a-again,” you pleaded desperately, nails digging into his chest—leaving faint red lines as your back arched, grounding your clit more persistently against him. his heart pounds erratically beneath your fingertips, matching the rhythm of your own racing pulse at the sheer vulgarity of the situation, the depravity of it all, only serving to turn you both on even more.

“yeah? you like this shit?” jason’s face was flushed as he continued to help you—a picture of a man lost in the throes of lust. the plane of his stomach flexes and dances for your sensitive cunt fluttering around nothing while his rigid cock remains throbbing in time with the tension of each contraction, leaking steadily now onto your skin—branding you.

“mhm! feels s’goooood.”

he was absolutely drunk on the heavenly visual just perched on top of him, taking in every filthy detail. his god damn angel of a girl, rutting onto him like some puppy in heat—he couldn’t handle it. the muscle in his jaw ticking in his cheek as his ears pick up the sound of your wet flesh squelching against him, mixing in with your sweet whimpers and the creaking of the bed from the force of your movements, using his body needily for your pleasure. “didn’t know my sweetheart was such a fuckin’ pervert.”

“stop acting like you hate this,” you huffed.

“never said i did.”

one hand slid up your side to grope and squeeze at the soft mound of your breast roughly, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. you whined, gazing down at him with hooded eyes at the duel sensation. he could feel your body starting to tremble, could hear the change in your breathing and high pitch of your little mewls—hurtling you towards your peak embarrassingly fast.

“that’s right, soak me.” he urged, his voice strained with the effort of holding back from thrusting his pelvis up, “i wanna feel you fuckin’ gush all over me, baby. give it to me.”

the crude vulgar words falling from his lips only heighten the intensity of the moment, pushing you closer to a climax that’ll for sure have you seeing stars.

“mngh—! you’re so nasty jay.”

“says the one humping my—“

“s-shut up.” you quickly press your palm over his mouth, stifling his amused grin. but the crinkle in his eyes gave him away as he mumbled a, “yes ma’am.”

“f- fuck, suguruuu,” your shaky babbles sob away from your lips, flickering your eyes back at each clashing smack of his snapping hips. geto has such ruthless vigor too. his body grinds into yours as the tense muscles that lived in his back sexily flexed at his strenuous thrusts. geto hums, peering as your palms suddenly cover your face.

“mhm- don’t hide, i wanna see my girl,” he huskily prowls, grabbing your wrists while still unapologetically churning through your convulsing insides. geto’s enormous stretch makes itself known to your pussy constantly. “her too- actuallyyy,” and you moaned, feeling geto’s slender fingers snake their way up your thigh. an open hand lifts your jouncing leg, slightly bringing your knee to hook around his hip.

“she’s so wet, think she wants a… hah- different angle. fuuuuck- there we go. atta baby.”

from all sides, geto’s body was crying with sweat, and each of his shoulder blades that flexed continued to accelerate after each powerful hit. geto’s cock was big, forever and always stretching past the gripping tight ring of your entrance that preciously hugged him so tight.

he’s dragging himself in ‘n out, zigzagging his ruby tip through each part of your pussy until it squelched out the syllables of his first and last name. you were just so responsive, and you’re whimpering once he maintains a firm grasp against your bent knee with a single hand.

“fuck- mhm, sugu- ah,” and it only takes a few long seconds before he’s piercing into your sloppy wet core. each time geto’s hips sharply pop forward between your wobbly thighs, you let off cute mewls of the only thing your mind could even register for you to speak out - his name.

he’s just riiiight there, massaging the pearl of your clit with his tip until your brain loses a few screws. “mngh-” you’d whine, your sounds growing a bit muffled.

“keep this pretty knee up for me,” geto whispers, clouds of hitched hot breath falling against your skin. geto’s body sloppily presses itself into you, skipping sleazy fingertips up the slope of your thigh.

the angle gets even deeper… and with just the perfect amount of degree of his hips arching further, geto could hear his weighty base slopping loudly inside after every sticky pap. the crown of your knee remains bent and geto then makes your entire leg wrap around his slim torso.

“mmph-” he’d prevent a guttural grunt from parting way from his raspy lungs. the bed repeatedly roared countless of times with creaks that sounded like it was in utter, distress.

the bed base was poorly aged, nagging the more geto’s rugged hips drove into your famished cunt. your body’s arch was so pretty, and the upturned tip of his nose abruptly buried into your shoulder. as you’re whimpering until your chords grow raw, geto snickers once he felt your weak legs gradually starting to flop down. “hah- ‘m even holding your leg ‘n you’re still sooo damn… lazy.”

“s- suguru,” you’d moan out his name, trying to count each wet thrust in your head. it’s so loud that each slap! of fleshy wet skin rings through each of your twitching ears.

another thing that twitched though, was your cunt.

geto aligns his bulbous tip against the drooling entrance of your clit before smearing it all around with kisses. he’s so precise, rocking into your body while digging his fingertips into your feverish flesh. “ ‘m gonna fuckin’ -ah, cum.”

geto groans, his tone shifting to sound more sonorous with the dangerous pitch, and that’s when he sneaks an open palm between your thighs. miles and miles of your juices tear down the cracked arc of your legs, and he starts to smear it all up before his hand re-locates it’s way back toward your sopping pussy.

oh, you were just leaking like a faucet, and it seemed like after he lifted your leg for a better angle, you were even wetter than you were before.

“haah- me too, ‘m so close, sweet thing. fuck, she’s bein’ a bit mean today.. isn’t that right?” he hoarsely mutters, giving the center part of your entrance a nice, wet whack.

a bit of your slick splatters across his palm and geto hums, bringing his hand up to his mouth to lick the treacly mess. “mhm, she just can’t help but be so damn wet it seems. tryin’ s- so hard to drown me, huh.”

geto’s buried balls deep, six feet under at most, like a coffin.

your eyes were already shamefully bulging out of their enlarged sockets as your jaw hung agape. “u- ugh,” you’d claw a hand down his back, feeling your teeth shatter at the brief hot pangs of skin against skin. he’s making sure to tap his swollen head against that tender nub of yours, rendering you speechless.

you nearly blind yourself with your own eyes, the constant hysterical flapping of each lash making you whimper. soooo deep -

the force of geto’s stuttering hips had such a rhythm that your entire body felt the shock of his thrusts. a dewy tear of sweat dribbles down your curved spine and you’re just wailing for him to keep hitting that same spot.

“f.. fuck,” geto grunts, sliding a hand near your hip. each swallowing second he spends inside you, he could feel you clenching all around him. his tip’s an angry beat red, and he’s taking his cautious time to shower your needy clit with a plethora of kisses. “ ‘m cummin, baby. keep this knee back, let’s give you another . . hah- good fillin.’”

both build of orgasms were just as intense, so much so that it almost felt dreamlike..

he’s pulling his hips back and forth, putting his mouth over yours to playfully suck in your shallow breaths. the dripping tip of geto’s tongue slips into your mouth, and he could feel each muscle in his thighs squeeeeeze with longing anticipation.

“s- sugu!” you’d squeal, whining as your slick tongue ends up tangling with his. your heart’s never raced more quickly, and he’s starting to nibble on your upper, quickening lip while darkened eyes slowly look up at you.

once geto cums, it’s a thick batch - it’s creamy, flooding into you with such quickness that you’re left not only wordless but breathless too.

his cock’s blushing tip was oh-so-tender, reddening each time it batters its way inside of your creaming pussy. every concluding slosh that exited from between your thighs had you gasping for air like a fish out of water, and you were shivering once your release arrived at the same time as his..

as his heavy thighs merely crushed against your hot skin, geto felt your entire body that lay underneath him grow limp. black overgrown tresses glued against his forehead as a bubbly, white ring started to form around his milked-out base.

geto shields a grunt into your neck, feeling his parched seed ooze out of your puffed cunt. it’s so filthy that it even starts trickling its way down the valley of your pried pretty thighs.

“mhm- good girl,” and he’s just casually talking over your inaudible whimpers, bringing a thumb toward your spit-glossed lips. you’re still shaking, gnawing at the bars of your enclosure before he licks the bottom of your poked-out lip. “shhh- atta girl, i know. riiiide it out baby, there we fuckin’ go.”

geto collapses onto your chest, all limp sticking against each other like paste as you’re both covered in such slimy messes before you heave in a single breath. “s- suguru, mng-”

“yeah, sweet girl. my thoughts exactly,” he phews jokingly, trying to get over his orgasmic high as he’s still pumping a never-ending load of cum inside of you. geto kisses the top of your head before his hands leisurely push your knees up toward your chest. “heyy,” he breathlessly coos, watching as you let off a bundle of more sweet, defeated whines. “think you can go a little deeper?”

and you moaned, feeling geto’s chiseled pecs gently slump against your chest. with your knees up toward your jiggling breasts, he gives your runny pussy one final soft spank.

“hah- lets see if these weak legs can handle a good mating press, hm, big girl?”

in two strides, he was in front of you, his large hands gripping your hips as he pressed you back against the desk. “you want to play games?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his tone dropping into something dangerous. “let’s see how long you can keep that act up.”

his hands slid lower, gripping the curve of your ass and pulling you flush against him. the heat of his body, the hardness pressing into your core, had your breath hitching despite yourself.

“kento,” you whispered, his name slipping from your lips like a plea.

“don’t,” he growled, spinning you around and bending you over the desk in one smooth motion. “don’t start begging yet, sweetheart. we’re just getting started.”

his hands pushed your dress higher, bunching it around your waist as he drank in the sight of you, the thin lace of your panties barely hiding how soaked you were. “fuck,” he muttered, his voice rough, filled with something raw. “look at you. so wet and needy already.”

he hooked his fingers into your panties, dragging them down slowly, the cool air raising goosebumps on your skin. you whimpered, trying to shift, but his hands pressed firmly against your hips, holding you in place.

“stay still,” he ordered, his voice commanding but soft with control. “you don’t get to move until I’m finished with you.”

his hand slid between your thighs, his fingers finding your slick folds and spreading you open. he groaned softly, a deep, guttural sound that made your knees weak. “so fucking perfect,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your clit in a slow, teasing circle.

you gasped, your body arching instinctively, but he pressed you down against the desk, his other hand firm on your lower back. “patience,” he muttered, though the strain in his voice made it clear he was talking to himself as much as to you.

when you turned your head to look at him, he leaned down, catching your lips in a messy, spit-slick kiss. his tongue slid against yours, hot and insistent, as his fingers slid inside you, curling just enough to make your breath hitch.

“you like that?” he murmured against your mouth, his voice low and rough. “you like how good i make you feel?”

you could only moan, your words catching in your throat as he worked you open, his fingers thrusting deep, unrelenting. his thumb pressed against your clit, drawing tighter circles as your body trembled.

“k-kento,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as the pleasure built to unbearable heights.

“not yet,” he growled, pulling his fingers out, leaving you gasping. “you’re not coming until i’m inside you.”

he freed himself from his slacks, his cock thick and heavy, the tip already slick as he pressed it against your entrance. “you ready for me?” he asked, his tone rough, though he didn’t wait for an answer before pushing inside.

the stretch was overwhelming, his girth filling you completely as you cried out, your nails clawing at the desk. “fuck,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he sank in to the hilt. “you feel so good.”

he gave you no time to adjust, his thrusts slow but deep, each one deliberate, leaving you breathless. the slick sound of your arousal filled the room, mingling with the soft creak of the desk and his ragged breaths.

“so fucking tight,” he muttered, his hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back just enough to whisper in your ear. “you’re perfect for me, you know that?”

you whimpered, your body trembling as he quickened his pace, his cock sliding in and out with a rhythm that had you spiraling. his free hand slid down, gripping your jaw and tilting your face toward him.

“open,” he commanded, and when you did, his tongue slid into your mouth, messy and possessive. when he pulled back, a thin string of spit connected you, and his smirk deepened. “so fucking pretty like this. all mine.”

his thrusts grew rougher, his pace unrelenting as your body tightened around him, your moans growing louder with every movement. “that’s it,” he groaned, his fingers sliding down to rub your clit. “come for me, sweetheart. let me feel it.”

his words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing as your climax hit, your walls clenching around him as a cry tore from your lips. nanami followed moments later, his grip on your hips bruising as he buried himself deep, spilling into you with a low, guttural groan.

he stayed there for a moment, his forehead resting against your shoulder as his chest heaved, his hands still gripping your hips as if he couldn’t let go.

finally, he straightened, pulling you up to face him, his hands gentle on your hips as his thumbs brushed softly over your skin. his gaze, once intense, now held a warmth that melted through the air between you.

leaning in, he pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, tender and unhurried. “you’re everything,” he murmured, his voice low and steady against your skin. “and i’ll never let you forget it.”

✶ CHOSO

the fire crackled softly, casting warm, flickering light across the dim room. you were nestled in choso’s lap, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist, holding you as if he was afraid you might disappear. the silence between you was comfortable, broken only by the soft purring of the flames and the occasional rustle of fabric as you shifted.

“you’ve been quiet,” you murmured, your fingers brushing over his cheek, tracing the delicate lines of his features.

“just... thinking,” he replied, his voice low, almost hesitant. his dark eyes met yours, searching for something you couldn’t quite name.

“about what?”

“you,” he admitted, his blush deepening as he averted his gaze.

your heart softened at the admission, and you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “what about me?”

his hands tightened slightly on your hips, grounding himself. “about how much i want to take care of you. to make you feel good.”

your cheeks flushed, and your breath hitched as you felt his fingers brush against your back, his touch hesitant, almost reverent. “you always take care of me,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“not like this,” he whispered, his gaze lifting to meet yours again, vulnerability shining in his eyes.

his hands slid down to your thighs, guiding you to straddle him fully. his grip was gentle but steady, his touch warm against your skin. you could feel him beneath you, hard and warm, his need evident, but he made no move to rush you.

“is this okay?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

you nodded, your hands cupping his face as you leaned in to kiss him, your lips soft against his. he responded eagerly, his hands tightening on your hips as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours in a tentative exploration.

“let me,” he murmured against your lips, his hands moving to guide you as he shifted slightly, positioning himself.

you gasped softly as he entered you, the slow stretch making your breath hitch. his hands were steady on your hips, his gaze locked on yours as he watched every flicker of emotion that crossed your face.

“you’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

you began to move, your hands braced on his shoulders as you rocked your hips against him. his breath hitched, his grip tightening as he struggled to hold himself together.

“you feel so good,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. “so perfect for me.”

“choso,” you breathed, your voice soft, your fingers threading into his hair as you leaned into him.

his arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he buried his face in your neck, his lips brushing against your skin in soft, reverent kisses. his pace was unhurried, each thrust deliberate, his focus entirely on you.

“tell me what you need,” he whispered, his voice laced with desperation. “i’ll do anything. just tell me.”

“you’re already giving me everything,” you replied, your voice trembling as you pressed your forehead against his.

his movements grew more urgent, his breath coming faster as he felt you tighten around him, your soft moans spurring him on. “please,” he murmured, his voice breaking slightly as he held you closer. “let go for me. i need to feel you.”

his words pushed you over the edge, your body trembling as pleasure crashed over you in waves. you clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as his name spilled from your lips.

he followed seconds later, his groan low and guttural as he buried himself deep, his grip on you almost desperate. he held you there, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath, his hands brushing soothingly over your back.

“did i do okay?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze searching yours.

“you were perfect,” you assured him, pressing a kiss to his temple.

he smiled, his expression soft, filled with love as he held you close, the warmth of the fire wrapping around you both like a blanket.

✶ GETO

the christmas market was a sensory overload of laughter, twinkling lights, and the sugary scent of roasted treats. but none of it held your attention, not when suguru geto had been making subtle moves all evening—brushing his fingers over yours, leaning in a little too close to murmur something in your ear, letting his hand rest low on your back.

you were supposed to be admiring the twinkling lights strung across the market stalls, but all you could focus on was the heat simmering in your body, stoked by the glances he kept throwing your way.

“having fun?” he asked, his tone smooth, his lips quirking up in a knowing smile as he caught the way you were looking at him.

“fun enough,” you replied, feigning nonchalance, though your voice betrayed you, trembling slightly under the weight of his gaze.

“is that right?” he mused, his hand brushing against yours before gripping it firmly. without another word, he led you away from the bustling market, slipping into a quiet, snow-dusted alley.

the moment you were out of sight, his lips were on yours, hot and demanding, his body pressing you back against the rough brick wall. his hands were firm on your waist, pulling you flush against him as his mouth claimed yours, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip just enough to make you gasp.

“you’ve been teasing me all night,” he muttered against your lips, his voice low, a dark edge coloring his tone. “touching me, looking at me like that. you think i wouldn’t notice?”

“i wasn’t—” you started, but the words died on your tongue as his hand slid up your thigh, pushing your dress higher.

“don’t lie to me,” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with warning as his fingers found the damp fabric of your panties. “your body tells me everything i need to know.”

your breath hitched as his fingers pressed against you, slow and deliberate, stroking over the wet heat that had been building all evening.

“fuck,” he muttered, his smirk widening as he pushed the fabric aside, letting his fingers slide over your slick folds. “you’re soaked, aren’t you? you’ve been like this all night, haven’t you?”

“suguru,” you whimpered, your hips jerking against his hand as his fingers slipped inside, curling just right to make you gasp.

“say my name again,” he commanded, his tone rough as he thrust his fingers deeper, his thumb brushing over your clit with maddening precision.

“suguru,” you moaned, your voice breaking as your head tipped back against the wall.

he chuckled, the sound dark and satisfied as he pulled his fingers out, his other hand working quickly to free his cock. “can’t wait any longer,” he muttered, his voice strained as he lined himself up, his tip pressing against your entrance.

with one slow, powerful thrust, he filled you completely, the stretch making your breath catch as he groaned low in his throat.

“fuck,” he muttered, his hands gripping your thighs as he lifted you slightly, pinning you against the wall. “you feel too fucking good.”

his movements were rough, relentless, each thrust driving you harder against the wall, the friction of the bricks biting into your skin but only adding to the intensity.

“look at you,” he growled, his voice dripping with arrogance as his eyes locked onto yours. “you love this, don’t you? being fucked out in the open like this, where anyone could see.”

you couldn’t respond, your mind too fogged with pleasure as he drove into you, his pace unrelenting, his cock hitting all the right spots.

“say it,” he demanded, his grip tightening on your hips. “tell me how much you love being mine.”

“i love it,” you gasped, your voice trembling as you clung to him. “i love being yours, suguru.”

“that’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice low and full of satisfaction.

his thumb found your clit again, circling it with just enough pressure to push you closer to the edge. his teeth grazed your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, “come for me. i want to feel you.”

you shattered around him, your body trembling as pleasure ripped through you, your walls clenching tight around him. his rhythm faltered, his groan deep and guttural as he buried himself deep, his release spilling into you in hot waves.

he stayed there for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath. when he finally pulled back, his smirk returned, wicked and self-assured.

“next year, let’s skip the market,” he murmured, his voice teasing but laced with promise. “i’d rather spend the night fucking you senseless instead.”

✶ SUKUNA

sukuna doesn’t do patience. not when it comes to you.

it’s christmas eve, and the palace is silent, save for the crackle of a roaring fire in the meeting room’s hearth. the long, cold table stretches out behind you, but you’re too busy backing sukuna into one of the wide, throne-like chairs at its head, a daring glint in your eye that he can’t seem to look away from.

you’ve been testing him all evening, teasing glances and little smiles, swaying your hips just enough to make his blood boil. and now, with the way his heavy cocks throb against his robes, his crimson eyes fixed on you as if you’re prey, it’s clear he’s at the end of his frayed restraint.

“you’ve been pushing me all fucking night,” he growls, his massive frame towering over you as you position yourself between his knees, tugging at the edges of his robes.

“what are you gonna do about it?” you taunt, feigning innocence as your fingers trail up his thighs. the heat of his skin seeps through the fabric, your touch deliberate and slow.

“oh, princess,” he sneers darkly, gripping your wrists with his clawed hands, yanking you to straddle his lap with a force that leaves you breathless. “you’ll regret asking that.”

with a flick of his wrist, the hem of your dress is bunched up around your waist. his eyes drink you in, dark and ravenous as his hands trace the curve of your thighs.

“do you even realize what you’ve done to me?” he mutters, his voice low, dangerous. “walking around like that all night, looking like something to unwrap.”

“maybe i did,” you whisper, the heat in your cheeks betrayed by the coy smirk on your lips.

his laugh is sharp, almost cruel, as he yanks the thin strip of fabric covering you to the side. “you have no idea what you’re asking for.”

the first cock presses against your slick folds, the stretch and fullness stealing the breath from your lungs as he buries himself to the hilt in one swift motion. you gasp, nails clawing at his broad shoulders as the sensation overwhelms you.

“fuck,” he groans, his head tipping back for a moment before his red eyes snap to yours. “always so tight. so perfect.”

his second cock, still throbbing and heavy, slides up against your slick, the ridged underside grinding against your sensitive clit with each rough thrust. the friction makes you tremble, and sukuna’s smirk widens, satisfaction radiating from every inch of him.

“you’re a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” he sneers, his voice thick with mockery as his hips move faster, his grip on your waist bruising. “already dripping, already wanting more.”

you’re about to snap back when you feel it—a wet, hot pressure against your clit. sukuna’s second mouth splits open just above where he’s buried inside you, and his tongue flicks out to lap at the swollen bundle of nerves.

“fuck, sukuna!” you cry out, your body jerking at the overwhelming sensation.

“look at you,” he growls, his breath hot against your ear. “falling apart already. and we’re just getting started.”

desperate for some control, your shaky hand reaches down, wrapping around his second cock. the thick shaft pulses under your grip, and sukuna groans loudly, his hips faltering for the briefest moment.

“you think you can keep up with me?” he rasps, his tone dripping with arrogance as his tongue flicks faster against your clit. “go ahead, princess. show me.”

you stroke him, your fingers tightening around the thick girth, and he grits his teeth, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he struggles to maintain his composure.

“you’re close, aren’t you?” he taunts, his voice low, vibrating through the tongue lapping mercilessly at you. “just let go. i want to feel it.”

the heat coils tighter in your core, unbearable and relentless, until the dam finally breaks. your body shudders violently, a gush of liquid soaking him as you come undone, your grip faltering completely. sukuna groans, his hand gripping your waist harder as he rides through your release, his tongue savoring every drop of your pleasure.

“fuck,” he snarls, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he watches the mess you’ve made. “you fucking drenched me.”

before you can catch your breath, his second mouth opens wider, latching onto your oversensitive clit, and you let out a choked sob as the sensation drags you to another peak. sukuna’s free hand tangles in your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp.

“sukuna,” you plead, your voice breaking as he pushes you past every limit, the stretch of his cock and the relentless flick of his tongue too much.

“that’s it,” he growls, his voice rough as his thrusts grow desperate, chasing his own release. with a final, deep thrust, he shudders, spilling hot and thick inside you as his tongue flicks one last time, sending you spiraling into another wave of pleasure.

you collapse against him, trembling and breathless, his chest heaving beneath you as he runs a clawed hand through your hair.

“merry fucking christmas,” he mutters, his lips brushing against your ear. “you’ll be feeling me for days.”

✶ GOJO

satoru gojo hated christmas parties.

too much noise, too many fake smiles, and far too many people trying to steal your attention. he’d spent the entire evening watching from the sidelines, his jaw tight, his fingers itching to drag you away from every lingering gaze and polite laugh.

you were glowing tonight, wrapped in a soft white dress that clung to all the right places, your laughter like music that had him buzzing with frustration and desire.

by the time you excused yourself from the party’s main room, he couldn’t wait a second longer.

“where are we going?” you asked, breathless, as he tugged you down the quiet hallway, his grip firm but not rough.

“somewhere quiet,” he replied, his tone deceptively light as he pushed open a bathroom door and locked it behind you.

“satoru—”

he didn’t let you finish. his lips were on yours in an instant, the kiss hot and insistent, his hands gripping your waist as if he couldn’t bear another second without touching you.

you gasped against his mouth, your hands fisting in his shirt as his tongue slid against yours, coaxing you into a rhythm that had you melting.

“you’ve been driving me insane all night,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low, each word vibrating against your skin. “walking around in this dress, smiling at everyone like that. you really think I can just stand there and watch?”

“i wasn’t trying to—”

“doesn’t matter,” he interrupted, his hands sliding down to the hem of your dress, his fingers curling into the soft fabric. “you’re mine tonight.”

his lips moved to your neck, nipping at the delicate skin as he pushed the dress higher, his touch deliberate, unhurried, as if he wanted to savor every moment.

“you’re so fucking pretty,” he muttered, his breath warm against your neck as his hands slid up your thighs. “do you even know what you do to me?”

you whimpered, your body already responding to his touch, the heat pooling low in your belly as his fingers found the edge of your panties, tugging them down in one smooth motion.

“satoru,” you whispered, your voice trembling as he spread your legs, his blue eyes blazing with hunger.

he grinned, the look in his eyes nothing short of wicked as he kneeled before you, his broad hands gripping your thighs to pull you closer.

“can’t wait to taste you,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin as his lips trailed up your inner thigh.

he didn’t waste any more time, his tongue flicking against your clit with practiced ease, drawing a sharp gasp from you. his grip on your thighs tightened as he pressed his mouth against you, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes that had you clutching the sink for support.

“fuck, you’re perfect,” he muttered, his voice muffled against your core as he worked you open, his tongue sliding inside you with a precision that left you trembling.

your fingers found his hair, tugging gently as his tongue flicked against your clit, the pressure building with every movement.

“satoru,” you gasped, your voice breaking as he sucked gently, sending a shockwave through your entire body.

“so sweet,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire as he pulled back for just a moment to look up at you. “keep making those pretty sounds for me.”

his tongue moved faster, his hands sliding up to grip your hips, holding you in place as he pushed you closer to the edge.

just as you teetered on the brink, a sharp knock at the door made you freeze.

“occupied,” satoru called smoothly, his voice light and teasing, though his eyes never left yours.

“fine,” came toji’s gruff voice from the other side. “guess I’ll find another.”

“relax,” satoru murmured, smirking as he leaned in to kiss your inner thigh. “he’s not coming back.”

his fingers slid between your folds, pressing against your clit as his tongue returned to work, the combination of sensations driving you over the edge.

“let go for me,” he murmured, his voice soft but commanding. “i want to feel you fall apart.”

you did, your body arching against him as your climax tore through you, your cry muffled against his shoulder as waves of pleasure rippled through you.

he didn’t stop, his tongue slowing to draw out every last aftershock until your legs were trembling, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

finally, he pulled back, his smirk softening as he pressed a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.

“merry christmas, pretty girl,” he murmured, his blue eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and warmth as he stood, pulling you into his arms. “you’re the best present I’ve ever had.”

✶ TOJI

toji fushiguro was never one for holiday cheer, but he’d come to the damn christmas party anyway—because of you.

you’d looked unreal all night, that white dress hugging every curve, the soft glow of the fairy lights giving you an ethereal edge. toji couldn’t tear his eyes away.

you looked like an angel. the kind they put on top of christmas trees. but toji thought bitterly, grinding his teeth, i’d much rather have her on top of my di—.

he couldn’t shake the image, couldn’t focus on anything else but the way the dress swayed as you moved, the way your laugh made his pulse race. by the time the party reached its peak, he was practically pacing, his frustration coiling tight in his chest.

finally, he decided he needed a minute to himself. toji stalked down the hall, heading for the bathroom with every intention of relieving the problem he’d been dealing with all night.

his hand reached for the doorknob, but before he could turn it, a familiar voice rang out from the other side.

“occupied,” gojo sang, his tone smug as hell.

toji froze, his jaw tightening as a faint, breathy sound drifted through the door. his brow twitched.

great. even that loser is getting more action than me.

“fucking unreal,” he muttered, stalking off toward the stairs, his shoulders tense.

he made his way to the second floor, pushing open a random door to find an empty guest room. toji sank onto the edge of the bed with a low groan, his head tipping back against the wall as he tried—and failed—to push you out of his mind.

it didn’t help that the faint sounds of the party still filtered through the floorboards, or that every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was you.

he was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear the door creak open until it was too late.

“toji?”

his head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of you standing in the doorway.

you stepped inside, your heels clicking softly against the wooden floor as you closed the door behind you. “thought you might be up here.”

“you followin’ me, angel?” his voice came out rougher than he intended, his gaze locked on the way your dress shifted with every step.

you shook your head, biting your lip. “you left so suddenly. i was… worried.”

toji’s lips twitched into a smirk, though the tension still coiled tight in his chest. “worried about me?”

when you nodded, stepping closer, his patience snapped. he reached out, gripping your wrist and tugging you between his knees.

“you really don’t know what you’re doing to me, do you?” he muttered, his other hand sliding up your thigh, the fabric of your dress bunching under his fingers.

“toji,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“don’t,” he cut you off, his other hand moving to your waist, pulling you closer. “don’t act like you don’t want this too.”

you didn’t deny it. instead, you let him pull you onto his lap, your hands finding his shoulders as he claimed your mouth in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, his frustration pouring out in every rough swipe of his lips.

“been thinking about you all fucking night,” he growled against your lips, his hands sliding under your dress to grip your bare hips. “lookin’ like a damn angel. how the hell am i supposed to keep my hands off you?”

“then don’t,” you murmured, your voice breathy as you shifted against him, feeling the hard press of his cock through his slacks.

his laugh was low, dangerous. “careful what you wish for, angel.”

toji flipped you onto the bed in one swift motion, your back meeting the soft sheets as he settled between your legs. his hands were rough but reverent, sliding up your thighs to push your dress higher, revealing the thin lace of your panties.

“fuck,” he muttered, his gaze darkening as he hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled them down, the fabric sliding over your skin before landing on the floor.

his lips followed the path of his hands, kissing up the inside of your thigh, his teeth grazing just enough to make you squirm.

“so pretty,” he murmured, his voice almost soft as he kissed the curve of your hip.

he unbuckled his belt with a practiced ease, his slacks sliding just enough for him to free his cock, already hard and thick, the head flushed as he stroked himself once.

“you ready for me, angel?” he murmured, his gaze locking onto yours, dark and unrelenting.

you nodded, your breath hitching as you shifted beneath him, your legs spreading wider.

“good girl,” he muttered, lining himself up with your entrance. with one powerful thrust, he buried himself inside you, his cock stretching you until he was fully seated, the sound of your breathless gasp making his grip on your hips tighten.

“fuck,” he groaned, his voice low and rough as he pulled back, only to thrust into you again, the slick heat of you making him shudder. “feel so good, angel. you’re fucking perfect.”

each thrust was deep, deliberate, his pace unrelenting as he drove into you, the bed creaking beneath you. your nails dug into his shoulders, your head tipping back as the pleasure built, each movement hitting spots that left you trembling.

“look at you,” he muttered, his voice thick with awe. “falling apart for me. so damn beautiful.”

you couldn’t form words, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as he shifted, angling his hips to hit even deeper. the pressure built with each thrust, your body tightening around him as he brought you closer to the edge.

“toji,” you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper, the sound enough to make his thrusts grow rougher, more desperate.

“that’s it,” he growled, his hand sliding up to tangle in your hair. “come for me, angel. i want to feel you.”

his words sent you spiraling, your body arching beneath him as your climax crashed over you, your walls clenching around him as your cries filled the room.

“fuck,” he groaned, his thrusts growing erratic as he buried himself deep inside you, spilling into you with a low, guttural sound.

toji stayed there, his breath warm against your neck as he caught his breath. pulling back slightly, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek.

“can’t get enough of you,” he murmured, his voice rough but tender.

he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling you close, his arms wrapping around you. “stay with me,” he muttered softly. “just a little longer.”

"It's been a half hour, and I'm going 20 km/h. I can barely see, Chris." Jeongin complained, both hands gripping the wheel.

You looked up at his comment, and squinted through the windshield. Rain is pelting it horizontally, even at his slow speed. The wind must be picking up.

Chris sighed in the passenger seat, picking up his phone that’s connected to car play, and rerouting the gps. 

"Yeah, we haven't made any progress to get home really. I suppose we have no choice but to wait out the storm. I’ll see if there’s a rest stop, or a restaurant or something close by.” He said.

“Ugh, I don’t want to deal with people!” Hyunjin wailed.

“Fine, fine.” Chris chuckled, still tapping away on his phone, “I'll get us all a room, there’s a motel coming up. We can just chill until it passes, then get back on the road, and hopefully home soon."

You sat back and sighed in the back seat, wanting nothing more than to get to your bed. This day was exhausting, and it seemed the night would only be longer.

Even though the plan was to complete the main section of the group project, it was still supposed to be a fun day, a fun weekend. Spent with your two closest friends, Hyunjin and Jeongin. It was hard work, having to complete this specific group assignment. But it had been going well so far, so you figured there could be more time spent just hanging out. The subject was 'wild life', and it was for your photography course. What better than going camping to make it more fun? And the cherry on top?

Chris was supposed to have stayed home.

The project was more than half done, and the deadline was weeks away. He had taken it upon himself to focus mainly on the editing portion, compiling the presentation, etc. Pictures would be emailed to him, and he'd work from home this weekend, tweaking and perfecting them.

Yet, here he is. Present, and taking control yet again. Sucking all the fun out of your camping weekend.

Your breaking point was today, when he insisted on all of you leaving early. Claiming there were enough stills for the project to be finished, and that there was rain coming. But you wanted to at least stay until dark, if you couldn’t stay overnight one more night. You wanted a few more pictures of the fireflies glowing chartreuse in the midnight blue sky. Of nature doused in moonlight. Of the stars twinkling openly, with no light pollution to ruin the view. Of you and your friends laughing and singing around the bonfire, splashing in the lake. You wanted pictures outside of the project, you wanted to make memories to be treasured forever. 

But of course, Chris and his control issues could never allow that kind of fun.

You were glaring at the back of his head, resting on the headrest, when Hyunjin nudged you from his own seat. Both of you sitting in the back of the car, he leaned closer to say something.

"You good?" He asked in a low tone.

"Yeah, just tired, that's all."

He nodded, "I get it, today was exhausting. I never want to see another hiking trail or look at another squirrel for as long as I live."

You started chuckling, "Don't ever let our dear Jisung hear you say that."

Hyunjin just rolled his eyes, chuckling.

Jeongin pulled up to a small motel, the vacancy sign shining through the rain, bright against the dark and stormy sky.

The rain wasn't letting up at all, the roar of it only got louder when Chris opened the car door to hop out. It was downpouring on him as he ran to get the keycard to a room. As soon as he was out of sight, Jeongin turned around to fix you with that look. 

You huffed, knowing what was coming next. Even if he was the same age as you, he sure knew how to scold you like a parent. 

"Look, I know you aren't his biggest fan. But you've got to stop making your hatred so obvious. The energy is so awkward." He complained. 

"The 'energy' will be fine again when we don't have to see him nearly every day anymore. He wasn't even supposed to be here." You huffed again, crossing your arms, and not caring if you came across as childish.

"Well..." Jeongin trailed off.

You were glaring daggers at him now, "Well what?"

"He's not that bad. Honestly, I don't understand why you two bicker so much." Hyunjin chimed in.

"Yeah, I mean... he's really fun to hang out with, you'd know that if you stick around when the work is done once in a while. We've gotten to know him well in the last few months, even Jisung and Felix like him. And we met three of his friends too." Jeongin defends.

"Why do you guys even care so much about what I think of him? I’m not required to get along with or befriend everyone I meet. So you two have gone and made another friend, what does that have to do with me? It’s not like he’s being vetted into group hangs." You roll your eyes at them, pouting while you stare out your window. 

When the silence continues though, you snap your head forward again, your eyes darting between them. They both had guilty looks on their faces. Hyunjin was biting his lip like he does when he’s trying not to blurt out a secret. And Jeongin’s mouth is opening and closing, like he’s struggling to find the right thing to say.

You groan, "Please tell me you're kidding! Is this going to start interrupting karaoke nights? Friday dinners? Please don't say he's going to be invited to sleepovers and vacations. Holidays?! Those are sacred!"

"First of all, the holidays we celebrate are all fake half the time. I mean, National Nothing day, Eat a Pretzel Day, Bathtub Party Day and,” He paused, shivering for maximum dramatic effect, in true Hyune fashion, “National Eggplant day, which I still think you made up to spite me!” 

“I did not make it up! It’s August 17th, look it up! You’re not getting out of that one!” You shouted.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jeongin rubbing his temple as if a headache was coming on. So you huffed yet again, and sat back in your seat.

 “Well anyways, we've been wanting to invite him, but we know you won't come if he's there. And I honestly can't figure out why you refuse to even be around him." Hyunjin confesses.

It was true, you wouldn't go. But it's only because any time the two of you interact it ends up in yelling, or arguing, or someone— preferably him, leaving the premises. It’s best to just completely avoid it.

It was a miracle the two of you were able to get any work done together. 

Fucking Chris. You regretted ever asking him to be a part of this group project in the first place. Damn your professor for requiring groups of four. Damn your rash decision to pick him out of every other single student yet to form a group. If you had known how he really was, you never would have considered it.

He turned out to be the bane of your college existence, now squirming his way further into your everyday life.

Your jaw dropped in a scoff as you listened to them continually hyping him up, saying how he was so caring to everyone, talking about how cool his friends were. They even had the nerve to rave about how the eight of them got along great, when they all met up at the bar two weeks ago, after your last meeting for the project. 

While you declined and left the cafe to go home and catch up on much needed sleep, they were adding infiltrators to the close knit friend group. 

You cut them off when they were saying how everyone wished you had come out to join them. You know for a fact one person was glad you weren’t there. 

"I can't believe this. Is there not enough testosterone in this group as it is?!" You snapped.

Jeongin blushed and just turned around in his seat. 

Hyunjin was laughing maniacally before saying, "Calm down, I'm supposed to be the dramatic one, remember? Besides, the other two are your honorary 'babygirls', remember?"

"Whatever. He started it all anyway, he always starts it. Coming in here, all macho man, and taking control of everything." 

"Macho man? Seriously?" Jeongin said dryly, as you met his bored eyes in the rear view mirror.

"You have to admit, this has been the smoothest that one of our projects has ever gone, in any class. Usually we're procrastinating, rushing at the last moment, and extremely stressed. What's so wrong with him taking the lead? None of us ever did." Hyunjin asked.

You just huffed, again. You knew he was right, but that doesn't mean you have to like it. Or tolerate him.

"So what? Yeah, the assignment's been easier, big deal. This whole thing doesn't just fall on me you know. He picks fights just as much as I do."

"We know, and we've talked about it with him too. He's just as stubborn as you. But he won't run away from karaoke night at the sight of you. We're only asking the same thing from you." Hyunjin levels you with a knowing look.

"C'mon noona, just try? It's college! We're supposed to be making friends, enjoying new experiences, and making memories!" Jeongin teases. 

"Jeongin, I was only born a month before you, we are the same age. Stop it." You say, in no mood to joke around.

"Sheesh, how did you ever warm up to us again?" Hyunjin's also teasing you now.

"She never would have, not if we didn't convince her to come out drinking with us after the first group project we ever did together." Jeongin mumbles.

“See! Group Projects! Uniting friendships! This is meant to be Y/N!” Hyunjin cries.

"Oh shut up, you both love me. And I love you too, so fine. I'll try." 

As if on cue, the car door opens and in comes Chris. He's soaked, completely drenched in rain. His hair is stuck to his forehead, and he's got two keycards in his hand. He combs his hair back, droplets of rain flying back and landing on your legs, and you involuntarily roll your eyes. 

"Why two?" Jeongin questions before you can.

"Well... bad news. It's a tropical storm, and it’s turning worse. It’s not stopping anytime soon, and definitely not tonight. There's no way we can drive home tonight, some areas are already flooding. The mix of wind and rain makes it nearly impossible to even see what's in front of us, which we clearly encountered driving earlier. Thankfully we're in a no flood zone currently. It looks like we'll be spending the night." Chris says.

You groaned again, throwing your head back against the headrest. There go your delightful plans with your bed.

"Damn." Hyunjin says, "So then, why only two rooms? I could've wired you the money for the extra rooms."

"Well... They only had two vacancies left." Chris said.

You glanced up at the sign, seeing 'no' flickering right next to 'vacancy' now.

You're completely over this day.

"Sooo... how do we split this?" Hyunjin questions, glancing at you.

Silence.

Chris was rubbing the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed. But before he could speak, Jeongin reached into his glove box.

Out came paper straws, no doubt from all the fast food he eats every other day. He's ripping some and then holding them in his hand.

Four straws.

"What's your game here dude?" You eye him curiously. 

"We draw straws. It's the most fair way to do it." He answers, with an irritating glint in his eye, and a smirk on his face.

This little shit. Playing unnecessary games. Of course he wouldn’t make it easy for you all in this suddenly awkward situation.

"Oh come on, there's got to be a better way." Hyunjin says.

"Then you come up with something. I hate sleeping with people in the same bed, y/n is a blanket hog and will steal your pillow while she's at it, you toss and turn like you're fighting demons in your sleep, and Chris snores! I think he needs to get checked for sleep apnea, because sometimes it sounds so concerning." He snaps back, but you’re sure it’s all excuses from him.

"It's not that bad!" Chris shouts, hitting him playfully.

Jeongin starts laughing, and Hyunjin smiles.

You, however, are still in no mood. You can’t understand why Jeongin or Hyunjin wouldn’t just room with you, and get this over with. Why did Jeongin insist on playing games? 

"Let's just pick the stupid straws so I can go to sleep." You grumble.

So you do, and you pull a fully intact straw, unripped. Hyunjin pulls a ripped one. Of course you can't see what Chris picks, and can't see what Jeongin is left with.

"Well, mine's ripped. Looks like we're not rooming together y/n. Yay! I get to keep my pillow, more ammo for me against the demons." Hyunjin jokes.

You laugh, and look at Jeongin... only to see him staring at you through the rear view mirror again. A devilish looking smile on his face.

Your stomach sinks as you say, "What did you guys get?"

"Ripped." Jeongin says as he holds up his straw.

That means...

"Pop the trunk." Chris says in a flat tone, as he opens the car door.

You just watch him with a glare, but he never even tries to peek a glance your way. When the trunk slams shut, you finally open your mouth.

"One of you switch with me." You plead.

"That's not very fair." Hyunjin teases, seemingly catching on to the downright evil game Jeongin is playing.

"Seriously, me? Sharing a bed with him? He’s already starting something with his shitty attitude!" You exclaim.

"You said you'd try." Jeongin shrugs, “And to be fair, you’ve had a shitty attitude this whole day first. So if anyone started something this time, it’s you.”

You scoff, but ultimately ignore that comment. He’s not wrong.

"Trying doesn't mean I'm going to jump into bed with him!" You shout.

"Now you just sound like a pervert." He laughs.

“Though now that you mention it… You two do have some serious rage filled sexual tension. Maybe this is the answer you both need to solve things.” Hyunjin chimes while nudging you.

“Th-That’s not– what?!” You shriek.

Unbelievable. Your friends have seriously lost the plot. Jeongin is feeding into Hyunjin’s delusions, laughing away, and you’re smacking the both of them repeatedly. 

"Seriously though," Hyunjin starts, swatting your hand away, "How can we just switch, he bought the rooms. He agreed to the room arrangement, or at least didn’t mention changing them. Maybe he’s also trying. I'm sure the beds are at least Queen size. Just line some extra pillows between you and him. We have them from camping. It'll be fine."

“But if you’re seriously uncomfortable, I will switch with you.” Jeongin cuts in, with a genuine and empathetic smile, “You know we’d never force you to do anything you don’t feel safe doing. I will valiantly endure the chainsaw noises coming from him while he sleeps.” 

You just sigh, too tired to argue, or entertain this conversation anymore. You didn’t feel uncomfortable or unsafe. You can admit to yourself when you’re just being stubborn. All you want to do is sleep. And maybe they have a point, maybe this is phase one of making peace with the enemy. If he’s willing to swallow his pride by suffering through a night spent sleeping next to you, and doing it without complaining, the least you could do is the same. It doesn’t have to mean anything more than that after all. 

"No, it’s fine. Let's just go." You say.

The three of you get out of the car and go to grab your bags. But yours is gone.

The rain is dousing you, so, abandoning the thought of your belongings, you opt to make a run towards the motel. Your two friends behind you.

When you're finally under the shelter of the awning outside the rooms, you take a moment to ring your long hair out. Your teeth are chattering, even though it's warm out, the wind blowing on your wet skin feels chilly. You scan the area, and find Chris in front of room 127. He's got your bags, along with his things. 

Seems he is also in phase one of the peace treaty. 

The two boys run up behind you. Hyunjin is swiping his hair out of his face, and Jeongin is shaking his hair like he's a dog. 

"Here, you guys are up the stairs, room 213." Chris mumbles, handing them a keycard.

"Alright, goodnight guys. We'll figure the rest out in the morning, and hopefully be on our way home." Hyunjin says, taking the card. 

You watch them ascend the open stairs as Chris unlocks the door.

He hands you your bags before walking in.

"Thanks." You say, trying your best to offer a small smile.

"No problem." He replies, jaw clenching.

You follow in behind him and are immediately disappointed.

In the middle of the room is nothing more than a full bed, with a night stand next to it. A bible, a landline, and a tv remote sitting on top of it. The floor is carpeted, an ugly shade of ruddy brown. The soft yellow glow of the table lamp barely lights the whole tiny room. And lastly a chair sits in the corner.

Everything else was fine, irrelevant even. It was the bed size that triggered you. Sure, it was big enough for two people, but it offered absolutely no room in between you two. Not even for the stupid pillow line. 

"Fuck..." Chris mumbles as he lets his bags fall to the ground, surveying what's in front of him.

All thoughts of the imaginary peace treaty leave your head, and instead irritation sets in. You’re too exhausted and impulsive to try and smile your way through it. You let your brain and body fall back on default, the familiar feeling of indignation settling in your bones too easily. You just scoff and push past him, your shoulder bumping his arm, and place your bag on the chair. You're pulling out what's left of your clean clothes, which is thankfully a white tee and checkered pajama pants.

"Was that really necessary?" Chris snapped at you.

"You were standing in the way, taking your time looking around. I needed to get by." You snapped back.

"You've been giving me an attitude all day, please save it. I'd like to at least have a quiet night of decent sleep."

You turned around to face him, giving him a fierce stare.

"You're the one who started bossing me around today, just like every other day we have to work on this stupid project, and who are you to tell me what to do?" You argue.

"Maybe I wouldn't have to if you could keep focused on the task at hand. At the rate you go, we'd be weeks behind on this project!” He steps forward, eyes going dark, “And if I hadn’t gotten us to leave today, we’d be stuck who knows where in this storm! You don’t listen to me unless I ‘boss you around’!”

“That is not true and you know it!” You shout, taking a step forward yourself.

It was definitely true, all of it, and he definitely knew it. But he didn’t need to know, that you knew, he knew that. 

“All you ever want to do is slack off.” He continues, taking steps closer to you, “You get so engrossed with distractions, you completely forget what we’re supposed to be working on! There’s never any structure, not unless I make it happen!”

“Are you serious right now?!” You retort, fully closing the gap between you two to confront him, “That is so insulting! I do not slack off. Maybe you should stop being such a control freak for one minute, and ride with the vibe a little! We’re ahead of schedule on this project, we could afford a weekend of fun! Which you weren’t even supposed to be on, by the way.” You threw in his face, too angry and defensive to really think about the words you said.

Something suspiciously close to hurt flashed on his face, but you kept going.

“So sue me for wanting to make things fun, for wanting to have fun with my friends!” You finish, chest heaving with misplaced fury. 

“Yeah well,” He’s leaning down now, tilting his head with venom in his eyes as he stares deep into yours, “I’m not your friend, am I?”

You feel your blood boiling in your veins, a mix of emotions rushing through you, but rage is the most prominent one. This man gets under your skin like nothing else. 

You were about to hand the reins over completely to the anger, escalate the argument to a whole new level, if that was even possible. Your mind floods with irrational and callous thoughts, the icy cold words bitter on your tongue, ready to be spit out. 

But then a flash of lightning hit. A crack of thunder followed not long after, and all those harsh words melted instead. 

Your head snapped to the window, the curtain slightly open, and panic took over instead. You rushed over to close it, gripping the curtains tightly. Your knuckles were white, your hands were trembling, and you were frozen to the spot, as the rumbles of thunder faded out.

Chris just watched you with his eyebrows furrowed, before shaking his head. Seemingly clearing his mind, and coming back to himself, deflated.

"Just... take the bed. I brought my sleeping bag. I'm taking a shower." He mumbled, and you stayed put, hearing him shuffle around before the bathroom door slammed.

The sound makes you jump, and your heart is racing even more now. Damn it.

Why did the thunder have to start?

You were always scared of thunderstorms. An irrational phobia, considering you were safe inside, but a phobia nonetheless. You felt the anxiety coursing through your body as you waited for the next roll of rumbles, but it never came. 

"Deep breaths, it's fine y/n." You whispered to yourself as you let go of the curtains, fingers aching.

You never liked loud sounds in general, sometimes they tend to overwhelm you. Obnoxious yelling, deafening music, fireworks, etc. It all sent your body and mind into damn near hysteria. You got flighty, defensive, your brain would often shut off. The illogical fear would consume you, control you, leaving you to perform uninhibited actions. Oftentimes resulting in a melt down, or panic attack, or lashing out in some way. You had figured out how to deal and cope with it for the most part, of course. But with thunderstorms specifically, the uncertainty of never knowing when the next boom was going to come? It still had you terrified.

This was going to be a long night.

The beginning of the night, after that first crack of thunder, went by in uneasy silence. You showered after Chris, and now lay in the bed. Too anxious to sleep, in anticipation of more booms of thunder. 

Hyunjin had texted you, checking in to see if you needed one of them with you. You stupidly assured him you were fine. You regret it now. You’d give anything for a snuggle, or some sort of distraction. You just felt down.

Underneath the anxiety from the storm, guilt started settling in. 

You didn’t have to go that far with Chris, you never had before. Sure, you two would bicker. You’d make comments, and generally avoid each other, unless giving the other glares and side glances full of disdain. That is, if you even did openly acknowledge one another… For the most part, it could just be considered childish actions.

You’d stick your tongue out at him for shutting down an idea, or refocusing the conversation to schoolwork, and he’d flip you off in return. You would roll your eyes at anything and everything he said, and he’d scoff or huff at anything and everything you said. He always had a smug comeback to your comments, knowing exactly how to get under your skin, and you knew how to match that energy. You would start a disagreement with him, knowing he would play into your hand every single time.

Then at some point it started getting worse, the teasing comments turned downright mean. The glares held tension behind them. The bickering would get so heated that Jeongin and Hyunjin would no longer join in the teasing, or laugh at the show you two would put on, but instead have to step in to separate you two before it spiraled out of control. 

Even then, you guys had never outright yelled at each other like you had tonight. You hadn’t said such ruthless words to each other, and you surely had never been encroaching on each other's personal space before. And you started it all by purposefully bumping into him, knowing it would piss him off. Knowing it would start something. Knowing he always played into whatever twisted game your mind came up with to start an argument. 

No one else was around to stop you, or to stop him. And you would have kept going. You’re too damn stubborn, and sometimes childish, for your own good. Just like your friends always told you.

Now you’re stuck with that persistent feeling of remorse, knowing the only way to fix it is to face it. Calmly, maturely. A genuine conversation, confronting the entire long standing issue head on. 

That would be a long and vulnerable discussion, of which you had no idea how it would end. This, in addition to that lingerie anxiety, was keeping you defiant. 

So you stayed silent, brewing in a plethora of conflicted emotions.

Neither of you said anything more to each other. 

Chris lies parallel to the bed, facing away from you. You were hyperfocused on the sounds around you, and the fact that the only thing you could hear was the rain falling outside, you figured he was still awake too.

Unless Jeongin really was lying about his snoring.

You rolled over in bed, not wanting to face the window anymore, and you heard him shuffle in the sleeping bag. The bed creaked beneath you, and you could hear your heart beat in your ears. You will sleep to come. 

Eventually you fall asleep to the sound of your own uneven, and heavy breathing.

Not for long though.

A loud crack of thunder has the bed vibrating against the floor, and you yelp reflexively. Your eyes shoot wide open, and you quickly scoot down to pull the covers completely over you. 

The rumbles continue for a few seconds, until they fade out. You're left shaking, fingers clutching the blanket tight around you. You know your breathing must be heavy, erratic, but you can’t hear that over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. So you try to put all your focus on that. Until you feel the bed dip, and a hand reaches out to touch your side. You flinch and whine, nerves coursing through your veins once again.

"Y/n?" Chris whispers.

But you're too scared to speak. Trying to focus on breathing, and not letting the tears fall.

"Y/n? What happened?" He tries again, his voice is slurred with sleep.

Silence.

Having the presence of another person is helping you calm down faster though. He never retracted his hand, it stayed firm, even after your reaction. You never did well with storms alone, and you usually never had to be. Someone usually came over to spend the night, one of your friends, or your roommate would stay in your room with you. They’d stay up with you until the storm ended. 

Why did you say no to Hyunjin?!

Chris let out an exasperated sigh, and you felt him shift off the bed. You never thought his lack of touch would feel so cold and terrifying. 

"Whatever..." He grumbles.

You threw the blankets off of you in an instant, and reached out to grasp his wrist.

"Wait!" You say in a shaky voice.

He's looking at you wide eyed and shocked, and then at the grip you have on him. You can’t blame him, it’s not like you ever willingly sought him out before, let alone grabbed at him. 

You’re staring at him, struggling to find the words that you want to say, and that’s when you notice he’s only in a black tank top and boxers. You don’t think you’ve ever seen that amount of skin on him before, and it only distracts you further. His arms and legs were like alabaster pillars in contrast to his dark clothing, full of veins, and lean muscle. 

He swallows, and the small click of his throat snaps you out of whatever trance you got stuck in.

"Please just... stay." You end up whispering, cheeks flush from shame.

It was more of a statement than a question, but it was all you could give with tears brimming your eyes.

You can't believe you're even considering this. You must look so pathetic in his eyes. Lashing out for absolutely no reason one minute, and begging him to coddle you the next?

Without a word though, he nods. He sits on the bed next to you, shuffling a bit to get comfortable, before lying down flat on his back.

"Y'know, this could be easier if you let go." He says, but there's no malice in his voice, it’s soft.

You realize you're still gripping his wrist, tightly, and sitting straight up.

You snatch your hand back and apologize in a barely audible voice, and he aims the warmest smile towards you that he’s ever given before.

"My little brother used to be scared of thunderstorms too, I understand." He explains.

You lie down next to him, also flat on your back, and notice how much body heat he gives off. It makes you want to immediately wrap yourself around him.

But that’s just the unhinged emotions talking, how could you think that when not even an hour earlier you were ready to bite his head off over nothing. How could you think that when you two had never gotten along, not once, in all the weeks and months you’ve been forced to see each other. 

So instead you lie still, feeling grateful he’s giving you any comfort or support at all.

"Some things I just never outgrew I guess." You say, scrubbing the tears from your eyes.

"That's okay." He assures.

The silence this time isn't heavy or uncomfortable. You're both lying shoulder to shoulder in the bed made barely for two, your leg resting up against his. His simple presence is doing wonders to calm your nerves, your body slowly syncing with his tranquil demeanor. 

Maybe this simple thing is proof that one day you two will find some sort of peace.

Your heartbeat evens out, your breath is steady, and your eyes flutter as you fall asleep to the sound of his breathing this time.

Another rumble of thunder.

You're flinching, throat making an indiscernible noise, and rolling into Chris, choosing to not even open your eyes this time. Your arms and legs wrap around him, quivering.

He doesn't say anything at first, instead turns onto his side and brings you further into him. A hand rests on the back of your head, pressing it to his chest. His arms engulf you, almost protectively.

"It's okay, I got you." He whispers.

His sleep laced voice is consoling you. The sandalwood scent of his soap, comforting you.

You try to focus on these things as the thunder continues, and flashes of lightning brighten the room.

Your eyes squeeze tighter, and you bury your head deeper into him. 

His fingers are brushing through your hair, it gives you goosebumps and you shudder.

You're unsure of how long you two stayed like that, but when it was only the sound of heavy rain again, you looked up at him to find him already looking down at you.

Your heart fluttered unwillingly.

Suddenly you felt extremely childish, and not for being scared of thunderstorms.

"I'm sorry." You whisper.

"I already told you it's fine, thunderstorms can be scary." He chuckled.

"No, no... I'm sorry for being such a bitch." You sigh, and let your head fall to rest on his arm.

His smile fell, and he was looking at you intently now, making you squirm a bit.

"It's just... I don't do well with new people. Then you clicked so well with Hyunjin and Jeongin, immediately. You took the lead on everything, which okay… yeah, maybe I struggle with focusing a bit. I hate change on top of it all, I’m so used to it always being us three and I guess everything had me feeling... threatened? Insecure…? I don't know, it's so stupid, it sounds like excuses. But I promise I’m not trying to make any."

He paused for a minute, "You're the one who asked me to join your group for the assignment."

"I know!" You said defensively, "We needed a fourth, and you didn't have a group."

"I usually work alone when I can, or whatever group I join for projects, I end up doing all the work. I was excited when it seemed like I had classmates who actually wanted to do the work... you all have that passion, you know? You’re all such close friends, it’s normal to get distracted and take breaks to just hang out, I suppose I let the perfectionist in me take over a bit and went a little overboard..." He mumbled. 

You laughed at that, and he did too. Things felt lighter, reconciliation was easier than you thought. 

"I can't believe a thunderstorm has us squashing our beef." You giggled.

"I'd thank the skies if I could, I didn't know how much more I could take of your attitude." Chris admitted.

"Oh, the attitude will never change, get used to it buddy." You roll your eyes.

He's just smirking at you now, trying not to break out in a full smile. And there's something different in his eyes when he's looking at you. Something you’ve seen countless times before, but it’s more open now. Like he’s not trying to hide it.

Your cheeks heat up, and you nuzzle into his chest more to hide from his view. He chuckles, and his chest vibrates.

“We’ll talk more in the morning, it’s still late. Try to get some more sleep.” He mumbles.

And you hum in response. At some point afterwards, you both must've fallen asleep, but once again. 

Not for long.

Your eyes blinked open, trying to adjust to the soft, warm, glow of the room. The streetlights and red neon light from the motel sign were shining through the curtains, providing just enough to see the room around you. 

It wasn't thunder that woke you up this time, though the sky was still dark and rain still poured outside. It was him. Or more specifically something prodding into your lower back.

When you had flipped onto your other side? You're not sure, but here you are. His arm is thrown over your waist, your head still resting on his arm, and your back pressed to his chest. His breathing is even, and he's snoring softly.

And his cock is hard and poking you.

Fuck.

You must not be fully awake, because your body responds before you can help it, by arching your back. 

He's so thick, and he's twitching against you from the friction of your ass moving against him. His arm tightens around your waist, pressing you more against him.

This time it's his own hips rutting forwards, and a grunt escapes his lips.

If he could see you now, he'd see how affected you were from so little. You were flushed, his body heat mingling with yours, core throbbing, your thighs squeezing together to try and relieve some pressure. 

This was wrong, though. He couldn’t see you, he was asleep. He can't control how his body reacts when he's asleep. You need to snap out of it.

But he doesn't stop, and you don’t stop him either. He keeps dragging his hard length against you, with agonizingly slow rolls of his hips. You’re stock still now and whimpering softly, breathy, barely audible. Feeling incredibly turned on and horny from the accidental tease of it all. More than anything else, frustrated that you weren't getting any friction yourself. You felt torn about the entire situation.

When his fingers dug into your skin as his movements continued, you decided this had gone far enough without him knowing, and turned your head to wake him. 

“Chris.” Is all you have to mutter, to have his eyes fluttering open.

Although it came out more like a whine.

He stopped moving, but seems to be taking in the position of both of you.

Your neck is twisted awkwardly, head mostly facing the ceiling really, barely angled toward him. But, looking to your side, you can still see him, see the hesitation, the realization.

"I..." He trailed off.

For a while, you two stayed like that. Lost in each other's gaze. No words said, just unsure and unshared thoughts. 

You weren’t sure what to do, how to respond. You know what you want, and thought you might know what he wants too. But could you just assume that? Was this okay? Can you… tell him to keep going? The clear lust in his dilated pupils told you yes. Still, the lingering thought of your previous history and interactions with him is stuck in your mind. And clearly, something was holding him back too. 

So you kept observing, scanning his face. His brow, slightly pursed. His jaw, tightened. His eyes, probing. Everything about his expression was like a question, like he was waiting for some sort of answer. 

Then it hit you. 

You should know by now, really, you’ve thought it so many times before, granted in the past it was out of spite. 

He will always play into any games you start. Maybe you just never realized how far the games were allowed to go.

The measured and deliberate roll of your hips against him, made him hiss as his eyes fluttered. And that was the only answer he needed to play.

His fingers left your waist, only to find a home around your jaw, angling you more towards him so he could kiss you. 

It was a lazy kiss. Unhurried and languid and sleep filled, his plush lips moving against yours. They were so warm, and inviting and mixed with the lingering and faint taste of toothpaste.

You brought your hand back to tangle into his fluffy curls, pulling him closer. He licked against your bottom lip, begging for more. When your mouth opened for him, all the building tension finally broke.

He had you turned around facing him, as your hands desperately grasped the back of his shirt. It felt like fire filling your lungs and stomach as his tongue met yours, and the heat only grew.

His hands were gliding over your body urgently, like he was making up for lost time, and maybe he was. He pressed you into him, tighter, more flush, like he couldn’t get you close enough.

Still, when his hands reached your face, he held it in gentle contrast compared to how his lips moved. You struggled to keep up, forgoing air over losing one second of his tongue rubbing against yours.

When he noticed your thighs rubbing together, he let his hand trail back down, stroking your thigh. His lips moved from yours, to your cheek, to your jaw. He let his teeth graze down your neck, a finger slipping into the neckline of your shirt, pulling down. He nipped at your collar bone, and then laved at it with his tongue.

Your nerve endings were ablaze across your entire body, it all felt too good. Gentle puffs of air past your lips were all you could manage if you wanted to keep it together, and not show so much desperation. 

But then he let his tongue drag up, all the way back up your neck, to your jaw, before placing an open mouthed kiss right beneath your ear. 

“Tell me what you want.” He whispered, as his fingers wrapped around the sides of your neck.

Your body shuddered, and you whimpered. Your voice was lost, and it didn’t help that he was now sucking bruises onto the other side of your neck, being sure to leave his mark.

“I can’t do anything more if I don’t know what you want.” He teased.

But he’s contradicting his own words, because his mouth is still on your body, kissing down to your chest. You can feel the heat of his lips through your shirt, his hand moving parallel with them. And when his lips find the swell of one of your breasts, his fingers also brush over your nipple on the other.

“Fuck– just, please…” You grit through your teeth, exasperated.

“You weren’t lying about that attitude, brat.” He taunts.

At the same time, he’s pinching your peaked nipple lightly. You let out a breathy moan, and he smirks.

“At least you still said please. Tell me.” He demands, pressing another kiss, teasing.

“Chris…” You groan, starting to squirm.

His hand comes down quickly to grip your waist, pinning you to the bed, stopping your wiggling. When you look down at him, you see the same darkness in his eyes that you saw earlier. When you two were fighting. All it did was ignite the lust you’ve always elusively felt for this man. 

“The way my name sounds on your tongue right now… mmm.” He hums.

His fingers were squeezing you, forcing you still continuously. He kept eye contact while he lowered his head once again. His mouth enclosed around your nipple, through your t-shirt. You felt the warmth of his saliva seeping through, making the fabric cling to you, and allowing more to be felt. 

His tongue was moving slowly, swirling around the hardened bud. You were panting now, thighs still clenching and unclenching. You felt beyond desperate, you needed more of him. More of his touch, more of his sinful tongue, bare against your most sensitive parts. 

Right when you were going to speak, he sucked hard against you, and all that came out of your mouth was a debauched moan.

He popped off too soon, his eyes flicking down to the wet spot he had made. Meanwhile you were focused on his shiny lips, coated with saliva. He starts to touch the soaked fabric, sweeping his thumb back and forth against you.

“It’s simple really,” He goads, an edge to his voice you’ve never heard before, “but you refuse to stop acting so bratty. All I need is a few words from you, and then I can ruin you. I know you want it, your body is honest. Shows how much you want it. I just need to hear it.” 

His eyes meet yours again, and he’s studying your face before he speaks next. 

“Tell me, or we stop now.” 

His voice has a tone of finality to it, and fuck, you might cry if he does’t keep going. 

“Pl–ease,” It comes out in a quiet hiccup, and you swallow the lump in your throat to force the words out, “Please, don’t stop. I want it– need it, need to feel you. Wan’ more– touch me, fuck me, God, use me.” 

Before you know it, you’re begging, pleading for his pleasure as much as yours.

He starts slowly, sitting up on his knees, looking down at you with a tilt to his head. His mouth set in a smirk, the same smirk he always gives you when he knows he’s won. Know’s he’s gotten under your skin, or irked you when you tried to rile him up first. 

For a split second, you wonder if it was always supposed to end up this way. If the sexual tension existed long before you connected the dots on your own.

He stole all your thoughts though, when he slipped his hands under your waist, bringing you to sit up. He lifted your shirt, taking it off, exposing your chest to him. Your hands mirrored his, sliding his shirt up, urging him to pull it off, and your eyes trailed over his body.

He was still hard, his cock twitching visibly every now and then. His V-line prominent, your eyes trailed up further, looking at each sculpted muscle in awe. His abs, his arms, his chest. 

You reached to touch him, a palm on his abs. Your fingers grazing against them, watching the way he quivered at it. The quick rise and fall of his chest. Your hand trailed up further, stopping at his pecs. 

With a curious gaze, you looked up at his face again, and he was already watching you. You flicked his pebbled nipple, and he hissed. 

“Everything off. Now.” He stated.

You bit your lip and nodded, leaning back to shimmie your pajama bottoms off, your underwear going with them as you kicked them off. Then you sat back up, and tugged at the waistband of his boxers. 

“You too.” You breathed, so quietly. 

He smirked and shoved his thumbs under his waistband. Pulling it down too slowly, “You’re always so loud and assertive, defensive. Fighting against everything I say constantly. Barely letting me get a word in sometimes. Now look at you, all hushed and soft, and pliant.”

You should be angry, you should feel humiliated and shameful, you should have already bit back with a smart comment. That was familiar territory after all, except nothing about this felt familiar, not quite. It felt ideal. So good and so right, and his words just enhanced that. The slight humiliation, the shame, the embarrassment, it’s still there. Because he’s truthful. But the words and emotions twisted and interlocked with sensual gratification. Because he was right, and it made it all the better for some reason. 

You opened your mouth, ready to plead again. You needed him now, anything, everything. You were losing your mind to desire, to pleasure, to need.

But before you could, his boxers were down around his thighs, his cock springing free. It slapped against his stomach, and your jaw dropped further. 

You felt his size earlier, but nothing could prepare you to see it. Slightly above average in length, but so thick. Glistening as a bead of arousal dripped down his shaft, his tip so pink it made your mouth water. 

He wrapped his hand around himself, giving himself an unhurried pump, and letting his head fall back. A groan escaped his lips, two pumps, then three. Then he was looking at you again, eyes half lidded as he scanned your body. 

Your eyes were focused on him, but your hands moved over yourself. Letting one hand massage the soft skin of your breast, and the other start to slip between your thighs. You’ve been aching for him. You hadn’t even parted your folds, fingers ghosting so gently over your slit, and you still felt the wetness dripping out of you. 

He licked his lips before he spoke, “Should I reward you? Let you come on my cock for being so good for me, hm? So obedient? After all this time, is this all it takes for you to settle that bad attitude?”

Your brain short circuited, a mix of emotions, hormones, and feelings rushing through you. So when he started leaning down, his body looming over yours, you used all your strength to flip him onto his back. 

You climbed on top of him, straddling him now, and he was looking up at you. Something akin to danger in his eyes, full of longing and passion. His hands found your hips before you fully settled on his, preventing any contact. 

You smirked down at him, fingers tracing patterns against his chest, before gently flicking his nipple again. 

“Look who’s the quiet one now, talking a big game, but let me easily take control in a heart beat.” 

He let out a dry laugh, “The only reason you have a fraction of control right now, is because you don’t know how I usually play.”

He brought your hips down, finally giving you contact with him. 

You gasped as your core slid up his hot length, coating him in your wetness. Your eyes fluttered, the ridge of his cock catching just right against your clit. You shuddered, letting all the taunting words dissolve from your mouth.

“Fuck… so wet, so warm.” He murmured, sliding you back down his cock, only to push you forward again.

You moaned, full on and loud. Any thoughts of control slipping from your mind as you let him move you. 

“And quite frankly, you’re already too far gone for me to explain any rules. So we’ll play your way, I can still ruin you with vanilla sex sweetheart.” 

Oh fuck, those words made your entire body tingle. Your mind raced with the possibilities. Vanilla? So he was into kink play. No wonder, his aura exudes that of a dom. And you wanted nothing more than to experience that side of him. But, again, he was right. You were too far gone, aching, desperate. You needed him now. 

“Please–” You stutter out, moving your hand down to grasp him and line him up with your entrance.

“Ah-ah.” He says, quickly grabbing your wrist, and then the other. “How cute, thought you could rush things. Thought you could flip me over and ride me, and I wouldn’t say a word, or do a thing about it.” 

He chuckles again, moving so both wrists are held in one hand, while his other rests at your hip. 

“That was supposed to be a reward, love. For listening so well, for being so good. But then, you misbehaved. Let that brat out once again, but it’s okay. One day I’ll tame her.” 

You whimpered, staring down at him with tears starting to well up in your eyes. He can’t just stop now, he wouldn’t. 

“Aww, don’t worry, you pretty, sweet thing. I’ll still let you come, like this.” He said, his grip on your hip tightening. 

He pulled you forward, urging you to grind your hips on his cock. And you let out another moan, depraved, shameless. You started a slow rhythm, reveling in the heat and feel of him against your clit.

“And then, afterwards, if you’ve finally learned how to behave for me. Then I’ll let you come with my cock buried deep inside you.” He said, pushing his own hips up and increasing the friction. 

You gasped, and then moaned again as your hips faltered. 

“Now, enough talking, show me how pretty your face looks when you unravel for me.” He murmurs. 

He leaned up and his lips captured your nipple once more. He sucked, and laved, and flicked his tongue against you. He let out little groans, and grunts as you moved against him. He released your wrists, placing your hands against his chest. His hands were caressing your sides, before they moved to your hair and neck. He pulled you down, his lips meeting yours passionately, the hand in your hair unyielding. He swallowed your moans and whines, and licked into your mouth like he was starved.

You swore you could feel every vein on his cock as you grind against him continually. You felt him throb, and pulse, and for a moment you thought he might cum before you. 

Then he was clutching your hips once again, pulling you down, while his hips thrust against you. It was all too much at once, the increased pressure and speed had you hurling towards a powerfully building orgasm. 

He was panting now, mouth hung open as he laid back and watched you tremble and moan. He kept bucking his hips, the decadent drag of his cock against your clit, inching you closer and closer over the edge. 

“So fucking irresistible.” He moaned, “It’s taking everything in me not to just slip inside right now, feel you squeeze around me when you cum. You’re close, I can feel it, I can see it.” 

You opened your mouth to answer, but his fingers found his way inside instead. 

Your lips closed around them and you hummed a moan, your tongue swirling over them. He let out a breath before he muttered. 

“Unbelievable. Need a taste.” He whispered. 

Then he had you flipped on your back, and was between your thighs. Your climax ebbed away momentarily before he dived in. His lips felt plush even against your core, and his tongue was unholy. He was ravenous, groaning as he devoured you. 

“Nnh, f-fuh-” You breathed, legs trying to clamp around his head and hand flying to his hair, latching on. 

His palms to your inner thighs, he forced your legs back open, his mouth never leaving you. He worked through your folds, making sure to taste all of you before focusing on your clit only. At the same time, his hand moved to your center. His fingers gentle as he touched you, stroking through the mixture of your arousal and his saliva. 

A single digit probed you, and he put more effort into the movements of his tongue. 

“Mmmm– ah, ah!” You whined.

He grunted his approval, and then fully slid inside you. His long and slender finger easily reaching that gummy spot inside you. And it was like you saw stars. Your entire body shook as he hooked his finger, pumping it and building you back up. 

A second finger slipped in, and the stretch nearly pushed you over the edge. Your hand clenched tighter in his hair, but your legs fell open, no longer fighting to close. Your body was giving into the immense pleasure, you never knew any type of sex could feel this good. 

You felt completely worshipped.

“Ch-chris, I’m gonna, gon’ cu-” You tried to tell him. 

His lips closed around your swollen bud, and sucked, tongue flicking simultaneously. And you were moaning obscenely. He didn’t stop, his fingers still pumping into you, tongue still lapping. You were writhing against him, fingers tugging his hair, and hips rolling in ecstasy. 

When you started a high pitched keen and your legs started to quiver aggressively, he slowed his movements, his mouth coming off you for the first time since he started. 

You looked down, and he was smiling smugly, fingers still buried in you. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now, you taste better than I imagined.” 

You couldn’t do anything but watch him and try to catch your breath. He slipped his fingers out, and you hissed at the overstimulation from the simple action. 

He was back on his knees, between your legs, looming over you. Dark eyes full of desire focused on you. He was scanning your entire body. From your face, down to your legs. He brought his hand to his member, and spread the mixture of arousal and saliva over himself. His fingers wrapped around his cock, and he started to stroke himself again slowly. 

He groaned, “You had me going crazy. It was like you were begging to be subdued. Tamed.” 

The quietest whimper escaped your lips. Your legs involuntarily fell open wider, and you felt the heat start to grow in your stomach. A fresh gush of arousal dripping slowly out of you, and his eyes locked in on it. 

“Shit, just look at you. Insatiable.” He rushed out, his hand moving faster. 

The words he spoke weren’t degrading necessarily, but they still made your cheeks tinge red in shame and pleasure once again. 

You sat up, coming face to face with the flushed head of his cock. Your mouth watered for it again, tongue darting out to wet your own lips, before you planned to take him between them. 

But you were learning that Chris was always one step ahead of you. 

He leaned down and kissed you slowly, guiding you back down on the bed, and laying over you. His erection pressing into your thigh. You hummed, wiggling your hips until his tip was resting at your entrance. A strangled noise slipped through his lips, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

“Fuck,” He muttered, as he broke away from your lips, “Are you sure?” 

He was looking attentively in your eyes. 

“Please.” You whispered. 

He pressed his lips to yours as he slowly pushed in. Both of you moaning together, as he buried himself to the hilt. Your legs squeezed tighter around him, the stretch from his size and the lingering sensitivity, providing the perfect mix of pain-pleasure. 

You sucked his bottom lip between your teeth and bit down gently, rolling your hips up slightly, signalling it was okay to move. 

He started gently, an almost stark contrast to the movements his tongue and fingers performed on you earlier. It still felt mind blowing, but you were being selfish right now. 

“Harder.” You moaned in demand. 

He paused momentarily, and you felt the smirk against your lips before you saw it. He pushed back up, grabbing underneath your knees and putting them over his shoulders. 

“I like it better when you’re begging so prettily.” A glint in his eyes as he lowered back down, effectively turning you into a pretzel. 

Your mouth dropped open, he was so deep and you felt so full. 

“But I’ll give you anything you want tonight, babygirl.” 

Oh. OH. You felt fluttering in your chest at the pet name. A swarm of butterflies making a home within you. 

Before you could even fully process what that single word from his lips was doing to you, he started moving. Steadily speeding up his rhythm, hitting that sweet spot inside you so delectably.

Your toes were curling, and you couldn’t believe how fast you were being pushed back to your peak. 

“Chris, fuck– Chris!.” You moaned wholly.

“I always wanted to know what you’d sound like moaning my name,” He panted, “It might just be my new favorite sound.” 

He grabbed behind your knees again, pushing them to your chest and holding you open, fucking into you harder. You gripped his forearms, as you fell apart. A depraved moan ripping from your throat. 

“That’s it babygirl, come for me just like that, fuck. You’re squeezing my cock so tight.” He moaned, rhythm stuttering slightly. 

Your ears were ringing, and your limbs felt tingly from the sensation. Your orgasm was hitting you in never ending waves, and you relished in the overstimulation of it all. 

“Where do you want it?” He panted, hips twitching as he tries to stave off his own release.

“My mouth.” You breathe immediately, no hesitation at all. 

“Fuck.” He whines. 

Whines. Fuck he’s whining for you.

Then he pulls out, letting your legs fall back down to the bed. It only takes a moment for the blood to flow through and return feeling, and then you’re on shaky knees, pushing him to lay back. His cock twitched as he gripped the foot board, trying to balance so he could watch you. 

You wasted no time, engulfing him between your lips. And he fully whined, continuing to whimper as you took him deeper in your mouth. His hips continued to twitch, and if you could smirk at him, to give him a taste of his own medicine, you would.

You tasted his natural lubrication, mixed with your own as you lifted upward. Tongue swirling around the tip, then digging into the slit, moaning at the tangy taste. You knew he was already sensitive, he had been edging himself for ages now, just to make sure you finished more than once. So you plunged back down, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks. 

“Ah, ah, nnng” His words failed him in the pleasure of it all. 

He was so vocal, almost as much as you. Between the sounds he made, and the wet, slurping noises coming from your own actions, it all sounded so lewd. Saliva was beading at the corners of your mouth, dripping all over your chin and his pelvis. 

“Y/n, Y-y/n, I’m–” He tried to warn you. 

You already knew, his cock was throbbing against your tongue, and you enveloped him down to the base. Taking him into your throat, and he bucked his hips once, uncontrollably, in his release. 

His groan came out raspy, gruff, and his fingers threaded into your hair, pulling the strands while keeping you there at once. Spilling down your throat in spurts. 

You loved every second of it, even if your airflow was cut off momentarily.

He lifted you off of him roughly, by your hair. Strings of drool keeping you both connected. You inhaled sharply, and then his grip softened. His other hand raised, his thumb smearing your bottom lip and chin before caressing your jaw. Your eyes met only for a moment before his lips were on your again, rather his tongue pushing past them, devouring you in a new way once again. 

You matched his efforts, and stayed like that for a while. Just kissing wholly, as you found yourself laid out on top of him. 

When you finally broke a part, the only sounds you heard were heavy breathing from both of you. Your head rested on his chest now, and he had inched down to be able to fully lay on his back. His arms were draped around you, and you were both sticky from sweat, and various bodily fluids. 

There was a muted sense of tranquility. Where you and him just existed in each other's presence. It felt good, and it felt new. You couldn’t help but mentally kick yourself, because things could have been like this much sooner, had you not kept up the stubborn mind set. 

The sun was just barely starting to rise, its rays penetrating through the partly cloudy skies. You looked at the clock sitting on the side table, right next to the bible. The time read 5:57 in the morning. 

“The rain stopped, the storm must have ended.” Chris whispered, his lips resting atop your head. 

“Mm, I didn’t even notice.” 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t, the thunder got loud for a while there.” He admitted. 

You angled your head to look up at him, wanting to tease him, “So you fucked me as a distraction? Used my poor vulnerability to get what you wanted?”

His face grew stern, “I would say that I hope you know I would never do that, but I’m not sure we even know each other well enough to say it.” He said seriously. 

You just giggled, “We may have had a tough time with each other, but yes Chris, I know you well enough to know you’re not a complete douche bag like that.” 

His face brightened, eyes softening and a smile returned to his plump lips. You rested your head again, and you must have fallen asleep once more at some point. 

When you woke up, it was in Chris’ arms as he carried you to the shower. His touches were soft as he cleaned you up, lathering your body with the loofah you had packed, and fingers combing through your hair. He left you wrapped up in a fluffy towel as he quickly cleaned himself up. 

You were sitting on the bathroom counter, detangling your wet hair and humming softly. You handed him a towel as he stepped out of the shower, and it all felt so domestic. You almost didn’t want to pop the little bubble that had formed around you two. 

You knew, at some point, there was a discussion to be had. Even more vulnerable than the ice breaking one last night. But it didn’t feel as heavy as it once did. It felt more hopeful than ever. 

You two got dressed, handing each other fresh clothing, and picking up the old ones that had been strewn around the room. You fixed the bed as best as you could, sending a silent apology to the cleaners. 

Chris was folding towels, and packing up both of your bags. 

A knock came, and you looked at the clock. It's too early to be check out time, so it must be Jeongin and Hyunjin. 

You went to the door, as Chris picked up both of your bags. 

When you opened it, you were met with Hyunjin’s smiling face. His eyes flickered over you for a second before he spoke. 

“You survived!” He laughed. 

“It was just a thunderstorm, and I wasn’t alone. Of course I survived.” You mumbled with a smile on your face. 

Jeongin snorted from behind him, before quickly covering his mouth. His eyes were glued to your neck, and Hyunjin elbowed him harshly. He jerked forward, a look of pain etched on his face. 

It didn’t dawn on you until later, what exactly that whole interaction meant.

“Uhhh, okaaaay?” Chris had his brow furrowed as he looked between the two of them, “Are we all ready to go?” 

“Yep!” Hyunjin said, voice pitched higher than normal. 

You were just as confused as Chris was. They were acting very strange, even for them. Regardless, you all walked to the car, loading bags into the back of it once again. 

Chris dropped off the key cards before returning to the car. Jeongin took charge of driving again, and you headed for the back seat, sitting behind the passenger like you did last night. Chris followed you, along with Hyunjin. 

Everyone paused for a moment, looking at Chris. Hyunjin bit his lip, trying to stop a giant smile from forming.

“You know what? I think I’ll take over as navigator for today!” Hyunjin said, rushing to the passenger seat. 

“I knew it, I knew all it would take is a good f-.” You heard Jeongin whisper, and you promptly took your flip flop off and smacked him with it.

“What was that for?” Chris said as he sat down in the back with you. 

“Jeongin is just happy to safely take us all home, that’s all.” Your words sugar coated as you sent a death glare Jeongins way.

“Sure am,” Jeongin played along, or so you thought, “I can’t wait to be in my own bed. Between the thunder storm, Jinnie’s tossing and turning, and some very rude guests who couldn’t seem to stop wailing and screaming right underneath our room. A regular night's rest would be so nice.” 

And with that he started the car, and took off. Hyunjin's cackles filled the car, as you and Chris shared a look full of shock. The both of you flushing bright red. 

He took your hand in his though, and gave you a shy smile. 

Who knew a thunderstorm would be the best thing to ever happen to you.

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Happy late birthday to Christopher, not that this story is for him. But rather, for the feral Stay's who love to read a completely fictional character of him ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

As always, please let me know if you'd like to join the taglist. And if you do, pretty please interact with my fics besides liking (ie; replying/commenting/reblogging). Although I will always appreciate liking as well! Feedback is always cherished! ♡

He should’ve known. From the way you’d mentioned it in passing the other day—“I think I’ll try a new recipe sometime this week for the potluck.”

Your coughing snaps him out of his thoughts. He’s already pushing himself onto the railing, halfway into your space before he realizes he’s moved.

“Mydei?!” you gasp, startled.

“Are you okay?” he asks instead, hands steadily rubbing your back, looking concerned.

You nod, eyes still watery from coughing, “Yeah. I’m okay. Can’t say the same for the cookies, though…”

Both of you look towards the counter—the tray of sugar cookies, blackened beyond saving.

There’s a brief, fragile silence. The kind that hangs between two people who are very aware of each other and pretending not to be.

“…I’ll air out the apartment,” Mydei says, already moving.

You watch him step fully into your apartment like it’s the most natural thing in the world—rolling up his sleeves, turning on fans, waving a dish towel through the air to chase the smoke out. The place slowly begins to smell less like disaster and more like something salvageable.

“I followed the recipe,” you mutter, embarrassed, as you scrape one cookie with a spatula. It doesn’t budge.

He huffs out something that might almost be a laugh, “You always do.”

You glance up, “Hey!”

“I didn’t say that was a bad thing.”

Another pause. Softer this time.

Mydei studies the ruined tray, then looks at you, “Do you… want to try again?”

Your eyebrows lift, “You mean—now?”

“I have the ingredients,” he says simply, “And an oven that hasn’t been… assaulted.”

That gets a smile out of you.

You tease him about it only then—about how he climbed into your balcony like it was nothing, how dramatic it was—right as he reaches for his pocket and freezes.

“…I don’t have my keys.”

The realization lands between you, followed by a beat of stunned silence.

You snort first, “So what, you’re trapped here now?”

He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’ll—just—” He gestures vaguely toward the railing, “I’ll be right back.”

Watching him climb back into his own balcony feels strangely intimate, like witnessing something you weren’t meant to see. You wait by his door instead, heart thudding louder than it should.

The lock clicks.

The door opens.

“Hi,” he says, a little breathless, like he hurried even though there was no reason to.

“Hi,” you echo, just as quietly.

You end up in his kitchen just like that—shoulders brushing as you stand side by side, him moving with practiced ease while you hover, handing him sugar, watching the way his hands work the dough.

He lets you cut the shapes, carefully guiding your wrist once, just once, when you’re about to press too hard.

Neither of you comments on how close you’re standing.

Neither of you step away, either.

The cookies bake properly this time. Golden, warm, perfect.

When they’re done, you sit at his small table, sharing one between you. Sugar dust clings to your fingers.

“These are really good,” you say quietly.

Mydei nods, then hesitates—just a fraction. Like he’s debating something.

“…Next time,” he says, eyes on the cookie instead of you, “if you want to bake—just come over.”

“What, the balcony?” you laugh and he groans, muttering something about never living that down and it makes you huff out a soft laugh.

You look at him then. His ears are faintly pink.

“Jokes aside, yeah,” you say softly, “I’d like that.”

Sunday afternoons suddenly feel like something to look forward to.

⋆⁺₊❅. TAGLIST IS CLOSED! (thank you for being with me as i wrote this!)

@iruanmey @notyams @itslingyao @lyra-angel-81194 @sugarrie

usagi's note: i only wrote this cuz the other day i tried a new oven and a new recipe and I BURNED THE COOKIES. girl i felt so ashamed, i literally said, oh my god mydei would be so disappointed... (for context i have a thursday cookie business!) and i literally wasted those ingredients T^T oh also have these images:

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